by K. M. Fahy
“Just like that,” he finished. “And managing that will take far more mental training than physical. Now, let’s see what we’re working with.” He scanned the yard and pointed. “See that pebble there?”
Kitieri followed his finger until her gaze landed on a little rock near the wall, and she nodded.
“Strike it,” he said.
Kitieri took in a breath, and her palms broke into a sweat.
“Okay.” Her voice came out small and high.
It’s just a rock.
She called her lightning to her hands and sparks popped from her fingers, neither painful nor pleasant. Just… strange. A foreign feeling that still felt so familiar, like a memory from a dream.
She focused on the pebble, resisting the overwhelming urge to clench her fists. She’d never used her lightning on purpose outside of a Strike before.
Closing her eyes, Kitieri held out her hand and summoned all of the energy into her palm.
Please just hit this rock.
The lightning released with a powerful kick, and an icy chill gripped her hand for a fleeting moment. She opened one eye to find the rock untouched.
Opening her other eye revealed the charred, black mark on the stone wall, and she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “That’s embarrassing.”
“It's all right,” Haldin assured her. “You’ve never done this before. But learning to use your element like this could save your life when the time comes to exercise control during a Strike. Try it again, but be more deliberate this time.”
“More deliberate?” Kitieri asked, lowering her brows.
“Tell me that last one wasn’t a shot in the dark,” Haldin chuckled, tilting his head. “You let go too soon, and had no real visual of your target. Bring your next one straight down.”
“From… from the sky?”
“Yes. It doesn’t have to come from your hand. Use your element’s natural tendency and strike from above for a much higher chance of hitting your target.”
Kitieri clenched her jaw, remembering her spectacular failure to stop Noia’s Strike in Histan’s Square. The blaze of her lightning meeting the Blue Killer would forever burn in her mind, but Haldin was right. It hadn’t come from her hand, then, but the ground.
“All right,” she whispered, refocusing on the rock. This time when she closed her eyes, she did not lose sight of her target. It lingered in her consciousness, perfectly framed in her mind’s eye. The only thing in the yard that mattered.
Her lightning reacted differently this time. While its buzz remained constant in her curled fingers, its power felt lighter. Easier to wield, somehow.
All thoughts bent on the pebble, Kitieri lifted her arm, waiting for the lightning’s burn to reach its peak, and ripped it down to her side. A violent crack split the yard, shaking the ground beneath her feet.
She didn’t peek reluctantly this time. She didn’t need to. She lifted her gaze to find the pebble utterly destroyed, in a spray of tiny blackened pieces.
“Yes!” Haldin’s cheer startled her. “A truly impressive second attempt.”
Kitieri’s cheeks flushed against her will. “Thanks,” she mumbled.
“Now.” Haldin put out a hand. As he took a breath to give his next instruction, a call rang across the training yard.
“Officer Haldin!”
Kitieri turned to see a young gray officer leaning out of the Church’s doorway.
“One moment,” Haldin said to her, dipping his head in a quick apology. He strode toward the Church, meeting the young man halfway, and Kitieri found herself following him. Only once their hushed tones reached her ears did she realize the conversation wasn’t meant for her, and she turned to awkwardly examine the yard’s far wall.
“They can’t do that!” Haldin exclaimed, his vehemence raising the hairs on Kitieri’s neck. More whispers. She strained her hearing this time, catching only tiny snippets.
“—Histan—district dispute, and our officers… Catarva—negotiations for release, but—refused.”
“Damn it!” Haldin swore.
The crunch of his boots turning on dirt alerted Kitieri to his shift in attention before he spoke her name.
“Kitieri, I apologize,” he said. She spun on her heel, lifting her brows in feigned surprise. “I have to go; something has come up. You are dismissed, but be prepared for early training tomorrow.”
Kitieri nodded, an affirmative response dying on her lips as Haldin turned and rushed from the training yard with the officer; she snapped her mouth closed.
That was weird.
Now alone in the training yard, she heaved a loud sigh. Dismissed? For the day…?
She glanced up at the sky to gauge the sun’s position, and noted the dark storm clouds coalescing on the horizon. Lightning—real, natural lightning—flashed against the clouds’ dark underbelly, and she let out another sigh, softer this time.
I did harness that Strike.
Haldin didn’t believe her, but that didn’t make her wrong.
She glanced toward the yard’s gate, and a strange tingle ignited in her breast. Taff and Jera in lessons, learning more than she could’ve ever hoped to provide, and her with an entire afternoon to do with as she pleased. She had no desire to wander the Church hallways all day, but the grounds piqued her interest.
She couldn’t help grinning as she made for the metal gate, pulling it open to a manicured stone pathway between two walls. She followed the walkway through an inner network of courtyards and outbuildings until an arched gateway opened out into Enahris’ Square.
“Ah, there she is.”
Kitieri whirled around at the familiar voice, and found the speaker at the top of the Church stairs. Jorid leaned on his spear, sneering down at her.
“Is Haldin sick of you already?” he called. “Can’t say I blame him.”
Two officers beside him snickered, and Kitieri rolled her eyes. This guy was starting to get on her last nerve.
“Hey!” he shouted after her. She heard his boots on the stairs, and turned to face him as he stalked toward her. “I’m talking to you.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” she replied.
“Oh-ho-ho,” Jorid chortled, batting his friend’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Not so tough now that the boss isn’t here to protect you, huh?”
Kitieri’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need protection.”
“Ha!” Jorid slapped his leg. “Listen to that. She’s got this all figured out.”
The men on either side of him joined in the laughter.
“Come on then, little girl.” Jorid took a step toward her. “Let’s finish what we started.”
The flame ignited in his palm, dancing at the edge of Kitieri’s vision as she kept her eyes trained on his face.
“I’m not going to fight you,” she said.
Jorid smirked. “Don’t have what it takes?”
Kitieri shook her head with a dismissive snort, and turned to walk away. As she took her second step, something gripped her ankle.
What the—
Looking down, she saw a thin vine sprouting from between two stones in the walkway, twisting around her calf and squeezing her boot hard enough to cause pain. Stepping in front of his arbor friend, Jorid towered over her, the humor gone from his expression.
“What do you want from me?” Kitieri snapped, trying to pull free of the painful vine as it worked its way up to her knee. Jorid bent forward, bringing his face close to hers.
“I want you to leave,” he growled. “You don’t belong here, and you disgrace our title. I don’t know what kind of lies you told to get this far, but you are far from worthy of this position.”
As the man leaned menacingly over her, Kitieri’s lightning reacted. It zipped through her body, growing angry and defensive as the vine held her in place, and she squeezed her hands closed.
Shit! The Gadget’s back in the yard.
“You need to back off,” she warned.
Jori
d raised his eyebrow. “Prove yourself an officer, then, and make me.”
He jabbed a flaming fingertip into her shoulder, singeing the gray jacket down to her skin. Kitieri batted his hand away with a sharp hiss. The lightning roared inside her, ready to protect its wielder. It raced up and down her arms, burning in her chest and biting at her hands, screaming for a chance to strike.
“I said, back the fuck up!” she shouted. Jorid jerked his head back, but recovered with a deadly grin.
“I’m serious,” she continued, pulling desperately against the vine around her leg. “I don’t want to kill you.”
Jorid laughed. “Big words for a girl who can’t even produce an element in self-defense.”
He jammed his fiery finger into the hole in her jacket, searing her skin, and Kitieri yelped as the lightning tore free from her hands.
The world flashed white around her, and a deafening crack nearly ruptured her ear drums. Her scream lingered in the air, slicing into the deathly silence that followed.
Oh, fuck.
She stood paralyzed, eyes closed tight.
I killed him. He’s dead. I murdered him. I—
“What… in the gods’ names…”
Kitieri’s eyes flew open to see the three officers writhing on the Church steps. Jorid struggled up to a sitting position, his face twisted into a horrified snarl.
“You,” he thundered, lifting a shaking finger. Kitieri moved to back away and found her ankle free from the vine, its burned remains scattered on the stones. Without another moment’s hesitation, she turned and ran.
“That’s right!” Jorid called after her. “You’d better run! I will see you jailed for attempted murder by an illegal practice!”
Kitieri did not look back, letting adrenaline and panic carry her deep into the city.
Chapter 10
Kitieri’s pace finally slowed as her lungs burned, begging for respite. A cold rain soaked her uniform, chilling her flushed skin as it ran down her back and legs into her boots, and she stopped to catch her breath under the overhang of a ramshackle house.
Her body trembled uncontrollably as she slid down the wall, and she let her tears mix with the rain and sweat that drenched her cheeks.
Dangerous. Unstable. Uncontrollable.
One tiny moment of victory in the training yard didn’t change the truth of those words.
Shuddering breaths rattled in her throat as she fought for air through the sobs. She rocked back and forth, knees pulled to her chest, until the tears started to run out and her energy waned.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into the thrum of the rain. What for, she wasn’t sure at first, but remorse overtook her emotions, flooding her thoughts.
It wasn’t Jorid; he could choke, for all she cared. This was bigger than some courtyard bully.
I’m sorry, Jera, that I can’t give you a life you deserve. I’m sorry, Taff, that I can’t protect you. I’m sorry that every moment I’m with you, you’re in danger.
She bent forward as another sob racked her body.
“I’m sorry for what I am,” she choked.
A steady stream of rainwater poured from the house’s gutter into the street, and Kitieri stared at the splatter on the stones until the lines blurred. As her vision hazed to gray dots, anxious thoughts fluttering through her mind, a small movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention and she became acutely aware of the sensation of being watched.
Kitieri whipped her head around and spied a corner of dark fabric disappearing into an alleyway two houses down. Senses jumping to high alert, she pushed to her feet and jogged out into the rain to peer around the corner.
“Hey,” she called, moving warily toward the alley. It was probably nothing. A curious kid, maybe. But the hairs on the back of her neck still stood on end from the feeling of those eyes boring into her, and her brows furrowed as she prepared to lean around the corner of the house.
The door just beside her gave a loud creak as it swung open, and Kitieri jumped back.
“Officer!” A stout, jolly woman in a faded blue dress and soiled apron stood framed in the doorway. “My, it is pouring. You’ll catch your death out here! Can I offer you some hot tea and a dry place to wait out this storm?”
Kitieri blinked rain from her eyes, stunned.
“Uh…” She glanced back to the corner of the house, peering through the driving sheets for another glimpse at the stranger, but found nothing.
“Come, come.” The woman beckoned. “You must be freezing. I’ve already got the water on.”
“I’m… I’m all right,” Kitieri replied, forcing a smile.
“It’s a long walk back to the Church in all this mess.”
Kitieri looked back the way she’d come, realizing that her hair was plastered to her face and neck, and a chill racked her body. Of that, the woman was correct—it was quite the trek back, and the strange figure had long disappeared by now.
She sighed. “Okay. If you’re sure.”
The woman beamed, holding the door open wide for Kitieri to pass through. “Have a seat!” She pulled out a chair from the modest table, and hurried over to the fireplace to grab the kettle. “I’m Tira.”
“Nice to meet you, Tira. I’m Kitieri.”
Tira returned to the table with the kettle and an extra cup, and draped a wool blanket over Kitieri’s shoulders.
“You are just soaked through,” she muttered. “Where’s your partner?”
Kitieri looked up. “My partner?”
“Well, yes, gray officers always patrol in pairs.”
“Oh.” Kitieri gave her a feeble smile. “Just me today.”
“I see.” Tira nudged the teacup. “Drink up, while it’s hot.”
Kitieri took the cup in her hands, letting it warm her palms as she scrutinized the woman.
“It was kind of you to invite me in,” she said, sipping at her tea. Expecting the bitter taste of the root tea her mother had always made, the sweet, fruity flavors caught Kitieri by surprise, and she pulled her head back to sniff at the cup’s rising steam.
“Oh, we always invite our kind officers in.” Tira waved her hand. “In fact, I’m surprised I’ve never seen you before. Do you normally patrol a different sector, or are you new?”
“Pretty new.” Kitieri took another sip, shivering as the hot liquid warmed her from the inside, and glanced around the small room. Nothing about the place showed any signs of wealth or luxury, but sweet berry teas like this were always twice the price of root teas at the market.
“We just love our officers,” Tira was saying. “Baliant Catarva has been doing extraordinary things since she took over seven years ago.”
Kitieri’s eyes widened before she could remind herself to keep her expression neutral. Seven years? Hells, she couldn’t have been older than fifteen when she’d become Baliant.
“Wouldn’t you agree?” Tira prompted, tipping her cup to her lips.
“Oh, yeah.” Kitieri nodded. “She’s great.”
Catarva’s intent amber eyes flashed in her mind, and Kitieri shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Far better than her predecessor, I must say,” Tira muttered, then snapped her head up with her lips pinned closed as Kitieri leaned forward.
“Why do you say that?”
“I meant no offense,” Tira said with a shake of her head.
“None taken.” Kitieri smiled reassuringly. “I’m just curious why you think that.”
“Well…” Tira set her cup gingerly on the table. “As an officer of the Church, you would know better than I. But Baliant Catarva is changing things. It’s a slow process, sure, but she’s trying, despite the… difficulties.”
Kitieri’s brow twitched. “I don’t follow.”
Tira laughed, shrill and nervous. “My, you really are new, aren’t you?”
Kitieri’s face flushed, and she dropped her gaze to the table. Just shut up while you’re ahead.
“Suffice it to say,” Tira went on, “tha
t since our current Baliant took the seat, the company of the gray officers that patrol our sector has become much more pleasant. You can really see their loyalty to her, and it’s always more fulfilling to help people than to punish them, wouldn’t you say?”
Kitieri nodded with a thin smile. Though she hadn’t a clue about what most of Tira’s rambling meant, she found reassurance that the gray uniforms were looked upon differently than the red ones, and the tiniest sliver of guilt fell away from her acceptance of her new position. But even so, the list of kind, decent uses a leader might have for a lightning element in her debt was a short one.
“Though I must say I’m surprised,” Tira said. “I’ve never seen an officer out and about without a Gad—ah, PCR since the Strikes started.”
“Yeah,” Kitieri muttered. “I, uh, didn’t mean to get this far out…” She trailed off, hearing Jorid’s words ringing in her head.
“Oh, no need to explain yourself to me.” Tira laughed. “I’ve been saving for one for years so my son can get out of those mines and get a better paying job. He’s thirteen now, and I want him to start saving for a family and a house of his own someday. But the mines are just…”
“A trap,” Kitieri finished. “I know. Grueling labor for insulting pay, all in exchange for protection until it’s time to walk home.”
Surprise crossed Tira’s face before she drank from her cup.
“You almost sound like you’ve experienced it,” she said with a chuckle. “But no miner ever makes officer. You know what they say: ‘once a miner, always a miner.’”
Kitieri nodded, biting down hard on the inside of her lip.
“They do say that,” she murmured. “Will you do me a favor, Tira?”
The woman’s face brightened. “Anything, Officer!”
“When it’s time to buy that Gadget, ask for me specifically. Kitieri Manon. All right?”
Tira tilted her head with a bemused squint. “I didn’t think officers had anything to do with the Gadgets. That’s all the Board of Advisors, from what I’ve heard.”
“I don’t care who’s in charge of it,” Kitieri said. “You ask for me. I’ll make sure you get what you need for a fair price.”
Tira nodded. “Okay. I’ll do that.”
