Age of Deception (The Firebird Chronicles Book 2)

by T. A. White

  Blue scales shimmered in the light as it continued a path toward the sky. Its powerful body coiled as it reached the apex of its jump, already shifting to plunge into the ocean's depths.

  Kira caught sight of horns curling from its head, its crest of feathers sleek and smooth to make the lu-ong as aerodynamic as possible. Long whiskers streamed from its snout, catching the wind.

  Something akin to fear and awe trembled through Kira. She now saw how Graydon could call the last lu-ong she'd encountered a baby. This one was mammoth when compared to the one she'd met. Many, many times the size of Earth's whales.

  Emotion threatened to overwhelm Kira. The wonder of the sight made her breath catch.

  It plunged into the sea, its long, serpentine body following, only for its head to rise out of the water again in preparation for another jump. With its body stretched behind it, the lu-ong’s length reminded Kira of a half-submerged mountain range, shifting and disappearing.

  Its spirit brushed hers. Massive like the void of space—and just as wondrous.

  Only when the lu-ong had moved into the distance and was a small dot against the horizon, did Kira start forward again. Her headache had faded while watching the lu-ong, but even without it, every step dragged on her.

  It was a short time later when she stepped up one last time and nearly stumbled. She paused, startled to find flat ground. Kira lifted her head, weariness dragging at her.

  No further steps waited for her. She'd reached the top.

  She stilled as she took in the city before her. Its size and breadth dwarfed the Citadel of Light, even from this distance.

  Five large fortresses rimmed the city, walkways extending from their walls like spokes on a wheel to a palace in the center. Each one as different from the last as night and day. Crests flew above them announcing the different Houses.

  The city outside the fortresses’ walls was made up of smaller, no less awe-inspiring buildings that filled the spaces between as it spilled toward the ocean below.

  "I've seen a lot of places. Admittedly most of them were destroyed by the time I reached them, but this is definitely one for the history books," Raider said from a spot where he sat, leaning against his duffel. Sweat dotted his skin, making Kira glad she hadn't been the only one to find the test difficult.

  "It's like a dream," Blue whispered.

  Kira shook her head as feelings welled up, almost too big to contain.

  We're home, something inside her seemed to say. She shook her head again, refusing its lure. No, she wasn't.

  Her home was a ship currently docked at O’Riley Station. It was small and cramped, but it was hers.

  "I'm sure we'll find a dirty underbelly if we look close enough," Raider said. "Places that seem too good to be true always have them."

  Blue scowled. "Don't ruin it. Can't you see we're having a moment."

  In this, Kira agreed with Raider. As beautiful as the city was, there was no doubt in her mind shadows existed within. It was best to remember that. Any instant connection she might have felt was an illusion, and she had no intention of letting it twist her goals.

  The stairs had led them to a spot well outside the city limits. They stood on a ridge overlooking the vista below. The closest fortress wasn't far, standing stalwart and tall on the edge of the cliff on which it impossibly perched, its exterior walls creating a smooth drop to the ocean below. It was difficult to see the exact spot where the cliff and fortress met, so seamless was the integration between the two.

  Kira's gaze was drawn inexorably to it. The stone that made up its structure seemed to absorb the light. Tall spires stabbed the sky's underbelly at its center, the strong walls of its defenses seemingly impenetrable.

  In almost all ways, it was the Citadel's opposite. Imposing. Austere. This place seemed to care nothing of beauty, devoted only to one purpose—protecting those who resided within.

  Kira turned her attention from the fortress, gazing at those around her.

  It seemed only a handful of the initiates had made it to the top. Of those were the two boys Kira had seen at the bottom, a handful she didn't recognize and Joule.

  "She was last," the friendly-looking boy observed to his peers.

  The arrogant boy didn’t bother to keep his voice down. "What do you expect from someone who keeps company with humans."

  Kira grinned as Blue and Raider fell silent. She tilted her head, not able to keep herself from chuckling. Aw, they wanted to play mind games. How cute. And utterly pointless.

  "This is familiar," Blue muttered.

  Raider agreed, rising from his reclining position. "I'm too old to be playing an underdog."

  When he finally straightened to his full height, it was like a mask had slammed down. His expression was cold and unforgiving. Cocky, one might say. A silent fuck you to all the naysayers.

  "But you're so good at it," Kira couldn't help but tease.

  "Shut it, granny. You're too old for this too," Raider snapped. Under his breath, he muttered, "And you suck at being the underdog. If you pick a fight because you're bored, I'm not going to have your back."

  Kira smirked. "I thought I was the commanding officer of this little shit show. You'd leave me hanging? What happened to loyalty?"

  Raider's expression soured as Kira's smile widened. He hadn't thought through his little power play earlier. It was now backfiring on him. He really should have known better. Kira had never been the type to let others take advantage. That hadn't changed much in the intervening years.

  "Anyone think that climb was a little harder than it should have been?" Blue asked.

  Joule joined them. "Roake is known for its illusions. The test was meant to strain our willpower while exhausting our bodies. The stairs were made of reiki stone, the properties of which drain our ki and sap our strength."

  Raider's forehead furrowed as he thought. Admittedly, it looked painful. Raider was more suited to action than thinking. "What if you don't have ki?"

  "Everyone has ki—even humans such as yourself," the arrogant boy from below approached, his expression cold and reserved. "It exists in all things. Humans haven’t sufficiently evolved to perceive or manipulate it."

  "Good to know," Raider said, eyeing the newcomer with interest. "Who are you?"

  The boy—for that's how Kira thought of him, despite evidence he wasn't much younger than her—ignored the human, focusing on Joule. "Affinity?"

  Joule jumped, scrambling to attention. Kira watched with interest. There was nothing obvious to point to the boy's greater status beyond the fact he carried himself with poise and an icy reserve. Still, Joule treated him with respect, as if the boy had the right to the information he'd demanded.

  "Shield, Earth class," Joule said.

  A muscle in the boy’s jaw ticked. "Support."

  Joule's expression wavered the faintest bit before he caught himself, his back straightening as if a greater height would protect himself from the dismissal implicit in the other Tuann's words.

  Kira didn't quite understand what about Joule's response relegated him to a lower tier in the Tuann's eyes, but she did know the arrogant boy's words were shortsighted. They told her all she needed to know about his experience. He lacked a fundamental understanding of tactics or strategy.

  Support might be less sexy or prestigious than infantry or other combat roles, yet it was no less important. An army didn't move without those in the support roles this boy had so casually dismissed. A soldier couldn't fire a weapon without bullets or fight on an empty stomach.

  Her hoverboard would never have made it through a battle without the mechanics and engineers who performed regular maintenance on it.

  Support got few accolades, yet a military force wouldn't make it far without them. Every role was vital. Dismiss it at your peril.

  The boy faced Kira, a demand already in the arch of his eyebrow. She arched hers right back, her lips twitching as she waited, interested to see what his next move would be.

  "We talked
about this," Raider said in a sing-song voice. "No picking fights."

  Kira ignored him. She didn't consider ignoring nonverbal demands picking a fight. That was just good sense.

  The boy's face tightened. "Affinities."

  Her amusement deepened at the demand disguised as a question. "And who is asking such a rude question upon first acquaintance."

  There was a long pause as the boy tried to stare her down, his will trying to overpower hers. She cocked her head. This boy had nothing on Baran or Graydon. Resisting him was child's play.

  The pressure he was trying to bring to bear on her relented, the faintest sheen on his skin exposing the effort the attempt had cost him.

  His words seemed forced from him. "Devon of House Danai."

  Her gaze dropped to Joule. “Another House?”

  He nodded. “One of the five major Houses.”

  "How do you not know this?" the boy asked.

  Joule straightened his shoulders. "Kira is the lost child of Roake and Luatha. She didn't grow up in a House."

  The boy's eyes snapped to Kira, interest and something harder in his expression. Before he had been mildly combative, now an arctic front could roll off him, and Kira wouldn't have been surprised.

  She couldn't quite name what she saw in him, but she suspected it was a close companion of envy. Or maybe suspicion. Sometimes it was hard to say.

  This close, it was easier to see the details of his features. Surprisingly, they were familiar—especially the color of his eyes, a green the color of the land after a soft rainfall.

  They tugged at a memory of another boy with the exact same eyes, a boy who had become her partner in all things and whose current absence was a thorn in her side.

  Kira ignored the spark of familiarity, dismissing it as improbable, if not impossible. She was imagining links where they didn’t exist.

  The smile she aimed at Devon was bright and cheery. "As for your question, I have no idea. When Luatha tested my affinities, they found the test inconclusive."

  Joule looked on the brink of speaking before he shut his mouth again, his face disgruntled.

  It seemed he had learned something from her after all. Secrets were best held close to the vest until you needed them. The upper echelons of Roake's leadership no doubt already knew she had a primus form, but she saw no reason for those before her to know too. They'd either react with fawning admiration or deep suspicion. Neither of which appealed to her and would make blending more difficult.

  Commotion interrupted before he could respond. Silas stepped from a small group of Tuann clad in synth armor, raising his hands, warmth radiating from his expression. He looked like a mild-mannered professor, an appearance at odds with the fierce warrior Kira had seen in action.

  Those behind him had the look of battle-hardened warriors with the exception of one. The man stood out, and not simply because of his height and beauty. Like the rest, he held himself with a warrior's poise, aware of his surroundings.

  However, his armor differed from theirs, vaguely reminding Kira of one of the warrior wizards in the fantasy games Blue used to force her to play.

  A deep sapphire cloak trimmed in silver fur was clasped around his neck. Beneath, he wore a robe, close-fitting on top, the sleeves cut so the fabric revealed the midnight blue of his armor. A wide belt wound around his waist, a long piece of cloth dropping from the front, edged in a silver pattern.

  He should have looked ridiculous. Yet somehow, he managed to project serenity and a sense of purpose.

  His eyes met Kira's, a pleasant curiosity in them before he tipped his head at Silas, silently signaling she needed to pay attention.

  Silas spoke, drawing Kira's attention away from the strange man. "I congratulate those of you who've passed the Trek of the Weary. I know it wasn't an easy task, and many failed along the way. To those of you who remain, I once again welcome you. I would like to say your path to the adva ka will only get easier from here. Unfortunately, I would be lying."

  There were small sounds of amusement.

  "All of you have passed the first hurdle. From here, you can expect many more as we assess your readiness to enter the Trial of the Broken. You’ve come to us for a chance at apprenticeship and to hone your skills as warriors. I want to thank you for your willingness to entrust your future to this House. Know we will push you as you’ve never been pushed before, but that the rewards are worth it. This is an honored rite of passage only a few ever complete.”

  Silas stepped to the side and gestured to two of the Tuann near him. “I'd like to introduce you to those who will be shepherding you through this phase of your training. You’re to refer to them as seon’yer, though you’re not technically anyone’s apprentice yet."

  The woman regarded them steadily. Her eyebrow quirked as if she found the sight of them too amusing for words. She wore little in the way of clothes. On her upper body, she wore only a breastplate that left her lean stomach exposed. The gauzy skirt around her legs was held up by slim chains, slits on either leg to mid-thigh to allow ease of movement. A handful of clunky bracelets clung to either wrist, and her feet were bare.

  "Maida," Finn said softly, appearing next to Kira like a phantom.

  She restrained her jump, now used to how quietly the oshota could move when they wanted to.

  "She’s deadly when she wants to be."

  Maida flicked a half-undone braid that had slipped over her shoulder behind her as she regarded the students with a sultry gaze only marred by the disdain in her expression.

  "Not sure I'd want to fight in that," Blue said. "Looks uncomfortable—and unsafe."

  Blue had a point. The woman's outfit was stylistic, beautiful in its own way, but it wasn't ideal for combat.

  "Synth armor would only slow her down and prove unnecessary. Her affinity allows her to change the composition of her skin, making it as strong and hard to cut as synth armor," Finn informed them. "She's not quite right in the head, but no one can argue with her abilities."

  There were whispers as the second man stepped up, his expression cool and assessing.

  "Wren," Devon breathed beside them. The Tuann's hero worship was unmistakable. "I thought he didn't take apprentices until they were fifty years past their adva ka."

  "He's willing to make an exception if he finds an initiate worth his effort." Finn's face was neutral as he relayed that information. It was impossible to make any inferences from his tone.

  That didn't stop Kira from trying. Whatever Wren’s purpose here, it had better not have anything to do with her.

  Silas wrapped up the introductions. "Over the next few weeks, we will be assessing your skills and abilities to decide which of you are ready for the uhva na. We will use these assessments to pair you with the best mentor. Good luck."

  Excited chatter broke out among the initiates.

  Devon's gaze was determined as it swung toward Kira. "Your ancestry means nothing here. Don't get in my way. I plan to beat the Face's record for passing the adva ka. I will eliminate any obstacle in my way."

  Kira blinked at him. He was one to talk. Practically the first words out of his mouth had been his House affiliation.

  That was the definition of using your connections to impress others. She didn't bother pointing that out, though. She doubted he'd appreciate or even acknowledge his hypocrisy

  Besides, she had no intention of getting in his way.

  "Good luck?" Her tone made it sound more like a question than anything.

  His gaze narrowed before he spun on his heel and stalked off, following Maida and the others she’d gathered.

  "Friendly guy," Kira muttered. If that was the sort of behavior she had to look forward to over however long it took her to heal, it was going to be a long few weeks.

  "People will judge you based on your background. It’s unavoidable," Finn informed her.

  "Tell me something I don't know,” Kira said, pushing the craziness of her shoulder-length hair, twisted and tangled from the ocean bre
eze, away from her face.

  That seemed to be the story of her life. Why should the Tuann be any different?

  Before Finn could answer, Silas and the strange man who looked vaguely like a genius wizard approached.

  "Kira, this is Loudon. He is the ki’s herald and an adviser to the Overlord. He's volunteered to show you around the Fortress of the Vigilant in my place. I'm afraid I have business to attend to." Apology colored Silas's words.

  Loudon smiled at her, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling. "It'd be my pleasure."

  "Thank you," she said as Loudon started toward the fortress of black stone that seemed to eat the light.

  Raider and Blue shouldered their bags, catching up easily.

  "Of course, your ancestral home would be the one that looks like it’s straight out of a gothic, sci-fi, holovid," Raider muttered as they started along the cliffside path. "I don't know why I ever thought it would be different."

  Neither did Kira, to be honest.

  SIX

  Loudon's pace was sedate as he led them toward the hulking fortress in the distance, his hands clasped behind him like he was out for a Sunday stroll. Finn was several feet behind them, his gaze moving constantly as he assessed the area for threats.

  "So," Raider started, breaking the silence that had descended. "Herald? Is that kind of like a priest?"

  There was no hiding Raider's skepticism. Kira closed her eyes and shook her head. She'd forgotten how much he hated anything dealing with religion.

  Most religions had survived humanity's spread through the stars. The distance between planets only serving to make it easier to practice an individual's faith.

  In a few cases, particularly for those religions that had felt persecuted, they'd pooled their money to colonize their own planet, allowing only their beliefs to flourish on its surface.

  Raider had grown up on one such planet. They'd been hardcore fundamentalists, his family the worst of the bunch. They believed you could only reach God if you were pure. Their faith came in the form of a stick and a rod, and they held no reservations about using them, especially on children.