by T. A. White
“They help our ki flow into the form we want it to take,” Elodie explained.
“Visualization is the starting point of any use of ki. We’re taught the kattas to give us a form through which the ki can flow.” Quillon’s fingers flicked and a shield formed around him. “It’s possible to force your soul’s breath into the form you want without it, but it’s much more difficult.”
“The kattas make things easier,” Finn said.
“How do they work and where do they come from?” Kira asked.
Elodie shrugged. “I’m sure the theorists could give you an explanation. Most of us simply learn the forms. As to where they came from, that’s a history lesson for another day.”
Kira stepped closer to the table. “And you think this will help me?”
Elodie lifted a shoulder. “I think it will give you more information. That’s what you’re here for, right?”
She wasn’t wrong.
Elodie gestured at the table. “Hold your hand over the stones.”
Kira complied, feeling a little foolish.
“Now, concentrate on which of these call to you,” Elodie said. “Feel the soul’s breath moving through you.”
There was only one problem with that. The inhibitor was supposed to prevent her from touching her ki.
How could she feel it when there was a glass wall between it and her?
Kira held her hand above the table, but like at Luatha, she didn’t feel pulled in any one direction.
Her hand started to drop when a small feeling rippled through her. She hesitated, her eyes pulled to a sapphire stone, one dwarfed by the rest.
She picked the stone up. “What does this one mean?”
Elodie frowned and took it from Kira. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone pull this one before. Quillon?”
His gaze lifted from the stone to Kira’s, his expression neutral. “It denotes a rare affinity, one that is not much seen anymore.”
Kira waited, hoping he’d expand.
His forehead creased, and he gave a slight shake of his hand. “I’m afraid the test will be inconclusive with the inhibitor still on. Any results you get are likely to be faulty.”
Elodie’s expression dropped as disappointment crossed her face. “I should have considered that. Sorry, Kira; I wasn’t thinking.”
Kira rolled the stone in her hand, the odd attachment she’d had to it fading. “I learned something, and that was what I came for.”
She set the stone on the table. She still had questions, but after Elodie had gone to so much trouble, she didn’t feel right about asking the healer to leave again.
She’d have to wait until next time.
“How about I see you out?” Quillon offered. He stepped aside and gestured for the door.
Kira stepped toward it then hesitated. “Thank you, Elodie. You were very helpful.”
Elodie’s head lifted, her expression momentarily surprised before pleasure washed through her expression.
Kira dipped her chin before heading out of the room, Quillon keeping pace beside her as Finn trailed them.
They walked for several minutes in silence before Quillon spoke. “I sense there was more you wanted to ask, but that you wanted privacy for it.”
Kira slid him a hard look. “How observant of you.”
His lips lifted the barest bit in a faint smile. “I have my moments.”
They walked several more feet before Kira lifted the wrist with the inhibitor. “This is supposed to block my ki, yet I was able to create a small shield. Why?”
If something was wrong with her treatments, she needed to know—even if it was bad news. Especially if it was bad news.
If her gamble of coming here didn’t work, she’d need to make other arrangements. Put into motion plans that would see that Jin and others were taken care of if her disease ran its course.
Quillon’s head tilted. “You misunderstand the inhibitor's purpose. Yes, it is to block your ki to give you a chance to heal, but as your channels strengthen, so will your access to your soul’s breath.”
Kira stopped and faced him. “What does that mean?”
Patience filled Quillon’s expression. “It means you’re healing. The ki poisoning is slowly reversing. The stronger your channels get, the more of the soul’s breath you will be able to access.”
Kira’s breath stuttered in her chest, a desperate hope fluttering through her.
“You still have a long way to go, but this is a positive step,” Quillon explained.
Kira started moving again, her thoughts churning. As welcome as Quillon’s words were, it didn’t change the fact that the inhibitor was a glaring weakness.
“I need to know how to get it off in the case of an emergency.”
Quillon blinked at her. “Absolutely not. You’ll undo all the progress you’ve made.”
Kira scowled at him. “Progress that will be meaningless if I die first.”
This time it was Quillon who stopped. “If you’d known how to remove the inhibitor when facing Devon, you would have, and you’d be in the same state you’d arrived in, only worse. I won’t help you commit suicide.”
Kira struggled with patience, knowing the oshota healer was doing what he felt was best for his patient.
His face softened. “You found a way to win even without your ki. You wouldn’t have if you’d been able to take the easy way out.”
“Next time, I might not get the chance,” Kira pointed out.
The universe was a dangerous place. Being on Ta Sa’Riel didn’t change that. If anything, it probably placed her in more danger because she was unfamiliar with the culture and customs. Who knew when she would trespass against someone she shouldn’t have?
Quillon raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “There’s an easy solution to that.”
Kira raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“Don’t go running headlong into danger.”
Kira’s frown was dark as he straightened with a small smile.
He tilted his head toward Finn. “That’s what your oshota is for. It would be best to leave the heroics to him. For now, anyway.”
Finn snorted quietly but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to; it was clear he didn’t hold much hope of that happening.
Yeah, Kira didn’t either.
FOURTEEN
Hands clasped over her stomach, Kira watched clouds pregnant with rain drift over the spot she'd chosen for her afternoon nap. Hard shingles weren't the most comfortable of beds, but the smell of salt and ocean and the chance to be outside made up for the discomfort.
The steady drone of young Tuann learning what it meant to be Roake kept Kira company.
It had been several days since the incident with the primus. Quillon had been serious about her taking it easy.
He'd put his foot down, forbidding her from any physical activity. Surprisingly, Wren had agreed, making it clear that if he caught wind of her not following the oshota healer’s orders she could pack her bags and go.
Her time as an initiate would be done. Her path to the uhva na closed—perhaps permanently.
Finn's near-constant presence made testing the ultimatum impossible. Since the incident, he'd been more overprotective than ever. To the point she wasn't sure he was even sleeping. More than once, she'd opened her door in the middle of the night to find him standing in front of it, practically daring her to try to sneak past.
She might have taken him up on the unvoiced challenge if she hadn’t also agreed with Quillon's restrictions. Her body needed rest. The wise thing to do was to let it.
It wouldn't be long now before she could resume training anyway. Her mind might still expect to see wounds when she looked at her arms and torso, but all evidence of her standoff with the drones had healed. The welts fading as strength flooded into her muscles.
"I finally caught you Ms. Shammer Mcshammerson of the Summerset Shammertons," Blue called.
Kira looked up, finding the woman leaning out of a window from one
of the towers overlooking her napping spot.
Blue didn't wait for Kira to reply, disappearing only to reappear moments later as she backed carefully out of the window. She descended the ten feet to the roof before picking her way over to where Kira rested.
"I've never heard that version," Kira observed as Blue collapsed beside her, spreading her arms and legs out in an impression of an oversized starfish.
"Made it up myself," Blue admitted, her eyes closed as she smiled up at the sky. "Thought it had a certain cachet."
It was certainly creative.
Kira didn't think she'd ever heard such an official title attributed to the time-honored tradition of soldiers going out of their way to avoid work.
Shammer. Skater. Sandbagger. Kira had heard many in the course of her time in the military. Sometimes the names were said with derision, other times envy. You couldn't help but admire some of the more creative ways people chose to evade work.
"I see you haven't managed to lose your shadow yet," Blue said, cracking an eyelid and glancing to where Finn scanned the area for threats.
"Despite my best efforts."
Blue propped herself up on her elbows, looking around with interest. "How did you manage to land such a sweet gig while the rest of us are being run ragged?"
One side of Kira's mouth tilted up lazily. "You too can have this. All you need to do is go a thousand rounds with about a million drones."
Blue grimaced. "No, thanks."
Kira snickered, not blaming Blue. Kira would rather have bowed out too.
"Training is that rough?" Kira asked.
Blue groaned, flopping to the shingle. "I don't know who is worse. Wren or Maida. They're relentless."
Blue popped up, her gaze wide and indignant. "Last night, I fell asleep in the middle of reconstructing a grav hook. Me! I never do that."
Kira couldn't help the chuckle. "Are they worse than me?"
Blue looked away, grumbling. "That was different. You were trying to prepare me for war in the event I ended up in the thick of things."
Kira arched an eyebrow wryly. "If you're better for the experience afterward, I'd say the momentary discomfort is worth it."
Blue's agreement was grudging as she sat up, wrapping her arms around her legs and looking out at sea. Distance crept into Blue's gaze as silence fell between them.
Kira waited patiently, figuring Blue would reveal the reason she'd sought Kira out eventually.
Kira was content to let the simple peace of lying there fill her. This was nice. She didn't often let herself exist in the moment, and she found it more restorative than a thousand treatments with Quillon.
"This place is interesting, isn't it?" Blue asked, pulling Kira out of the beginnings of her doze.
"How so?"
Blue considered it. "Their technology outstrips ours in a way I can barely fathom. In many ways, it's so advanced it resembles magic."
"That's not new," Kira pointed out. "The Haldeel are like that too."
Blue nodded. "You're right. Yet unlike the Haldeel, their society shares similarities to a feudal one with a warrior class and an almost military-like hierarchy. One might even say an oshota's duties resembles that of the knights of medieval Europe or the samurai of feudal Japan. The Overlords only answer to the emperor, and I'm not even sure he controls them."
Blue paused, her expression puzzled as she considered the different implications of such a conclusion.
Kira let her think. This was how Blue worked. She bounced her ideas off others, learning and adjusting based on their responses. Once, she'd done this regularly with Kira every time she had a problem she couldn't solve.
It was nostalgic being in this position again.
"Each House exists within an intricate network of alliances and grudges. The very fact that they have no homogeneous identity should make them chaotic and disorganized, almost unheard of in a society as advanced as theirs obviously is," Blue continued.
Kira suspected she could guess why. Graydon's revelation in the Hall of Ancestors provided answers Blue had no way of obtaining from her position as an outsider. Unfortunately, Kira couldn't give them to her, not until she understood for herself the full ramifications such knowledge would have.
"Then there's humanity's history," Blue trailed off.
"What are you talking about?"
"Myth and legend have long been how humans made sense of the world," Blue pondered. "Most are nonsense, their origins lost in history, but where there is fiction there is often a seed of truth hidden within. When you take these stories and then see certain patterns emerge across many cultures who would have had no opportunity to interact, it makes you question certain things."
Kira tried to follow what Blue was saying. "You're going to have to break this down, because I'm not following."
"What if the reason humans have so many different stories about strange, mythological creatures is because the inspiration for those creatures once visited Earth."
Kira sent her an unconvinced look. "You think the Tuann visited ancient Earth."
Blue’s excitement brimmed in her expression. "Why not? They have the technology for it. In Germanic mythology, elves were said to have pathways to other worlds. We’ve seen something very like that already. Who is to say the Tuann never used their world gates to visit? It would explain why we've seen human symbols here and why they're so dismissive of us as a race."
Kira's mouth opened in preparation for shooting Blue's theory down. She paused when she caught Finn looking at them with something approaching alarm.
His expression smoothed into one of hard implacability in the next instant, leaving Kira questioning whether she had seen what she thought she had.
She shook herself, bringing her attention to Blue who hadn't noticed Kira’s distraction.
"You're saying you think the wizards are the basis for myths of elves and fairies and the like," Kira guessed.
Blue nearly buzzed with enthusiasm. "I do. I think their history with humans goes back much further than anyone has guessed."
Kira hummed. "The Tuann are an ancient race, I suppose it's not outside the realm of possibility."
Kira rubbed a finger along her chin. Her knowledge of mythology was shaky. Such matters hadn't seemed as important as ones that might directly affect her survival. Kira seemed to remember stories of monstrous creatures whose only desire was to prey on humanity.
Take Blue's theory one step further and consider the Tsavitee. A race humans often compared to the demons of one of their main religions.
Perhaps the Tuann weren't the only ones who'd visited past Earth.
It opened up a whole world of possibilities that no one had likely considered.
"If you think about it, it makes sense," Blue pressed, her words passionate. "They could have come to Earth and stayed long enough to leave some of their influence behind."
"For what purpose? Why not conquer us?" Humanity, at that point in history, would have still been slinging rocks and sticks at each other. They wouldn't have put up much of a fight.
"I don't know," Blue confessed. "And we never will if we don't ask the questions."
Kira shook her head. So that's what this was about. As interesting as Blue's theory was, its real purpose wasn't determining if the Tuann had once visited Earth. All she wanted was an excuse to get closer to the world gate's technology.
Blue was a good soldier. Smart. Dedicated. She contained a curiosity that far surpassed most. She had a genius-level intellect and could extrapolate concepts Kira could never dream of. Once she got her teeth into something, it was damn hard getting her to leave it.
Kira had forgotten how much Blue tended to fixate.
She'd do anything—justify anything—if it served her purpose.
Kira sat up, dusting off her arms, and shook her head, unable to hide her disappointment. "A thousand different things on this planet, and you're focused on the one thing they've refused you.”
Blue leaned forward. "Do you kno
w what a gate like that could do for us if the Tsavitee come back? Forget ships. We could be anywhere nearly instantly. Entire planets evacuated before they even hit the atmosphere. The ability to send reinforcements without worrying they'll be shot down before they ever touch down."
"So now you don't want just one gate; you want many," Kira observed.
"Why are you fighting me on this?" Blue asked, sounding exasperated. "You, more than anyone, understand what we're up against.”
"I could ask you why you’re fighting so hard for this," Kira shot back.
The Cur closed her mouth mutinously.
It wasn't hard to guess. Blue was here to absorb as much information about Tuann technology as she could. This joint training operation was another name for spying.
Kira was okay with that. She'd been prepared for it.
What the Tuann didn't understand was that humanity was at a constant disadvantage. They were the underdog of the galactic stage. It meant they sometimes had to get creative.
Kira had written a book full of tactics exactly like this one.
What she had a problem with was when they pushed beyond the set boundaries. When they ignored common sense and common decency in their pursuit of progress at all costs.
She'd seen too many victims strewn on that path. Been the victim one too many times to somebody else's ambition. It hurt to see Blue espousing those same ideals.
"It's easy for you to say that," Blue accused. "You're not the one who is going to be on the front lines of the next war. You've made that quite clear."
Kira ignored the lance of pain Blue's words caused. "So now I'm the villain. Because I won't give you what you want?"
Blue's gaze dropped, but not before Kira caught the flash of defiance.
"Tell me, Friend." The last word held a vicious bite. "How many wars must I fight for you? How many friends do I have to lose before you consider it enough?"
Blue didn't answer. An angry scoff escaped Kira as she rubbed her forehead.
"I can guess your reason for being here, but why Raider?"
Blue's jaw worked. "You're smart. I'm sure you can figure it out if you try. You always were good at knowing a person's motivations."
There was bitterness in her words.