by J. D. Monroe
His right-hand and shop manager, Molly, was a capable woman and half-Kadirai herself. When he got off the phone with Sohan and said he had to go deal with “old family business,” she didn’t question it. She’d texted to check on him and to assure him that the shop was fine. He smiled, picturing her settling into his office while he was gone. He’d probably come back to find the shop renamed and his office redecorated with Molly’s collection of psychedelic cat paintings. He composed a quick text reply.
I knew I could count on you. It’ll be a few more days.
He also had a message from a local Kadirai friend, Max, asking why he wasn’t at the gym that morning. He chuckled and replied.
Family business. I’ll be back soon.
Max was a second generation Exile and knew very little Kadirai history. Considering what was going on, his detachment was probably a blessing. Perhaps ignorance would not only be bliss, but a guarantee of safety.
With fresh clothes and a slightly clearer head, Velati headed for the training center. Like a college campus, the dozen buildings that made up Skyward Rest were connected by meandering cobblestone paths. They met in a large plaza surrounding a statue of the Skymother, wings stretched to the sky. Out of habit, he raised one hand to trace the smooth curve of her wing, a gesture he’d made every time he walked past when he still lived here. A hand fisted into his shirt and hauled him backward, away from the statue.
“Fuck,” he muttered, twisting violently to grab the arm as he summoned a long spear of ice in the other hand. Small attacker, judging by the angle they’d pulled from. His hand gripped a solid, wiry forearm, but he saw only a shimmering, pulsing mirage around a vaguely human shape. He smelled Kadirai blood and a hint of cinnamon. His heart pounded against his ribs. “Show yourself.”
A peal of laughter erupted from the invisible figure, and the mirage faded to reveal a familiar face. Standing a foot shorter than him, with gleaming blue eyes and raven-black hair was Dyadra Macias, once known as the legendary Kaldirah Bladewhisper. She grinned at him, teeth flashing in a predatory grin. “You’re getting slow.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t stab you,” he replied, releasing the solid ice into fluttering particles of snow.
She batted his hand away playfully and stepped in to hug him. Her familiar scent tickled at his nose, stronger now that it wasn’t dampened by her stealth barrier. He hadn’t seen her in a few months, though their activities lately were limited to chatting over coffee, not raining destruction onto their mutual enemies. “It’s so good to see you, serani.”
“You too,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Is it just you? Or is the whole family here?”
“Whole family,” she said. “Did Sohan tell you what happened?”
“He said someone attacked Allana and Will,” he said. “Not much on the details.”
Her eyes flared bright. “That was a mistake. I rectified it. In related news, I’ve got my dragon back.”
He gaped at her. The injuries she’d sustained in her fall had been near-fatal. While she’d fared better than Sohan and had recovered her ability to control wind while in her diminished human form, Dyadra hadn’t transformed in decades. She’d long accepted that she never would. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” she said. “It was ugly and painful, but they had my little girl. That was a hell of a motivator. I need someone to pull me back, but I can do it.”
“That’s great news,” he said. It also boded ill for whoever had been stupid enough to mess with her family. He raised an eyebrow. “Wait. Were you standing out here like a fucking weirdo so you could tackle me on the off chance that I walked by sometime today?”
“Maybe,” she said. “I like seeing you back here.”
He sighed. “At least someone does.”
As he told her the tale of going to Valella to offer his assistance, they walked to the training center, a round stone structure at the northwest corner of the compound. The outer doors had been updated with more modern locks, and the wards of protection had been enhanced, but otherwise, it was the same place he remembered. Like the stone doors of the throne room, they’d built a near-replica of the impressive training grounds of Adamantine Rise.
In an open field behind the building, half a dozen Kadirai were rapidly changing. Transforming made Kadirai vulnerable, so a key part of any warrior’s training was learning to change as quickly as possible. Amidst the grunts of effort, a female voice bellowed, “Faster! I could have slit your throat in the time it took you to shift!” Kadirai energy was palpable in the air, hanging thick and heavy like smoke.
Along the right side of the building, spiraling stairs descended to the subterranean level. At the foot of the stairs, a steel door was set into the stone wall, with a hulking guard in crimson leather armor blocking the way.
“We’re here to see Shadowbane,” Dyadra said. “Macias and Rimewing.” She used her assumed name, even though she was here as one of the Arik’tazhan. That was interesting. He was curious if she would ever acknowledge her past.
The guard’s eyes widened, and he hurried to unlock the door for them. “Be well, kordari,” he said in a deep voice.
As soon as the door opened, they were buffeted by the smoky smell of Kadirai power. Most of the subterranean level was one open room with stone walls and rubber floors. Varastrin warding in the walls absorbed the powerful magic so that trainees didn’t destroy the building with a misplaced blast of fire.
A ball of fire hurtled across the room and dissolved harmlessly into a glowing silver rune on the wall. A dozen trainees worked in the large open area, all of them in human form. They were in pairs, practicing with their elemental power. Others were dispersed around the inner circle, clasping arms and staring intently at each other. Winding his way through them like a human obstacle course was Sohan Shadowbane. He looked up at their approach and smiled. “Hi, beautiful.”
“Hello yourself, handsome,” Velati said with a smirk.
With a snort of derision, Sohan bypassed him to kiss Dyadra’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”
For a moment, Velati was jealous of the tiny exchange. The affection was a holdover from days long past, when they’d been much more than friends. He’d never begrudged them the relationship. He’d had his own flings to warm his bed and entangle his heart. But he hated being left out of a fight, especially when Dyadra’s family was at stake.
“As good as I have in decades,” she said. She surveyed the room. “What are we doing today?”
“Trying to get these kids ready to deal with the Chosen,” Sohan said quietly. “Right now, I’m pairing them up, working to get them to bond.”
An eerie quiet fell over the room. A dozen sets of eyes fell upon them, staring in wonder. Though they were both newly arrived after decades away, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to put together who Sohan Shadowbane’s two companions were. “This is awkward,” Velati said.
“Quit gawking,” Sohan barked. “Get back to work. Dyadra, go help with the element work. Velati, you’re with me and the pairs.”
“Got it,” Dyadra said. Without hesitating, she stalked to the nearest wall where a broad-shouldered male was gathering crackling orbs of lightning between his palms. He looked down in horror as Dyadra spoke in a quiet, menacing voice. “Your life will depend on this. Dig down deep and find a pair of balls or I’ll find them for you.”
Sohan chuckled. “She’ll make someone cry before the day’s out.”
“I would be disappointed by anything less,” Velati replied. The first pair he approached was comprised of a full-blooded Kadirai male and a hybrid female partner. The male stood a few inches taller than him, but his expression was one of deference. “Do you know who I am?”
“Yes, sir,” the young man said quietly.
“What’s your name?”
“Azad,” he said. He bent at the waist in a courteous bow. His longish black hair was secured in a messy style that Molly mocked as a ‘man bun.’ If some of his old comrades had seen it, the
y’d have held him down and lopped it off.
“Ridia,” the woman said, holding out her hand eagerly. Her yellow-gold eyes widened as if she thought she’d made a gaffe, but Velati grasped it and shook it politely. Her skin was cool to the touch, and he recognized the familiar flow of ice in her aura. She was like him.
“I’m here to help you survive,” Velati said, speaking to all four of the pairs. “Especially for those of you that are full dragon, trusting someone else to protect you is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. But it’s the only way you’ll survive against their weapons.” He grasped Azad’s arm, then turned to Ridia. “Can I have your hand?”
She extended it, and Velati placed it onto the young man’s arm. “It’s going to feel weird at first. It’s too intimate. It’s not about sex, although when you finally connect, it feels good. Sometimes really good.” There were a few nervous laughs. “Not trying to make it weird. I just don’t want you to think you’re a freak because you get a little tingle that feels familiar.” He leveled his gaze at Ridia. “Compel him.” He turned to Azad. “And you compel her. Make it simple. Make her let go of your arm.”
Both of them furrowed their brows, then broke into nervous laughter as soon as their eyes met. Velati shook his head. “This is serious. Try.” Ridia’s fingers clamped down on Azad’s arm, and he reached to touch her shoulder. A faint hum tickled at his eardrums as their power clashed.
“Quit…resisting,” Ridia said through gritted teeth. She released her grasp and threw up her hands in frustration. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I’m not trying to!” Azad protested. Her hand had left a blistered pink imprint on his forearm. Avoiding Ridia’s gaze, he rubbed at his arm. “Sir, I really am trying.”
“Hold on,” Velati said. He surveyed the other trainees, then beckoned to a male hybrid that was working with a female dragon. “You, try the same thing.”
There was no real pattern or reason to the ideal pairing, though Sohan swore Velati could always find the perfect match. Velati suspected he said so because Sohan and Dyadra were living legends and felt guilty that his name was spoken matter-of-factly rather than with a reverence usually reserved for deities. In any case, he’d been rather scientific at first, keeping up with the different combinations of elemental affinities, ages, genders, anything he could think of. After years of working at it, there didn’t seem to be a magic equation. It all came down to trust. If two people could trust each other, they could work together, regardless of the other factors.
He had also learned that the burden was more on the full-blooded dragon. They weren’t accustomed to trusting others, and it required confidence in their own strength as well as a certain abandon, a willingness to trust their partner fully. A cocky dragon who couldn’t accept his own vulnerability was most at risk.
The new pair clasped arms. Without speaking, both men locked eyes. The faint hum of power intensified. Azad’s pupils dilated, and a faint shimmer enveloped his hand for a split second. He inhaled sharply. “This is weird,” he murmured, shifting on the balls of his feet.
“It’s good,” Velati said. “Keep it up.”
He spent the next half hour circulating through the trainees. Ridia’s brow furrowed as he reassigned her for the third time, since none of her partners could connect to her. She sighed and said, “What’s wrong with me?”
He chuckled and patted her shoulder. “Show me what you’re doing.” She hesitated, one hand hovering just above his forearm. “It’s fine. You won’t hurt me.”
“Okay,” she said, grasping his arm. A wave of icy power swept over him, prickling along his skin, and numbing his arm from shoulder to fingertips. “Let go of me.”
He gasped in shock, then laughed. “Now I see. You’re channeling the ice, not the psychic connection.”
“Am I?”
Without releasing her arm, he pushed his hand flat against her breastbone. “It doesn’t come from here,” he said. Her yellow-gold eyes followed his hand as he touched her forehead. “Pull the energy from higher up.”
She stared intently down at her hand. Cold surged into his arm, but there was a warm push of her mind with it, tentative but present.
“Much better,” he said. “Let’s focus on that, shall we?”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He frowned. “Don’t be sorry. This is new and unfamiliar. I wouldn’t have anything to do if you had it all perfect right away.”
Her lips pulled into a shy smile. “Thank you.”
“It also helps if you quit worrying about getting it correct and more about your intentions. You intend to protect me, right?” She nodded. “Focus more on shielding than on the compulsion. Think about wrapping me up with your mind.”
As he coached Ridia into redirecting her power, leaving him with a numb arm and a dull headache, he found himself thinking it’s not enough.
The psychic connection between partners was critical. But until they heard the Elegy for the first time or found themselves on the receiving end of an overwhelming power like Marlena’s, this was all theoretical. Even he and Sohan had to learn in the field. In the early days, they’d both taken a few nasty falls at the sound of an Elegy, barely recovering in time to keep from shattering themselves on the hard earth. With the Chosen developing new, unpredictable weapons, he was afraid of what their learning curve might be like.
Someone tapped his shoulder, interrupting him from his work with Ridia. He turned to see one of the gray-clad guards from the dungeon. The woman bowed and said, “Excuse me, kordari, but I have a message for you. The prisoner wants to speak to you.”
His heart thumped. “The girl? What does she want?”
“She said she wants to continue your discussion from earlier,” she said with a shrug. “That’s all she said.”
Hope soared into his chest. Maybe he would get somewhere after all. “Let her sweat it out for a little while. I’ll be there in a few hours.”
With her offer hanging in the air, time froze. How long had it been since she’d told the guard she wanted to see Velati? She’d been awake for hours, staring at those damned files. It could have all been made up. But if it was even remotely possible that the subjects were innocent, what did that mean about her obligations to the Chosen?
She stared down at young Taran’s file, though she’d read it so many times that she had it memorized. A local news article praised Taran and his teammates for their big win at a state math competition. In the photo of the team and their gigantic trophy, Taran stood a few inches taller than his teammates and had the sharp facial features of a Kadirai bloodline, but there was nothing about him that exuded guilt. At worst, he needed a haircut.
Maybe Taran slipped through, accidentally identified as one of the bad dragons. Could she live with one high school boy suffering unfairly? Two? How much error could she accept before she said no more?
A mechanical click and a series of beeps preceded the opening of the cell door. She slammed the file shut just as Velati stepped into the room. He’d changed clothes, replacing the shirt she’d burned a hole through. His expression was stony and neutral. He brandished a long, curved blade of ice ahead of him. “Let me see your hands.”
She held them up, displaying the manacles right where he’d left them. “I’m not trying anything.”
He deftly flipped the blade toward his arm, and it disintegrated into a shower of fine snowflakes. Neat trick. He carried a messenger bag over one shoulder and a wooden stool. “How’s the hand?”
She showed him her left hand, wrapped in clean white gauze. “Fine. Someone came by and cleaned it up for me. Your doing?”
He simply raised an eyebrow. “You wanted to see me?”
She had, and more than she realized. He’d nearly killed her, but she felt curiously connected to him. It was an extremely low bar, but he’d been decent to her. And even though she suspected he was a master manipulator, his words resonated in her. “I do,” she said. “I want to help you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That was a quick change of heart.”
“You made it pretty clear that time was a factor. I thought I should make the choice before you let your allies torture me to death.” His eye twitched slightly. She wasn’t sure how to play the situation. If she was teary-eyed and repentant, he might not believe her. Too cold and detached, and he’d know she was playing him. She let out a heavy sigh. Keep it as close to the truth as possible. “What you’ve shown me makes me wonder. I’m not saying I want to join you. But if this is really happening, I want to stop it.”
“And by ‘stop it,’ you mean stop imprisoning high school mathletes and draining their blood?”
The accusation cut into her like a knife. “Yes, that. So how does this work?”
He sat on the stool, stretching his long legs. “You and I talk. I decide if what you give me is useful enough for me to go to bat for you,” he said. “Big picture. How many more facilities are there, like the one you were at?”
She furrowed her brow. He’d gone straight for the throat, but her plan hadn’t extended far beyond telling him she would help him. Was it worth sacrificing one of the labs for her to escape? “There’s one in North Carolina,” she said. “North of Asheville.”
“We shut that down a month ago,” he said. He raised an eyebrow. “And I think you already knew that. We also know about the one in New Mexico. What else is there?”
Her eyes widened. “I think that’s all of them.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Sinuous muscle shifted along his forearms. “Are you sure?” His posture was casual, but there was no mistaking the power that radiated from him in a glacial aura. His gaze was a silent threat.
“I’m not sure, but that’s all the ones I know of,” she said, trying to conceal the uncontrollable shiver wracking her body. “I spent most of my time in training.”
“Training for what?”
She held out her arms to display her tattoos. “Both to get ready for this and then how to use it.”
“And what exactly does that do for you?”