-What’s wrong?- she answers immediately.
-I’m going out. I’ll be back in an hour.-
There is a hesitation, then -Take Tin.-
I spread my wings, snarling. -Is that an order, lady?-
-No. But it’s not safe for you alone,- she answers.
-I’m only going to be an hour. Nothing will happen in an hour.- I pull off my vest, -And he can’t follow me. I’m flying.-
She tries to respond, but I push up walls around my mind, and hurry to the library. There is a balcony there and without pausing to think, I spread my wings and throw myself into the warm breeze.
It hurts at first. I haven’t flown in so long, my muscles burn as they stretch and catch in the wind. And then the sun-drenched currents carry me higher and my mind clears, emptying of everything but Chosi. I reach for her, instinctively. And as I settle in my own mind, beyond the swirling psyches around me, I feel her. A quiet, subdued presence so distant and weak that I barely recognize it as my sister. I wonder what has happened to her wild spirit. I wrap my own aura around hers as much as I can, bolstering her, and she seems to brighten for a moment.
A personal hovercraft races past me, and I jerk free of my thoughts, suddenly aware that I am close to the Capitol. Too close. I can see faces below me, craning back to see me, feel the sharp spike of fear as they realize what is flying above them, minds vanishing behind walls. I shiver and tuck my wings close, twisting to turn back to the estate. The personal craft mimics my movement, and a sharp spear of fear lodges in my belly. I wonder if it is one of the many IPS members, or a slaver, or something else entirely. Anger washes over the aura inside, and I flap my wings, picking up speed.
I am a creature of the air, born to the currents and slipstreams. Even a shuttle as small as the one tailing me can’t match my agility. I dart toward the surface, skimming the looking glass reflection of Capitol Lake. Then I twist, disappearing into a stand of trees, weaving through the branches. It’s probably Tinex, tailing me for my own protection. But I can’t shake the sense that the pilot was too shielded, the blank mind somehow menacing. I’ve pulled ahead of the shuttle a tiny bit and I race out of the trees, flying faster than I can remember, a straight shot to the safety of Sadi. I can hear the craft behind me, the drone of its engine, until the pilot gives up, turning aside and vanishing into the traffic into the city. My relief is so acute I’m almost dizzy.
-Sadi?- I call, almost desperately, and she answers right away, as if she has been waiting. -I’m back.-
If she senses anything wrong she doesn’t address it, just says, -I packed for you. We leave in the morning.- A slight hesitation. -I’m in the library. But I understand if you want to be alone.-
-I’ll be there shortly,- I answer and feel her surprise before I put up my mental walls and go to her.
Chapter 19
Chosi’le
I STEP OUT OF Prator’s office hoping this is the last I’ll see of it. I tilt my head back, letting the heat of the sun wash over me. Catelyn stalks past, not bothering to contain her fury. “For a girl as favored as you, you sure are bitter,” I say and she jerks around.
“You are nothing!” she hisses. “You think you are special, because you have the Ja’s favor? You mean nothing.”
I laugh, unamused. “Do you think so? Because I was sure that beating was a sign of his long-lasting favor.”
I push past her and begin walking toward the dining hall and Jemes.
“They hate you,” Catelyn calls and against my will, I look back. “The Eleyi? They hate you for your violence.”
I want to shrug off her words. Why does it hurt so much to hear her say what I already know? I can’t let myself care what they think—not if I want to live. I force myself to smile. “Here’s the thing, Catelyn. I don’t give a fuck what they think. I’m willing to do what I have to do to survive. That’s what matters, not the Eleyi way of life, and certainly not what fodder think.”
Her eyes are wide and her face is pale, but I can feel the edge of triumph under her shock. I wonder how long it will be before all the Eleyi have heard my words.
Jemes is waiting when I reach the dining hall, sitting at a tiny table with two heavily laden plates and Kristoff.
I glance at him as I sit and pull the plate toward me. I’m not hungry, but it doesn’t matter. “What is it?” I ask, picking at the food.
“How are the draken?” Kristoff asks, brimming with excitement and worry.
I hesitate. How much should I tell him? And if I tell him the draken don’t trust me, will he tell the Ja to take them from me? I glance at Jemes, but he’s watching his food, leaving this to me. I suppose that’s fair—he’s my aide, not the other way around. “Brielle?” Kristoff prompts.
“It’s only been two weeks, Kristoff,” I say, exasperated. “Give me time.”
He looks down, nervous. I swallow the bread and wait, dreading what he will say.
“Ja Argot wants to exhibit his new spectacle at the Eclipse Games next month.”
He looks up as I close my eyes, my mind working. The games will be the first test for most of the new gladiators. It’s three weeks away. I can have them ready—maybe. Jemes is cursing, quiet and steady, and it settles me. I open my eyes, and give Kristoff a tight smile as I reach for the water. “Then I’d better get busy.”
The night air is stifling and dark, but after long days and nights in the tunnel and draken’s cave, the darkness is familiar. I move through it easily, my wings tight to my back to avoid rousing the premthas. Vicious, massive, they are feline at the core and can’t resist batting at something floating in the air.
Most of the draken are sleeping when I arrive, as I expect. But not the big black on his perch. He twists to look at me, and I nod respectfully. They appreciate respect.
-Krato thinks he’ll have goat tomorrow,- I say as I settle on the floor. He shifts and I grin, letting my amusement filter out to him. A soft snort, too quiet to wake the others. I lean back against the stone and stare up at him. -Would you like to hear more about Juhan?-
The draken considers me, and I stare back, trying not to miss my brother. Or think about how ridiculous it is that the only time I do think about him is when I’m talking to the draken.
For some reason, they are fascinated by him. Or at least, they like these stories best.
-He would like you,- I tell the black suddenly. It’s been almost two weeks of this, and he still has yet to tell me a name, and I refuse to give him one. But I’m getting desperate—if Prator or Ja find out how little progress I’ve had, the consequences wouldn’t be good. -Even you would find it hard to dislike him. You would trust him by now, I think.- Curiosity swells over me and I glance at the draken. -You have to ask. I won’t tell you.-
Amusement. And a bit of respect, enough that I hold my breath, waiting. I need to show Ja and Prator progress. I can’t keep spending sleepless nights trying to bond with a giant reptile who couldn’t care less.
-Why do you think we would trust him?- The voice rumbles like thunder, but is infinitely gentle, careful in my mind.
For a moment, I’m too surprised to respond and he shifts, his long neck snaking away. -Because he is Eleyi,- I blurt out. -To his core, my brother is the embodiment of the Eleyi way. He has never fought; he doesn’t even know how.-
A smile tugs on my lips.
The draken blinks his large, golden eyes at me. -We are known for our fighting,- he points out and I tremble. I finally have him talking.
-But it isn’t your choice,- I counter. -When free, draken are peaceful and only protective of their egg clutch. Content to be left alone.-
He tilts his large head, studies me with one eye. -That was true, once. Before the jaktas and their whips and harnesses. I pity those who still believe such peace is attainable.-
-The IPS is celebrating the Century of Peace,- I say.
The draken laughs, the sound shaking through the cave and my mind. -They celebrate peace on the backs of slaves. A peace bought with th
e blood of the broken is hardly a peace worth celebrating.-
It’s true. The Centuriad is a tasteless joke. One I could ignore on Eleyiar—but we ignore everything on Eleyiar.
-Why are you here?- he asks. Curiosity and something else—something hopeful—fills his aura.
I hesitate. The truth is a gamble, but to lie would defeat what little trust I’ve built. -We are both trying to survive the jakta. And I think we stand a better chance of that together,- I say, finally telling him the truth I haven’t admitted to anyone.
-You risk nothing. You are a beastboy; you don’t face the arena.-
I laugh. Stand and let my wings unfurl, the pale translucent white shimmering in the firelight. The black goes still, watching. -Ja Argot bought me to train you, but I am bound for the arena. I’m strong enough to survive—for a time. But eventually, the other glads will kill me, because speed and agility will always be overmatched by strength.- He stares for a long time, so long I close my wings and slump. -I can help you,- I whisper, suddenly exhausted. -We can help each other.-
-What is your name?- he asks, and I flush. I have told him. Several times. -Not the name you were given,- he adds. -Your true name. What does Juhan call you?-
My mouth is dry. I feel exposed, which is strange. It is just a name, after all.
But it’s not—it’s me. Who I am, everything the jakta is trying to strip from me, everything I am fighting to protect and preserve.
The draken is waiting, watching me, and I have the sense he knows exactly what he is asking for.
-Chosi’le et’ Chentq.-
I feel him quietly ruminate on the name, almost as if he is tasting it. And then, -I am Miwya.- I stare at him, startled, and his golden eyes gentle. -Sleep, little Le. Tomorrow we prepare for spectacle.-
Jemes watches me as we gather the draken’s food the next morning. Several large rocks have already been wrestled onto the hovercart, and now we wait behind the hukron’s boys for the slaughtered goat. I’m impatient enough I consider snatching a chicken live from its pen. But live meat would only intrigue the draken, excite them when I need their calm.
I wonder if Miwya has told them we will train today.
Finally, the hukron beastboys move on with their disgusting pile of fish and eel guts, and I step forward. Krato eyes me as he throws the goat carcasses, still intact and bleeding, onto our cart.
“How do I bring the draken out?” I ask without greeting and his bushy eyebrows—out of place on his bald head—rise. Jemes stiffens beside me.
“The devils know how to leave—be prepared to use the harness though. You lose one of the Ja’s draken, he’ll skin you alive, no matter what your purchase price.”
I smile, not doubting for a moment he’s telling the truth.
“There’s a practice field for the beasts, around the mountain. Take your draken there. I’ll let the other boys know you’ll have use of it today,” Krato says and pushes the other dead goats at me. Jemes loads them quickly and I mumble my thanks and we turn away.
“They want to train?” Jemes asks, when we are alone.
I shrug. “Most probably don’t even realize we will. Miwya wasn’t very specific.”
Jemes comes to a standstill behind me, and his eyes are wide, a hint of amusement filling his psyche. “He told you his name?”
I nod and Jemes laughs softly. I fan my wings, ignoring the nearby premthas. Their Eleyi beastboy watches me with loathing and I blow a kiss. Jemes touches my arm. “Don’t antagonize them.”
I look up at him guiltily. His narrow face is creased with worry. He has enough to worry about without me adding to it.
The draken are awake and restless when we push the hovercart into their cave. I inhale the scent that never gets old: smoke and spice and blood and the wild incense that I cannot name, but that soothes me.
I throw the first goat into the middle of the cavern, and as it arches into the air, Miwya releases a plume of fire, searing it before catching it neatly in his massive jaws. The others hiss and grumble, but it lacks heat.
-They know we’re training,- he says, startling me, and I almost drop the goat I am wrestling with. His eyes are amused. -They are anxious to leave the cave, little Le.-
I grin, and toss the goat out as Jemes rolls a rock to the ground. Opening my thoughts to all of them, I send, -Then they should eat quickly.-
A rustle of scales and wings and laughter echo like thunder in my mind before they settle to their meal. Jemes pushes out the last boulder, and it rolls a few feet before the small grey snatches it close to her, her claws leaving deep gouges in the stone. The sound of her teeth grinding on the rock makes my skin crawl, but it keeps her claws sharp and digestion smooth.
“What are you going to have them do?” Jemes asks me.
I’ve been considering it. “When they fight in the arena, what are draken pitted against?”
“A phalanx of glads,” he answers, and it makes me wince. Ten glads for a draken is unfair, to both sides of the fight. “Sometimes, a pride of premthas or a pair of hukron. Sometimes, each other.”
I turn to him, my eyes wide, sure he is wrong. “They fight each other?” I demand and Jemes nods. Miwya is watching me, lazy after his two goats. I feel sick as I watch the draken, the way they seem to care for the small grey, the blue-black male nudging a choice piece of goat toward her. They are so twisted around each other, that even without the illusion of smoke and shadow, I struggle to define which is which.
They care for each other and the Ja pits them against each other in the arena? Rage bubbles in me, and it disturbs them. The blue-black hisses. -She is too temperamental, Miwya.-
-Enough, Meinia,- Miwya rumbles, and he looks at me, wide golden eyes searching, as if trying to determine something.
“I won’t fight them against each other,” I say fiercely, and Jemes mutters a curse. The draken are still, quiet, and then the grey—the small female—snakes her head out, appraising me with pale blue eyes. The others seem to still, watching her. -I am Natsu,- she says at last. I feel a flash of approval from Miwya, and then she bugles, shifting to stand. Her wings spread and I feel the hot air in the cave stir, quivering as she pushes herself into the air. The cave is too dark for me to see the top, but I watch her. All of us watch her as she spirals higher, and catches her claws on the wall of rock.
-It’s a tunnel, Chosi’le,- she says. I watch as she snakes her way into a tunnel that I cannot see.
The other draken are beginning to rouse themselves, and Miwya says amusedly, -Go, Le. We will join you—before you arrive, I would wager.-
The twin moons and sun beating down on me are less intrusive than the cold gaze of Prator. I feel Jemes worry as he simulates another attack.
-The hukron hides are too thick to burn, but they won’t handle the heat well because they are water creatures,- I coach Sora, the thin speckled grey. -You can stun it with fire, and then pin it.-
Jemes starts the holostim, and a hukron bellows, charging across the sands. Sora hisses, crouching down, wings tucked to his sides, fury warring with fear in his mind.
-No!- I shout, -Open your wings! Use your size to intimidate him!-
Too late. The hukron tusks slam into Sora’s hind legs, tearing into his tail, and the draken screams. Perched on the mountainside, the others scream back until the air is filled with the music of the anger and commiseration.
I glance at Jemes, and he kills the holostim, and the draken falls back, hissing in confusion.
-You can intimidate them, remember?- I say, struggling to keep my voice patient. -Use your wings to startle it. Miwya, come demonstrate.-
The big black drops to the sands, and I shove down my shiver of fear. Miwya is large enough that a hukron wouldn’t stand a chance, even as ungainly and ponderous as draken are on the ground.
“Again, Jemes,” I order, the nape of my neck itching from Prator’s gaze.
The hukron appears again, and Miwya’s head snakes down, hissing. As the large amphibious creature rushe
s across the sands, my black flares his wings, blocking the sun for a heartbeat. And the hukron stumbles, missing his stride at the sight. Miwya spits fire, and the hukron screams in the fire inferno.
-Now,- I shout, and Miwya slams his long tail on the hukron as he lashes out with razor-sharp claws, claws sharp enough to slice through the scaly hide of the hukron. Blood spews for a moment, and then the thick skin closes over, holding it in.
It’s dying, choking on its own blood. A grisly way to go, that.
The simulated match ends, the dying hukron vanishing. -That is what you need to do, Sora,- I say, exhausted.
-Yes, lady,- he says, and he sounds so contrite I flash a smile.
-Go. Jemes and I will be there shortly with your goats. It was a good day,- I tell him, and pleasure bursts from them, firing through me like brilliant fireworks. I laugh.
“Prator is still here, Brielle,” Jemes murmurs as he approaches, and my smile fades. What does he want? Doesn’t he have a jakta to run?
I gather up my discarded whip and Jemes’ shirt, and turn to Prator. “Sir,” I say respectfully.
“You do well with them,” he says, watching as Miwya leads the others into the tunnel.
I shrug. “It’s not that hard. If I can get the big black to demonstrate, the others usually remember what to do next time.”
He frowns at me. “You realize we’ve never had a beastboy with this kind of success. Not so soon. Usually the draken eat them after a few days.”
A laugh bursts from me. “Isn’t that why you made me their trainer?”
He holds something out, and for a moment, I can’t place the small device. Why does it look familiar? I recognize it suddenly—the harness Krato ordered me to use, the one I’ve studiously ignored. My stomach sinks and I step back. “I don’t need that, sir.”
He toys with the laser harness. “Brielle, you need to use this.”
“I don’t,” I insist. “You said yourself, I’m having success. Why introduce something that will threaten that?”
Gentle Chains (The Eleyi Saga Book 1) Page 14