Change of Darkness

by Jacinta Jade

  She had dreamed that Chezran and Pyron were fighting … yet it had seemed so real.

  And she had had similar dreams before. She couldn’t remember all of them, but some she could. Siraay pulled her knees up to her chest and brushed a long section of her red hair away from her face. Now that she thought about it, the voices in the dreams that she—or rather, her former self—had had sounded remarkably like Pyron’s and Chezran’s voices in her most recent dream.

  She looked at the blanket gathered around her knees, not really seeing it. Was it possible to have dreams about real events? How would she know for certain?

  Siraay scanned her memory of the dream last night, trying to piece it together in her mind.

  Prophecy.

  Chezran had spoken of a prophecy.

  ‘Trelar.’ Siraay spoke the name quietly. If her servant was anywhere about the room, she would hear her name.

  Silence.

  Siraay sighed. Oh well. The female probably wouldn’t know the answers she was after, anyway. They had, after all, technically grown up together and studied in the same cycle class. And Siraay couldn’t remember anything about a prophecy.

  She needed someone who would know about this type of thing. Someone who knew many things …

  Siraay smiled to herself as she realised who she could ask.

  ***

  She got down to the training hall just as the sun was actually beginning to climb into the sky. This time, she found the room empty, which was a relief after her encounter with Pyron yesterday.

  Annoyingly, she still had the shadows of bruises on her neck, despite the time she had spent before and after her meal last night lounging in front of the fire as a sevonix.

  She wasn’t even sure what time she had actually gotten into her large bed for the night, but the fire had been low and the coals red hot.

  Yet she was sure she must have been in her sevonix form long enough to have healed the injury.

  Unless Pyron had done more damage than she’d originally thought. Siraay shrugged. She’d spend more time in her feline form today anyway, which should take care of it.

  Footsteps approaching from behind made Siraay spin around, and Loce raised his hands, palms outwards.

  ‘Whoa, someone is keen this morning.’

  Siraay relaxed slightly. Not Pyron. ‘Yeah. I’m eager to work.’

  ‘And I hear you’re also going out on patrol today.’

  ‘You heard that, hey?’ She smiled at Loce to take any sting out of her words.

  He nodded. ‘And I heard you got Drosni in your elite unit.’

  Her smile fell away. ‘Unfortunately.’

  Loce smiled sympathetically. ‘He’s an odd one. Incredibly skilled, but odd.’

  Siraay pressed her lips together, not convinced. But then she remembered her purpose here this morning and brought out her most charming smile. ‘I’m sure you’re right. He wouldn’t be in an elite unit unless he was good enough to be there.’

  Loce nodded, smiling back.

  She kept up the cheery facade. ‘So, where shall we start this morning?’

  ‘How about drills, then as many bouts as we can manage before the sun rises another span?’

  ‘Let’s do it.’

  They worked for a while together on technique first, Loce leading Siraay through a series of drills as a warm-up in the cold room, then correcting her when he thought she was slightly off. Usually, it was just small adjustments like the angle of her wrist, or just too much bend in the knees, that required her focus.

  Otherwise, he was quick to admit that she was adapting swiftly and already seemed to have improved in the few days she had been with them.

  Which made Siraay curious. ‘Why is that?’

  ‘Sorry?’ Loce frowned at her in polite confusion.

  ‘My fighting ability,’ she said, gesturing at herself, his eyes following the casual flick of her wave down past her bare abs. She had purposefully chosen to wear a short top that morning. ‘How is it that I can improve so drastically in such a short time?’

  Loce’s eyes moved up and away from her midsection to refocus on her face. ‘It’s simple. You’re not the same person you once were.’

  ‘But my body is the same. And my mind hasn’t been altered, only different parts accessed.’

  ‘Ah,’ Loce said, holding up a hand to make her pause. ‘But it has. This person you are now has different drives, different wants and needs. They have always been in you, only they were buried. A subset that wasn’t drawn upon, as it were.’ Loce gestured to her body. ‘Your fighting skills are similar. Your mind knew the patterns, knew what was required, but your former self wasn’t as adept as you are at physically acting on those patterns.’

  Siraay frowned as she thought through the logic. ‘So, I always had access to this level of skill, but I never used it?’

  Loce shook his head. ‘No. You had the ability but not the access. Slightly different.’

  ‘And now …?’

  ‘And now you have both the access, and the capacity, to use the knowledge you have. And fewer qualms about using it. So yes, as you become aware of your capability, your skill will improve accordingly.’

  Siraay nodded, both because she was absorbing the information and because she wanted Loce to feel like he was imparting important knowledge on her. Even though she had already guessed at most of what he had just told her.

  After more drills, they switched to sparring, and this time, the fights were more evenly matched, although Loce was still winning the majority of them.

  Just.

  After one particularly hard-fought match, she said to him, ‘I almost had you that time.’

  Loce chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. ‘Not even close.’

  ‘No?’ She turned to face him, putting a hand on one hip. ‘I think I can beat you in the next round.’

  He chuckled again. ‘And if you don’t?’

  Perfect. Just what she wanted. ‘Well, I guess we can work that one out afterwards.’ She kept her tone friendly and casual, throwing in another wave of her hand that drew his eyes down and over the planes of her stomach, her muscles glistening with sweat. ‘But if I win, I want some information.’ She smiled teasingly at him.

  He raised an eyebrow, smiling back. ‘And what information might that be?’

  She twisted her head away slightly, pretending to frown down at her pants a little as she flicked imaginary lint from one leg. ‘The prophecy.’

  Her downward glance gave Loce time to hide his surprise, but she could still sense it in the air.

  ‘I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.’

  She looked up in pretend surprise. ‘Really? I thought you would know, being such a favoured archon to Chezran and all.’

  ‘Favoured?’

  ‘Mmmmmm,’ she said, nodding, rolling her shoulders. ‘He listens to you. After all, you were the one who infiltrated the Resistance training camp. Who passed on the information about our unit. About me. Why wouldn’t he tell you everything?’

  A pause, which Siraay filled with a sensuous curling of her mouth and a slight bat of her lashes. Old tricks, really, but on a male like Loce, who must have spent most of his life being trained for one purpose, it was more than effective.

  ‘Of course,’ he agreed swiftly. ‘The prophecy. What do you want to know about it?’

  She almost groaned out loud in frustration but merely smiled again. ‘I’d never really heard of it until Chezran mentioned it. I didn’t want to look like I didn’t know what he was talking about, though, so I didn’t ask about the exact wording. But I thought maybe you could tell me.’ A half-truth. In her dream last night, which she didn’t think had been just a dream, Chezran had mentioned it.

  Just not to her.

  She could see Loce weighing up his choices, could almost read the thoughts going through his mind. If Chezran had mentioned it to her …

  ‘Well, I can’t remember the exact wording myself right now, but can I get back to
you later?’

  ‘That would be fine,’ she said, barely suppressing her excitement.

  ‘That’s if you win, of course,’ Loce amended, grinning.

  ***

  It was a difficult fight, and probably the longest of the morning, but by using every trick she knew, and making up a few more on the spot, Siraay managed to flip Loce over her shoulder and onto his back and then pin him to the floor with one knee.

  Not that he seemed that upset by her win, promising to get her a written note about the prophecy later that day after her patrol.

  They parted ways, and she returned to her rooms, ready to bathe and eat breakfast before going down to meet Drosni and the rest of her elite unit. Although she disliked Drosni, she wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to get out of the palace for a day.

  True to habit, Trelar had already filled Siraay’s bath and laid the table in preparation for the first meal of the day, so Siraay undressed and bathed quickly, ready to eat after such a vigorous training session.

  It was only when she had finished with her meal that she noticed the servant’s fidgeting.

  Siraay narrowed her eyes at the female, observing her for a moment longer before speaking. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  Trelar seemed to freeze for an instant, before folding her hands. ‘Well, my lady, while you were down training this morning, a message came for you.’

  Interested, Siraay sat straighter in her chair. ‘And?’

  ‘And it was from Lord Chezran, lady. He said that the chief archon would be accompanying you out on patrol today.’

  Siraay felt her face go numb. She couldn’t have heard correctly. ‘He said what?’

  Trelar began fidgeting again. ‘The chief archon, my lady. He’s been ordered to join the patrol.’

  Siraay stood up abruptly. ‘I think I’ll go and have a word with His Lordship.’ She ground out the last word. Had her dream last night then been just that—a dream? She had felt so sure it was something more.

  But if it had been real, why then would Chezran send her and Pyron out together? It didn’t make sense.

  ‘The message also said that Lord Chezran would be unavailable for the rest of the day. Urgent matters, apparently,’ Trelar said hurriedly in an apologetic voice.

  Siraay paused midway to the door. Then she sighed and kept moving. It was going to be an interesting day.

  ***

  Siraay walked down the steps of the main staircase, but instead of turning right or left, she continued along the main hall, passing through the large entranceway where Chezran had first showed her paintings of the Xarconians battling the other cities.

  Here she patiently waited until she heard the sound of soft boots coming determinedly towards her. Lifting her chin, she turned casually to see that Pyron was approaching wearing gear similar to hers—a dark-grey top over which he wore a jacket with long, tight sleeves, along with long pants that allowed room to move, and boots that circled up and over the bottom of his pants, so that nothing could be snagged on plant, tree, or rock.

  She eyed him with dislike while trying to assess if he still hurt from the injury she had given him, and he returned a similar look.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked, his tone conveying that he doubted she could ever be such.

  ‘Of course.’ Siraay knew that her outright confidence would annoy Pyron, so she purposefully injected it into her voice. He didn’t seem to be hurting now, so maybe he had healed himself in another form, like she had.

  Apart from his new level of restraint, there was no other evidence of the dream she had had the night before of Chezran raging at him.

  If only Chezran had hit him, clawed him … anything to leave a mark that would have told her in the light of day if what she had dreamt was real or not.

  But there was nothing, and Pyron just pivoted and began walking down the hall.

  Irritated, Siraay followed, knowing that the sooner they got out into the wild, the sooner she could ignore him again. As she followed after the chief archon, she lamented the fact that the uniforms did not cut low enough around the collar so that she could see the effects of what she had done to him with her claws yesterday.

  Although he may have healed by now anyway, she realised.

  Still. The memory of her claws sinking into him yesterday continued to please her, and she smiled as Pyron turned off the hallway into a much larger room.

  As soon as she entered, Siraay could tell the room was different. She had first thought that Pyron might be taking her out of the palace the way Chezran had first led her in—through the tunnel that led to the arena and to the yard where the soldiers in training were housed.

  Instead, she could see that this could only be a preparation room.

  It had a selection of weapons similar to those in the large training hall where Siraay had fought Loce that morning, but here there were many full racks of weapons, extra jackets and pants like those she wore, and many other outfits of varied colours and styles.

  There was also a large map on one wall that intrigued her, and Siraay moved up for a closer look while Pyron ignored her and went to talk to another soldier. The map was projected out from a unit embedded in the wall itself, but this projection didn’t show the whole of Kaslon; rather, it depicted the territory ranging from the outskirts of Xarcon to the mountains she and the others had been forced to cross on their march to the city.

  ‘Lady.’

  Siraay twisted to see who was addressing her, and she had to hide her grimace when she saw Drosni smiling at her.

  ‘We are ready to escort you on patrol,’ he continued. Behind him were arranged the other two males and the female who had fought Siraay the previous day.

  Her ire rose at his words. She didn’t need an escort. But she forced her annoyance down and kept her face blank. ‘Good. I imagine we’ll be leaving soon.’

  As if her words were the trigger, another voice from the middle of the room called out, ‘Gather around all.’

  Drosni pivoted where he stood and moved a little closer towards the voice, but Siraay remained where she was. Across the heads of the gathering soldiers, she spied Pyron leaning back against the wall on the other side of the room.

  He was staring back at her, dislike and annoyance written on his face.

  She looked away from him and focused on the soldier who had begun to brief everyone.

  ‘ … different today. We have had intelligence that there may be Resistance units scouting through the area. Given how close we are to launching our attack on the capital, we need to be sure that the area around the city remains clear of Resistance spies. Hence, today you will be patrolling the mountains, your objective to find and eliminate any potential agents you come across. Resistance spies usually operate in pairs; thus, our numbers should be more than suitable for our purpose today.’

  Siraay’s ears picked up at that. A real chance to hunt the Resistance? Suddenly she didn’t care so much about Drosni or Pyron.

  ‘We’ll be splitting into two units to cover the area needed—two groups of five,’ the soldier continued.

  Siraay was trying to assess his rank, given that he was hosting the briefing, when the male oriented himself towards her and bowed. ‘The lady and her unit will form one group, and the chief archon, myself, and the rest of you will form the other.’

  Siraay saw Pyron shift slightly against the wall. ‘Sergeant, I’m supposed to stick with the lady.’ His voice conveyed an undertone that told Siraay he would rather be anywhere else. But his words brought back last night’s dream …

  The sergeant shook his head. ‘Sorry, chief—I have my orders too, from Archon Renhed. Unless she says otherwise, I stick to the orders she gives me.’

  Siraay felt her eyebrows rise and fought to keep an amused smile off her face. She liked this sergeant. And she would also have to thank Renhed later.

  The sergeant explained how the two units would approach the hills and then link up later in the day.

  ‘Both units have
a member who can take the form of a kitespray, so if you need to communicate outside of the city, use them to run messages to the other group, but be careful—if the Resistance groups spot a flyer too many times, they will know we are out there.’

  Drosni and the others were nodding.

  The sergeant looked at all of them. ‘Good hunting, then.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  PERCHED IN A little dip in the side of the hill, with sufficient coverage around her, Siraay took note of her team members’ positions.

  Drosni was off to her right, and the other three were spaced around to her left in a wide arc. They had been scouting out the area for half a day now and hadn’t found any sign of a Resistance unit. But she wasn’t complaining. She was finally getting to explore the mountains she had been observing from her balcony for the last couple of days, and even better, she didn’t have Pyron looking over her shoulder.

  Though Drosni was still smiling.

  Even now, as the male signalled to her that the way forwards was all clear, he had that annoying grin on his face.

  She really couldn’t tell if he just enjoyed his job that much or if this was the constant state his face was stuck in.

  Thankfully, he turned away as he rose and led them all forwards again, moving slowly and sticking to cover as much as possible. And there was a fair amount of it, which had surprised Siraay, given how bare and rocky the mountains had looked from the palace.

  But up close, there were tall trees, rocky outcroppings, thick, low scrub, and jutting cliffs that joined flat plateaus.

  Plenty of places for spies to hide.

  They kept moving, always heading in an elongated weaving pattern towards the point where they would link up with Pyron’s unit.

  She wasn’t looking forward to that.

  The sun had moved a number of handspans towards the horizon when they finally reached the meeting place. While Siraay and Drosni moved towards where the sergeant and Pyron were huddled by a rock, the other three members of Siraay’s elite unit joined the other soldiers on perimeter watch.