Blade Dancer

by S. L. Viehl

  brackets—“enough to bear my weight for a couple hours.”

  “That will seat the broken ends of the bones against each other.” He gave me a dispassionate look. “The

  pain will be unbearable.”

  I pulled the infuser out of my trouser pocket and waggled it. “I have drugs.”

  He nodded. “I will need something to melt the alloy.”

  “Here.” I put a hand on his shoulder as I lowered myself to a mat, then pulled the suture laser I’d stolen

  from medical out of my tunic. “Do it.”

  As Ren adjusted the beam and went to work, the others slowly formed a ring to watch—all but Danea,

  who made an effort to look like she didn’t care what he did. I hid a smirk as I caught her taking peeks

  anyway.

  The brackets conducted the heat from the laser into my flesh, replacing the numbness with fresh pain. I

  took hold of the mat with both hands. By the time he’d finished one side, sweat poured freely down my

  face, and I had ripped out two handfuls of matting.

  “Stop,” Galena said as she knelt beside me. “Please. Please stop doing this to yourself, ClanSister.”

  Renor paused and glanced up at me.

  It would have been easy to give in. Everyone certainly expected me to. I could signal someone, have

  them come and take me back to that comfortable berth in medical, and—once they woke up the doctor

  and the nurse—get some more of those great painkillers the doc had given me. I’d been through enough,

  and I definitely deserved a break.

  I will be waiting for you.

  I avoided Birdie’s touch and set my jaw. “Do the other side, Ren.”

  He bent his head and went back to work. The pain went past unbearable soon after that, and I breathed

  through waves of it, like a mother giving birth. Though it burned, the laser’s heat effectively cauterized the

  last of the raw tissue. Welling blood from the stress of walking slowly cooked until it dried crackling and

  black. Deep inside, I could feel the splintered ends of my bones drawing together.

  To keep my focus, I concentrated on the faces around us. “I’ll need you all there to watch my back and

  keep Fayne’s buddies out of the quad, in case she’s told them to make sure she wins.”

  Nalek opened his mouth, then closed it and averted his gaze.

  Osrea wasn’t so diplomatic. “We cannot go with you.”

  “What are you talking about?” I looked from him to Danea and Birdie. “This is ClanKill. This is for Kol.

  Of course you’re going.”

  “Kol shielded her, Jory.” Nal sounded miserable. “We cannot act against her.”

  “She forced him to shield her in exchange for my life.” I saw their eyes and let out a slow breath. “You

  can’t be serious. She murdered Kol. She killed our ClanBrother.”

  “We are not a HouseClan,” Sparky snarled at me. “We never have been. Now that Kol is dead, we have

  a responsibility to a real HouseClan—Varena. We will respect his shield and find a way to return him to

  his House, where his embrace can be properly celebrated.”

  I sputtered a laugh. “You think Uel is just going to let you have his body and give you a ship to jaunt back

  to Joren?”

  “We will find a way.”

  “You know, Sparky, I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. But I never thought of you as a coward.” I

  eyed her hair. “No wonder it’s yellow.”

  She got down on my level and in my face. “You I should kill. You who diverted his path, and delivered

  him into Fayne’s hands. You who stood and watched and did nothing while he was murdered. You who

  dare call me craven.”

  I could have corrected her, told her about Yen and how Fayne had tricked me. Somehow I just wasn’t

  interested in defending myself to her. “You keep thinking that way, Sparky, if it makes you happy. When

  I’m done with Fayne, you and I can dance.”

  “You will not be dancing.” Ren turned off the laser. “You will be able to stand for a short period of time,

  but eventually the pain will overwhelm you, or the tibia will split. Your leg will collapse.”

  “Whatever.” I used my sword to get to my feet, then tested my weight on the leg. The fused metal

  groaned, but held. The pain made my vision blur, but I was going to save the drugs for the arena.

  “Thanks.”

  Ren brought me a new pair of trousers and helped me get them on. No one said a word until I headed

  for the door panel.

  “I said a foolish thing to you once, ClanSister.” Birdie moved until she was blocking my exit. Tears ran

  freely down her face. “I said nothing hurts you. I was wrong.”

  “Yeah, sweetheart, you were.” I reached out and wiped her cheeks with my fingertips. “Stay here,

  okay?”

  Renor hovered on my other side. “Fayne will kill you in the arena. You cannot beat her in your condition.

  Let me take you to medical, Jory. Save your own life.”

  “My life ended with Kol’s.” I looked down at my ruined knee, then at Danea’s brooding expression. “I

  loved—I honored Kol Varena. On Terra, honor is more than what you feel toward another person. It’s

  personal. It’s what’s inside you that makes life, pain, and even death bearable. Honor won’t be

  satisfied—fuck, I won’t be satisfied until I get some justice for Kol’s murder. If it means I have to die,

  then I will. It’s a fair trade, Ren.”

  I limped out and headed for the quad alone.

  I knew from the moment I’d sent the challenge signal to Fayne that I would die in the quad. Knowing the

  only real family I’d ever had wouldn’t stand with me didn’t matter. It made me a little sad, but in a distant,

  disconnected way. Besides, I didn’t want them to die at the hands of Fayne’s silvers.

  This way was for the best.

  Other trainees in the corridor stepped out of my way as I dragged my mostly useless leg and hobbled

  toward the third-level entrance. Some of the silver bands laughed and pointed, but a number of browns

  and whites stood stiff against the wall panels as I passed them. A few gave me a brief salute with their

  tåns.

  All hail the limping hero.

  At last I got to the end of the corridor. I heard steps behind me, and saw that a small army of trainees

  was shadowing me. It reminded me of how fans used to dog me during pregame warm-ups at the arena.

  Well, I’d definitely be giving them a good show today. I paused to wipe the sweat from my face, then

  entered the third level.

  The Tåna-Shen had already begun, judging by the rainbow of bands waiting to enter the arena. Someone

  shouted as I came in, and the milling crowd parted in front of me, forming a tightly packed

  gauntlet—silvers on one side, browns on the other. No sign of our whites. I ignored them as I limped

  toward the now-empty quad.

  Unlike the time I’d been given a spit-bath on Terra, no one had anything to say. Slowly tåns began to

  appear, and the browns started slapping them together in time with my halting footsteps. The silvers kept

  their blades sheathed, but as the noise grew louder they began exchanging worried looks.

  Dursano got in front of me, but someone dragged him aside. I met Bek’s calm gaze and nodded my

  thanks. The Chakaran inclined his head.

  The clack of the tåns grew deafening as I mounted the platform. Fayne appeared on the other side of the

  quad, completely outfitted in white. Someone offered me an obek-la, but I shook my head.

  Let her watch my face. Let i
t be the last thing she ever sees.

  “You look terrible, Terran,” she called out to me. “Whatever have you done to your leg?”

  “A rat bit me.” As the browns around me snickered, I rolled back the sleeves of Kol’s tunic. “A little

  diseased white rat.”

  “What a pity.” She grabbed the ryata and flipped up and over the top cord, landing on her feet with a

  flourish of spinning blades. “Can you still dance?”

  I lifted my gaze to meet hers. “Oh, yes, Fayne. I can dance.”

  As I prepared to climb into the quad, someone reached out and plucked me backward.

  “Hey.” I turned to face a blade dancer in full dimsilk. “You’re making my rat wait.”

  “Your pardon, lady.” A strong blue hand pushed back the obek-la, and a ghost smiled down at me. “I

  believe I have prior claim.”

  I nearly keeled over. Then I did the second-worst thing and dropped my blades so I could touch his

  face. “You’re alive.”

  Kol touched his brow to mine. “I live, my heart.”

  “But I watched you die.” I couldn’t stop touching him, running my fingers over his hair, gripping his

  shoulders, pressing my palm against his chest—where I made an interesting discovery. “Your implant’s

  gone.”

  “They removed it. There is no poison in it, only a substance that causes one to mimic death.” He lifted my

  hand to his mouth. “They took me to a processing center some distance from here. Those who fail the

  Tåna have their memories wiped clean of this place; then they are sold as slaves.”

  “But you’re here. You remember me.” I knew I sounded like an idiot, but it didn’t make sense. Kol, alive,

  holding me in his arms. Not dead, not mindless, not a slave.

  “Bek persuaded them to set me free before they removed my memory.”

  The Trainer must have known what would happen to Kol—but why would he help us? Was he a slave,

  too? “Didn’t anyone try to stop him or report this to Uel?”

  “By that time, there was no one left alive to do so. Bek had to help me remove the implant.” He looked

  around the arena. “The others must be told. Why are you not in medical?”

  That reminded me. “I have something I have to do.” I kissed him. “I love you, Kol.”

  “Permit me to do this first.” He took my hands in his. “I Choose you, Sajora Raska.”

  My eyes went wide. “You do?”

  “I knew from the moment I first saw you. There is no other; there can be no other.” Then he hooked his

  leg around the only one I had left working, and knocked me off balance. Before I could grab on to

  something, he hefted me up in his arms and tossed me to the side, where three whites caught me and held

  me.

  “Damn it, Kol!” I was crying as I watched him climb into the quad. “You stay alive!”

  All around us, Fayne’s silvers moved in, enclosing the browns, cutting off the quad until they formed a

  living wall. There would be no way we could escape, even if Kol defeated the albino.

  I limped up to Kol’s corner, where white neutrals were assembling en masse. “Let me up front.”

  Many hands helped me until I was on the platform, with a clear view of the quad. In the center, Fayne

  and Kol were facing each other, blades out in raen-tån form, waiting for the other to move.

  The Skogaq looked a little paler than usual. “I killed you once,” she muttered, swinging her sword in a

  fancy weaving pattern, while Kol simply stood and watched her. “I will cut off your head to make sure

  you stay that way this time.”

  He lifted a hand to show her his claws. “I declare you my ClanKill, Fayne of Skogaq.”

  They moved in toward each other, and the crowd erupted with shouts and cries as the two swords

  crashed together. The albino whirled and countered with a short thrust, reversed a heartbeat later but met

  by Kol’s blade. From the look on his face I knew he had already become part of his sword.

  Stay alive, I prayed. Just stay alive.

  They fought with the long swords so ferociously that sparks flew, with moves so fast that I could hardly

  follow the patterns. Fayne worked around him, jabbing feints at his guard, trying to find an opening. Kol

  remained centered, letting her whirl and dive, conserving his energy while counterattacking with cool,

  calm precision.

  On a turn, Fayne abruptly transmuted her blade out of Kol’s sight and whipped around to use the

  thion-tån form to move in and get under his longer sword. Kol knocked her back with a well-placed

  elbow and matched her blade length. The distance between them as they fought began to close.

  I finally understood why they called it the dance as I watched my lover and my enemy battle. The

  patterns and movements seemed accompanied by music only they could hear—terrible, beautiful music

  that echoed in the whisper of their breath, in the crescendo of the blades meeting. Voices quieted as

  everyone in the arena fell under the spell of seeing the savage grace, the clever moves, that should have

  left dismembered limbs all over the quad.

  Fayne liked to use transmutation as part of her attack, hiding the fact that she had shortened her blade

  during a turn or a reverse, but long before she had reached elok-tån form, Kol had already begun to

  anticipate it. I could see the frustration building in her; it etched her narrow face with faint lines and

  mottled patches of hectic color.

  Then she did something no one expected—Fayne retreated, backing away toward Kol’s corner. The

  browns hooted, but the silvers around us seemed to be smirking. I saw why when she turned and thrust

  her elok-tån under her tunic, then brought it out in osu form. She used both blades to slash at me, leaving

  her back vulnerable to Kol’s attack.

  She must be more desperate than I thought. I easily stepped out of reach, then went still as I saw her

  pivot on Kol, who had followed her across the quad. “Kol, watch out!”

  The sound of her tån burying itself in his arm wasn’t right, and I saw why when she jerked it free.

  Her holographite blades wouldn’t dematerialize—Kol’s implant, which controlled that, was gone.

  Kol parried her follow-through thrust and spun around, only inches away from me. His blades were

  reacting to her implant, so they would not stay solid. I had the feeling he meant to use his claws on

  her—Jorenians used no weapons to carry out ClanKill. He needed an edge to get there, so I jerked the

  Omorr blade from my belt.

  “Kol.” I leaned in and used two seconds during one of Fayne’s fancy patterns to toss him the knife. “Use

  this.”

  Fayne saw what I’d done, and her face turned pink. “Kill them all!” she shouted.

  That was when the silvers all around the arena pulled out their blades, and began attacking the browns

  and the whites.

  I couldn’t watch the bout any longer; I was too busy countering attacks from two directions. Three of the

  whites around me fell quickly, and although I knew they weren’t dead, it didn’t help.

  “I should have known the little bitch would turn this into a wholesale slaughter.” I grunted and shoved a

  silver back onto another white’s blade. From the frantic clash of blades behind me, I knew Kol was

  holding his own. But with the deep wound in his arm, how much longer could he do that?

  A huge, block-bodied silver launched himself at me, only to be brought up short. He gave me a peculiar

  look, as if it were my fault.

  “It appears”—
someone thrust the body away from me—“you need a little help, ClanSister.”

  I had never been so glad to see Snake Boy’s ugly face. “Hey, Os. Join the party.” I parried a side blow

  from another attacker, and braced myself against the corner of the quad as I slashed my tån across the

  furry being’s eyes.

  “I believe I was invited, too.” Nalek flanked me on the other side. “We should move away from the

  quad.”

  “No. As long as Kol is in there, I’m staying right here.”

  “Kol?” Nal tilted his head before punching a silver out with one huge fist. “Kol is dead.”

  I’d thought they’d come because they’d heard the news. “You came here just to help me?”

  Os rolled his eyes. “We wanted to hurt someone. You were our excuse. What say you about Kol?”

  Nal glanced up into the quad. “Mother of All Houses, he lives.” He grabbed a silver around the neck with

  one big arm and squeezed it like a vise. “You hear that, scum? My ClanBrother lives!”

  Something swooped down at me, and I barely parried a vicious sweep at my face before it took off. The