by Cheree Alsop
“You did well, Lady Ardis. Perhaps I can buy him from you when we’re done,” Lady Winden said.
I couldn’t hear Nova’s quiet reply as they passed through another door. Whatever she said shouldn’t have mattered. I was property; I had been so my entire life. Yet the thought of being under Lady Winden’s control wasn’t pleasant at all.
“Come on.”
The guards and Jashen Blu were already helping the old man toward the doors. Kaj winced with every step. Blood colored his pant leg deep red.
“It took you long enough to find us,” he growled when I caught up to them. “You could have prevented this.”
“So, it’s my fault you landed without enough guards to protect your Lady?” I asked, stressing the word.
Kaj had the presence of mind to look embarrassed. “If I would have known what we were up against, I wouldn’t have let her do it.”
“Something tells me she’s not the type to listen to such recommendations when she’s set her mind on something,” I replied offhandedly.
He glanced at me. “You may be smarter than you look.”
I bit back a reply that would no doubt have me thrown back in the cell on the SevenWolf.
Jashu Blu was escorted away by one of the footmen at the next hall. He waved with his two right hands when we parted; I could tell he was concerned about being separated from Kaj, but he had perked up at the mention of food. Kaj and I were led into a set of whitewashed rooms. I immediately recognized the spicy scent of the antiseptic and my stomach turned over.
“What type of healer did you say you have here?” I asked even as I guessed the answer.
“Lady Winden employs two of the best Pathian empaths around,” one of the guards replied with a hint of pride in her voice. “It is an honor, really.”
I shook my head. “I’ll take my chances with the Raths.”
“What’s wrong?” Kaj asked.
“I can’t stand Pathians,” I replied tightly. “They know—”
“Too much?” a voice finished for me.
I spun with a knot of dread in my stomach. The red-skinned, slender men stood side by side in matching robes of bright white. The crystals embedded in a circle around their brow reflected the lights from above with such brilliance that I could barely look at them. They appeared younger than other empaths I had met, but when they nodded, they did so with the same slow movements and gentle smiles as the rest of their race. I would have joined the battle beyond the wall barehanded again in a heartbeat rather than face them.
“What’s wrong, Smiren?” the empath on the right asked. “We’re only here to help.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
The empath on the left bowed his head. “Lady Winden has asked us to tend to Lady Ardis’ guests. We will do everything in our power to see to your comfort and healing.”
Kaj glanced at me again, then away. “I don’t care what he says, I could use all the healing I can get.”
The guards helped him onto the metal table, then backed away to the doors. The fact that they didn’t leave said a great deal.
I crossed my arms in front of my chest and watched the Pathians work on Kaj. They were quick to cut through his pant leg and untie the tourniquet Nova had tied above the wound. I had to give the Captain credit for her actions; if it wasn’t for her, the man would have bled out before we reached the gates.
Kaj sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed one of the empath’s arms.
“Easy,” the man said in his low-toned voice. “Breathe and allow yourself to relax. This will help through the pain.”
The man with the bright red skin pressed a decanter to the man’s lips. Kaj drank the liquid within. My mouth dried at the memory of the flavors he tasted. The Verian’s muscles relaxed visibly.
“That’s it,” the empath said as his companion worked on the wound. “Easy now. You’re going to be just fine.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth in the way of Pathians. “It must have been very painful when you lost your eye. Drezians do not leave such scars lightly.”
I couldn’t help staring. How had the old man survived a fight against a creature even my fellow gladiators would have trembled to face?
“I was a younger man then,” Kaj replied, his words slightly slurred. He turned his remaining purple eye on the man. “Faster, too. He wanted my head instead of just an eye.”
“So you triumphed,” the empath said. “Good for you. Your bravery and courage have saved many lives.”
A tingle ran beneath my skin. Pathians spoke nothing but the truth. It wasn’t in their genetic makeup to lie. If he said the Verian had saved lives, then he had.
Kaj’s eye closed in exhaustion; a quiet snore escaped his lips as the empaths worked. They efficiently removed the bullet, cleaned the wound, stitched it, and bandaged it without the old man stirring. I had to give them credit for the power of their potions.
I didn’t move from where I watched over Kaj. We weren’t friends and had barely become shipmates, yet he had bled to save his Lady. A measure of respect filled me along with the impulse to watch over him to ensure that the Pathians did what they could do help him. A slight headache whispered at the back of my mind; it increased when I glanced at the crystal-embedded tools the empaths used as they worked. I kept my gaze averted.
When they were done, both empaths turned to me.
“Your turn, Smiren.”
I took a step back. “I’m fine.”
“Lady Winden insisted that we see to both of her wounded guests,” the first empath said.
“I don’t need your help.” I lifted my hands. “See, nothing is wrong with me.”
“Your head,” the man on the left said quietly. “You’ve hurt it.” His eyes closed halfway and he said, “And this isn’t the first time.”
I took a few more steps back. “Don’t be assessing me like that. I’m not one of your patients. I don’t need your help.”
I was almost to the door when the sound of metal on metal met my ears. I glanced up to see the guards’ spears crossed in front of the door.
“Lady Winden sent her orders,” the female guard said.
Her companion nodded. “We can’t let you leave until you’ve been seen to,” he said firmly.
I could kill them both; in fact, I could kill them all. It would be a quick job. Snap a neck, steal a spear, then send the rest of the bodies to the floor. Blood would stain the white tiles red. Four more souls wouldn’t add much to the debt I already owed. So why did I hesitate?
“Come now,” one of the Pathians said. “We don’t need to talk about old wounds. We will merely work on those we can heal.”
My headache increased as if it wanted to remind me of my concussion. However, the thought of letting the empaths anywhere near my head made me uneasy.
I glanced at Kaj. I couldn’t just leave him there and killing the Pathians and Lady Winden’s guards would no doubt put a big red flag on whatever Nova was trying to accomplish.
I sucked in a steeling breath. “Fine.”
Both empaths brightened visibly. It was disconcerting to see how much they were looking forward to this. I knew they could feel my hesitation. Was it the dissonance they enjoyed so much, or simply the fact that they had gotten a gladiator to bend to their will?
“Lay on the table,” one of the Pathians intoned as he pointed to one next to where Kaj rested.
“Why?” I asked.
A smile flitted across the other empath’s face. “To allow us to do our job, Smiren. If you persist on questioning every step of the way, we won’t get anything done.”
“Perhaps that is his intention,” the first one said.
“I feel his desire to be insubordinate; it is inborn.”
The two shared a knowing gaze that wormed under my skin. I tried not to show it, but knew they could feel my frustration anyway.
“I’m right here,” I said.
One of the empaths pointed to the table. “But not right there where we need you.
”
As my irritation threatened to overflow into something more violent, I caught another exchange between them. This one was a lifting of the eyebrows, subtle but matched. I realized they were toying with me, seeing how far they could push me. Did they know just how dangerous that was?
As a gladiator, much had been beyond my control to the point that it was the only thing I had, control of myself. It was how I honed my skills, my patience, and my emotions. Time to put that to use.
They cannot see what I choose to hide.
“Do what you wish,” I told them.
I settled on my back on the table and closed my eyes.
“Will you take off your shirt?” one asked.
“No,” I replied without opening my eyes again.
“Very well,” the other sighed.
I heard chairs be pulled out from the panels beneath the table. The sound of their robes settling let me know they had both taken a seat. I took another breath through my nose and let it out through my mouth, willing my heartbeat to slow as I did so.
I pushed away all other feelings, my frustration at not knowing why Nova had purchased me from Roan Seven, my uncertainty about the unknown path of my future, my trained desire to control any situation by brute force, and even the pain in my head that was becoming more pronounced. Instead, I focused on a single image.
A leaf twisted slowly in the air. It didn’t fall or fly, it merely floated in place, suspended by some unknown force. The leaf itself was iridescent, filled with colors beyond those I had beheld by my own eyes. As it turned, light from an unseen source reflected off these colors so that they glowed with such realism I felt as though I could reach out and touch it. The leaf was the symbol I had given long ago for the calm deep inside of me, a calm I had found when my whole world fell apart around me. It centered me now as it had then and everything else faded away.
Both of the empaths stilled. It was a moment before either spoke.
“Very good,” one of the empaths said. “I haven’t seen this kind of subconscious control for decades.”
I refused to wonder how old they really were. Pathians were known for their long lifespans. One didn’t begin practicing as an empath until reaching at least two hundred years on Pathia, and even then they had to pass a great trial of discipline that was kept secret from the rest of the ‘Verse. Perhaps that was why they schooled themselves in healing and emotions. They had time for such nonsense that the rest of us did not.
“He’s strong,” the other said.
“Very,” the first agreed. “Smirens heal faster than most races; because of this, they tend to be more independent.”
“If we can’t get through, how can we help?”
“External, then internal. Remember your training. Ease the body, then soothe the mind.”
Fingers touched my forehead. I tensed and almost lost the image of the leaf. I gritted my teeth, then willed my jaw to relax and focused again on the single image.
The probing was gentle. They tended to the rough work I had made of the gash and added a poultice for healing. I wasn’t entirely relaxed under their ministrations, but enough to keep from jumping every time they touched me.
“I feel the damage of his concussions,” one of the Pathians said. “What will that cause?”
“Erratic behavior, impaired judgment, aggression—”
“We have already seen that,” the first noted.
“Yes,” the second agreed, “though it is hard to tell which behaviors are learned and which are from brain trauma. He may also have problems with balance and control, as well as physical repercussions.” He raised his voice. “Do you have frequent headaches, nausea, or disorientation?”
“Why ask when you can feel it?” the other queried.
I listened also, interested in the answer. I had never seen one empath training another in their work; I had always assumed they came from Pathia already perfect and judgmental.
“Because admitting it is part of the healing process,” the first replied in a calm voice. “Feel the depths of his headache and where it originates behind his eyes. Can you follow in your mind where it resonates at the base of the brain? Another blow and he might lose his sight altogether.”
I pushed up. “I’ve had enough of this. Speculation doesn’t help anyone.”
The empath closest to me held up a hand in protest. “But we haven’t had a chance to begin.”
“Fix the outside, then the inside. I don’t need any of this grint fodder.” I shook my head and ignored the way my headache pounded in response. “I’m finished. Call what you’ve done as good and let me be.”
The second empath, the one I noticed now carried more weight in his gaze, watched me closely. He finally nodded. “Very well. We must give our report to Our Lady.”
As much as I didn’t want to agree, I knew I wouldn’t get out of there with less. “Report what you need to, but don’t embellish.”
The younger empath’s eyes widened with mortification. “We never embellish! It is beyond the professional code of the—”
He stopped at the look on his superior’s face. The Pathian’s eyes had never left mine.
“He’s pushing us much like we were him,” he noted with a curious expression.
His companion’s mouth dropped open. I had never seen such a look of shock on any empath’s face. I very nearly smiled, but knew better than to gloat to those who held my fate in their hands.
“You interest me, Smiren,” the senior empath said. “There is great depth to you and more heart than I would have attributed to a gladiator.” His eyes creased slightly at the corners. “And trust me when I say I never underestimate a patient.”
I took his words to be the compliment that they were and gave him a single nod that was as close to a bow as I could bring myself to make. “Thank you for your care. You can no doubt feel how much I don’t want to be here. Please allow me to go on my way.”
“As you wish,” the man acceded. “Your friend,” he paused and then corrected himself with my inborn reaction to the word, “your acquaintance will awaken in an hour, but he will require at least five days of rest for his leg if he is to return to full strength.”
I nodded. “You have my gratitude.”
The gems on the Pathian’s forehead rose with his surprised expression. “I do. Why is that?”
His question bothered me. “Why not? Is it not customary to be grateful when someone heals another?”
He nodded. “Yes, but again I have never experienced it from a Smiren.”
I shrugged. “You must not have much experience with my race.”
“On the contrary,” he replied, watching me. “I have spent more than a decade in the Bacarian Star System tending to Smiren, Gorians, and the other gladiatorial races.”
Ice spiked through my veins. I gave him a closer look, wondering if he had ever tended to me. Pathians appeared so similar that I could barely tell the one I address from his companion. There was no way to know for sure.
He continued to speak even though I had no wish for him to do so. “You are unique, my son. You may have been cast from the Palladium, but there is another fight awaiting you, one which will change you if you let it, and if you can hold on long enough to survive it. But you must learn when to fight and when to let yourself be beaten.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know,” he replied with a sympathetic smile. He motioned toward the door. “You may take your leave.”
The Amarian guards drew back their spears and opened the door. I glanced once at Kaj. He appeared to be resting peacefully and I had no inclination to stay any longer in the presence of the confounding Pathian. There wasn’t time for his mind games; yet as I walked down the hall with my armed escort, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he hadn’t been toying with me to assess my emotions as he had earlier. He knew a truth I didn’t understand.
I pushed all thoughts of the empaths aside. They had gotten in my head, though not i
n the way I had expected, and I refused to let them toy with my emotions any longer.
“Where are we off to?” I asked in an amiable tone.
Neither guard spoke.
I turned so I was walking backwards and gave the guard on my left the smile most women couldn’t resist. A blush of red colored her cheeks and she smiled in return.
“Stop that,” her companion barked.
“What?” I asked innocently. “I’m just smiling. Is there a law here against that? It can’t hurt to be nice.”
He glowered at the other guard. She gave him an embarrassed shrug. “I don’t see how it hurts anything.”
He rolled his eyes. “He’s a Smiren. Do you really want him to snap your spear in half and shove both pieces down your gullet?”
This sobered both of us. I turned back around and continued walking without a word. Reputations are a pain.
Chapter Six
NOVA
Nova tried to suppress her guilt when Kove was escorted into the dining hall. She understood the necessity of armed guards, but it felt a bit pointless. From the warden’s accounting of his fighting ability and the recordings aboard the SevenWolf, if Kovak did want to attack them, a few spears weren’t about to stop him.
The thought sent a shiver down Nova’s spine at the same moment her eyes met Kovak’s. He stopped halfway across the floor, much to the irritation of the guards who flanked him. The surprise on his face was tempered by the way his head tipped slightly to the right. Her heart gave a double beat when she realized he was looking her up and down, taking in the deep maroon evening dress and the light maroon slippers Lady Winden had been so kind to lend her. It had felt so wonderful to get out of her stained and torn spacesuit. She hadn’t thought the gladiator’s reaction would appear much the same way she had felt when she saw him shaven and clean for the first time a few hours before.
He bowed far lower than the situation dictated. “My Ladies,” he said.
Nova caught a hint of mocking in Kovak’s gaze when he rose as if he was laughing at himself; yet when he met her eyes again, his brow furrowed and his mouth twisted into his rakish smile. He didn’t say anything, which was probably for the best given his rank, but she wanted him to. At that moment she longed for nothing more than to know what it was that made him keep glancing at her. Was the dress too much? Maybe he preferred his women in uniform. Why did she care what he preferred? She told herself it was merely to understand him better for her plan, but a lingering thought whispered that it was more than that.
