“That’s a little more than I expected,” Nada said, then frowned. “What do the dragons get out of this deal?”
“I’ve wondered the same thing. Our dragons have never given us a clear answer. In my opinion, they are stuck in the Astral Plane the way most humans are stuck in the physical realm. When they join with us, they get a window into the material world.” Coraolis glanced at Julia, who nodded along. “I think they feel the way we do about the bond. Once you join with a dragon, you never feel alone again.”
“But it isn’t invasive,” Julia added with haste. “The dragon is as present as you want him to be. You can still have your private moments, like opening and closing a door.”
“Sorry to pressure you, but we need to know your answer,” Coraolis said. “If your answer is no, we can spare no time and need to find someone else. We have to move fast, the Pirr already have numbers and time on us, and we can’t lose this race.”
“I’ll go. Not even a question for me.” Nada stood. “I left people on Cavey. Friends. I could use a power-up before we go back for them…if they’ve survived.”
Coraolis sagged with relief, and he spied the same reflected in Julia’s eyes. There were other candidates, but the sooner this was settled, the sooner they could go. “All right! This is excellent.” He smiled, then gestured at the casserole on the table. “Let’s eat while it’s still hot, then we’ll go over the details. We leave in two days, so do whatever you have to do to be ready.”
Four
Khiann Xoa sat in meditation in her windowless chamber. She did not enter the Astral Plane; that went against the rules of her imprisonment. Clearing her mind of worries had proven impossible, so she focused on each one, breaking them into manageable parts—those under her control at least.
To her leaders, allowing Dante and Jack to escape was an untenable failure. The Mystics from Earth had seen the ritual in time to warn the humans. Her job was to keep them away from the Stone Tower. Khiann said nothing when they accused her of incompetence, preferring shame to the truth. She had betrayed her own people.
Khiann made sure the humans warned their home planet of the impending attack. She aided their escape in her own ship. She didn’t regret her actions. If her people had succeeded, Earth would be a lifeless ball of mud. It was one thing to attack military targets; the genocide of a species by destroying their home planet was quite another.
Humans weren’t enemies of the Pirr. Yet it wasn’t her place to declare that. She was serving her punishment for saving her race. If the humans survived the attack, they could potentially push the Pirr back to releasing the Wyrms. The Pirr would doom themselves. Besides, humans had something the Pirr would never have.
An alliance with dragons.
Her silence damned her. Khiann’s permanent dismissal from the military made her shunned by all she met. Her new quarters provided by the Archon—as no Pirr went without a home—gave her no comfort. The only difference between it and a prison cell was that she was free to leave.
The door opened, and she hardly had time to stand before two soldiers took her by the arms and pulled her to her feet, turning her so that all three faced the door. A young squad leader stood just inside her room, a sneer disfiguring his handsome face.
“Lady Xoa, your presence is requested by High Commander Afit. You will follow me.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and imparted a sharp nod. “Lead the way.”
She shrugged out of the soldiers’ hands, but stayed close enough to feel the weight of their shadows. The squad leader led the way out of her building and into a military flit. The flit’s sides were armored, yet it kept its aerodynamic shape, making the civilian version popular among the nobility.
They seated Khiann in the back with a guardian on either side. The driver didn’t so much as look at her. The flit rose from the ground and shot forward, its siren warning pedestrians and traffic out of its way.
Her guides remained quiet on the journey to headquarters, and Khiann did nothing to break the silence. Anyone low level enough to fetch her wouldn’t know why she had been summoned, so there was no point in asking. Once turned over, she would likely never see them again.
She held her head high when they hustled her out of the flit and into HQ. She missed her sword and uniform. It felt wrong to be in the building out of uniform. She focused on the squad leader’s back. If she didn’t see the curious or scornful stares from those in the corridors, she couldn’t feel their sting.
The journey ended at a plain door that opened on a conference room stripped of all furniture but a single chair claimed by High Commander Afit. A burly soldier stood to his left. The soldiers ushered Khiann inside, then closed the door behind her.
The commander didn’t stand. His companion didn’t move. “Lady Xoa,” he addressed her. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Hello, High Commander. How can I serve the Archon today?”
“There is nothing you can do to help the Archon or our people, and I would not trust you to try.”
His naked dislike was plastered over his face. He’d lost fear of her noble rank, its protection gone.
“I see. Shall I return to my chamber, then?”
She had to keep the smile from her face when his cheek twitched. He had all the power in the room, but she wouldn’t give him her fear. He had earned that no more than he’d earned her respect.
“No. Before you leave, I have something to show you.”
He stood and moved to the far side of the room. The wall came to life, showing an image of Khiann with the two humans. The angle was bad, yet there was no questioning their identities.
“This footage comes from Red Star. It left on a mission not long after this moment. When it returned, its memory was scrubbed.”
Khiann watched as her image handed something to Dante, then walked away. There was no sound, but there was also no doubt she was aiding the humans. She hadn’t expected another ship’s cameras to be active.
“Your list of crimes grows longer from incompetence to willful betrayal. You know the price for a crime of that caliber.”
“I do. When is my trial?”
The outcome was already decided, but at least she’d have a chance to explain herself. She could come clean. No longer live as an outcast. She would be executed, but she would have her say.
“There will be no trial.”
“What?”
He scowled. Maybe he heard her disappointment. If he thought to kill her quietly, to be remembered only with shame, she would make him pay for it. His companion tensed; he was no fool. He could read her intentions.
Afit’s gaze shifted without meeting her eyes. He didn’t look happy, which was baffling. “I am sorry to report you have been removed from my authority. We know what you did. Your name will be held in contempt for the rest of your days and beyond.”
“What do you mean?”
The commander and his guard walked out of the room, brushing by her as if she didn’t exist. She turned to follow them and froze. Her father stood in the doorway, his fingers interlaced. He was alone. When he closed the door behind him, he shut the pair of them off from the rest of the world. She felt true dread for the first time that day.
He walked to the chair and sat, face empty of emotion. The only sign of his anger was the twitch in his right eye. The last time she’d seen that, she’d defied his orders by joining the military. He’d had other plans for her that had to be deferred. Now, she knew, they would never happen.
His voice emerged smooth as sweet tree sap. “Now you have seen the proof, hm? You have betrayed your house and your nation, yet you live with your shame without flinching. Tell me, Khiann, how can you do that?”
“Father, I made a decision for the good of all of us.”
“You ensured any attack on our enemies would fail. You gave them enough warning to prevent our agents from recovering the Key. If my sources are correct, the Key has been destroyed. The lost ones remain lost, because of you.”
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“I believe that greater dishonor—”
“Your opinions on honor are not relevant, nor will they ever be again. Not in my household. Your betrayal has put our house in great jeopardy. Where one weed rises, a hundred more lie within the soil, waiting to sprout.”
“Father, if you’ll just listen—”
“Which is why,” he continued, “the gardener must remove the rogue plant before more spread and name him a nurturer of weeds.”
“Execution will accomplish that.” She shut her lips tight.
He raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps, but after all these years, I know how it would go. You would go to your death head held high, your declarations of the truth as you see it. You will be given your chance to speak, and the family will be further shamed. I will not have it.”
“As expected, you want me alive only because it benefits you!”
“From here out, you will speak only when I ask a question,” he snapped. She squared her shoulders as he said, “You are no longer a Xoa. I have burned your name from the family records.”
Her mouth formed a silent ‘O.’ Her parents, her brothers, all of them had been torn from her with those words. They would never speak to her again. A Pirr didn’t exist without family, without name. She tried to speak, but her father had torn her voice away too.
“You are now a ward of the Temple. They will teach you humility and service.” He sighed, his ears drooping slightly as he looked at her. “You had such potential, Khiann. I have never understood you, and now I never will.”
He stood and left the room. Unlike Afit, he gave her a wide berth when he passed. A numbness overcame her from the crown of her head to her toes. Her father—no, Lord Xoa—had taken much more than her name. He had taken the half of her that remained. Her career, with everything she’d accomplished, was gone. Her name and the family that had sustained her, also gone.
She lowered herself into the lone chair, head bowed over her knees. There was no honor left for her now, only obedience and solitude. A fate Khiann wondered if she could endure.
At sundown, the priests came for her. They didn’t speak, their gestures and expressions impassive. She followed them from the building and into the woods. There, the priests began to hum in harmony. Each had their own note, and they took turns starting the next chord.
The wordless hymn continued as they hiked. They maintained a straight line, yet not a single tree stood in their path. They stepped over fallen oaks and a stream, never missing a step. Khiann followed the lead priest’s footsteps, maintaining silence.
They stepped out of the trees at the side of the Stone Tower and entered through a hidden door. Solid, plain walls with no decorative carvings hemmed her in. The walls, carved out of solid rock and polished smooth, intersected a dozen passages like it. She counted the turns until they stopped in front of an open door.
The leader faced her for the first time, yet he looked past her at a priest just behind her.
“The penitent is now a ward of the Temple. We will look after her as one of our own children. She will have tasks to complete while she meditates upon her sins.”
Khiann grimaced as they talked over her. She did not enjoy it.
“What is my task today?” she asked.
He turned a pair of brilliant green eyes on her. “Ward, we ask that you meditate upon your reason for being here and prepare for morning. Report to the courtyard at dawn. Our counsellor will have tasks for you at that time.”
He gestured at the door. She went inside and waited for it to close behind her. The only light came through the latticework, revealing a plain bed and coarse robes laid out for her.
She changed into her new attire and sat on the floor, folding her legs beneath her. She tried to meditate, but her thoughts were too erratic. Then her mind lost focus. Khiann followed her ragged thoughts to visions of the temple and lighting candles that went out the moment she turned her back.
She shook her head. She’d been dozing. She gave up on meditation and curled up on the bed. She had the rest of her life to master meditation under duress. For tonight, she would get what rest she could to be ready for the next day.
Khiann opened her eyes. Feet padded past her door, accompanied by hushed whispers. She got up to peer through the lattice yet could only make out rough shapes in robes. The other wards. Morning already, then.
She stepped into the hall. The soft echo of the wards’ passing came from every direction. She took a deep breath, then retraced yesterday’s steps. Every sound ricocheted ahead until it sounded as if she were following herself. It was disorienting, but she had handled worse in the Astral Plane and soldiered on.
Once outside, she found a Pirr in a black robe addressing a group in plain, undyed robes like hers. Many of the wards were in their teens, others were mature, and one elder stood among them.
They turned as one, and the black-robed Pirr beckoned for her to join the others, then snapped his fingers, summoning everyone’s attention and returned to his lecture. “You will continue your tasks from yesterday. As you work, contemplate your place in the temple. You are one stone in a great tower of which construction began before your grandparents were a thought in their forebears’ minds.”
Khiann’s nearest neighbors moved away from her, putting a stride between them. She glanced from face to face, frowning.
“Youngest ward.”
She continued to stare at her nearest neighbor, daring him to look her in the eye. The moment he did, she would know if he feared her or disdained her. If the latter, she would teach him to fear her. If he didn’t know who she was, he would soon learn that, too.
“Youngest ward, she who was known as Khiann, stripped of that name, do not make me speak that lost name again!”
She looked at the black-robed one. “Yes?”
“I am Counsellor Thaox. I am to have oversight of your penance until you are fit for priestly company. You others, get to work. Youngest ward, come with me.”
“They didn’t take my given name,” she said. “Just my family one.”
“The youngest ward must learn humility. She must learn her place here at the Stone Tower. Only when she has sublimated her pride will her name be returned.”
Counsellor Thaox walked toward the back of the Tower. Khiann followed, feeling the eyes of the other wards on her, so she held her head higher, refusing to show shame.
Thaox stopped under a tree at the edge of the forest. He pointed at the myriad leaves, each a different shade of green. “We are as leaves on the tree. The tree takes nourishment from the fronds, yet no single leaf sustains it. However, if a leaf were separated from the tree, it will soon die.”
It sounded like wisdom she might hear at a ritual, though the message felt more personal. She bowed her head and waited.
“Your pride brought you among us. Your belief that you are wiser than the Archon, or your family, or your commander, has brought you low. Yet you do not feel low. You feel your punishment is unjust.”
“Counsellor, I—”
“You even believe what you have to say takes precedence over this lesson. Meditate upon what I have said in the shade of this tree. When you begin to understand my words, perhaps you will have a name once more.”
“This is a fire tree.”
“Yes, but its spores only release when the tree is disturbed. The deeper your meditation, the safer you will be. Sit. Contemplate the lesson for today. I will return for you at twilight.”
She watched him leave, then looked beyond at the wards raking the grounds and plucking weeds from garden beds. They stole glances at her as they worked. The counsellor kept his back to her, but she could see his head turning, inspecting each of his workers in turn. Soon he would turn her way, and if she were still standing, he would see defiance.
She took a long, even breath, trying to calm her thoughts before she stepped close to the tree and lowered herself to the ground. The leaves above shivered in the wind, and she bowed her head before any of the spores got in
her eyes.
Something soft brushed at the back of her neck, tickling her skin. She held still, hands clutching each other, as she willed the wind to blow it away. If she touched it, or put the slightest pressure on it, the spore would dot her skin with a pollen that burned and itched. Scratching made it worse. Only a salve made from its sap soothed the infection.
She slowed her breaths, trying to achieve a meditative trance with the tree looming above her. It was sensitive to pheromones and would react to agitation with a shower of spores. If she stayed calm and in control, she would be fine.
Deep breaths, she told herself. She only had to last until sunset.
Counsellor Thaox didn’t return until after dark, when her hair and shoulders were coated with a fine blanket of spores. He produced a fan from his robes to blow away the worst of them.
“You may stand.”
She stood and stepped out of the shadows.
“What have you learned today?”
That punishments always outweigh the crime. But she didn’t say that. She had entered a world where a single word of opposition would be disciplined.
“Counsellor, I was reminded today I am not my own master. I exist to serve my people. My people do not serve me…and never will.”
“You are correct. Tomorrow, I will allow you to be useful. Now I will give you your instructions. Until you are given a name, you will only speak when asked a direct question. The correct response to an order is to bow. Do not taint another priest’s ears with your voice, ward. When you have shown growth, perhaps in ten years or so, you will be taken on the next step of your spiritual journey.”
Ten years? As much as it galled her, Khiann clenched her jaws and bowed. She had no desire to spend another day beneath the fire tree. She would obey, she would make her penance, but she vowed that they would not take her pride. That was all she had left.
Five
Jack woke up with low bells chiming in his ear. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled over to hide his head under a pillow. It didn’t help. He groaned into the mattress, then turned his head enough that he wasn’t muffled when he spoke.
Dragon Redemption Page 4
