by K. F. Breene
“I’m sure you can share the post, Lucius, but you’d need to choose. You can’t be an army man and her man at the same time.” Cayan stopped himself from putting his hands in his pockets. Losing his friend to someone else, regardless of whom, would kill him. But Cayan would not stand in the man’s way. Lucius needed to decide his fate, and Cayan could see the allure of staying with Shanti. She was the pivot around which this whole war revolved—she would always be in the action, and Lucius craved excitement.
There were so many things in the air right now, so many elements drifting. Danger was coming at them from all sides and the possibility of survival was dwindling into no hope. Cayan suddenly knew how Shanti felt.
* * *
“I told you!” Leilius shouted as he shoved Xavier. “See? Now who’s hallucinating? I told you I saw S’am last night. I told you!”
Marc watched as the color drained from Xavier’s face and his mouth dropped open. Marc followed Xavier’s stare then stopped dead.
“Holy shit, I don’t believe it,” Rachie said.
Leilius was right—there she was. Marc blinked and shook his head, but when he looked again, she was still there. Shanti stood dressed in a horrible pink pantsuit with dried blood on her chin and blond hair run through with black streaks. She looked thinner, but that could’ve been the weird clothes she was wearing. There was no doubting those striking features. Even from there, he knew those violet eyes. She stood with a man taller than her but with similar features and white-blond hair. He moved with the same grace. Dangerous. Marc wouldn’t even be able to lift a sword against him, he’d just run away. As fast as possible.
“She found a friend,” Gracas, the youngest of them, muttered. “And he’s a head-turner.”
“What, are you into guys now?” Rachie asked.
Gracas punched him. “No, you dick. I’m sizing up the competition. I bet he gets all the ladies.”
“How would that affect you, idiot?” Rachie retorted. “You can’t get girls now: what will change if he’s hanging around?”
“Actually…” A smile soaked up Rachie’s features. He started nodding slowly. “Actually, no, this could work. The girls will get turned down by him—because he won’t have time for all of them—and then they’ll have no choice but to go for me.”
“Dumb idea.” Leilius stood with his hands on his hips. “They’ll still go for Xavier, because he’s way better looking than any of us.”
“Nah, he thinks too highly of himself. He’ll be pissed he’s second-best. Me? I’ll take anything I can get, pity-sex included. I don’t care.”
“Me, either.” Gracas grinned.
“What if that’s her boyfriend, though?” Rachie asked.
“I think her boyfriend died,” Marc said through numb lips. Why had she come back? She said she had her duty, and all that pressure, so why had she returned? And why was she wearing that horrible pink thing?
“Shut up, you guys.” Xavier straightened up and put a heavy hand on his sword hilt. “That guy is way older than you, and even if you could get girls, which you can’t, you won’t be going for the same ones he will. And it doesn’t matter why she’s back. She didn’t come back for us. So who cares? Let’s get to work.”
“Why else would she come if not for us and the Captain?” Leilius said.
“She didn’t let us know she was here.” Xavier led them toward the Pit with a tight mouth.
Marc knew that look on Xavier’s face—he was sulking. Why? Marc had no idea. Nor did he care.
He followed with stiff legs as they walked through the slow-moving men trying to watch Shanti while attempting to appear busy. The Captain and commanders were all at the other end of the practice yard, talking and staring at the pair. People at the sword practice area had cleared to the side, even though there was room for a several people to practice at once.
Marc watched in fascination as the blond guy picked up a practice sword and surveyed it. Shanti picked up another and hefted it a couple times. Without warning, she lunged. Marc couldn’t help releasing a squeal. She moved so fast. The woman was terrifying.
Her opponent didn’t baulk. He reacted immediately by blocking the lunge and thrusting a counter-attack.
“I’d forgotten how fast she was,” Rachie said in awe. “And that guy reacts too fast.”
“She’s still quicker than him, though,” Leilius said as he looked on. Only Xavier bothered to wait in line to throw a knife.
“You can’t be too fast.” Gracas glared at Rachie.
“Yeah—look! He’s reacting even before she gets moving, anticipating what she’s going to do.”
Marc watched as Shanti initiated a lunge, but before the move was begun, the guy was already moving to block. He countered, and Shanti reacted with her usual speed. Her next strike went the same way—she’d barely even begun the movement and the guy was already moving to intercept.
“See? I didn’t even know what she was going to do, and he already had the answer. How do we learn that?” Rachie continued his unblinking stare.
Marc couldn’t help staring, or the thoughts crowding in his head. Part of him thought he’d never see her again. Now that she’d come back, he couldn’t help but feel that window inside him open again.
He’d been moping and stuttering and wasting away, and she’d look at him with that contained disappointment before rolling up her metaphorical sleeves and getting him on track. Even if she hadn’t ever planned on coming back, he should’ve been continuing to make himself better. She’d started him on the right path, but why was it up to her to keep pushing? He was old enough to look after himself.
Marc voiced the thought. “I’m way behind.”
“Tell me about it,” Gracas said. “She’s going to be pissed. I’ve been messing around.”
“I haven’t, but I hate just standing in line with the ‘yes, sir’ stuff. It’s boring,” Rachie whined.
Xavier looked back at them, spared a glance for the sword work between Shanti and her friend, and then turned back. “We don’t need her.”
“Oh blow it out your ass, Xavier. You’ve fallen behind the most. You need her, you’re just mad she hasn’t fallen madly in love with you.” Rachie braced his hand on his hip in irritation.
“Aren’t you guys still the least bit pissed she left without a word? You’ve, what, just forgiven her because she came back eventually?” Xavier asked.
Gracas and Rachie both shrugged. Marc followed suit as he said, “She did come back. And she’s got a lot of stuff on her plate. And it’s not like we really did our part. She took the time to get us started, and then we just crapped out. She should be pissed at us, too.”
Gracas rubbed his hands together. “When do we start practicing, do you think?”
Chapter Nine
Qadir walked silently through the trees. He glanced up at the sentry to his right, not even ten paces from his location. The man was scanning the area with a practiced eye. Alert, though there couldn’t be much activity in this rural setting. Usually a mind would slow down from long hours of boredom, but this man seemed sharp in the way his eyes scanned and occasionally darted. To test this theory, Qadir tossed a rock into a nearby bush. A tiny rustle sang through the otherwise quiet afternoon.
The sentry glanced in that direction immediately, focusing on the waving leaves. After a moment the flora stilled and quiet resumed. The sentry returned to his scanning.
This was the second sentry Qadir had tested, and his reactions were the same. A small, mostly inactive town it might be, but the guards were kept vigilant.
Plans shifted within Qadir’s mind. He withdrew, careful not to disturb anything that might make a sound. Once he was back within a thick grove of trees and shrubs, away from the watchful onlookers, he allowed himself to sit in quiet contemplation.
The violet-eyed woman had surprised him. That was exceedingly rare. She’d taken a well-traveled lane instead of a smaller, less-traversed route. It was gutsy. When Qadir realized the mistake, mak
ing haste to catch her was a futile effort. Especially because she’d run right back to this place. The Westwood Lands.
What brought her here, he wondered. What was it about this city, and these men, that she returned here for a safe harbor?
Qadir thought of the large, solid gates. Defense was in mind when those were made by skilled craftsmen. Even from Qadir’s distance, he’d seen scars that could only have been caused from battle. The walls, built with good stonework and seemingly impregnable, were an effective deterrent to an attack. For a city without a great deal of traffic, the defenses were well thought out.
Thoughts filtered through Qadir’s mind. Memories flashed by. Facts and rumors rolled.
The Inkna had inspired an attack here, Qadir remembered. They had watched the city for their goods and commodities. To gain access, they’d used a decrepit people close by.
Qadir scratched his chin. He didn’t recall the name, which meant he’d probably never heard it. It didn’t matter, though. They were immaterial.
With the violet-eyed woman’s aid, this city had laid waste to an Inkna settlement. Her power had rendered them defenseless, and the warriors with her had pulled the Inkna out by the root. It was an impressive feat for two reasons. One was the woman’s power. It must be everything the Being Supreme thought it was. Several powerful and expertly trained Sarshers would be needed to take her down.
Second was the prowess this small city of warriors must possess. There couldn’t be many within an area this small, but they must be well-trained. Taking on the Inkna was a job for fearless men. With wealth and assets included, it pointed toward a solid, organized leader with a head for business as well as defense.
A tally flashed through Qadir’s thoughts. Raven flights and travel times were added to the force already on its way. Each day the size of his battalion would grow with specialized Sarshers and trained men with excellent pedigree.
His mind called up the images of the various gates, always open but constantly watched. They had but one mind-worker. His Sarshers could merge and desecrate the sentries as his squad on horseback raced toward those gates. By the time the city was alerted to the attack, Qadir’s men would be through, cutting down those who posed a threat. His Sarshers would bring up the rear as one solid force, focusing on the violet-eyed girl. With her incapacitated, they could drop the city to their knees and reestablish order.
There was only one issue. That old man.
An uncomfortable flare of fear burnt up Qadir’s back.
The Being Supreme had appointed Qadir to guard that man. If Qadir failed in his duty—
The thought cut off as the clawing fear started to eat away at his gut.
Death would be an easy way out if the Being Supreme learned of Qadir’s failure. This situation needed to be rectified.
Qadir took a deep breath and closed his eyes, refocusing on the numbers of men and the various travel times. Two days was all he’d need. With his plans already in motion, two days would see this city conquered and the priceless captives in his hands. Until then, he’d stay out of the woman’s range, letting her relax in the thick illusion of safety.
She was already captured; he had but to spring the trap.
Chapter Ten
“The Captain was watching us pretty closely,” Rohnan stated as Shanti and he made their way through the large park to the clearing she had once used to train her Honor Guard. “He is an interesting man. Half-calculating, half-impulsive, I think. He will be trouble in a fight.”
“He is trouble in a fight.” Shanti rubbed her stomach. Butterflies raged as she got closer. Guilt dripped through her middle like acid. “Do you think they’ll forgive me?”
“You said he changes his style to match that of his opponent. And he has the Gift. Will my natural defense not be as effective, do you think?”
Shanti’s brow furrowed as she realized Rohnan was still talking about Cayan. “Rohnan, regardless of his shift in style, you can feel intent—how can he hide that?”
Rohnan’s eyes barely squinted—it was his version of a shrug. She smiled. “These people won’t hold it against you if you get beat by their beloved Captain. It’s getting beat by a girl that they find worthy of scorn.”
“These people are small-minded in many ways, but I’m not worried about appearances. I’ve studied this Captain. I’ve seen how he moves, how his mind shifts. Did you realize that he studies all of your movements, and is always aware of your presence? He learns from you even when you don’t teach. When you trained in your Gift today, before we left the practice yard, he stepped away from his commanders to focus more closely on you. Not us, you. He knows you are the key to unlocking his potential, and his mind is sharp. With his power, and his various gifts, he could be great—he could rule half the world. All he needs is what you possess—he just needs you.”
Shanti stopped and turned to her brother. Fear and concern poured from him. His eyebrows dipped low over solemn eyes. She reached out her hand and waited until he took it. The contact made his deeper emotions open up to her.
Fear and inadequacy raged within him, clinging to her being alive with a wild desperation. He’d thought her dead, and that had raged war on everything that kept him rooted. Shanti had been his backbone growing up, she knew that, helping him cope after feeling his parents killed right in front of him at age three. She woke him up and held him when the screams of their deaths overcame his slumber. She’d bestowed on the fair boy with a strange Gift who never spoke and often cried, the rare and coveted title of Chance. A duty that would change the makeup of the world. A title heavily sought and prized. For the first time, she was learning that he thought she’d made him something to their people.
When he thought he lost her, all the strength had gone out of him. The nightmares had raged on, day and night, a fear of the future mixing with that of the past. He had no one strong enough to drag him out of it. He’d lived from one torturous day to the next, finding no comfort in the warm embrace of strangers, or the hot blood of his enemies.
Shanti felt it all, welling up and spilling over, as she shared his touch.
She smiled as tears came to her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her brother. “And now you are worried Cayan will rip me away again, is that it?”
“He has the ability, Chosen. If he so chose, he could learn all he could, and then strike you down. You may be creating a new nightmare to destroy this land.”
Shanti laughed despite Rohnan’s shaking fears. “Creating a new nightmare, maybe. But not to destroy this land—to wreck my head.”
“I’m serious…”
“I know you are. I know.” She rubbed his back, transported back in time to those early years when they were both newly orphaned, just trying to survive the pain together. Keeping her Grandfather was a small consolation for losing everything else from that first battle.
“He could be great, Rohnan, you are right. And I hope he becomes so, because to take down Xandre, we’ll need it. Cayan has so many rare gifts all blended into one. He has what I lack when it comes to organization, strategy, and overall economics. I worked with a small group—he is able to maintain a much larger one. I need him. For our side to win, he has to be a part of it. He has to fill in the holes I cannot. Do you understand?”
“But what happens when he learns what you have to offer, and realizes he doesn’t need you anymore?”
“I doubt that day will come. I can churn out some truly remarkable fighters with little more than a basic spark. That is one of my gifts. And that is something he lacks. He needs me as much as I need him. We need each other to fight the war machine Xandre has created, and he’s smart enough to know that.”
“And when he tries to dominate you?” Rohnan asked in a solemn voice.
Shanti felt a flash of fire fueling a mad grin. “Oh, he tries. He tries all the time. It’s one of the few things about him that is completely predictable…”
Rohnan backed away and wiped his face. Shanti let him take a moment to look into
her eyes, rebuilding his strength. He nodded once and looked at the ground. “You are no longer an outcast. You have found a mate for your Gift.”
“Pah.” Shanti waved her hand through the air. “Did you see the practice yard? If I’m anything, it’s an outcast. But now you have Burson, who also has a strange Gift. You are never alone for long, Rohnan. There are strange people everywhere.”
He smiled, looking out over the trees. Lightening up, thankfully.
Rohnan took a deep, shuddering breath. He said, “I never understood why the Elders chose me to protect you. I’m not built for it. Kallon, your Battle First, would’ve been a better choice—he’s confident, strong and sure. He’s a warrior. I don’t deserve to be your Chance, Chosen. I’m not fit for it.”
A dark chuckle welled up inside her. “What a pair we make. I never thought I was the Chosen—I didn’t ask why the Elders chose me; I didn’t think they did. And just when I shed the title, I’m strapped with another, which I can’t hope to understand. I can’t even fight that one, because I don’t know what it is.” She sighed. “I don’t know what comes next, Rohnan. I have no idea what our future holds. But we’ll face it together, okay? Our people need us.”
“And so do a band of young boys, I hear.”
Shanti started walking again, the butterflies springing to life and fluttering around her ribcage. “I think I’ve widened the most eyes making this particular group of boys into something commendable. Or… at least… I did. Before I left.”
“Your turn for self-pity, then?”
“Yours took long enough—can’t I have some time?”
Shanti stepped through the branches and into the clearing where five boys budding into men waited for her. Leilius, tall and lanky, beamed when he saw her. “Hi, S’am!”
She smiled at his greeting and looked to the person next to him. Gracas stood with a half-smile and raised eyebrows like he was waiting for something. She nodded, and received one back. Then Gracas elbowed Leilius.
