20. EIGHTEEN

eighteen

Graydon’s anger carried him down the avenue toward the Shining Palace. An awful, fractious thing that spilled in front of him like the preceding edge of a tsunami.

Amila and Solal and the rest of his oshota struggled to keep up, maintaining enough of a distance so they wouldn’t be caught in the seething mass of energy forming around Graydon.

Right now, he was a danger to everyone.

Moreover, he didn’t have it in him to rein in the scorching power of his ki.

His steps slowed and then stopped as he tilted his head back to glare up at the multi-hued colors of the sky as the sun set over the ocean.

This shouldn’t have been the fate of Harding’s daughter. Harlow’s niece should have grown up happy and safe in the bosom of her family and House.

Kira never should have had to think she was a monster for a single second.

Another coil of ki manifested, biting into the avenue and burning a hole into the near indestructible material.

Frustration lived and breathed inside Graydon as the knowledge of everything Kira had gone through settled.

He’d been confronted with the agony of her past before, but it was different hearing it from her own lips while she looked right at him.

It burned that she tried to downplay something that would have broken many.

He suspected it did break the forty-three. That this was part of why they would not return.

How did you face the families of those whose lives you took so you could survive?

That wasn’t all of it Graydon knew. The look Kira had given Jin hinted there was something more.

Something neither wanted any of the Tuann to know.

Already Graydon had begun to consider the possibilities. Each more terrifying and horrible than the last.

He hoped he was wrong even as his subconscious whispered that this was the reason she had been so careful to hold herself back from Roake and the Tuann all this time.

The repercussions if Graydon was right were too terrible to consider.

For the forty-three—and the Tuann as a whole.

“Do we have anyone we can send to Consortium territory?” Graydon asked, staring at the sky.

Solal and Amila shared a brief glance before Graydon’s First stepped forward.

Solal’s face was a mask of calm as he approached Graydon. “You wish to investigate the area where Kira was found.”

Graydon’s lips twisted into an animal-like snarl. “You know me better than that.”

What Graydon desired was a little more extreme. He needed these people hunted down and brought before him so he could destroy them so thoroughly that not even an atom of their existence survived.

Maybe then he would stop feeling like his flesh was too tight on his body, unable to contain the fury resting in his heart.

“Any evidence has likely long been wiped away,” Solal pointed out.

Graydon rolled his shoulders as he sent Solal a sidelong look.

Solal bent his head, hiding his slight smile. “I’ll see who we have available.”

“You do that,” Graydon said.

Now that there was the makings of a plan, Graydon felt the compression around his chest loosen.

“I will have some of our people reopen the investigation into the Sorrowing.” Amila offered Graydon a cheeky grin. “Discreetly, of course.”

“That is a given,” Solal responded in a haughty voice that made Amila smile harder.

Graydon started for the palace again, changing course for the sparring room where he knew the emperor and Devon would be at this time of day.

He felt the need for a little violence to help bleed off the rest of this energy. What better partner than the yer’se who insisted he was ready for all that came with the adva ka.

The sounds of sparring spilled into the hallway as Graydon waved away the oshota standing guard by the entrance. They acknowledged his arrival with a nod, letting Graydon pass unchallenged as they tilted their chins in greeting at Amila and Solal behind him.

The rest of Graydon’s oshota had been left behind once they’d entered the palace.

Graydon pushed into a narrow hall, columns forming a colonnade that stretched in either direction. Dim golden lights flickered as twilight deepened outside the many sky lights that marched the length of the room.

The emperor’s personal sparring room wasn’t the biggest his palace boasted, but its privacy was guaranteed. It was the perfect size for when he wanted to test his skills without drawing an audience.

Even better, every stone in the place was imbued with a technology that would repair any amount of damage inflicted by Torvald or his opponent.

The young man at the center of the floor looked up. The golden eyes his family line was known for standing out against his light brown skin.

There was curiosity in them as he took in Graydon’s presence.

“Seon’yer?“ Devon’s forehead wrinkled. “Are you here to spar?”

There was eagerness in the question despite the signs of exhaustion written all over him. He was coated in sweat, his face slightly red from exertion.

There was also a bruise forming on one cheek bone and the side of his arm.

Graydon knew if he gave the slightest sign he was interested in a match Devon would accommodate him.

It wouldn’t matter that Devon had barely enough strength left to grasp his practice blade.

All Devon cared about was creating a favorable impression on Graydon.

If it had been any other time, Graydon might have been tempted to test how far the other man could go.

But now wasn’t that time.

Graydon had too much pent-up energy to risk engaging Devon in battle. It would be too easy to miscalculate and injure him by accident. With how exhausted Devon already was, he wouldn’t have the strength to get himself out of danger if that happened.

Torvald patted Devon’s shoulder. “You’re not his match today.”

Standing next to Devon, the resemblance between father and son was more pronounced. Undeniable.

Torvald moved around his son, eyes the same color as Devon’s observing Graydon with an amused gaze. “My Storm, I’ll be your opponent this round.”

Graydon’s body had a predatory stillness as he considered Torvald’s offer.

A merciless smile formed as Graydon prowled forward. “I wouldn’t want to put you out. After all, you seem tired. Did my yer’se wear you out?”

Torvald’s eyes showed amusement as he watched Graydon approach. “There’s no need for taunts, little Storm. I’ve already agreed to give you what you want.”

Torvald’s movements were subtle as he mirrored Graydon, turning to keep him in sight as Graydon circled him.

“How do you want to do this?” Torvald asked.

“No ki.”

Graydon’s control wasn’t what it should have been. He couldn’t chance what might happen if it got away from him.

Torvald would likely be unharmed but nothing in this world was definite.

Besides, what Graydon was really looking for was the physical release of a no-holds-barred, drag-out fight. The kind where winners and losers didn’t matter. Only the ache that came afterward.

“As you wish,” Torvald murmured in a way that said he’d been hoping Graydon would choose that option.

The oshota standing on the edges of the room drew closer in anticipation, knowing they were about to watch something momentous as Graydon and Torvald stopped moving in the center of the room.

Torvald was motionless. The type of stillness that made you forget the other was a person and not a statue made of stone or metal.

The hairs on the back of Graydon’s neck lifted, his primal self knowing the danger before his brain did.

Graydon stepped to the side, Torvald’s en-blade cleaving the air where he’d stood.

Graydon’s body reacted without any input from his mind. One hand unleashing his en-blade before swinging it up to block Torvald’s follow up attack.

A second’s delay and Torvald would have decapitated him.

It seemed Graydon wasn’t the only one who was feeling pent-up and frustrated.

“You’re being a little harsh, aren’t you?” Graydon observed.

Torvald’s expression was slightly deranged as he bared his teeth at him. “You’re the one who asked for this.”

Torvald bore down with his sword, using his larger stature to try to break Graydon’s defense.

Graydon’s muscles screamed as he held his ground.

“I may have been a tad presumptuous in my request,” Graydon said through gritted teeth.

“Too late.”

Torvald forced Graydon’s sword down, before whipping his own up.

Graydon leaned back, the tip of his opponent’s blade whispering past his nose.

As soon as it passed, Graydon straightened and hammered a fist into Torvald’s shoulder, shoving the larger man back.

Torvald responded by kicking Graydon hard enough in the thigh that he felt it even through his synth armor.

Pain blossomed.

That would cause a bruise later.

Torvald came after him again. Relentless. His own defense an afterthought.

It was what made the emperor such a difficult opponent—and a trait Graydon had incorporated into his own style of fighting. Not many would be able to go toe-to-toe with someone who fought as mindlessly as they did.

It was natural to think of defense first. After all, you couldn’t win if you were dead or bleeding out.

But that was what made life fun—the risk and challenge.

Graydon blocked Torvald’s next blow, only to miss dodging the fist the emperor aimed at his eye.

Graydon retaliated by sinking a blow into the spot above Torvald’s kidney.

If the emperor planned to fight dirty, Graydon was happy to do the same.

The look Torvald aimed at Graydon was slightly murderous as he straightened from his hunch.

Graydon grinned at him.

“Very well then, little Storm,” Torvald growled.

After that, the fight was mostly a blur. Graydon lost track of who landed what blow, continuing to fight until his body begged for mercy and he tasted blood in his mouth.

Even then, they refused to end it.

They fought on until neither could lift their blade any longer and the breath burned in their lungs.

Torvald disengaged. “Had enough yet?”

Graydon snarled at the emperor, his arms developing a fine tremble. “I can continue if you can.”

Graydon was lying. Right now, he wasn’t even sure he had enough strength left in his limbs to return his blade to its sheath in his armor.

Calm was beginning to filter into Graydon’s bones. The surplus of energy that had sent him to this room settling.

He no longer yearned to rip everyone else apart.

Graydon considered that progress.

Torvald started to smile. A shift in the air around him caused his smile to fade as his gaze grew distant, his attention turning inward.

It was a look Graydon had seen on his face several times throughout the years. Usually when Torvald communed with the Mea’Ave.

Graydon waited, taking the towel Devon offered and wiping his face.

He winced as the towel brushed across one of the open cuts on his cheekbone.

“That was—“ Devon trailed off, looking like he didn’t know whether to be thrilled at having a front seat to their match or terrified about whether he’d ever reach their level.

He needn’t have been concerned. He showed promise. Graydon wouldn’t have taken him under his wing otherwise—no matter who he was related to.

“We were right. The Mea’Ave has opened the adva ka,“ Torvald said on a shaky exhale.

Devon’s hands clenched at his side.

For him, this was exciting news. The chance he’d been waiting for all this time.

The desire to prove himself was what drove him—and so many other Tuann.

Torvald studied his son, the look in his eye distant.

Graydon could see his desire to hold Devon back. To keep him safe and protected where there was little chance of danger.

“We must step out of our forebear’s shadows at some point,” Graydon told the emperor. “You taught me that.”

As much as Torvald wanted to protect Devon, it would only cause harm and do him a disservice in the end. Whether Torvald liked it or not, his son had too much of him to stay on the child side of the adva ka forever.

Torvald touched one of the swollen bruises Graydon had left on his face. “Next time try not to hit so hard.”

Graydon’s bow was a touch mocking. “Only if you promise to do the same.”

“Impudent child.”

Graydon raised his head. “Weren’t you the one who taught me to be this way?”

Torvald’s scoff made Devon hide his smile. “Don’t blame me for that. Harlow is the one responsible. I simply inherited your bad traits.”

The emperor handed his blade off to one of his waiting oshota.

“Send out the call, my Face.” The emperor strode toward the door. “It is time to see if your Kira is as capable and trustworthy as you claim.”

Several days later, chatter rose from the seats around Kira as she stared out the window of the hovercraft. An endless expanse of trees spread to the horizon as the craft zoomed by, its air wash ruffling their crowns.

In the far distance, Kira could make out a break in the tree line and the impression of a large structure.

Before she could determine its details, the craft’s trajectory changed.

Bored with the view of trees, Kira looked away from the window.

The craft was at capacity, full of adva ka hopefuls and their seon’yers. There was an electric buzz in the air that fed off the excitement and nerves of those around her.

The prospective Roake hopefuls for the adva ka numbered a handful. In addition to Joule and Devon who sat quietly by themselves on the opposite side of the aisle from Kira, she recognized two.

She knew Rheya and Blake in passing from her time spent training in Roake.

The rest of the dozen were strangers. She was betting from the looks they were sending her, part envy and part curiosity that they had passed the uhva na, Roake’s own smaller version of the adva ka, before her.

From what Joule had told her, it was rare, but not unheard of, for a Tuann to go straight from obtaining a seon’yer to the adva ka.

Usually, it took years. Sometimes decades depending on how strict the seon’yer was and how talented the yer’se.

The fact that not only Kira but also several others in the same training class as her were advancing so quickly had likely led to jealousy.

Kira dismissed their gazes with a shrug.

Envy her all they liked; she’d earned her stripes. For her, the adva ka was merely a formality.

Next to her, Raider was a quiet presence as he leaned his head against the seat with his eyes closed.

Getting some shut eye before the uncertainty of what was coming felt like a good idea, but someone had to keep an eye on things.

Finn had told her enough about the adva ka that she knew it wasn’t uncommon for Tuann to knock their fellow initiates out of the running. While she didn’t want to think Roake would practice that against members of their own House and allies, Kira wasn’t going to put her trust in that.

History was written by those who betrayed their nearest and dearest.

So, Raider could sleep while Kira kept an eye on things. Later he’d return the favor if need be.

Besides, Kira was more interested in learning what Roake was planning than getting a few minutes of rest.

It was clear they were up to something. She just hadn’t figured out what—yet.

If she had to guess it was some type of initiation.

Pretty much every military organization had something. The Curs did and so did most of the ships she’d served on.

Sometimes it was as simple as buying a round of drinks for your squad mates the first time you went out on the town with them. Other times it was completing an insane workout that left you flattened by the end.

This scene had a similar vibe.

Movement came from up front as Harlow stood to face the initiates.

Kira nudged Raider in the side.

His eyes opened a crack. “Are they finally about to get started?”

“Looks that way.”

He sat up with a yawn, alertness quick to replace his sleepiness as he gave Harlow and the rest of the seon’yers standing at the front of the aircraft his full attention.

“What’s your guess? Leave us in the middle of nowhere or something like you faced during your training session?” Raider asked, attracting Joule and Devon’s interest.

“I’m sure whatever it is will be good.” Kira held onto the back of the seat in front of her as she looked forward.

The armor she wore was of Tuann design, identical to the one Auralyn had fitted to her before her final race for the quorum. It was lightweight and as durable as any combat armor she’d ever worn.

Many of those around her were outfitted with something similar, including Raider.

“You look almost Tuann,” Kira informed him.

It was true. The armor gave him the same aura of sleek danger that all Tuann seemed to project—at least the ones Kira hung around.

Raider shoved her with his shoulder as Harlow addressed the initiates.

“Roake has a reputation as the strongest House.” Harlow didn’t shout yet somehow his voice managed to fill the space. “That starts here.”

The walls in the back half of the hovercraft slid open.

Wind buffeted those inside as a few initiates were ripped from their seats.

“Members of Roake and its subordinate Houses earn what they receive.” A slow grin replaced Harlow’s serious expression. “They don’t accept free rides.”

The ship tilted before anyone could react.

Kira caught Joule’s and Devon’s startled exclamations before they, like the majority of those assembled, were jettisoned.

A woman with dark hair and skin and eyes that held laughter crowed as she nudged the person beside her. “Guess you owe me the next round this time. Your yer’se failed to outlast mine.”

The burly man beside her had a gruff expression on his face as he scratched his beard-covered jaw. “Yeah, yeah. The adva ka isn’t over. We’ll see how many rounds I need to buy before the end.”

Raider patted Kira on the shoulder giving her a hand sign that meant “see you below.”

“What—“ Kira started as Raider jackknifed to a standing position.

He let out a whoop before sprinting toward the back of the vessel and taking a flying leap into midair. His arms and legs went wide as he arrowed toward the ground below.

She watched him go, shaking her head. The man was every bit as crazy as he’d always been—long lost daughter or not.

Kira lost sight of him in the trees but couldn’t bring herself to worry. She had every bit of faith that Raider would find a way safely to the ground.

She was more interested to see what the next few minutes held for her.

Kira leveraged to standing, a little surprised when she looked to her left and then her right to find she was the last initiate left.

The conversation at the front of the aircraft faded as the seon’yers began to realize not all of the initiates had fallen for the trap they’d lain.

More than one considering stare found its way to her. Most surprised on one level or another. A few looked impressed.

Silence descended as Kira studied them with an alert gaze. Harlow’s expression was hard to read as he regarded her evenly for several seconds.

An oshota Kira didn’t recognize said something, sparking laughter in the others.

Harlow’s mouth quirked seconds before he advanced on Kira.

She held still, jealous of how steady his balance was given the strong winds still buffeting the inside of the craft.

She’d like to know how he did that.

She glanced at his boots. An application of ki she didn’t yet know? Or maybe a function of his synth armor since the rest of the initiates hadn’t seemed to know how to circumvent their ejection?

“As talented as you are, niece, even you must follow tradition,” Harlow informed Kira.

Any question she might have asked died a vicious death as Harlow shoved her hard. A force caught her body, yanking her out of the aircraft before she could resist.

A strangled curse left her as she plummeted.

“Find your own way to the arena, niece,” Harlow said, his voice sounding like he was speaking right next to her.

Kira let herself fall for a second longer, her gaze on the turbulent gray of the clouded sky and the sight of Roake’s hover craft streaking over the trees.

Feeling resigned, Kira flipped in midair so her front side was facing the ground.

The trees that had seemed so small when seated in the craft loomed larger with every passing moment.

Kira watched their approach, her body tensing.

Her hands clenched and then opened as she reached for her ki. It flooded her senses, like a hyperactive toddler released from its leash.

It changed the air around her, slowing her descent as she broke into the canopy of the forests.

Branches cracked, unable to take her weight.

Kira grabbed one, letting go the moment it snapped. She landed on another, using it to change the trajectory of her fall.

She landed hard on the ground seconds later.

Kira straightened, using every one of her senses to check out her immediate surroundings.

The distant sound of birds trickled to Kira. The trees whispered to themselves, their voices louder and more distinct than the last time she’d walked among them.

There were no signs of Tuann presence nearby. For now, Kira was alone.

Her stance relaxed. “Jin, can you give me an idea of where I am?”

Silence filled their comms.

“Communications blackout. Lovely.”

That meant she had no way of contacting Raider or anyone else. She supposed that was the point.

It wouldn’t be much of a test if the initiates could rely on those stronger than themselves.

Kira wiped her hands on her armor as she looked around. “Would have been nice if they’d given me a hint on which way to go.”

That they hadn’t must mean this was also part of the test.

Kira used her time to get her bearings. She turned in a circle. Unless her instincts failed her, Roake’s fortress and the city lay in that direction.

The trees seemed to agree as the wind set their branches swaying.

Kira studied them, noting the direction of the broken branches. The ship had been traveling in a northwestern path. A normal person would estimate that if she continued in that direction, she’d find the place she was supposed to go.

Of course, that was assuming that Harlow hadn’t chosen a deliberately misleading route. Something she was finding she couldn’t put past her uncle.

He and Graydon might as well have been related given their preference for the art of deception.

All she needed to do was solve the puzzle before her. Until she figured it out, there was no point moving from the spot where she’d landed. To do otherwise held the potential to lead her astray.

In this forest, that would be a mistake.

Already, darkness crept along the edges. Wander without a purpose and there was every chance it would try to swallow her.

The forest felt almost sentient as it waited for her to make a choice.

Kira set her palm on the tree next to her, tuning her senses to pick up the faint trace of consciousness contained within.

A spark lit deep in her mind as something in her chest drew her to the north and west, a few degrees off the path of Roake’s vessel.

It was like a lodestone, trying to guide her home.

Kira’s eyes opened. “Of course, the forest on a Tuann planet would be as strange as everything else.”

She lifted her palm from the tree, whispering a soft “thank you”. With the feeling in her chest acting as her compass, Kira trudged forward, hoping she didn’t have far to travel.

Hours later, Kira was hot and thirsty despite the cooler temperatures as she finally left the trees behind. A massive stone monolith jutted into the sky before her, a lake carved into the ground at its feet.

Kira resisted the allure of the water as she skirted its edge, heading for the large opening she could see in the rock face of the monolith.

She eyed a pair of wooden gondolas waiting on the banks of the lake for any brave enough to risk the water.

They were tempting, but Kira had one too many encounters with the lu-ong, who seemed able to mysteriously travel through the depths of any body of water, to trust it wasn’t a trap.

It was exactly the type of thing the Tuann might do. Offer a shortcut that ended up being a massive pain in the ass.

No, thank you. Kira preferred the longer but less treacherous path. At least until circumstances dictated otherwise.

She plodded over the sandy shores of the lake, working her way around until she stood in front of a sizable cave.

Despite the natural features of the entrance, Kira suspected she was in the right place given the complicated set of carvings surrounding the mouth of the cave.

The symbols reminded her of the archways that dotted the surface of Ta Sa’Riel. The gates acted as a type of teleportation device, enabling those who stepped through to travel instantly from one point to the next.

It was a significant technological advancement that the Consortium was decades from replicating.

Kira couldn’t help admiring the cleverness behind its placement here. The gates would allow initiates and others access to the site for the duration of the adva ka while also denying them knowledge of the test’s exact location.

Its presence protected the site from those forces that might seek to take advantage of it.

The shadows stirred as an oshota appeared in Kira’s peripheral vision. Her synth armor proclaiming her as Roake.

The woman provided silent witness as Kira marched toward the mouth of the cave.

Kira stepped through.

A charge skated along the surface of her skin. The world tilted around Kira, depositing her into an immense corridor that reminded her of the architecture from humanity’s ancient history.

Many of those buildings had been destroyed in the war with the Tsavitee but Kira had seen pictures of them. Enough that she imagined those halls had once been infused with the same weight that came from centuries of use.

It was like a soul resided in this place. Fed by the thousands of visits from Tuann over the years. A feeling of community and connection wound through every inch of the space.

It was as comforting as it was intimidating.

A reminder that even as powerful as the Tuann were—or could be—they were still no more than a speck in the long existence of the universe. No more consequential than a tiny ant.

The floor of the hall was flat and glossy, echoing with Kira’s footsteps as she moved forward.

Columns ran the length of the avenue. Each one carved with a motif that Kira suspected belonged to a Tuann House.

Roake’s lu-ong wasn’t hard to spot among the various insignias.

Vaulted arches supported the high ceiling.

“Humans would call those a groin vault or a double barrel vault.” Amila’s voice came from the columns on the right side as she moved into view. “I always found it interesting how many terms they can use to describe the exact same thing.”

“You’re joking,” Kira said.

Amila shook her head, still staring up at the vaults in the ceiling. “You’d think but no. That’s really what they’re called. You can look it up.”

Kira narrowed her eyes at the oshota, moving further down the avenue as Amila strolled beside her. “I didn’t peg you as someone with an interest in architecture.”

The words made Kira realize how little she knew about the woman at her side.

In a strange sort of way, Kira considered Amila as a friend. Their acquaintance had been short—but memorable. The fact Kira hadn’t taken even a small bit of interest in Amila’s personal life made her realize the other might not feel the same about her.

“My family wasn’t always oshota. The first of our line helped build the Citadel and the Shining Palace.” Amila sent Kira a wink. “Humans would call this a hobby, I think. A pursuit I enjoy but not something I’d want to do every day.”

Kira returned Amila’s smile as they reached the end of the corridor. Amila nodded at the doors in front of Kira. “Your destination is through there.”

Kira started for the entrance.

Amila’s voice followed her. “There was a bet going on which initiate would be first through those doors this year. I’m happy to say Graydon and I won.”

Kira sent her a smile. “You know that means you owe me a drink later.”

Amila smirked. “Pass this and I’ll buy you all the keeva your body can handle.”

“Deal,” Kira said over her shoulder.