Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sana’a strode through the BirdKage, giving herself a good talking-to.

How had she let him best her so?

She was so lost in self-flagellation that she jolted when her blades spoke to her. You weren’t to know until we were in his presence. Only then did we perceive that he is not who we seek.

Caught up in her silent conversation, she missed a different keen gaze tracking her across the sumptuous restaurant.

Switchblade. A word.

The new voice flooded her mind, and she froze, her head twisting in all directions.

Sika?

She was met with silence.

Sika?she repeated.

The stranger interrupted her panic. Your companion is taking a short nap. I’ll revive her in a few moments when our discussion is over.

Sana’a jolted.

Hades pyrrhuloxia. Her neural node had been hacked.

Once again, her heart rate ratcheted, spooked by her earlier mishap.

Who is this? she ventured.

A friend of a friend. I mean, you no harm; I want a chat. Please make your way to the rear of the establishment, where I’ll be waiting.

Sana’a’s gaze darted all around until she paused at a table towards the back of the venue, hidden behind an elevated, cocooned and private booth.

I’ll wave so you can see me.

She saw a hand extend up from a tall stand and beckon at her.

With an exasperated breath, Sana’a surged toward it, charged with indignation.

The sight of a dark-skinned synthetic creature with a luminous white smile greeted her.

The figure, in a diamond-encrusted jumpsuit, sat alone.

Their features blended masculine and feminine, with a short, shorn pixie cut and high chiselled cheekbones. Bright energy streams shimmered beneath its ebony skin, and its jade-green eyes shone with life and vitality.

Entrancing, beguiling and fokkin’ gnarly, Sana’a thought.

While impressed with her new acquaintance, she was unnerved and jumpy, ready to blade someone at the slightest provocation.

‘Greetings, Sana’a of the Shotelai.’

The long-haired woman sucked her teeth as she drew up to the table. ‘Is anonymity and privacy an absolute no-no on Eden II?’

‘Only when we have a plethora of dignitaries on the rock, followed by the ghosting in of a shikari SHärd-blader and dagger woman. We have a few enemies, so we tend to over-monitor events such as these per our security protocols.’

Sana’a cocked her head with a sigh. ‘Who are you, and what do you want?’

‘Sit,’ her new companion urged. ‘This might take a while.’

The Shotelai woman shut her eyes for a moment to compose her thoughts.

‘If you’re after any reassurance, I’m Mirage Sable, and I have a close affiliation with Zane Sable.’

Sana’a bucked at the name, remembering the sapphire-eyed meta she’d tangled with under the surface of this very same moon.

‘He sent you?’

The creature parted her mouth to reveal perfect android teeth. ‘He and another of the Riders.’

The shikari groaned and pulled herself into the velvet-lined bench across the ebony-skinned beauty. ‘What do they want? Because I dare not refuse the Sable Group.’

‘Perhaps it’s more of a case of how can we help each other.’

‘How’s that?’

Mirage raised a finger, and a server brought a steaming pot and two exquisite cups. ‘I’ve always loved a cup of tea. So soothing.’

When Sana’a began to protest as the beverage was poured, Mirage pointed another digit at her. ‘You need it to cleanse your system of all the ‘hol you’ve imbibed tonight. It will give you a clearer mind to contemplate what I will request of you. You’ll thank me later.’

The beguiling creature placed a tiny teacup full of dark liquid in front of Sana’a. ‘Enjoy.’

The Shotelai woman grimaced. ‘You’re used to being obeyed.’

‘More like listened to. Now drink.’

Sana’a drank.

Mirage did, too, then sat back between smoking a skinny synth cheroot with a slight smile on her exquisite face.

The brew was refreshing, and the Shotelai woman found herself gulping it.

As Mirage had promised, it helped to calm Sana’a after her massive miscarriage with the Katánian.

After a beat, she flicked her eyes up at her booth mate. ‘What do you want from me?’

‘I’m guessing you discovered that your mark today was not who you thought they were.’

Sana’a flung up a hand in exasperation. ‘Fokk, I’m not used to working this way.’

‘Apologies, but we run a tight ship on Eden II. We see everything.’

‘Never a truer maxim, as I’m coming to find out.’

Mirage gave a small, self-satisfied smile. ‘Thing is, Sana’a, I happen to know whom you seek. The people who conspired in the plot that led to your family’s tragedy. They included the recent-deceased Kíríga of Katánē. However, they did not comprise the man you tried to kill today,’

Three tragedies indeed. The loss of a father, the demise of a Queen and the destruction of a kingdom’s future and fortune.

Sana’a blinked, and then her breath hitched as she fought back an unexpected rush of tears.

She shut her eyes tight, only flinging them open when she’d composed herself.

She found Mirage’s gaze on her, compassion warming its jade depths.

‘I’ve an oath to complete,’ Sana’a whispered, leaning in, her silver eyes flashing. ‘My cause gives me most of my meaning and reason for existence. I would never make a mistake.’

‘But you did.’

The Shotelai woman gritted her teeth. ‘It was him. The King.’

‘Nada, the monarch you seek is long dead. The man you tangled with tonight is the current Katánian Král-In-Waiting. The Consort not yet on the throne.’

Sana’a blanched in shock. ‘If it’s not that arrogant royal outside on the terrace, then who was it?’

Mirage flicked a finger toward Sana’a’s wrist tab, which turned on its shimmering screen.

Sana’a shook her head at the blatant hack and chose to ignore it. ‘What am I looking at?’

‘That is the woman you’re after, the co-conspirator of the dearly departed King of Katánē.’

Sana’a stared at the holo, which depicted a sharp-faced, birdlike woman with cold, dark, and small eyes and the slash of a lip set within a pale face. Above her bare skull was an impressive krest of feathers.

Mirage leaned back, blowing a puff of smoke. ‘Her name is Kalila Khensu. She is a noblewoman, a hawk mother of the most influential eyrie in Katánē. She is the sister of the Kíríga, the now-dead king who plotted the betrayal of the Shotelai. Along with the Drákons of Isato and Tsu Zatan, monarch of the Zatan Moon Kingdom, whom we believe you’ve taken care of already. She is also the great-aunt of the man you just tried to murder. Who, as I said, had nothing to do with your family’s or planet’s demise.’

Sana’a fell against the seat, awareness hitting home, further cementing her SHärd blades’ perception. ‘You’re saying I had the wrong mark.’

‘You did. It was a close call. Had you even attempted your plan, you wouldn’t have survived. ‘Specially if your blade had nicked even a sliver of blood from his body.’

‘You don’t know how fast my swords can move. I’d have gotten away.’

‘Yet he unhanded you with his words alone,’ Mirage shrugged. ‘And it’s not him who’d have torn you to pieces; it’s his guards, the zero fokks-giving pair of Imperial Klós eagles he has shadowing him. Even so, you’d still have dealt with the Sable Riders’ collective wrath.’

Sana’a eyes flared with emotion. ‘Why so? What do they have to do with the Katánian?’

Mirage smiled wryly and leaned in, dropping her voice. ‘Not many are aware of this, but Killen, the Král-In-Waiting, is the son of Riv Sable. As you’re well aware, The Sable Group takes no prisoners when it comes to protecting their own.’

Sana’a lost her breath as if someone had punched her guts. ‘I’d no idea.’

‘There’s much you don’t seem to be across. Perhaps your rage for justice is clouding your judgment. Or could it be because your mother is ailing, and you feel the need to rush your revenge so she witnesses it before she worsens?’

Sana’a bucked once more. Leaning over the table, she hissed, ‘How do you fokkin’ know all this? Is this an attempt at blackmail?’

Mirage shook her head. ‘It is not my intention to cause you angst. However, the Sable Group needs you, in what we hope will be a win-win situation for everyone.’

‘Fokk, fokk, fokk!’ Sana’a cursed.

‘Temper, temper.’

‘I’m nae cursing you,’ the Shotelai woman clarified, huffing her breath out in frustration. ‘Just the shit-stained affair I now find myself in.’

‘De nada, no apology needed,’ Mirage commented. ‘You’re always free to speak your mind and profane your lungs out with me. I can handle it.’

Sana’a took a shaky inhale, taking a moment to calm her ire.

She slumped to the back of her seat.

‘What’s on the table?’ Her voice was drawn out, weary.

Mirage pursed her too-perfect lips. ‘Killen, the man you just met, is about to board his ship in less than a week and head to Katánē. A place he’s never been before. While he’s got more raw power and menace in one talon than most warriors across Pegasi have in their entire bodies and is well-versed in self-trained combat, he has no formal skills whatsoever. Given his recent fluke win against his grandfather, he thinks he can get by, but wisdom tells us otherwise. He’ll need a fight master to show him the ways of the blade so he can survive the sword and koya sābər fights. He has to pass muster on the planet and gain the respect he requires to capture the hearts and minds of the people he’s about to lead.’

Sana’a gave a low whistle. ‘Is that right?’

‘The problem is he’s a tad overconfident about his abilities. This is where you step in. We’re asking you to become his kísímí, as they call blade masters on Katánē. He may have rumbled you today, but he would have been disadvantaged once your SHärd blades started flying in a one-on-one bout without his guards to support him.

Sana’a’s brow creased. ‘Why can’t a Katánian train him?’

‘Because most want to kill him even before he’s set foot on the planet, enraged by his actions against the old King and his claim to the throne. Rumour has it many across Katánē see him as an unwelcome usurper. The ruling classes and those eyries of those who lost their hawk fathers during their latest civil skirmish are baying for his blood. He needs an impassive master. Also, one who can teach him an unconventional and street fighting style so he has the advantage of being unpredictable at all times.’

‘I see,’ Sana’a mused, still unsure. ‘But don’t the Katánians fight with talons, wings, and íkan kätu? I have none of those, ‘except for the SHärd blades.’

‘Your aether weapons are just as superior if not more capable than their sābərs, which they wield like swords. Remember, you’re not battling them; you’re training one man to flay and slay as you do with your blades. So he can use his koya in unorthodox ways unknown to his people, giving him an advantage over his foes. This makes you the best candidate to work with him.’

‘How about his guards? Couldn’t they hone his skills?’

‘They’re not fighting masters; they are his armourers. They can’t give him the guidance they need because they’ll be fending off his enemies to the right and left. They’re also running his army until he can step in as General.’

Sana’a shook her head. ‘He won’t listen to me, not after tonight.’

‘He will when he sees you in a match. He’ll be a fool not to.’

‘And how will this mystical occurrence unfold?’ Sana’a drawled, still disbelieving.

Mirage smiled. ‘You’ll fly to Katánē and set yourself up in their most famous fight arena. It’s situated in the capital city, Kos. You’ll wow the populace with your outstanding blade skills. The kəthi are celebrities on their planet. The best among them are rewarded for their skill with castles, lands, and courtly influence. They’re even celebrated as romantic heroes—livening up legends, poems, and paintings with their clashing koyas and chivalrous deeds.’

Sana’a shook her head. ‘Not my style. I live in shadows, not on a stage or platform.’

‘What you are is a professional shikari, and you’ve done worse with your intentions and blades. So suck it up. For a little while. Until he takes note of you. He’ll be intrigued about what you want on Katánē but impressed with your blade skills. Use that opportunity to let him hire you as his kísímí. It is up to you to persuade him you are the best fight master he needs.’

Sana’a sat back, her lips twisted.

‘You’re not convinced.’

The Shotelai woman gave the alluring creature a raised scornful brow.

‘Watch this,’ Mirage said.

She leaned in, flicking a second holo into Sana’a’s wrist comm. A privacy shield rose around it before imagery flitted across the screen.

It depicted two figures contorted midair above a white-hot salt plain.

Sana’a snapped forward as her eyes locked onto a gigantic chrome-winged chimeric being. His eyes blazed with silver flames, and his hands and feet were burnished bronze.

His face was like the sun shining at noon strength, and she recognised it with hitched breath.

He was caught in a plumed battle with a creature so monstrous and large that it obscured all view for a mile in all directions. Its wingspan was that wide and broad.

‘That is the Král-In-Waiting, in full Sābər hawk mode,’ Mirage said as the vision continued.

The two swooped, swiped and attacked each other, lost in mortal combat of such savagery. Sana’a’s eyes narrowed as she took in the holo.

The titanic-winged predator lashed with its brass beak and six-foot-long talons. Even as arrows of silver-white heat flashed from its eyes, sābər-like blades flung from its wings and crackling krest.

She raised an eyebrow as the man she’d deigned to kill fired off a set of his lethal feathers in one high-speed pass. When one of the serrated quills sunk deep into the chest and heart of the attacking Kɛstrəl monarch, he let out a mighty guttural bellow. Before plunging to the salt-crusted earth below.

‘Brutal, no?’ asked the Sable consigliere.

‘Without doubt,’ Sana’a responded, shaken by what she’d seen.

‘That was how the Král-In-Waiting vanquished his grandfather, the old King. The Katánians are vicious, and Killen is more so, for he has Sable metanoids flowing through his blood. But he got lucky. The Kíríga was old, overconfident and slow. Killen, as you can see, lacks finesse. He moves with speed, but he’s yet to learn how to control the body and mind as one. He has the hawkstone, which gives him past knowledge, but it cannot train the body’s reflexes. His last strike was a fluke as the old King got tired, and Killen also had the guidance of his father in his ear. However, should he ever face a true Katánian warrior, he will be lost. He needs you to teach him how to move and cut with the entirety of body, mind and soul. A Shotelai skill that -’

‘I’ve honed for decades,’ Sana’a interrupted with a sigh as the holo shuttered off. ‘How am I supposed to upskill him the same in a short time, which I assume is the case?’

‘’Tis. But once he learns it, his hawkstone will hasten his learning. He only requires the basics from you.’

‘So I’m to play caretaker to an untrained, arrogant and overconfident consort?’

Mirage gave a small laugh. ‘Sana’a, you criticise Killen too much. He was brought up in the wilds of Devansi and has none of the airs most royals do. While forceful and rough around the edges, he’s also among the brightest minds I’ve ever met and humble about it. Trust me, he’ll give as good as he gets. He’s an able warrior, too.’

‘A lucky one with good spider senses, but I doubt he has more to offer,’ Sana’a scoffed, still bitter from her recent encounter.

‘Trust me; you’ll find he’s stuffed with honourable virtues.’

‘More stuffed with his own hubris,’ Sana’a said.

Silence fell as Mirage studied Sana’a with a twinkle in her usual jade eyes.

After a beat, Sana’a sighed. ‘What’s in it for me if I choose to accept?’

Mirage’s stunning biometric eyes glittered. ‘Your mother and sister will receive the best care here on Eden II.’

Sana’a raised a brow. ‘I assume you’re aware she has an incurable cancer.’

‘I do,’ the ebony-skinned creature said.

‘Since the fall of The Shotel World, we’ve had issues with finding her chemotherapy, stem cell transplantation, or targeted therapies,’ Sana’a murmured, her eyes clouding over.

Mirage clucked in sympathy. ‘We’ll transport her from wherever you are hiding her and shelter her and your sisters here at no cost to you. We’ll get her in front of our most respected medics. Also, we’ll pay you well for your time until Killen compensates you, which I’m certain he will in due time when he realises your value.’

Sana’a narrowed her eyes. ‘You have such high esteem for him.’

The quantum intelligence’s lips twitched, ignoring her outburst. ‘One more thing, if you play your cards right, you’ll have unfettered access to his great-aunt, and whatever you decide to do with her is your call. You have our support and sanction as it works in our favour. Having her out of the way will pave a smoother transition for Killen to the throne.’

The shikari tilted her head, still unconvinced. ‘Does he know the Sable Group is plotting away his life? Isn’t he a grown man who can make his own decisions?’

‘True, he is, which is why we’re not imposing you on him. We’re giving him the chance to choose you. Besides, the deal on offer is well-founded, is it not?’

Sana’a cocked her head, thinking it through. ‘It’s not bad. Can I sleep on it?’

‘Of course,’ Mirage said, taking a drag of her cheroot. ‘Take as long as necessary, but we’ll need an answer by the end of tomorrow.’

Sana’a scoffed at the short notice. ‘Typical Sable shenanigans, demanding everything yesterday. And if I refuse?’

Mirage smiled. ‘We’ll find another way—we always do. You, however, may not. Now, sip your tea slowly. Those cups are designed to keep nutrients at the perfect temperature to nourish your mind, body, and ka.’