Chapter 26

TWENTY-SIX

After he left Jade's quarters, Dragek went to the weapons room, where he chose a pair of thin daggers. The blades were too long, not too short, and just the right weight and heft for his preferred style of killing.

That was all he needed. After all, Tarak wanted him to take this Amun alive, not kill him.

He was given a battle-suit, too; a skinsuit woven from saladin fibers, an exceptionally rare material that would allow him to cover himself in ka'qui and enter the state of qim— temporary invisibility. The suit had a hood, and there was a pair of soft boots made from a similar but more durable material.

When he donned it with a death-mask, he could become perfectly undetectable. Not for very long—as it took immense energy and skill—but long enough to infiltrate and deliver the fatal strike.

The weapons master—a severe, cold-eyed warrior called Tarkun—had scrutinized him with a calculating up-and-down look before letting out a soft grunt.

" Select your weapons of choice," he'd instructed, stepping back and leaving Dragek to his own devices in a weapons room that was bigger and better stocked than anything he'd seen in his life. There were Callidum blades by the thousands, plasma guns of varying range and power, incendiary devices, armor suits of all weights and strengths, and even thin Callidum-wire weapons that could be used to flay or strangle.

He could hardly believe they'd allowed him into that place.

It wasn't too long ago that he'd infiltrated their secure compound on Earth and attempted to kill one of their very own.

Tarak could have so easily made an example of him.

He could have brutally tortured him and displayed his corpse for all to see.

Before the Empire had fallen, that's what happened to assassins who were caught. A Silent One caught in a Mindbond was of no use to anyone except to serve as a deterrent. Most Silent Ones—at the command of their Mistress—would kill themselves upon capture. Those unlucky enough to be restrained before they could act would face the most brutal treatment from their enemies.

Silent Ones were often sent to kill other Kordolians in positions of power. If they failed and were caught, the targets would exact the most brutal revenge, for revenge was a Kordolian specialty.

And everyone despised the Silent Ones.

That's why he was so surprised by Tarak's treatment of him. Death-switch or not, he'd never had this much freedom before.

Freedom to spar.

Freedom to choose his own weapons.

Freedom to roam the Fleet Station at will and even enter a human's quarters. The Qualum doors to Jade's quarters had permitted him entry, and he suspected that wasn't by accident.

What was the general playing at? And Ashrael, for that matter?

He growled softly as he slipped a narrow belt around his waist. Attached to it were a pair of sleek sheaths that secured his twin daggers. "This is sufficient," he told Tarkun, who was watching him carefully.

The weapons master gave nothing away, not even an aura, and from that alone, Dragek knew he was extremely dangerous.

"I would offer you guns or swords, but I suspect you don't require any of that," Tarkun said in a deceptively light tone.

"Those things are useless for my method of fighting." An assassin relied on stealth, on the ability to get as close to the target as possible without being detected.

"Very well." Tarkun nodded in the direction of the skinsuit and mask, which hung in a receptacle in the armor section. "That's yours as well. I wish you good hunting, katach. "

Dragek flashed his fangs in a humorless smile. "I don't need your positive wishes, kilivar. " He used the High Kordolian word— blade-polisher. It could be an insult or a compliment, depending on the inflection. From his time spent dealing with the masters of The Program, he'd learned a few words in the Old Tongue. Enough to say a phrase here and there and know when it might have a double meaning. "My success has never been dependent on luck. I stand here before you in spite of a cursed fate."

Tarkun returned his smile with a cold, enigmatic curve of his lips. "Even in the most desolate of circumstances, fate can suddenly turn in one's favor. Are you sure it isn't luck that sent you to us?"

"Who am I to presume the will of the Universe?" Dragek growled, growing irritated. This Tarkun had never seen his face before, and yet he seemed to know everything about him.

There was something unsettling about him, too. The way the light particles reflected off his irises was different. They absorbed too much light. Almost as much as a Silent One's sightless eyes.

And he was as cold and impenetrable as the dark waters beneath the endless ice sheets of the Vaal.

"The Universe brought you to us, but it's you who will decide your fate through the choices you make." Tarkun clasped his hands together and inclined his head. Dressed in a long kashkan and with his long hair fashioned in traditional Aikun braids, he gave off a serious and imperious aura. "So far, so good, as the humans would say. You've had a taste of what could be yours if you continue to choose wisely."

Dragek walked over to the skinsuit and carefully removed it from its hook. He folded it up and took the death-mask and the supple boots.

That was all he needed.

"What I choose to do is my business," he replied coolly as he passed the weapons master and headed for the exit.

Tarkun offered him a curt nod. "Go and rest, Dragek. Take nourishment. You'll be leaving soon, so go and restore yourself."

Dragek's lips twisted wryly. If only they knew how little rest he needed. And he was feeling particularly energized right now.

As soon as he was out of the weapons store, Dragek released his hold on the curious voice that had infiltrated his mind.

Not that he'd really been holding her in any way, but he'd asked her to be quiet as he dealt with Tarkun because he hadn't wanted the weapons master to get the impression that he was distracted by the sweet passenger in his mind.

She couldn't see what he was doing or hear what he was saying—she wasn't inside his thoughts—but she could converse with him at will, projecting her voice into his mind.

How remarkable.

She'd learned mindspeech just like that.

Disconnecting from him was another thing altogether, but he'd show her how to do it when the time came.

For now, however, he was enjoying having her along for the ride.

I'm all yours now, he said, holding his battle gear in one hand as he drifted down the corridor.

What was that all about?

Work things. Preparations. I needed to get some things.

You're really going into battle, huh?

It's nothing out of the ordinary for me.

If it was nothing, you wouldn't have felt the need to come and tell me before you left.

Am I not simply allowed to visit the human I found? For trivial reasons? He surprised himself. He wasn't used to this sort of conversation—half-serious, half-amusing. And he relished it because he could guess how she would react.

You didn't find me. You walked in on my dreams. Her indignation was charming. There was a streak of stubbornness in her that resonated with him because he had one, too.

You pulled me into your dreams. I didn't ask for that.

Would you rather I hadn't?

No.

Huh.

For a moment, Jade went silent.

There was a bit of time before he and Ashrael were due to take flight. Tarkun's directions made perfect sense—eat, rest, prepare.

It was the rest part of the equation that interested him. Because he would have to nap, even if only for a short time. He'd heard that humans slept a lot. His kind, not so much. But a short period of rest would still be beneficial.

Sharper mind, sharper reflexes. Renewed by rest. In his line of work, even the tiniest fraction of a moment could make a difference.

Why don't you get some rest, Jade? You look tired.

How can I possibly sleep when I'm with… you? There was a catch in her voice; a hint of emotion he couldn't fathom.

She was human, after all.

Have you never had to fall asleep in the midst of chaos?

I'm not a warrior like you. I've always found it difficult to get to sleep, even when it's quiet and peaceful.

He had an idea. It's possible to catch sleep easily. I can show you how.

I'm a bit of an insomniac. I highly doubt your methods will work on me, but go ahead. You've made me curious.

In dreams, worldly barriers were nonexistent. Physical restraints disappeared.

There was more…

Freedom.

For the most unexpected of things.

And he had an idea.

At last, Dragek reached the nondescript Qualum doors that marked the entrance to his quarters. The tiny fibers unraveled as he entered, admitting him into a room that was similar to Jade's, except his furnishings were starker and less comfortable.

It was the quarters of a warrior.

Nothing more, nothing less.

He laid his skinsuit and mask down on the sleeping pod and lowered himself to a sitting position on the floor, where he felt most comfortable.

Then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply.

It's you who will decide your fate—through the choices you make.

Did that include following an instinct he could barely comprehend? This urge to be with her? Merely thinking about her was enough to make him hard again.

And the thought of being in a dream together…

It made him a little wild.

Because everything was different now.

Come, Jade. Let me show you. For one such as you, it will be easy to walk in the world beneath consciousness once you know how.