by Theresa Kay
There’s something I’m forgetting, something important, some fact nibbling at the back of my mind trying to get my attention…
I’m inside and want to be out. Inside. To. Outside.
The thing that opens the door is E’rikon tech. I am E’rikon tech.
I stride to the door and run my hands along the edges. Twice. There’s no access to the silver pad in here, but maybe I can still use my abilities on it? Dane probably didn’t plan on holding E’rikon prisoners down here—otherwise Jax’s green-haired friend would have been down here—so I should be able to do something. Maybe.
Resting one hand on the side of the door where I imagine the pad would be, I stretch my mind outward. Slowly. Cautiously. Until I find something that feels like the ship’s interface, mechanical and not living. If it works like the one on the ship…
Open?
Nothing happens.
I push harder and put more force behind the command.
Open.
There’s a barely audible click, but nothing else. Why didn’t it open?
Because it swings inward.
There’s no handle on this side, so I shove my fingers into the narrow crack between the door and the wall, and I pull.
And just like that I’m out in the hallway.
Well, that was simple. Why the hell didn’t I think of it sooner? Something close to laughter puffs from my chest, and my lips twitch upward.
Three steps carry me to the next door, the cell where Peter is. I start to place my hand on the pad, but then I pause. What if it’s some kind of trap? What if Grandfather knew I’d get out and he’s waiting for me? What if this is another sliver of hope he plans to strip from me? What if…
I give my head a brisk shake. It wouldn’t make sense for him to set a trap here. Outside maybe, but not here. My mind made up, I slam my palm down beside the door and order it to open.
An untouched tray slides across the floor as the door swings open, but the form on the bed doesn’t move. Peter’s sleeping. Does that mean it’s nighttime? I wrack my brain trying to pull together a sense of time to figure out how long I’ve been down here… No luck.
Is he okay?
I send my mind out to brush against his, softly, carefully, terrified I might hurt him by accident. The stability of… well, me is questionable. My head feels like something that was squished in the grip of a madman—probably because it was—and I’m not entirely sure what the repercussions of that might be, or if I’ll ever be who I was.
Not that I’m too sure I want to be.
Peter?
There’s no answer, not in words anyway, just in… awareness I guess. He acknowledges my question, but doesn’t know how to respond like an E’rikon would. Or maybe he can’t? It’s never been clear to me what the constraints and rules of my abilities are and how they apply to humans versus E’rikon.
The form on the cot slowly rolls over, and I’m hit by a second of absolute terror where I’m certain someone or something other than Peter will be in that bed. But it’s definitely Peter. Tired, pale, and a little thinner than last I saw him, but him. His eyes, filled with hope and warmth, come to rest on me.
“Jace? It’s good to see you,” he says in a rough voice. He rubs a hand over his face. “My goodness, what a day it’s been. I never liked how we left things, that whole argument about Jastren and your sister, but I never expected your grandfather to be so… so… perhaps ‘evil’ is the right word for it, yes? I’d only hoped to check in on you and make sure you were well when that awful man bopped me upside the head and dragged me down here. But it’s probably a good thing he did, now that I think of it. I wouldn’t have found you otherwise. I have found you now, though, so all’s well that ends well, yes?”
I’m frozen in place, too stunned to respond, because no one has looked at me with such absolute kindness, even joy, since… since…
He sits up suddenly, his brow wrinkling in concern. “Are you all right?”
Tremors move through my body. I manage to shake my head once before the sight of him blurs in front of me, but the sobs don’t hit until he wraps his arms around me, pulls me into a hug, and whispers in my ear. “It’ll be okay, my boy. It’ll be okay.”
And there, for the first time since this all started, I actually believe it might be.
THE ROOM AROUND ME IS utter chaos. Those E’rikon who have regained consciousness—about half of them—are all trying to talk over each other, creating nothing but a jumbled sea of shouted words no one person could possibly decipher. Brin’s still down, and although Vitrad is sitting up, he’s barely roused—certainly not well enough to take control of the room.
Lir and I stand quietly to one side with Gavin and Harrison sitting slightly behind us. Trel’s head is resting in Gavin’s lap, and Rym is blinking up at the ceiling on the floor beside Harrison.
The other two humans made themselves scarce while everyone was distracted. That’s not going to reflect well on the humans still in the room—or me, or even Lir, since it’s pretty clear he wasn’t affected by the sound. The E’rikon haven’t turned on us yet, but I’m guessing it’s only a matter of time before the “outsiders” in the room get blamed for whatever just happened. I’m hoping Vitrad is stable enough by that time to talk some sense into them.
I shake my head. It’s mind-boggling to think I’m hoping Vitrad will be able to help us.
Lir crouches down beside Gavin. “She has not woken yet? Is she okay?”
Gavin looks down at Trel. “Her breathing appears to be steady and her pulse is strong. I imagine it’s only a matter of time.”
“She will be spitting mad when she wakes up,” says Rym from his spot on the floor. He tilts his face toward Gavin, and winces. Probably from the lingering pain in his head. “You might want to make yourself scarce when that happens. Humans are not her favorite species on the best of days…”
Gavin shrugs. “I had to assess her, and I wasn’t going to leave her lying on the ground. What’s the worst she can do?”
Rym pushes up onto his elbows and shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out,” he says with a smirk.
Trel’s eyes crack open and quickly droop closed again. One hand comes up to rest on Gavin’s cheek as her eyes move through three long blinks. “Kov…” She blinks a few more times, squints, then jerks her hand away from Gavin with a horrified expression on her face. “You are not… Who… What…” She looks around the room frantically, her eyes unfocused.
“Ma’am—”
Crack! Trel’s hand lands on Gavin’s cheek again, this time with a smack, her confusion quickly replaced by anger. “Let go of me!” She scrambles away from Gavin and closer to Lir, who wraps an arm around her shoulder and sits down with his back against the wall.
“Told you,” says Rym. He winces again, and Trel gives him a narrow-eyed glare. Looks like she’s not too happy with him at the moment either.
Gavin open and closes his mouth a couple of times and wiggles his jaw back and forth. There’s a clear imprint of a hand on his cheek, but he looks more stunned than angry about it. “I was only trying to help. I’m sorry if… uh…”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Gavin.” I roll my eyes, kind of pissed on his behalf. “Isn’t that right, Trel?” I turn a pointed look on the golden-haired E’rikon. She has the decency to look ashamed.
“I apologize,” she says, staring at the floor. “I was disoriented.”
I take a step in their direction, and my legs falter. Gavin jumps up and grabs my arm to steady me. “Thanks,” I say.
“No problem.” He leads me to the wall.
Lir looks up at me. “Do you know what happened? Was it…” His eyes travel around the room, and he whispers, “Jace?”
Gavin’s face jerks to mine. “He can do that?”
“No. Well, I don’t know.” I shrug and slide my back down the wall until I’m sitting beside Lir and Trel. My head is still throbbing with the aftereffects of the strange noise. “Maybe?”
�
��Can you—” Gavin starts.
“You miserable traitor!” Brin grabs the fabric of Lir’s uniform and yanks him upward. Damn. I’d hoped Brin was going to stay down for a while. “Once again you have brought the humans here to do damage to our city. You will not escape punishment this time around, no matter who your family was.”
That last word guts Lir, pain splashing not only through the bond but over his face as well. His jaw tenses and he averts his eyes.
When Lir doesn’t respond, Brin releases him and points a long finger at my face. “And you—”
“Chancellor Brin,” snaps Vitrad in a hard voice, his face strained and… scared? “You will control yourself.”
And there it is. I’m actually grateful to Vitrad. That’s certainly something I never expected. He and I share a look. We’re not going to be friends—ever—but I think we can agree we don’t want the annihilation of the other. For now anyway.
“It wasn’t the humans,” I say, rising to my feet. All eyes in the room turn to me. “In case you didn’t notice, that was an attack specifically tailored to affect E’rikon. We—they—the humans don’t have that kind of weaponry.”
“And why should I believe you?” Brin sniffs, his nose moving higher so he can look down on me.
“Because I’m here. They know what I am and what I’m capable of, and they want to use me. They wouldn’t try to blow me up.”
“And she saved your life,” adds Vitrad. His is soft, contemplative. He turns to the other E’rikon and sweeps an arm around the room. “She saved many of your lives.”
What? He sounds… respectful, in awe even. And I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about. I didn’t do anything but stand here.
Lir’s brow quirks upward. Mine are practically in my hairline. Apparently the only one not surprised by what Vitrad just said is Vitrad himself. I want to ask him what he’s talking about, but if it’s some sort of ploy on his part I don’t want to discredit it by questioning him.
That contemplative look is still on Vitrad’s face as if the whole thing is an interesting puzzle. “You do not know…” The words are soft—probably the least forceful thing I’ve ever heard come out of Vitrad’s mouth. He’s unsure, or maybe busy thinking about how he can use whatever he thinks I did to further his goals. He always did want me to be his weapon. It’s the glint of an emotion I don’t recognize in his eye that finally sets me off.
“No. I don’t know. What the hell are you talking about?” I ask in a flat voice.
Lir chuckles beside me and, there’s a quiet snort from Rym as they glance at each other and then at me. What did they expect? They know damn well diplomacy is not my strong suit, and I sure as hell don’t owe Vitrad any respect, even if he is on our side… kind of.
Vitrad shoots a glare at his son and shakes his head before turning his attention back to me. “I know you are aware that you have multiple enhancements thanks to your… thanks to Jastren meddling with your mother’s genetics. My daughter told me as much. Has anyone spoken to you of the Linaud line’s enhancement?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “No.”
“It is called the lingali. It allows us to… block the abilities of others.” He sees the question in my eyes and continues. “To a point. I was not guarded enough in my interactions with Jastren. Since he had undergone the emhasin, I was not aware I needed to be on alert around him. It is an active enhancement, not a passive one.”
“And this applies to me how?”
“I believe, in your case, it does act as a passive enhancement. Either that, or you unintentionally utilize it most of the time. This could be the reason Jastren has never been able to control you—and why you have problems with the link. Your instinctive defenses have effectively kept everyone out. Those same defenses threw up a shield when the attack hit—one that extended to many of those in this room.”
“Attack?”
“I am fairly certain that is what the noise was: an attack on the city, or perhaps on the Council specifically.” He closes his eyes and inhales through his nose. “I am unsure how far the damage might extend. I can sense survivors in other sections of the city, but much of this section is… quiet.”
Rym’s head jerks up, and Lir’s brow creases as concern and confusion flow across the bond.
“Who? How?” I stutter.
It’s Rym who answers. “Jastren. He must have used the Pulse on the ship as an amplifier.” He closes his eyes for a brief second. “The shikiza…”
My feet move backward of their own accord so the wall can hold me up. I knew it was deadly, but I had no idea the shikiza could wipe out who knows how many E’rikon in a span of seconds. And if I hadn’t been here… the entire Council would be gone, and Jastren would control the city.
This is why the Council took Jastren’s abilities, leaving a dark, empty hole for his hatred to grow in. They knew how dangerous the shikiza could be, and they didn’t want to take the chance of it ever being turned on them.
But Jastren didn’t stand for that. He’s too proud to sit back and accept anyone taking something from him. So he found a way to give himself—and me and Jace—a shikiza more powerful than they’d ever imagined. And then he amplified it and turned it on the very group that took it from him in the first place.
Dad was right about Jastren’s desire for revenge on the people who took his abilities—the Council and the elite family lines who were part of it.
How long was Jastren planning this? What other events did he put in motion in pursuit of his revenge?
At that thought, a realization hits me.
“You really didn’t blow up the towers,” I whisper to myself. My eyes move up to find Vitrad’s. “The research facility, sure. Lir was down there. Stellan didn’t get angry enough about the loss of his ward, but his son? He would have convinced the Council to give you anything you wanted. But Jastren knew about your plan and thought he’d take it a step further—get rid of the Vestras and the Linauds in one blow and blame the whole thing on the humans. But he didn’t know Rym was with us and…” I pause, struggling to remember something Vitrad said. This was not supposed to happen yet. My eyes widen. “Something went wrong with the timing, by design or… I don’t know. And when Jastren’s plan didn’t work out as he’d expected, he made a couple adjustments in your mind, and poof, it was all Lir’s fault. It wasn’t like what he has to do with Jace, constantly exerting the effort to control him; he simply changed how you thought about the facts.”
Trel’s mouth drops open, a look of betrayal frozen on her face. “You would have killed Lir to further your own agenda?”
Vitrad lifts his chin. “My agenda was to protect you, to give my grandchild a better life than one spent in this tiny bubble. The Council would never have agreed to implementing the human initiative as long as Stellan stood against it. I—”
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
What the…? The E’rikon around me glance at each other in confusion. But Gavin, Harrison, and I share a knowing look. Those were gunshots. Close ones. Jastren has help.
Gavin’s military training kicks in. He steps to the center of the dais and in a calm, clear voice starts directing the E’rikon to move to the sides of the room and make their way toward the doors so the room can be evacuated.
No one listens to him. A couple let out derisive snickers.
Gavin shakes his head and pulls Harrison to the side. “I don’t care if you have to move them physically, get an evacuation started.”
Harrison nods. “Sir.”
Gavin strides back to where I’m standing with Lir. “We need to get everyone out of here in case those shooters make their way here,” he says. He eyes the staggered seats and the stairs leading to the doors at the top of the room. “This room is not defensible. If the shooters come in here, they’ll go to the top and sweep downward. We’ll be trapped while they pick us off from above. It’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.”
“The askari will handle the
m before they reach this room,” says Vitrad in a snide voice.
Gavin’s head swings in Vitrad’s direction. “Awfully confident, aren’t you? Can your special soldiers outrun bullets? Do you even know if those outside this room survived the attack?”
Too late. The doors open as if in slow motion and human soldiers—Bridgelake soldiers—pour in. Their movements are concise and practiced, not a single bullet wasted. With each shot, an E’rikon goes down. Just like Gavin predicted, they move first to the top level, shooting anyone who gets in their way. Throughout the room the E’rikon Council members dart behind whatever cover they can find.
I reach for my knife. It’s not there. There’s no sheath in this goddamn uniform, and I left my knife sitting on the bed. I’m completely unarmed.
My eyes fly to each one of my friends in turn. They’re also unarmed, and since they’re normally dependent on the askari and their mental abilities, the E’rikon aren’t trained in self-defense.
Gavin turns one of the tables onto its side, pulls it closer to the wall, and motions for us to duck behind it. Vitrad takes it one step farther. Grabbing Trel by the arm, he yanks her into the shadowed alcove behind the table.
Kai and Miri turn their backs to the Linauds and face outward into the room in a crouched position. Protection. But mostly useless. If the goal of this attack is to take out the elite, neither the table nor the alcove will be enough to protect the Linauds—or any of us—for long. And the Vi’askari are merely another barrier. They don’t have any weapons that would be effective against the soldiers, and hand-to-gun combat wouldn’t work out in their favor.
A soldier stands in each of the two exits, blocking them. Not that anyone’s trying to get past. The remaining Council members are mostly cowering on the floor, under their seats, and anywhere else they’ve been able to find cover. It keeps them out of the line of fire for now, but it’s only a matter of time before those soldiers start going down each row and shooting whatever E’rikon they can find.
Gavin takes a few beats to study the soldiers as they move closer to the upper levels of the room. He shifts to crouch next to Miri. “Are there any other exits besides those two doors?”
