16
Haiven stuffed the last of the cloth onto the shelf and sighed. She looked around at the room, and it looked so different without all the embroidering supplies in piles everywhere. The rows of shelves carved into the stone walls were bursting at the seams now, but at least the rest of the room was clean. In fact, it looked a little bare. The girl shook off the strange feeling, assuring herself that it was better to have it all packed away. That way, Tobias's triplets would stop getting into it all.
"Wow, it looks great in here," Blist said as she came in. Haiven turned to see her sister studying the area. The no-nonsense head of the Dragon-Guard met her eye and nodded once. "Makes sense that you'd put it all away. I don't see you sewing much anymore these days."
Haiven shrugged, moving forward to help her sister carry in the various vegetables she had brought in. Blist was rarely home these days, always out with the guard. Haiven made a few gestures to represent swords and spears, and Blist shrugged as she translated the question.
"Dragon-Guard has been fine. Jaiym and Jasper are a great addition—they can sense things far sooner than the rest of us can. The border of the village continues to be safe. No sign of the slave traders."
Haiven frowned, and Blist noticed the change in expression.
"Don't worry, Have. I guess a few traders targeted Hershel a few weeks back, and that's why he's been bringing guards with him when he comes to train the powered kids. It's them they're after, according to Iona. Not that they'd ever dare attack us here in the hidden village—not with Iona and my Dragon Guard protecting the people here."
Haiven nodded slowly, carrying the vegetables into the kitchen to start peeling and chopping them. Blist followed her in.
"Things going well here? You look a little better than you have been. I was getting worried you were getting sick, with all the time you spent in bed a month or two back."
Haiven's expression darkened, and she made no move to answer as she continued to aggressively peel the tubers.
"I'm glad you put your sewing stuff away," Blist mused again as she filled a pot with water and began chopping herbs to stick in it. "You were doing so much sewing back when the Prince was coming, and you were always leaving. But with him finally out of your life, you can focus on finding your purpose here in the village, rather than out there in the world, where I can't protect you." Blist tore the husks off of some vegetables. "No more visits to the East to sell your stuff with the Prince gone. Aren't you relieved you don't have to make that trip with him anymore?"
The knife slipped, and Haiven scowled as it sliced a shallow cut in her thumb. Blist looked over as Haiven set down the knife and tuber, and Blist paled. "What happened? Did you hurt yourself?"
Haiven waved off her sister's concern, moving to get the gauze from the other room. Blist frowned, but she didn't follow her, seeming to actually trust her to take care of her cut herself. Haiven knew her sister was trying to be less overprotective, but it was still hard to convince Blist that she didn't have to worry about her so much.
As Haiven pulled the gauze out of the shelf, a pile of shining material fell to the ground. Haiven sighed, but she didn't move to fix it, not wanting to marr the cloth with the blood on her thumb. She couldn't help but study the colorful material as she wrapped the cut. Some of the cloth in her stores had been made here in the Order of Echo and Antirock, but there was also silken or lacey stuff that she had purchased in the East. Though Blist seemed to be under the impression that Haiven didn't miss the trips to that area of the realm, the truth was that Haiven did miss it. Wandering the markets and finding materials she had never seen before, getting excited by the things other people had made. It was inspiring to get out of the bubble of the Hidden Village, but she hadn't ever dared do it without Theo there by her side.
Haiven tied the gauze bandage and used her teeth to cut the excess off. There was no point in sewing just to keep the finished products here, but there was no way she could ever return to the Eastern Markets now.
Or was there? Her thoughts whispered to her, and she frowned as she looked back at the cloth. She hadn't sewn anything since Theodynn had left her home for the last time all those months ago, but if she missed it, then why should she stop?
"Did you get the bleeding to stop?" Blist asked as she came out of the kitchen. She caught sight of the pile of cloth and tutted as she came over to clean it up. "What are you going to do with all of this stuff?" she mused as she stuffed it back onto the shelf. "Throw it out?"
Sell it, Haiven thought, but she didn't tell Blist about the rebellious plans that were forming in her mind.
The room reminded Julien of the lecture halls at Ninjago City University, with the seats going all the way around in a circle and descending down to the center stage at the middle of the room. The table was set up, along with various proto-type-looking devices, but the speaker had yet to come in. Julien sat in the cushioned seat, flicking through his phone for the agenda for the rest of the day. Agatha didn't want to drive home in the dark in case her roaster broke down again, so she scheduled them to leave only an hour or two after the seminar finished.
"Oh, zis is so exciting," Agatha murmured next to him. Julien glanced over to smile as he saw her bouncing slightly. He knew her to be a scientist of precision and professionalism, but at times like these, she reminded him of a child in a candy store. He reached out to take her hand.
"Relax—you have been to technology seminars before," he pointed out. Agatha glanced over and grinned.
"Yes...but zis is von that Doctor Zerek himself is interested in. Zat means ve could be one of ze first groups to hear about somezing zat could change ze whole future of technology!"
"If you say so," Julien said with a smile.
"You're excited too," she accused with a wink. "Don't zink I can't tell."
"I am excited that you are excited."
"Sure," she teased, squeezing his hand. Julien squeezed it back, turning his attention back to the center of the floor, but his smile vanished as he caught sight of who had taken the stage. All at once, the young man's blood ran cold, his mind blaring in warning and demanding that he escape out the nearest exit.
The murmuring around the room was fading now as everyone else noticed that the key-note speaker had arrived, and the titanium man waved a hand in greeting. "Thank you for coming today," he offered in the kind way he had. "I am excited to demonstrate the findings of the project that was created through the collaboration between the NRF and several independent researchers, myself included. My name is Zane, and I will be the presenter for today's seminar."
Julien's throat closed off, his heart beating frantically. However, everyone had taken their seats, and the lights were starting to dim. He had missed his window—if he stood up now, his father would see him, and dim lights or not, there was no way to hope that the nindroid wouldn't notice him.
"Vat is zis?" Agatha breathed. "Ze presenter is an android? Perhaps ze true creator of the tech sent his robot to give ze lecture?"
"The robot is the creator of the tech," the woman seated next to Agatha corrected with a hiss, shooting daggers at the blonde. "He's an independent scientist and the master of ice. Do you live under a rock?"
"I am from Metallonia," Agatha stammered, and she turned to her boyfriend. "Do you know who zis is?"
Julien couldn't answer, as his mind was too busy running escape calculations. How did he not know that his father was on this project? Then again, he had hardly spoken to his parents after moving to Metallonia, especially after he started dating Agatha. How had everything gone so wrong so fast?
"J.C.?" Agatha hissed again, but Zane was talking down below.
"The Ninjago Robotics Foundation approached me with specific questions about my programming, and specifically how it pertained to my elemental power. As many of you know, I am a Nindroid—" Zane paused, his exterior flickering between his true titanium form and one that mirrored the look of a natural Ninjagoan citizen, before finally settling on a white gi with silver accents. "As well as the Master of Ice." He lifted one hand to demonstrate, and there were gasps of amazement from the people in the room as frozen particles appeared and formed a snowball in his outstretched palm. Agatha was gaping, and Julien sank further down into his chair as the ice in his father's hand vanished. "Due to this, I have been approached by many robotic and tech companies who wish to crack my code, so to speak. Unsurprisingly, I am not too keen on letting someone take me apart." The room chuckled at the joke as Zane smiled. "But the NRF was more interested in whether their current tech could be joined with neurological transmission, and they asked me to head the project because they felt I would know more about this subject than anyone, as my elemental power is fused to the tech that creates my make-up. The result of the NRF's proposed project is what I will be sharing with you today. While it was not completely successful, the results..."
Julien buried his face in his hands as his father continued talking. The only way he could possibly make it out of this unscathed was if he waited for the end of the seminar and he and Agatha slipped out with the crowd. As long as he didn't draw attention to himself—
"Sir! I have a question!" Agatha's voice rang out across the space as she stood from her chair, shooting a hand in the air. Julien blanched as he looked up at his girlfriend, but Agatha wasn't even looking at him as she stared at Zane with a frown. "Agatha Axel, from ze Metal Inquisition and Robotics Institution, Metallonia."
"Hello," Zane offered. "I will have more time to take questions at the end—"
"Is it true zat you are an actual scientist? Who created you? Iz zere ozer technology like you, and do you consider yourself an A.I? If so, what specific qualities and evidences do you found zat statement on?"
"Well—"
"Do you have interior refrigeration zat created ze ice, or do you implement chemical reactions using a catalyst such as liquid nitrogen? Vie vas an ice-creation mechanism included in your makeup in ze first place?"
"I am afraid—" Zane started, but then his blue eyes flicked over to the form next to Agatha, who was busy trying to make himself as small as possible. Julien had known such an effort would be futile, of course—Zane was a Nindroid, after all. However, the young man's heart still sank as he watched the Nindroid's expression light up. "Julien? Is that you?"
Julien Cyrus froze, and he could feel everyone turning to look at him, his girlfriend included. He could feel her confusion, and he tried to think of what to say. His father spoke again before he could say anything, however.
"Sorry for the interruption," Zane offered to the rest of the crowd as he fixed Julien with a smile. "But I did not know my son would be attending my seminar today."
Had the room actually dropped in temperature, or did it just feel like it? A hundred pairs of eyes stared at him, but Julien could feel Agatha's staring the hardest of all. The young scientist finally swallowed, knowing the gambit was up. Julien stood, meeting his father's glowing gaze.
"Hello, father," he offered at last.
Julien generally wasn't uncomfortable in silence. Growing up, he and his parents would often spend long periods of time lost in their own thoughts or wrapped up in their own projects. It wasn't that they never spoke to each other, but they were never a family that felt the need to fill the silence. However, sitting next to Agatha on the drive out of Ninjago, Julien Cyrus was feeling rather stifled.
Not sure how to approach any kind of conversation, he turned his attention to the blurred landscapes outside. Though train was the fastest way to get from Ninjago to Metallonia and back, Agatha told him she preferred driving to any other method of travel. As Julien watched hills covered in rice paddies rush by, his mind replayed the last few hours in his mind. Agatha had been so quiet during the entire seminar, and even at the end, when Julien had taken her up front to actually formally meet his father, she had hardly said anything. Zane had even offered to answer some of the questions that she had asked at the start, but she had merely said that she would ask Julien about them later before apologizing and explaining that they had to get back to Metallonia. All in all, the meeting of his father and girlfriend had been cool, cordial, and professional. Somehow, that outcome felt worse than everything actually blowing up in Julien's face.
He was beginning to wonder if he and Agatha would ever speak again when the Metallonian spoke up. "Do you not trust me?"
Julien looked over. "I trust you," he assured carefully, and Agatha's expression darkened as she stared out the windshield.
"But you didn't tell me about your parents."
"It is...complicated."
"You had to have known how amazing I vould vind zis!" she accused. "A human child, raised from infancy by androids? Ze sheer amount of programming zat vould have to exist for a technological creation to be equipped to handle ze vacillating struggles of parenthood..."
"They're more than just programs, Agatha," Julien cut in softly.
Agatha blinked, her own voice becoming soft. "I can see vie you are so insistent about ze existence of artificial intelligence—you were raised by artificial intelligence. Vie keep it a secret from me? Vie did you lie to me?"
"I...I do not know," Julien confessed, looking down at his hands. "I do not know why I lied to you, and kept my parents a secret...why I would not let you meet them." He swallowed, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve. "I suppose at first it was just refreshing, not to be 'the boy who was raised by robots.' I moved to Metallonia, and suddenly I was 'Julien, the intern from Ninjago.' I didn't realize that your country would be so cut off from most of the happenings of my past, and my family's past, and I guess it was nice just to be a normal, albeit genius, engineering student."
Agatha processed that. "So, you're ashamed of your robotic parentage?"
"No!" Julien winced, feeling conflicted. "I am not ashamed...I care deeply about my parents. It never mattered to me that they were androids—I saw them as people. They are people."
"If you veren't ashamed, zen vie didn't you tell me? You know how invested I am in Robotics! I could have spent zis trip talking vith real A.I's. I could have learned so much zat I could have applied to my own investigation and research at MIRI. Instead, ve vent to a single seminar, and now ve have to return home."
"I know how passionate you are about robotics," Julien agreed, still not meeting her eye. "That is why I didn't tell you."
"Vat do you mean?"
"I mean that there are some things you cannot learn about just by pulling it apart."
Agatha flushed, her voice rising. "Is zat vat you zot I vould do to your parents? Pull zem apart? You zink I'm some scientist who assumes I can only understand by destroying somezing?"
"I just wanted you to see my parents as people, not projects that some scientist did a good job on. They may be androids, but they have the same emotions and passions as anybody else." Julien sighed. "I was afraid you would never see that part of them, since you do not even believe in artificial intelligence. To you, they would just be a metal husk full of well-written code, but to me—"
"Maybe zat would have been my first impression, but it's unfair to zink zat I could not change such an impression," Agatha snapped. "Ze core of science is experience in new ideas. Debunking previous zeories, fine-tuning outdated conceptions...seeing ze world through somevon elses eyes. Maybe I don't really believe zat Artificial Intelligence can exist to the extent zat you are describing, but it's because I've never met an A.I in person who could ever prove me wrong. Zere vas never evidence, ozer zan records of nindroid vigilantes...but such stories hardly seemed reasonable. How am I to change my convictions when I have no evidence—no research or data on which to base the change? How vas I to know two androids capable of raising a child existed, ven no such news had ever been taught to me in Metallonia?"
"My parents kept themselves private on purpose," Julien tried. "They have been pulled apart and destroyed and mishandled—"
"Zere is no excuse for me not knowing about zem," Agatha cut in coldly. "Not ven I am dating ze very boy zey apparently raised. Ze only vay I could have known about zem vas if you told me, and you didn't. You lied and you kept me from ze truth, so you cannot fault me for having limited views ven you kept secret the very evidence zat could have expanded my thinking."
"Agatha..."
"Ze core of ze matter is zat you lied to me. You didn't trust me vith the truth, and now I have to sit here and question everything." She turned to glower out the window. "In both science and relationships, nozing is gained in falsehoods."
The stifling silence fell again, and Julien chewed his lip before reaching out to touch Agatha's hand. She glanced back at him coldly, and he sighed. "I was scared," he admitted at last, pushing his blonde hair from his eyes.
"Of vat?"
"The older I get, the more it feels like there are two different sides of me," he said, trying to explain. "I care about both sides, but I struggle knowing how to join them. It feels like the project my father has been working on—combining carbon-based neuro-processing with mechanical tech. Two things that have their benefits and their purposes...but they are hard to blend together. I was scared of what would happen if I tried."
Agatha turned to study his face, and her angry expression softened somewhat. "I suppose I can see vie it vould be hard," she said. "But you still lied."
"I know. I should not have lied to you, or my parents. I am sorry."
The Metallonian finally relaxed. "I hope you know you can trust me, J.C. I vas not lying ven I said I vanted to get to know ze real you—past included. You have much explaining to do."
"You can ask me anything," he offered. "It will be a long drive back to Metallonia."
Agatha finally relaxed. "Vell, if I'm being honest, I still do not understand how ze Android—er, your father—created zat ice seemingly out of air. Is ice-making part of his programing?"
Julien chuckled, relieved that the stifling silence seemed to have passed at last. "That is a long story," he offered, and his girlfriend smiled.
17
Theo tread as silently as possible, though he doubted there would be anyone in these caverns. From what he had found so far, traders rarely used the same hideouts once said hideouts had been discovered. A voice in his head warned that was the very reason that this plan was foolish—he wasn't going to find anything else here, not after he, Tolan, and the southern convoy of Central Fortress Guards had looked it over. However, considering that takedown had been the last real leap forward in his fight against the traders, Theo hoped he would find some kind of clue that would help him make up ground.
He led Dragon further into the caves, not wanting to leave the hoofer out in the open, where sniffers could find him. Theo hoped the caverns didn't have any of the toothy beasts hiding out. With any luck, the smell of people was still strong enough to keep the varghalls at bay.
"Do you see anything?" Theo murmured to his hoofer, and Dragon shook his mane as if in answer. Theo smiled a little, strengthening the aura field around one hand as they moved further into the tunnels. "See that boulder up there? A trader was hiding behind it and nearly got Tolan. I saved his life, though he'd never admit it." Theo's smile faded. "He'll be furious if he finds out I came back here alone in the dead of night, but what am I supposed to do? He watches me like a hawk all day—barely gives me enough privacy to use the washroom. The only time I can do this sort of thing is in the middle of the night, when everyone assumes I'm asleep. Let's just hope I can keep myself awake enough tomorrow that no one gets suspicious of our midnight escapades."
Dragon nibbled his shoulder, and Theo realized that the boulder was blocking enough of the path that Dragon wasn't going to be able to continue on with him. The Heir felt conflicted. He knew Dragon wouldn't run off, but if there were sniffers in these tunnels, the hoofer would need Theo's protection.
The Oni Heir fixed the boulder with a look of determination. "Maybe I can move it," he murmured, dropping Dragon's reins as he came over to look at it closer. A well-placed aura blast could break the boulder down, but it would also send out a lot of noise. Theo wasn't keen on anyone discovering him snooping around here, so he braced himself up against the rock and closed his eyes. For a few moments, nothing happened as he strained against it, and he swore it sounded like Dragon was laughing at him. He pushed harder against the stubborn stone, and it finally gave way. Theo's eyes opened as he managed to turn the irksome rock enough that Dragon would be able to fit through.
"There we go," he murmured, wiping the sweat off the back of his neck. "That should—"
He trailed off as the light from his aura caught something glinting in the darkness. Theo knelt with a frown, realizing that by moving the boulder, he had uncovered a shallow area that was carved out of the cave wall. "What's this? A secret hiding place?" he murmured as he crouched down to look into it. The purple light illuminated a few lengths of chain, and Theo frowned. He and Tolan had found chains the first time they had come through—the slave traders had left them in the open. Why take the time to hide these ones? Theo reached out to grab one, but the second his hand closed around it, the tunnel around him was thrown into blackness.
Dragon stamped his hooves nervously, and Theo's heart pounded as he whirled around, trying to figure out what was happening. He realized the aura around his hands had gone out, but try as he might, they wouldn't relight. "What?" he murmured. He was still holding the slippery chain in one of his hands, though he couldn't see it in the inky darkness. A theory pricked at his mind, and his stomach twisted.
That doesn't make sense, he thought as he dropped the chain to the ground and tried once again to relight his hands.
Dragon whinnied in fear as the cave lit up with the bright aura, and he swallowed as he looked back down at the chain lying on the ground. The metal was black, but as the Heir crouched down for a closer look, he noticed the tiny glints of what looked like tarnished gold.
"It can't be," he murmured, but as he reached out to touch the metal, the aura winked out once more. He realized that he could also feel something inside, something between an emptiness and a numbness.
A million questions raced through Theodynn's mind as he pulled his hand back and looked back at the hole in the wall. There were only two chains inside, but they were unmistakably made of vengestone. The Heir reached out to claim them, trying to ignore the numbness as he stuffed the evidence into Dragon's saddlebag. He spent the rest of the night looking for any other secret chambers, but he didn't manage to find anything else.
It doesn't matter, he thought as he finally pulled Dragon back out of the cave a few hours later. The traders had vengestone...which means things are even more complicated than I thought. He boarded his hoofer with shaking hands, giving Dragon a kick to get him running. His mind whirled with the discovery he had made, but none of it would matter if he got back to the fortress after sunrise. As much as he wanted to tell someone about what he had found, the whispering voice in his mind warned that anything shared could be taken away. Better to get back and act like he had never left at all, and research this new evidence himself. He hunkered down on Dragon as the hoofer bolted across the sandy landscape. He wasn't going to let anyone cut him off from making a real difference.
It wasn't her fault. Any normal beast would have reared at the sight of the weapon flashing through the night, even if the shuriken didn't bury itself in the hoofer's thigh like it was supposed to. Instead of rearing as the blade whipped in front of it, the stupid animal came to a standstill, crying out in fear while its owner looked around in shock. Rook rolled her eyes as she pulled a few more shuriken off her person, keeping to the shadows of the rock formation as she took aim.
The blades should have killed him—she threw them expertly, ready for the figure to crumple from his mount onto the sand below. A blast of violet took Rook aback, and she cursed softly as she realized her attack had been thrown off target. The light from the prince's aura illuminated his expression, and Rook realized with a jolt that he was looking right at her. She huffed, irritated that he had managed to pinpoint where the attack had come from. Rook waited for the prince to make his escape, cursing her luck. It would be difficult to reach him, considering that he had a hoofer, but—
"Who's there?" the Heir demanded, and Rook watched in shock as he dismounted and pulled a sword from its sheath. "I'm warning you..."
Not hasty retreat? Perhaps he was as stupid as she had been told. Rook's smirk returned as she pulled her last few shurikens out. The blades glinted with moonlight as she sent them flying, and then she was flying along with them. The prince dodged one and blocked the other, and then Rook had reached him. She lashed out, aiming for his side with a black blade that blended with the darkness surrounding them.
The clang of metal rang out into the night, causing the nearby hoofer to paw the earth skittishly. Rook's smirk vanished as he realized the prince had blocked her attack with his sword. His eyes were hard in the moonlight, and Rook forced herself to get over the shock as she darted away just to lurch toward him again. Her attacks with her long knife were quick, but the Heir was surprisingly agile. He blocked each of her attempts to slit his throat, and Rook panted as she flipped backward to realign her aim.
"Who are you?" the Heir demanded again, and his tone surprised her as well. He sounded more irritated than afraid...as if she were only one of many inconveniences he had faced that day.
"Your match," she replied, lunging out again. "Though I must say, I didn't expect you to last this long. Your reputation doesn't quite do you justice, handsome."
He scowled, and their fight became more heated as he began coming on the offensive. Rook blocked each of his attacks, though she was cursing her shorter blade. She hadn't come equipped for draw out hand-to-hand combat. Her irritation grew the longer they slashed and dodged. This was supposed to be an easy kill—there wasn't even supposed to be a fight.
"Ottan sent you, didn't he?" The question caught Rook off guard. Did the Heir assume that the very leaders of the realm would send assassins after him?
Not so trusting after all, eh, Princey? Rook darted forward, managing to clip his clothing with an attack before he kicked her back. Rook stumbled, but she managed to parry a slash. "I think you should be more concerned with the conclusion of this fight," she taunted. Her knife drew close to his skin once again, but his sword came crashing in to ruin the deadly blow. Rook's hair whipped through the darkness as she darted around him, desperate for an opening. "I've waited days for you to leave your precious stronghold and strike out on your own, and I'm not about to leave empty-handed."
"You've wasted your time," the Heir replied coldly, blocking blow after blow. "I already told Ottan, I'm not interested in any more set-up attempts."
Rook's expression clouded in confusion, but she didn't have long to ponder. Before she knew it, the Heir had managed to get behind her. She whirled to block his attack, her heart starting to race. Keep it together, Rook. You've been training for this moment for years...
"You're not getting off that easily," she huffed as she threw herself at him. The Heir's brow furrowed as he blocked hit after hit, but he was losing ground. Rook's sneer twisted into a grin as she forced him backward. It wouldn't be long now—all she had to do is get one good hit, and then she could use his own hoofer to drag him off to some sniffer hole or another. Then she could finally...
Rook's eyes widened as her knife sliced through empty air. She had gotten used to the Prince's resistance, so when her blade didn't meet with anything, her balance was thrown off. The blast came out of nowhere, and Rook gasped as she hit the ground. She growled as she rolled back up onto her feet in one swift motion, darting back to where the Prince's hands were swirling with power. Drawing another dagger from her waist, Rook threw herself back into the fray. She whirled around him again and again, trying to find an opening. Considering that she had been trained in how to strike from the shadows, the blazing light engulfing his hands and sword made it difficult for her to use her usual tricks. Frustration built as her deadly attacks were met with constant rebuttal. Failure isn't an option, she reminded himself.
"Just give it up," the Heir hissed as he blocked her attacks. "I don't have time for this."
"Somewhere to be?" she panted. "After I came all this way..."
"Next time, I hope you won't waste both of our time."
Rook sneered. "There won't be a next time." She threw the smaller dagger, and then went for the kill with the longer knife. She heard the prince grunt, and Rook grinned in victory before her vision went violet.
There was ringing in her ears, and she realized that she was on the ground. She tried to sit up, but then she felt the cold tip of a blade at her throat. As her vision cleared, she realized the Oni Heir was staring down at her with blazing purple eyes. Despite her efforts to keep a cool head, fear seized her limbs as she realized she was moments from death.
The Heir's expression didn't change as he finally spoke. "If you couldn't tell, I'm not interested," he said coolly. Rook furrowed her brow, swallowing against the sword at her throat.
"Interested?"
"Tell Ottan to stop—next time he sends a girl to fight me for a proposal, I swear—"
"What do you think this is?" Rook demanded, baffled. The purple light in the Heir's strange eyes faded, though his expression was still grim.
"Either some kind of mating hunt or Ottan's sick idea of a joke," the Heir mused. "No matter what this is, I'm done with Ottan and his schemes. Tell him if it happens again, I'll sic Tolan on both him and whichever power-hungry woman he's gotten to agree to his stupid plans." The blade pressed harder against her throat. "I suggest you make sure he gets the message."
Rook stared at him as he finally pulled back his blade from her throat. She prepared to lunge as soon as he stood down, but then she realized that she didn't have a weapon. The assassin froze, looking around for her fallen blades. Stupid black knife she cursed internally. How am I supposed to find it in the dark?
She finally caught sight of the reflectionless dagger a few yards away, but by the time she had reached it, the Heir was gone. The assassin watched the hoofer rocket away, leaving a trail of dust to mock her as her target grew further from her reach. "Quazier isn't going to like this," she muttered as her grip tightened on the knife in her hand.
Amber plugged her phone into the practice room's sound system, flicking through the various Cray-Z albums that Dani had forced her to download until she found the Tango number she and M had chosen.
"Hey, Oni-girl. You ready for this?"
"More than you," she pointed out without looking up. "You're late."
"I had to pick these up."
Amber turned with a frown, and she was surprised to see the outfits that her partner was holding aloft. She left her phone behind as she came over to study the tango costumes. "Professor Snyder bought new costumes?"
M. snorted. "That tightwad hasn't bought new costumes in half a decade. I got these online."
"You bought these? Why? We agreed we were just going to borrow some costumes."
"Because we deserve to look nice," M. offered with a shrug, smoothing the brilliant orange skirt on one of the costumes. "This color matches your eyes perfectly—we'll look amazing."
"But when would we ever wear these again?"
"You're overthinking it, Oni-girl," M said, tossing her the tango dress. "Go try it on."
Amber studied the material. It was well made, and she didn't doubt it was expensive. Her stomach twisted and she carried the costume over to set it on one side of the practice room. "We only have this room for an hour, and you're already late," she pointed out. "We can figure out costumes later—we need to practice."
"You're not going to try it on?"
"Focus, M," Amber snapped, marching back over. "Your voleo is still choppy."
"It's not choppy—we're fine, Amber," he scoffed, though he moved to take his own costume over to the edge of the practice room. "You've got to try it on at some point, though. I need to know that I got the right size."
"Let's just get practicing already," Amber said, moving to turn on the music on her phone. Her old shoes clacked across the floor as she headed back to the sound system.
"Why are you wearing those?"
Amber turned to see M. staring at her old shoes, and Amber glanced down. "Because these are my shoes."
"But you have better ones now," M. pointed out.
"I don't need to practice in new shoes," she huffed.
"You've got to wear them in before the performance, otherwise..."
"We don't have time for this!" Amber snapped, pushing play on her phone before M. could say anything else. She could feel a flash of irritation from him, but then it was gone, hiding behind the emotional masking he had been doing lately. The Oni huffed, finding her mark and waiting for her cue from the music. M was studying her with a hard expression, and Amber missed her cue because she was busy wondering how angry he was about the shoes.
Amber marched back over to the music, her face flaming as she started it over and mentally scolded herself. It was just a dance practice—she and M had done dozens of these over the years...possibly hundreds. Why did this one feel so tense?
The Oni started on her cue, forcing her thoughts to take a back seat as the dance began. Even the tense feeling in the room started to fade as she and M. went over the routine that they had worked on for the last month or two. She glanced at M as they danced, but instead of the normally stoic expression that Tango required, she found him smirking at her. She blinked, nearly missing a beat. The Oni looked away as she recovered, trying to prepare herself for the tricky cadena coming up. They managed to get through the steps, but she could feel M staring at her. What's he doing? He's not supposed to be looking at me...
She tried to ignore him as the music began to crescendo, focusing on keeping her movements crisp and her turns smooth. The music hit a trill, but Amber was thrown off when M pulled her close in an unchoreographed move. Amber's head snapped back so she could meet his eye, and his smirk grew. Suddenly, their carefully planned routine fell to pieces as the nineteen-year-old led his Oni partner through untraditional steps.
"What are you doing?" Amber demanded as M. pulled away just to pull her close from behind,
"I was thinking we could spice up the routine a little," he murmured before spinning her.
"This isn't tango..."
"You can't be mad at me for improvising," he countered as he continued to pull her through unconventional choreography. "You're the queen of making things up on the spot. Besides, this is tango...it's just a little more Argentine."
Amber flushed as she felt his hand trail down her back, and she shoved him away at last. M. stumbled, and the Oni's eyes flashed as she glowered at him. "What the heck is going on with you?" she demanded. "We perform in two weeks!"
"Traditional Tango is dull—just eight basic steps," he said, sliding his hands in his pockets as he fixed her with a smug look. "Argentine is more fun to watch—it'll make for a better performance."
"I dance ballroom, M," Amber reminded as her heart pounded. "I don't even know how to dance Argentine tango."
"Well, we've got the practice room to ourselves. Now seems like a great time to learn." He reached out for her again, but Amber took a step back as her expression hardened.
"We can't change our entire routine this close to the performance."
"It's not a competition—there are no judges. No one will know that we even changed it!"
"It would be sloppy! There's no way we could pull it off in two weeks."
"What happened to the Amber who would mix up the whole routine the day before a performance?"
"I'd only mix things up by tweaking a step or two...not changing the entire style of dance!" Amber snapped. "What happened to the M. who didn't act so weird all the time?"
"I'm not acting weird—"
"Something has been off about you all week!" she challenged. M. raised an eyebrow, fixing her with a look that she knew was meant to make her feel foolish for being angry. His emotions were still frustratingly shrouded, and the Oni huffed as she turned to leave. "Let me know when you're ready to practice our actual routine."
"Hey, Oni-girl...don't be like that," M. said, grabbing her hand to keep her from leaving. "Fine, we can practice our old routine...just don't blame me if people fall asleep watching it."
She turned to glower, though she didn't move to leave again. "How could anyone fall asleep with those costumes you got us?" she muttered at last as they reset their positions. "All right, Openheimer. From the top...and this time, no funny business."
Colby studied the hedges in the temple gardens as he walked. Several of them looked strange—old sculptures of his that he had carved years ago but hadn't bothered to maintain. Now the various animal and humanoid shapes were overgrown, making them look like something out of a spooky movie. He shuddered as he pressed forward.
Lloyd was seated by the koi pond, and he looked up as Colby approached. Colby tugged at his collar. "You said you wanted to meet here for training, right?"
"That's right. Come take a seat."
Colby nodded, but the dread had already started. He felt Lloyd watching him closely as Colby came over to kneel down to the man dressed in green, and after a moment, the teen cleared his throat. "So, what are we going to start with? Punching bags? Sparring robots? Push-ups?"
Lloyd laughed, and the young man glanced over at the green ninja. "Those things are great for learning combat," the ninja mused. "But not necessary for connecting with your elemental power."
"So what did you have in mind?"
"I was thinking we could sit here next to the koi pond and meditate for a little while. Water can be powerful and raging, but it takes a calm mind to connect with it."
Meditate? Colby felt a rush of relief, and he sagged as he looked back at the pond where the koi were swimming around. "What exactly do you want me to do?"
"Close your eyes and focus on the sound of the water. Don't try to force anything...just listen."
That, I can do, Colby thought to himself, comforted that he wasn't going to have to spend the day getting pummeled by sparring bots after all. He crossed his legs and closed his eyes, resting his hands on his knees. He and Dani had tried meditating at times, but she generally broke the silence after a few minutes in her eagerness to talk about all the thoughts that had come into her head.
The sun was warm where it was beating down on them, but the February wind was still crisp as it tugged at the jacket Colby was wearing and ruffled his hair. He could hear the slight splashing sounds of the koi meandering in their home, and he smiled a little. Worries about his family and his schooling kept coming to mind, trying to fill the silence, and he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Try to block out everything but the pond," Lloyd suggested, and Colby nodded as he kept his eyes closed. He envisioned doors closing and locking, keeping out the various stressors that were trying to invade the peaceful place he had created. The sounds of the water and the Koi rushed and ebbed.
He wasn't sure how long he had meditated, but all at once he felt someone squeezing his shoulder. He came crashing back down into reality, and he opened his eyes to see Lloyd smiling at him. "How do you feel?" the ninja asked, and Colby looked down his hands.
"Um...good," he offered lamely, and Lloyd chuckled.
"You seemed relaxed. I'm impressed—you're certainly better at mediating than your Mom and Dad."
Colby shrugged a shoulder, glancing away. The mention of his parents seemed to open the doors that he had locked, and anxiety filled the space that he had been floating in a few minutes earlier. He sighed as his realities came crashing back in, but then he realized that Lloyd was moving his hand to the water.
"See if you can get it to react," Lloyd offered. Colby furrowed his brow as he put his hand over the water. He willed the calm liquid to ripple or splash, but the pond was as still as ever as he frowned down at it. The longer he stared, the more the anxious feelings inside seemed to build.
What if I'm not the master of water? What if this whole thing is a mistake, and I've gone and made a huge deal out of nothing? Or, what if I am but I can't do this, and Mom and Dad will think I'm some kind of failure and Mia will say—
"Relax, Colby," Lloyd offered gently. "You don't have to prove anything. Just close your eyes and see what happens."
Colby squeezed his eyes shut, but the voices of doubt were still there. For a moment he let himself panic. Why can't I do it again? Why could I do it at the museum, anyway? As he thought about the museum, Colby thought of Dani. Her face came to mind, a few inches from his as her nose crinkled in amusement. Find your flow.
Cold water engulfed his hand, and Colby gasped as his eyes flew open. He had been sure he had accidentally let his hand drift down into the pond, but as he caught sight of his hand, he stared in surprise. The water had twisted up from the pond before weaving around his fingers like a snake. As Colby stared, the water slowly swallowed his whole hand, encasing it in the cool liquid.
"Well, there's no doubt about it," Lloyd offered with a grin. "You're the master of water, Colby."
Colby didn't answer, but as he wiggled his fingers in the watery glove, he couldn't help but smile.
18
"DADDY! I WANT DADDY!"
Hershel bolted upright, groggily turning toward the sound. Next to him, Myrah was stirring as well. The Healer furrowed his brow, pushing himself out of bed as he headed for the smaller room that was connected to his and Myrah's main chamber.
"Raiyn?" he called, pushing the door open. His son shrieked again, and Hershel caught sight of Raiyn tossing in his small bed. Hershel reached him quickly, pulling him up into his arms. "Wake up, Raiyn. You're all right," he assured. Raiyn woke up, his copper-streaked eyes meeting his father's in the darkness. The child's lower lip trembled as his eyes filled with tears.
"Another nightmare?" Myrah asked softly from the doorway. Hershel sighed as he pushed Raiyn's hair from his face.
"I think so. Did you have a bad dream, Raiyn?"
"Bad Tent-men," the child blubbered. "And Pip-pip...and Teag..."
"What tent-men?" Hershel pressed, but Raiyn didn't answer as he buried his face into Hershel's shirt.
"It could be anything. Maybe he's dreaming of tents coming to life—he used to be scared of his own shadow." Myrah knelt down to smile at her son. "It was just a dream, Raiyn. Go back to sleep."
Raiyn shuddered, still clinging to Hershel. "I wanna sleep with you," he whimpered.
"Raiyn..."
"Please, Daddy."
Hershel glanced at Myrah and finally sighed. "Okay, Raiyn."
"Really? You want to come sooner?" Amber sounded surprised.
"Can you get it worked out with the council?" Theo asked, tapping his desk as he glanced at the satchel sitting nearby. He had been worried about being drowsy after the previous night's escapades, but the mystery behind his discovery kept him wide awake as he tried to puzzle it out. Eventually, he had come to the conclusion that he wasn't going to be able to solve the riddle alone, but he couldn't trust anyone here with the find. Not if he expected to be allowed to work directly against the slave trade anymore.
"I have a meeting today—I'll bring it up. I think they'd be fine if you came...and I'm excited to see you. Why the change of heart?"
"It will be good to see everyone."
"Grandpa will be ecstatic. I'll let him know after I talk to the council."
Theo felt a worm of guilt, but he shoved it aside. "It will be good to talk with Grandpa," he admitted. "You're still close to Zane and Pix, right?"
"Uh, as close as we've ever been, I guess. Why?"
Theodynn glanced at the satchel again. "I just have a few realm-related questions for them."
The sounds of the market stirred the strangest feeling, and for the first time since setting out from the Hidden Village, Haiven smiled. She slipped off her hoofer and led it to a trough of water to tie it up, her heart pounding. She had never dared come this far from the Hidden Village alone, but she had reached the conclusion that she was either doomed to spend her life tucked away, or she had to get used to going out without Theodynn.
Her hoofer waved its mane before settling into the water in the trough. It had been a gift from Theodynn back when he had first started taking her to see more of the realm, and it was one of the only gifts from the Oni Heir that she couldn't bare to part with. She patted the hoofer's flank and headed off to see what was new. Surely there'd be a lot she hadn't seen before—it had been months since her last visit.
She visited her favorite vendors and spent far too long agonizing over which supple cloth or vibrant thread to purchase, and eventually made her way over to the small section of the bazaar that contained embroidery.
"Look who it is!" one of the merchants called. Haiven glanced up to see a woman with large earrings waving her over. "My favorite supplier—I haven't seen you for months! You realize how in-demand your work is, don't you? I was afraid something had happened to you."
Haiven smiled shyly and pulled her satchel from her shoulder. She knew this merchant well enough that she knew the woman wouldn't ask her to speak. Instead, the merchant watched as Haiven unloaded her wares and laid them on the table.
"High quality as always," the merchant said, rubbing a length of cloth between two fingers, but she sounded disappointed. Haiven glanced up, and the woman smiled grimly. "I was hoping you'd have more than this for me, considering how long you've been gone."
Haiven glanced away, pushing her hair behind her ear. The merchant chuckled.
"Word is you and the Oni Heir aren't together anymore. What happened? Didn't feel like being royalty?"
Haiven's expression darkened, and she moved to take back the cloth she had laid on the table. The merchant lurched out to stop her, laughing.
"Woah! Touchy subject, I see. I'll drop the issue, but only if you're ready to haggle for these."
The tattooed young woman stared down at her wares, steeling herself. Theo had been the one who acted as translator for her previous haggling attempts. Haiven had known that by coming without him, she was possibly setting herself up to get ripped off. However, at this point, she would rather get underpaid for her work than let the work pile up at home, with no point or purpose. She met the merchant's eye and nodded, and the woman smiled.
"I was thinking a new length cloth for the lot of them."
Haiven scowled, shaking her head adamantly. The woman laughed, pulling up the cloth she had in mind.
"You haven't seen it yet! I got it from the south...never seen anything like it before. I have no idea how they made it so soft, but see for yourself." She pushed the cloth toward Haiven, who frowned and fingered it. She was shocked—it was true that the cloth was soft. In fact, she could barely see the weave in it at all...who could have made something like this? It was a few minutes before Haiven realized she hadn't replied, and she looked up at the merchant with a conflicted expression.
"You'll never find anything else like it," the woman pointed out. "To be honest, that cloth is probably worth more than your embroidery, but I've been holding on to it just for you. I'm betting I can make a fortune if I had some of your quality embroidery on such a superior weave. Take the cloth and make something with it, and I'll pay you handsomely to get it back."
Haiven frowned, pondering the deal. Theo had always told her not to accept the first offer when it came to haggling, but after a minute, she had to admit that she didn't see a downside to the offer. Even though she had been hoping for money in return for her wares, she couldn't stop fingering the strange cloth. It was a blush pink, and besides the weave being impossibly tight, she had never seen anything dyed this color. How had the creator made such a soft color?
"Do we have a deal?" the merchant asked, and Haiven looked up to nod. The merchant seemed just as pleased with the arrangement, and after Haiven managed to get the new cloth into her large satchel, she turned to go.
"Thief!" a call rang out in the bazaar, causing the young woman to stiffen. In all the normal chaos of the market, she realized she could see a figure ducking between the stalls, pushing things back behind him in an effort to trip up the guards chasing him. The sight of a thief wasn't that uncommon, but as Haiven caught a glimpse of the boy's face, her throat caught.
Teag?
She lurched into action, moving to try and get a better look. Market-goers were yelling and causing a ruckus, making a fuss about their wares lying in piles on the ground while guards pushed past them and shouted orders.
Odd that Fortress guards are here chasing common thieves, Haiven thought, her heart pounding. She rushed through the market, dodging between the frazzled merchants as they yelled at her. She rounded a row of stalls, and suddenly the boy and his pursuers were in front of her. She came to a standstill, realizing the guards had managed to catch the boy.
"Come on...it was just a few measly coins," the thief was huffing, straining against the guards holding him captive. "I can work this out with the merchant...no need for the fortress guards to be involved."
Haiven frowned as she inched closer, studying the boy. Now that she got a good look at him, she realized that he wasn't Teag. He was taller than Teag, for one thing, and his hair was merely long and unkempt, rather than being tied into dreadlocks. However, as the teen glowered at his captors, Haiven couldn't help but think there was a striking resemblance between the thief and her young friend.
"You've been skiving off the market for years," the head guard growled. "Finally caught ya, you parasite."
"I never took anything that important," the thief countered, but Haiven could hear his voice trembling with fear.
"Take him back to the fortress, and let Tala know we got another one."
The thief blanched, finding his voice again. "Tala? Ancients, she's not going to care about a few coins! I'll give them back—"
"All criminals are to be taken directly to the Leader of the East," the head guard growled again, looking down at the struggling thief. "Tala's orders."
"You're overreacting!" the teen yelled, but the guard merely waved for the others to take him away. Haiven felt glued to the spot as she watched, and the head guard turned and scowled as he saw her staring.
"Official Fortress Business," he barked. "Move along!"
"You vanted to see me?"
Zerek looked up to see the tall blonde waiting in his doorway, and he gave the woman a tight smile. "Agatha. Come in." She did so, heading for the seat across from his desk, and Zerek watched her carefully. "How vas the trip to Ninjago?"
"Fascinating," the younger scientist gushed as she pushed her hair back behind her shoulder. "I learned so much...and not just about science." She leaned forward, her voice hushed. "Did you know zat Julien Cyrus vas raised by androids? His fazer is—"
"Ze elemental master of ice," Zerek finished, standing. Out of habit, he glanced over at his bulletin board, but it was currently hidden behind a poster of the periodic table.
Agatha blinked in surprise. "You knew? Vhy didn't you tell me?"
Zerek glanced over. "I assumed you knew—you're dating ze boy, aren't you?"
Agatha's expression crumpled slightly. "Vell, yes...but he kept his past close to ze vest."
"Julien's roots, as you call zem, are a main reason we extended ze invitation to him to come study at MIRI in ze first place." The blonde woman seemed surprised to hear that, and Zerek adjusted a few baubles on his desk. "I trust you vere able to attend ze seminar zat Julien's fazer put on?"
"Ve did," Agatha assured. "It vas very interesting—I'm writing a full report on his findings to give to you." She paused a moment, seeming to debate with herself before rushing on. "Before zis trip, I had heard of elemental masters, but I didn't realize ze extent of zer abilities...and I certainly didn't realize zat von of zem vas an android. It seems strange, zat zis is not common knowledge in Metallonia, as it is in Ninjago."
"Elemental Masters are found zroughout ze realm," Zerek mused. "Even in Metallonia."
"Zen vie do we not learn about zem? I vent to extensive lengths in my schooling, and yet it feels like zere is so much I vas never taught!"
"Elemental mastery is often considered more magic zan science, Agatha. Few researchers felt it necessary to study the abilities of a vigilante team of self-proclaimed saviors..."
"Zere is artificial intelligence zat has ze ability to command a natural element of ze world!" Agatha blurted. "Zat is science...somezing we should be telling everyone about! Somezing zat ve could use in our own research!"
"I plan to, Miss Axel," Zerek countered with a smile. "Zat is vie I had you attend ze seminar, after all. I have alvays been interested in learning more about elemental mastery...especially ze android member of ze original ninja team. However, Zane's privacy has made it difficult for me to learn much. Zat is vie I vas so excited to hear about ze seminar."
"I vill finish my report and get it to you as soon as I can," Agatha promised, pushing herself up from the chair. "I feel like ve are on ze brink of somezing big..."
"I agree," Zerek said coolly. Agatha barely seemed to hear him as she went to leave, her mind no doubt whirling. However, the lead scientist called out just as the pretty woman left. "Agatha?"
"Yes?" she turned, and Zerek pushed the glasses up his nose.
"How has Julien been, since returning?"
Agatha looked surprised. "He's doing fine—he's helping me vith ze report, but he's also got to work on his projects as well. In fact—"
"Has anyzing seemed...off about him?"
"Off?" Agatha's expression clouded.
"I just vasn't sure how a visit to his home would go," Zerek said, adjusting another desk ornament. "From vat I gazer, he has a strained relationship vith his robotic parents."
"Vell, I'm not sure it's strained..."
"You vill let me know if anyzing changes in his behavior...von't you?" Zerek interrupted. "If anyzing out of ze ordinary develops?"
Agatha still seemed confused, but she finally nodded. "I'll keep a close eye on him."
Zerek finally smiled. "Zank you, Agatha."
Rook stuffed the last of her belongings into a bag. Should she try to take the tent as well? It would be nice to have the shelter, but it would make it easier for Quazier to find her. She pushed her hair from her face, heaving a sigh.
"Planning a trip?"
The woman froze, but she forced a laugh as she turned. "Quazier. I need to get you a bell."
Her boss wasn't amused. "Put the bag down, Rook."
She kept the smile on her face as she obliged, but internally, she was fuming. How on earth had he heard about her failure so quickly? Maybe he hasn't. she reasoned. Maybe—
"I trust you with one job, Rook. Years of training, countless hours of time, and you couldn't manage a simple task."
Rook's hope fell, but she immediately stiffened in defense. "It wasn't my fault."
"Of course it's your fault! I told you to kill him, and instead—"
"You're the one who lied to me!" she snapped. "You told me that he'd be an easy target—that without his bodyguard—"
"Do you realize the danger you've put us all in? In one night, you've put everything in jeopardy!"
"He's not some soft pushover! He's been trained, Quazier...highly trained! You sent me into a job thinking I'd be shooting a baby hoofer in its sleep—but you underestimated him."
Quazier scoffed. "Everyone knows the Prince is soft. Without his bodyguard—"
"Then everyone is wrong." Rook's eyes flashed in anger. "I had him all to myself last night, and he's nothing like you said that he'd be. You'd need an entire team to take him down."
"We already tried that," Quazier snapped. "But that team failed because of the bodyguard...that's why I assigned you to take care of it while he was alone." He shook his head in disgust. "But you're just as big of a failure. What am I going to do with you now?"
"Calm down," Rook snapped, folding her arms. "It's not the end of the world."
"The Prince is alive! He survived an assassination, Rook! We're going to have the entire army scouring the south now. Ancient's, girl, after everything I've sacrificed to create you, how dare you fail me!"
"Yes, the little Heir is alive, but he's not going to be sending out an army," Rook countered. She hoped she sounded confident as she rolled her eyes. "If there's one thing you got right about him, it's that he's naïve."
Quazier's expression clouded. "What do you mean?"
"He didn't even seem to realize it was an assassination attempt," Rook admitted, though the confession still hurt her pride. "He was convinced that Ottan sent me, and the whole thing was some forceful romantic advance." She pulled out her reflectionless blade, scowling down at it. "How dense do you have to be to not realize someone's trying to kill you?"
"Forceful romantic advance?" Quazier sounded skeptical, and Rook rolled her eyes.
"He told me to tell Ottan to get off his case and then left. Considering that I haven't heard any realm-wide announcement that the Prince was almost assassinated last night, I think he let it go." Rook's grip tightened on the knife in her hand. "His mistake. Now that I know what to expect, I'll be able to finish the job next time I—"
"No."
Rook looked up to meet her boss's eye. "What do you mean, no?"
"You're sure the Prince thought you were an overreaching suitor?"
"If he didn't, I'd probably be dead right now," Rook muttered. It was another painful confession, but she needed to calm Quazier's fears before he did something rash. "Look, I get you're upset, but I know what I did wrong, and I'll be able to kill him the next time I see him. Just give me a little more time."
"Oh, you'll have plenty of time," Quazier snapped, though his expression was more calculating now than murderous.
"What are you planning?" Rook asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Assassination was the easiest way to get the prince off our trail...but you've gone and fudged any chance we had of that."
"I told you, I can fix it!"
"No! You're obviously not equipped to take on the Prince hand-to-hand, and another failed or messy assassination will doom us all."
"I only failed because I didn't know what to expect! He's better than you guys give him credit for, but this time—"
"This time you're going to be exactly what he thinks you are," Quazier cut in. "The problem with the prince is he's getting too close to our true trade. Killing him would have remedied that problem...but so would having a way to distract him on the inside."
Rook scoffed. "You better not be saying what I think you're saying."
"You're going to be glued to his hip, Rook—if he thinks you're a suitor, then you're going to be the best suitor he's ever met. If he gets too close to any of our dealings, you distract him, or point him in a different direction. If that doesn't work to get him off the trail, then at least you'll be nice and close to kill him after all...but only as a last resort."
"Are you insane? Do you realize the risk that would put me in? It's one thing to kill someone in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night...it's another to go right under the noses of the entire royal family..."
"You're the one who likes risk, remember?" Quazier snapped. "Besides, this is your mess. You have to be the one to clean it up."
"I will! By killing him! Ancients, Quazy..."
"We don't know if he's told anyone about your attack last night! Even if he is stupid enough to believe it was a shoddy attempt at romance, he's surrounded by sharper minds. If they hear what happened, they're going to know that someone tried to kill him, and we're back to being hunted by the entire army. It's up to you to get to the fortress and convince them that you really are merely a crazed woman desperate for the Prince's attention."
"I think I'd rather deal with the army," Rook said flatly. Quazier narrowed his eyes.
"I wasn't asking what you'd rather do...I'm telling you what you are going to do."
"I'm not getting that close to this problem...I'll get caught, and it will be my neck on the line!"
"It's already your neck on the line," Quazier told her darkly. "You'll fix this, or our next shipment will include an extra sassy slave." Rook's grip tightened on her knife, but the leader merely sneered. "Make a move on me, and you'll be dead, girl. I've got my bowman stationed around your tent—I wasn't entirely sure how this conversation would go, after all."
"Even if I went to the fortress, the Prince has made it clear that he's not interested in what I'd have to offer."
"Then change his mind. You're a clever, good-looking girl, Rook. You'll figure it out."
Rook glowered, wishing she could attack the man in front of her. How dare he force her into a corner...and how dare he expect her to go grovel at the Heir's feet. However, she knew his threat about the bowman was true. If she made the wrong move, she'd be filled with crossbow bolts.
Not for the first time, Rook wished she could leave Quazier behind and disappear into the realm, but she knew she'd never really be rid of him. The traders didn't handle traitors well—she had helped hunt down enough of them to know that she'd spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.
"Fine. I'll go get the Heir off our trail," she said darkly. "But after this job, I'm done."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that once the Prince is no longer a threat, I'm not under your thumb anymore. You let me leave."
Quazier studied her and finally laughed. "Get into the fortress, and into the Prince's good graces, and then we'll talk, Rook."
"Quazy..."
"You're the one who failed here, sweetheart...so you're the one who needs to show me that I can still trust you. Until then, you can be sure we'll have you under very close watch."