15. THIRTEEN

thirteen

Hours later Kira’s head pounded with the beginning of a headache. Tiny zips of pain pulsed along her nerve endings, a precursor to ki overload.

“Again,” Wren barked.

He stood off to the side with his arms folded across his chest as he put Kira through her paces.

With a monumental exertion of will, Kira lifted leaden arms that felt like they had a thousand pounds attached to them.

She held the akieri up in front of her and concentrated. Ki coalesced inside of her before she attempted to push it into the hilt of the akieri.

Careful. More careful than weavers handling the silk of the butterfly worm on New Lexington.

A spiderweb of violet lines started to show through the metal of the hilt as a metal slowly extended upwards.

For a brief moment, Kira felt hope that this time she’d succeed.

The shape collapsed, a pulse of pain numbing her hands and making her head pound harder.

“Damn it.” Kira’s arms dropped as she got frustrated with herself.

She’d been at this for several hours and was no closer to forming the akieri.

“You are rushing the formation and using far too much ki,” Wren observed.

So, he’d said. Several times now.

“I don’t even understand why it’s so important that I’m able to do this.”

The akieri exacted a heavy toll on a person’s ki. Materializing it and using it created a serious drain and hastened exhaustion.

It made Wren a sadist for forcing her to practice this after the physical training he’d put her through.

A sadist of the highest order.

“No one else in the adva ka is going to be able to use this either,“ Kira said, barely able to keep the whine out of her voice.

Wren paced in a circle around Kira. “You are not everyone else.”

“I can change that,” Kira muttered.

Wren ignored her. “You are the daughter of Roake. The heir of our House.”

Kira knew she’d regret not objecting to that title. It hadn’t even been a day before karma came knocking.

“More importantly, you will be a target for those who have vendettas with our House. You need to be ready.”

Kira gave him a flat stare. “I don’t need a fancy ki blade to defend myself. I’m always ready.”

There was a choking sound from the edge the hall.

Most of those present when she’d arrived had long since drifted away. Some returning to their duties. Others to train.

Even Harlow and Graydon had left at some point, leaving Kira alone with Wren.

Finn was blowing off some steam with several oshota as they dueled on the opposite side of the room.

Apparently being back in Roake had made him loosen some of his vigilance. A fact Kira was regretting right about now. It sure would be nice for someone to intervene and save her from this purgatory.

Wren made a “give me” motion with his fingers. Kira tossed him the akieri.

It took only an instant for him to form the blade. He slashed it in front of him, seeming to almost split the air as glowing lines infused the metal of the blade.

The blade retracted and Wren tossed it to Kira. “The akieri is powerful. It can cut through anything.”

Kira refused to be impressed. “So can an en-blade.”

And she wasn’t going to run out of energy halfway through a battle with an en-blade.

“You’re not an oshota. Until you obtain the scale of a lu-ong which serves as your synth armor’s genesis, you are not qualified to carry an en-blade,“ Wren said with a patience Kira knew was quickly fading.

Wren wasn’t used to being questioned so she was sure dealing with her was quite the adjustment.

He’d handled it beautifully until now, but Kira thought this might be the day she broke him.

“This was your father’s weapon and his mother’s before him. All the way back to the first Overlord,” Wren snapped, slapping the akieri into Kira’s hand. “You will learn to use it.”

Kira’s fingers closed around the hilt; her arguments locked inside her throat as she looked at the akieri with new eyes.

“My father’s?”

Some of the irritation faded from Wren’s expression as his face softened. “It’s a symbol of your House.”

As interesting as that was, Kira cared more about the fact the akieri had once belonged to the man who’d given her life.

She smoothed her thumb along the edge, lost in thought.

“Fine,” she said, giving in.

As much as she disliked doing something simply for tradition’s sake, it was a different story if this was truly her father’s former weapon.

Maybe using it would make her feel closer to him.

“But I’m not learning this today.” Kira lifted her head to focus on Wren. “Quillon instructed me to stop when it hurts. That time is now.”

Kira hated admitting that.

Weakness was always something she’d gone out of her way to conceal. She would push and push, break herself to pretend she wasn’t hurt.

For some of it, she hadn’t had a choice. The Tsavitee would have taken advantage of any opening they could.

Humans couldn’t always be trusted either.

But this was training. There was no reason to destroy her body because she was too proud to call uncle.

That way lay idiocy.

Wren’s lips curved. “You pass.”

Kira furrowed her brow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Wren’s enigmatic expression was hard to read as he reached forward to remove the akieri from Kira’s grip.

She let him as she waited for an answer.

“Although you are skilled, I needed you to demonstrate a few things before I agreed to let you undertake the adva ka.”

Kira’s frown grew more pronounced. “I thought my name was already added to the list.”

“Your Overlord and others judged your abilities as being of sufficient enough quality to advance to the adva ka, but as your seon’yer I have the final say.”

Kira stared at Wren. “And you didn’t decide I was qualified enough until right this second.”

His faint smile proved answer enough.

“Lovely,” Kira spat, running her fingers through her shoulder length hair in a nervous gesture. “Would you care to tell me why?”

It was alarming to think she could have been taken out of the running and not known until it was too late.

“You know why,” Wren informed her.

Some of the anger went out of Kira. If she was honest, she did. “My ki poisoning.”

He nodded. “Ki poisoning is a symptom of a larger issue. It is unique to people like you and me. Those who find their limits and then break them.“ He held up a hand when Kira would have said something. “That’s not a bad thing on occasion. It’s when it becomes repetitive that you place yourself and others in danger. You’ve never seen a full ki implosion. I have. It is horrifying and often kills not only the patient but those around him. If you couldn’t recognize when you were approaching your threshold in training, there’s no chance of you doing so on the battlefield.”

Much as it grated, Kira couldn’t argue with that logic.

The mindset of a soldier regarding injuries and limits transcended species and race. It was so easy to fall into the trap of thinking that taking time to heal was a sign of weakness. That raising your hand or taking a knee was letting down the people you served with when in fact it was the opposite.

If your body or mind failed while on the battlefield, you risked dragging everybody down with you.

It was a balancing act—weighing the need for giving yourself time to heal with the necessity of being there for your people.

It was something Kira had never quite managed to conquer. The mission always came first.

But that hampered your ability to do your job long term.

“Another test you didn’t bother telling your disciple about.” Kira joined Wren as he strolled through the Warrior’s Hall. “Suddenly, I have a lot more sympathy for what Maksym has gone through.”

Her seon’yer was maddening. No wonder Maksym was so happy to no longer be the youngest.

A group of children flooded into the room, nearly bumping into Kira and Wren as they chatted happily with each other.

“Elena,” Kira called, pleasantly surprised to spot her niece.

Elena’s face lit up as she jogged over to Kira, stopping abruptly as if she had to hold herself back from giving Kira the hug she wanted.

Kira watched in confusion as Elena’s gaze darted to Wren and then away. Her niece bowed slightly.

“Heir, it’s good to see you again.”

Kira was quick to catch on.

This was a game they’d played often over the years. Mostly when they were unsure of their surroundings and wanted to conceal their relationship.

Elena straightened as Auralyn strolled toward them, looking just as bored as she’d been when she escorted Raider away.

Ziva scurried next to the oshota, her legs moving quickly so she could keep up.

Surprise showed on Kira’s face. “Ziva, what are you doing here?”

Now that they were back on Ta Sa’Riel, House Luatha should be caring for the girl.

Seeing Kira, Ziva rushed to give her a bow, nearly toppling onto her face. “Seon’yer.”

“I requested her presence,” Elena said before Kira could correct the girl.

Kira sent her niece a bewildered look.

Elena’s smile turned sweet as she took Auralyn’s hand. “My sister was good enough to allow me a companion while I adjust to my new home.”

Sister? Kira mouthed to herself as she stared at Auralyn.

“It is so good to finally be able to join the main House of Roake. My parents kept me in seclusion growing up,” Elena said with a wink.

This must be the cover story they’d developed for Elena.

“Auralyn’s parents retreated to a remote outpost after their daughter’s death,” Wren murmured. “Very few knew they’d had another child in the years since.”

Smart.

From what Kira had been told, Elena’s appearance was very similar to that of her grandmother, Wren’s deceased wife and Auralyn’s sister. It made sense to use that family as a screen for Elena. What’s more, since they were related, it made it less likely they would betray her.

“How are you enjoying Roake so far?” Kira asked as the small group moved toward the door and the hallway beyond.

Elena’s respectful demeanor disappeared as soon as they were out of earshot of the rest of the training hall. “Save me, Auntie.”

“From what exactly?”

For a moment Elena resembled the preteen she actually was as she exuded disdain. “I’m surrounded by children.”

That surprised a laugh out of Kira. “You are a child.”

Elena fixed Kira with a disgusted look. “Not like them.”

It pained Kira that she was right.

Like Kira and Elise, Elena had been forced to grow up early. She lacked the innocence of the rest of Roake’s children and possessed a maturity that they likely wouldn’t grow into for years to come.

As much as Kira tried to shield Elena, there were places where she failed. It was a fact that haunted her.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I miss Tommy and the rest.” Elena scowled at the gaggle of children who had surrounded one of the Tuann adults. A teacher, Kira suspected.

Kira suppressed her smile. “I seem to remember you calling Tommy an idiot too when I first found him.”

“That’s because he is an idiot.” Elena pouted up at Kira. “Can’t you fix this?”

“Exactly how am I supposed to do that?”

Elena waved her hands in the air. “Don’t you have connections to the big, intimidating sourpuss who calls himself the Overlord? Use them to get me out of this.”

Kira’s eyebrows climbed as she regarded her niece as if the girl were a mythic creature she’d never seen before. “Sourpuss. Wow.”

One side of Auralyn’s mouth quirked. “She called him much worse—to his face.”

Kira was sure that had gone over well. As Overlord, Harlow probably wasn’t used to a mouthy preteen convinced she was immortal and thus didn’t need any pesky emotions such as caution or fear.

“I was worried,” Elena muttered, her gaze dropping. “You looked really bad when they took you and no one was telling us anything. They wouldn’t even let me see Uncle Jin.”

Regret moved through Kira.

She could only imagine what it would have been like for Elena and the other two children to see her in that state. They must have been terrified.

A commotion from the group of children drew Kira’s attention as a boy around Elena’s age jogged their way. There was curiosity in his gaze as he took in Kira and Wren’s presence before focusing on Elena.

“New girl, it’s time to get started. Quit bothering the heir and get a move on,” he ordered.

Elena gave Kira a frown that seemed to say, “see what I’m dealing with here.”

“New girl,” he said again, this time sounding a lot more irritated when Elena didn’t move.

“I heard you the first time. And I have a name.”

The boy turned away. “I don’t care.”

Elena’s glare contained enough heat to scorch anything flammable as the boy jogged toward the rest of the children.

“I swear, Auntie. If I have to deal with these brats for much longer, I can’t promise there won’t be bloodshed,” Elena muttered as Ziva giggled next to her.

“I’m afraid that is not part of the deal you made with me,” Harlow said as he walked toward them, a serious expression on his face as he regarded Elena.

To Kira’s surprise, her niece clammed up. Her face a tad sulky at Harlow’s arrival.

“You have class,” Harlow said. “I suggest you join your peers.”

Elena shot Kira a pleading look.

“He’s right.” Kira tugged on a lock of Elena’s hair. “This is an opportunity. There are things they can teach you that I can’t.”

Kira and Selene might have given Elena the skills she needed to physically survive in a harsh universe, but her education was seriously lacking in other areas.

The use of her soul’s breath for starters.

Formal training would help with that. Then there was the socialization aspect of what Harlow was proposing.

This was a rare chance for Elena to interact with children in the same age group as her. To learn what it was like to grow up in an environment that didn’t necessitate keeping secret who and what she was.

Although Elena was close to the rest of Selene’s waifs, they were no more familiar with what it meant to have a normal childhood than Elena.

It was an opportunity Kira hoped her niece would grasp with both hands.

“I agree with our seon’yer,“ Ziva chimed in with a serious expression that looked almost comical on her young face. “We can’t overlook this chance to obtain allies for our future endeavors. We have to get to them while they are young and build trust for later.”

“Right. That’s not what I meant at all,” Kira said, knowing it was a lost cause from the growing determination on the faces of the girls.

They weren’t listening.

Kira pinched the bridge of her nose as she reached for patience. “At least tell me you remember the rules.”

“Don’t show off even if you are better than everyone else at something,” Elena recited. “But, also, don’t let others walk all over you.”

Not exactly but good enough.

Kira made a shooing motion at the two. The girls turned and raced for the crowd of children as Harlow stepped up beside her.

“What did you teach those children?” he asked her.

“I don’t even know at this point.”

The only thing Kira was certain of was that Ziva showed as much of a tendency as Elena to hear only what she wanted to hear.

Kira almost pitied the poor soul responsible for the two of them over the next few hours. They had no idea how to manage the wrecking balls currently heading in their direction.

After offering a brief prayer for the person’s future sanity, Kira lifted her chin at her uncle. “You do realize Elena is my responsibility. Next time you make a decision in her education, I’d like to be informed of it beforehand.”

Kira didn’t debate the fact he’d made the right call. Elena deserved to know what it was like to interact with other Tuann the same age as her.

Kira just would have appreciated the heads up.

Elena was wild in the same way Kira and Jin were at that age. Kira would have liked to say Elise had been the same but by that point Elise and the rest of the forty-three had been long gone.

It meant her niece had to be approached in a certain way. Otherwise, Harlow risked another incident where Elena made off with the closest ship for a cross-galaxy adventure.

“About that.” Harlow tilted his head toward the hall in unmistakable command.

Kira shot a look at the children to find Ziva watching her with a cautious expression that seemed to say she was willing to throw herself into the breach if that’s what Kira should require.

Against all odds, the expression made a smile form on Kira’s lips.

She appreciated the girl’s bravery, but she hadn’t fallen so far that she required a child’s rescue.

Though if she ever did, Ziva and Elena would be the ones she’d call for help.

Kira didn’t pay much attention to those they passed as Harlow escorted them through halls that felt ancient. As if these passageways had existed for time immemorial and would continue to do so for millennia to come.

The home of House Roake suited its inhabitants, possessing an austerity that still managed to be impressive. It held a simple beauty that Kira didn’t think she’d ever take for granted.

The best part was the balance of the fortress’s defensive features and the offensive capabilities she knew it hid.

It would exact a steep price from any who tried to breach its walls.

Perhaps that’s why Kira felt a sense of safety even with an escort that made her feel like she was being marched to the gallows.

They climbed several flights of stairs before turning right down a hallway Kira wasn’t familiar with.

Ahead, a massive wooden door loomed.

It reminded Kira in some ways of Himoto’s office door. Not in looks—Himoto’s office door had been metal and average sized—but rather in the way it engendered the twin feelings of nervousness and a desire to leave the best impression on the one waiting inside.

Harlow reached the door, flinging it open before gesturing for Kira to go ahead.

With only the smallest sign of hesitation, Kira steeled her spine and stepped inside to find the room already occupied.

“What’s this?” Kira shot Harlow a suspicion-filled look as her uncle brushed past her.

Harlow moved toward the ancient looking desk waiting in a place of importance. Its surface covered in nicks and scars, evidence of its long history.

Comfortable looking chairs were scattered in front of the desk, each one inhabited by a Tuann.

Graydon winked at her. Caius lounged in the chair next to him.

Kira’s gaze moved on, taking in Makon’s respectful nod as Wren walked over to one of the few empty chairs.

In addition to Makon and Caius, Kira was also familiar with the other Tuann present.

“Silas, Maida.”

Silas was one of the very few Tuann that Kira had met who showed even the faintest signs of age. Crow’s feet lingered at the corners of his eyes, giving credence to the weight of centuries contained within his gaze.

He had a gentle demeanor. Quiet in a way that said he would listen to your troubles.

He inspired trust—even in someone like Kira. There was just something about him. Like he cared.

It made him very good at his role as an advisor in Roake.

Maida was his opposite. At first glance appearing to play the role of seductive temptress, clad in a few pieces of cloth held together by chains. The breast plate she wore was more ornamental than functional. There for appearances only.

But Kira knew her to be an accomplished warrior. One of Harlow’s most trusted.

Since they’d met during Kira’s training period prior to the uhva na, Kira had learned that Maida had quite the reputation.

Many outside of Roake feared her. Such was her fame that they’d even given her a name. The Red Witch.

Kira couldn’t help but like someone who could spark trepidation in others by her mere presence.

Perhaps a portion of Kira’s partiality toward the other lay in the fact that she’d learned Maida had volunteered to be Joule’s seon’yer when so many others had passed over him. Kira didn’t know if it was sympathy or if Maida saw his potential. Either way, Kira was grateful the woman had given Joule a chance.

Sometimes a chance was all you needed.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the little heir that my yer’se worships,“ Maida drawled. “Come to take him off my hands?”

“I think you’re mistaken. Joule is blessed to have a seon’yer of your rank. I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of him.”

Maida’s snort held little elegance. “You think I don’t know what his sister calls you?”

“Ziva is not Joule.”

Maida’s expression turned sly. “Then my yer’se has never attempted to pledge his allegiance?”

“No such words have ever passed his lips.”

The best part was she wasn’t lying. Kira had stopped him before he could commit such a monumental mistake.

As his seon’yer, Maida would have been well in her rights to take insult if Joule had followed through on his impulse.

The Tuann took their vows very seriously. A yer’se pledging an oath to a second seon’yer without approval of the first would have been a blow to Joule’s honor. The stain would have followed him through the rest of his life.

Maida stared at Kira for a second before she flashed a crooked smile. “You should know, if it’s you, I don’t mind sharing my yer’se.”

“You don’t want him?”

If that was the case, maybe Joule would be better off finding a new seon’yer after all. Consequences to his reputation be damned.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Maida made a dismissive motion. “I took Joule as my yer’se because I truly think the boy has potential that should be developed.”

Kira felt herself relax.

Maida held up her hand, making a fist with it. “You know mine and Joule’s affinities lie in different realms. If there is another who can teach him better, I will not object.”

Kira stared unblinking as Maida lowered her fist.

There was one other she could think of who shared Joule’s affinity. More importantly that person’s grasp of a shielder’s capabilities would be better than Maida’s—or any of the Tuann.

The trick would be convincing her to help.

“Wren’s new granddaughter, on the other hand, would make for a perfect yer’se to someone of my abilities,“ Maida said with a teasing sidelong look toward Wren.

Kira’s seon’yer stiffened. “You will not get your claws into her.”

“We’ll see,” Maida purred.

While the two debated, Harlow gestured at the sole unoccupied chair waiting in front of the desk.

“I’m starting to get the feeling this is an intervention of some sort,” she joked halfheartedly as she moved toward the chair.

Not that she’d ever been present for anything like that, but the situation contained all of the signs.

An ambush by those who knew and cared for her coupled by a growing sense that something was afoot. If Raider had been present, she would have been even more convinced that was exactly what this was.

Kira’s uneasy feeling was compounded when Caius made a show of looking at the air above her head where Jin would typically hover. “No friend?”

“Jin has always had a short attention span. He lost interest hours ago. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”

If by somewhere, she meant outside of Roake getting the lay of the land while also spying on any of those he considered a potential threat.

Caius leaned his chin on his hand. “Is that so?”

Kira’s eyes narrowed as she glanced at Graydon. “Are you two related?”

The longer she spent in Caius’s presence the more of a resemblance she saw to Graydon. The similarity lay not in their looks but rather their personality. The mannerisms they used to express themselves.

Even now, their postures mirrored one another. Both sprawling in their chair with a lazy nonchalance.

Caius barked out a laugh as Graydon straightened.

“We are not related in any way,” Graydon said in a suppressive voice.

Maybe not by blood but they’d spent time together. A lot of it.

“I helped train Graydon,” Caius said with a veiled look in his eyes. “For a while, he was my shadow.”

Friends, then. That could explain it.

“Don’t think you distracted me with that question,” Caius admonished playfully. “I would hate for your friend to get himself into trouble so soon after he got out of it.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“I hope so. House Roake might not be so quick to step in to solve your problems next time.”

Kira supposed that was a veiled threat meant to remind her that it was only because of their House she’d been able to escape repercussions this time.

“You don’t have to worry about Jin.”

As much trouble as her friend got into, he was reliable when it counted. He would keep a low profile as much as possible while Kira drew attention to herself, allowing him to act covertly.

It was a tactic that had always worked for them in the past. She saw no reason that would change—even if it was Tuann they were up against this time.

“I hope so,” Caius said with an unchanging expression. “For your sake if nothing else.”

Kira held his gaze, refusing to let herself be intimidated.

“The question of your companion isn’t why you’re here,” Harlow said, taking control of the conversation.

Kira redirected her attention to him, deciding the best policy was to wait and see. She couldn’t afford to let them bait her into any further unwise words. She’d already been stuck with the title of heir. She didn’t need to make her situation any more difficult than it already was.

“I understand your concerns about the girl and how you’ve been responsible for her safety for all this time,” Harlow started as a fine tension invaded Kira.

She shifted in her seat. The desire to stand and physically distance herself from what was coming was almost impossible to ignore.

She shook her head at Harlow, wanting to stop him from saying what came next.

Don’t do it, Kira silently warned as Harlow’s mouth firmed.

“That will have to change if you both are to remain in Roake. For now, I want you to keep a distance between yourself and the child,” he finished, landing a death blow on the last of Kira’s hopes.