Gentle Chains (The Eleyi Saga Book 1) (14 page)

Chapter 18

Juhan’tr

“DADDY’LL BE LEAVING SOON.”

Sadi is sitting on my bed, legs crossed under her, eyes bright. I glance
up from the vid screen I’ve been scanning—another article about us, about the
dinner and the anger from the IPS. “I still don’t understand why
we’re
going.”

She tugs the screen from my hand, wordlessly demanding my attention.
“Because the reason I’m not going back to Faculatas is that I’m shadowing
Daddy, learning about politics. If I want to be believed, I need to actually
stay with him.”

“Do you care about politics?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve grown up surrounded by politics, on New
Earth and here, and it’s so familiar that falling into it is like breathing.”

She doesn’t continue, but I feel the reservation in her thoughts and
nudge her. “But?”

“It’s frustrating. I don’t like the games, the lies, the way everything
seems to be motivated by money. I want to
do
something for people. It used to be politics was the way to do that. Now,
the IPS is so twisted in on itself, they don’t get anything done.”

“So you found me,” I finish, letting a slip of lust settle around her.
It’s easier than it used to be. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, and
I don’t want to analyze it.

A flush runs up her cheeks, and she looks at the bed, the thin blanket
that I almost never use, anywhere but at
me
. “I’m probably making a
mistake,” she says to her hands. “Everyone thinks so even if Brando is the only
one who will call me an idiot.”

“Why do it?” I ask, touching her hand. It’s becoming easier to make
these gestures—I don’t flinch from it. It draws her eyes up for a heartbeat,
and something flashes across her psyche so fast I can’t get a read before it’s
gone.

Then she laughs, flashing a bright grin at me. “Why not?” She stands,
leans over to kiss me, a barely there brush before she slips away. I watch her.
And I realize it is harder to find the disgust I should have for my owner.

The Senator announces his plans to leave the next day. I can feel his
quiet resolve, Brando’s restless energy, tension that fills the entire house.

“We’ll all go to return Zoe to Faculatas. After, I thought we might stop
by Geurin. It’s been a long time since I’ve visited the auction houses.”

“Daddy, let me come,” Zoe says, twisting her spoon through the cold
coconut soup.

“No.” Harvine doesn’t hesitate.

“Sadi was going with you when she was my age,” she says.

Sadi’s spoon clatters down and she glares at her younger sister. Harvine
answers before Sadi can. “She was different.” His gaze slides to Brando, and he
sighs. “Sadi grew up too soon. You don’t need to do the same.”

“I’m not a child!” she snaps.

“Then quit acting like one,” Sadi answers, setting her napkin down. The
words hit Zoe like ice water, shocking and painful.  I’ve never heard Sadi
speak to Zoe like this. There are moments of amusement, tolerance, even frustration,
but this is first time I’ve felt her anger directed at her sister.

“Daddy made his decision. And like it or not, you’re fourteen. That is
not
old enough for the auction houses.”

“Don’t,” Zoe says, her voice shaking. “Don’t act like my mother. You
aren’t. My. Mother.”

Sadi stares, cold and remote, something wordless passing between them.
Zoe stands stiffly. “I’ll be packing if anyone needs me. Not likely, but just
in case.”

The door slides shut behind her, and Harvine gives Sadi a censorious look.
“She would have listened. You didn’t need to get involved.”

She shrugs, picking up her spoon. Harvine watches her silently, and then
resumes eating, precise neat bites of omelet.

-Why?-
I ask and her grip tightens momentarily on her
spoon.

-She
needs to be angry at one of us. And she can’t stay angry at me. Never could.
But Daddy, she can. And it would be too easy for her to hate him.-

I stare at her as she goes back to her dinner. I stare for so long that
Brando, sitting to the right of the Senator, shifts in his seat.

Sadi’s eyes dart to him, following his gaze to me. A blush colors her
cheeks, and I smile, letting an edge of longing slip into my eyes.

Let them think I want her. That the ever-present longing and desire in
me is for her, and not for Eleyiar and Chosi.

-Stop staring,-
she
demands, and I grin before my eyes drop to my soup. I take a bite and force my
thoughts away from my sister who would adore the sweet spice.
 
Force myself to focus on Sadi.

Today, for the first time, I’ve seen something in her that makes me
think I could make this lie of love something real.

And that terrifies me.

“Go away, Sadi.”

I knock on the door again, and call out, “It’s not her.”

A muffled oath, and then the door slides open and I step into the
cluttered room. Clothes, vid screens, an expensive tablet, shoes and—oddly—a
katana blade, are strewn across the bed, the floor and desk. The scents of soap
and fantas blooms and steel fill the room, and I grin. I will never smell this
particular combination without thinking of Zoelle Renult.

She steps out of her bathroom and glares at me, hands on her hips. “Did
she
send you here?”

I shake my head, too startled to speak. Zoe stalks to her bed, shoving
things aside to plop down, folding long legs under her. She wears a microscopic
pair of shorts, and a top almost as small. I can’t help but wonder what the
gossip networks would say if they knew I was in her room when she was dressed
like that.

She reaches for the katana, and I step back as the steel blade shivers
through the air. “I know what she’s doing, you know. I’m young but I’m not
stupid.”

“Then why are you mad at her?”

She glares, bright green eyes glittering with tears she refuses to shed.
“Because she shouldn’t try. If Daddy is going to do this—and we all know it’s
his idea—then I
should
be mad at him. She doesn’t have to protect him,
and she doesn’t have to protect me. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“But you
are
her younger
sister. I would do anything to keep mine safe, just like Sadi would.”

That makes her pause, and she hesitates as she reaches for a rag to
polish her blade. “You have a sister?”

A sharp pain goes through me as I allow myself to think of her, reach
for her, and find nothing. “A twin.”

The anger has left her voice, leaving it oddly hollow, when she asks,
“When was she Taken?”

“Just before I met Sadi.”

“How?” she whispers.

I smile bitterly. “Does it really matter? In the end, the result is the
same. I couldn’t protect her, and I should have. Let Sadi do this.”

I rise, and walk to the door, which glides open.

“I’m sorry,” she says, softly. “For your loss.”

I bare my teeth in a fierce smile, remembering my vow. “Don’t be. She’s
coming home. It’s just a matter of time.”

I ignore the flurry of activity as I walk through the halls. It takes a
lot, for a sitting Senator of the IPS to leave Ariede. There is nowhere in this
massive estate that I can go, to be alone. And I need that, want nothing more
than to be sequestered with my thoughts. -
Sadi!-
I send the shout out
and feel the flutter of psyches around me, retreating from my dominating
presence.

-What’s wrong?-
she
answers immediately.

-I’m going out. I’ll be back in an hour.-

There is a hesitation, then -
Take Tin.-

I spread my wings, snarling. -
Is that an order, lady?-

-No. But it’s not safe for you alone,-
she
answers.

-I’m only going to be an hour. Nothing will
happen in an hour.-
I pull off my vest,
-And he can’t follow me. I’m flying.-

She tries to respond, but I push up walls around my mind, and hurry to
the library. There is a balcony there and without pausing to think, I spread my
wings and throw myself into the warm breeze.

 It hurts at first. I haven’t flown in so long, my muscles burn as
they stretch and catch in the wind. And then the sun-drenched currents carry me
higher and my mind clears, emptying of everything but Chosi. I reach for her,
instinctively. And as I settle in my own mind, beyond the swirling psyches
around me, I feel her. A quiet, subdued presence so distant and weak that I
barely recognize it as my sister. I wonder what has happened to her wild
spirit. I wrap my own aura around hers as much as I can, bolstering her, and
she seems to brighten for a moment.

A personal hovercraft races past me, and I jerk free of my thoughts,
suddenly aware that I am close to the Capitol. Too close. I can see faces below
me, craning back to see me, feel the sharp spike of fear as they realize what
is flying above them, minds vanishing behind walls. I shiver and tuck my wings
close, twisting to turn back to the estate. The personal craft mimics my
movement, and a sharp spear of fear lodges in my belly. I wonder if it is one
of the many IPS members, or a slaver, or something else entirely. Anger washes
over the aura inside, and I flap my wings, picking up speed.

I am a creature of the air, born to the currents and slipstreams. Even a
shuttle as small as the one tailing me can’t match my agility. I dart toward
the surface, skimming the looking glass reflection of Capitol Lake. Then I
twist, disappearing into a stand of trees, weaving through the branches. It’s
probably Tinex, tailing me for my own protection. But I can’t shake the sense
that the pilot was too shielded, the blank mind somehow menacing. I’ve pulled
ahead of the shuttle a tiny bit and I race out of the trees, flying faster than
I can remember, a straight shot to the safety of Sadi. I can hear the craft
behind me, the drone of its engine, until the pilot gives up, turning aside and
vanishing into the traffic into the city. My relief is so acute I’m almost
dizzy.

-Sadi?-
I call, almost desperately, and she answers right
away, as if she has been waiting. -
I’m back.-

If she senses anything wrong she doesn’t address it, just says, -
I
packed for you. We leave in the morning.-
A slight hesitation. -
I’m in
the library. But I understand if you want to be alone.-

-I’ll be there shortly,-
I
answer and feel her surprise before I put up my mental walls and go to her.

Chapter
19

Chosi’le

I STEP OUT OF Prator’s office hoping this is the last I’ll see of it. I
tilt my head back, letting the heat of the sun wash over me. Catelyn stalks
past, not bothering to contain her fury. “For a girl as favored as you, you
sure are bitter,” I say and she jerks around.

“You are nothing!” she hisses. “You think you are special, because you
have the Ja’s favor? You mean
nothing
.”

I laugh, unamused. “Do you think so? Because I was sure that beating was
a sign of his long-lasting favor.”

I push past her and begin walking toward the dining hall and Jemes.

“They hate you,” Catelyn calls and against my will, I look back. “The
Eleyi? They hate you for your violence.”

I want to shrug off her words. Why does it hurt so much to hear her say
what I already know? I can’t let myself care what they think—not if I want to
live. I force myself to smile. “Here’s the thing, Catelyn. I don’t give a fuck
what they think. I’m willing to do what I have to do to survive. That’s what
matters, not the Eleyi way of life, and certainly not what fodder think.”

Her eyes are wide and her face is pale, but I can feel the edge of
triumph under her shock. I wonder how long it will be before all the Eleyi have
heard my words.

Jemes is waiting when I reach the dining hall, sitting at a tiny table
with two heavily laden plates and Kristoff.

I glance at him as I sit and pull the plate toward me. I’m not hungry,
but it doesn’t matter. “What is it?” I ask, picking at the food.

“How are the draken?” Kristoff asks, brimming with excitement and worry.

I hesitate. How much should I tell him? And if I tell him the draken
don’t trust me, will he tell the Ja to take them from me? I glance at Jemes,
but he’s watching his food, leaving this to me. I suppose that’s fair—he’s my
aide, not the other way around. “Brielle?” Kristoff prompts.

“It’s only been two weeks, Kristoff,” I say, exasperated. “Give me
time.”

He looks down, nervous. I swallow the bread and wait, dreading what he
will say.

“Ja Argot wants to exhibit his new spectacle at the Eclipse Games next
month.”

He looks up as I close my eyes, my mind working. The games will be the
first test for most of the new gladiators. It’s three weeks away. I can have
them ready—maybe. Jemes is cursing, quiet and steady, and it settles me. I open
my eyes, and give Kristoff a tight smile as I reach for the water. “Then I’d
better get busy.”

The night air is stifling and dark, but after long days and nights in
the tunnel and draken’s cave, the darkness is familiar. I move through it
easily, my wings tight to my back to avoid rousing the premthas. Vicious,
massive, they are feline at the core and can’t resist batting at something
floating in the air.

Most of the draken are sleeping when I arrive, as I expect. But not the
big black on his perch. He twists to look at me, and I nod respectfully. They
appreciate respect.

-Krato thinks he’ll have goat tomorrow,-
I
say as I settle on the floor. He shifts and I grin, letting my amusement filter
out to him. A soft snort, too quiet to wake the others. I lean back against the
stone and stare up at him. -
Would you like to hear more about Juhan?-

The draken considers me, and I stare back, trying not to miss my
brother. Or think about how ridiculous it is that the only time I
do
think about him is when I’m talking to the draken.

For some reason, they are fascinated by him. Or at least, they like
these stories best.

-He would like you,-
I
tell the black suddenly. It’s been almost two weeks of this, and he still has
yet to tell me a name, and I refuse to give him one. But I’m getting
desperate—if Prator or Ja find out how little progress I’ve had, the
consequences wouldn’t be good. -
E
ven you would find it hard to dislike him.
You would trust him by now, I think.-
Curiosity swells over me and I
glance at the draken. -
You have to ask. I won’t tell you.-

Amusement. And a bit of respect, enough that I hold my breath, waiting.
I need to show Ja and Prator progress. I can’t keep spending sleepless nights
trying to bond with a giant reptile who couldn’t care less.

-Why do you think we would trust him?-
The
voice rumbles like thunder, but is infinitely gentle, careful in my mind.

For a moment, I’m too surprised to respond and he shifts, his long neck
snaking away. -
Because he is Eleyi,-
I blurt out. -
To his core, my
brother is the embodiment of the Eleyi way. He has never fought; he doesn’t
even know
how
.-

A smile tugs on my lips.

The draken blinks his large, golden eyes at me. -
We are known for our
fighting,-
he points out and I tremble. I
finally
have him talking.

-But it isn’t your choice,-
I
counter. -
When free, draken are peaceful and only protective of their egg
clutch. Content to be left alone.-

He tilts his large head, studies me with one eye. -
That was true,
once. Before the jaktas and their whips and harnesses. I pity those who still
believe such peace is attainable.-

-The IPS is celebrating the Century of Peace,-
I
say.

The draken laughs, the sound shaking through the cave and my mind. -
They
celebrate peace on the backs of slaves. A peace bought with the blood of the
broken is hardly a peace worth celebrating.-

It’s true. The Centuriad is a tasteless joke. One I could ignore on
Eleyiar—but we ignore everything on Eleyiar.

-Why are you here?-
he
asks. Curiosity and something else—something hopeful—fills his aura.

I hesitate. The truth is a gamble, but to lie would defeat what little
trust I’ve built
. -We are both trying to survive the jakta. And I think we
stand a better chance of that together,-
I say, finally telling him the
truth I haven’t admitted to anyone.

-
You risk nothing. You are a beastboy; you don’t face the arena.-

I laugh. Stand and let my wings unfurl, the pale translucent white shimmering
in the firelight. The black goes still, watching. -
Ja Argot bought me to
train you, but I am bound for the arena. I’m strong enough to survive—for a
time. But eventually, the other glads will kill me, because speed and agility
will always be overmatched by strength.-
He stares for a long time, so long
I close my wings and slump. -
I can help you,-
I whisper, suddenly
exhausted. -
We can help each other.-

-What is your name?-
he
asks, and I flush. I have told him. Several times. -
Not the name you were
given,-
he adds. -
Your true name. What does Juhan call you?-

My mouth is dry. I feel exposed, which is strange. It is just a name,
after all.

But it’s not—it’s me. Who I
am
, everything the jakta is trying to
strip from me, everything I am fighting to protect and preserve.

The draken is waiting, watching me, and I have the sense he knows
exactly what he is asking for.

-Chosi’le et’ Chentq.-

I feel him quietly ruminate on the name, almost as if he is tasting it.
And then, -
I am Miwya.-
I stare at him, startled, and his golden eyes
gentle. -
Sleep, little Le. Tomorrow we prepare for spectacle.-

Jemes watches me as we gather the draken’s food the next morning.
Several large rocks have already been wrestled onto the hovercart, and now we
wait behind the hukron’s boys for the slaughtered goat. I’m impatient enough I
consider snatching a chicken live from its pen. But live meat would only
intrigue the draken, excite them when I need their calm.

I wonder if Miwya has told them we will train today.

Finally, the hukron beastboys move on with their disgusting pile of fish
and eel guts, and I step forward. Krato eyes me as he throws the goat
carcasses, still intact and bleeding, onto our cart.

“How do I bring the draken out?” I ask without greeting and his bushy
eyebrows—out of place on his bald head—rise. Jemes stiffens beside me.

“The devils know how to leave—be prepared to use the harness though. You
lose one of the Ja’s draken, he’ll skin you alive, no matter what your purchase
price.”

I smile, not doubting for a moment he’s telling the truth.

“There’s a practice field for the beasts, around the mountain. Take your
draken there. I’ll let the other boys know you’ll have use of it today,” Krato
says and pushes the other dead goats at me. Jemes loads them quickly and I
mumble my thanks and we turn away.

“They want to train?” Jemes asks, when we are alone.

 I shrug. “Most probably don’t even realize we will. Miwya wasn’t
very specific.”

Jemes comes to a standstill behind me, and his eyes are wide, a hint of
amusement filling his psyche. “He told you his name?”

I nod and Jemes laughs softly. I fan my wings, ignoring the nearby
premthas. Their Eleyi beastboy watches me with loathing and I blow a kiss.
Jemes touches my arm. “Don’t antagonize them.”

I look up at him guiltily. His narrow face is creased with worry. He has
enough to worry about without me adding to it.

The draken are awake and restless when we push the hovercart into their
cave. I inhale the scent that never gets old: smoke and spice and blood and the
wild incense that I cannot name, but that soothes me.

I throw the first goat into the middle of the cavern, and as it arches
into the air, Miwya releases a plume of fire, searing it before catching it
neatly in his massive jaws. The others hiss and grumble, but it lacks heat.

-They know we’re training,-
he
says, startling me, and I almost drop the goat I am wrestling with. His eyes
are amused. -
They are anxious to leave the cave, little Le.-

I grin, and toss the goat out as Jemes rolls a rock to the ground.
Opening my thoughts to all of them, I send, -
Then they should eat quickly.-

A rustle of scales and wings and laughter echo like thunder in my mind
before they settle to their meal. Jemes pushes out the last boulder, and it
rolls a few feet before the small grey snatches it close to her, her claws
leaving deep gouges in the stone. The sound of her teeth grinding on the rock
makes my skin crawl, but it keeps her claws sharp and digestion smooth.

“What are you going to have them do?” Jemes asks me.

I’ve been considering it. “When they fight in the arena, what are draken
pitted against?”

“A phalanx of glads,” he answers, and it makes me wince. Ten glads for a
draken is unfair, to both sides of the fight. “Sometimes, a pride of premthas
or a pair of hukron. Sometimes, each other.”

I turn to him, my eyes wide, sure he is wrong. “They fight each
other
?”
I demand and Jemes nods. Miwya is watching me, lazy after his two goats. I feel
sick as I watch the draken, the way they seem to care for the small grey, the
blue-black male nudging a choice piece of goat toward her. They are so twisted
around each other, that even without the illusion of smoke and shadow, I
struggle to define which is which.

They care for each other and the Ja pits them against each other in the
arena? Rage bubbles in me, and it disturbs them. The blue-black hisses. -
She
is too temperamental, Miwya.-

-Enough, Meinia,
-
Miwya rumbles, and he looks at me, wide golden eyes searching, as if trying to
determine something.

“I won’t fight them against each other,” I say fiercely, and Jemes
mutters a curse. The draken are still, quiet, and then the grey—the small
female—snakes her head out, appraising me with pale blue eyes. The others seem
to still, watching her
. -I am Natsu,-
she says at last. I feel a flash
of approval from Miwya, and then she bugles, shifting to stand. Her wings spread
and I feel the hot air in the cave stir, quivering as she pushes herself into
the air. The cave is too dark for me to see the top, but I watch her. All of us
watch her as she spirals higher, and catches her claws on the wall of rock.

-
It’s a tunnel, Chosi’le
,- she says. I watch as she snakes her
way into a tunnel that I cannot see.

The other draken are beginning to rouse themselves, and Miwya says
amusedly, -
Go, Le. We will join you—before you arrive, I would wager.-
 

The twin moons and sun beating down on me are less intrusive than the
cold gaze of Prator. I feel Jemes worry as he simulates another attack.

-The hukron hides are too thick to burn, but
they won’t handle the heat well because they are water creatures,-
I
coach Sora, the thin speckled grey. -
You can stun it with fire, and then pin
it.-