And to think she believed she’d never possessed a gift from the Dragon. Now she felt its power coursing through her body as strong and sure as her own thunderous heartbeat.
Leto was so careful. He didn’t touch her anywhere other than where their hands fused with the charged metal that gave them back what made them special. But his voice had always been a force, an enticement, a touch of its own.
“I can see why you hate him,” he said, as if their discussion about Dr. Aster had never ceased. “And how much danger Jack is in.”
A sob coughed out of her lungs, which burned as if she’d run for miles in the searing winter cold. “That’s the first . . .” She coughed again, leaned her head back to rest against his solid strength. “That’s the first time you’ve called him by his name.”
“Maybe it was time.” He let go of her hand and smoothed his fingers along both of her cheeks, back across her hair. He turned her, held her, would not let her look away. “You need to decide now, Nynn. Are you ready to do what you must?”
“Will you be here, too? I mean, an Indranan witch . . .”
“Yes. I’ll be here.”
A chill unlike any she’d ever known stole over her skin. Not even Leto’s nearness kept it away. But she had no other choice. She needed to control her powers, no matter the cost.
“Then, yes. Let me meet her.”
FIFTEEN
Within minutes, Leto had secured the gates to the training arena, locking Nynn inside. He couldn’t trust the guards, so he behaved as he always would. Champion of the Asters. With any luck, they wouldn’t notice his slight limp. Most of the napalm bullets had missed the mark, but one had pierced his thigh. The bullets didn’t go through flesh; they nestled just inside the skin and burned and burned.
Even with time spent in the Cage, they’d both be long to heal. They were in no shape to fight at top form. Not physically. Not mentally. Despite the embrace they’d shared, and the awkward kisses, they weren’t partners either. For the first time, he envied Silence and Hark. They were both Sath. Same clan. Same history and abilities. When they stepped into a Cage together, they moved and breathed as one. Unified and deadly.
He didn’t want that—not permanently. But to feel it just once?
Shunting those thoughts aside, he focused on a more pressing matter. He felt as if eyes followed him everywhere. Aster had seen Nynn and Kilgore together, and what Leto had done to punish them both. Who was to say they were alone, completely alone, in the training arena?
Why hadn’t he ever considered that possibility before?
Because since his youth, he’d never done anything to make being observed a concern.
The guards were especially wary of him. Since he’d been attacked from behind—and because, frankly, he’d taken to believing all the human rabble looked alike—he didn’t know whether these two men had done him harm. He wanted retribution. He fisted his hands and kept walking toward the Dragon Kings’ quarters. They flanked him closely. He couldn’t remember the last time a human had thought to encroach on his space.
In trying to save Nynn from the inevitable, he’d lost much of his standing in the complex. Only a fresh victory—still doubtful—would help restore his importance and trustworthiness.
At least Nynn was on his side for the first time. She wanted to control her powers.
He knocked on a dorm room door. A haggard-looking old Indranan woman name Ulia answered. What must’ve once been the golden, flawless skin of a Dragon King woman was creased with wrinkles and so wan as to be unnerving. She might be two hundred years old, for all Leto knew. Stooped. Gray-haired. Eyes clouded to the point of blindness. She didn’t need sight. Her telepathy meant she used other people’s eyes to compensate for her own.
One of many, many reasons why Leto avoided her.
She had once fought in early Cage matches. Her telepathy was legendary among those who’d served the Asters—and likely among those who’d feared facing her in a Grievance. Only when she’d lost her leg to a Pendray berserker did the Old Man offer her freedom. She’d refused. After decades in the complex, the outside world held no appeal. She had purpose among the other warriors.
At his own errant thought, Leto bit his back teeth together. He wasn’t afraid of anything. Only the thought of disappointing the Old Man and risking the safety of his family held any sting. Surely Dr. Aster would tell his father of Leto’s transgressions. He had a lot of ground to make up with his mentor.
“Young Garnis,” she said, her smile cagey. “No courtesy for your elders? No greeting? This is no time for conversation.”
The night was in its ninth hour. Not quite time to rouse. Dragon Kings renewed on a twenty-six-hour cycle. Ten sleeping. Sixteen waking. The actual hours of an Earth day had no impact belowground. That he hadn’t slept in longer than he could remember was probably doing his judgment no favors.
He wondered how Nynn and the Dragon Kings coped while living among the humans. Perhaps they adjusted as Yeta had, learning to accept the constant touch of sluggishness that came with being awakened too soon from a solid rest. Perhaps that had affected Nynn’s ability to channel her gift. She’d never been in touch with the rhythm of body.
“My neophyte. You’ve heard talk of her, I’m sure.”
“The Giva’s cousin. How could anyone close their ears to such a temptation? And she’s to partner with you.”
“As the Old Man bids.”
Her grin widened. It was unnatural to see a Dragon King use such a breadth of facial expressions. Ulia was animated, as was Hark—that disturbing, chattering jester. Leto had only just gotten used to the variety Nynn could produce. Perhaps other rumors—that Ulia was just as mad as she was powerful—could be true as well. No one outside of their clan knew how the Indranan’s gifts worked. For all Leto knew, she had three personalities in that small, almost shrunken old head, grappling for control. Perhaps they only came together when it was time to crawl into someone else’s mind.
He stiffened his back to hide a shudder. The Pendray were easy to understand. Simple brawn and mindless rage. The Sath were secretive but manageable thieves. When the Tigony weren’t playing Tricksters and sidling up to their human subjects, their gift of concentrated electricity could be evaded. Fellow Garnis—well, that was just a matter of knowing one’s own weaknesses and turning the tables. So few of the Lost remained that Leto had never faced one in competition. Frankly, he didn’t know if he could kill one of his own.
But the Indranan. They were so devious, with a gift so potentially devastating, that a millennia-old feud had broken the clan in two. Northern versus Southern, separated by the Indian Ocean. They would kill a fellow member of their clan as surely as they would kill a sibling.
Revolting people.
“She was blocked at the onset of her gift,” he said. “She’s needs it reversed.”
“As the Old Man bids.”
“How do you mean?”
“He instructed me to provide any services you requested for your neophyte. What is her name?”
The surprise of Ulia’s statement came first. Was Nynn so valuable that the Old Man hadn’t trusted Leto with her training? The truth—that Leto
Then came another concern. The Indranan witch didn’t know Nynn’s name? Perhaps she was playing games. Testing his patience. Or pretending to be a doddering crone. She might not know Nynn’s name. Maybe she hadn’t cared to learn, or had forgotten.
