by Cheree Alsop
He continued his pacing. Each time he passed the bed, he glanced her way. The last time he did so, the dark shadows beneath his eyes showed his exhaustion. Why he didn’t sit in a chair to watch over her was beyond her. The man walked with a stealthy, almost soundless tread. His skull beetle tattoos looked like shadows upon his arms. Others marked his back and chest in shapes she didn’t recognize, but they flowed with the curves of his muscles in a way that made them appear even more fierce.
Nova made her eyes close again. Tomorrow was going to be a crazy day. She needed to sleep. She willed her tense muscles to relax. Her thoughts slowed out of sheer exhaustion. Her mind swept quietly into darkness.
The sound of a footstep on the floor made her tense. A whisper made her want to cry out, but she couldn’t open her mouth. The silver glint of daggers shone in her eyes, but she couldn’t move a muscle. She was frozen, helpless, only able to watch as the dark shadows advanced to her bed. A knife rose. A scream tore from her as it plummeted into her chest.
“Nova, you’re alright.”
Strong arms enveloped her. Nova held onto them as her body shook. A sob wracked her shoulders and then another. Tears streamed down her face. She was just one person against the Universe. A single girl trying to make things right, but it felt as though everything was against her. It felt as though no matter what she did, she was going to fail.
“Just breathe.”
Nova realized she was clinging to him so hard her fingernails were probably cutting into his arm. She willed her muscles to relax. A hand was touching her hair, brushing through it softly, reassuringly. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had been so kind. It filled her with such guilt she could barely breathe.
“I-I’m alright now,” she said.
Kovak hesitated, then loosened his hold. That split second revealed something about his character, something she felt she could understand. Perhaps it had been a long time since someone had been kind to him, too.
Tears burned in her eyes at the thought, but she refused to let them fall. She sat up out of his arms completely. He scooted back on the edge of the bed and watched her, his dark eyes unreadable.
“Nightmares can be cruel,” he said in a knowing tone.
His understanding made her nod. “I don’t want to sleep, but tomorrow is going to be a long today.”
“Today was as well,” he said.
She saw it there, the lowering of his walls, the way he admitted to the exhaustion she read in his eyes. He was willing to stand guard over her the entire night and to comfort her when night terrors awoke her from sleep, but he was also suffering from a bad concussion and blood loss. Sleeping while he stayed awake was completely selfish.
“I-I think I would sleep better if you were on the bed.” At his widening eyes, she quickly said, “On the other side above the blankets, with those pillows between us.” He watched her without a word. She felt the heat rise to her face and she lowered her gaze. “Because we’re both so tired, I can’t ask you to stay awake and watch over me.”
“It’s my duty,” Kovak began as he rose to his feet.
She cut him off with the words she knew he wouldn’t argue. “I think having you there would keep the nightmares away.”
He studied her, his thoughts flitting past his eyes so quickly she wished she could interpret what he was thinking. He finally gave a single nod.
Slowly, with a careful grace, Kovak crossed to the other side of the bed. He set the pillows in a line between them, leaving one for himself. She watched him without a word. His chest had stopped bleeding as well as his back. She knew she should be worried about the marks it would leave on the blankets, but she was too tired to care. He glanced once more at her, then lowered himself on top of the thick quilts.
A groan escaped him. He shot her an embarrassed look. “This is a very comfortable bed.”
That brought a smile to her lips. “Don’t try to stay awake. I saw the vases you put up in case the window or doors open. We’re safe.”
She knew she sounded as if she was trying to convince herself, but he nodded. “We are.”
Their eyes held for a moment across the pillows. With her Cadonian blood, she could easily see his features, the way his face was haggard from battle, the red angry welt across the wound of his shoulder. He gave her a half-smile that appeared apologetic and grateful at the same time before he turned his face back toward the ceiling. She smiled back even though he couldn’t see her and curled on her side to sleep.
This time the nightmares stayed at bay. When she awoke, she found herself halfway across the bed. A surge of horror filled her when she realized her arm had somehow been flung over the pillows and her hand rested on Kovak’s chest. His eyes were closed and his breathing steady beneath her palm. There was an expression of peace on his face he didn’t show when he was awake.
Up to that point, the gladiator had always been either smiling his rogue pirate smile or stonewalled so that no emotion showed through. Only his dark eyes gave anything away when he looked like that. Asleep, though, he looked younger, closer to her age. His scars appeared less stark in the dim light that drifted through the window. As unusual as it was to have a stranger on her bed, they had shared enough that she felt like she knew him. She had never been so close to any man besides her brother and father. Why did she feel so comfortable with Kovak?
The voice in the back of her mind whispered that less than a week ago he had been a prisoner; she should be much more careful. She lifted her hand with the hope that he was asleep and he wouldn’t notice. He turned his head at the movement and gave her his rakish smile.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
The smile covered any of the peace that had been there before. It was a shield even more effective than any armor he would wear in battle. It both hid his true emotions from view and lashed out with enough force to disarm and set those around him off kilter. It bothered and amazed her.
She sat up and turned away from him. She stayed that way as he rose and pulled on his shirt. As much as she wanted to talk to him, she couldn’t think of anything to say. The thought of seeing the bloody rags or any other reminder of last night turned her stomach. She kept her gaze carefully averted.
“I’ll wait in the sitting room.” His tone was unreadable.
He left and shut the door behind him.
Nova allowed herself a sigh and pulled the bell pull.
“It’s lovely to see you both again,” Lady Winden greeted when they reached the dining hall.
Another lavish spread awaited them. Nova glanced at Kovak, but he shook his head without meeting her gaze and stood along with the other guards.
“Surely you will break your fast with us Ladies, Gladiator,” Lady Winden said in a teasing tone.
Kovak didn’t meet her eyes. His face was impassive, but Nova could see the rage simmering within his lowered gaze. The woman had ordered an attack in the middle of the night on the pretense of proving his loyalty. It went far beyond anything Nova would have imagined Lady Winden to do. She couldn’t blame him in the least.
“Thank you for the invitation, My Lady, but I regretfully decline. I seldom have an appetite after taking lives.”
To Nova’s dismay, Lady Winden burst out laughing.
“He is simply hilarious! You have got to keep him, Lady Ardis.” She winked. “Or I will. Just inform me when he has fulfilled your purposes.”
Nova found that with Kovak’s reminder, she didn’t have much of an appetite, either. She excused herself from the table as soon as possible, anxious to see her crew again and escape from Lorv’s oppressive atmosphere. The voice in the back of her mind whispered that it wasn’t so much a planetary problem as a problem with the current company.
“You’re to be escorted out of the walls. It won’t due to have you attacked again in such a short time,” Lady Winden said with another smile that didn’t show a hint of apology. Her smile deepened. “I would recommend bringing a few more soldiers next time.”
> “I’ll keep that in mind,” Nova replied in a level tone.
Lady Winden’s gaze glittered as if she knew just how she pushed at Nova’s buttons. “I wish I was going with you. I absolutely love a ball. But you know how it is here.”
Nova nodded. “When you have a time of peace, you must come with me.”
Lady Winden sighed as if her hardships were too heavy. “Someday, things will calm down again. Until then, enjoy your ball and,” she grinned at Kovak, “your gladiator.” She winked at Nova and said, “And don’t forget that little item I gave you. It will make all the difference when the time comes.”
Kovak didn’t look at her when she spoke about him, but Nova saw his eyes tighten slightly. She was just as anxious as he appeared to be off the planet and far away from Lorv’s Lady.
Nova’s heart soared when Kaj and Jashu Blu met them at the palace doors. The butler looked tired and limped with the assistance of a cane in one hand and Jashu Blu on the other, but his smile was warm.
“Did you sleep well, My Lady?” he asked.
Nova and Kovak exchanged a glance. Nova nodded. “Very well, thank you. But I miss my bed aboard the SevenWolf.”
“Don’t we all,” the older man answered.
Jashu Blu scooped up a small rock.
“For your collection?” Kaj asked.
The young man nodded. “It’ll fit in beautifully, don’t you think?”
“I think it’s perfect,” Nova replied.
Chapter Nine
KOVE
I put my hand to the panel beside the door to my quarters.
“Welcome Smiren Scum,” the panel said before sliding open.
A small smile crossed my face when I stepped inside. I should have thanked Kaj when he programmed it. Being insulted before going to bed suited me.
My chest tightened when the door shut behind me. I tried to identify the emotion as I walked through the main room to the bedroom. I paused in the doorway when I realized what it was. I felt like I was home.
It made no sense. I told myself they weren’t my rooms. The panel beside the door didn’t know what it was talking about. I had been purchased; I could be sold just as easily and the rooms would be assigned to someone else. The Smiren Scum would move on and nobody would be the wiser as to who had slept in the bed before them.
Regardless, it felt too familiar to grab an old uniform shirt and a clean pair of pants from the closet. I had to give the designers credit. They were loose enough to not bind when I fought and the dark colors hid blood to a decent amount. I was pretty sure that wasn’t their intentions, but I was happy to give them credit for it.
I hadn’t slept much in two days. My headache was beginning to worsen to the point that light made me wince, and blood loss from my shoulder was no doubt doing me no good. All I wanted to do was sleep, but there was something that had to be done first. I pulled out the knife I had swiped from the cafeteria and walked to the bathroom.
By my count, eighteen souls had lost their lives at my hands on Lorv. The souls of the twelve I had stopped from attacking Nova and her crew along with the six Lady Winden had sent to Nova’s room weighed heavily on me. The only way to lighten the burden was to perform the sacred ritual. I had done it more times than I could count, though not for so many souls at once. However, I knew I wouldn’t be able to truly rest until it was done.
I washed and dried the knife on a clean towel, then sat down on the bathroom floor and spread it beside me. Usually I would sit on a mat of reeds and use a yaken wool rag for cleanup, but neither were available. I hoped whoever cleaned the laundry aboard the SevenWolf would forgive me.
I lifted my left foot and rested it on the knee of my other leg. The sight of the slight scars, cross-thatched along my instep and higher up the ankle were reassuring. They symbolized the lives I had taken during my life as gladiator of the Bacarian System. Some had healed completely to leave little more than dents, but others were plain to see, small x’s that memorialized lives bled out in the dust of the arena battle floor. I didn’t regret killing them because I didn’t regret not dying at their hands; but for a long time, I hadn’t been able to let go of the weight of their deaths.
I had searched through many different religions, practices, and cultures until I found the Essen al Tirin, the sacred ritual of the Tirimithian tribe that translated essentially to Soul becomes Self. When I put the practice to work, the release I felt had allowed me to sleep for the first time in weeks, which was hard on a sixteen-year-old. I had vowed from then forward to never let a soul linger unmarked, for in the ritual we would both find peace.
I pictured my younger self as I whispered the sacred words. I had translated them to the common Tecotian tongue for simplicity, and because Tirimithian sounds didn’t translate to the same meaning for my heart. I closed my eyes and pictured the bodies that had lain around me after defending Nova, Jashu Blu, and Kaj. I allowed myself to feel sorrow for their deaths. I didn’t mourn the passing of those who wanted to kill Nova, but I mourned for their loved ones left behind, for children whose parents would never see them grown, for parents who had outlived those who littered the blue desert ground. In that way, death wasn’t fair; in that way, I could feel sorrow for the fallen.
“Your eyes are closed, you breathe no more; your soul no longer sings. Your heart is silent, your thoughts are still; your bones are simply things. No longer bound to flesh and blood, your soul has been set free; accept my sacrifice for you and release yourself from me.” I took a breath and finished with the most important words, “Blood for your blood, pain for your suffering, and a scar for your soul. You will be remembered.”
I pressed the point of the knife to my flesh about two inches above my heel where the last mark stopped. I gritted my teeth at the feeling of the metal biting into my skin. Blood dripped down to the towel beneath me. I turned the knife and finished the x. A sigh escaped me at the relief I felt when it was complete. I cleaned the knife, then repeated the words again for the second soul.
“Kovak, are you in here?”
I came to on the cold bathroom floor. A gasp sounded, followed by the heavy sound of knees dropping to the floor at my side.
“Kovak, are you alright? You’re bleeding everywhere!”
I tipped my head to the right. Nova’s worried face blocked out the light from the ceiling.
“I’m fine,” I said.
I started to rise, but lightheadedness swarmed me with such intensity I had to give up.
“Careful,” Nova told me. “You’ve lost way too much blood.” Her eyes roamed to my feet.
I watched her, centering myself with the gentle curve of her cheekbone and the way her dark hair was swept over one pointed ear.
“Are those…did you do those?” she asked quietly.
I realized the knife was still in my hand. I let it fall to the floor. The clatter was enough of an answer.
Nova let out a breath. “Eighteen,” she said, her tone unreadable. Her eyebrows pulled together. “Eighteen symbols. For what?” She glanced back down at me and her eyes widened knowingly. “For the men and women you killed.”
I nodded and tried to push up to a sitting position, but my head wouldn’t have it. I put a hand to it to stop the pounding.
“Kove, you’ve already lost too much blood to do something like this. You’re going to put yourself into shock.”
A smile touched my lips at her scolding tone. “I know what I can take.”
The fact that I was lying on the floor talking up to her said otherwise, but I pushed away the thought.
Nova shook her head, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she rose and put a towel in the sink. The sound of the water running over the cloth reminded me of how thirsty I was. When she returned, I could only watch as she knelt by my feet again.
“You’re going to get an infection if you’re not careful,” she said. She kept her tone light as she put the towel to my stained skin.
I nearly jumped at the cold compress, but willed
my muscles to relax.
“I admit that I don’t understand this, but I’ve heard of such things about gladiators before.” She kept her eyes on my left foot as she carefully wiped around the fresh cuts.
The fact that she had researched gladiators brought me mixed emotions.
“Something about death, isn’t it? About forgiveness for those you killed?”
She glanced at me. I shook my head and then put a hand over my eyes to shield them from the blinding light overhead.
“It’s a remembrance. Nobody wants to be forgotten.” I sucked in a breath as she cleaned a surprisingly ticklish area and said tightly, “If I remember them on my skin, their soul can rest in peace knowing they won’t be forgotten.”
She went back to the sink and rinsed out the towel. When she returned, she focused on my right foot. “But why your feet?” she asked. “Wouldn’t that put you at a disadvantage during your next fight?”
I nodded without opening my eyes. “To a gladiator, the feet are the most important part of any defense. They are your foundation, your ability to fight or flee, your strength. Good footing can determine the winner in a fight.”
She wiped the rag carefully around my instep. “So you choose to weaken yourself in their name? That makes no sense.”
Her words made me open my eyes again. I kept a hand raised to chase away the blinding light. “I choose to add them to my stability. I was strong enough to vanquish my foe, and so their soul becomes a part of my foundation.”
She nodded with a thoughtful expression. “Sort of like how some gladiators eat the heart of their enemy or add a bone from their body into their armor.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “But hearts are chewy and the bone part gets messy, not to mention bone armor loses its durability as it ages. I got tired of killing just to keep my helm fresh.”
She watched me for a moment, and then her eyes creased at the corners. “You’re joking.”
