by Chele Cooke
For the first time, Georgianna relished the feeling of being rooted in place. A shudder ran down her spine and into the tips of her fingers. She wanted to run but the floor held her steady. He came closer, waiting, watching for her mistake. Straightening up, she gulped.
“Olless is right,” she said. “She told Edtroka about the message and he made his choice. We shouldn’t take that choice from him.”
Dhiren’s face twisted in a spasm of loathing. Georgianna had never had a problem with him before. He’d always been cheerful and kind with her. Even when she had seen his skill in fighting, she had never been afraid of him. Until now. As he glared, she was sure that he hated her more than he hated any of the others. More than Olless and her infuriating rules, more than Vajra and Ta-Dao and their petty cruelty. More than the Adveni who had handed him over to that life.
She was the one who was supposed to fight for Edtroka. She was supposed to make sure they found him and brought him back. She’d been his. He’d protected her as Dhiren had said. Edtroka had gone against his family because he didn’t agree with the Adveni, but he’d been caught because of her.
He raised his hand. Buckling against the pressure, Georgianna shielded her face. A twitch ran down his arm and he bared his teeth before turning away. He brought down his hand in a heavy blow, knocking over a chair as he stalked away. He didn’t stop for anyone. Keiran moved to the door but Dhiren shoved him aside. He had disappeared down the corridor before anyone thought to try calling him back.
Georgianna squeaked as her breath returned. She covered her mouth, holding onto the sound, onto the fear it revealed. They were all staring at her with varying degrees of suspicion. Keiran’s glare was the worst. Was it anger, like Dhiren’s, or simply disappointment? She had begged him to save Edtroka, and now she’d simply let him go? No wonder he couldn’t understand.
“You need a new leader,” Georgianna said, when none of the others spoke. “You elected three and one is gone. You should elect another.”
Olless opened her mouth, but Georgianna didn’t wait to hear what the Cahlven emissary had to say. If she spoke, Georgianna didn’t hear, as she pulled herself from the sticky sensation and followed Dhiren.
He stood as still as the trees around him, staring through the shield border. He made no motion to show he had noticed her approach, but he knew she was there, and she’d made no effort to be quiet. Twigs and dead leaves rustled beneath her boots, and her clothes had snagged on branches more than once as she followed him through the trees.
Truthfully, she was glad for her lack of skill in silent tracking. She didn’t want to surprise him. Back on the ship, he’d looked ready to punch her, and she was concerned that he might take the opportunity to do it now and blame it on being surprised.
“Go away, Med.”
Georgianna brushed a branch aside and moved to join him, stopping just short of the barrier. Only a shimmer showed its existence, like hot air rising from burning ground. It rippled and distorted the forest beyond its border. Wide patches of ground were burned on the other side, trees scarred and fallen. The Adveni had bombed around them as they searched for the limits of the shield. That was what they did. They destroyed whatever they could touch until they found the problem. She couldn’t see how the Cahlven could even consider calling a truce with people who would burn everything down, given the chance.
Dhiren didn’t move away as she stood next to him and stared out at the desolation beyond their little protective bubble. He ground his teeth, then flexed his hands, balling them into fists. She didn’t recoil.
“Do you think he’s gone back?” she asked.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t look at her. Even with only a breath of air between them, he looked completely alone, lost in whatever he thought was outside the barrier.
“You were planning a back-up before the message came in, right? A place to hide and wait out the war. Would he go there?”
Dhiren’s resolve broke with a heave of his chest. He shook his head.
“The back-up was my idea,” he said. “I had to beg him to even consider it.”
“He seemed to be on board.”
“He was humouring me.”
Georgianna frowned.
“Why, though?”
“E’Troke knew he wouldn’t be allowed to live. He knew it in that prison cell,” said Dhiren. He flexed his fingers in and out of fists. “He knew that if I didn’t kill him, the Adveni would. Better to save someone who doesn’t have a clock ticking over his head.”
Georgianna turned to him, her arm brushing the barrier. A shock ran through her body which made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She sidestepped away from the shield and rubbed her hands vigorously over her skin.
“So you think—”
“That he’s gone back to hand himself in? Yes.”
As little as Georgianna wanted to believe that Edtroka would walk willingly to his death, she knew Dhiren was right. One person didn’t win a war. Edtroka had told her it was bigger than them all. Even Alec had known that Edtroka would sacrifice people if it meant giving them a chance to win the war against the Adveni. She’d just never thought he’d martyr himself, not like this.
“Who would he go to?”
“His father.”
She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it as she gazed past Dhiren at the trees. He turned to her, his arm grazing across the barrier edge. He shook it off with a grimace and glared.
“Why do you care?”
“What?”
“You said that we should let him go, that he made his choice,” he said. “So, why do you care?”
Meeting his gaze, Georgianna forced a half-smile.
“I said that to Olless,” she said, propping her hands on her hips. “Do you think they would have turned down the chance to finish this war quickly without more bloodshed? At the loss of just one life, they end the bloodshed by talking round a table.”
“But you just supported it.”
“I said what she wanted to hear so she’d look the other way.” Glancing over her shoulder, she peered through the trees before turning back to Dhiren. “If we’re going to stop Edtroka, we need to do it ourselves.”
Dhiren straightened up, eyes narrowing as he looked down at her. For a few seconds he simply stared. And then he grinned.
“He won’t be easy to track,” he said. “E’Troke has training. He knows the land.”
“He’ll also have the tsentyl he used on the way here.”
“How do you know?”
“He’s wanted as a traitor. He’ll need to make sure he isn’t killed before the commanders know the Cahlven are agreeing to the deal, right? You said he’d go to his father. Nobody would let him anywhere near the Volsonnar unless he organised it in advance.”
Dhiren opened and closed his mouth. He scratched the side of his neck and jaw, and huffed.
“But how would we even track that? We don’t have the technology to send him a message, let alone figure out where he is.”
Georgianna clapped Dhiren on the shoulder, giving him a broad smile.
“No, but he used that tsentyl to contact the Cahlven once they were in range,” she said. “Keiran can get the information for us.”
“Keiran, who you’ve been avoiding since we got here?” he asked. “How are you going to convince him?”
Georgianna felt like he’d let all the air out of her. She’d been winding herself up, convincing herself that they could do this, that they could help Edtroka and make sure the struggle wasn’t for nothing. But with a single question, Dhiren had unravelled everything. She’d not even considered that Keiran may not agree to her plan. In fact, for a few glorious minutes she’d managed to forget that Keiran was upset with her.
What if Dhiren was right and Keiran couldn’t be convinced? He’d been given an important position by the Cahlven, not that he seemed to be taking to leadership. If anything, he’d been much happier when no one knew what he was doing.
“I�
�ll figure something out,” she said, brushing aside Dhiren’s words, and her own worries. There was no room for fear within the shield. “After all, we traitors have to stick together, right?”
Dhiren’s laugh was bitter, and he turned back to the barrier, reaching out to slide his finger through the ripples.
“Right.”
Keiran paced. Wet leaves clung to his boots, mulch gathering in the treads with every step. He glanced down at her but didn’t stop moving, back and forth, back and forth. It hadn’t been easy to get him out here, and the silence as they walked had been excruciating. Georgianna wasn’t sure how to begin. She’d sat on a log and patted the space next to her, but he didn’t sit. He just paced, and she had lost what she’d been planning to say.
She thought that maybe he would be more inclined to listen to her if she apologised. Helping Edtroka was more important than her pride. But the words still wouldn’t come.
“Did you bring me here just to stare, George?”
She shook her head and stabbed the mud between her feet with a stick.
“I need your help,” she said. “ We need your help.”
“We?”
“Dhiren and me.”
Keiran nodded and clasped his hands behind his back. He stopped pacing and looked down at her, waiting. Georgianna was reminded of sitting in front of her father as he berated her over one wrongdoing or another. It was the way he looked at her, as if he knew exactly what she was about to say.
“You’re going to leave.”
It wasn’t a question, and Keiran’s expression was blank and emotionless. His gaze swept over her face, and she wished that he’d look at her the way he used to. She longed for those nights in his shack down in the tunnels where he would memorise her face, taking in each detail as if he’d never see it again, and he needed the moment to remember. Now there was nothing.
“We need to find Edtroka.”
“You said we should let him go.”
“I lied.”
He smiled, without humour.
“Yes, I think quite a few people are beginning to realise you’re better at that than they’d expected.”
Heat burned in her cheeks. She looked away and scraped the muck from the bottom of her boot. It gave way easily, sloughing from the stick onto the ground. She sniffed and rubbed her thumb under her nose. Not all marks were as easy to remove as the dead leaves and dirt. Keiran knew that as well as she did. The Grutt mark on his shoulder that branded him as a traitor would never truly heal.
“I lied because I don’t trust the Cahlven to help Edtroka.”
“You’d be right,” he said. “Olless has no intention of finding out where he has gone.”
“We can find out. If you want no part in it after this, I’ll understand. You have a position here and you can try to change things, but please do this for me, Keiran.”
She met his gaze and he folded his arms, frowning. Taking a deep breath, he broke eye contact and stared over her head. He rolled his shoulders and stretched out his neck.
“What is it you’re asking me to do?”
“Edtroka will have the tsentyl with him. He used it to contact the Cahlven on our way here. We need to track it in order to find him. The Cahlven must have that technology.”
He swept his tongue across his bottom lip.
“And if I say no? How will you track him then?”
“We can’t.”
Keiran let out a low hum as he turned and resumed pacing, watching the ground passing beneath his feet. Georgianna waited, but the silence stretched on and he didn’t seem keen on sharing his thoughts.
“You owe me this, Keiran. You owe him. I saved your life with his help.”
Keiran stopped but didn’t look at her. He stared at the trees in front of him and she could see as he drew his drawn cheek between his teeth. His nostrils flared and he flexed his fingers against his sleeves.
“Is that how it’s going to be, then?” he asked, his voice as hollow as the look in his eyes. “Trading scores on what we owe each other?”
Georgianna flung the stick down into the leaves and forest debris.
“You tell me! Since you seem so keen on trading on what I do and who for. I talk to Alec and you think it’s a slight against you. I help you and he sees it as a personal attack. So, why don’t you tell me who is keeping score, Keiran?”
Keiran frowned at the tree. He shifted his weight and unfolded his arms, burying his hands in his pockets. Georgianna got to her feet and moved in closer. Standing behind him, she touched his elbow, sliding her hand up his arm. His skin was warm and welcoming through his shirt, but he flinched at the touch. She pulled her fingers back.
“Will you help us? Will you add another mark to my score?”
The sun began to sink behind the horizon and he still didn’t answer.
Georgianna traipsed up the stairs, her footfalls heavy against the metal rungs. She’d never been this high into the ship before. Usually her trips were confined to the rooms on the lower levels where Olless held meetings. This time there had been no summons, no official gathering to sit through. This time, Olless would listen and Georgianna would talk.
Although the ship looked massive from the ground, it was nothing to the interior. Corridors stretched and snaked, interconnected and twisting. A great clear box rocketed up and down, through a zig-zagging staircase, carrying people and supplies through the centre. Curious gazes shot past as she continued up the stairs, only to pause at each floor to see if it was the one she wanted. With her high station, Olless had been granted a place above the barracks of the general Cahlven soldiers. Georgianna had already peered through three windows onto long rows of beds; some empty, some not. Her heart beat harder with every floor and her palms were slippery on the metal handrail. The next one. It would be the next one.
Keiran had told her how to find Olless, and she didn’t want to think about the way her heart had burned at the knowledge that he knew where the emissary slept. She focussed on his instructions: up the stairs until she’d passed the barracks and then along the corridor to the right. The door would be marked, she would recognise it.
When she finally came upon a corridor without a row of beds on the other side of the door, Georgianna pushed through and hurried along, checking each door.
The shout was nothing she had ever heard before and Georgianna spun on her heel, jumping towards the wall. The man in the black suit marched over, speaking in a tongue she didn’t understand.
“I’m sorry?”
Heavy lines came between the soldier’s brows and his lips puffed out as he glared at her.
“What you doing here?”
Georgianna glanced down the corridor and grasped her hands behind her back the way she’d seen Olless do when in front of the projection of the Colvohan.
“I’m looking for Olless,” she said.
“You not here.”
Georgianna blinked.
“I am here.”
“You not be here!”
“Do you mean I’m not meant to be here?”
He nodded vigorously.
“Olless?” she asked hopefully.
The soldier considered her for a few moments. His lower lip was thicker than could be considered natural as he pushed it far out and looked both ways down the corridor. Finally, he huffed.
“Next!” he said, pointing along the corridor. “Then, you not here.”
“Absolutely! I promise.”
Georgianna beamed at him and crossed a finger over her heart. He stared at her chest and mimicked the motion back to her like a salute.
With no time to explain the meaning behind the gesture, Georgianna hurried away down the corridor. When she looked back, the soldier was gone.
The door was marked with a small copper plaque. Olless’ name and title had been engraved in the centre in both Veuric and the Cahlven tongue. The metal gleamed in the artificial light and Georgianna guessed that it hadn’t been there long. She wondered whether Olless had commis
sioned it especially for the trip. It didn’t make a lot of sense that the label was written in Veuric as well, but it didn’t matter now.
Her knock echoed in the long corridor, rebounding back from all sides. She stepped close, craning to hear something on the other side of the door. Nothing. Not even muffled movements. Apart from the sound of her own fading knocks, all was silent.
Georgianna jumped a foot into the air when the door slid unexpectedly open with a soft whoosh. Straightening herself up, she attempted to smile. It fell flat and she settled for tucking her hair behind her ear.
Olless wore a long dress in a thin material that flowed out from her hips and swayed silently, swirling like water. Her hair was free of its usual braid and cascaded to her waist. Georgianna stared. Olless was beautiful in a way she never looked in her uniform. Unrestrained and relaxed.
“Miss Lennox,” Olless said, her lavender eyes surveying her as Georgianna continued to stare. “What can I do for you?”
Georgianna coughed and looked up.
“I want to talk to you about Edtroka.”
“I was under the impression that particular conversation was finished.”
Olless leaned against the doorframe, her bare shoulder malleable against the hard metal. Dark tendrils of ink spread across her pale skin like vines all the way down to the wrist. She smiled at Georgianna’s wandering gaze.
“A different mark than the Adveni,” she said, reaching up and tracing a long slim finger along one of the lines. “This one, for example, was not required as some rite of passage.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Because I liked it.”
Georgianna nodded absently and glanced both ways down the corridor. She took a step away from Olless, grasping her hands behind her back. She couldn’t let the Cahlven emissary see that her fingers were shaking.
“You wanted to speak to me about Grystch?”
“You always call him that.”