Gentle Chains (The Eleyi Saga Book 1)

by Nazarea Andrews

“Madam,” he says, stiffly, formally.

  “You know better,” she says, furious. “He is an initiate and you are a master. You disgrace yourself.”

  Tin flinches and she turns to me, dismissing the guard completely. “Juhan, a moment?”

  I nod. “Of course.”

  Zoe leads the way out of the hangar, into the damp, grey garden. There are a few birds chirping in the trees, and I look for them. She watches me until I finally look at her. “What can I do for you, Zoelle?”

  “What are you doing with my sister?” she asks. The question is blunt and I can feel the current of nerves running through her. Her eyes are steady though.

  “I love her,” I answer, threading my words with manipulation. “She loves me.”

  Zoe laughs, shaking her head. “That lie might work for the IPS; it might even work for Daddy. Hell, it even fools Brando. But this is my sister.”

  -What does that mean?- I ask.

  She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react to my mind in hers. -Sadi loves Brando. Always has, always will. Whatever the reason she’s with you, love isn’t it.-

  “It isn’t my business. It’s between you and Sadi. But don’t let your choices hurt her. Take the training seriously,” she adds out loud.

  She starts to turn away and I catch her arm. For a heartbeat, something primal and dangerous rises in her gaze, but she shoves it down. I release her and she cocks her head at me as I ask, “If she is in such danger, why doesn’t she train too?”

  Zoe smiles and glances at Brando, standing in conversation with Tin. “Do you really think Brando protected her for five years without teaching her to protect herself? Sadi can fight better than anyone here but him.” She shrugs, walks away, her voice just outside my mental walls. -But she always said she fought best with words.-

  Chapter 17

  Chosi’le

  I WAKE TO CHAOS AND FURY.

  Kevan’s eyes are cold when I open mine, and Jemes is throwing what little he owns in a bag. His half of our narrow bed is cold, and I have a moment to wonder how long he has been awake before I force myself up. “What’s wrong?”

  “This idiot thinks he can be your aide—that he will serve no one but you,” Kevan says evenly.

  “I can,” Jemes snaps. “I’m not bound to the arena. I was bought as a service slave. I can serve her.”

  “Spectacles earn their aides,” Kevan observes coolly. His gaze drifts over me, and I shiver under the cold disregard.

  “It’s being approved,” Jemes says, shoving my medicine in his bag. I open my mouth to protest, but his last words hit me, and I go still.

  “You spoke to Prator?” I ask.

  Jemes turns to me, and I almost shrink under his fierce glare. “Of course not. I spoke to Primus, requested to serve you. I’m not supposed to be in the arena anyway. You want to do something so fucking stupid, fine. But I’ll do it with you. Maybe then you won’t be so eager to throw away your life.”

  I struggle to contain my flinch. He can’t know how much I hate it here, how desperate I am to escape any way I can. I shrug. “Fine with me. If you want to throw your life away shoveling draken dung. It’s your choice.”

  A spark of amusement and then it’s gone—but it lets me know that as angry as Jemes is, he’s more frightened than anything. And in the quiet of my own mind, behind my mental walls, I will admit that I am glad he is here, that he will remain with me.

  Strange and unlikely as it seems, the quiet slave has become important to me.

  After breakfast we walk through the jakta, past the practice sands. I feel the glads watching me, but ignoring intrusive emotions and hostile eyes has become easier as time goes on.

  A thick Pente with almost no hair stops us before we reach the beastpens. “You’re the new draken girl?” I nod. It’s as good a term as any, and better than others. “Don’t know what your mentor is thinking. The last dozen draken keepers were killed within a month. The Ja is crazy to risk a glad of your skill.” His unfriendly eyes slide past me, to Jemes carrying our meager belongings. “Who’s this?”

  “My aide,” I say, not explaining further. I don’t like how he expects me to answer, so I twitch my wings open, a silky wave, and step forward. “Who has been caring for the draken since the last death?”

  “I have,” he snaps. “I’m the beastmaster, ain’t I? And a good riddance it’ll be to have the devils off my hands.”

  I feel a stir of anger from a psyche far in the mountain and I want to soothe it. I can’t Speak, though. My body aches in reminder of how I am limited. Instead, I let a feeling of commiseration unfurl. The other mind seems to hesitate, before derision fills it and it slips away.

  “Now you’re here, you can care for them. They don’t come out of their caves but for practice, and are passing fond of goat, when I get it.”

  “Do I answer to you?” I ask and my gaze on him grows heavy. I feel his hesitation, the urge to lie but eventually he shakes his head.

  “Nah, I’m just here if there’s a problem and to requisition things you need for your beasts.”

  I nod, pleased with my limited autonomy. It’s more than I expected.

  “Can I go in?” I ask, impatient to get started. My life will depend on these creatures. The sooner they become accustomed to me, the better. And sleeping in their cave for the one night has not accomplished much.

  The beastmaster—I recall his name is Krato—growls, for a moment sounding like one of his creatures. “They’ll wait. I’ll show you your quarters, then be done with you.”

  I’m tempted to ignore him. But this is important, and it would not be a bad thing to be in the beastmaster’s good graces. Reluctantly, I follow him through the cages of beasts, now slowly waking. He points to a large pen where a flock of chickens clucks, mingling with the goats and cow and sheep. “This is where you’ll find fresh meat for your draken. If I can get goats, I’ll set them aside for you. Most of the others don’t care for it much.”

  He keeps walking and motions to a small building. “The armory is where you’ll get most of what you need, but there are a few things in my stables that they won’t have. Let me know if you take anything but you have free use of it.”

  “I didn’t think beastboys had a lot this easy in the jakta,” I blurt, surprised.

  Krato grunts. “They live short lives. Ja Argot tries to provide the tools to prolong them as much as possible. It’s my job to make it as smooth as I can, and even then, it won’t be an easy lot.” He stops just short of the tunnel entrance, and I imagine I can feel the warmth emanating from the draken’s hold. He nods at a small building to the side of the tunnel. “These are your rooms. Two, which is more than most get.”

  I peek into the dusty rooms—a large bedroom with a dirty, unmade bed, an open room with a tiny kitchen in one corner, and littered with clothes and tools I don’t recognize. A small door hides what I assume is a bathroom.

  It’s much more than I expected and I can feel Jemes’ surprise as he looks in over my head.

  Krato picks up a small round disk and hands it to me. It’s thick, heavier than I expect, and I frown at it. “All the draken wear harnesses, and they answer to this. You use it to punish them, and when they leave the hold, to control them. It has a whip function—a laser that can be used to herd. It’s similar to the laser brand the slavers use.”

  My stomach twists, and I struggle not to drop the disgusting thing. It’s a torture tool, whatever name it’s given. “I don’t need that,” I force out, and I’m proud of how even my voice is.

  Krato makes a harsh noise—a laugh. He shakes his head, and stumps to the door. “The Ja expects you to use it. And it will keep you alive in the arena. Don’t take the draken out unharnessed—Ja will kill you for it.”

  I believe him.

  “If you need anything, I’m here. Try not to get yourself killed,” Krato snaps, and walks away.

  Jemes watches me. He’s terrified. Even if I weren’t psychic, I could see the sheen of sweat on his brow, the p
ounding of his pulse under his thin skin.

  “Do you want to stay here? Get us settled?” I ask.

  He shakes his head adamantly. “I’m your aide.”

  I grin as he follows me to the tunnel.

  I maneuver through the tunnel easily, and once, Jemes touches my arm. “You’ve done this before,” he says.

  It’s not a question but I nod.

  The draken are awake when I step around the last curve, and all of them are watching me. I hear Jemes’ gasp, feel fear filling him, almost choking me. One of the draken—a smoky gray—hisses, and spits a plume of fire into the air, the heat scorching my face. The shadows shift with the slight hiss of scales, a pressure on my mind that makes my teeth ache. Until I push back. And the illusion falters.

  A feeling of deep dislike fills me, a feeling that isn’t mine. It’s from the draken. My eyes slide up to the massive black draken with his watching eyes, and serpentine neck twisted as he stares at us. Wide wings are tucked against his sleek back--the longer I watch him, the more the illusions around him fade. I want to speak mind-to-mind, want to tell them I’m a friend, but my hands are tied and it makes me angry.

  The small draken near the entrance is agitated, throwing worry and nerves, and another one—a black so dark his scales look blue—twists around her, soothing.

  I’m upsetting them. Not the impression I wanted to leave. I settle on the ground, and one of them hisses. The big black shifts and the other draken settle for a moment.

  “Why did you agree to be my aide?” I ask Jemes, patting the ground next to me.

  He shrugs. “Why not? I was sold as a service slave. Might as well serve you and try to keep you alive.”

  I’m aware of the draken’s eyes watching us, but try to ignore them. “Why are you here? The Sine is an IPS planet; you are protected from slavery.”

  He sighs, and I feel sadness overriding his fear. One of the draken shuffles, settles tensely. “My mother. She was ill, and the medicine was too expensive. There was nothing keeping me home, especially if my mother died. So I offered. I would be sold as a service slave, and Mother would live.”

  I stare at him for so long he shifts and finally whispers, “Don’t. Don’t look at me like that, Brielle.”

  To make him happy, I look away. But I want to cry. It’s something Juhan would do.

  He reminds me of home.

  “What are you going to do?” he asks, nodding at the draken. I shake my melancholy, and look at them. All of them are watching us, but there is something different about them now. It’s a tense quiet, almost as if they are waiting. For me. And I can’t Speak to them, can’t train them unless I can communicate.

  “I need to speak to Prator.” I sigh.

  Chapter 18

  Juhan’tr

  “DADDY’LL BE LEAVING SOON.”

  Sadi is sitting on my bed, legs crossed under her, eyes bright. I glance up from the vid screen I’ve been scanning—another article about us, about the dinner and the anger from the IPS. “I still don’t understand why we’re going.”

  She tugs the screen from my hand, wordlessly demanding my attention. “Because the reason I’m not going back to Faculatas is that I’m shadowing Daddy, learning about politics. If I want to be believed, I need to actually stay with him.”

  “Do you care about politics?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve grown up surrounded by politics, on New Earth and here, and it’s so familiar that falling into it is like breathing.”

  She doesn’t continue, but I feel the reservation in her thoughts and nudge her. “But?”

  “It’s frustrating. I don’t like the games, the lies, the way everything seems to be motivated by money. I want to do something for people. It used to be politics was the way to do that. Now, the IPS is so twisted in on itself, they don’t get anything done.”

  “So you found me,” I finish, letting a slip of lust settle around her. It’s easier than it used to be. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, and I don’t want to analyze it.

  A flush runs up her cheeks, and she looks at the bed, the thin blanket that I almost never use, anywhere but at me. “I’m probably making a mistake,” she says to her hands. “Everyone thinks so even if Brando is the only one who will call me an idiot.”

  “Why do it?” I ask, touching her hand. It’s becoming easier to make these gestures—I don’t flinch from it. It draws her eyes up for a heartbeat, and something flashes across her psyche so fast I can’t get a read before it’s gone.

  Then she laughs, flashing a bright grin at me. “Why not?” She stands, leans over to kiss me, a barely there brush before she slips away. I watch her. And I realize it is harder to find the disgust I should have for my owner.

  The Senator announces his plans to leave the next day. I can feel his quiet resolve, Brando’s restless energy, tension that fills the entire house.

  “We’ll all go to return Zoe to Faculatas. After, I thought we might stop by Geurin. It’s been a long time since I’ve visited the auction houses.”

  “Daddy, let me come,” Zoe says, twisting her spoon through the cold coconut soup.

  “No.” Harvine doesn’t hesitate.

  “Sadi was going with you when she was my age,” she says.

  Sadi’s spoon clatters down and she glares at her younger sister. Harvine answers before Sadi can. “She was different.” His gaze slides to Brando, and he sighs. “Sadi grew up too soon. You don’t need to do the same.”

  “I’m not a child!” she snaps.

  “Then quit acting like one,” Sadi answers, setting her napkin down. The words hit Zoe like ice water, shocking and painful. I’ve never heard Sadi speak to Zoe like this. There are moments of amusement, tolerance, even frustration, but this is first time I’ve felt her anger directed at her sister.

  “Daddy made his decision. And like it or not, you’re fourteen. That is not old enough for the auction houses.”

  “Don’t,” Zoe says, her voice shaking. “Don’t act like my mother. You aren’t. My. Mother.”

  Sadi stares, cold and remote, something wordless passing between them. Zoe stands stiffly. “I’ll be packing if anyone needs me. Not likely, but just in case.”

  The door slides shut behind her, and Harvine gives Sadi a censorious look. “She would have listened. You didn’t need to get involved.”

  She shrugs, picking up her spoon. Harvine watches her silently, and then resumes eating, precise neat bites of omelet.

  -Why?- I ask and her grip tightens momentarily on her spoon.

  -She needs to be angry at one of us. And she can’t stay angry at me. Never could. But Daddy, she can. And it would be too easy for her to hate him.-

  I stare at her as she goes back to her dinner. I stare for so long that Brando, sitting to the right of the Senator, shifts in his seat.

  Sadi’s eyes dart to him, following his gaze to me. A blush colors her cheeks, and I smile, letting an edge of longing slip into my eyes.

  Let them think I want her. That the ever-present longing and desire in me is for her, and not for Eleyiar and Chosi.

  -Stop staring,- she demands, and I grin before my eyes drop to my soup. I take a bite and force my thoughts away from my sister who would adore the sweet spice. Force myself to focus on Sadi.

  Today, for the first time, I’ve seen something in her that makes me think I could make this lie of love something real.

  And that terrifies me.

  “Go away, Sadi.”

  I knock on the door again, and call out, “It’s not her.”

  A muffled oath, and then the door slides open and I step into the cluttered room. Clothes, vid screens, an expensive tablet, shoes and—oddly—a katana blade, are strewn across the bed, the floor and desk. The scents of soap and fantas blooms and steel fill the room, and I grin. I will never smell this particular combination without thinking of Zoelle Renult.

  She steps out of her bathroom and glares at me, hands on her hips. “Did she send you here?”


  I shake my head, too startled to speak. Zoe stalks to her bed, shoving things aside to plop down, folding long legs under her. She wears a microscopic pair of shorts, and a top almost as small. I can’t help but wonder what the gossip networks would say if they knew I was in her room when she was dressed like that.

  She reaches for the katana, and I step back as the steel blade shivers through the air. “I know what she’s doing, you know. I’m young but I’m not stupid.”

  “Then why are you mad at her?”

  She glares, bright green eyes glittering with tears she refuses to shed. “Because she shouldn’t try. If Daddy is going to do this—and we all know it’s his idea—then I should be mad at him. She doesn’t have to protect him, and she doesn’t have to protect me. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

  “But you are her younger sister. I would do anything to keep mine safe, just like Sadi would.”

  That makes her pause, and she hesitates as she reaches for a rag to polish her blade. “You have a sister?”

  A sharp pain goes through me as I allow myself to think of her, reach for her, and find nothing. “A twin.”

  The anger has left her voice, leaving it oddly hollow, when she asks, “When was she Taken?”

  “Just before I met Sadi.”

  “How?” she whispers.

  I smile bitterly. “Does it really matter? In the end, the result is the same. I couldn’t protect her, and I should have. Let Sadi do this.”

  I rise, and walk to the door, which glides open.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, softly. “For your loss.”

  I bare my teeth in a fierce smile, remembering my vow. “Don’t be. She’s coming home. It’s just a matter of time.”

  I ignore the flurry of activity as I walk through the halls. It takes a lot, for a sitting Senator of the IPS to leave Ariede. There is nowhere in this massive estate that I can go, to be alone. And I need that, want nothing more than to be sequestered with my thoughts. -Sadi!- I send the shout out and feel the flutter of psyches around me, retreating from my dominating presence.