Chapter 30
Thirty
Kira
“Are you sure that thing knows where it’s going?” Roderick’s voice betrayed a little of his pain and exhaustion. “It feels like we’ve been going around in circles.”
“We’re almost there,” Kira promised.
“You said that before.”
“I really mean it this time.”
To be honest, she sounded a lot more confident than she actually was. Honeycombs were massive structures, built to confuse and disorient any would-be invaders.
It didn’t help that the scorpion hadn’t come equipped with a handy dandy map. All it could do was provide a general direction for Jin’s location, forcing them to backtrack every time they found their way blocked.
If Kira had been on her own, it wouldn’t have been an issue. The problem was Roderick. He was fading quickly. It wouldn’t be long before his body gave out entirely.
“You should leave me and go.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kira said harshly.
“No, listen—you still have Jin and the other children to worry about. They’re what matters. Right now, I’m just a hindrance.”
Kira tightened her grip on his arm when he would have pulled it off her shoulder. “I know you don’t know this, but Curs don’t leave people behind. Not unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
And only if the situation was dire. As in, world ending.
“We’re not there,” Kira snarled, already over this self-sacrificing bullshit. “I promise you that when we are, I’ll leave your ass to fend for itself.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely,” Kira swore. “Can we get going now? Your existential crisis is costing us time.”
Roderick’s nod showed reluctance, but at least he was no longer demanding she leave him behind.
“Sheesh, most people usually beg me not to abandon them,” Kira muttered, taking more of his weight than before.
“I’m a rare breed,” Roderick joked tiredly.
“You’re something alright.”
Oddly enough, he reminded her of a Cur. Something she’d never thought she’d say given their first impressions of each other. That desire to sacrifice oneself for the good of the mission; every one of her Curs had had it. Apparently, so did Roddie.
Kira tightened her grip around his waist, vowing she wouldn’t lose him as she had them. Not this time. Not ever again.
Half an hour later that sentiment was put to the test as Kira found their way obstructed by a a man and woman. Both dangerous. And the last people she would want to encounter while hampered by the inhibitor and dragging dead weight.
Roderick went very still against Kira, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper. “That’s them. They’re the ones who attacked me.”
The woman smiled. Her expression falling flat due to the lack of emotion on the rest of her face. “We were hoping the fall had killed you.”
“So sorry to disappoint,” Roderick snarked.
Kira was so proud. The old Roderick would have been much too rigid and proud to use sarcasm in a situation as dire as this. She must be rubbing off on him.
“What should we do?” the man beside the woman asked.
“There’s no avoiding the confrontation now that we’ve arrived at this juncture. Kill them. Both of them.”
“That’s cold, Cleo. What happened to not harming siblings?” Kira asked.
“It’s time to grow up, Kira. We were never siblings. Shared trauma is not a reason to bind us forever.”
Kira’s gaze shifted to the man. “And you, Mars? You’re in agreement?”
“It’s time for a new era. Ryan’s plans to rejoin Tuann society are short sighted and ridiculous. They will lead nowhere good.”
Until Mars mentioned it, Kira hadn’t realized that was what Ryan was working toward. But okay. She wasn’t going to argue with the crazy people if she could help it.
Edging back carefully, Kira’s gaze flicked around the chamber they were in, pausing briefly on the Tsavitee suspended in resin before moving on. “Are you planning to build this new era on the lives of innocent children?”
Mars shrugged as Cleo looked on with an unnatural detachment. “Sacrifices are sometimes required.”
“Sacrifices like the ones we once were?”
Kira didn’t know why their callousness surprised her. But it did. You’d think with their history they’d hesitate at the idea of consigning children to the fate they once suffered.
It appeared not.
“Better them than us,” Mars declared.
“See—I just can’t go along with that,” Kira said, shifting some of Roderick’s weight off her shoulder so he was standing under his own willpower. He went easily, helping her even as he kept his attention on Mars and Cleo.
“That’s why you’ll die here,” Cleo intoned.
“Someone is going to die, but it’s not going to be me.” Kira slid her hand down Roderick’s waist, hoping he kept his en-blade where the other oshota she knew kept theirs. And that he’d be willing to let her use it.
A second later, she rejoiced internally as her fingers encountered the faint indentation that marked the en-blade’s location.
“This isn’t the camps, Kira. We’ve changed.” Cleo’s gaze flicked to Mars. “She’s bluffing. Our spies have already confirmed she’s wearing the inhibitor. She’s vulnerable.”
“You go ahead,” Mars instructed. “I’ll take care of things here and catch up.”
For the first time, Kira thought she saw a flicker of something in Cleo’s vacant expression. It was hard to say what it was. Nothing that was easy to define, that was for sure.
“Make sure she’s dead this time.” Cleo turned back the way she’d come. “We don’t want her rising from the ashes again.”
Mars inclined his head. “I won’t let anything spoil our agenda.”
Kira dragged Roderick backwards, edging toward the opening behind them as Cleo walked away.
“You know that promise you made earlier?” Roderick ground out, pressing one hand against his wound.
“Which one?” Kira asked, only half paying attention. The rest of her was trying to remember every detail she could about Mars.
There wasn’t much to go on.
He’d been rather average back then. Strong. But not as strong as Pallas or Alexander. Fast. But not as fast as Ryan or Enoch.
Or her, for that matter.
She also didn’t remember what special little traits the masters had given him.
“The one where you abandon me if necessary.”
“Ah, that promise.”
“Have we reached that point yet?” Roderick asked.
Kira lightly tapped her fingers against the depression in his synth armor. “I’ll let you know in a moment.”
His laugh sounded rusty. “Fair enough.”
Kira focused on Mars. “You don’t have to do this, Mars. Walk away and I won’t pursue you.”
He regarded them for a moment before prowling toward them. “You must know that’s not possible. I’ve come too far to turn back now.”
“I suppose so,” Kira agreed.
She could have forgiven the personal betrayal. Cleo was right in that a crappy childhood wasn’t enough to force a relationship if both parties weren’t amenable. But trafficking kids? Doing to them what was done to the forty-three?
There was no forgiveness for that.
They’d signed their death warrant.
Now. Or later.
By her hand or Jin’s.
There was nowhere they could run. Nowhere they could hide. Kira would find them and make them pay.
“This is the end, Kira.”
“Yes,” Kira murmured.
For him. That is.
A crescent mark glowed on Mars’s forehead as his eyes turned white. Color leached from his skin. The tips of his hair grew whiter and whiter under it was almost glowing. He opened his mouth to show energy coalescing in a sphere at its center.
Kira suddenly had an idea of what Mars had gotten from their former masters.
The hilt of an en-blade fell into the palm of the hand wrapped around Roderick’s side as the depression in his suit vanished. Kira dumped Roderick to the ground, whipping his blade up in front of her face to meet the lance of pure power that split the air.
It was followed by two bone-white daggers.
She managed to dodge the first but the second lodged itself in her shoulder.
“Careful, he can spit weapons too,” Roderick called.
Kira grimaced, reaching up to yank the dagger out of her shoulder. “That would have been nice to know sooner.”
“You two seemed familiar. I thought you knew.”
She had. She’d just forgotten.
Kira examined the dagger briefly. It looked like it was made out of bone. The bright red of her blood standing out in stark contrast against the white.
Losing interest, Kira let the dagger clatter to the floor as she eyed Mars. “You’ve picked up a few tricks since we last did this dance.”
Compressed ki and the ability to manufacture weapons out of his own bones.
Nice.
It had to hurt. Though you wouldn’t be able to tell from his expression.
Mars allowed himself the smallest of smiles. “And you are not as helpless without your ki as they were expecting.”
“Who is they?” Kira asked.
The forty-three? The Tsavitee? Someone else?
Light enveloped Mars. “You won’t get that answer from me.”
Kira squinted, nearly blinded by the light’s searing intensity.
Roderick’s shouted warning was appreciated but unneeded. Kira felt the shift in the air. Instinct and training kicked in. She shifted ever so slightly to her left, lunging forward at the same time. Just enough for the blade intended for her heart to blaze a path over her bicep.
She slashed outward with her en-blade, feeling a moment of fierce satisfaction as its tip bit into something substantial.
Mars’s glow dampened, giving her, her first look at his expression. Resignation. Pain. And maybe a little bit of disappointment as he glanced downward at the flood of blood coming from his abdomen.
The blade had nearly cut him in half, slicing through several vital organs and letting his guts slip out.
Unless he got care right now, the wound was a mortal one.
Mars’s legs collapsed.
Kira caught him and lowered him gently to the ground. “You should have walked away, brother.”
He would have lived a little longer.
Mars’s laugh was tired. “I couldn’t do that.”
“No, I guess you couldn’t.”
The forty-three were stubborn like that.
“Why did you do this?” Kira asked with a touch of heartbreak in her voice.