Halehl froze against her, his body going absolutely still. She could smell his fear, sour and pungent. Ampris went no further. She simply held him, letting him know that his life lay in her jaws. With one twist of her head she could rip out his throat.
An eternity passed between them, but Ampris was counting the seconds in her head. She held him the legal time required in the arena, then she released him and backed away fast. Her gaze stayed on him warily, and her heart was pounding.
He could order her killed on the spot for what she’d just done. Or maybe, she hoped, he was intelligent enough to get her message.
Backing to a safe distance out of his immediate reach, she met his blazing eyes without showing her fear. “I understand, Master Halehl,” she said. “But I do know the difference between practice and real competition.”
Ruar, who had fled halfway across the ring when she attacked, now ventured back to them. He scuttled over and picked up the transmitter, handing it to Halehl with a cringing bow.
Halehl grabbed it from him without a glance. But he didn’t activate it, didn’t punish Ampris.
She waited, holding her breath, not sure yet what he would do. But every passing second meant that he was thinking, which meant she had a better chance of surviving. Inside, she wanted to throw back her head and laugh. The expression in his eyes when she’d first grabbed him had been priceless.
For a few moments, he had feared her. She had seen his terror, his certainty that she meant to tear him to pieces. If he let her live, he would never feel completely at ease with her again. And that suited her fine.
“You will not do that again,” he said, and his voice still sounded breathless. His tongue flickered in and out rapidly.
Ampris swallowed her smile and kept her face expressionless. “No, Master Halehl,” she said meekly.
His gaze snapped to Ruar. “Tomorrow she will train in a muzzle.”
“As the master says.”
Ampris scowled and backed her ears. She hated muzzles.
Halehl was still giving orders to Ruar, his voice harsh and flat. “And make sure she spends the rest of the day on the track. I want her exhausted by the time you lead her back to her quarters. Is that understood?”
“As the master says.”
Halehl turned away from the bowing Myal and spoke into his hand-link. “I want two slaves in the outdoor ring immediately. Rake it and put away the equipment. Yes, and have the team ready for drills. Indoors, yes. Out.”
Snapping off the link, he strode away without glancing back at Ampris.
She watched him go, knowing that today she had won. Satisfied, she let herself grin at his departing back. But she did not gloat long, for she knew that tomorrow she might be far less lucky.
CHAPTER•FOUR
Ruar opened a pack and gave her a cold meal of grains and fruit, while her muscles stiffened in the cold air, then she spent the rest of the day walking around the long oval track at the rear of the compound. No running, just walking. Endless laps, around and around, until her hips ached and her leg muscles burned.
She saw no one the rest of the day, not a single individual except for Ruar and the slaves who came to put up the blue balls left in the outdoor ring by Halehl. The team never reappeared. No other staff members came to watch her.
In the places where the track paralleled the compound wall, she looked up at how it towered above her. It was solidly constructed of fired dirt bricks, taller than she could jump. Ampris could hear birdsong in the forest beyond. Now and then she heard a strange buzzing sound as though the shields were repelling something. The smells which came to her nostrils were of damp soil, leaf mold, fungus, and rodent scent—interesting, primitive smells that she used to distract herself from her physical misery as she walked lap after boring lap.
She was allowed to stop at dusk. By then she did not think she could make the long walk across the compound to her quarters, much less climb the steps. Yet Ruar kept muttering at her and jerking the leash. Damp, cold, and numb, she staggered at last into her sitting room, where Elrabin was waiting with the heaters on and lamplight glowing warm.
He unbuckled her harness without a word and peeled the sensor suit off her. Beneath it, her fur clung dark and wet to her skin. She shivered and moaned softly.
“I know,” Elrabin said. His hands were gentle as he led her to the bathing chamber. Fragrant, steaming water filled the pool. He laced the water with additional oils and unfolded the massage table.
“Dunk yourself,” he said to her. “When you’re clean and dry, get on the table. I’ll let Okal in.”
Ampris pulled out of her exhausted haze for a moment. “Okal?”
“The masseur.”
Delight filled her. “I have my own masseur?”
Elrabin grinned at her and closed the door quietly, leaving her in privacy.
Except for the collar. Ampris gave it a tug, wishing it could come off too, and wondered if it could read her thoughts as well as overhear everything she said. No, she must not become paranoid. It was only a piece of equipment, and like most items of Viis manufacture, it would break down sooner or later and cease to function as it was supposed to.
She soaked in the warm, fragrant water until she fell asleep. Only Elrabin’s tapping at the door awakened her.
Once she was dry and dressed in a long robe of soft, loosely woven material, Okal came in.
He was a Phivean, a cephalopod with a thick, elongated body that ended in a flat, spade-shaped tail and was supported on four stout legs. He was smooth-skinned and entirely hairless, and his olive-green color proclaimed him male, as opposed to the yellowish-pink hue of female Phiveans. He had five waving tentacles lining his body on either side, the front two tentacles being longer and stronger than the rest, with pod-shaped tips that curled and uncurled with obvious dexterity. His head was bulbous, encircled with a prominent brow ridge beneath which two knobby, bulging eyes protruded, rolling in all directions and never seeming to focus on or gaze at anything in particular. The upper portion of his mouth formed a sharp, cartilage beak above a round opening lined with waving cilia. There was no part or portion of the Phivean ever completely still. Ampris’s entire impression was of constant movement, rippling and waving.
While she had seen vids of Phiveans, she had never actually met one before. Phiveans were one of the many Abiru species not permitted in the Imperial Court. Nor had there been any at Bizsi Mo’ad.
Okal went directly to her. With both of his front tentacles, he pointed at the massage table.
Ampris looked at him without moving. “I am Ampris,” she said with courtesy. “To be massaged by the expert touch of a Phivean is an honor I have never enjoyed before. Thank you.”
Okal’s eyes rolled in all directions, and half of his tentacles lifted into the air. He approached her on his stout, slow-moving legs, then one of his long front tentacles reached out and ever so gently touched the Eye of Clarity suspended around her neck.
“Do you recognize it?” Ampris asked softly. As she spoke, she glanced at Elrabin to see if it was safe to speak freely.
As though he understood her unspoken question, he gave her a nod. “No surveillance cams in the bathing chambers,” he said with a grin. “The steam makes ’em malfunction.”
“The Eye of Clarity is a symbol of abiru unity,” Ampris said to Okal. “It is very old, from a time before the Viis became our masters. I wear it now in hope of our future, when we may again someday be free.”
Okal explored the surface of the amulet tenderly, with reverence, the tip of his front tentacle moving with extreme gentleness to curl around it and hold it for a long moment. His bulging eyes closed, and he stood there swaying slightly from side to side.
Ampris stared at him in astonishment, wondering if he recognized it from some legends of his own past culture, wondering if he simply accepted what she had said. Or perhaps the Eye of Clarity communicated with this individual in some way that she could not understand. After all, her old teacher Bish
had told her the Eye of Clarity had considerable powers, if she could only learn how to unlock them. So far, she never had.
“Does it speak to you?” she asked. It wasn’t glowing with light like it had once done for her, but Okal seemed to be communing with it in some way. “What is it like, to feel what it says?”
Okal opened his eyes. His tentacle uncurled, releasing the Eye of Clarity, and slid away. Backing up from her, he lowered his head respectfully until the end of his bulbous skull nearly touched the floor.
“I’ve never seen him bow to anyone but Halehl before,” Elrabin said. “You’re a big hit, Goldie.”
She shot Elrabin a look of impatience. “I just wear the thing, that’s all.”
“Thing of beauty,” Okal said. His voice was thin, and soft, barely audible, a hissing, sibilant sound filled with air. It made her think of reeds whistling together as the river waves shifted them against the bank. “So many beauty,” Okal whispered. “Eye of Slarities. Many precious. Symbols we see from times before.”
“Yes,” Ampris said eagerly. “So you know what it is.”
“Yes. Symbols we see from times before.”
“That’s what Bish told me,” she said to Elrabin, ignoring his look of puzzlement. “My old teacher. He said that all the abiru races knew these and used them, long ago.”
Elrabin shrugged. “Never heard of ’em, myself.” He came over and peered at the pendant with the appraising squint of a thief. “That stone’s not a precious jewel. Some kind of natural crystal, maybe. But so many occlusions inside it will bring down the value.”
“Its value has to do with its history,” Ampris said impatiently, pulling away from his scrutiny. “It’s old, a relic of the past.”
“Yeah, and how did you get it, bright eyes?” he asked.
“It was given to me.”
“By who?”
Annoyed, she looked away from Elrabin’s bright curiosity and Okal’s reverent attention. She didn’t want the conversation going in this direction. “It doesn’t matter now. That’s all in the past, anyway. I wear it for luck.”
Okal took the hint and moved away, unrolling towels across the massage table and patting them deftly into place.
But Elrabin went on staring at Ampris. “It came from her, didn’t it?” he asked. Suddenly his light brown eyes knew too much, saw too much. “She gave it to you.”
Ampris backed her ears and didn’t answer.
“Why do you wear something given to you by a Viis?” he asked. “Do you still think she’s grand?”
“No,” Ampris said, her voice very low. She stared into the distance, seeing nothing.
Elrabin touched her arm. “Yes, you do. You’re still hoping, see? Gods, Goldie, ain’t you learned nothing?”
She whirled on him in fury. “I’ve learned a lot! I don’t hope for anything. And I don’t need your opinions. No one asked you, anyway.”
“Who?” Okal asked, his question like a breath.
Ampris glared at him, but Elrabin answered. “The sri-Kaa gave her the necklace,” he said with scorn. “It’s old, cheap, and worth nothing, but she thinks it’s just grand. Ampris, if you want to be tortured, why don’t you just stick your hand in Ylea’s mouth and let her chew?”
“Necklace symbols from times before,” Okal said before Ampris could retort. “Comes from hands of sri-Kaa?”
He sounded impressed, and his eyes rolled about more than ever.
Ampris sighed impatiently. “Now look what you’ve done,” she said to Elrabin. “No one is supposed to know that. Halehl will order it taken away if he thinks it’s worth something.”
“Oh, no, don’t take it away,” Elrabin said, his scorn raking her. “Don’t lose a gift from your precious Israi. Didn’t she betray you? Didn’t she sell you? Ain’t you here, now, because of her?”
“I hate her!” Ampris said, goaded too far. She growled at Elrabin, baring her teeth. “With every whipping I’ve taken. With every set of blisters worn on my hands. With every cold meal I’ve choked down. I wear her gift so I won’t forget her, so I won’t stop hating her, so I won’t forget my vow to get out of this, somehow, someday.”
Her voice rang out in the bathing chamber, loud and bitter. She fell silent then, breathing hard as she struggled to master her emotions, to keep them hidden and controlled and festering deep inside her.
Okal dropped his towels and simply stood in place, tentacles fluttering aimlessly in distress.
Elrabin swiveled his ears back and dropped his gaze from hers. “Sorry,” he said. “Guess I went too far.”
Ampris swallowed another growl. She turned away from him, gathering the folds of her robe around her. “I guess you did.”
Elrabin said nothing more, but Okal seemed agitated.
He rolled his eyes and the tiny cilia around his mouth worked frantically. “You sent to palace?” he asked. “You see Kaa?”
Ampris battled her rising exasperation. Now the rumors would fly, and every slave in the compound would know about her past and hate her for it. She had no idea how her teammates would react to the news that she used to live in the palace and play with the sri-Kaa when she was a cub, but she could guess. It was bad enough that Halehl had recognized her.
“You see Kaa?” Okal asked again, sounding more excited than ever.
Although she was furious with Elrabin, she couldn’t take it out on Okal. “Yes,” she said as evenly as she could, “I have seen the Kaa.”
Elrabin yipped softly to himself. “That’s an understatement. She used to live in the palace, Okal. She was the pretty playmate of the little sri-Kaa. They went everywhere together. Goldie here used to live the high life, didn’t know how to be anything but a Viis aristocrat herself.”
Ampris flexed her claws, wanting him to shut up. “That’s past. It’s over. You don’t have to keep talking about it.”
As though he finally heard the anger in her voice, Elrabin blinked and snapped his jaws shut.
Okal patted Ampris’s shoulder with one of his tentacles. “Slinging many hatings is to be sorry. Send kindness and clarity between you as the Eye teaches.”
Astonished, Ampris turned to stare at the Phivean. Okal’s eyes darted between her and Elrabin, his short tentacles upraised and swaying.
Ampris realized she had no business losing her temper with Elrabin, even if he was being a pest. Why he had to start bragging tonight, she had no idea. But there was no point in overreacting.
“Okal is right,” she said in apology. “The old teachings about the Eyes of Clarity were about harmony and peace, about different races working together. We should have only one enemy, the—”
“Shut up!” Elrabin said so sharply he startled her. “Just shut up, now.”
Her eyes widened as her breath caught in her throat. “The collars—surveillance—is it on?”
A faint whine came from Elrabin’s throat. He circled the bathing chamber as though he could not be still. She could see his fur bristling around his neck, and within it gleamed a narrow, metal restraint collar, no wider than a filament.
Chilled suddenly, she wondered if they—if she—had gone too far. “Is it on?” she asked again.
Elrabin was still pacing and muttering to himself, rubbing his muzzle with both hands. Growling, he gave her an exasperated nod and strode out.
Ampris stared after him with her ears flat to her skull. She tugged at her own collar, wishing she could rip it off. Elrabin had not yet explained how he knew when the bugs in their collars came on. She had felt nothing, sensed nothing. How much, if any, of their conversation had been recorded? Would they be punished for anything they had said? It had been harmless talk, but when did anyone know which remark or question would offend a Viis? Elrabin’s display of fear worried her.
Sighing, she lifted her gaze and found the Phivean pointing at the massage table. Ampris climbed onto it, and the masseur set to work, finding all her sore and stiff spots. Moaning as he kneaded her muscles back into pliancy, Ampris sank into t
he luxury of his care.
After a while, Okal said, “Soothe yourself, Ampris.” His soft voice hissed to her, reassuring and calm as he applied pressure to a sore spot until the tightness melted away. “Your path is certain and sure. You see what others do not see. Clarity is yours.”
“I don’t feel much clarity,” Ampris said, her voice muffled as she spoke, facedown, into the towel. “I feel confused and afraid.”
“Many precious is the Eye,” Okal said. “This is truth you see?”
“Yes.”
“Trust the Eye, Ampris,” he said, working down her back. “Trust the Eye.”
She twisted her head to look at him. “What do you know? Please tell me. There is so much I would like to learn.”
Okal went on massaging without reply.
A wave of exhaustion washed over her, making it hard to think.
“I had the chance once to learn and I threw it away,” she said drowsily, thinking of the sivo data crystal the archivist Bish had given her long ago, a crystal she had not bothered to read completely. The knowledge it contained had been forbidden, and her possession of it had led to her expulsion from the palace. “What were you taught about the Eye, Okal? Who taught you? You knew immediately what it was. Most abiru don’t even recognize it. The Viis certainly don’t.”
“Viis do not see beyond what is Viis,” Okal said so softly she could barely hear him. “This is not a way of lasting.”
“Okal—”
“Session is finished.”
She lifted her head, but the Phivean was already leaving. “Okal!” she called after him, but he did not stop.
Slowly she sat up and gathered the loose folds of her robe around her. Her eyes were heavy. She wanted to sink down and sleep forever.
Yawning, she wandered into her bedchamber and found the coverlet turned back in readiness for her. She stumbled toward the bed, then heard a faint noise elsewhere and walked into the sitting room instead.
Elrabin crouched on the floor, sorting a stack of vids into separate piles. Even through her haze of fatigue, she could see his hands were shaking. Again, she wondered if they would be punished.
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