by Amanda Twigg
She wiped her sleeve across her face and left. A mass of blue Warrior auras confronted her in the corridor. She glanced each way to see who would approach, but no one took notice. For the first time since her chief elect appointment, she was free to roam around. With the Collector missing, too, she felt a release, along with a side order of panic.
Warrior Hall turned out to be a lot like Hux Hall. It contained a condensed version of all that was on offer in the city. She found the barber’s shop without much trouble and sat behind a queue of five Warriors. Gripping her citizen pin, she met their stares. What? Not seen anyone in such a mess? Is it a crime to have a low-ranked soldier here?
If there was anything Landra wanted right now, it was to feel like a soldier in the Jethran Army. She needed this haircut and refused to leave. The barber’s seat freed up, and all five Warrior heads turned her way.
“Go ahead, citizen,” one of them said. “You need this more than us.”
She took her place in the chair and saw what they meant. Gold-flecked hair tips covered her ears, and her insignia mark had vanished. She put her pin on the table and waited.
“Citizen Landra Hux?” the barber asked.
“Yes. How did you know?”
The barber took out his scissors, rather than clippers, and trimmed the ends from her lengthening strands. Then he put his scissors down and indicated for her to depart.
That’s it? I know you cut Warrior hair, but have you forgotten how to do soldier cuts?
“Shouldn’t it be shorter?” she asked.
“You’re down for a partial trim.”
“I am?” This never happened with Leo. “And what about my insignia?”
He pursed his lip and shot her an impatient glance. “That’s it. Like I said, you’re down for a trim.”
She stumbled out of the chair bewildered, but the seated Warriors exchanged knowing glances. A reflection showed them making signals behind her back.
What the shelk is going on?
At home, she was familiar with every aspect of her world and the people who worked there. Here, she was lost. She wandered back into the corridor and wondered what to do next. The extent of her freedom became clear when she strolled through the corridors and found herself near the Warrior Hall exit. The guard on duty snapped to attention but barred her way. At her puzzled expression, he cleared his throat.
“Citizen Hux, I have orders from Ranger Warrior Fourth Thisk. You’re not permitted to leave.”
She goggled, surprised at being recognized again, but not by the order. This is Thisk at his best, but does everyone know who I am? She was used to being recognized in Hux Hall, but here she should be nobody.
“He said it was for your own safety, citizen,” the guard said, mistaking her reaction.
Landra nodded, taking comfort from Thisk’s security, even if he wasn’t around. This arrangement was preferable to having a guard shadow her every step.
She turned in the opposite direction, wondering what to do. A baking smell reached up the corridor, and she had her answer. When had she last eaten? She followed the aroma, and her route took her past the stores. Dell opened his desk-panel and chased into the corridor. Blue stars of excitement danced in his aura.
“Citizen Hux, may I see you for a moment?”
His tone was more respectful than on her last visit, and she followed him into stores. A cautious frown knitted her eyebrows together.
“I received more orders regarding your uniform requirements,” Dell said. “Please, can you stand over here, so I can take your measurements.” She followed his instruction, still puzzled, and Dell set a tape measure around her chest.
“I’ve never been measured for uniforms before.”
“This is a special one-off. I don’t ask questions, citizen. I just supply whatever uniforms are ordered.”
“Who ordered this one?”
“Like I said, Citizen Hux, I don’t ask questions.”
And then Landra knew this was Father’s doing. A special uniform could only be for the promotion ceremony. She suddenly realized Dell knew exactly what he was preparing. She stood in silence as he turned and adjusted her body. He measured each aspect of her form, but his knowledge of her chief elect status made the experience surreal. Thisk’s appearance in the doorway came as a relief. At least with him, she could be herself.
“There you are,” the Warrior Fourth said. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Sturton wasn’t supposed to discharge you until a guard was in place.”
And with that, Landra’s freedom ended.
“How are you feeling, citizen?” he asked.
It was interesting how he used her official rank, now they were back on base. Out in the remote lands, he’d used whatever honorific matched her behavior.
“Much improved, thank you, Ranger Warrior Fourth Thisk.”
His face offered polite satisfaction, but blue waves of scorn roamed through his aura. He looked smarter than she’d ever seen, like a shaggy, wild animal after shearing. A band controlled his unruly curls, and his clipped beard hugged his face, revealing the hint of a short scar across one cheek bone. The clean lines of his insignia declared his high-ranking status, but his calm, rangy aura was the most reassuring thing Landra had seen all day.
Here in Warrior Hall, he wore his best cloak—with its abundant display of achievement ribbons—a ranger uniform cut from Warrior blue fabric, and his usual sword. Only his boots showed wear, and she suspected he rotated a few sets without taking new ones from stocks. Understandable. By the time she’d come back from the remote lands, her foot blisters were just starting to heal. This new pair will tear my skin to shreds.
“I’m pleased you’re doing well, citizen,” Thisk said. “You nearly done, Dell? I need the girl to run some errands.”
“I’ve got what I need, Warrior Fourth.”
“Good.”
Thisk grabbed Landra by the arm and walked her out.
“What’s this job you’ve lined up for me?”
“No job. Where’ve you been?”
“The barbers, but I might need to go back because he didn’t cut my hair properly.”
“He did exactly what Chief Hux ordered him to do,” Thisk said. He glanced each way down the corridor, making sure no one could hear. “Your investiture is days away, and the proceedings involve a ceremonial haircut with your new insignia. How can that happen if you’re cropped short and have a citizen mark? It could delay everything.”
“Oh,” Landra said. “So, the barber knows about—”
“He wouldn’t have been told, but it’s easy for anyone with eyes to guess.”
“It’s overwhelming, and I’m not even sure I should follow Father’s plan. Not after… You know. My… incident.”
Thisk yanked her to the wall and shot another glance around. “Now that we’re here, you have to go through with it. There’s too much at stake to duck out. Just don’t do that thing again.”
Landra knew what he meant, but if he had the impression there was a way to control her magic, he was deluding himself.
“You eaten? The food hall is down this way.” He walked away, but Landra called him back.
She did her own check of the corridor before speaking. “What happened to my kit from the shower room? There were certain items I left behind.”
“You mean, one certain item?”
“Yes, well, what happened to one certain item? Do you know?”
“I do, and don’t worry. It’s safe.”
He led them into a long room filled with trestle tables and benches. Landra had never seen so many Warriors together in one place. Most of them ignored her and continued eating, but some stares followed her movements. She picked up a juice flask, roll, and a bowl of hot oats before finding a spare seat. The soldiers at the next table pointedly didn’t look her way. Thisk joined her with a plate full of meat and spiced vegetables.
“Does everyone know about me?” she asked.
“That depends on what you’re a
sking. Some of them know that we’re sleeping together.”
“What!” She pushed back her chair and jumped to her feet.
“Sit down. The soldiers not gossiping about us as a couple think you’ve lost your mind. They’re watching in the hope you’ll throw another wobbler. Please don’t give them reason to spread that rumor further.”
She reclaimed her chair and eased back down. No one was looking at her now, but the food hall had fallen quieter than Gren’s waiting room. As if things weren’t bad enough, Winton appeared. He strode in, gloating to be accompanied by a two-bar Warrior. He paused at her table to make sure she noticed, and his tight, ordered aura glowed.
“Good day, Warrior Fourth, Citizen Hux. I heard you fell in the shower. That’s some nasty bruising you have there. I hope you have a speedy recovery.” His textbook politeness barely covered his delight at Landra’s recent mishap.
“Thank you, Trainer Winton. That’s very kind, and I can assure you I’m fine.”
“You want to join us?” Thisk asked in a leave-me-alone tone.
No, no.
Winton considered a moment, not hiding that he would enjoy the prestige of sitting with the Fourth. Landra wondered if he would change toward her when her new status was announced.
“I would,” Winton said, “but I came with a friend today, thank you.”
Once he disappeared, Landra stabbed a knife into her roll. “All this talk can’t be good news for the ceremony. Father will be furious if he finds out.”
“I think he already has. We’re both due to face him on report.”
“When?”
“In about”—he glanced at the world clock on the wall—“ten minutes.”
“Great!” She wasn’t sure she wanted to eat now, but an aroma drifted up from her roll that was impossible to resist. She gulped down as much food as possible before Thisk cleared their dishes.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s not be late.”
Chapter 33
“Everyone else out,” Chief Hux said when Landra and Thisk arrived. The pair stood before him, as sure of their innocence this time as they had been of their guilt at the last reckoning. The chief made them wait until he finished unpacking his sword collection. The bandaging supporting his arm had gone, and he stretched his fingers with a wiggle, as if they tingled.
Finally, he turned to Thisk. Even Landra flinched at the fierce shine in his gold-flecked eyes. His long hair hung around his shoulders today, the gleaming strands radiating a healthy shine. His loose training outfit didn’t detract from his business-like manner, and despite being a fraction shorter than the ranger, there was no mistaking who held the authority in this encounter.
“Warrior Ranger Fourth Thisk,” Chief Hux said, and the ranger’s spreading aura tightened, along with his spine.
“Sir.”
“My son has come to me with concerns.”
Landra twitched, annoyed that her brother would bring tittle-tattle back to Father. If he’d heard the rumors, he should have asked her about them.
“Concerns, sir? What has Dannet said?”
The chief sneaked a glance Landra’s way. “He visited my daughter in Sturton’s surgery and noticed fresh bruising on her face. He believes you’ve beaten her.”
Landra’s mouth fell open, and she shared a shocked glance with Thisk. It was true that he’d hit her, but he did have reasons and she’d done worse in return.
“This is ridiculous. Dannet shouldn’t come telling tales,” she said. “Have you told him about the promotion? Is this a way of getting me back?”
“He still doesn’t know of your new rank,” Chief Hux said, taking her face in his hand and tilting her head sideways. He checked out her mottled cheek. It was the kind touch of a father. Landra’s thoughts churned, concerned with Dannet’s ignorance rather than his complaint. She opened her mouth, but her father’s snapping aura stilled her protest.
“You deny this happened?” His eyes narrowed to bring the evidence into focus.
Landra flattened her lips into a line, not sure what to say.
“It’s true. I hit your daughter,” Thisk said.
Chief Hux turned his focus to the Warrior and confronted him face-on. “Explain!”
The ranger didn’t flinch. He squared his shoulders and said simply, “I was annoyed with Citizen Hux and struck her.”
Teeth ground behind the chief’s stiff jaw, and he settled all his attention on Thisk. Bright slivers of purple fury shot through his aura.
Landra hadn’t seen those before. “He did but—”
“Not now.” Chief Hux raised his hand to silence her protest. “I hadn’t believed it when I heard the gossip, Dolan, but it was the least ridiculous story to cross my desk about you two. Is the rest true as well? What have you been doing out there in the remote lands?”
Thisk’s aura held the calmness of an innocent man, mostly. “Chief Hux, sir, you tasked me with protecting and training your daughter. That is what I have tried to do. In the process, I believed she was putting herself at unnecessary risk, and I lost my temper. So, yes, I did hit her.”
“Against all protocols and rules?”
“It wasn’t on base, sir, so technically no regulations were broken. I’m no tutor, and you know that. I just did what I thought right.”
“Right? Any soldier following your example will think it’s acceptable to hit our chief elect.”
“Only if they are stupid, sir. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone.”
“And what’s to stop them?”
“The chief elect will stop them, sir. She packs an exceedingly painful retaliation.” He shuffled uneasily, as if remembering the kick to his groin.
The chief glanced at his daughter, his gold eyebrows stretched. Landra couldn’t believe they were being grilled on this when their temple escapades had passed with little comment.
“We settled the matter, sir,” she told him.
“So, you have no complaint, Landra?”
The memory of Thisk’s blows would take longer to fade than her bruises. His training methods had been brutal at times, but she’d learned a great deal under his guidance. Now that she had the opportunity to share her grievances, the desire ebbed. “No, sir. I have no complaints. Any differences we encountered have been resolved.”
“With fists?”
“And boots,” Landra said. “I’m a soldier, sir, not a delicate Templer to be coddled.”
Amusement twinkled behind Chief Hux’s gold eyes. His glance shifted between them. “Hrmph. We’ll call this matter closed then, but is there anything else I should know before the gossip-mongers beat a path to my door?”
Landra exchanged glances with Thisk. The remaining tittle-tattle was nonsense, but her magic would always be a dangerous secret.
“No, sir,” they said together, almost too synchronized.
Chief Hux sighed. “Good, because our future’s in the balance. The Templers are holding ransom over the power supply, and Warriors are fuming. Another Templer faction has demanded vengeance for persecution. Both sides would like to see the promotion ceremony derailed. Secret talks have secured an agreement, and we need this truce to side-line extremists. Your appointment is vital, Landra. Everyone needs continuity and the succession line secured. Your promotion will come as a surprise in many circles, but securing peace is going to require a different path.”
Landra sank into her boots, feeling the press of responsibility shrink her aura. She wondered if Father would follow this route if he knew how different her path might be.
“Now that I’ve shared our strategy, I ask you again, are you both certain there’s nothing that could jeopardize our plan?”
“No, sir,” Thisk said.
Landra took a moment longer than she should before answering. If she was going to admit her growing magic, now was the time. A warning glance from Thisk convinced her to stay quiet. “No, sir.”
Chief Hux’s questioning gaze flicked between them, as if he sensed deception, but he sc
ratched his head and expanded his chest in a sigh of acceptance. His aura stilled, but tiny darting lines betrayed his nagging worry.
“That will have to do,” he said. “I’ll put an end to this gossip. Make good use of your final days to prepare, Chief Elect Hux. I have a busy time ahead, so I probably won’t see you until the investiture party. Remember, careful conversations will serve us best, and you should save any painful retaliation tactics for the championships or if we end up at war. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Landra said.
“Dismissed.”
By the time she found her room, she discovered her belongings had been moved to a single cubicle with a locking door. Snug.
It was smaller than her room in Hux Hall, with furniture crowding the space at odd angles because of the tighter curving walls. A ridiculous flower-patterned mirror hung above her bed, and diagrams of fighting maneuvers covered the remaining walls, as if the previous occupant had left in too much of a hurry to take them down.
Someone had draped her clothes over a hanging rail rather than suspend them from hooks, and the Collector rested on the desk, along with the puzzle ball Dannet had made. She recognized Thisk’s less-than-subtle touch and wondered how he’d made it through the academy. Pulling a chair out from the desk’s footwell, she slumped down. The puzzle ball rocked gently on the wobbling desk.
She picked it up and turned it in her fingers, admiring Dannet’s soldering of the wire cage. Will you ever make me a gift again once you know what I’ve done? Her teeth scratched together as she considered her deception. She’d meant to tell her brother everything, even before Thisk had taken her to the overlevel. Chief Hux should have never kept him in the dark. Now, it felt too late to tell him the truth, but he would know she was going to be chief elect soon enough.
Shelk in a slop bucket.