I turned away from the window to look at him. He looked terrible, with dark bruise-like marks under his eyes like an ink stain.
“Coffee’s on the counter,” I pointed out as I gestured toward it with my chin. “I went and got some while you were in the shower. Should be the temp you like it by now.”
Patrick shuffled over to the counter, and picked up the coffee. Well, “shuffled” probably wasn’t the right word, since the movement was unbelievably graceful. Even groggy, sleep-deprived, and before morning coffee, every movement he made was like the flowing, perfectly-controlled beauty of a samurai warrior.
He took a large swig of the coffee, and then looked at me. “What were you looking at?”
I froze. I needed to tell him, but there just never seemed to be a good time to say, I slept with your wife.
“Nothing really,” I lied as I avoided his eyes and took a swig of my own coffee.
“You know you don’t have to wait here with me, you can go grab a spot outside,” I offered as I leaned against the wall in one of the hallways that lead out to the courtyard, and slipped my hands into the pockets of my haori. I had insisted that Patrick stand with me as I waited for the ceremony procession because some part of me had secretly hoped that Nualla would show up, and they’d make up, and everything would be fine again. But as the minutes slipped by, that hope seemed more and more delusional. And now I felt guilty, because he looked unbelievably miserable.
“It’s okay, I really don’t want to be alone out—” he stopped abruptly, his breath catching.
I jerked my head quickly to where he was looking, and froze. Nualla was standing about fifteen feet in front of him, looking equally caught off guard. And they just stood there frozen, staring at each other for what seemed like a lifetime, and no one else seemed to notice. No one but me. And I was holding my breath. One, because I knew it was the first time they had seen each other since the day of the funeral. And two, because of what Nualla was wearing.
She was dressed in her normal style of formal kimono, and silver arius crown with its four bars curving outward like a silvery stag’s horns. But unlike every other time I had seen her in formal dress over the years, this time she was also wearing a deep, midnight-blue ceremonial uchikake kimono covered in embroidered silver eight-pointed stars. That, and the obi sash that hung from her waist, decorated with the symbol of our region—the silver lotus in blue water—were usually only worn by a female chancellarius. That, coupled with the fact that Alex was nowhere to be seen, just made me wonder just what the hell was going on.
I’m not sure how long the three of us just stood there not moving—not even breathing—but it was Nualla that broke away first, turning to answer something Loraly had just asked her. The blue and silver beads hanging from her crown, swaying and clattering against each other from the movement.
“That was harder than I thought it would be,” Patrick said in a whisper of breath.
I looked at him in confusion, and then I noticed the tension in his shoulders. I followed it down his arms to his hands that were clenched into fists at his side. A second later, a single drop of blood rolled across the edge of one of his hands, and dropped to the floor.
“I think I’m going to head outside,” he stated in a low voice so only I would hear.
I opened my mouth to say something when Brienne, Alex’s new secondary aide, stepped up next to us.
“Director Centrina, you’re going to follow after your brother in the procession line,” she said to me before turning to Patrick. “And Mr. Galathea, you are going to follow after Cellarius Loraly and Kyria Skye.”
“Excuse me?” Patrick said in a choked voice.
Brienne furrowed her brow in confusion. “I’m not sure which part of that was confusing, but—”
“It’s okay, Brienne. Don’t worry about it, I’ll explain it to him,” I said, jumping in quickly.
Brienne gave me a slightly apprehensive look, but with one short nod, she moved off to talk to the rest of the department directors.
I waited until she was out of earshot, and then I leaned in toward Patrick. “Okay, I’m an idiot and—”
“If you’re the one who’s getting a medal why am I ahead of you? Or hell, why am I even in the procession in the fucking first place?” Patrick said with clenched teeth, cutting me off.
I just looked at him for a moment. Sometimes it was really startling just how much he didn’t know about our world.
“When Draya…. When Nualla became the future Chancellarius of Karalia, you became the future chancellar.” I ran my hand back through my hair, and leaned a little closer to him, whispering the rest. “Which basically means you now outrank me, Roy, and pretty much everyone else in all of Karalia who isn’t a Galathea.”
“Oh,” Patrick said on a heavy breath. “So what you’re saying is, I have to walk in this procession whether I want to or not?”
“Unless you want everyone digging into your personal life more than they already are, then yeah, you do.”
NUALLA
As I walked out of The Embassy building and into the courtyard, the heavy ceremonial uchikake kimono dragging across the ground, it really sunk in that without Alex, I was all alone. Because even though Loraly was the cellarius, she actually held no real power, and thus walked behind me in the procession. I was now the future ruler of Karalia, and the realization of what that really meant was finally starting to settle in.
So many little girls dreamt of being a princess. They’d fantasize about the castles, and the pretty dresses, and the balls. But what it really meant to be a princess—to be the future ruler of a kingdom—was that one day, the fate of thousands of people would be placed in your hands. And failure would mean that people would die.
But I wasn’t quite there yet. Today I only had to make a speech. However, other than yelling at the former Grand Council, I hadn’t actually ever had to make a public speech of any kind. Not really. Not unless you counted the Oath. And so naturally, despite the fact that my head was held high, I felt a lot like I might throw up at any moment.
As I reached the steps leading up to the memorial platform, I paused. The formal kimono I was wearing was already down to the floor, but the ceremonial uchikake kimono extended back easily a good two feet. Swallowing hard, I lifted my foot up onto the first step, and then felt someone beside me. I looked over at Travis, and he looked back at me for a heartbeat before he offered me his arm. I wasn’t sure if it was protocol or not, but the uchikake kimono was unfamiliarly heavy, and I really didn’t want to accidentally step on it and fall flat on my face in front of everyone. So I took his arm, and we walked up the remaining steps together.
As we reached the top of the stone platform I broke away from Travis, and walked to the podium that had been placed in the center of it. I looked down at the tablet resting on the podium and swallowed hard, and then I looked out at the people—my people.
Roughly three thousand people had been invited to witness the award ceremony. And really, it didn’t sound like that big of a number until they were all staring at you. Waiting for you to say something profound and moving. Or at the very least not embarrass the frak out of them.
I took a deep breath, and then I looked out over the crowd to a point in the distance just over the farthest person’s head.
“There are those who pledge their lives to protect us. Those valiant few who daily make that bargain with the gods to place their lives on the scales. To offer up their lives in collateral for the lives of others. And sometimes those lives are claimed, and we lose those brave souls, and we honor them for their sacrifice. But they know when they get up each morning that death is the risk that stalks their waking hours. It is the contract—the bargain—they have made.
“But it is those who make this bargain in a heartbeat, who toss their lives onto the scales without prior notice,
that we honor with this pendant,” I said as I looked away from the crowd, and gestured to the pendant resting on a small blue velvet pillow on a pedestal next to me.
The Pendant of Valor—a physical embodiment of Karalia’s greatest honor—was a silver, eight-pointed, interlocking star pendant with a brilliant blue sapphire at its center attached to the bottom of a thick, royal-blue grosgrain ribbon. I could only remember it being awarded once in my life, and that had been when I was very little. It was an honor we didn’t just throw around like it was candy. It meant something.
I looked down at the pendant a heartbeat longer, and then I looked back up to the crowd. “When I found out who we would be honoring with this pendant today, I asked my father, Chancellarius Galathea, if I could have the very great privilege to recognize this valiant soul. And he graciously stepped down so I could have this honor.”
It was a complete lie, really. But only a select few knew I was performing this award ceremony because Alex was off gods-only-knows where.
“I can attest firsthand that no other is more deserving of this award than Director Travis Centrina. I was beside him when he walked out into those halls knowing that his own death was fairly certain. And I know that without his actions, many more names would be engraved on the stones behind us. And it is for this that we honor him today.”
I stepped over to the pedestal, and lifted the pendant from the pillow it had been resting on. And then I turned toward Travis, looking up into his eyes. “In recognition of the great sacrifice you were prepared to make in protection of the people of Karalia, and the countless lives you saved, we honor you with the Pendant of Valor, and the title of Viliyata.”
Travis looked at me a moment after my words drifted to silence, and then bowed his head. I lowered the pendant over his head, and didn’t release it until my fingers brushed against the fabric of his midnight blue haori, and he finally raised his eyes to look at me. There were so many unspoken words captured behind those eyes. So much that you could never explain to people. So much you would only truly understand if you had been there with us, walking through those bodies. And this stupid piece of metal, no matter how beautiful, would never be enough to make up for what he had been willing to sacrifice.
“By the power vested in me by She, Most Brightest in the Sky, I, Nualla Galathea, Arius of Karalia, name you, Travis Centrina, son of Joshua Centrina and Misaki Tashiro, Travis Centrina Viliyata,” I announced in as loud a voice as I could manage past the lump in my throat. And then I dropped slowly to my knees, and bowed my head. “May the gods reward your courage in this life, and the next.”
“From the stars we are born, and to the stars we must, one day, return,” the assembled crowd called out loudly in unison before the sound of three thousand people dropping to their knees filled the courtyard.
TRAVIS
I had thought standing up in front of a room full of hundreds of people to accept the position of director of the Department of Technical Research and Development had been anxiety-inducing enough. But I don’t think I had ever felt more uncomfortable in my entire life as I did when over three thousand people dropped to their knees, and bowed before me.
But it was Nualla dropping to her knees in front of me, in full chancellarius regalia, that really did a number on the already frantic beating of my heart. Because aside from this one honor, the chancellarius only bowed before one set of people. The gods. And as I stood there, stone still, waiting for them all to raise back to their feet, I wondered if everyone else who had received this honor had felt like a fraud. Or if it was just me.
Unidentified Species
Monday, November 5th
TRAVIS
“Director Travis Centrina Viliyata, director of the Department of Technical Research and Development,” KARA announced as I stood in the biometric scanner booth, watching the screen. The species section on screen flashed between Kalodaemon and Marked One before finally announcing error.
“Error, unidentified species,” KARA stated loudly.
“Dammit!” I cursed as I stomped back over to the computer.
I ran through the code again, but nothing—absolutely nothing—seemed to be wrong, and yet the scanner array seemed to be broken.
Because of The Embassy closure I had spent the last month working out of a rented office across the street from The Embassy, doing everything I could to complete the Kalo Automated Response Assistant program. Well, everything I could do without being able to access the actual KARA, because she was in said Embassy lab. Labs we couldn’t actually gain access to until today. So this was the first time I had been able to run the new biometric program I had designed through the scanner booth we had built shortly before the attack. All that work and the thing wasn’t even frakking working.
“What’s wrong?” my assistant Akiko asked as she came up and placed another cup of coffee on the table, removing the empty one.
“Oh, nothing. Just weeks worth of work down the drain,” I snapped sarcastically as I slumped down into my chair, and folded my arms across my chest. I had spent the last four hours trying to get the damn biometric scanner program to work, and now I was so frustrated I wanted to chuck the damn thing out the nearest window. Which would have been a real feat of skill considering the tech labs were in one of the sub-basements of The Embassy, and the thing basically looked like an eight-foot-tall silver gazebo.
“Huh?” Akiko asked, her eyebrows raising above her pair of thick-framed cat-eyed glasses with the slightest tinge of blue to the lenses. Akiko was the only daemon I had ever met who wore glasses. But then again, she was also the only one I knew who had nekkrothea, the rare genetic condition that rendered her unable to see our world in much the same way as Marked Ones.
“The biometric scanner is throwing back an error, and I have no frakking clue why,” I clarified as I picked up the coffee.
“What kind of error?” she asked as her black-blue eyes flicked toward the scanner booth.
“It can’t seem to— You know what, just go stand in the damn thing and see for yourself,” I said sourly before folding my arm across my chest, and taking a sip of the coffee.
Humoring me, Akiko walked over and stood in the center of the biometric scanner booth.
“Akiko Miyakawa, assistant to the Director of the Department of Technical Research and Development, Kalodaemon,” KARA announced.
I just gaped at the screen, my coffee cup halfway to my mouth. “Well of course now it works,” I said with an exasperated huff.
“What was it doing before?” Akiko asked as she walked out of the booth, and joined me next to the computer.
“It worked fine until it got to the species—” I stopped talking. The species section. The species section was having a hard time determining my species.
“Travis?” Akiko asked in a curious voice.
“Huh?” I replied, turning my head toward her.
“You didn’t finish.”
“Oh, um, ignore me, everything’s fine,” I said in the most reassuring voice I could manage as I turned back toward the computer, and pretended to be looking over the code.
Akiko looked at me suspiciously for a moment longer, but then continued on her rounds of the labs.
When she was far enough away I looked down at my hands. The virus. I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me earlier. The mutation had changed us—changed us to something other than Kalodaemon.
As nonchalantly as I could, I slipped on my ear-piece. “KARA, Call Kiskei Kirihara,” I instructed her.
The other line rang three times, and then Kiskei picked up. “Hello, Travis, what did you—?”
“We’ve got a problem,” I said quietly, cutting him off.
“What kind of problem?” Kiskei asked in an equally low voice with an edge to it.
“Uh…”
“Do I need to come down
to the tech labs?”
I looked around the labs, there were way too many people around for this conversation.
“Not such a good idea. I’ll meet you in your office,” I said quickly before tapping the button on the ear-piece to disconnect the call.
“So what’s going on, Travis?” Kiskei asked when I walked into his office.
“It’s, ah…the biometric scanner booth,” I replied in a startled voice, caught off guard. I was fairly certain that Kiskei didn’t spend a whole hell of a lot of time meeting with people, being that you had to walk past most of the labs in the Department of Medical Research and Development to actually get to his office. But still, he hadn’t needed to look up to know it was me that had entered his office.
“What, is it not working?” he asked, finally looking up from the screen on the desk in front of him. His black-blue eyes as serious as a knife’s blade.
“No, it’s working alright,” I replied, blowing out a long breath of air.
Kiskei narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Then what’s the problem?”
“It won’t identify anyone with the K1-2012 mutation as Kalodaemon.”
“Oh,” Kiskei said, his eyebrows shooting up. “That is a problem.”
“On the bright side, no Kakodaemon will ever get past that system,” I stated as I jabbed my thumb back in the direction of the door.
Kiskei stood and started pacing his office, his hand curled up against his mouth in thought. Pieces of his pitch-black hair spilling free from his ponytail each time he turned, so that when he stopped, they formed a dark forest on either side of his face. Reminding me once again that if anyone had ever looked like a ronin lost in the wrong era, it was Kiskei Kirihara.
The Other Side of Truth (The Marked Ones Trilogy Book 3) Page 7
