We both jump when Tinex hammers on the door. She calls out and it glides open, revealing her worried looking bodyguard. “Comm link, Sadi. Larkin says it’s urgent.”
Alarm flares through her before she nods. He keys up a command, and the wall behind her bed dissolves into a screen. Larkin is rumpled, exhausted, his face dirty. What the hell happened that could so dishevel such an orderly man?
“What is it, Larkin?” Sadi says, pulling her hair loose and letting it spill down her back.
“Ms. Renult, where are you?” His voice is odd, strangely tense.
“Pente,” she answers, tugging her boots off. “Why?”
“You need to come home. Now. Academi is out of your way; I’ll send an aide for Zoe.”
Sadi is very still, her boot half-zipped as she looks at the screen, at the tidy man who orders her father’s life. “Why? Why do I need to come home?”
Larkin’s face twists, and even without being able to sense his psyche, I can see grief written on his face, so plain and obvious. “I’m so sorry, Sadiene. It’s your father. He was shot this morning.”
-I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.- I stand at the viewfinder, watching Pente recede as the Leen careens into space. Already, Chosi is so distant, too far for me to fully touch her mind. There is only the slightest flicker of acknowledgement, and then she closes her mind. Even though I know she feels my regret, for a moment I wonder if Henri has been telling the truth. Maybe Chosi’le does want to stay here. Maybe in some strange way, she is happy.
“You could still stay,” Brando says from behind me, his voice hoarse. I shrug, and shake my head.
No, I can’t. I can’t desert her when she needs me, no matter how much Chosi’le does. I force myself to say what I’ve refused to think about, until now. Even letting the words form hurts something deep inside me. “Chosi doesn’t want me here. And Sadi needs me now. Henri won’t kill her before I come back.”
“She appreciates you being here,” he says and I snort. That was pure speculation and we both know it. It has been less than two hours since Larkin called us back to New Earth, two hours since the bombshell that still seems to rin-g in every corner of the ship. Sadi nodded, a tiny gesture of acceptance, told Tin to plot a course, and ordered us from her bedroom. She hasn’t emerged since.
“Is she going to be like this the entire way to New Earth?” I ask, following the bodyguard to the bridge. Tin is half sleeping, the ship perfectly capable of flying itself.
Brando shrugs and slides into his seat. “There are very few things Sadi relies on. Her father will always be a shadow over her life, and I will always keep her safe. One of those things has just been threatened, and it has left her shaken. She’s pulling away, which is normal for Sadi. Give her time.”
I bite my tongue, thinking time is something we seem short on. I force myself to I focus on Brando. His psyche is coated with guilt and I think I understand why. The Senator has been attacked. Larkin refused to give us any more details than that over an open comm link. As head of security, Brando will shoulder most of the blame, even if he was halfway across the galaxy when the attack occurred. -It wasn’t your fault.-
He looks back, giving me a vicious glare. I meet it evenly, daring him to disagree. Irritated, he turns back to the control panel.
“How long until we reach New Earth?” I ask.
The Leen says, bleakly, “Seventy-two hours.”
I stare into space, the star-speckled black racing past. And wonder if seventy-two hours is too long.
Chapter 35
Juhan’tr
The Senatorial estate on New Earth dwarfs the one at the Capitol. And it’s gorgeous, all wild growth forest, waving fields of corn and hay, and massive orchards of fragrant apples and tiny cherry trees heavy with lush blossoms. The house is a large, three-story affair with large river rocks helping it to blend into the natural setting. A pasture of rolling grass holds a small herd of horses, nibbling lazily, looking up as the Leen streaks overhead, heading for one of the outlying buildings where the Senator’s staff works.
-This is where you grew up?- I ask her, not bothering to contain my shock.
She rests a hand on my shoulder, and I reach up, squeezing it. -It was a good place to call home,- she says softly.
“They know we’re here,” Tin says, and I glance at where he is looking. Zoe is standing with a tall bodyguard, Larkin neatly dressed despite the exhaustion that makes him sway. Or maybe it’s not exhaustion; maybe it’s the force of the Leen’s thrusters as we hover and settle.
“Daddy isn’t with them,” Sadi says, her voice empty. I search her psyche for some clue to how she’s feeling but she is blank, utterly empty, and it worries me. I almost reach for her, but the ramp to the Leen slides open and I am hit with the feelings of Zoe and Larkin.
Grief. Choking, so thick I gag and cough, trying to clear the bitter taste from my tongue. Sadi glances at me, curious but not—not really. I reach out, catching her arm, and she shakes me off without meeting my eyes.
Hurt, I stumble after her.
“Where is he?” Sadi asks, her voice quiet and empty.
“Sadiene, I’m—” Larkin begins but she holds up a hand, stopping his words.
“Where?”
“His suite,” Zoe answers, her voice so rough with tears I barely recognize it as hers. Sadi nods once and turns, stalking across the perfectly manicured lawn, crushing flowers under her boots as she goes. I don’t know what I expected of Sadi’s home, but this isn’t it.
“Juhan,” Zoe says, startling me from my thoughts, “go with her.”
I hesitate. She might not want me, but I’m free, and her emotions are too unstable for me to trust her alone. Spreading my wings, I fly across the lawn to land at her side. Her eyes flick to me for a moment, to my wings, but she doesn’t say anything as she mounts the stairs to the front door. The large, airy foyer is empty. From the utter quiet, I wonder if the entire house might be.
Wordlessly, she climbs the stairs to Harvine’s suite and I catch her hand, offering what little support I can. I should do more; I just don’t know how. The door she finally stops in front of is closed, and I can sense no one on the other side. I open my mouth to warn her, but she shakes her head quickly, and shoves it open.
Sadi moves to the bed like a sleepwalker, her expression dazed as she stares at the shell of what used to be her father. She sinks onto the side of the bed, and it barely disturbs the body.
“He looks peaceful,” she murmurs, her voice so blank it sends a chill up my spine. I glance at him. “Daddy never looked this peaceful.”
I reach out, touching her gently on the arm. She looks up at me, tears glittering in her eyes, looking for the first time since I have met her, dangerously close to falling apart. “What can I do?”
“I don’t understand,” she says, “I don’t get how this could happen. He has security—a team trained by Brando of all people. He isn’t even working on legislation that’s controversial. Why now, after all the years on the Senate, why now?”
“You don’t know that he was targeted,” I counter. She laughs, slightly hysterical. And I know she’s right—who would accidentally kill someone as high-profile as Senator Harvine of New Earth? And who would do something that stupid while on his home planet? It was an open secret that the people of New Earth adored their Senator, adored his stance on things like slavery.
That he died the day after I attacked a jakta and burned an arena is something I am trying hard not to think about.
She’s right, and the thought makes my blood run cold. The Senator was targeted, purposely killed on his own planet. Of all places in the galaxy, he should have been safe here.
I wrap an arm around her, and we sit in silence next to her dead father, listening to the soft buzz of the fan. -What will you do?- I ask, when her tears have finally slowed.
She straightens, and I feel the core of angry stubbornness seething inside her, pushing aside grief and guilt. -I’m going to find the bas
tards who killed my father.-
“Daddy liked having his staff on the grounds,” Sadi says to me, leading the way through the hedge maze toward the imposing block building that intrudes and clashes with the natural beauty of the estate. “It started when we were younger. It was easiest to work from home, where we were.”
“What about your mother?” I ask, aware suddenly that both this lovely estate and this strong woman-child should have a female figure guiding and shaping them.
A sorrow, old and sweet, passes her psyche and Sadi murmurs, “Mother died when I was a little girl. A plague that swept New Earth—do you remember it?”
I nod, even though I don’t. New Earth is not much studied on Eleyiar, not when Others are so much more dangerous to us. “There was one time we thought Daddy might remarry. But the truth is, he was happy being married to his work, and we didn’t want a stepmother. And he never quite stopped loving Mother,” she adds, sniffling a little.
“He raised you alone?” I say, startled, “As busy as he was?”
“He had the help of the staff. We were never neglected,” she says sharply and I send a wordless apology that makes her relax. She steps out of the maze, and continues, “By the time he was elected to the IPS, I was headed to Academi, and Zoe was in the care of her governess. He did his best, and it was a good childhood, even if it was unconventional.”
I silently compare it to mine, surrounded constantly by the emotions and affirmations of my mother, my father, and sister, a house of laughter and worry and love. The quiet murmur of my parents’ voices when I was in my hammock waiting for sleep, the gentle press of my sister’s thoughts.
Sadi’s isolated upbringing by a Senatorial staff is alien, incomprehensible to me. I shake my head to clear the thought of it as we enter the large building.
The foyer is packed, staff and aides standing around looking stunned and crying, security teams clustered near the doors, throwing glances at Brando where he stands at Zoe’s shoulder.
Larkin sits alone, looking utterly lost in a sea of grief. Sadi goes to him, and sits on the couch at his side, her eyes gentle. “I need to know what happened, Larkin,” she says, softly.
“We were leaving the Terra League building,” he says, voice blank. “A routine vote—the League didn’t support the new games passed by the IPS. They wanted Danick to change it, and he argued with them.” A bitter expression twists his face. “They expected the impossible from him. He was one Senator, one of hundreds. They expected him to do miracles and move mountains. It was absurd.”
“Larkin,” Sadi snaps, and the man focuses on her.
“We were stopped as we were leaving. The emissary wanted a word. It was crowded, and I moved away—for a moment, lady; I swear it was only a moment.” Tears are standing in his eyes, falling down his cheeks, his hands trembling as they clench around Sadi’s. “It happened so fast. I was three steps away, waiting for the hover, and people were screaming and my god, there was so much blood.” He collapses against Sadi, sobbing, and she murmurs softly into his hair, something useless and soothing as he cries. “It’s my fault, Sadiene. I should have done something!”
Brando crouches next to Larkin. “Stop,” he says harshly. “Because unless you somehow neglected to mention pulling a trigger, I don’t see how this could possibly be your fault.”
“I should have been there, shielded him somehow.”
“You’re his chief of staff, Larkin,” Brando hisses, “not the fucking chief of security. That’s my job and I was watching an arena burn while our Senator lay dying.”
“Stop,” Sadi whispers, but it cuts like a knife through the room, stilling both men and an argument that is growing ridiculous. “It’s none of our faults. The fault lies with the shooter. Do we know who it was? Or why?”
Larkin nods. “It was a Pente, Sadiene. He killed himself, but we assume it was in protest to the Senator’s stance on the Centuriad games.”
Sadi has gone white, and sways. I reach for her and she flinches, pulling away and standing, making it one motion so as not to worry the audience of staff around us.
“You are, of course, all invited to the funeral,” she says, her voice strong, despite the shock filling her psyche. “But if you would kindly give us time, as a family, to grieve.”
It’s a dismissal, and they seem surprised. She hesitates, then: “I would like to speak to you all, the day after the funeral. If you could find an hour or so.”
A few heads nod in acknowledgement, but most turn and file away. I’d be surprised if any of them did not return to hear what Sadiene Renult has to say.
She stands with her back to us the entire time the staff files out, and finally, as the door clangs shut for the last time, as Brando murmurs orders to the six men on the Senator’s security team, I go to her. “Sadi, there is no way you could have known—”
“You think I blame myself for this?” she interrupts, turning to me with wide eyes.
Of course she does. How could she not?
She laughs, a low, incredulous sound. “That’s amazing; it really is. Especially for a psychic as strong as you. You can burn arenas, and the ripples of your leeching can be felt a fucking galaxy away, but you can’t read that I think ALL of this is your fault?” She’s screaming now.
Zoe gives us a confused look. “What are you talking about?”
“Tell her,” Sadi snaps.
Anger flares in my chest and I narrow my eyes. “I’m not your slave. You cannot order me to do whatever you wish,” I say, my voice low.
A cold smile fills her eyes and she twists. “A Pente killed our father. A Pente, who has no real reason to hate him, assassinated a sitting Senator of New Earth. Why would he do something so bloody stupid?” she asks, her voice dripping disdain. “Oh, I know! A fucking insane Eleyi burned one of their arenas and threatened a jakta, freed their draken. Could that have anything to do with this, you think?”
Zoe goes pale and looks at me, anger simmering in her aura. “This is his fault?”
It is. I burned a damn arena with her at my side, exposed my entire race—and Sadi. Guilt washes over me, and I struggle to make sense of it. I did what was needed. Sadi doesn’t matter, can’t matter. I’m confused, and feeling the sisters’ anger, my temper snaps and I jerk forward, grabbing Sadi by the arms and shaking her. “Is it my fault I was enslaved and sold to a rich little bitch who likes to play games with people’s lives? Or that my sister was sold to a psychopath?” I shake her again. “I’m sorry about your father; I truly am. But I will do anything for Chosi’le. Anything.”
I don’t know if I’m trying to convince her or myself.
The blow catches me by surprise. I had expected one to the back, Brando defending Sadi. I don’t expect her to twist suddenly, to bring her hand up and catch me full in the face with the heel of her palm. Pain explodes in my vision, my eyes tearing as I release her and stumble away.
I catch her intent a split second before her foot clips my forehead and I drop like a stone into blackness.
Chapter 36
Chosi’le
Prator is waiting in my rooms when I stumble in and for once, I am too exhausted to care. For four days, I’ve done nothing but work, throwing myself into training to bury the memory of my brother with his hurt eyes as I tell him I’m happy a slave.
I keep hoping if I am tired enough, I won’t dream.
“I can make this easier,” he says, and I sigh, dragging myself into my tiny shower stall and stripping out of my clothes. “You know I can.”
“Your price is too steep, Prator,” I call back, stepping into the water. A flutter goes through me and I shiver. That I am naked and he is here is enough to pierce my exhaustion and fill me with fear.
He’s quiet while I shower, waiting until I have redressed and stepped out of the cubicle. “You know, the Ja has agreed to lead the Pente participating in the Centuriad games.”
Rumors of a special exhibit for the Century of Peace are spreading, but I’ve been too focused on
my brother and my work to consider it. I shrug.
“Ja will force you to fight,” he murmurs, pressing against my back, too close.
I stiffen and turn, facing him. “Then I’ll die with my pride intact,” I murmur.
“The winner will receive their freedom.”
The word hangs in the air, tantalizing and lovely and intangible. “Freedom,” I say bitterly, “is something I’ll never have. Argot will never let me go.”
He’s quiet, not bothering to argue with me. I open the door, tilting my head back to the sun and moons and let a memory of Juhan, standing quiet and violent and fierce at Sadi’s shoulder, surface. For the first time, I allow myself think of him, of all he has sacrificed, and something snaps in me. I turn back to Prator, staring at him. “I know your price, Prator. But here’s mine: no one must know. I don’t want your protection; I don’t want the Ja to know. I will fight for him. I will do anything that is asked of me. And you will ensure my draken are safe, and I can earn my emancipation. Freedom without repercussions or threats. And until then, I want to Speak to Juhan.” I pause, taking in his psyche—surprise, lust, apprehension—and add, “And you’ll get that bitch Catelyn to leave me alone.”
“That is your price?”
I smile coldly and nod, reaching for the heavy minds of my draken and letting them surround me. “Meet it, and I will meet yours.”
I close the door on him, feeling somehow lighter, and let the sun warm my face, unfurling my wings to let them breathe in the air.
And I reach for my brother.
Chapter 37
Juhan’tr
The bed I’m in is uncomfortable. It’s scratchy. The blanket is suffocating and pins my wings. And it’s too dark, a kind of darkness that I only knew on Eleyiar where city lights are dimmed before the sun truly sets to avoid the attention of passing slavers.
Gentle Chains (The Eleyi Saga Book 1) Page 29