by Ben Hale
Ero swept around him. “Skorn and I have another destination.”
“What do you expect me to do with these failures?” Telik demanded.
“Keep them alive,” Ero shot over his shoulder. “If they die, our alliance dies.”
Ero strode to Lyn’s cell and paused in the broken wall of glass. He motioned to Siena, an invitation to depart. Siena glanced to Lyn, and the woman nodded reassuringly.
“No need to worry about us,” she said.
Siena held the woman’s gaze but realized she had no choice. Standing, she picked her way to Ero. Just as she stepped through the broken glass, Telik advanced on her, and a needle extended from a seracrete cord. Before she could move, the needle plunged into her leg and filled with blood.
She cried out in shock and pain, and Ero whirled toward him. “What are you doing?” he said.
“I usually take all their blood for examination.” Telik’s expression was cruel. “I’ll only remove half.”
Siena collapsed to the floor, her vision swimming, nausea threatening to make her vomit. The needle suddenly withdrew, but the prick seemed distant, and she had the satisfaction of emptying the contents of her stomach on Telik’s boots. As Telik cursed, she fell into dark oblivion, her last thought of Kensen.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Siena’s consciousness returned slowly, her thoughts scattered and distant. She could not identify where she was or who was present, but she recognized Ero and Skorn arguing, the conversation growing heated.
“You lied to me,” Skorn growled. “You said Telik wasn’t making augments for us.”
“If he’s successful, we’ll have a harvest world worth hundreds of trillions.”
“And if he wasn’t, we’ve just linked our House to a procedure so forbidden that all participants are executed.”
Ero laughed. “Only if we get caught.”
“This is the most reckless thing you’ve ever done,” Skorn snapped.
“She’s an augment,” Ero said. “Don’t you understand what that means? If she has any abilities at all, she’ll be worth a thousand times her previous value—brand or no brand.”
“And if we sell her, the Empire is going to trace her right back to us,” Skorn retorted. “If we didn’t have a Bloodblade after us before, we would certainly have one hunting us now.”
Siena vaguely felt herself floating on a repulsor bed and smelled the scents of trees. Was she still on the biosphere? She tasted bile and remembered throwing up on Telik.
“Relax,” Ero said. “I have no intention of selling this slave—or any of the others. If Telik can make a few augments, he can make thousands. When we flood the market, the Empire can’t come after us.”
“That’s . . . actually brilliant.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Ero said. “I’m reckless. Not stupid. Telik gave me a contact where we can steal a stock of harvest slaves, and when we have them, he’s going to augment them all.”
“And what if the augments are all failures?” Skorn challenged. “What if your little pet here goes mad and tries to kill us?”
“She won’t,” Ero said.
“How could you know that?”
“I just do,” Ero said. “I know you don’t understand, but I know she’s an ally.”
“She’s a slave,” Skorn said flatly.
“One I intend to keep,” Ero replied so firmly that Skorn did not respond immediately.
Siena would have smiled, if she could. It sounded like Ero actually believed in her. It was a dangerous thought, but as incoherent as she was, she could not refuse it. After a lifetime of being told she was worthless, it was strange to feel like she had value.
“You’re going to get me killed, you know that?” Skorn finally said. He sounded more exasperated than angry.
“You can thank me when we’re rich,” Ero said, his tone amused again.
Siena’s mind faded, and the pull of oblivion was too strong to ignore. For a long time she just drifted, her thoughts appearing and disappearing in fragmented dreams.
She dreamed mostly of Kensen, but occasionally she saw her givers or Felis. The moments came and went, fleeting yet somehow tangible. Ero was also present, and Laurik, but it seemed like Ero was angry with Laurik. Siena could not fathom why.
After a time, she gradually returned to awareness. She heard a groan and then realized it came from her own lips. She managed to grasp her thoughts and pull them in, lifting herself from the deepest of slumbers.
She smelled metal and sweat but heard nothing but a distant hum of machinery. Someone put a vial of liquid to her lips and she drank, coughing when it was not horg. Instead, it was drey that touched her lips, sweet and spicy on her tongue. She shifted, and her vision fluttered, gradually resolving into a figure standing over her. She expected Lyn or Rahnora caring for her. To her shock, it was not a slave.
“Welcome back.” Ero’s smile was as enigmatic as ever.
“Where are we?” she croaked.
“Back on the Nova, although it’s not as grimy as it once was, thanks to you.” He offered her the drink, and she shook her head. “It’s been two days,” he said.
“Two days?” Shocked, she tried to sit up, but her brain throbbed, forcing her back onto the bed.
“He took enough blood it nearly killed you.” A simmering anger hardened Ero’s voice. “I had you brought back onboard.” He offered her the drey again, and she jerked her head.
“I’m not supposed to drink drey,” she said.
“You are today. We’re replacing most of your blood since the experiment.”
In a rush, she recalled all that had occurred in the experiment: a burst of blinding white light, others writhing in pain, and then Telik calling them all failures. She grimaced, and her hand came to her forehead.
“The last thing I remember is vomiting on Telik’s boots,” she said.
He grinned. “A moment to remember.”
Siena looked around and found herself in the cargo bay, where she and the other slaves had taken quarters. She was on one of the beds, while Ero sat on a transport crate. She forced herself to sit up and lean against the frame.
“Take it slow,” Ero said.
“Why are you acting like you care?” she asked.
“Because I still require your aid. We’re not done training, remember?”
He turned away, missing her disappointment. She’d hoped his defense of her and the other slaves indicated a changing of his attitude toward humans. He was her owner and had even permitted Telik, a known fugitive of the Krey Empire, to illegally experiment on her. He was not a friend or ally. He was the enemy.
He turned back and offered her a plate. Her eyes widened at the offering. Tilinor cheese from the farms of Hengala, Elistia fruit from Ristian, and an assortment of other food she did not recognize. She shook her head and looked to Ero, who appeared rather smug.
“Skorn raided Telik’s stores while you were enduring the experiment,” he said. “I thought it only prudent you participate in the reward.”
“This is krey food, and it’s worth more than I am.”
“He is rather well stocked.” Ero leaned back in a seat, picking up his own Elistia fruit. “Or more accurately, he was rather well stocked.”
“Why give it to me?”
He raised an eyebrow like it was obvious. “You’re valuable property now that you could be augmented, and I need to keep you alive and healthy. Can’t do that on horg.” He shuddered, and she grinned.
“You’ve tasted horg?” Siena asked.
“My brother, Belgin, once dared me to drink an entire container. Let’s just say it wasn’t a pleasant experience, going down or coming back up. Now eat.”
She picked up an elongated fruit, the soft skin just yielding to her grip. She brought it to her nose and savored the scent, breathing in the faint citrus and sweetness. Then she dug her teeth into the fruit. Firm and juicy, it was better than anything she’d tasted in her entire life.
“
Not so deep or you’ll get the seed.” Ero pulled his apart and showed her the dark seed at the center. “It’s been modified to pull all the bitterness of the fruit into the seed. I wouldn’t recommend tasting it.”
“I take it you tried it?”
“Always willing to trying new flavors.” He took a bite of the fruit, then lifted his feet to rest on a crate and leaned back against another bed.
She realized they were in the cargo hold of the Nova, which was more cluttered than it had been when the slaves had used it for their quarters. Several beds remained, but most had been filled with crates. Skorn had pilfered quite a bit from Telik’s stores.
Still wary, she nevertheless examined the food. Krey didn’t need to eat often, making food and flavors a luxury, usually an expensive one. Cheaper drey contained all the proteins, vitamins, and minerals required for life, and was manufactured across the Empire. More expensive drey and real foods, especially those cultivated on designated harvest worlds, were more valuable than slaves.
She took another bite of the fruit, closing her eyes as the juice tingled her tongue. Secondous Laurik had purchased exotic foods, but slaves were never permitted to taste such expensive wares. She nibbled on the cheese, surprised to find it contained not one flavor, but six in quick succession. Salt, followed by sweet, then spice. The next two were unlike anything she’d tasted but filled her throat and tongue with an inescapable longing for more. The last, a smooth, cool taste, melted the cheese on her tongue.
She sucked in her breath. “That was . . .”
“I know.” He chuckled. “Skorn hates it, so it’s all ours.”
“Ours?”
“Yep. Telik gave you a strict diet, which I have promptly disobeyed.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, wondering why she was not angry. Ero had forced her to endure a horrendous experiment, risked her life by training her with weapons, and now was giving her krey food. She was losing track of the laws she was breaking.
“One other thing.” Ero lifted the lid of a crate, his eyes lighting up at its contents. “I’m supposed to monitor you for any changes.”
“Changes? What sort of changes?”
“Telik didn’t know what type of energy would change your genetic code to make you stronger or grant more stamina, so he bombarded your cells with all known energies. No change was apparent that day, but a change may occur over time.”
“Or it could kill me.”
He glanced her way and shrugged. “Maybe. But who knows? Telik may be the smartest scientist in the Empire, but he’s shockingly stupid.”
Siena allowed a small smile, but a touch of anger had managed to find purchase in her chest, and she slowly set the plate down. She sat all the way up and regarded Ero, who turned to her and raised an eyebrow.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
Her bold question drew a grin from the krey. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t get it. You force me into an experiment. You train me to fight. Why?”
He returned her gaze for long enough that she glanced at the crystal in his wrist, the holoview cortex linked to her earring. Noticing her glance, he released a long sigh.
“I don’t need to explain myself to a slave,” Ero said. He turned and strode to the door. On his way out, he shot over his shoulder, “Finish the meal, get some rest, and get back to training. We’ve got work to do.”
More confused than ever, Siena stared at the door. Was Ero an ally or enemy? His actions indicated he cared nothing for her life, but the way he talked left her thinking he was truly worried for her well-being. It could not be both.
With a sigh, she returned her attention to the best meal of her life, but alone in the cargo bay of Ero’s ship, it was not as tasty as she’d imagined. When she’d eaten her fill, she returned the uneaten portion to the silver crates, storing them for later. Then she restacked the crates and walked toward the door, her steps unsteady. As she reached for the panel, it opened, and another krey stood in the hall.
Skorn.
Siena came to an abrupt halt, and for a long moment they stood in silence. Skorn looked like his brother, right down to the piercing blue eyes. But his hair was pure black, while Ero’s was white.
“Can I be of service?” she asked.
“Ero said you were awake. It’s good to see you survived.”
Skorn’s voice carried a chill, like the frost coming off a crate of frozen goods. She resisted the urge to retreat and held his gaze. Again the seconds passed, and Siena became increasingly uncomfortable.
“Ero gave me the food,” she said. “I’m sorry if—”
“The food does not interest me.”
Skorn entered the room and walked around her, examining her like he would a new gravity drive. Her skin crawled at the inspection. In the entire time she’d been aboard the ship, Skorn had hardly ever spoken to her, or any of the slaves, except for brief orders. What did he want?
Skorn came to a halt in front of her, his eyes dropping to the brand on her throat. “Ero has always had his interests. They come and they fade, lasting until he gets bored, and then he moves on.”
Siena remained silent, but Skorn didn’t seem like he expected a response.
“I can see why he finds you intriguing,” he went on. “You carry a brand, and anyone can see your fire. Before our House fell, you would’ve been exactly the type of slave we eventually put down, because they became too much of a risk.”
Her jaw tightened, and Skorn advanced several steps, coming to a halt in front of her. His blue eyes bored into her like an ion bolt, and she tried to keep her features subdued.
“I know he is training you to fight with a blade,” he said. “But that is a mistake. One day, I know you will turn on us. You will raise your hand against a krey, and blood will be spilled.”
“I would never harm a krey.”
He ignored her protest. “I’ve seen your kind before, and your fate is easy to discern. As you sleep in your bed tonight, consider that I know how to recognize the signs of betrayal. Before you raise a hand against us, I will raise a hand to you. Sleep well . . . slave.”
He turned and departed, his boots brushing the floor as he left. Only when he was gone did Siena allow herself to breathe, her body trembling from fear. Laurik had used the inflictor often, but Skorn could instill fear with a single look.
Siena had no illusions about the purpose of his visit. Skorn could and would kill her, without a second thought. He wanted her to remember that her life belonged to both Ero and Skorn.
She closed her eyes and grappled with her scattered courage before exiting the cargo bay. Afraid to encounter either of the two krey, she shuffled her way to the crates, feeling suddenly weak.
Although she could have claimed any bed, she returned to her own, even removing the crates that had been stacked on the mattress. Tucking the blanket over her neck, she listened to the thrum of the ship that seemed disturbing in the empty room. Sleep came slowly, and when it finally pulled on her consciousness, it came with nightmares. In them, Skorn approached her while she lay helpless. He raised the inflictor and reached for the highest rune, the one that brought pain until death.
“Rebels must die,” he intoned.
In her dream she huddled in fear as the pain coursed through her body, the scene abruptly replaced with Telik’s experiment chamber, the energy bursting through her body, embedding into her bones. She groaned in her sleep, her hand clenching into a fist . . .
Crunch.
A nearby crate crushed inward, the thin material compressing, the recess resembling four fingers. Beneath, another dent appeared, wider than those above, and carrying the vague imprint of a thumb.
Still asleep, Siena relaxed, and the crate, designed to endure significant damage, gradually returned to shape, the hand-shaped imprints smoothing until they soon disappeared, leaving no evidence of the unseen power.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“It’s official. The other fighters think we’re g
lintmongers,” Alina said.
Reklin looked up from where he’d been polishing his blade and frowned. “You can’t be serious.”
Alina had just entered the small room the four called home. She sank into a chair at the side of the room and casually lifted a cell regenerator to a long gash on her waist. The mech glowed pink, the light fusing the tissues back together. Reklin growled and tossed the polishing cloth onto the table before sheathing his broken blade.
“We’ve failed every contest we’ve entered.” He stepped to the door and peered into the square training grounds outside their quarters. “Why would they think we’re glintmongers?”
“Word spread of what you did to Dagger and Broken Horn in the battle ready room,” Worg said, looking up from the table where he had his hammer lance disassembled. It had taken an ion bolt in the latest conflict and damaged the central core. “What did you expect?”
Reklin scowled at the term. In a world devoted to conflict, blood, and death, the owners of the Bone Crucible made their glint from the wagers of viewers. The krey of House Thorn’Vall, current owners of the arena planet, had become experts of oddsmaking, ensuring they always ended on the profitable side of contests. But they were not the only ones that sought to profit from the Crucible. Those that deliberately lost in contests so others could profit were known as glintmongers. The owners of the Bone Crucible had another name for those who threw matches. Targets.
“It’s only the other dakorians that think we’re glintmongers,” Teridon said, then shook his head. “The krey just think we’re cowards.”
“Our contract is owned by House Torn’Ent,” Worg said as he attached the thick shielding plate on the side of the hammer head. “It’s not like we can make glint for our House by losing.”
“Just because we aren’t employed by a House doesn’t mean we cannot help another profit,” Alina said.
Reklin walked to the door and leaned against the side of the opening where he could watch the other dakorians. It was night, and several of them were training in the square, while most were lounging in their own quarters. Some cast looks toward Reklin. Glintmongers were not highly regarded by dakorians, who valued courage and integrity over the pursuit of glint.
