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Secrets Bound By Sand
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SECRETS BOUND
BY SAND
T.A. White
Copyright © 2019
All rights reserved
This book is for my dad.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DISCOVER MORE BY T.A. WHITE
CONNECT WITH ME
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
Deep breath. Patience. There was no reason to lose her head over someone else's stubborn stupidity. For one thing, it'd undo all the progress she'd made on her reputation. Worse, it wouldn't reflect well on Night, her companion for this little excursion and the entire reason they were here.
Tate tapped her foot while chanting to herself. I am nice. I am kind. I don't want to throw this woman out of a perfectly good window to see if she can fly.
Tate had done that once and it had been impressed upon her by several individuals that tossing people off high objects wasn't an appropriate reaction to any circumstance. She disagreed. She could think of at least three situations off the top of her head necessitating such drastic measures.
Tate gave the woman in front of her a stiff smile, quelling the frustration, anxiety and touch of fear knotting up her insides.
A deep breath later and she felt no more relaxed, just slightly lightheaded. She pressed her back harder into the chair behind her as she tried to project confidence and control.
Night was more successful than Tate, the epitome of regal remoteness as he stared unblinkingly at the person across from them. The only hint at his inner turmoil was the barbed tail flicking back and forth behind him in agitation.
For a being whose body looked like a cross between a barbed-tail cat and a sunbear, a creature designed for war and destruction, he appeared deceptively cuddly.
Only, Tate had seen him crush a person's skull in his jaws after ripping out another's throat. Any thoughts of how adorable he was, had died after that.
A golden ring of fur surrounded amber eyes perched above a broad, flat nose. His front legs were covered in cream fur and black rosettes. Brown, black and gold stripes ran along his back.
His ears flicked, the tufts of fur sticking out of them inviting Tate to touch. A mistake she'd only made once. Night might allow children to paw and tug, but adults were a different story. They knew better and touching without permission was a good way to have your hand taken off.
He yawned, displaying the incredibly sharp teeth of a carnivore.
“Night,” Tate warned. If she had to behave, so did he.
Those who didn't know him wouldn't have guessed his yawn was anything but a sign of tiredness. Tate knew better. Night didn't show his teeth unless he was serious.
The last thing she needed was for her friend to attack the magister who'd been appointed by Emperor Thaddeus to help Night with his application for sentient rights.
The woman across from them flicked a glance at her friend before focusing on Tate. She was tall and projected a no-nonsense attitude. Her hair was pulled back into a chignon. Her clothing was expensive and well-tailored, draping over her figure perfectly; it cost a lot of money to get that kind of quality. Tate had begun to understand such things since she'd formed a friendship with a women's clothes designer.
"We're at an impasse if he can't speak," Lisa, the magister, said crisply.
Tate shifted in her seat, uncomfortable at the way Lisa had ignored her friend since they'd stepped into the room, addressing all questions and comments to her instead of talking directly to Night.
She glanced at the bearcat out of the corner of her eye, noting the way his mouth was partially open as he stared at Lisa with half-lidded eyes.
"You should really be talking to him," Tate started. It was the third time she'd had to direct the woman's attention back to Night. Frustration at having to repeat herself was beginning to make her snappish.
The sound Lisa made was half-scorn, half-frustration. "You do realize the opposing side will want to question him."
"I told you I could act as interpreter."
"Not good enough," Lisa returned. "They'll claim you're faking the answers to help the creature. Your friendship with the Emperor won't help you in this situation. We have these laws for a reason and not even he can circumvent them—not without losing considerable support in his own government and angering a lot of powerful people."
Tate didn't know where Lisa had gotten her information, but she wasn't friends with the Emperor. She'd only met him twice and both times had left her deeply unsettled and slightly confused.
Night rumbled as his attention left the magister for the first time since they'd entered the room. He looked up at Tate, his mouth parted as his whiskers twitched forward in his version of a laugh.
"Oh, shut up," Tate said waspishly. She focused back on Lisa. "I'm not sure what you think you know, but I barely know the Emperor."
Lisa folded her arms and sat back in her chair, lifting an eyebrow. "I suppose you're going to claim you have no connection with Lord Ryuji either?"
"No, he's definitely an acquaintance," Tate admitted. It was actually a little more complicated than that. Ryu was dragon-ridden like her, capable of taking on the form of the dragon residing in his soul. He'd also made it quite clear he wanted something more from her.
"You realize the Emperor considers him family," Lisa asked, her tone arch.
Tate pulled a face. Yes, she was aware. It was a recent discovery she still hadn’t quite processed.
Lisa lost patience. "The Emperor asked me as a personal favor to take on this case, Lady Fisher. I don't appreciate having my time wasted on your whims."
"You think I'm lying," Tate stated, the situation and Lisa's brusque manner finally making sense. "You don't think Night is sentient or can communicate."
"That is an animal, Lady Fisher," Lisa said, stabbing her finger at the animal in question. "They might communicate but they're incapable of higher thought."
"You may not eat her," Tate said calmly as the muscles in Night's shoulders bunched. As an afterthought, Tate tacked on, "Don't scare her either."
He settled back down with a grumble.
Assured Night wasn't going to start trouble, Tate fixed Lisa with a hard stare, some of her previous anxiety falling away. This was a problem she could solve; something she could fix. That steadied her in a way her previous feeling of helplessness hadn't.
Lisa rolled her eyes, unimpressed with Tate's posturing.
It made Tate revise her previous assumption of the rationale behind the Emperor’s recommending Lisa take their case. She was getting the feeling he hadn't bothered to give Lisa many details, or shared much of Night's situation at all.
She wondered if the other woman even knew Tate was dragon-ridden. Her lack of fear would certainly support that theory. Most tended to treat Tate with extreme caution once they learned about the dragon she shared her body with.
Ilith inspired many reactions in people, fear being primary among them.
No, not a favor, she decided. More likely a punishment, but for whom? Tate or Lisa?
Tate
sighed. There was an easy solution to all this. But one glance at Night told her he was unlikely to cooperate. His entire tail was now whacking the carpet, shouting his mood for anyone paying attention. Unlike dogs, an active tail wasn't necessarily a good sign in felines. While he might have bear in him somewhere, Night definitely favored the feline half of his ancestors.
While Night could communicate mentally, it often took time for the connection to develop. The first time he'd started talking in her mind, his voice had been broken and disjointed, only every other word making it through. Couple that with the fact some people were naturally resistant to mindspeak, and her makeshift family had decided it would be best for him to take an interpreter just in case.
Now he’d decided to be difficult because the magister was being deliberately rude and insulting. This entire situation had “disaster in the making” written all over it.
At least she was here and not Dewdrop, their other friend. Dewdrop and Night together would have probably alienated the poor woman so badly she would not only have refused to help them, but would have made it her mission to have them blacklisted among her peers.
"There are many different levels of communication beyond verbal," Tate tried, still trying to salvage the meeting. Night's appointment for his hearing was coming up and it had been impressed upon her by several individuals how important it was to have someone who knew the intricacies of the empire's law on their side.
"Would you call a child incapable of speech an animal?" she asked.
"No, I wouldn't, but humans have long been accepted as part of the accords," Lisa returned. "One or two exceptions will not affect their status. Your friend is different. He has a much more challenging road ahead of him. It's harder to prove sentience, than it is to disprove it once it has already been established."
Tate sat back. Much as she hated to admit it, Lisa had a point. Perception was everything, and most people upon seeing Night for the first time, automatically assumed he had no more intelligence than an average animal. To them he was simply a beast the Creators had designed for one of their endless wars, a rarity, sure, but no more than that.
"If we're done, I have important matters in need of my attention." Lisa's smile was wintry, the dismissal clear.
Tate leaned forward and slapped her hand on the desk over the papers Lisa had been reaching for. "I'm sorry my friend’s situation isn't important to you, but it's pretty damn life-threatening for him. I'd appreciate you giving it your full attention."
There. Diplomacy. Dewdrop would be so proud. She hadn't threatened the woman or done anything else that could be considered unfit for polite society.
Lisa's expression didn't shift from her cool look of dismissal as she continued to tug on the pages.
Tate didn't make it easy for her, keeping up the pressure as they slid ever so slowly from under Tate's hand. She was left with the choice of pressing harder and watching the sheets rip or letting Lisa have them.
She lifted her hand, keeping her smug delight to herself when Lisa nearly hit herself in the face with the suddenly free papers.
"You can show yourself out," Lisa said, already focusing her attention on her next task.
"Come on, Night. We'll find someone else to help us," Tate said. "I guess the Emperor was wrong. She's not as skilled as he said."
There was the faintest stiffening in Lisa's shoulders as Tate's jab landed. Good. The woman was as closed-minded as some of those in the Black Order.
Night stood, his shoulders as tall as Lisa's desk. The other woman stilled, caution tightening her lips as Night stared at her for several long seconds before padding after Tate.
She held the door for him before following.
That could have gone better, Night told her once they were out.
Tate sighed. "You think I handled it wrong?"
He shook himself all over, his coat ruffling before settling. Tate took that as a no.
"We still have choices. I'll talk to Ryu, see if he knows any other magisters who can help us," Tate said, trying to inject a little optimism in her voice. It was hard. Lisa was the third they'd tried.
Maybe we should just give up, Night said, his mental voice crisp and deep. Nobody will hunt us while we're part of your household. Our situation is stable right now. There's no need to upset the balance.
"No, we're not giving up. This is just a setback." Tate automatically rejected his suggestion as she had several times before. Letting the rest of the world reduce Night to the status of an animal was wrong. He deserved the same rights and privileges as any of the three main sentient species of the empire. She'd settle for nothing less. "Remember, we're not just doing this for you. Willa and Pax may wish to explore the world when they're grown. They may want to own land or have a family. They'll have more opportunities as fully recognized citizens of the empire."
Not to mention, as the most recent member of the dragon corps and the only female member, Tate's position in society wasn't as stable as she would like. Recent events had shown her how politics might serve to take everything from her. If the worst should happen, she wanted Night and the others protected outside of herself.
He made a small sound, whether of agreement or boredom, she couldn't tell.
Their footsteps echoed against the marble floor of the vast hallway as they made their way through the palace.
Tate's hopes for this meeting had been high, due to its location in the Emperor's home. The fact Lisa had an office in the palace and hadn't been relegated to the basement with the rest of the clerks indicated she was good at her job. This fact, coupled with the Emperor's recommendation, had given Tate hope. It should have made this a done deal.
Instead, they were leaving defeated.
Frustration and failure left a bitter taste in her mouth, but Tate refused to give up.
The murmur of conversation grew to a dull roar as they approached the rotunda where several vaulted corridors joined. It was the central hub for this section of the palace, set aside primarily for government officials and their staff. If you wanted to leave the palace, you'd eventually have to walk under the rotunda dome.
As a result, the palace impressed an emphatic statement on all those who passed through. This was the seat of Aurelian power. Behold its grandeur. It was meant to humble and compel admiration, both of which it did successfully.
Everything in the palace was beautiful, even something as simple as a hallway with its vaulted ceiling and floors made of pale marble. Each piece of its architecture was crafted by master artisans, priceless art overlooking everything. It held a timeless elegance. No matter how much time passed, this palace would stand testament to the ingenuity and expertise of those who built her.
Tate and Night traveled under one last arch, exiting the hall and stepping into the wide-open area of the rotunda. To their left, stone stairs wound up the side of the curved walls to the three floors above, all of which had balconies overlooking the ground floor. The stairs framed the dome high overhead, the green stained glass creating slight patterns on the walls and stairs as the sun shone through it.
Clusters of people were interspersed throughout, some in the distinctive uniform of government officials. Others were dressed simply but with dignified precision. Not nobles, but not common folk either.
A trio of lifelike statues in the midst of it all caught Tate's attention. She was positive they hadn’t been there when she and Night walked through the area on their way to meet the Magister. They held themselves with eerie stillness, their predatory focus locked on the hallway Tate and Night were exiting. No expressions moved across their faces; their gazes dark and blank.
The trio was dressed all in black and looked like triplets, their coloring and features identical. They stood so close to each other their shoulders touched. With their long, black cloaks, it gave the illusion they shared a body.
"Tate Fisher," they said in unison.
Tate didn't pause. "You've got the wrong person."
Night prowled to her left
, putting space between them. It was a move designed to force the group in front of them to split their focus. If they attacked, they'd have to separate to go after both of them.
The faintest sign of confusion touched their faces. Her denial had thrown them off-balance. Good.
Tate kept moving, keeping one eye on them to see how they'd react. They had become the focus of the atrium, conversations sliding into silence as those present began to take notice.
"You are Tatum Allegra Winters," the one in the middle stated.
Alertness jolted through Tate. There were only a few people who knew her real name. These three weren't among them. None of her friends would have told them either. Which meant they were sent by an enemy.
She paid a little closer attention to the three. They were dressed so people would assume they were from the Black Order, a guild of thugs ostensibly meant to protect the populace from threats, but only if someone had the money to pay them for their work.
While the all-black outfit was right, it lacked the military precision the Black Order was known for. The cloaks also lacked the bright silver buttons or the crest the Order normally wore. The trio’s unnaturally flat expressions and uncanny stillness made her think perhaps their appearance was meant to deceive not just her but their audience as well.
"I think you may be confused," Tate said, still trying to find a way to de-escalate the situation. She didn't want violence if she could help it. There were too many civilians around to risk a confrontation.
She scanned the space for the Emperor's guards. A few of them would come in handy if her suspicions about these three proved correct.
"It doesn't matter," the one on the right intoned. "She is the one. Her companion confirms it."
The click of high heels against marble alerted Tate to someone approaching from the rear.
"What is going on here?" Lisa demanded.
There was no time to answer. The trio moved, their cloaks rustling. Several small dark objects flew toward Tate’s face. She dodged, her heart in her throat.
Lisa shrieked as several oblong thorns hit the stone next to her.