by Tenaya Jayne
Asher broke into her peripheral vision. He looked at her, and then at Shreve, and back at her again, a smug smile on his lips. “That took you down a notch, missy. If you’re not going to listen to me, perhaps you’ll listen to him.”
Shreve and Sabra looked at him. “What?” they said simultaneously.
“Shreve is going to help train you. Isn’t that right?” Asher looked pointedly at him.
“Oh… Yes. I’m going to help.”
Sabra fought to pull herself together. “Really? What qualifies you?” she challenged.
He smiled again. She groaned internally. So not fair. How could anyone be so gorgeous? It should be illegal.
Shreve took a few steps back from her. “I guess there’s only one way to prove it to you. Attack me.”
“Oh, I’ll attack you,” she said, only her voice laced the words with innuendo and not the bravado she intended.
He raised one eyebrow, a small amount of surprise in his emerald eyes at the inflection in her words. She tried to school her brain. This was impossible. She couldn’t fight him, she realized. Her mind raced along the reality if she charged at him. They would touch. His touch would scatter her focus, and he’d beat her easily, even if he wasn’t a great fighter. It wouldn’t work. The whole thing would just turn into foreplay.
She took a deep breath, stepped back, and looked at Asher. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m sorry for being insolent to you. That was wrong of me. You’ve put me in my place. But he can’t train me. It would be counterproductive.”
“Oh?” Asher asked.
She scowled at him. These were the moments it sucked being a wolf. The animal side of them gave so much away. “I can’t focus, Asher! There’s too many damn pheromones in the air.”
“I thought the distraction would be a good lesson. Teach you to fight through such things.”
“Sure, only I’m not going to be fighting him in the tournament. I know who I’m fighting then, and I’m not attracted to any of them. This—“ she gestured at Shreve “—fighting him won’t teach me how to survive. No offense,” she added curtly to Shreve, who just blinked at her with a bemused expression on his face.
Asher looked at Shreve and shrugged. “She’s probably right. But I still think you could help.”
“How?” he asked.
“You seem to know your weapons. You improved the whip. You brought the katana. From your observations, what do you think she can do to improve?”
Shreve crossed his arms and gazed at her. “She’s having too much fun. She’s a natural fighter. Strong desire and instinct, but she’s obviously enjoying her training.”
“What’s wrong with that?” she countered.
“Only that you seem to forget that you’re fighting for your life.”
“I will be.”
“No.” His voice was forceful. “Your head is in the wrong place. Every time you come here to train, you must feel your mortality. Realize every second is a battle, one that you can lose. You’re overconfident. Your real opponents will be fighting for their lives, too. Bones, tissue, breath, and blood. One mistake, and your life is over. It only takes a second.”
She looked at the ground, letting his words sink deep inside her mind. It was embarrassing how right he was. She wanted to impress him, but she’d obviously fallen short. She determined to make up for that in the future. She took her lumps and nodded. “You’re right… Thank you.”
She looked back up into his eyes. A well of sorrow lived there. It hurt her to see it. The light of the dawn encroached on them. She shook herself.
“I have to get home… Will I see you tonight?”
“It’s not a good idea, Sabra,” Shreve said.
“That’s not what I asked.”
He smiled in a hopeless kind of way. “Probably.”
Reluctantly, she turned and ran back to the Lair, her stomach sinking deeper with each stride. She wanted to stay there, with him. Her stride beat the ground as she ran. She pouted internally. Back to reality. Stupid, misogynistic, heartless reality.
Chapter Ten
Shreve watched Sabra run away until he couldn’t see her anymore. Asher came up behind him and slapped him companionably on the back.
“She heard you. I can tell when she is really listening, and she was listening. Those were wise words. She needed them.”
He turned and looked down at Asher.
He smiled at Shreve’s tortured expression. “Sit down, son. We need to talk.”
He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “It will take a while.”
“I’m sure it will.”
They sat on blocks from a crumbled foundation, facing each other.
“I’m going to tell you everything, Asher. I only ask that you wait until I am finished before you pass judgment on me. It will be hard. Some of my story is going to anger you.”
Asher crossed his ankles, laced his fingers over his stomach, and nodded. “Go on. I’ll do my best to keep a cool head.”
“I wasn’t born in Regia. I wasn’t born at all, actually. I was engineered by the wizards. I’m the clone of a monster, and for most of my life, I believed the monster to be my father. I followed him in whatever he did. He used me as an instrument of evil and pain. It was my life. I didn’t know anything else…I’m going to show you my face, the face of my original, but before I do, I have to plead with you to remember this: I am not him! I disavow him.”
This was probably the end, Shreve thought. He pushed ahead, taking a deep breath, and relaxing his face so his features slid back. Asher scrambled to his feet, his eyes bugging.
“Copernicus,” he wheezed.
Shreve instantly shifted his face back and held up his hands. “I am not him,” he said again. “Remember what I said. Please! Remember how you decided to trust me. Your instinct, you said. I repent of my previous life. I renounced Copernicus before he died. That’s how I got Forest’s sword. I saved her life more than once. I rescued her from him.”
Asher pulled a knife from his belt and thrust it against Shreve’s neck. Shreve looked into his eyes. He made no move to defend himself.
“Go ahead, if you must. I understand. But you better cut really deep.”
“Do you care nothing for your own life?” Asher demanded.
“I care more than I can express. I don’t have much time left. My DNA is old, and I am beginning to deteriorate. Even if you don’t kill me now, I will die soon…I’m trying to learn what is good and right. Trying to live it while I can. I’m trying to discover who I really am, so I might know myself before I die. Do you believe it is too late for me, Asher? I respect you. You are a good man. If you say there is no hope, then I will trust there is none, and I will feel grateful to you when you slit my throat.”
Asher blinked and slowly pulled his knife back. He sat back down and put his head in his hands. “You’re still alive. So there’s hope.” He blew out a heavy breath. “Of all the blasted things on the face of Regia that I’ve encountered in my long life, you take the cake.”
Shreve’s vision blurred with tears as hope surged in his heart. “Will you help me? Show me how to be a good man?”
He sighed again and nodded. “As best as I can. Tell me the rest. Tell me everything.”
Shreve told him all about his life. They talked long into the afternoon. Asher’s demeanor grew easier with him over the hours until Sabra finally entered their conversation.
“You said you owed her a debt. What did you mean by that?”
“I was there when her sister died. I saw it happen, and I didn’t stop it. In truth, it was the moment that pushed me over the edge and made me decide to leave Copernicus. I was left alone to clean up and take care of the body, then Sabra came…” Emotion choked him, and he couldn’t continue for a moment. “I had to watch her grief. I had to listen to her heart break.”
“Did she see you?”
“Yes. We spoke briefly.”
“Damn, Shreve. And now you love her.”
/> “I do?”
“What do you think all that torture is you said you felt?”
“Oh…” he said, slowly. “I don’t know anything about that…I don’t know how…”
“Well, maybe you’re not quite there yet. You obviously care about her, and you two have plenty of chemistry. Hell, I could’ve sworn I saw heat waves coming off the pair of you earlier today. Love is not that far of a leap from where you are.”
“It’s a bad idea.”
Asher barked out a laugh. “Love is always a bad idea, except it’s not an idea at all.”
“What do I do?”
“You’ve got to tell her the truth of who you are. What you feel for her and what she feels for you cannot stand on a lie.”
“What does she feel for me?”
“That I don’t know beyond what she admitted today. She’s attracted to you; you shared a connection in wolf form. You’ll have to get the rest from her, but there’s more in your way than your identity, how she’s going to respond to it, and the fact that you’re dying.”
“There’s more than that?”
“Yeah, there’s Gahu. Her betrothed.”
Shreve saw red, and his eyes burned. It was like his insides spontaneously combusted. He was instantly on his feet.
“Whoa, calm down there. It’s arranged, not a love match. And she’s indifferent to him, so much, in fact, that he plans to fight in the tournament, and she still plans to go ahead and fight, too.”
Shreve took a deep breath and then another. The fire inside him didn’t go out, but his eyes cleared. He was mollified slightly that Asher said she didn’t love the guy. “I don’t understand this tournament. Explain it.”
Asher told him about it and the reasons she was fighting, to change things for the she-wolves. He told him about their culture, and that he agreed with Sabra about what was wrong with it.
“That’s why I decided to train her. And that’s why it has to be in private.”
Shreve paced, agitated. “The whole thing is so stupid. Physical fighting, who’s the strongest gets to be the leader. Why would anyone believe the biggest muscles equate to leadership skills? Sabra should be the leader. She has a strong heart, and strong ideas. Who cares if she’s female?”
“Most of them do. No one else will support her. Well, none of the men, at least. As soon as she proclaimed she was going to fight, her brother rushed to arrange her with Gahu. And Gahu is a fool. He’s not the worst choice, and he’s a strong soldier, but he wants to hold her down, crush her spirit.”
“Don’t tell me anything else about him. Evil rises in me. I already want to kill him. I don’t know how much self-control I have.”
Instead of recoiling away from him and his pronouncement of murderous intention, Asher chuckled. “Yeah, you’re not too far away from loving her…I can see you’re confused. That’s actually a very natural reaction.”
“It is?” Shreve was shocked.
“I remember when I was first in love. If anyone would have told me some other guy had claimed my girl and was trying to stomp everything I loved about her, damn straight, I’d want blood.”
“Interesting,” Shreve said thoughtfully. “Again, I don’t trust myself. So don’t tell me any more about him.”
“Sure. No problem.”
“Does she have a real chance in the tournament? You know her competition.”
“I think she has a chance—you’ve helped with that.”
“I need to see them, watch them. Tell me their names.”
Asher frowned. “How are you going to watch them?”
“I can do more than just shift. I can mimic real individuals, even females. I could hide in plain sight. You could show me where to go and who to impersonate.”
“You’ve got to prove that to me. I need to see it.”
Shreve shifted into a perfect likeness of Asher.
The old wolf threw his head back and guffawed loudly. “Okay. I’m sold. I’ll take you in and direct you. But you cannot engage with these people. Agreed?”
Shreve shifted back. “Agreed. I’ll follow your full advice. Of course, I don’t need to go this way at all. It’s a better idea for me to just go invisible. I’ll just shadow you.”
“Maybe a better idea this time. Give you the lay of things and a feel of the people. But this has to be quick. Some will be able to sense the presence of an elf. A shifter would blend better because our chemical makeup is so similar to theirs.”
“Don’t worry. If things get dicey, I can just open a portal and escape. Course I’m trying not to travel like that. It seems to put undue strain on my heart.”
Asher pursed his lips. “You asked me to help you become a good man. Here’s my first bit of advice. You are unlimited in your abilities. You can go anywhere and be anything. It might be hard, but respect others limitations. Most importantly, respect their boundaries.”
“Clarify, please.”
“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. You could slip undetected into Sabra’s bedroom, for example. Don’t.”
Shreve smiled obscenely wide.
“I’m going to shut up now, before I give you any more bad ideas,” Asher said, wagging his finger at him. “Seriously, don’t do that.”
He continued to smile. “I won’t, unless she asks me to.”
Asher grunted. “Ready?”
“Lead on,” Shreve said, his appearance fading into nothing.
Asher walked at a natural pace while he followed, taking in everything he saw and heard. Small ramshackle homes littered the outlying areas. It was clear these were the lower class. The whole area looked depressed. Despite their obvious poverty, the children played happily and loud. Shreve found himself unconsciously smiling. He would have enjoyed just standing and watching them. They were adorable and bursting with life and joy.
He wished each one of them well in his heart as he passed them. They were too young to know how blessed they were. That they were born, had families, and prospects. He envied them.
Asher led him to what looked like the main gathering place. People milled around, talking. He noticed immediately that the women and men were segregated. Anger sparked in him as they passed a couple of women. As soon as they saw Asher walking by, they all quieted and turned their eyes to the ground and hung their heads.
He imagined Sabra having to behave in such a way because the culture dictated it. He shook his head, disgusted. He couldn’t think any more about that right now.
“I see Silhon and his gang of puppies up ahead. Pay attention to them. A few of them are fighting in the tournament,” Asher said under his breath.
Shreve looked at the group of young men. He didn’t need to be told which one was Silhon. Silhon swaggered like he was the emperor. His very pores oozed the arrogant stench of spoiled, inherited privilege. Nonetheless, he was fairly tall and muscled. Shreve didn’t need to see him fight to gage his skill. In a fight against Sabra, not counting for situational circumstances but just on ability alone, she would win.
Then his eyes snapped onto one of the young men trailing behind Silhon. His blood ran cold at the sight of Gareth. Shreve grabbed Asher’s arm.
“Is Gareth fighting in the tournament?” he whispered in Asher’s ear.
Asher nodded his head in a quick little jerk. “How do you know him?”
“We need to talk about this. Let’s go back to the shifter colony,” Shreve said. “Quickly, please.”
“What’s the big deal?” Asher asked as soon as they were back and Shreve became visible again. “Gareth will be no challenge to Sabra. I’ve seen him spar before. He’s sloppy, unskilled.”
“You’re wrong. That’s a ruse. I know Gareth. He’s hiding, quite effectively, behind that peacock, Silhon. Let me guess, after Copernicus died, he came home claiming he’d been forced into the Aluka Circle against his will?”
“Yeah. There were a few others besides him. No one likes to talk about that.”
“The others probably were forced
and turned into slaves, but not Gareth. Gareth came freely. And he’s far from sloppy and unskilled. He was one of Copernicus’ favorites. Copernicus had a team of the most vicious and deadly killers within the Circle. I’ve watched him in action… There’s no way, no matter how good she might get, that Sabra can beat him. No way at all. Against him, she’ll die very quickly.”
“Shit. Well I guess that’s that. She’s going to have to drop out.” He heaved a great sigh. “I don’t know that she’ll listen to me.”
“She has to,” Shreve said flatly. “There’s no choice.”
Asher shook his head. “I don’t think it will make any difference to her. I truly think she’d rather die in the tournament than fall in line with the life Gahu has planned for her… You know how she is.”
“I won’t let her.”
“Really?” he scoffed. “That’s just the thing, Shreve. Just the attitude that makes her dig in her heels. A man ordering her about.”
He took a moment to think about it. Asher was right. “I think you’re going to have to talk to her about it. I…I’ll mess it up. Just the thought of her up against Gareth makes me feel desperate, panicked.”
Asher put his hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Don’t worry. There’s still two and a half months before the tournament. A lot can happen in that time. We’ll persuade her. I promise.”
Shreve exhaled. “Okay. That’s good. We’ll figure it out in the time in between.”
“Don’t talk to her about this tonight.”
“Why?”
“You’ve got to tell her who you are before you go any further in your relationship. Trust me. Get the truth out there and let the dust settle from it first.”
“All right.” He was dejected. “I’ll trust your advice.”
Asher left for home as the evening smeared across the sky like dancing brushstrokes. It was amazing to Shreve that he had a friend. He was learning quickly how strong the emotion and loyalty could be between friends. What he felt for Sabra was different, but there were elements that were the same.
He watched the moon climb up the sky and felt love for Regia, thankful that he would be able to die here and not in some other world. He just had to hang on long enough to see Sabra through this hurtle in her life. He breathed deep, feeling the many pieces of his makeup. If only he was just one thing. If only he wasn’t so fragmented. If only he had his own face. A face that belonged to no one but him. One that carried no judgment or fear. To live and just be.
