by Ben Hale
“My House has fallen, and my only allies are my brother and my father—who would toss me into a sun if it would buy his freedom. If that wasn’t enough, I have reason to suspect a Bloodblade will someday come for me, and I’d like to be prepared.”
“That’s what vids and holograms are for,” Siena said.
He laughed lightly. “How do you think I trained the last time? But a crystal cannot fight back. You can.”
“I’m a slave. If I fight in secret, I lose my head.”
“And if I don’t fight, I’ll lose mine.”
She shook her head and pressed herself against the seracrete door.
He groaned and pointed the blade at her throat, at the brand. “When I saw that brand, I thought you had grit. But it seems I was mistaken, and it turns out you’re just like every other slave.”
Stung, she stepped away from the door. “You’ve lived for thousands of years—probably tens of thousands, and I’m just sixteen. You expect me to help you train with a weapon I’ve never even touched? I thought you were intelligent.”
She’d called a krey stupid, and she regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. She sucked in her breath as if it could stop them from reaching his ears, but he merely smiled.
“That’s the girl I need.” He raised the second hilt and offered it to her again. “Combat requires an opponent.”
She looked to the offered hilt, surprised to find that she believed him. Krey were experts in survival, and Ero was being practical. His best chance at learning to fight was to have a secret training companion—one who was expendable.
Siena knew that choosing to accept the offered weapon would set her on a course that would likely bring her death, but it was not fear that stirred her blood. It was excitement. When she’d dumped roak entrails on Laurik, she’d experienced a surge of emotion, of defiant, boiling anger, and this time she felt it again. Whether Ero realized it or not, he was giving Siena the chance to defend herself, and whatever her fate, she craved the chance to fight.
She reached out and opened her hand. “Give me the energy blade.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
It took all of ten seconds for Siena to realize that Ero knew more about bladecraft than she could learn in a lifetime. It was also clear that he had spoken the truth. The krey had training holograms for everything from piloting to engineering, but krey combat was rare outside of the Bone Crucible, with most krey employing dakorians to do the fighting on their behalf.
The two blades crackled with energy from the latest impact, spitting sparks into her face as Ero knocked the weapon high and slapped her in the face. The strike knocked her onto her back.
“I thought you said you knew how to use a blade,” Ero said.
“I killed roaks.” She stood and wiped sweat from her forehead. “They didn’t exactly have blades in their antenna.”
He grinned and swept a hand to her, an invitation. She darted in and swung the blade at Ero’s side. He parried with ease, driving the energy blade up and out. Then he rolled in and elbowed her in the nose. She saw stars and tasted blood, her head rocking back. Ero retreated again with a frown.
“It seems you have some work before you become a decent training companion,” he said.
“Are you going to get a permit for me to train?”
“Too expensive.”
“So you’re just going to ignore the Empire?”
He shrugged. “Krey aren’t exactly good at obeying the law.”
She snorted and then winced. She held her nose so blood wouldn’t drip onto her shirt and then spotted more blood from a cut on her shoulder. Ero could have taken her arm but only left a slice across her shoulder, a reminder that he could kill her at his pleasure.
He deactivated the energy blade and returned the hilt to the box. He turned his back . . . while she still held her blade. The tip of her blade lifted, her hand sensing her chance. She could kill him, and then take the blade and kill Skorn. She could figure out how to control the ship and then go anywhere. Ero had already implied they were flying in deep space, and Siena doubted anyone knew their location. It would be easy.
But her hand came to a halt and did not move again. Siena had suffered years of pain and abuse from krey, all except for Ero. Laurik she would have killed, but Ero did not deserve such betrayal. The opportunity passed, and Ero turned and took the hilt from her hand, deactivating the blade and returning it to its hiding place. Then he regarded her with a critical eye.
“Teaching a slave the rudimentary elements of combat would be tedious, so I’m demoting you,” he said. “Pick someone else to be the overseer. You’re now my personal attendant.”
She’d known the personal attendant of Secondous Laurik and those of her sons. They spent more time with the krey than anyone, and never lasted long. But this was more than a normal slave’s duty, and Ero was asking her to risk her life, and that gave her an idea. In a sudden burst of courage, she lifted her chin.
“One condition,” she said.
“You would ask a favor of your owner?” He released an incredulous snort. “You’re either reckless or stupid.”
Her courage wavered, but she held firm. “If you’re caught training with a blade, nothing happens. If I’m caught with an energy blade, I get killed. I think I deserve one favor.”
He laughed, the sound tinged with irritation and admiration. “I suppose I should not be surprised that boldness comes with the brand. What do you want? Glint? Better clothes? A compartment to yourself?”
“I want you to find my friend, a slave named Kensen.”
He regarded her with confusion. “You don’t want something for yourself?”
“No.”
“A ferox that cares for another,” he said wryly. “It is an unusual request. But I guess I should have expected extortion.”
“I just want my friend back. Laurik sold him the night before she sold me.”
“Do you know why I took you to see my mother?”
She shook her head, disliking the turn in conversation.
“Because Hellina measures a krey’s status by the value of their possessions. She would look at you and see me as the poorest of the poor, unable to purchase better quality.”
“Why would you want to look poor?” she asked. “I thought krey were obsessed with appearance.”
“Most of us are,” Ero said. “But I don’t really care about any of that. What I care about is irritating my mother. Even though she abandoned House Bright’Lor, she is still linked to our House, so if I look poor it makes her look poor.”
“What’s your point?”
“That you were useful,” Ero said. “But you’re still a slave with a ferox brand and a bad genome. What makes you think you’re in a position to ask anything of me?”
His question was not one of condemnation or even anger. Rather, he was amused by her bold request. Taking courage from his lack of anger, she pointed to the energy blades.
“You need me to train,” she said.
“I could choose another slave,” Ero said.
“You could,” Siena said. “But I thought you wanted to improve. How many of that bunch cleaning your ship do you think would even touch a weapon? You need a fighter, and as I’m sure you are aware, there aren’t many humans willing to fight.”
“A few minutes with a weapon and you’re already making demands.” His laugh was tinged with admiration and chagrin.
“Do we have a deal?” she asked.
He rolled his eyes and acquiesced with a nod. “I’ll do what I can to find Kenfin.”
“You mean Kensen,” she corrected.
“Whatever. Just remember there are 900 trillion slaves in the Empire. Finding one is going to be difficult, but I’ll see what I can do.”
She managed to keep the elation from her voice. “So if I’m your personal attendant, what do you need?”
He rolled his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? Go to the holochamber and start your blade training. I’ll authorize your use o
f the room.”
Slaves were never permitted to use the holographic chambers, but she knew what they could do. She managed to contain her excitement with a nod. He opened the secret door, and they departed the gravity sphere compartment.
But Ero paused on the threshold and looked back, his blue eyes piercing into her soul. “Breathe a whisper of this to anyone, and I’ll deny it. Then I’ll kill you myself.”
Not daring to speak, she nodded vigorously. Then the haunting expression turned into a smile, and Ero motioned to the riser. “We’ll reach our destination in a few days. Find another overseer and get started.”
“As you will.” She bowed her head, grateful he could not see her smile.
When Ero was gone, she made her way back to the riser. She stepped onto the circle of light and descended to the lower deck. She passed several storage chambers and then found the group cleaning what had once been guest quarters. All were present, even Rahnora, who worked next to Lyn. Siena’s bloody appearance drew immediate attention from Lyn, who rose to her feet.
“Are you injured?” Lyn asked.
“Not badly,” Siena replied.
Begle sidled up to her. “Look at you, you’re a mess.” He sniffed at the blood on her shirt. “How much did he burn you?”
Bort put an arm around his burly brother. “Not enough to fix that ugly face.”
Siena came to a halt and turned to face them. Both were a few years older than her, but not yet adults. They bore matching stubble on their chins, and their red hair matched the growing facial hair. The brothers were stocky and might have been sold at a discount because of their hair. Not all krey liked slaves with red hair. It was too noticeable.
“Insubordination cannot be tolerated by an overseer.” She spoke loudly, drawing attention from everyone in the room. She then smiled sweetly. “I’m assigning Begle and Bort to clean the air scrubbers for the rest of the flight.”
Their eyes narrowed in unison. “You can’t do that.”
“Of course she can.” Lyn stood at Siena’s side and folded her arms. “And I’d get started. Those things are beyond filthy.”
They glowered at Lyn and then turned and walked around Siena and into the hall. Most of the slaves muttered to each other, their expressions sullen. Siena tried to resist the urge to gloat at the twins but utterly failed.
“I expect it to be completely clean by the time we arrive,” she said.
They glared at her before entering the engineering bay. Siena relished the moment, pleased to find that her few moments of training with Ero had fueled the fire in her stomach. It would probably get her killed, but for now, it was difficult to deny such a feeling of strength.
“It’s good to see you stepping into your new role.” Lyn nodded in satisfaction.
Siena faced the older woman. “Too bad it’s short lived.”
She raised an eyebrow. “They removed you from being overseer?” She pointed to the dried blood. “What exactly did you do?”
“I fixed a power converter.” She couldn’t resist the smile.
“So who is the new overseer?”
“You are.”
Lyn raised an eyebrow. “I’m a little past my prime.”
“I think you can handle it. But at least you won’t have to worry about me. Ero assigned me to be his personal attendant.”
Both eyebrows went up. “What exactly happened with that power converter?”
“I fixed it.”
She turned and stepped to the door, leaving Lyn to her confusion. The moment she was in the corridor, Siena stopped and leaned against a bulkhead, her breathing accelerating like she’d been running.
What was she doing? She wasn’t someone who talked like this, who doled out punishment to belligerent slaves, who issued orders to her superiors, and she certainly wasn’t the type to train in secret to master a weapon. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she clenched her eyes shut. She balled her hands into fists and then straightened.
She was tired of being afraid. No matter the cost, Ero had given her an opportunity, and she would see it through. She set her jaw in a grim line and returned to the riser, ascending to the upper deck. From there, she made her way to the holochamber. Her hand trembled as she touched the panel to open the door, and it rose into the bulkhead.
The compartment was all black, the walls shimmering. She’d helped to clean the one on Verdigris and laughed when the gravity had tumbled her about. Now she trembled as she stepped to the center of the small chamber, the gravity lifting her to a floating position. Light filled the chamber.
She’d been in every room in Laurik’s home hunting roaks, including her holochamber. The one onboard the Nova was smaller and obviously older, but still had the raised platform in the center. She ascended the steps and cautiously put her feet into the markings.
Clamps rose from the floor and wrapped around her shoes. She flinched as the metal held her bound, and her fear mounted when the rest of the floor dropped away beneath her.
“Kensen would have loved this,” she breathed.
The outer wall turned bright green, fading into a mountaintop. A bright blue sky filled the vista, the most brilliant sunrise she’d ever seen. Clouds drifted below the peak, and she spotted a host of structures on neighboring peaks. As if she’d Gated to a planet, she could no longer feel the room, the ship, or even the hum of the gravity drive. Her heart thudded in her chest as she looked to her hands and arms, only to find them covered in krey clothing.
She reached to an invisible position in front of her chest and poked the air, making a hologram appear from the spark of light. It filled her vision, turning into a series of small vids.
“Holochamber unlocked for unrestricted access for the slave named Brand. Authorization, Ero Bright’Lor.”
The disembodied voice spoke in her ear, and she shuddered as if it were a shout. She, a slave, had unlimited access to the training chamber. She could learn how to pilot a ship or see how to repair the gravity drive on an Imperial battle cruiser. She could send messages to anyone in the Empire, perhaps even locate Kensen herself, although that was unlikely. Then she realized the name the cortex had used to address her.
“Brand?” she asked aloud.
“You,” the cortex responded.
Siena realized that for all the kinship to Ero, he didn’t know her name, and he had chosen to call her Brand. She wasn’t sure if she should be offended or amused. Even Secondous Laurik had known her name.
A series of cubes appeared, each floating around her and showing various ways she could use the holochamber. She could watch current battles in the Bone Crucible, cooking vids, history vids, hunting vids, vids of krey romance, or listen to music by noted krey artists—the supply was endless.
She spun the small vids to the side until she found the one she was looking for, the training vid for combat. She sifted through the various combat techniques, including hammer lances and long lances, even small hammers designed for krey hands. At the very end of the list were thousands of training vids for blades. She touched the krey vid, and the field changed, the ground and sky giving way to a well-lit stone chamber, completely enclosed and lit by torches on the walls. A faceless adversary materialized in front of her and raised a blade in a combat stance.
She looked down and found a blade in her hand, so she raised it to match her teacher, and the blades came together, so real she felt the reverberation through her muscles and bones. A slow smile spread on her face, her eyes sharpening with delight. She felt it in the marrow of her bones. This was what she was born to do. To become.
Her blade spun up and back as she matched the cortex’s holo, her features set in a determined line. Movement by movement, technique after technique. She worked through them, driving herself to memorize the motions. Time blurred around her, and sleep was a hindrance.
A cold determination settled into her chest as she poured herself into training, the excitement warring with her spark of fear. Learning how to fight might cost her life, but s
he had never felt so alive.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“This is demeaning,” Worg said.
Reklin glanced at the dakorian and grinned. Worg was looking in a holographic mirror, the image of his head floating above the crystal, with his two ranks burned off his horns. Reklin stepped to his side and looked up, where the ends of his horns had been sliced clean off.
Hornless.
Seeing his new rank brought a measure of revulsion, and even knowing it was temporary, he could not entirely shake the shame. Hornless dakorians were criminals of the Empire, and few would hire them for even mundane tasks. He was grateful his soldiers were circumspect enough not to mention his disgraced status.
“When we complete our assignment, our ranks will be restored to us,” Reklin reminded them, and himself.
“It took me decades to become a first lieutenant,” Worg said as he reached up and rubbed the burned mark, the mark of a soldier that had been dismissed from the military.
“I lost two bars, too.” Alina’s voice was sour as she donned the ragged cloak of an outcast dakorian.
“We’ll get them back.” Teridon stabbed a finger at Reklin. “But he gets to become a Bloodwall.”
Reklin grinned. “Is that jealousy I hear?”
“Yes,” Teridon said.
Reklin’s smile widened, and he turned to admire the blade given to him by Quel. The weapon inspired awe, but it would not be suitable for this assignment. No one would believe a disgraced dakorian would have such a weapon, so he’d decided to carry the blade broken in his duel with Quel. The weapon was now a hand’s width shorter than before. Still dangerous, but only a broken dakorian would carry a broken blade. It fit the image he needed for their next assignment.
“Don’t take anything that will betray your true identity.” Reklin fixed Alina with a look, and she rolled her eyes and pulled the small energy dagger from the hidden sheath.
Activating the weapon with a touch, she waved its sparking blue blade through the air. “I can’t take this?”
