by Raine Thomas
He laughed. “Training? I fail to see why you would need training to formally issue a sentence of death.”
Her step faltered, but Ty kept her moving. Remain calm, Kyr.
You’re kidding, right? He did just say that I have to issue a death sentence to the prisoners, didn’t he?
No. He said that you have to pass judgment on them.
She tried to reason out what he was trying to tell her, but they came to a stop outside of a nondescript wooden door. It was the first regular-sized, undecorated door she’d seen inside the palace. Although there wasn’t any sign reading, “Meet Your Death Here,” there was a somber energy about the area that might as well have been a billboard with flashing lights. Kyr rubbed her upper arms, deliberately brushing against Ty’s fingers on her arm.
I’m right here, Kyr.
The door opened and they filed in. As Kyr looked around, she once again stumbled. Ty kept her upright and moving while she tried not to gawk at what she saw.
This was no judgment, she realized. This was a spectacle.
They were in an arena. A freaking arena! Or maybe it was a coliseum here. Who cared? All she knew was that there were rows upon rows of seats circling a floor, and every seat was full.
Her mouth went dry. Not only did she have to issue a death sentence, she had to do it with everyone watching. There were even some children in the audience, she noted with growing dismay. Were the Inquisitors going to kill the Shelvaks right there in the middle of the arena? Oh, God…they were! Her heart dropped into her stomach.
“You are expected at the podium, Ma’jah,” Vycor said, waving at a raised section of the floor to the right.
Ty led her over to it. Deep breaths, Kyr. We’ll get through this together. You’re strong. I know you can do this.
He kept up the steady stream of encouragement as he guided her up to the podium. She realized there wasn’t room for him to stand beside her, and felt bereft when his hand left her arm. At least she had him in her head, she reasoned. That offered her some relief.
Vycor walked over to stand to the right of the podium. When Kyr looked over at him, she chanced to see her parents sitting in the front row, just over his shoulder. They had their own special viewing box. A bitter taste filled her mouth as she glanced from her parents to Telad and Ravina sitting beside them. She supposed the V’larian ambassadors had been allowed to attend since they had helped capture the Shelvaks.
She didn’t want to know who else was there. She really didn’t. Turning her gaze to the center of the arena floor, she focused on her breathing and Ty’s calming thoughts.
“Bring them in,” Vycor ordered.
His voice was somehow amplified. She didn’t see any microphone, but guessed the room had a sound system she wasn’t aware of. Wait a minute—did that mean her podium was amplified, too?
Her thoughts were interrupted as a set of doors opened to her left and the three Shelvaks were led out by males dressed entirely in black. She gasped when she realized that the gown she wore mimicked their clothing. Had that been deliberate on her mother’s part? Had she known about this from the moment she entered her chambers that morning and instructed the Wrym accordingly?
A loud murmur swept through the crowd as the Shelvaks were herded in. The sudden jump of negative energy in the arena struck Kyr like a shot. It felt like dark lust.
What was that? she thought.
I don’t know, Ty returned. Alametrians aren’t supposed to gain pleasure out of this. In fact, this is meant to be a reminder of why we purge negativity.
That made absolutely no sense to her. Who the hell had come up with this stuff?
As the Shelvaks were brought closer, Kyr was able to make out more details about them. They were naked, she realized, their pale flesh exposed to the light. Dark red spots formed along their skin even as she watched. The light burned them, but they made no sound. It was horrifying.
They were restrained around their necks, wrists, and ankles by chains that rattled jarringly as they advanced. The Mynders guarding them—the Inquisitors—held de’llums, but stood a safe distance away. Before long, they came to a stop thirty yards from the podium.
Kyr kept her attention on the largest of the three Shelvaks, who appeared to be sheltering the smaller two. Although their thin, spindly anatomies were different from an Alametrian’s, she thought that they were all male. Maybe the larger one was older than the other two.
Regardless of why the larger one was shielding the smaller two, it told Kyr one thing: the Shelvaks weren’t unfeeling, disposable creatures.
“Thank you all for coming today,” Vycor said, waving his hands to encompass the crowd. “As you know, our very own Ma’jah Kyr, the Ascendant, has just returned to us. On her way here, she was savagely and brutally attacked by a force of Shelvaks.” The crowd gasped, though they surely already knew these details. “We were able to capture three of them.”
Turning to Kyr, he continued, “Ma’jah should not have survived, but she did. As the one predicted to rule worlds, it falls on her to issue the judgment on these three attempted murderers.”
She realized that he was waiting for her to speak when he didn’t continue. Moistening her lips, she looked back at the Shelvaks. They stared at her, not moving as their skin blistered and peeled.
Her gaze swept the crowd. All eyes were on her. She felt their eager anticipation.
How would any of them feel, she wondered, if it was them standing there, naked and suffering while others watched? How would they feel if it was one of their children? How would they feel if their lives depended on the decision of one untried young woman who was given authority simply because of the nature of her birth?
How would she feel?
Nodding to herself, she finally asked, “Which one of these Shelvaks is the one who tried to kill me, Advisor?” Her voice was also projected, much as she had assumed it would be.
Vycor blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“I asked which of these Shelvaks is the one who stabbed me.” Since he didn’t reply, she continued in a level tone, “The truth is, I’m having trouble believing that any of the Shelvaks caught in the luvesta blast survived. Look at these prisoners. Their skin is melting off in just a little bit of light. That blast must have obliterated the Shelvaks who tried to kill me.”
The more she talked, the stiffer Vycor’s posture became. “These Shelvaks were among the crew of the ship sent to kill you, Ma’jah,” he said.
“So you’re telling me to order the crew of a Shelvak ship to be killed, even though they never lifted a weapon against me?”
“Yes, Ma’jah.” It sounded like Vycor’s teeth were clenched.
“Well, I’m not willing to do that.”
A loud wave of noise surged from the crowd over her announcement. Vycor snapped his fingers and strode over to her. Before he reached her, Ty stepped in front of her, blocking him.
“What are you doing?” Vycor hissed at her around Ty’s shoulder. His voice was no longer amplified. It was no longer cool and collected, either.
Mimicking him, she also snapped her fingers before answering, “I’m being true to the Alametrian way. We are a peaceful people. Killing others, whatever the reason, isn’t peaceful.”
“You have no idea what you have just done,” he said. His dark eyes sparked with anger. “If you will not issue the order, then I will.”
Kyr rose to her full height as outrage burned like an inferno in her chest. How dare he?
No, an inner voice that sounded strangely like Caelys told her. Don’t respond to anger with anger.
As that thought ran through her mind and she accepted it, a cool flush rushed over her, dampening her fury. Her skin tingled from her scalp to her toes. She leaned towards Vycor, who backed away a full step at whatever he saw on her face.
“You will do no such thing, Advisor.” Turning, she snapped her fingers. In her re-amplified voice, she added, “I will, however, attempt to find out why the Shelvaks want me dead.�
�
She ignored the resulting crowd noise. Ty helped her off the podium. She expected him to be freaking out over this. She was about to put herself directly in the path of the enemy, for crying out loud.
I trust you, Kyr.
And he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, she knew. That gave her added confidence.
She stopped a few feet from the largest Shelvak. She hadn’t been lying to Vycor. It really looked like the Shelvaks’ skin was melting off. Although they weren’t making noise, she saw their agony in their large black eyes.
“Can you understand me?” she asked, addressing the tallest one and keeping her voice soft.
He didn’t answer. She took a deep breath and once again called on that new inner voice. The potent energy she had felt on the podium once again unfurled within her.
Can you hear me? she sent towards him. If you can, I’m willing to try and save you. I just need to know why you’re trying to kill me.
Still nothing. The people watching from the arena seats seemed to be holding their breath.
She turned her thoughts to Ty. Do you think they know our language?
I don’t know, he returned. But if they’re an intelligent species, they should have made a point to learn as much as possible about their enemies, including how to communicate with them.
Her lips pressed together as she considered that. Closing her eyes, she called forth more power. I can sense that you’re hearing me, she thought to the Shelvak. I’m your last chance to save you and your companions. Everyone else here wants to see you die. If you can read my thoughts, you know I don’t want that.
The Shelvaks continued gazing at her with pained, unblinking eyes. Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. Then a voice filled her mind.
I will speak with you. Only you, Ascendant.
She flinched in surprise. The voice had sounded so foreign. It had definitely come from the largest Shelvak, though.
Of course, she responded.
The male must leave your mind.
That made her pause. Everyone in the room—hell, as far as she knew, everyone on Alametria—thought of the Shelvaks as their enemies. There was obviously good reason for that. Their kind had tried to kill her, after all. How foolish was she for even considering this?
A prize fool, one part of her insisted.
An open-minded one, the other part argued.
Glancing at Ty, she nodded. She knew the moment he pulled himself away from her thoughts. Apparently, the Shelvak did, too.
Our armor. We require it.
She gave him a dubious look. Look, I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here, but—
The light, it poisons us. You are killing us right now.
A wave of projected pain hit her, making her gasp and stagger back into Ty. She realized the Shelvak had let her feel what he and his companions were feeling.
“I’m fine,” she hurried to say as everyone jumped forward. Looking at Vycor, who had moved closer to watch the proceedings, she said, “I want their armor returned to them immediately.”
His mouth opened in disbelief. “Ma’jah, you cannot ask us to provide these enemies with anything that will make them strong enough to follow through on their attempts to kill you.”
Please! This time, there were three foreign voices in her mind. Please, we will agree to any amount of restraint. Just give us our armor!
“I don’t believe that I made a request,” Kyr said, turning her gaze from Vycor back to the Shelvak. “I issued an order. Give them their armor. You may restrain them to the point you feel is safe, but they don’t have to be in this much pain while I question them.”
Vycor couldn’t seem to decide how to react. After a moment, he bowed and said, “As you wish, Ma’jah.” Turning to the Inquisitors, he added, “Take the prisoners back to the holding rooms and give them their armor.”
Kyr watched the interaction closely. She couldn’t hear Vycor’s thoughts, yet she somehow sensed he was being deceitful. She knew that as a Mynder, he was capable of speaking with other Mynders through thought. What had he conveyed that she hadn’t heard?
“I think it only fair to warn you, Advisor,” she said, “that should anything happen to these Shelvaks while in your care, I will hold you responsible.”
His head whirled around. Red color stained his cheeks as he snapped, “And you think I should care about that, you little bitch?”
The sound of utter shock issued by the crowd brought him back to his senses. In his fury, he’d forgotten that his amplifier was still on. Kyr watched with cool satisfaction as he grew as pale as the Shelvaks he wanted to kill.
So much for purging negative emotion, she thought. Let’s see how the Alametrian crowd enjoys that spectacle.
Chapter 31
Awe flowed through Ty as he watched Kyr. Her eyes glowed like stars. Even if she didn’t realize it yet, he knew she had started to Ascend.
Vycor knew it, too. Ty had been tuning into the Advisor’s thoughts while he was removed from Kyr’s. The other Mynder was good at shielding, but as he grew angrier, his shields weakened. Although Ty couldn’t read specific thoughts with a basic scan of Vycor’s mind, he easily detected the Advisor’s feelings. The other male started out confident and pleased with himself. By the time Kyr demanded that he give the Shelvaks back their armor, he was a cauldron of rage, hate, and disbelief.
For the first time, Ty realized that Vycor had never believed the prophecy. He had thought that Kyr would never become the great ruler everyone else predicted. He had envisioned himself stepping in as her Advisor like he had done with her parents. In essence, he had wanted to rule over Alametria.
Now he knew that would never happen.
He felt Vycor’s panic after his outburst. Alametrians weren’t meant to experience the level of anger he had just shown. The Ruvex Rite should have purged him of it. Ty knew there was more to that than he’d been led to believe where Vycor was concerned. He now believed that the Advisor hadn’t undergone the Rite at all.
Were there others like Vycor? Had things changed under the Advisor’s leadership while Ty had been away from the planet with Kyr? Was that why Ty kept sensing so much negative emotion?
Vycor clenched and unclenched his hands, glancing wildly around the crowd as the prisoners were led back out the side door. He paced towards Kyr, triggering Ty’s protective instincts. Ty took Kyr’s arm and pulled her behind him. The only way the Advisor would get his hands on her was over his cold, dead body.
Seeing his expression, Vycor drew himself up short. Ty felt a range of emotions surge through the Advisor…bitterness, jealousy, impotence, and finally, resignation. None of those feelings particularly alarmed Ty, but the sense of calculation he felt next did.
“Dear people,” Vycor said, turning and lifting his arms as though to embrace the crowd. “Please forgive that unfortunate outburst. It has taken me a moment to realize how I could have allowed such dreadful anger to overwhelm me. The reason has finally become clear.”
His gaze moved to Ty’s. “I realized that I intercepted the negative energy produced by Ma’jah Kyr,” Vycor explained.
Another wave of sound issued from the crowd. Ty saw a number of heads nod as though in acceptance and belief…including Kyr’s parents. Behind him, Kyr gasped and tried to move around him. Ty held her back. Few would believe her if she got into an argument with Vycor right now, and the Advisor knew it.
“That is untrue, Advisor,” Ty said, keeping his voice clear and level. “Everyone knows that I can monitor your thoughts and feelings. Your emotions are your own.”
A smile twisted Vycor’s features. “I can understand why you would say that, Dem-Shyr, in light of your relationship with Ma’jah Kyr.”
Ty tensed. He wasn’t sure whether Vycor was implying that he knew about him and Kyr, or whether he was fishing.
“Everyone knows that I am an empath,” Vycor continued, his pride and arrogance returning as he spoke. “I sense and absorb the feelings of those around
me. It is clear to one and all that the Ruvex Rite should not have been postponed. Ma’jah still retains all of the negative emotions she brought back with her from her lessons. They must be purged or we will risk this sort of thing happening again to someone else.”
“As the Dem-Shyr, my abilities supersede yours,” Ty argued. “I know what you felt just as much as I know what Ma’jah Kyr felt. You are wrong.”
More murmurs resulted as people began wavering again. Vycor looked around and frowned. Turning back to Ty, he narrowed his gaze.
“I believe you have let your personal feelings influence your judgment, Dem-Shyr,” he said, the words resounding throughout the arena.
Now it was Ty’s turn to feel accusing eyes on him. This was a thin line to walk, he knew. There was no telling just how much Vycor had heard when Kyr confessed her love. If Ty pushed this, there was every possibility Vycor would reveal what he knew…or what he thought he did, at any rate.
“My feelings are not the ones in question here, VycorDane,” Ty said, his voice conveying his authority as the Dem-Shyr. “You spoke out of turn to Ma’jah Kyr. That is what we are discussing.”
Vycor bristled over Ty reminding everyone of his authority. He glanced at the Guardians, who were speaking quietly to each other, their eyes moving between Ty and the Advisor.
“I maintain that my outburst was prompted by Ma’jah Kyr’s own negative emotions and that the Ruvex Rite should be administered as soon as possible,” Vycor announced. “Furthermore, Dem-Shyr, since you are obviously unable to separate your personal feelings to see clearly on this matter, I maintain that I should perform the Rite myself.”
Ty stepped forward, the urge to grab Vycor nearly overwhelming. He stopped himself just in time. Still, he saw the victorious gleam in Vycor’s eyes.
“It is my right as the Dem-Shyr to perform the Ruvex Rite for the Ascendant,” Ty said, keeping his voice calm and authoritative. “This has been ordained. When the Guardians order it, I will perform the Rite myself.”