The Perfect Ten Boxed Set

by Dianna Love

  Zilya’s posture stiffened. Anger spiked her breathing. “First you want us to believe you are a genius of technology. Now you want me to believe you are not tek-nah-tee?”

  I had a feeling the less this girl talked to Tony, the better off the three of us would be. And if this conversation didn’t improve soon we’d face a bloody resolution. Forcing a calm in my voice I hoped would hide the worry squeezing my chest, I asked Mathias, “What’s it going to take to convince you we’re not whatever this tek person is? A strong ruler would be sure before jumping to conclusions.”

  His eyebrows tightened in a brief flinch at my subtle strike to his leadership skills, but he lifted his hand and all conversation paused. “Fine. You want a fair judgment, even though your kind is not acquainted with such practice? How did you travel here?”

  Tony jumped in, trying to be Mr. Helpful. “I can tell you that.”

  I bumped Tony’s leg with my foot, but he was undeterred. “Rayen here did some woo-woo with the computer and–”

  Callan broke in. “Computer?”

  Zilya froze.

  Mathias opened his mouth but said nothing.

  “Yeah, a computer. Never seen one?” Tony asked, his ego expanding by the second.

  Mathias cut in. “Does this computer have a name?”

  Tony made a half-laughing noise deep in his throat. “They all have names. Mac, Apple, IBM, Dell and a pile of others.”

  Once again, Mathias shared another of those looks with Callan that hinted of communicating, but I read this one to mean the mention of a computer had been significant. But if I tried to keep Tony quiet now Callan would think I had something to hide and I sensed he was the one we should worry about most.

  Addressing Tony once more, Zilya said, “You were explaining how you traveled here.”

  “Right. Where was I?” Tony’s eyes lit up again and he nodded in my direction. “So she sticks her hand into the computer screen and the next thing we know, bam, we’re sittin’ in some pod that spits us out where that nuclear crocodile climbed out of the ground.”

  “Pod?” Mathias frowned.

  “That thing that spins then vanishes.”

  “Ah, I see. You did travel to the sphere in a transender.” Mathias’s voice flattened, removing any hope of sympathy for Tony or me. “Take them to the isolation unit, Callan.”

  Callan waved his hand at us and ordered, “Follow me.”

  “You don’t believe him?” I asked Mathias, waving a hand at Tony.

  He cocked his head as though he thought my question strange. “Of course, I believe him. I’m sure he’s tek-nah-tee.”

  What had Tony said that ended all speculation on their part? I demanded, “But why?”

  Mathias spoke in the most matter of fact way. “Because tek-nah-tees are the only ones who can travel here voluntarily through the transenders. They are the only ones who can visit the sphere.”

  Tony sputtered a protest as he and Gabby were being herded toward the opening to the corridor.

  Callan turned to me, no mercy in that face.

  My hands were damp with a deep panic that our stay in this place had taken a disastrous turn. I made one last attempt to find out our future from Mathias. “What’s the isolation unit?”

  “Where we hold prisoners.”

  That might give us a chance to figure a way to escape. “How long will you keep us there?”

  “For a short time.”

  “Then what?”

  Thinking on that for a moment before answering, Mathias said, “I have not decided about you and the other girl.”

  Zilya finished the thought for him. “But that one–” She pointed at Tony. “–will be the first tek-nah-tee punished for the deaths of our children. He will pay with his life.”

  Tony’s face washed clean of color.

  Gabby’s mouth dropped open.

  I felt the same way, but unlike Tony or Gabby, I knew I could stop these people. I wouldn’t let them kill Tony.

  Mathias glared at Zilya, but didn’t counter her claim.

  Callan stepped toward me in a threatening move.

  I searched inside myself, calling upon the energy I’d experienced earlier, the power that could break these vines around my wrists and give me a fighting chance at getting all of us out of here alive.

  Nothing happened.

  Not even a flicker.

  CHAPTER 14

  Returning from the Isolation Unit, Callan padded down the walkway to Mathias’s private domain and paused at the door when he saw Etoi and Zilya.

  Some days, those two were almost as much trouble as the TecKnatis and so caught up in their conversation that neither heard him approach. How many times had he drilled them in training that to be unaware is to welcome death?

  Of course, a fully-grown prantheer hadn’t heard him sneak up on her lair last week either, but she’d been caring for her cubs. Not gossiping.

  Etoi worked on a basket of dried tullee pods for seasoning a stew and complained to Zilya, “The one who calls himself Tony is a TeK. He must die.”

  Zilya nodded. “Yes, I know.” She sat on a separate mat spinning katoni threads into a skein the weavers used to embellish the hems of gilded tunics.

  Poor use of labor. Left to Callan, he’d have everyone train to fight and build defenses when not gathering food or hunting. Decorating clothes was a foolish use of time when faced with survival. But Mathias had pointed out that the simple task of sewing allowed those too young to hunt or gather food alone to have a feeling of worth.

  That’s why Mathias made an excellent leader.

  But then there were those who felt that physical training was beneath their House level.

  And Etoi and Zilya were not little children who needed to be coddled to have a sense of worth.

  “Why does he still live?” Etoi’s focus stayed locked on the topic of the TeK captive with the tenacity of a dugurat latched onto a last meal.

  Zilya gave a dainty shrug. “I would use that Tony for croggle bait myself, but Mathias decides the fate of the prisoners.”

  “He is too soft. You should–”

  “But he is our leader. I can only advise, not force his hand if he chooses to ignore my counsel.”

  “You should be leader here.”

  Callan almost stepped inside to let Etoi know he’d heard her traitorous comment, but he wanted to hear Zilya’s reply.

  “I will always regret having you with me the night I was captured, but I have to admit that I am selfish enough to be glad for your company. I am fortunate to have a champion such as you, Etoi, but to challenge Mathias for his position would be foolish on my part.”

  Callan agreed, but didn’t hear the outrage in her response that he’d expect from a Gild female who should strike down impertinence against a leader, not preen under adulation.

  Zilya added, “Let’s finish here soon. I have much to worry over besides the prisoners.”

  Nodding her head in concession, Etoi still grumbled, “I just believe all TecKnati should be punished.”

  “As do I.”

  Callan could not listen to these two carry on any longer. No one had more reason than him to feel deep hatred for the TecKnati who had killed his twin brother, but Mathias was the eldest of the Governing House and had studied MystiK law since taking his first steps. His word was final and Callan would uphold the law here just as he would at home, even if it meant laying down his life to do so.

  He’d failed once. That wouldn’t happen again.

  Making himself heard as he stepped in, Callan asked, “Where is Mathias?”

  Zilya’s surprised gaze shot up to his, then she calmly returned to winding her thread. “Checking on our new child.”

  Callan called to Mathias, mind to mind. This is Callan. We need to talk.

  Mathias answered, I’m on my way to my chamber. Meet me there.

  Speaking out loud, Callan said, “For one so busy as you claim, I would think you’d have more to do than sew, Zilya.”
/>   She tensed at realizing he’d overheard her conversation.

  “What would you have her do?” Etoi argued in her usual surly tone. Her lack of respect knew no bounds.

  “You could both use more training.”

  Etoi leaped to her feet, hands fisted and shoulders tight. “You wish you had more warriors like me.”

  “If you’d train as hard as you gossip, then I’d agree.”

  Growling, she lunged at Callan who only lifted a hand. Etoi smacked against the invisible surface of his power and bounced back, yelping and rubbing her nose that now trickled with blood.

  He grinned. “You can put a bandage on your nose, but there’s no cure for stupidity. On the positive side, those who act without thinking will eventually clean up the gene pool.”

  “Must you?” Zilya asked Callan.

  “I did nothing except defend myself in the least painful way from someone who should take care whom she attacks.”

  Murder raged in Etoi’s eyes. “In this Sphere, you are not of Gild or Rubio level. You are not your brother, only a second son who is unfit to rule the Warrior House.”

  Zilya went very still, her eyes raised watching Callan.

  Etoi’s words sliced through him back and forth, cleaving his heart with each reminder that he’d failed to protect his twin brother’s back. Jornn should have been the next Warrior House ruler, but the TecKnati had murdered him. After torturing Jornn to the point of disembowelment, they’d cut a triangle where his heart had been and that was the last vision their mother had of her son’s body.

  Callan’s last memory of his closest friend in the world.

  But the TecKnati had not broken Callan and neither would some spiteful elite-Gild-wannabe like Etoi. He forced a smile to his lips and told her, “You’re right. I will not rule my House, but I never wanted to, where you will always lust after the life of a Gild female and the closest you will ever come is cleaning their hygiene facilities.”

  His strike slapped the arrogance off of her bitter face and silenced her. He pointed at the door. “Go.”

  Wisely, Zilya stood and pushed a bowl at Etoi as though she had made the decision for them to leave. “Meet me in my chambers.”

  Etoi gripped the woven bowl with fingers so tight they turned white at the knuckles, but she left without another word.

  Once Etoi was clearly out of earshot, Zilya whispered, “When did you realize you had that ability?”

  “Stopping Etoi with my hand?”“Yes.”

  “It’s new and not of any significant use yet.” Not that he’d let her know when any of his G’ortian gifts reached full potential. He could use those powers with fighting croggles if not for some defense mechanism the TeKs had put around the areas where the monsters lived.

  Stepping up next to Callan, Zilya said in a sultry voice, “I’m always willing to train. When will you be available for a private session?”

  Back home, men lost their wits when Zilya walked into a building. She was stunning and rare, and they all wanted her. Not me. He’d been interested, once, back when he was fifteen and before she’d been promised to his brother. Then Callan had investigated her as he would anyone who might have proven a threat at some point to his brother.

  Beneath the layers of Zilya’s beauty lay a deadly trap of deceit and a heart of ice. Sharing his opinion of Zilya with Jornn had caused an argument Callan didn’t want to remember. He told her, “I’ll let you know when I’m training grunts again.”

  Her eyes narrowed to angry slits. “Insulting me is dangerous.”

  “No, dangling you in front of a croggle is dangerous. Insulting you is rude.”

  “You can pretend the rules are different here, but nothing has changed at home.”

  Not having to deal with political issues at home was the only upside he’d found to being in this pit of death. “That’s there. This is here.”

  Her chin lifted and her eyes flared with warning. “When we return–”

  Mathias walked in. “Is there a problem?”

  “Of course not. I was just leaving.” Zilya’s face glowed with a smile for the one person she believed would push Callan to do her bidding even here.

  She was wrong.

  If no one else had been able to force Callan to take Jornn’s place as leader, what made her think she had any more power?

  Once Zilya left, Mathias faced Callan. “You should try to get along with her.”

  Callan held up his hand. “Please, no lectures on Zilya today.”

  The weary sigh that escaped Mathias spoke of long days and nights trying to keep a band of children alive. At the moment, that meant providing for over sixty MystiK children stolen from the Ten Cities of the K’ryan Renaissance. Many of whom were barely past nine years old. Callan didn’t envy him.

  Mathias moved on. “In that case, tell me what you couldn’t share about our captives when everyone was here.”

  “The girl with the long black hair who leads the trio is dangerous.” Pretty, too, but then Zilya proved that physical attractiveness meant very little when it came to character.

  “More dangerous than the TeK male?”

  “Yes. Have you decided she’s not TecKnati?” Callan didn’t think she was, but he’d reserve final judgment until he had all the information. The fact that she’d been found in the company of his enemy and defended that same TeK counted against her.

  “She doesn’t appear to be TeK. However, that doesn’t clear up who or what she is.” Mathias waved toward the far wall for them to sit in two ocean-blue chairs he’d carved from the base of chopped-down terrian trees. “I’ll have to ask V’ru, which reminds me. Would you spend some time with him?”

  “Train V’ru?” Callan didn’t even try to hide his shock.

  “No, just talk to him. He’s adjusting, but not as quickly as I’d hoped.”

  Words were not Callan’s strength. He didn’t know how to comfort anyone. “Can’t Zilya talk to him?”

  “V’ru likes Zilya, but he doesn’t look up to her. He idolizes you.”

  That made it even worse. Callan wanted no one idolizing him, but he owed a debt to V’ru who had given Callan valuable information that helped in investigating Jornn’s death. As a powerful G’ortian and a prodigy of the Records House, V’ru was better than any Cyberprocessor when it came to producing immediate information. And Callan wasn’t entirely sure that V’ru hadn’t been following him the night they were both captured. “I hate that he’s here.”

  “I understand, but we lost a lot of children before V’ru arrived. I was barely keeping this village alive on what little we’d figured out was edible through trial and error.”

  “I’m glad we have V’ru’s unlimited knowledge at hand, but he shouldn’t be here.”

  “No MystiK should. He’ll settle in.”

  Seemed like a good time to change the subject back to why Callan had stopped by. “You need to train.”

  Mathias groaned. “I’m proficient with the spear. That’s enough.”

  Not if Mathias intended to spend tonight in the woods alone, but Callan didn’t want to add to his leader’s worries by reminding him. “You missed the last two training sessions.”

  “I’ll make you a deal.”

  Now Callan groaned, sure of what was coming. He pushed up from the chair and stepped over to where two shoulder-high spears were stabbed in the ground next to the feather wall. When Mathias stood, Callan lifted a spear and tossed it at him. “Fine. We both train.”

  Mathias grinned and caught the weapon with one hand then moved to the center of the room. He began stretching, using the staff for support. “If I must train to fight croggles, you must train to fight SEOH.”

  Here came one of Mathias’s “leader” lessons.

  Callan crossed his arms and spread his feet apart, ready to work Mathias to the point of distraction. “If you say so. I’m ready to meet him on the battlefield.”

  “That you are, but as leader of all the TecKnati, SEOH will never fight fairly, or
on a physical battlefield.”

  “I have no intention of fighting fairly either. Not against someone who got away with killing three future MystiK leaders without sanction.” Jornn had been one of those. “Our treaty isn’t worth the spell that was cast on it.”

  Mathias paused from a contorted stretch and straightened. “Yes it is. The sanction worked just as the spell on the treaty was intended. At the moment each of those underaged MystiKs were murdered, SEOH and two other TeK dignitaries lost their seventeen-year-old sons. An eye for an eye. A future leader for a future leader.”

  “But no one knows that’s why those TeKs died. You want to know what really chafes my hide? The whole thing got covered up.”

  “I’ll admit that SEOH is a genius when it comes to battle strategy.”

  Callan scowled at Mathias. “How can you praise him?”

  “Do not misunderstand me. I do not praise him, but you were the one who taught me to thoroughly evaluate an enemy. I am only doing that.”

  “I said to look for an enemy’s weak spot, because they always have one. Never underestimate an opponent.”

  Mathias nodded as he began moving through exercises while Callan gave hand signals of different attack and defense positions. Shove straight out, pull back to his chest, then a half spin to the right, another shove, a half spin left. Mathias said, “SEOH is a sociopath, and a clever one. My point was that he ran a brilliant damage control campaign to camouflage the deaths of the three TeK children who appeared to have collapsed from asphyxiation. Easy to accomplish with the technology at his fingertips.”

  “Only because idiots believed his lies,” Callan ground out, disgusted. “I couldn’t believe that even MystiKs bought into SEOH’s claim.” Callan dropped his voice to emulate SEOH’s from the black-ban vid and struck a politician’s pose with a hand over his chest. “Our planet has experienced a rare phenomenon.”

  Mathias snorted at the imitation. “Maybe we need a vid player as a ruler.”

  “That’s the problem. Our citizens are lazy sheep. They accept anything spoken through a microphone or seen on a vid screen as truth.”

  “I concur, but no average person will dispute SEOH’s statements when his claims are backed up by scientists.”