“Well, you have acted as Captain before, and you have done so in a circumstance involving the Novai. It seems to me you are better equipped to ensure a positive outcome.”
His words were humbled, but I did not believe he was being honest with himself or with me. If his assertion was his only reason, I doubted he would press me so hard to take over his role in the mission. I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Katil,” I said sternly, “you must understand that I cannot in good conscience allow you to captain the Dhal’atian fleet if you cannot at the very least open yourself to the genuine reasons for your concerns.”
He looked at me for a moment, and I could see the thoughts shooting past the backs of his eyes. Finally, he lowered his head and said shamefacedly, “Yes, Wise One.”
“So, what is it that is truly causing you uncertainty?”
With a slow exhale, he confessed, “I am afraid I will fail you. This is the most important task to which I have ever been assigned.”
Suddenly, understanding of his mental plight dawned upon me like the morning sun on a cloudless day. I immediately comprehended not only what he was telling me but why I had grown so fond of Katil during my reign as Elder. He reminded me of myself. He was an extraordinarily dedicated warrior who obeyed every command given to him without question, and he left no room for missteps in his life. Dhal’at was as much a part of who he was as was his stoicism or his light eyes. He accepted only success, and the very notion of failure rocked him to his core.
“The only failure is a lack of trying,” I told him, leaning across the tabletop in earnest and jarring the map. “That is not to say there are no accidents or mistakes. Trouble arises, and sometimes it gets the better of us. What is important, though, more important than anything else, is giving your best effort. As long as you do so, you will not fail me.”
I had not the faintest clue how old Katil was, but he appeared to me then like a nervous youth, and I had become his mentor. Perhaps I had had a misconception about the true purpose of Elders all along. I had always believed an Elder’s power and authority defined him, but this quiet conversation between Katil and me made me feel as if the actual purpose of an Elder was not as grandiose as I had once believed. Perhaps an Elder’s purpose was nothing more than to mentor other willing minds to be the best version of themselves they were able.
“I appreciate that, Wise One,” Katil said. He seemed a hint more confident, if only for the moment. “And I would also like to tell you, in the event something happens and I do not return from the mission, it has been an honor to serve under your rule.”
My chest warmed despite myself. He was the first of the Dhal’atian citizens to say anything so kind to me. I had grown leaps and bounds from my prior state of obsession over the public perception of me, and I was more confident in myself than I had ever been, but hearing those words from my most trusted warrior was akin to receiving an injection straight to the heart of all the validation I ever needed.
“Thank you,” I responded with the utmost genuineness. “I cannot tell you what it means to me to hear so. But I must request you make an amendment to your otherwise touching statement. You will return from the mission. Do you understand?”
He grinned, the first grin I had ever seen from him, and I could not help but return it as he said, “Yes, Wise One.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Octavia
My favorite time of day had become the sunset. I’d always been an afternoon person more than anything else, mainly because sunshine filled me with a contentedness I coveted. But sunset was when the salon closed for the day, and I was free to pack up my things, check my hair one last time, and bound off to the palace to be with Venan.
The hues of rose and gold were streaking the sky as I worked on flattening the flyaway hairs on Edie’s head that evening, and I was starting to feel the familiar palpitations of excitement in my chest. My eagerness didn’t escape the discerning eye of the ever-vigilant Edie, and she smiled smugly at me through the mirror.
“You’re going to see him after you’re done with me, aren’t you?” she teased.
I tucked a loose strand beneath the others. “Is it that obvious?”
“Yes. You’re pretty much levitating a foot off the ground.”
I actually looked down as if expecting to see a foot of space between the soles of my shoes and the hard clay floor of the salon. When I looked back up to return to her hair, she was knowingly beaming.
“Don’t you get excited when you know you’re going to see Eric?” I asked. It felt strange on my tongue to say his name, and it felt stranger to associate his name with his face. I’d grown so used to thinking of him as nothing more than Edie’s Corporal that I sometimes had to do a double-take and remember who I was talking about before I realized I hadn’t mistaken him for someone else.
“Yeah, but we’re past the point of floating on air,” she answered.
Hearing that made me feel a little sorry for her. I knew comfort in a relationship was a milestone every couple reached at some point, but I couldn’t imagine being anything less than irritatingly dreamy whenever I knew I was going to see Venan no matter how deep into the relationship we were. It was very easy for me to picture myself in fifty years with glowing cheeks and dancing eyes as I waited for him to come home from a long day of Elder work. Every human relationship I’d had was exactly like Edie was describing: the magic and mystery waned into comfort and security, and seeing that person’s face became a given from a gift. Maybe Venan and I would reach that point someday, but today and every day in the foreseeable future was one of girlish thrill with the knowledge I would soon taste his kiss.
The salon door banged open without warning, and both Edie and I jumped in surprise. An A’li-uud strode in purposefully, her arms held rigidly at her sides and her hands clenched into balls. I started to tell her we were closed for the day and I was just finishing up my last client when I noticed the definition of her cheekbones and angle of her eyes.
It was Ola, Venan’s sister.
I had no idea what I was supposed to feel toward her. Venan had made it clear he regarded her with revulsion, and it was my understanding Zuran would have killed her long ago if he hadn’t given up his criminal ways. She had never done anything to harm or offend me, of course, and I was frankly of the opinion that her adulterous transgression was hardly a reason for her entire family to disown her without a second thought. However, my loyalty to Venan made me question whether I was supposed to harbor a distaste for her despite having never exchanged a word.
For the moment, I decided on politeness. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed,” I told her. “We’ve got plenty of time for walk-ins tomorrow, though.”
“Tell me about your relationship with Elder Venan.” The command was so blunt and so unexpected I had to second-guess whether her English was too choppy to comprehend properly. It wasn’t, of course.
Edie was watching my interaction with Ola through the mirror, and I could feel her critically curious gaze on me. I knew she was dying to know if I knew this A’li-uud and everything that went along with it: who she was, how I knew her, why she came into the salon. The minute Ola left, Edie was going to be on me like white on rice, and I was probably going to end up an hour late to the palace.
“I—” There wasn’t enough time to process Ola’s demand and theorize the reasons for her asking. A courteous avoidance seemed like the safest response. “I’ll be happy to discuss that with you somewhere else another time, but this is where I work, and I’m with a client right now.”
“Does he love you?” she drilled. That question could have been asked a hundred different ways for a hundred different reasons—excited gossip, envious longing, tearful misery—but it sounded nothing short of sinister coming out of the female alien’s mouth. I was starting to grow wary of her. Something didn’t feel right about her combative stance and her probing stare and her aggressive tone. Feeling discomfort around someone was one thing, but it was something els
e completely for the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up in a particular person’s presence.
“I really don’t think this is the time or the place to talk about this,” I said curtly. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’m with a cl—”
A horrible, head-splitting shriek erupted from her skinny throat, and I didn’t realize she’d charged me until I was thrown into the air and came crashing down on top of a supplies cart. Pain splintered my nerves throughout my entire body. I heard clattering and shouts of a scuffle, but I was too dazed to get back on my feet and could only imagine Edie had leaped from the chair to ward off Ola. They were visually evenly matched because, though Edie was almost a foot shorter than the average human and Ola almost a foot taller, the A’li-uud was disturbingly thin without a whisper of the muscle tone that could be seen on every other A’li-uud I’d ever met. Unfortunately, the fair fight ended there. Venan had told me enough for me to know Ola was relatively well-trained as a youth in the art of combat and had learned the dirtier tricks of fighting after she reached adulthood. Edie, on the other hand, was quick and scrappy but far from a solid contender.
I heard a smash and a high-pitched, “Agh!” A split second later, Ola’s face appeared above mine. She took me by the throat and pulled me upright, my limbs pulsing in protest, and she threw me in the direction of the door. My ankles twisted around each other, and I stumbled to the ground.
A wild cry suddenly assaulted my eardrums, and I recognized it to be Edie. Rolling over onto my back, I saw my petite, spunky friend leap on Ola’s back from behind and begin clawing manically at the female’s face. Ola bellowed in anger and pain, and, with surprising grace, she ran fluidly backward to the wall, smashing Edie against the clay. Edie crumpled to the ground with a yelp, and Ola leaped across the salon to me again. She snagged a handful of my hair and used it as leverage to lift me to my feet. My scalp burned with the force of her pull, and I ignored the stabbing pain in my legs as I jumped up in an effort to trade one pain for another.
Edie was clambering shakily to her feet again, but Ola yanked my head back by my hair, and I felt cool metal against my throat.
“I will spill her at your feet,” she spat.
Edie froze, her knees still bent a fraction. She looked terrified. I tried to soothe her with my eyes because panicking would be the worst possible thing to do right now.
“Do. Not. Move,” Ola ordered.
“I won’t,” Edie gasped. “Just…let her go.”
Ola cackled and started walking backward, dragging me along with her. The blade on my neck didn’t lift, but my jerking steps caused it to dig uncomfortably into my flesh. When we reached the salon door, I was whipped around without warning, and Ola wrenched me into the blossoming night.
Chapter Forty-Three
Venan
The dining hall looked pleasantly festive. It had not been my intention to make this dinner a particularly grand affair, but I had returned from the bay hours ago and decided to prepare for the evening early. Somehow, what should have been a rather simple task had turned into a deeply-focused period of ensuring perfection. The result was a splendidly-decorated entrance of vines and flowers, dozens more ropes of illuminated geodes swooping across the ceiling, fully-outfitted place settings, and an aroma of rich sauce and succulent meat in the air.
Octavia was to be arriving at any moment, and I was eagerly anticipating the sight of her luscious form and awe-inspiring face appearing through the adorned archway.
After receiving the validation from Katil earlier, I was in a stellar mood. Even if he was the only warrior under my command who felt honored to serve beneath me, it was enough. It meant I was making headway, proving myself to be a noble A’li-uud, or at the very least proving I was not the destructive and self-serving A’li-uud I was perceived to be. The only thing that would make the day better was Octavia, and I would be complete.
A high-pitched yell attracted my attention away from the dining hall. I paused and listened closely, trying to ascertain from whence the sound came and for what reason. I heard a deep but unintelligible response, and then another cry. It was all too reminiscent of what I had heard from my bedroom the day I had granted Octavia the freedom to come and go from the palace as she pleased, and I felt a stroke of irritation that she should be having trouble entering without an escort again. Striding purposefully out of the hall into the foyer, I flung one of the two doors open.
It was not Octavia arguing with my guards. It was Edie.
Her arms were flailing around her head in a frenzy, and her features were twisted with panic. Even from the distance, I could see her eyes were widened nearly to the point of bursting right out of her head. She screamed at Grivil at the top of her lungs, and I knew even the sounds of the budding nighttime crowd on the Merchant’s Walk would not be enough to drown her.
A hard knot gelled in my stomach as I descended the staircase to the path leading to her. I could imagine only one reason Edie would be outside my palace at the dinner hour in a state of utter hysteria, and it had to do with Octavia. Something was very, very wrong.
“What has happened?” I demanded. “What is the trouble?”
“Wise One, she is insisting on seeing you,” Grivil replied hotly. I needed no light to see his face was darkened to navy with anger. “She has lost her head completely. I think she needs to be taken back to the colony and placed under surveillance.”
“No, I don’t!” Edie bellowed at him.
I looked at her, and, to my horror, I saw a series of patches on her arms I could only guess were bruises beginning to form. Her hair was in complete disarray, and she held herself as if she was in a measure of pain. I held up a hand to keep Grivil quiet and asked her urgently, “What has happened to you, Edie?”
“It doesn’t matter what happened to me; Octavia’s in trouble!” she spouted, her words blending into a single breath. She lunged forward to grab my hand in earnest. Grivil took a step toward her, prepared to break her hold on me, but I stopped him with a jerk of my head.
“What is wrong with Octavia?” I asked. Pumping blood thrummed in my ears, and I was starting to feel as though I would be sick.
She could hardly breathe. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and every inhalation was accompanied with a squeaking wheeze. She released me and pointed back toward the colony as she panted, “She was taken!”
“Taken? What do you mean, taken?”
“I was in the salon. She was doing my hair. I was the only other person in there because they were closed for the night.” She pressed her fist to her chest and gasped, and I reached to pat her back soothingly despite my growing need to double over and wretch. “Someone came in, an A’li-uud. A female A’li-uud. She wanted to know about you.”
Realization was beginning to set in, and in place of the nausea came raw, bitter rage. I needed more information, though, before I stormed off. “What did she want to know about me?”
“She wanted to know about your relationship. With Octavia,” Edie said. She turned her head to look back in the direction she was pointing, and the angle cast a ray from the rising moon onto her eyes. They were glistening, and I saw moist streaks painted on her cheeks. “She asked if you loved her.”
“If I loved Octavia?”
Edie nodded. My brain was starting to buzz dully, blocking out everything except the panic, and my fingers were starting to go numb with shock.
“What happened then?”
“Octavia asked her to leave, basically. She said she’d talk to her when she wasn’t at work.” A sob broke through Edie’s explaining, and she shuddered as the grief and fear threatened to take hold. “Then, she attacked.”
Though the sun was setting and the day was growing dim, I was blinded with crimson rage. I was fairly certain I already had all the answers I needed, but Edie continued to blubber on.
“She knocked Octavia down, and I started trying to fight her off, and she knocked me down, then she went for Octavia again, and I tried to stop her, but
she shoved me against the wall and pulled a knife,” she wept. “She told me, if I moved, she’d spill Octavia’s blood at my feet.”
I had heard enough. I knew all I needed to know. Years of exile had not eliminated the knowledge and familiarity I had with my sister’s roguish ways, and the story Edie was telling me was as evidential as if I had seen the scene with my own eyes. Had the attack been impersonal and random, questions about me would not have come up, certainly not pertaining to my feelings for Octavia. No, there could only be one offender, and she was unstable enough that I realized every second I waited was a second closer to Ola’s complete mental breakdown and Octavia’s potential death.
“Grivil, please escort Edie back to the colony,” I ordered rapidly. “See to it she is safe and comfortable. Bring her anything she desires, and tell Zuran he is to be stationed outside her hut tonight.”
“Zuran has gone home for the day,” Grivil pointed out.
I shot him a warning look. “Then, fetch him from his home and tell him there has been a change in orders. Go. Now.”
He turned without another word, nudging Edie along with him back toward the colony. I wracked my brain for a moment to decide what my best course of action would be, but the pressure of wasted time was too great to bear. My saber was in the palace rather than on my person, which meant I was absolutely unarmed, and by Edie’s account Ola was in possession of at least one knife. It would have been prudent to dart back inside to retrieve the sword from my chambers, but I could not stand the thought of Octavia alone with my unbalanced sister for any longer period of time than she had to be. I made a rash decision and took off, kicking sand in every direction as I raced toward the Ka-lik’et gates.
Chapter Forty-Four
Venan: A Paranormal Sci-Fi Alien Romance: Albaterra Mates Book 7 (The End) Page 21