“I wouldn’t hurt Sadi. If I was going to, don’t you think I would have done so by now?” I ask quietly.
He looks uncomfortable for a long minute, and then I let my eyes drop. Sadi motions to Tin as I stretch, and the other man slips away. She’s quiet as I sit up. Somehow, we’ve ended up in my bed, and it occurs to me it is far too small for the two of us. I rub a hand over my face, aware of the scent of smoke still clinging to me.
“How bad is it?” I ask.
“Bad enough. The Producers are calling for your head.” She offers me a smile, but it’s sick and forced. I can feel the questions swirling through her and for a heartbeat I consider demonstrating what I can do rather than explaining. Then I remember the signed papers, the faith she’s put into me, and I ignore the urge. “I didn’t realize you were this strong. Even on Renlarte, it…it was different,” she says softly.
“You know that Eleyi can pick your thoughts up? How we can read your emotions?” She nods and I shrug. “Not all of us can do that. The weakest Eleyi can’t do more psychically than any Other. The range of strength goes from the very weak to the strong, the Eleyi that even we shun. Eleyi who are so psychically talented, mental walls mean nothing. They can see every thought and secret without even trying. They can make you do anything. For them, it takes effort to not impose their will, over those around them. To not shape the world and the elements.”
She looks sick, but swallows. “Is that what you can do?”
I laugh. “No. I’ve only ever met one Eleyi that strong, a hermit by choice. My tutor forced me to visit. I’m strong, though. Stronger than most. Some Eleyi speculate twins are born strong, because we communicate psychically even in the womb. My tutor taught me to do more though. With a little effort and the right kind of mind—gladiators, who are used to taking orders, for instance—I can impose my will on those around me. I can force a draken to go berserk, and break its chains.” My voice is quiet, and she’s still. So still sitting next to me, almost as if she is afraid to disturb me. “I can make gladiators stand still in the face of an attack, not defending themselves. I can order them to kill each other, to kill themselves. And I can manipulate the destruction they cause until there is nothing left. Nothing but ashes—that’s what I did to the assassins. I killed them, Sadi.”
I feel her shock, her revulsion, feel it thicken in the room before she takes a deep breath and the emotions are gone, almost as if they’d never existed.
Except, I know.
“Why has no one ever known this?” she asks.
I laugh, the noise slightly hysterical even to my ears. “What would happen, do you think? Would the Senators and politicians want Eleyi for spies? Would the Scarlet Stain still want them in the bedrooms? Serving as bodyguards and advisors and the myriad of other positions? If the galaxy knew, how easy do you think they would sleep, knowing their slave could do more than kill, but could force their owners to kill themselves? The galaxy would rise up to slaughter us. It wouldn’t matter that less than five percent of Eleyi are capable of this kind of psychic manipulation. They would kill us all.”
I finally look at her and see the indecision in her eyes. She wants to argue with me, but she knows I’m right. “So why now? Why risk your people?”
“I told you. I will do anything to get my sister back.”
She nods and stands, wiping her hands on her loose pants. “Get cleaned up. We’re going to be called before the Producers tonight, and it might help if you didn’t look like you’ve been burning down arenas.”
She begins to leave and I catch her hand. -You don’t have to stay, Sadi. I understand if you don’t want to be involved. And I am free now.-
She comes back and kisses my forehead, a soft benediction. -Idiot. I’m not going anywhere while you’re in danger. Besides, I promised I’d help you find your sister if you made the IPS see your people as more than slaves.-
I wince. -All the more reason to leave.-
She shrugs. “Or maybe this is the best thing you could have done. Maybe it will make people look at the Eleyi differently.” I give her a skeptical look and she laughs. “Different, I said. Not better.”
She gives me a smile that almost hides her unease and leaves me alone to shower. As the water washes over me, I reach for Brando’s mind. -How many dead?-
-Thirty. Eighteen gladiators, a dozen staff and patrons,- he answers matter-of-factly. And there is the difference. Sadi will be uneasy, and Tinex will be afraid. But Brando has killed before, when he rescued Sadi from the kidnappers.
-How many did you kill to get Sadi back?- I ask.
-As many as it took.-
I hesitate and then, -How do you live with it?-
He’s sad when he answers, the kind of exhausted knowledge that pulls at me. -You do your best to forget the worst you’ve done and you hold onto the reason for it. You realize it’s always going to be different. Something will always be different. Sometimes I think it’s just because people see you differently, after. Or maybe it’s because killing like I did—like you’ve done—requires killing something in yourself. And being that broken causes you to change.”
It’s the longest thing I’ve ever heard him say and every word rings painfully true. I start to retreat but he says something, maybe the only thing that will help. -Whatever I have done, however I have changed, I would do it again. There is no sacrifice I would not have made, and while I sometimes regret their deaths, I’ve never regretted saving her, whatever the cost.-
He is quiet and open for a moment, almost as if waiting for me to say something else. When I don’t, he withdraws enough that I can no longer read his thoughts and I finish my shower.
Chapter 33
Chosi’le
“I know you’re awake.”
The voice startles me enough that I open my eyes and stare at Prator in wide-eyed confusion. The last thing I remember was my arena match, facing premthas and then fire—everywhere. “Where am I?”
“My private quarters. Henri won’t let anyone see you.”
I shiver at the worry in his voice and psyche and bite my tongue to hold back the questions. He watches me and shakes his head, seeing them in my eyes. “Henri gave orders. No one talks to you until he does.” He stands, walking toward the door.
“Prator, are they dead?” I ask, my voice shaking. His eyes dart to mine and knowledge flickers there for a heartbeat before he is gone. I shiver, almost giddy in my relief as I fall back onto the bed. Smoke clings to me, and I frown. I’m still in the clothes I fought in.
Argot storms in, his anger leading like another person. I shrink back, suddenly terrified. I thought I had seen Ja Argot angry. Now, I realize I haven’t. And in his anger, he’s terrifying.
He slams his fist into my jaw and I see black spots as pain becomes my entire world, narrowed into this—just this. I would scream, but it hurts to scream, hurts to breathe, hurts to do anything but exist.
“I thought you cared about them,” he says softly, and I whimper, trying to form words. “Do you realize what you did? No one will come near my jakta. Four draken were freed with his fire; do you realize that?” he says, casually and he is even more terrifying for the quiet calm when so much anger seethes in his psyche.
“Ja, I’m sorry. I’m sorry; I didn’t do anything. I told him to leave,” I beg, hating how weak I sound.
Argot laughs, a harsh bark of noise. “You expect me to believe that? He burnt the arena.”
I gasp, shaking my head. “No. He didn’t. He couldn’t.”
Argot leans back. “I assure you, it’s true, Brielle. He took great pleasure in letting us know it was his doing.”
For a moment, I forget him and his anger, lost in thought. Juhan revealed his—our—secret to Argot? Why? Nothing is worth that, nothing has ever been worth it. “What will you do?” I ask, my voice shaking.
He straightens, disgust plain on his features. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
He keys a command into the mini-tablet I just now notice, a
nd Jereth appears, looking anxious and impatient. “Argot. I’ve heard about you recently in the newsfeed,” he says immediately and I cringe under my owner’s withering glare.
“I have an answer for the Senators.” Argot says, smoothly. “As for my favor? I want someone killed.”
I shriek in panic, surging up in the bed, and Prator clamps a hand on me, yanking me back down. I thrash for a moment and he leans down, hissing, “Listen, you bloody fool.”
“Senator Harvine of New Earth. I don’t want it traced back to me, but see that it’s done. And I’ll consider whatever the hell you want.”
Relief spreads across the Senator’s face like a rising sun, and he grins. “Is that all? It’ll be done by morning on New Earth.”
Argot nods and ends the transmission. And I stare at him, my owner who has so casually ordered the death of a Senator even I recognize.
“Why?”
He frowns. “Because I can. Because it will get him off Pente and away from you. I won’t allow you to single-handedly destroy what I’ve spent years building.”
He turns on his heel and stalks out of the room, throwing the words over his shoulder. “You’re still expected to fight. Get up and train before I give the draken to someone else.”
Chapter 34
Juhan’tr
Politicians look the same no matter the planet they come from. The Producers—the five Pente elected by jakta owners and arena managers and patrons—are furious. I can feel it washing out of the room into which we are ushered, washing over me. Once, it might have been overwhelming. It might have threatened to drown me. Now, I simply brush it aside and stride forward, ignoring their fury in favor of the calm, almost bland expressions they turn on us. If they want to play a game of politics, I will.
“Ms. Renult, Juhan’tr, thank you so much for agreeing to see us.”
Sadi smiles. I wonder how anyone in the galaxy can think that is anything but a mask. “Of course. It’s the very least we could do.”
I don’t bother to smile, barely even acknowledge them. I’m here because Sadi begged—demanded, as much as someone without papers of ownership can. And I do owe her something. There is that.
“Are you hungry? There are refreshments,” the female Producer, Viria Andal, says, waving at the girl standing in a corner. Sadi nods, even though I want to scream, want to demand to know what they want, what they will do to Henri.
-Patience, sweetheart,- Sadi says, brushing against me as she moves to sit with Viria.
Another approaches me with a genial smile. He studies me, and I can feel the narrowing of his thoughts, the questions and suspicions swirling behind his mental walls.
I have a sudden urge to topple them, to sweep into his mind and make him mine so completely he would never realize he was anything else. It would be easy, ridiculously easy, and he could order Argot to release Chosi’le from her slavery.
The thought dances, tantalizing before me as the fool prattles about something and the other Producers eye me with disdain and fear. And Sadi twists, a smile on her lips that isn’t fake, because it’s for me. She calls to me, and I let the idea slip away, let my grip on Jemison—when did I do that?—relax.
Something flickers behind the Producer’s eyes, but I ignore him, going instead to Sadi and sitting too close to her.
The girl returns with a tray of Pente delicacies: flakey pastries smeared with a paste of nuts and fruit, sand ants dipped in chocolate, tiny squares of heavy cakes and extravagantly decorated truffles. For a moment, the Producers busy themselves sitting, reaching for the food, claiming glasses of wine. Sadi nibbles a cream cake, and I sit with an arm around her. She’s nervous.
“The fire was absolutely horrible. A tragic accident,” Viria says, and my eyes go to her. She’s pretty, an older woman with worry wrinkles and a warm smile. And a mind sharper than the other Producers, one that is too suspicious by half.
“It was awful,” Sadi agrees, lowering the cake.
I shrug. “A risk that comes with draken, I assume.”
Viria nods. “Of course.”
“Odd, though.” It’s one of the other Producers. “Draken have never broken free in an arena. It’s rare even in the jaktas.”
“I suppose there’s a first time for everything,” I answer lazily.
Sadi puts a hand on my knee, and I quiet, leaning back. “Do you know yet what happened?” she asks, and this time her emotions aren’t fake. The worry in her voice is all real.
“Well, that’s what we wanted to talk to you about, dear,” Viria says, almost apologetic. “See, my colleagues here, they think—” She hesitates.
“What?” I ask, very softly, looking at the Producers.
“We think it was caused by you,” one says bluntly.
I laugh. Even knowing it was coming, it’s amusing, their air of offended indignation. “How, exactly, could he do that?” Sadi asks, amused.
The Producers shift, but Viria answers, “Henri Argot says you threatened him. He claims that you controlled the beasts, controlled the gladiators, and forced them to kill each other.”
“Which is complete nonsense,” I say, and I weave my words with enough conviction that it wraps around them, becomes their own. Except Viria. “I’m an Eleyi. We’re peaceful, and even if we weren’t, we can’t manipulate people.”
One of the Producers is nodding, and another looks sympathetic. Viria’s eyes narrow a little. “Eleyi are psychic. There’s no telling what you can do.”
“Have you met one who could do what you claim?” Sadi asks, and the woman reluctantly shakes her head. “Then it’s hardly fair to threaten my consort, or detain us, on only the words of an angry jakta owner.”
“That jakta owner is a respected member of our community,” Viria snaps, “while you and your consort are not.”
Sadi’s eyes flash. “I’m Sadiene Renult-Harvine. Do you truly doubt my word?”
Viria doesn’t answer and one of the others speaks up. “Of course not, lady.”
I cock my head at Viria. “Why would I burn down the arena? What gain is there for me?”
She opens her mouth, then hesitates and shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
Leaning forward, I smile at her and select a pastry. “Before you accuse someone of stripping the will of gladiators, of releasing draken and burning an arena, you might bother to learn if there’s a motive. And you might consider if angering such a person is wise. After all, if I had done such a thing, what’s to stop me from doing it again?”
The Producer’s eyes narrow but she holds my gaze and I almost like her for it. Almost.
“Henri Argot has demanded recompense for his draken. Two in that arena had just been purchased by him. He’s also demanding you be Exiled from Pente.”
Sadi is shaking her head. “That’s ridiculous. Argot has no proof that any of this was our fault. Why on earth would Juhan’tr set fire to an arena he was in? That his sister was in?”
Viria’s eyes widen and I reach for Sadi. -Don’t bring her into this.-
She stops abruptly, as if aware she’s said something she shouldn’t but I can see the Producer’s mind working, puzzling over this new information. She stands abruptly. “You’re right, Ms. Renult. It would be ridiculous to punish you for something we cannot prove.”
Sadi stands as well, albeit slower. She stares at the Producer. “That’s all then?”
The other Producers stand with us, smiling as we leave, and I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. This was too easy. I tuck Sadi close, and touch Brando and Tin. -I don’t trust them.-
They nod, and together we hurry back to the Leen. I smile and Sadi glances up. “What is so amusing?”
“This is exactly how it felt when we met, and first went to the Leen.”
She laughs suddenly and from behind us, Tin mutters, “If we can make the ship without another assassination attempt, all the better.”
“Another attempt?” Brando hisses and suddenly I’m laughing at the absurdity o
f it all. Sadi grins over at me and I spread my wings to shelter her as we hurry to the safety of our ship.
On board, Brando brushes past us, headed to the bridge. “We need to get off-planet.”
“What?” I stop cold. “What are you talking about?”
Brando pauses, looking at me. “We aren’t leaving. But we’ll be safer off-planet, or at least somewhere the Producers aren’t on our doorstep. I know what your priority is. I understand it. Mine is Sadi’s safety.”
“I can’t leave,” she says softly and Brando curses. “I promised him, Brando,”
“Your father is going to be furious,” he says, almost wearily. As if he knows there was no point arguing.
Sadi goes on tiptoes and kisses him softly on the lips, startling both of us, before heading to her room. “I’ll tell him.”
I follow her into her bedroom, and the door slides shut behind us. I can feel the shadow of my freedom hanging over us like a brilliant cloud, begging to be acknowledged. “Will you tell me why?” I ask, toying with the papers I’ve been carrying since I signed them.
She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t pretend not to understand my meaning. “Because you were right. I can hardly expect you to change the perception of slaves when you are a slave.” She pauses and then adds, “And because I saw how much you hated it. How much it has changed you. I don’t want to be the one holding the leash that you despise.”
I catch her as she steps away, catch her tiny face between my hands and tilt her head back, so that I can see her expression. It’s carefully empty, her mental walls up so that I get no sense of what she is feeling, if she feels anything. Nervous for some reason, I lick my lips and her eyes dart down, following the quick movement. Startled, I almost release her, almost push her away. Catch myself before I can, knowing it will hurt her and she doesn’t deserve that. Instead, I wrap my gratitude around her and kiss her forehead, whispering, -Thank you, Sadi.-
Gentle Chains (The Eleyi Saga Book 1) Page 28