for their disregard for social regulations like public intoxication and nudity, Iana was enthralled by Keryn’s description of the Voice and the Ritual of Initiation. Iana grilled her for hours. Though shy at first, Keryn quickly found herself warming to the interrogation and sharing insight about having two distinct personalities in her mind. Their shared laughter stretched into the night.
Well past midnight, the mood in the bar shifted. No longer did the band produce bone-jarring beats and raucous riffs. Instead, the pace slowed, allowing intoxicated cadets to pair off and spend the remainder of the evening dancing slowly, cradled in each other’s arms. For Keryn and Iana, it allowed them to speak more easily, as they continued storytelling, no longer required to lean close to each other and shout to be heard.
As groups of cadets left the bar, having found mates for the night, Keryn stretched her stiffening muscles. Though she drank quite a few glasses during the night, her pace and constitution left her feeling little more than a bit light-headed. Iana, however, giggled softly to herself between bouts of hiccups.
Realizing it was time to leave, Keryn slid from her chair and cradled Iana in her arms, trying to help the flaccid girl off her stool.
“Isn’t this a cute scene?” a pompous, singing voice called from behind the pair.
Keryn gritted her teeth, feeling the day’s frustrations immediately return. “I didn’t come here for trouble, Sasha. We’re leaving, anyway.”
“Is this your last party before they put you on a ship and send you home? After your pathetic displays the past couple of days, it’s only a matter of time before you’re gone. Might as well turn in your letter of resignation now and save yourself the embarrassment of having the instructors do it for you.”
Keryn sat Iana on her stool again. The Pilgrim reached for her twice before managing to land a calming hand on her arm. “Don’t let her….” She hiccupped. “Don’t let her pick a fight with you. Just let it be.”
“Don’t worry.” Keryn placed a reassuring hand on Iana’s. “I won’t do anything I’ll regret in the morning.”
Stepping away from her roommate, Keryn turned toward Sasha and her throng of friends. Keryn counted six females behind the Avalon. From the corner of her eye, she saw Zalide inhaling from a hookah. Quickly figuring the odds, she was certain none of Sasha’s group posed a physical threat. Still, though she may have willingly started a fight when she arrived at the bar, the anger of the day was gone. Instead, all she wanted was to take Iana home.
“What are you staring at, Freak,” Sasha asked.
“Nothing, Sasha. I’m not looking at anything.” She turned to collect her belongings.
“So now I’m nothing? Is that what you’re saying? Do you think you’re somehow better than me, Loser?”
Knowing Sasha wanted a fight, Keryn ignored the prodding from Sasha and the Voice’s gentle cooing. The Voice’s misguided advice articulated Keryn’s subconscious desires, but even it didn’t have her best interests at heart.
A rough voice from behind let Keryn know Sasha wasn’t going to give up so easily. “I’m talking to you. Don't you dare ignore me.”
“Don’t push me,” Keryn growled, barely loud enough for Sasha to hear.
Bolstered by her perceived dominance of the situation and her friends behind her, Sasha wouldn’t stop. “I’ll do whatever I want, and I’ll say whatever I want. The fact is, you’re a savage, and so is your friend. Your entire, pathetic excuse for a race is full of savages. You’re all better off dead.”
Keryn dropped Iana heavily onto her stool.
“Don’t do this, Keryn,” Iana begged weakly.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll be right back.”
Spinning, she lashed out with a lightning-fast right cross that landed solidly on the surprised Avalon’s face. Keryn felt a satisfying crunch of cartilage in the delicate Avalon’s nose, as Sasha flew backward and crumpled to the hardwood floor. Dark blood spilled heavily from her broken nose, and her eyes fluttered, as she fought to remain conscious.
A tumbling chair and bellow of rage warned Keryn that more trouble was brewing. From across the room, Sasha’s boyfriend leaped to his feet and charged Keryn. His fist reared back, as he telegraphed his attack from halfway across the bar.
Keryn snapped her head to one side and locked her smoldering purple eyes on the intoxicated Zalide. Her body coiled in attack position, she raised her finger in warning.
“Stop!” The volume of that word was augmented by the power of her voice. The strength of her tone startled Zalide, carving cleanly through his mental fog. Surprised, he slowed his charge until it was a slow walk before stopping a few feet away from the dangerous Wyndgaart. Confused, he stared at the confident woman.
“You at a crossroads, and you need to make a decision,” Keryn said. “I know what you want to do. You want to play the role of knight in shining armor. You’ve rushed to the aid of your love and want revenge on the person who brought her low, but this isn’t a storybook. If you decide to go forward with your plan and attack me, let me explain how the rest of your night will go.
“First, your punch will be far too slow. You’re drunk, and I’m not. Beyond that, I’m a Wyndgaart and the finest fighter in the class. So you’ll punch, and you’ll miss terribly. By the time you realize I’m not on the connecting end of your powerful punch, I’ll already be behind you. Your back will be exposed, which will allow me to pummel it on both sides. Why the lower back, you ask? Because that’s where your kidneys are.”
Keryn looked to make sure she had everyone’s attention and no one else was trying to flank her. Confident they were paying attention, she continued, “Have you ever been punched in the kidneys? I have. It’s a miserably painful experience. Every time I hit your kidney, more and more blood vessels will rupture. They’ll spill blood into your kidneys. The same thing will happen to your intestinal tract, as stray punches rupture blood vessels in there, too, mixing blood into your bowels.
“The end result will be that your friends will carry you out of here tonight. Tomorrow, once you’re sober again, you’ll have plenty of time to wonder why you made such a poor decision every time you go to the bathroom and fill the toilet with dark, red blood. All that will happen because of a bad decision you’re about to make.”
She shifted her stance in preparation for the conclusion of their discussion. “Which brings us back to the present. Either you take your slut of a girlfriend and leave right now, or you can do what I see in your eyes you want, and try to attack me. It’s your choice, Terran humper.”
For a moment, Keryn thought he might’ve taken her offer to leave. However, she wasn’t able to pass up an opportunity to goad him one last time.
The Uligart launched at her, throwing a clubbing fist downward toward her head. Sliding easily to the right, she watched him slam his fist painfully into the solid bar. As he howled in pain, she extended a knuckle on her right hand and struck the side of his neck.
Zalide jerked, as the muscles in his neck seized, leaving him unable to turn his head. Keryn immediately followed that up with a swift knee to his abdomen. Clutching his stomach, he doubled over in pain, as she moved behind him.
She delivered a series of blows to his lower back. The Uligart grunted in pain, tears rolling from his eyes, as she alternated open-handed palm strikes and close-fisted punches to the delicate area. Slowly, his knees buckled, and he slumped against a barstool.
Her vision red with anger, Keryn only partially heard yells of surprise. They reached her ears as if she were under water. Figures approached from the corner of her vision. Finished with Zalide, she drove her knee into the back of his neck, disrupting his nervous system and dropping him unconscious to the floor.
Moving quicker than she anticipated, a figure slammed into her side, lifting her from her feet. The two landed heavily together, their limbs intertwined, as the attacker tried to pin her to the ground. Lashing out with an elbow, she caught his jaw and sent him reeling backward while freeing her.
As she slid away and fought to regain her footing, she noticed the dark, black pants and matching uniform jacket of an instructor. He cupped his mouth, blood seeping from between his fingers and dribbling down to his jacket collar. He glared at her with venom.
“Cadet Riddell!” a familiar Avalon voice yelled, cutting through the commotion. “You’ll stand down at once.”
Victoria stood in the doorway, her wings tucked tightly to her side, her hands on her hips, as she glowered at
