Princess of Lies and Legends (The Evolved Book 2)

by Veronica Sommers

  "What are the rituals for it?"

  "No rituals. The couple discusses it, and then they fill out forms and have them signed by a public records attendant. It doesn't take long to process. Sometimes there's a party afterwards, or a special trip."

  "For the Maraj, there are a series of exchanges between the families—gifts and gatherings. The blood-bond is the foundation of our culture, so both families have to be in favor of it." Rak speaks softly, reverently, as if these customs are precious to him. "And then there are good deeds for the couple to perform together, before their bonding day, to ensure the mark of the Light upon their joining."

  I slide my hand over his, where it rests on his knee. "You wanted to do these things with someone, someday."

  "I did. I—I do." He looks up at me, intensity shining in his dark eyes. "What if we were joined, officially? By your laws, and mine?"

  What?

  What?

  "You want me for your consort?" I whisper.

  "My blood-bond match. Yes."

  "Why?"

  "Why?" He laughs. "Because you are fierce and sweet, and smart and sharp-tongued and strong, and I love you. You are everything I want."

  I inhale a long breath and release it. "Would this mean that I can be with you anytime? We can live together, sleep together, without a shadow of guilt in your pure little heart?"

  "I'm not sure it's so pure anymore, thanks to you—but yes."

  "And we could go together to North Dixan. And you would never be with anyone else, only me, forever and ever till one of us dies?"

  "Yes."

  I want to say yes and ask why the stars we haven't already done this; but I also want to scream at him that this is a very crazy and very unwise plan. "Rak, you know this would be hard, right? We haven't known each other long, and we're from very different worlds and families."

  "Isn't love always hard?"

  "I suppose, but our differences will make it harder."

  "When have you ever balked at something because it was difficult?" He grins. "You like a challenge, yes?"

  An answering grin spreads over my face, but I'm not ready to yield yet. "Do you promise to teach me about your culture? I want to help you celebrate your festivals, your rituals—whatever keeps you true to yourself."

  "If you promise to tell me when I'm calling something black or white, when it should be gray."

  "That, I can do." Swiftly I move off the chair and onto his lap. Laying my hand against his cheek, I warm his skin just a little. His breathing changes, and he pulls me closer.

  A harsh buzzing sound startles me. "What in Death's dark is that?" I gasp.

  "It's the door. Safi or Alik."

  "Bad timing," I grumble, sliding off his lap so he can rise and enter the code to unlock the ground-level access to the building.

  A knock sounds at the apartment door a few minutes later. The instant I open it, Safi bangs it against the wall and strides into the room, her green eyes snapping.

  "One line?" she says. "One line, to let us know you made it out? That's all the time you could spare last night? You know we were all invested in this. The least you could have done was given me a wave."

  "We were exhausted," I say, backing away from her. "And—busy."

  "You. Were. Busy." She drops each word like a bomb. "I barely slept last night, worrying about you two worthless jacanal dumps."

  "Aw," I say, smirking at her. "You do care about us."

  "I don't care. I wanted to be sure you hadn't blown the whole operation and put my residence status in jeopardy."

  "Of course." I'm still smiling at her.

  "They're fine, Sky-born," says Alik, coming up behind her and running his hands down her arms. "Relax."

  She jerks away. "Don't touch me, thief."

  "Not a thief anymore."

  "Don't touch me, criminal."

  "Criminal? Has a nice ring to it, but I prefer 'manufacturer of questionably legal tech.' "

  Safi spins to face him, and for a second I think she might smack his gleefully grinning face. But she unclenches her fists and turns back to me. "What did you get?"

  We spend the next two hours sifting through the items, taking images of some and cataloguing the technical specifications of others as Safi examines them. Finally she sets up her equipment and plugs in the data sticks, one after another, saving the files to in triplicate to new drives. "I'm not going to risk losing this stuff, after you went through all that to get it," she says.

  Once most of the data has been copied, we set up holo-screens for each of us so we can comb through the files faster. We have technical readouts, test samples, and specification charts. It's better than I hoped for.

  "We have definitive proof here," I say. "But the regular people of Ceanna aren't going to read through tech files and try to understand them. We need something that's quick and easy to grasp. Like a summary report, or a project brief—"

  "Or a database of all the Evolved in Ceanna?" says Alik. He points to his holoscreen. "Look."

  The file he just opened contains a vast list, organized by region, then city or town, then by last name in alphabetical order. He taps a name at random and reads aloud. "Nira Wrenn, age 12, growth acceleration. Rank 7. Suppressor installed age 5." Another, "Brik Amexil, age 17, light manipulation, Rank 2, Suppressor not installed."

  "Stars and skies above," I breathe. "Look for me and my friends from Uni."

  Alik swishes through the categories. "Here. Vissa Hayes, age 19. Ability: far sight. Rank 4. Suppressor not installed."

  "It seems they only install suppressors for Evolved above Rank 5, or those with more dangerous gifts," Rak says.

  "Here you are, Princess," says Alik. "Nice! Ability—molecular manipulation and heat generation. Rank 9. You're a powerhouse."

  I lean forward. "Suppressor installed at age 5. That's when I got my first skull-port. And like every other Ceannan kid, I didn't ask questions; I just went through the upgrade process as I grew. I let them keep scheduling it and signing off on it for me, even after I went to Uni. How could I have been so stupid?"

  "Do the parents even have a choice?" Rak ask. "The testing and suppression could be a government mandate."

  "One which my father probably spearheaded and put into effect," I say. "So maybe the government is doing this without the parents' knowledge. Maybe they're not given the option to refuse."

  "Looks like none of these entries go back further than twenty years," Alik says.

  My brain is racing. "If the parents aren't being told about the suppressors either, the government could simply keep doing this indefinitely, without anyone knowing except those directly involved in the process."

  "You're making my poor tired head ache," groans Safi. "What's the point of trying to figure out how they do it? All we need to do is release the data somewhere public, where people can access it."

  "I have an idea about that," I say. "I'll make a list of the top public feedlines that allow free posts with attached info packets. Once I send you the list, just hold onto it until I give the word."

  She salutes me. "Yes, Commander."

  "Meanwhile, we need to sort out this information and figure out what to release and what to hold back."

  "Don't release the database," says Rak. "Some of the high-ranking Evolved might become targets."

  "True. Alik, I'm giving you all the data and evidence that we don't release. I trust you'll know where to keep it so that it stays safe without incriminating you. If things go sideways, there will be an investigation, and anyone linked to me is going to be under suspicion. All of you have to make sure your uplink traces and your rooms are clean. Nothing to find, nothing to prove."

  "How do you know I won't use this delightful data to my own personal advantage?" Alik's eyes shine ice-blue, challenging me. "You're presuming my goodness and uprightness. A bit of a stretch, don't you think?"

  "Not so much as you want me to believe." I don't break the eye contact. "Do you plan to blackmail people with the i
nformation?"

  "Not unless I'm in a very, very tight spot."

  "Good enough for me."

  A loud buzz startles me. We all freeze, darting glances at each other, and Rak's hand flies to the spot where his gun used to be.

  "You don't have a vid view of the security door downstairs, do you?" I whisper to him.

  "In this old building?" Alik scoffs, and Rak shakes his head. "No. But there's a com there, next to the keypad. You can ask who it is."

  I step to com and press the button. "Who is it?"

  "Your loyal bodyguards." Ridley's voice fizzes through the com speaker.

  "Oh," I gasp, turning around to face the others. "Oh, no, we can't let them see all this. I'll have to go with them."

  "Go," says Rak. "I don't have work today. We'll all stay here and assemble the data we need."

  "We will?" says Alik. "I think I have more interesting and exciting things to do."

  "I'll pay you," I say.

  "With what, love? You've used up all your capital on last night's venture."

  "With—something. I'll figure it out. Please, Alik?"

  He glances at Safi, and she jerks her head once. "All right, Princess, I'm in. You can count on us to assemble the perfect little digital data bombs for your big disclosure."

  "Thank you." I lock eyes with Rak. "I love you."

  "Love you too," Alik interjects, grinning.

  Rak shakes his head, his mouth curving in that twisted half-smile of his. "Come by tonight," he says to me. "If you can get away."

  "I will."

  23

  I race downstairs, to the security door where Tram stands stolidly while Ridley paces.

  "You weren't at home when we arrived this morning," she says. "We were concerned."

  "Did my parents notice?"

  "I covered for you. But Miss Zilara, your father will definitely notice if you continue to leave house at night without supervision."

  "I'm not a child," I say. "At Uni I went wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted."

  "That was before the kidnapping," Ridley says.

  "So I'm to be under permanent double guard all day and under house arrest at night? How is that fair?"

  "I'm not the one with whom you should discuss it," Ridley replies. "When your father returns, you may broach the subject with him. Until then, as your bodyguard and head of security, I must insist that you do not leave your home at night without a guard to accompany you."

  "I dismissed my night guards," I say.

  "I'm well aware. And I'd also guess that your father would never have agreed to it if he knew your sole purpose in dismissing them was to leave the house unguarded in the middle of the night. If you need an escort for a nighttime excursion, I'm sure one of your father's guards could go with you. Or your male friend could come to you."

  "My father told me not to bring my Emsali friends to the house."

  "Oh." Ridley frowns. "But why—never mind, Miss Zilara, it's not my business. I've overstepped enough already."

  "No, it's fine." I sigh, relenting. "You're just trying to do your job. And I'm trying to have a life."

  That evening, when my guards' shifts are over, Tram leaves without a word, but Ridley hesitates. "You're going out again tonight, aren't you?"

  There's no point in lying to her. "Yes."

  "Then I'm coming with you."

  "Ridley, this is the end of your shift, the beginning of your personal time. Besides, I want to be alone with him."

  "At least allow me to escort you there." Anxiety edges her tone.

  "As long as you promise to leave once I'm safely inside."

  When I'm at the door of Rak's building, I wave to her, and she skims away in her personal pod. As I ride the elevator up to Rak's rooms, tiny thrills chase each other through my stomach. I'm going to be alone with him again. Alone. Kissing him, touching him—trying new, exciting things with him.

  He opens the door at my knock, his mouth stretching in that charming scarred smile. "Come see what we did."

  He pulls out the holo-screen and shows me the data packets they made—images, documents, statistics, all neatly ordered and easily accessible, ready to be sent out.

  "They're perfect. You must have worked on them for hours."

  "We did. We also figured out how this entire scheme works. Are you ready? It's complicated." His eyes are bright, intense. He's as invested in this project as I am, and it thrills me.

  "I'm ready." I settle myself in a chair to listen.

  "All right then. At age five, Ceannan children are eligible for their first skull-port model. That's when their DNA is taken for governmental records. At the same time, the DNA analyst determines if the child is Evolved or not, and what rank he or she is."

  "And then they tell the parents?"

  "They inform them that their child is Evolved, but they don't reveal the rank," Rak says. "If the child is over Rank 4, a suppressor is installed along with the implant, without the parents' knowledge or consent."

  "And the parents think their child has just a modicum of power, a little bit of something special. They don't know what the kid is really capable of."

  "Yes." Rak taps the holo-screen, bringing up a chart. "Of course the implant has to be replaced every year because of the growth rate—here, see? And whenever a re-order for a new implant comes in, the Evolved person's file is flagged as a Rank 5 or higher, and their new unit is automatically fitted with a suppressor chip."

  "Clever." I lean forward to examine the growth chart.

  "Of course some people know about it—like the analysts and the ones who handle the chips," Rak continues. "Anyone who knows must sign a non-disclosure agreement with very severe penalties—there's a copy of it in the data packet we prepared. But most of Ceanna's people have no idea this is happening."

  "What about the poorer families, the ones who can't afford skull-ports?" I frown. "There should be some unsuppressed Evolved kids walking around."

  "Children of every income level get the free medical exam at age 5, and the DNA scan. And Safi found out there's a lottery program that supposedly gifts skull-ports to underprivileged children."

  "Let me guess—it's not actually a lottery."

  Rak shakes his head. "No. They 'gift' the skull-ports to poor families with Evolved children over Rank 4."

  "I can't believe it. So the Council decided this and put it into effect, a couple decades ago. And my father knew. He knew!" I slam my hand onto the table.

  "Easy," says Rak. "The power isn't in his hands anymore, Zilara. Now that we have this information, we can give the decision back to the people. Back to the Evolved."

  He throws himself back in the chair, tilting it on two legs and locking his fingers behind his head. "Most of that information was my discovery, you know. Except the bit Safi found. I think I deserve a prize."

  "You really do." I sit across his lap, trailing my fingers down his chest.

  "But first, we need to talk."

  I sigh. "Can't the talking wait?"

  "No."

  "Well then, what is it?"

  "After we—or you—show the country what's really happening, there are going to be consequences. Serious ones."

  "I know."

  "Your father may do something in retaliation."

  "That's why North Dixan is looking better and better."

  "So you're serious? About you and I leaving Ceanna afterward?" He clears his throat. "About the consort pledge?"

  "Very serious. Aren't you?"

  "I am. And I understand that this is going to be different from what I hoped to share with the woman who became my match. I've accepted that. But I need to maintain some of my tribe's customs. Like the exchange of gifts between families."

  "Your very presence here is a gift to me, to my friend-family, and to my country. So all I need to do is send your family a gift, and then the exchange will be complete."

  He frowns. "My family won't accept any gift from you or your family."

  "They
might. Let's ask them."

  "What?" His eyes widen.

  "You want to check on your mother and sister, yes? To see if they're safe?"

  "I—I've thought about it."

  "So let's wave your house. Surely you know the code."

  His hands clasp the arms of the chair, bone-white at the knuckles with the force of his grip. "They won't speak to me."

  "Don't you want to try, just once? Maybe they'll surprise you."

  "I don't know."

  I lay my com device on the table in front of him. "I think you should."

  Long minutes pass. And then he picks up the device and enters the code.

  "Do you want me to leave?" I ask.

  "No, please stay. But—out of sight." Raw pain throbs in his voice. He needs my support, but he can't risk angering his other loved ones. I scoot aside, out of range of the com's view-finder.

  "It'll be my mother," he says hoarsely, staring at the reception indicator light. "She'll answer the wave. Asha is with the rebels."

  But when the light blinks blue and the call connects, it's his sister who appears, three-dimensional and distinct, projected above the com device.

  When she registers her brother's face, her eyes widen. "Rakhi." She glances around the room, then leans closer. "Where are you?"

  "Asha, dear sister, are you all right?"

  "Yes."

  "Why are you not with the Fray?"

  "I've been in training, but I'm home for two days. A break before they put the new recruits into the field. And you? Where are you?"

  "Why do you keep asking for my location? Want to send someone to assassinate the shameful outcast?" The bitterness and betrayal in Rak's voice startles me.

  Asha rattles off a string of biting words in the Maraj dialect, then says in Global, "I want to know that you're safe, idiot."

  "I'm no longer part of your family or your tribe. Why should you care?"

  "Rak." She shakes her head. "What happened to you? How did this happen?"

  He launches into a flood of Maraj words, motioning vigorously with his hands, intensity driving every syllable. She listens mutely, and when he finally stops speaking she says, "The girl, the Magnate's daughter—is she with you now?"

  He hesitates, then nods.

  "Why does she hide?"