Age of Deception (The Firebird Chronicles Book 2) Page 6

  He paused, and Amila and Noor, another of Graydon’s oshota, grinned before sprinting straight at the wall. Amila reached it first and leaped, clearing ten feet before finding a ledge and jumping to the next one. Noor took a slightly different route. He landed on the wall, running up it like he had grav boots on.

  Raider glanced at Kira and lifted his eyebrows as Joule made an admiring sound beside them.

  She nodded. She saw it too. It would be tempting to dismiss Noor's feat as a tech they had never seen, if Kira hadn't once been able to do something very similar.

  "This is your first test. There are many who come to us. Few are considered worthy of our attention and effort. To be accepted as an initiate, you must reach the top. You may keep anything you can carry." His lips tilted. "Choose carefully. Anything you set aside will be given to the sea."

  Both Kira and Raider glanced up at the thousands of steps twisting above the marshal. Whatever they kept would likely feel like it weighed a ton by the time they reached the top.

  "If you should decide this is not your time, the gate behind you will take you home," the marshal continued.

  Kira's mouth pulled down. If only that was an option for her.

  The marshal stepped aside and bowed his head. The Tuann behind them whooped, nearly a dozen racing for the cliff and the paths Noor and Amila had taken.

  Their leaps weren't as high or impressive, though a few, including the tall youth who had tried to stare Kira down, managed to make it look easy. None took the stairs to their right.

  Joule quivered at her side, staring at where the most talented had disappeared. It was easy to see he wanted to take that path.

  "Twenty credits most of them gas out before they reach the midway point," Raider challenged.

  Blue scoffed as she turned toward the stairs. "Nobody is foolish enough to take that bet. It's obvious they're weeding out the stupid and the arrogant."

  As she spoke, there was a cry above them as one of the initiates faltered. They plummeted. Oshota, unseen until now, appeared next to them, catching them before they could fall to their deaths.

  The oshota stepped off the cliff, the boy in his arms. He landed with a thump, setting the boy near the gate before turning and leaping to his post, where he almost faded into the rock.

  Makon regarded the boy steadily. "Perhaps the next time you come to us, you will succeed."

  The boy sent Kira and her friends a sulky look before bowing respectfully and striding through the gate.

  "See, told you so," Blue taunted over her shoulder as she started up the steps.

  Joule's eyes were wide before he grinned and raced for the stairs, passing Blue easily.

  "I wish I had his energy," Raider grumbled as he bent and reached for his two bags.

  Kira's headache intensified. Before she could think, she'd grabbed one of the bags, her hand closing on the handles at the same time as his.

  She bared her teeth at him. "Thanks for carrying my bag until now. I've got it from here."

  Raider's expression was careful. "Are you sure? It doesn't hurt to let someone help you every once and a while."

  Kira's eyes narrowed. Who did he think he was kidding? "Sometimes, when people think they're helping, they're creating a bigger problem."

  His smile was sharp and cutting. "Perhaps—or maybe it's simply that there are those who don't accept help gracefully."

  Kira was conscious of the marshal, and no doubt countless other oshota hiding along the cliffs, watching the byplay between the two of them. It made her bite back her normal response. Instead, she said carefully, "I've carried it this long. I can carry it up a few steps."

  If her voice contained a harsh edge and her expression looked mildly murderous, there was no helping it.

  Raider raised his hands and backed away. "Whatever you want, Phoenix."

  Kira straightened. If only that were so.

  Raider hesitated at the base of the stairs. He switched to Japanese, a language she was reasonably sure those listening wouldn't understand. At least, no one from Luatha had understood it. "Don't kill anyone." He started up, saying over his shoulder as an afterthought. "Don't let yourself be killed either."

  "If I were you, I'd be more worried about myself," Kira muttered.

  His smile was cocky. "I'm not the one with the reputation."

  Bullshit. His record was as bad as Kira's. Worse, in some ways, since he also tended to mouth off to people in authority. Hence, the reason he was still a chief petty officer instead of a senior chief petty officer. If he wasn't such a good pilot, he'd likely have been kicked out of the Space Force ages ago.

  Kira's smile was saccharine sweet. "Enjoy your second round of basic."

  Raider couldn't hide his grimace. Yeah, that's what she thought. No one who'd been through basic once wanted to go again. It was one of those necessary evils that remained with you long after you'd graduated.

  "I'm going to be an instructor, not a recruit," he muttered.

  Kira lifted an eyebrow. If that's what he wanted to tell himself. To her, it had sounded like he'd be a little of both.

  "Try not to let what happened last time happen again," Kira suggested.

  That shut him up. He sent a fulminating glare her way. She hid her snicker

  He pointed a finger at her. "That wasn't my fault, and you know it."

  He didn't wait for her rebuttal, jogging up the steps. He reached the first landing before starting up the next set at a slow, even pace.

  The marshal waited until the rest of the initiates had disappeared before approaching where Kira and Graydon still waited.

  "Do you often threaten guests with having their belongings tossed in the ocean?" Kira asked.

  Graydon's grin was unrepentant. "It is our way."

  Kira snorted. Why did she have a feeling that was a lie?

  "Daughter of our House, I greet you. It is an honor to have you among us again." Makon's serene expression softened, and real warmth peeked out. "Though I sense your presence here is not entirely by choice."

  "You could say that." Kira shook her head. "There are those who've convinced me to come here despite my instincts."

  Makon dipped his head. "Then they have Roake's undying gratitude. While you may not know us or have any reason to trust us, we hope you will find kindred spirits among our people."

  Kira tilted her head. "We'll see."

  She knew they wanted more, but that was all she could promise. Her soul had been scarred, and her path set long before they found her. She honestly couldn't see that changing now.

  The marshal straightened, wisdom in his gaze. "Then we will strive to prove ourselves." Makon spread his hands. "The Overlord has authorized me to offer you a choice. As a daughter of our House, your entry is yours by birthright. You may join us, and we will welcome you with open arms. You'll be treated with every honor we can bestow and have the best care as you heal."

  Kira's eyes narrowed. It sounded too good to be true. "What's the catch?"

  Makon hid his smile, approval in his eyes. "You will be considered a daughter of our House. That status comes with certain responsibilities. Leaving would be difficult if you so choose in the future. By accepting your role as a daughter of Roake, you submit yourself to our will. We will determine the course of your training and decide when—or if—you're ever ready for the warrior’s path."

  In other words, her future would lie in their hands. They could delay her advancement by years, if not decades.

  "And the other?" she asked.

  He nodded toward the stairs. "The same test; the same rules apply. All rights as a daughter of our House will be negated. Any position you gain will be through your own merit."

  Kira considered. "And the healing I was promised?"

  "Still yours, regardless of which path you choose."

  At least that was something.

  It seemed to Kira that the adva ka was the fastest way to independence. To get there, however, it had become clear she’d need the support
of a House. From Joule’s actions in seeking Graydon as a sponsor, she was getting the sense that she couldn’t show up on trial day and hope to participate.

  The Tuann placed a lot of stock on a person’s allegiances and House. If she wanted her shot at the adva ka, first she needed to win Roake’s confidence. That meant putting herself into the running for the uhva na.

  Admittedly, it was a long circuitous path to her end goal. Much simpler to steal a ship and escape.

  Kira had given up on short-term solutions for long-term problems. If she was going to coexist with the Tuann—and it was becoming increasingly obvious that was her only option—she needed to meet them on their level.

  Even if she wasn’t ready. Even if she’d rather spend her time healing rather than preparing for an unknown trial.

  She’d manage. Somehow.

  Maybe if she'd grown up among them, trusted them, then she could have taken option one. But she hadn't, and trust was something she'd never been good at.

  There were too many ways a caveat like that could be used against her. In the way their society worked, she’d be powerless.

  Something she'd sworn never to be again.

  Makon hesitated. “It is my understanding your illness has weakened you. There is no shame in taking the time you need to heal. Some might even consider it the wiser course.” He bowed and stepped back. “I will leave you to consider.”

  Mighty kind of him.

  Kira studied the stairs. It was a long way up. Reaching the top wouldn't be as easy as it seemed.

  The Tuann respected strength. It was evident in everything they did and the way their society was structured. Being able to defend yourself and others carried certain responsibilities, but it also meant it was more difficult to silence your voice.

  The warrior’s path he spoke of was her only option. When she finally left, her future dealings with the Tuann would come from a place of strength and independence. No one would question her abilities because she’d beaten them on their own playing field.

  Graydon studied the stairs as his head tilted. "If you choose not to join the initiates, it’ll be my pleasure to carry you up the cliff."

  A challenge sparked in his expression. It was enough to startle a laugh out of Kira. It also knocked her out of her contemplation.

  "Thanks, but I prefer walking."

  His eyes glimmered with appreciation. "You're decided then."

  She lifted a shoulder. Might as well. If the uhva na was her path to freedom, she’d walk it no matter the obstacles.

  Graydon moved toward the cliff. “Well then, it looks like you won’t be needing my services after all. I look forward to seeing you at the top."

  Somehow Kira doubted that. Now that they were on the Tuann's main planet, she suspected he would soon be consumed by his duties. This was likely goodbye. It wouldn't be long before he forgot her.

  She knew she should be grateful for that, but she couldn't shake the ache in her chest.

  Graydon walked toward the cliff at a sedate pace, breaking into a sprint when he was only a few feet from it. He was faster than a man his size should be capable of.

  He leaped at the last second, shooting straight up. He kicked off the air, reaching a height that should have been impossible. He was out of sight and over the top in seconds.

  Raider paused on a ledge as Graydon passed him, his mouth dropping open before he looked at Kira and raised his eyebrows.

  She shook her head slightly. Show off.

  Her gaze lowered to find the marshal observing her with a calculating look.

  Kira tensed, her hand tightening around the bag handle, knowing if he attacked, she'd have a hard time fending him off. She was exhausted and hurting, not fully recovered from the events on Ta Da'an.

  Perhaps all that talk earlier was simply that. Talk. Maybe Roake wanted the unknown nobody to go away permanently.

  Kira was weaponless, whereas she suspected the marshal had more than one stashed in his synth armor.

  She'd learned never to assume a warrior wearing the armor was unarmed.

  That left the bag she’d taken from Raider and the one at her feet as her only defense. Already her mind was envisioning using them as a club, or tossing one in his face as a distraction so she could escape.

  His lips lifted the slightest bit, and she got the feeling he'd guessed where her thoughts had gone in that moment.

  "As an initiate, you're entitled to our courtesies, but there will be no special treatment for your blood ties. From here on out, they will be considered unimportant. All that matters is what you can do and what you can contribute to the glory of our House. None in Roake may help you conquer this phase. It must be done on your own," he said. "Will you still walk this path?"

  It wasn't like she had much of a choice. It was that or death.

  And she preferred to live. That meant making nice with House Roake and observing until she got to the point where she could survive on her own without their help. If that meant completing this silly test, so be it.

  "I will," she said.

  The slightest glint of approval shown in his eyes, there and gone in a blink.

  "How long will this take?" she asked.

  "Longer, if you don't take the first step," he instructed.

  Hmph. Guess she should have expected that response.

  "This path won't be easy," Finn said from behind her.

  Kira gazed up at the obstacle in front of her. "Nothing worth doing ever is. Don't worry; I'm used to hard."

  It was the theme of her life. An ever-present reminder. Nothing in her history had ever said she enjoyed easy anyway.

  "Any tips?”

  "Don't let go of your bags if you want to keep them,” Finn said with a brief glance at the other Tuann. "They're serious about their threat. Other than that, it's up to you to figure it out."

  Kira snorted. "Somehow, the planet changes, and yet things always remain the same."

  Finn smirked. "I'll meet you at the top."

  Like ghosts he and the other oshota disappeared the same way Graydon had, leaving Kira and the marshal standing alone, the gate at their back, the sea beneath them, and the stairs in front of her.

  "Does it matter how long this takes?" Kira asked, staring at the twisting stairs as they threaded in on themselves.

  "Only that you complete it."

  "And if I don't?"

  "Anything that falls is given to the sea."

  Aw, the first trick. Falter, sit, and you were likely to get a little wet. Good to know. But he hadn't said you couldn't try again.

  Kira considered the two bags. There was little chance she’d be able to carry both up the stairs.

  She grabbed the one Raider had ceded to her. Why did she get the feeling that this was going to get more difficult the higher she climbed?

  There was no way to tell without starting.

  Kira set her foot on the first step and then started up at a controlled pace. If she truly didn't have a time limit, then there was no reason to rush. Slow and steady wins the race, as the saying went.

  A few piddly little stairs weren’t going to defeat her, the Phoenix, Scourge of the Tsavitee.

  FIVE

  Graydon moved through the place he'd once called home. The few Tuann he passed stepped out of his way, none daring to delay him.

  Not with that focused look in his eyes, one that didn't invite casual conversation.

  The place he'd once called home was ancient, steeped in tradition and paid for by the blood and sweat of generations. The fortress's design was brutally simple. Those who'd built the Fortress of the Vigilant had understood its purpose. Every brick laid was done to maximize its defense and increase its offensive capabilities.

  Perhaps because of its simplicity, it was a place of minimalist beauty. Graydon had visited many strongholds, spent time on countless planets, yet Roake's fortress was still among the most stunning he'd seen.

  Two oshota framed a massive wooden door at the end of the hallway. T
he door was functional, yet managed to be imposing, as if taking its cues from the man waiting behind it.

  Once upon a time, Graydon would have found the sight of that door intimidating. It would have loomed like a specter. More than one Roake Tuann had faced that door and felt nerves eating away at their stomachs.

  For Graydon, that time was over, his position and the intervening years blunting its impact.

  "The prodigal son returns." The tall man on the left greeted him with a faint smile. His chest was wide, and he had skin that reminded Graydon of the choko trees in the southern tip of the continent.

  "Veer." Graydon dipped his head as a sign of respect. "Is he in?"

  "He is, but you might want to compose yourself before you enter," Veer cautioned, seeming all the more amused. "You know he won't respond well if your control wavers even a little."

  Graydon held in his response. Outside these walls, he was feared, his reputation for swift justice and decisive violence well earned. He was respected, even as he was treated with wary caution. No one wanted to earn the enmity of the emperor's youngest Face.

  In these halls, however, was a different story. Here, he was still the undersized whelp the Overlord's brother had taken under his wing and trained.

  "Little Storm, you're not usually so off-balance." Indya was a tall woman with strong features and eyes that always seemed to be laughing. "Has the child worked her way so far into your heart?"

  Used to it by now, Graydon didn't let the teasing distract him. Most of Roake's oshota had assisted in raising him after his parents fell in defense of their Overlord.

  They'd acted as honorary aunts and uncles from the time he took his first step. In House Roake, every adult cared for the children like the precious treasures they were. That went double for the warrior class, where a parent might die at any time.

  Indya had taught him how to hold his sword. Veer had worked with him on his kattas. The man behind that door had overseen every step of his training, pushing him when he would have faltered, forcing him to stand when he would have fallen.

  He owed Harlow everything that he was. He wouldn't be the man he was without him.