Chapter 32

Chapter 32

The shrouded woman’s metsai cloak left an invisible trail behind her as she moved with otherworldly grace.

Her crusher boots gave her lift as she hovered through the ornate eyrie, decorated with intricate carvings and gilded walls.

Her figure was a haunting yet unseen presence that ghosted past unseeing guards and yawning sentries.

Stealthed, Sana’a’s sorrow was hidden from the world, yet it lingered in the bow of her shoulders, and a shattering ache in her soul threatened to swamp her.

With a deep, shuddering breath, she moved onward.

She arrived at the door of the eyrie’s private wing.

Resolve hardening the length of her jaw, she pushed open the massive oak door, revealing a dim-lit chamber filled with glowing crystals and rich draperies.

On a sumptuous divan at the centre of the room lay a woman deep in slumber.

Sana’a tracked with slow, ethereal deliberation to the foot of the bed, her hardened eyes fixed on the slumbering figure.

The sleeping woman stirred, her lips parting in a soft sigh.

Her dark hair spilled over the side of the pillow, and the white fur and feathers of her coverings.

Her face, once prepossessing, was twisted, and one wing was hidden under a wrap of bandages.

Sana’a gave a thin smile of satisfaction at the sight.

She stood for a moment, lost in her thoughts, until she spoke in a whisper, ‘This is the only way.’

Slipping two fingers into her suit’s small front waist pocket, she withdrew a slim, long, flat, transparent box made of SHärd glass.

Flicking it open with her forefinger, she pinched the air, and a slender crystal-like needle formed in her hands just as footsteps sounded, walking towards the chamber door.

With pursed lips, she flung her shroud back on over her head and disappeared into the ether just as the door pushed agape, and a vile face peeked in.

Kishan.

His eyes, squinted and reddened with drink, darted around, suspicious, as if sensing her presence.

She stood still, unmoving.

Convinced no one was in the shadows, he shrugged and withdrew.

The door closed in his wake with a soft thud.

The shikari threw back her hood and returned to her task.

Leaning over the woman in sleep, she reanimated the needle and extended it to the woman’s foot, to the curve above her heel.

Touching its precise and sharp end to the skin, she pushed it in with gentle force.

It infiltrated into the dermis and melted under the surface.

Her quarry shifted in bed and murmured.

Sana’a felt nothing but bitterness.

She had come so far, endured so much pain, all for this moment.

She hoped the SHärd sliver would complete the task she’d purposed for it.

With a deep, steadying breath, she slipped out of the room and left the slumbering woman behind.

The sābər íkhara and fight arena was dark. Shadowed.

She flitted inside, inching along the edges in darkness.

Her heart stopped for an instant as a silhouette, burly and muscled, lumbered past, holding a light crystal to illuminate their way to the head.

She waited until they disappeared behind its doors before she continued.

Onward to the íkhara’s sleeping quarters.

A whisper of movement stayed her steps, but it was too late.

Without warning, a blade was pressed into her neck.

Her blood froze, the cold steel pressing against her delicate skin.

‘Think you can creep in and out at will, shikari?’

She couldn’t make out her captor’s face in the shadows but tagged the harsh, husky voice.

‘Leave us when we needed you the most, betray our fighters by aligning with the usurper and then come back when you want to? I think not.’

The Shotelai woman relaxed into the hold. ‘Kaniz, just the woman I came to see. I’m just here to pick up my phaser, swords and gorade that you took from me when I first arrived. Once you hand them over, I’ll be out of your rachís. And for what it’s worth, I feel like shit for letting you down. I apologise. Given you helped me so much at the start.’

Her attacker pulled back their blade.

‘Apologies won’t mean a damn thing now, will they?’ Kaniz snarled, still hidden in the shadows. ‘But welcome back, old friend.’

Sana’a exhaled a shaky breath. ‘I expect you’ve longed for this moment, haven’t you?’

The silhouette stepped away, revealing themselves to be her kísímí. ‘At first, yes. But now, I’m not so sure.’

She turned on her light crystal as she spoke, casting their face in its harsh glow.

Sana’a gasped at the sight of Kaniz’s face. ‘You’re burned, scarred. Why?’

The kəthi master’s eyes bore into hers, filled with defiance. ‘It’s a long story you don’t deserve to be tortured with. Just know that my life hasn’t been easy since you left.’

Anger and rage welled up in her eyes as Sana’a studied the woman before her. ‘What in shotel hell? Why?’

Kaniz’s lips twisted. ‘That stunt you pulled with Kalila in the skies above Kos did not bode well for us down here. The survivors have been pulverising my crew in retaliation. The no-kill rules have gone out the window. In under a day, we lost a young apprentice and two mid-fighters. I’m having to step into the arena to defend my people. And they’ve put their most ruthless against me. Kavaliers with no scruples.’

Sana’a shook her head in disbelief. ‘But this is insane,’ she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. ‘Why can’t you leave? This is untenable, you’ll die.’

‘If we escape, they’ll hunt us down to the ends of Katánē. In Kalila’s henchmen’s view, Kysin, Kiho, and Keb’s, we’ve committed the worst sin ever for being your ally and, by extension, the usurper’s.’

Sana’a thought long and hard. ‘I may have a solution,’ she murmured. ‘But it involves spiriting yourselves out of the city.’

Kaniz’s eyes lit up. ‘That’s not a problem. We can travel at night if need be. Where to, though?’

‘The Sābər Army kambí.’

Kaniz huffed and threw up one hand in disbelief. ‘Fokk off.’

‘I mean it. They’re looking for more recruits.’

‘Still raising an armed forces for the usurper, ay?’

‘Naam, I can tell you’re itching for a good clash, ‘especially if you want to get at those kəthikavaliers tormenting you. They’re with the enemy. So join the Kainôs and get back at them.’

Kaniz’s eyes gleamed with an unholy fire.

Sana’a seized on this. ‘Go and ask for Kaxim.’

‘The infamous Klós general and Kínduna?’

‘Him. Tell him you’re a friend of mine. He’ll hear you out and give you and your kəthi crew room, food and board as long as you’re willing to fight.’

Kaniz inclined her head for a beat, considering Sana’a’s suggestion. ‘I’ll put it to everyone; tis the logical answer. That said, you’ve been tousling with some savage shit.’

Sana’a furrowed her brow. ‘Why do you say that?’

The kəthi master’s eyes were locked to a spot above Sana’a’s eyes.

‘What?’ the shikari asked.

‘That,’ Kaniz drawled, pointing to Sana’a’s forehead.

The Shotelai woman lifted her hand to her head and encountered something under her tentative fingers.

‘The hell?’ she spat. ‘What is it?’

The kəthi master huffed, then searched around the room. ‘You’ll need a mirrored surface.’

The incredulity in Kaniz’s eyes was enough for Sana’a to reach her hands out and give a silent command.

‘I’ll use my blades,’ she whispered as her ether-like weapons shimmered into view on either side of her and flew into her grasp.

She pulled her left hand to her face, where the blade glistened like a well-polished mirror.

‘What the fokk?’ she hissed.

Shining in the centre of her head was a golden lodestone pulsing like a jewel.

‘How in freakin’ hell?’

She turned with a piercing glance to Kaniz, who’d since stepped back, eyes narrowed, hands over chest, and body locked as if anticipating her wrath.

‘Who’ve you been messing around with?’ the kəthi master asked, brows raised.

Sana’a slammed a hand against her thigh to restrain from crying out loud and, instead, took a series of sharp breaths.

‘How is this even possible?’ she exhaled, panting in a slight panic.

Kaniz gave her an incredulous look. ‘An old wives tale states that if a xkénos born slept with a kätu magus with enough íkan power, they could turn them into a Katánian. Wings and all.’

Heart pounding, Sana’a lifted her blade to gaze at herself once more.

You can control it.

The thought came to her mind in Killen’s voice.

She fell back at the startling sound, but for an unknown reason, she found no despair in her soul.

Still staring into her blade’s mirror surface, she blinked, and at a thought, the lodestone disappeared.

With another, it reappeared.

‘I can command it.’

Kaniz’s eyes flashed over her with interest. ‘Looks like you’ve more íkan in that small jewel than most provinces of Katánē. Whoever gifted it to you is powerful indeed. You’ll need to thank them.’

Although shaken to the core by her unexpected boon, Sana’a had no such plans.

Instead, she drew in a ragged breath. ‘What I need to do is leave Kos. For an unknown amount of time.’

‘No loyalty to us, or him, the one you fokked for your lodestone?’ Kaniz smirked.

Sana’a sucked her teeth and narrowed her eyes at her former kəthi master. ‘I go where the money is, and the collective kä’avi hate towards me means I cannot make a schill on the arena. I have to move on.’

‘Bullshit. But I’ll accept it, given I sense your secrets are many.’

The two women stared at each other for a beat.

‘Sante, Kaniz,’ Sana’a whispered, breaking the silence. ‘I appreciate all you did for me. You became like a sister to me. And if you know me well, you’ll know I treasure my sisters dearly.’

Kaniz’s eyes misted, and she clenched her teeth to hide her emotional response. ‘I appreciate that and will hold it close to my heart,’ she said.

The women embraced in a lengthy hug.

‘When will I see you again?’ The kəthi master asked when they finally parted.

Sana’a shrugged, her expression remote and desolate. ‘I’m not sure - I may never even return.’

Kaniz gave the Shotelai woman an enigmatic smile. ‘Never say never. So until then, good hunting, shikari.’