by T. A. White
Kira’s uncle was a hard man. Formed by sorrow, hardened by battle. Everything Harlow was, everything he'd become, had been forged during the events of the Sorrowing when the previous Overlord—Harlow’s younger twin brother—and his wife had been murdered, their daughter and countless other children of House Roake stolen.
Harlow had inherited a wreckage of a House, taken it and forced it to hold against all who would have tried to usurp it.
He had no primus form, but he'd managed to turn that into a strength. Graydon knew of no other who was as deadly as Harlow.
The current Overlord’s example was a lesson Graydon had taken to heart. It didn't matter what skills or talents you had been born with if you didn't make the most of them, surpassing the limits others placed on you.
Kira reminded Graydon of Harlow in many ways. She contained that same force of personality. She didn’t let anything hold her back when she had set her sights on something. Perhaps that was why he had been drawn to her from the beginning.
"Little Storm, you've grown well," Indya said softly as Graydon moved past the oshota, pushing open the door.
As he had every time Graydon had entered this room, Harlow sat in a position of power behind his desk, studying the polymer screen that had dozens of streams of data scrawling across it. Some were live holovids, others stats or memos.
Harlow didn't bother looking up as Graydon entered. "You've come to take me to task."
Graydon shut the door behind him, careful not to slam it. "I'm simply here to ask why."
Harlow swiped a hand over the desk, dismissing the data and leaving the façade of ancient wood, nicked and scarred by time.
The Overlord settled in his chair, leveling that predator's stare on Graydon. The weight of thousands of years came to bear as Harlow dropped the reins on his control, letting Graydon feel the full might of his personality and power.
Graydon held firm. It might have been years since he'd experienced this, but even now the tiny hairs on his neck stood up, warning him of danger.
He ignored them with the ease of long practice, advancing across the room with a lazy stroll before slouching into a chair in front of Harlow's desk.
When he'd been under Harlow's command, he never would have dared. Everyone knew the chairs were a lure for the unwary. Sit in them without an invitation, and you would face repercussions.
Graydon gave Harlow a toothy smile as he lounged with deceptive ease. "The Trek of the Weary. Really? That is an old test even by House Roake's standards. I don't even remember the last time it was used."
It certainly hadn't been in Graydon's day.
The Trek of the Weary took its name from the beginning of the Tuann Empire's history, at a time when they had fled their first home world. It was said that their ancestors had crashed on a harsh world and had to walk hundreds of miles to find sanctuary. The journey had taxed the Tuann in ways they'd never experienced before. They could only take what they could carry. Anything they set aside was left behind.
It was said in their history books that was how the first affinities were decided. Pushed to the brink, barely able to survive, those first Tuann had unlocked the potential within. Helped in part by having no other choice.
The trek Kira was even now walking was meant to simulate a small part of what those first Tuann had gone through. The path was deceptive and meant to test an individual's perseverance and will power.
He did not envy her or the rest their journey.
“Why not simply greet her the way I know you want to? Why force her to make this decision now?” Graydon asked, genuinely at a loss.
"She's not one of us. You and Silas have made it clear she doesn't see her future in this House. She's already shown she responds well to challenge and adversity. I'm simply giving her the fuel she needs to succeed," Harlow said.
"You intend to trick her into accepting a place among Roake." Graydon knew his mentor well. The man did devious better than any other Tuann he knew except for the emperor. It was only luck that both men had a code of honor that was bedrock deep and had never found themselves on opposing sides.
"You, better than anyone, know what she faces here. There are those who will point to her beginnings and call her unworthy. By forcing her to prove her worth now, I remove many barriers she will face later," Harlow said.
"Are you sure that's what this is?" Graydon asked.
Harlow regarded him steadily.
Graydon shook his head. His mentor had always been stubborn. "Kira doesn't respond well to manipulation. If you're not careful, you'll make it so she hates you before the end."
She had been magnificent when routing the human admiral's agenda. She might not have wanted to cut ties, but she'd been willing and ready to when it became obvious they planned to use her status against her.
She'd done what she felt necessary to retain what she perceived as freedom. It proved the extent she'd go to when backed into a corner. Kira wasn't the type to surrender gracefully.
Harlow didn't seem surprised. "Her father was the same."
Harlow had worshiped Harding. The former Overlord had never had to worry about whether his minutes-older twin brother would come for his title because Harlow's loyalty, once given, was unbreakable. He’d been vicious when it came to Harding's safety.
"Then why test her?" Graydon asked.
He had no doubt that Harlow’s loyalty extended to Harding's daughter. Otherwise, Graydon never would have manipulated events to bring her here.
Harlow’s gaze was distant as he stared out the narrow window to the sea outside. "This way, she will live through anything. I need her to be able to survive. I won’t lose another member of my family."
So that was what this was about.
The Sorrowing had changed all of them. In some ways, House Roake had never been stronger than it was today. They were small but fierce. Every member had some defensive training. It didn't matter their age or station, or what their affinity was. If you were of this House, you could fight.
It was the first of Harlow's many changes. He'd decided House Roake wouldn't be reliant on a handful for their safety. They would stand or fall together.
However, it had also made them reclusive and obsessive when it came to their safety. Harlow, as the Overlord, probably experienced those qualities to a greater extent.
By doing this he was ensuring Kira’s future safety in the best way he knew how, even if it affected his current relationship with his niece.
“You know you won’t be able to have much contact with her before she passes the uhva na,” Graydon finally said. “There can be no evidence of favoritism from you.”
Harlow’s lips curved up the faintest bit as he leaned back. “I am aware.”
Graydon watched him for several seconds. There was something more to this.
"What do you know that I don't?" Graydon finally asked. Because there was no doubt there was something. Harlow was too controlled to let fear sway him, and this action stunk of desperation.
Harlow tapped the desk and swiped his finger across it. A hologram formed above it.
Graydon sat forward. "Are those Tsavitee?"
"Two of their ships slipped through when the Luathan net went down. A third ship, origin unknown, also made it through. We lost track of them shortly afterward."
Graydon stood in an explosive movement, pacing to the window and staring at the sea.
That damnable net. Luatha's defenses protected the outer perimeter of Tuann space. With it down, the three ships had found it easy to slip into Tuann territory.
Tuann space was vast. In addition to the main Houses, there were hundreds of smaller Houses, many of which would have holdings on other planets.
None communicated well with the rest. The labyrinthian maze of feuds and alliances would make it difficult to track the ships. Each House protected its own territory and would be loath to admit an incursion.
It had been thousands of years since the Tuann had last united against a common threat.
Even with the emperor’s power to compel cooperation, it would take weeks, if not months, of sifting through the data to track the ships across the different territories. By then, the Tsavitee would have accomplished their mission.
"This is what the invasion was about," Graydon said, his mind already working.
It hadn't been about Luatha at all. It had been a feint, meant to distract them from the next prong of attack. Their real intention was to insert a few of their agents into Tuann territory.
"This enemy has proven unexpectedly cunning," Harlow rumbled. "Much more so than we had previously predicted.”
"Do we know what they want yet?" Already Graydon's plans were shifting to take into account this new information.
Harlow shook his head. "Only time will show their true goal. I suspect my niece will play a role in the events to come."
Graydon gave him a sharp look. Harlow's assessment was accurate and fit with Graydon's perception.
The Tsavitee had shown a continued fascination with Kira. From what he'd picked up through conversations with her and his observations during the invasion, the two were connected. It was clear the Tsavitee wanted something from her. They either saw her as a weapon to be reacquired or a threat to be eliminated.
Either way, staying close to her would likely bring the Tsavitee plans to light.
"Kira isn't weak. She might not be an oshota, but her skills put her on par with them. She outran Baran in their human station. I have no doubt she would have escaped if the humans hadn't intervened," Graydon said.
"You sound admiring."
Graydon let a thin smirk play along his lips. His old mentor wasn't going to get any heartfelt revelations out of him.
"She took out a Tsavitee war drone in a simulation within thirty seconds. She can hold her own against nearly all of my oshota," Graydon finished.
To say nothing of the lower form Tsavitee she'd cut a bloody path through during the battle in the Nexus.
Kira might not have been raised Tuann. She might be weakened from her ki poisoning and lack of training, but underestimating her would be a mistake. She was a force in her own right.
"Has the Little Storm found his calm at last?"
"Would you object if I had?"
That canny old gaze was assessing. The corners of Harlow's lips tilted up. The only expression on the otherwise somber face.
That's what Graydon thought.
Harlow thought he needed to save Kira, but from what Graydon had seen, she rarely needed saving. It would be best if Harlow learned that sooner rather than later.
"What is your assessment of my niece?"
Graydon considered his words carefully. "She's strong. Stubborn. In that, she's exactly like both her parents. She has a strong martyr complex. She'll sacrifice herself for her humans without a thought."
"Loyal to a level that can be a detriment to herself."
Graydon grunted an assent. "I'm not sure what happened in the human's war with the Tsavitee, but it's marked her. I get the sense from her friends she disappeared for a time and is only now reintegrating."
"We're not built for solitude," Harlow murmured.
No, they weren't. The Tuann relied on social bonds, needing a connection with others, both mentally and physically. It's why they lived in Houses. Without those bonds, they withered and faded.
When others learned of the years she'd spent with only a drone for company, they'd point to it as evidence of a sickness of the mind.
Only the wanderers roved alone. Most were thought to be slightly insane as a result.
Graydon made to stand. "Now that I’ve returned, my duties to the emperor will take priority."
Harlow reached for a small disk, no bigger than a fingernail, and handed it to Graydon. "About that, this came for you."
Graydon frowned, taking the disk. It carried the insignia of the emperor, marking it as an official message. While it would look like an ornate coin to some, heavy and solid in the hand, it was anything but.
Encoded to Graydon's DNA and ki, it would open for no one but him. He pressed a finger to the top, unsurprised when the faint halo of the emperor's emblem flashed.
The message unlocked; he pressed the coin against a slot on the forearm of his suit. The emperor's message scrolled across his arm.
Graydon felt surprise spark through him at the information contained within.
"Interesting news?" Harlow asked, arching an eyebrow.
"When were you going to tell me the emperor's son was among the initiates?" Graydon asked.
"I believe I just did."
Graydon fought a growl. He'd forgotten how much Harlow liked intrigue. The disk on his arm drained of color, black spreading through it until it was no more than a lump of carbon again.
Graydon removed the disk from his arm and tossed it on the desk. “The emperor won’t want his son’s stay here advertised.”
Harlow had likely guessed that, but it bore repeating. The boy’s life couldn’t be left to chance.
Harlow sat back, resting an elbow on the arm of his chair. “Given what happened to the boy’s older brother during the Sorrowing, I can’t blame him. The emperor has kept his youngest and only remaining child close to him—done everything in his power to safeguard his wellbeing, including limiting those who’ve met him or even seen his face.”
Graydon waited, knowing Harlow wasn’t finished.
Harlow speared him with a matter of fact look. “It’s not possible to keep his presence here a total secret. There are those in my House who will recognize him, despite the emperor’s precautions.”
Graydon waved Harlow’s concerns away. “He understands that and even expects it. This isn’t meant to hide him entirely. It’ll be enough if his presence here doesn’t become common knowledge.”
Harlow smiled. “That I can guarantee. It would do us no good to draw notice from the other Houses.”
“Good.” Graydon stood and prepared to leave.
“I’m going to assume this changes your plans.”
Graydon stopped and aimed a toothy smile at his former mentor. “You would be right. I think perhaps I should stay close, after all. See for myself how the initiates’ training is progressing."
Harlow leaned his chin on his fist. "That might be best."
*
"Couldn't have picked the easy way," Kira muttered to herself as she leaned against the wall and stared at the infinite stairs ahead. "No, you had to do things the hard way—as usual."
She'd thought this was the last landing. Not so much.
"When will you learn?"
She peered down the steps she'd traversed over the last several hours. Another person's spirit might have broken at the latest false summit.
"Not me, though. No, I'm too stubborn for that," Kira griped, setting one foot on the next step.
The Tuann and their stupid games. She was tired. Her body hurt. The headache she'd had since shortly after stepping through the gates increased with every step.
She yearned for Graydon's presence. Pushing him off a cliff would have gone a long way to improving her mood right about now.
She blamed him for this. If not for his maneuvering, she'd be sleeping in her bunk on a ship somewhere. Not testing her limits on a climb that felt like it would never end.
The bag she carried pulled at her arm. She paused, switching it her other shoulder before resuming her trek. One stair by laborious stair.
Kira glared at the bag in question, cursing the urge that had caused her to take it from Raider. She still wasn't fully recovered from her last fight, and carrying something that seemed to get heavier and heavier as time went past was severely taxing her resources.
She would have gladly left him to it if she hadn't been afraid the Tuann would search the bag when Raider reached the top.
"How are there so many damn stairs?" she grumbled.
There hadn't looked to be this many from the bottom. Nowhere close to this many.
It was like the air itself resist
ed, dragging on the bag and her body. A weight clasped her tight, pressing harder with every step forward until it felt like she was moving against a constant current that only grew in strength the farther up she went.
The other initiates had long since abandoned the vertical paths they'd started with, each making their way to the stairs. More than a handful had already quit, forcing Roake's oshota to recover them and escort them to safety via a dunking in the ocean below.
Kira's progress slowed as a thought occurred to her. It was possible this was not what it appeared. The Tuann had already proven they were masters of technology far beyond what humans could even grasp. To a level that shared a close resemblance to magic.
Perhaps this staircase that marched up a never-ending cliff didn't really exist. It could be an illusion meant to test her fortitude and willpower.
Kira made a face. Of course. That made sense. If she was training a group of warriors, she'd likely do something similar. Hell, she had done something similar to anyone looking to join the Curs.
You couldn't be part of an elite force unless you were the master of your own self. A person who could rise above their physical limits when the time came.
This was a gut check. Pure and simple. A way of seeing who would allow something as measly as a staircase to get in the way of their goal.
It made perfect sense.
The pain from the headache surged until it felt like a vise had ahold of her head. She made a small sound of pain as she staggered into the side of the cliff. She used the stone as a crutch. Mustn't sit down.
The marshal's warning had been clear. Sit down, and you're out. Set anything down and lose it.
She'd come too far to do either now. It might be a silly test, but she hated failing.
Call it stubbornness. Call it pride. She had no intention of losing here. Not to stairs. Not to her own body.
The pain increased.
"Son of a banter bot. I really should have made different life choices," Kira said through gritted teeth, her vision nearly gone.
Below, a bright mind snapped into shape. Rushing, rushing. Closer and closer.
A large form speared up from the deeps. Water sprayed off it, drenching Kira, so close she felt she could reach out and touch the serpentine body.