Dissent
Author: Auryn Hadley
Date: 2017-10-14T18:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Romance; Science Fiction
Description: HER MIND IS MORPHING BY THE MINUTE…PREPARE TO HAVE YOURS BLOWN! Cancel your lunch and dinner dates, and clear out your inbox at work before picking up DISSENT , the SEVENTH installment of the action-packed sci-fi fantasy series , Rise Of The Iliri! Because this is the truth: This epic series, spellbinding from the first, only becomes more powerfully enthralling with each adventure. Start DISSENT at your peril if you have looming deadlines! Author Auryn Hadley goes deep rather than wide on this one, reveling in the relationships that are the source of power of Salryc Luxx, commander of the Angl
Publisher: Spotted Horse Productions

Table of Contents

- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Epilogue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4

Rise of the Iliri

Book Seven

Auryn Hadley

Spotted Horse Productions

Dissent is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2017 by Auryn Hadley

All Rights Reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher and the copyright owner constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.

Published by Spotted Horse Productions

First Edition: September 2017

Cover Art by Spotted Horse Productions

Edited by Sarah Williams

Contents:

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Glossary of Iliran words

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Sometimes the only good answer is to close your eyes and jump.

Introduction

SINCE THE DAWN OF TIME, the iliri have been called beasts and treated as either pets or livestock.  The only things we knew about ourselves came from whispers spoken softly, far away from human ears.  Even our own language was hoarded like some treasure.  From mother to child, everything we'd experienced was passed down quietly, giving us some hold on our history, but it wasn't enough.  Often, the stories felt more like wishes than reality.

Until she came.

Nothing about her should have been a surprise.  Always, when we needed help most, one female would rise up to lead us.  We'd recognize her by her scent, that of hope and dreams, and we'd call her Kaisae.  In the past, she'd been just like us – but now we were different.  Our people had been diluted, changed by generations of crossbreeding until we weren't sure what we were anymore.  She didn't have that problem.

One look at her reminded us all of what we were supposed to be.  The pride in her eyes proved that we hadn't always been property.  We hadn't been created to live as slaves!  Once, long ago, we were the ones in charge, and it had been women like her who'd kept us safe.

But that was before humans fell from the stars.  Everything they needed, they brought with them – or so they thought.  From the crops they planted on our soil to the animals that grazed on our hunting grounds, what had once been ours, they took as their own.  It was never enough.

They wanted metal.  It held up their homes, powered their machines, and made them stronger than us, but our world didn't have much.  No matter what name they used, iron, copper, and even gold were things we'd never seen until humans came.  They swore it existed, but it seemed there wasn't enough to go around.  They decided to use us instead.

They hunted our prey, destroyed our homes, and killed our culture to make us serve them.  When we objected, they twisted us, forcing us to stand taller, bleed more red, and even speak their words.  Soon, we replaced their machines, and the humans were finally happy with their easy lives.

In only a few generations, we became their greatest tool, kept in check by our primal needs and shackled by our own minds.  Our species learned to submit.  Humans were stronger, so we had no other choice.  We still tried to resist, always relying on the best of our women to show us what to do.  Over and over, we failed, forced to become meek and obedient until we eventually forgot there had been any other way.

The stories of our history became myths.  Mothers gave up whispering them to their babies.  Our grandchildren ignored us when we tried, and theirs called them lies.  It didn't happen fast, but after many, many lifetimes, the humans had finally won.  The iliri, a once proud species, had become the pets humans had always called us, tamed through generations of domestication.

And that's when she finally appeared.  With her eyes locked on the ground, no one would have guessed that the worthless bitch was a threat.  We'd fought for so long, biting, clawing, and killing to keep what little pride we had left, but she'd learned something new.  She'd figured out how to be overlooked.

In other times, our people never would have chosen her.  In other circumstances, she wouldn't have been good enough.  Lucky for us, she was all we had, because that one unimportant girl was about to become the hope of an entire culture, and it only happened because no one told her it couldn't.

Raised by humans, she was ignorant about her own species.  All she knew was her shame for being different, but now she had a pack she could lean on.  The Black Blades had spent nearly a decade proving they were the perfect soldiers.  Since she'd joined, they'd become so much more than just a military unit.  They were a family, and they succeeded because they were no longer ashamed to be iliri.

Our masters weren't happy about it.  They tried to break the Black Blades.  When nothing else worked, they sent her away, thinking her nothing more than a beast that needed to be tamed.  To Anglia, they said, that archaic country to the north.  Using the war raging on the other side of the continent as an excuse, they claimed she was the only one who could do this.  What they didn't realize was how right they were.

Her job was to replace the King with one who would support the Conglomerate of Free Citizens.  Instead, she found an ally, and along the way, she discovered our history.  It came on four legs, covered in hair, proving we really were the beasts humans claimed.  Called the grauori, these wild creatures were our best chance at stopping the war destroying everything in its path, even if she had to face the consequences of her actions.

Yet humans wouldn't give in.  Convinced they were the strongest species on the planet, some would rather face an un-winnable war than see the iliri treated as equals.  The Black Blades were disbanded.  The Kaisae was attacked.  The alliance nearly collapsed, but there was one last option: Anglia.

The nation that had fought beside our Kaisae gave her a crown and offered our people a home.  The world noticed.  The balance of power had just shifted to a country where three species lived together as one.  Human, iliri, and grauori soldiers fought side by side against the extermination of the iliri, but the Emperor of Terric just kept coming.

He wanted to see the iliri wiped off the face of the planet, and one small, pale girl wasn't going to be enough.  To defeat the resistance, he had to destroy the Kaisae of all Iliri, but abducting her from the front line revealed his own secrets: the Emperor of Terric was an iliri-human hybrid.  This was no longer a human war, not after he killed the Kaisae's mate.

She escaped, smuggled back to her pack by a man from her past, just to return to a summons from the country she'd turned her back on so long ago.  Devastated, heartbroken, and determined to get her revenge, the last thing on her mind was making another alliance.  Especially not one with a country that demanded her help.

That was the moment the Kaisae of all Iliri decided it was time for our people to rise up.  Humans were no longer the dominant species.  This war was her problem, and she'd make sure the Emperor paid for what he'd done.

Yet, throughout history, every Kaisae that rose to power succumbed to it as well.  Driven to free her people, Salryc Luxx would never see peace again.  For three thousand years, every Kaisae had either fallen in battle or been lost to the power of her own mind.  It was simply too much for one woman to handle alone.

Already, her sanity was slipping.

– Excerpt from The History of Salryc Luxx, by Ilus Molis Cernyn, Professor of Iliran history at the University of Arhhawen.

Chapter 1

WINTER IN THE CONGLOMERATE of Free Citizens was calm and brown.  Dry grasses swayed in the breeze created by the passing of the Anglian entourage.  Bare branches stood like sentries as they rode by, and slowly, the dust from the road coated them all.  The soldiers didn't care.  It was easier to clean than the mud in Unav.

Once, this place had been home.  The fields around them had been the Black Blades' and Devil Dogs' training grounds.  Up ahead was where each of them finally found a place to belong.  Here, it was hard to think of themselves as foreign dignitaries, but they were.  They'd given up their home for an idea and none of them regretted it.

The order in the Anglian ranks was relaxed.  The elite soldiers rode beside their friends, black, white, and grey armor making random patterns that completely ignored any semblance of unit structure.  The country's leaders mingled among them as if no different from the rest.  Most of them laughed and talked easily, including Sal.  Sitting atop her big black warhorse, the pale iliri woman breathed deeply, the scent bringing back memories of her early years as a soldier, before she'd become a symbol for her people.  This was where she'd grown up.

Since then, everything had changed.  So had she.  Gone was the naive and hopeful little slave girl.  She'd kept the hope, yet the innocence of youth had been destroyed – and all in a couple of years.  Just like the man who'd made her a better person.  At least the weight of her lover's loss was no longer crippling.  She missed him, and probably always would, but seeing the iliri in Prin had changed something.  Watching them rise up proved that she'd become so much more than simply a slave.  Blaec had made her into a weapon for her entire species.

Now, she had to prove it to the rest of the world.  This alliance gave her the chance to better the lives of all iliri, under the guise of beating back the country that wanted to exterminate them, and she'd brought an army to do both.  Only the grauori were missing – well, most of them.  Sal's pack mates were trotting beside the horses, but Arrnya's group had volunteered to check things in the east before meeting up with the rest of her mother's maargra on their way to Fort Landing.  The mutts could travel faster than mounted humans, so it was the best way to get accurate information about what they were up against.  It also gave the grauori the chance to run and hunt, which the beasts considered relaxing.

"Sal!" Pig yelled, cantering up the line to find her.

She turned in the saddle.  "Yeah?"

Reining his roan gelding beside Scorch, he eyed the stallion for a moment before giving his horse his head.  "We're about half an hour out.  How do you wanna play this?"

She shrugged.  "Why play?  Who are we going to impress?  The humans?"

The leader of the Devil Dogs chuckled.  "Well, even my kind knows a show of bullshit when we see it."

"Exactly," she agreed.  "So why bother?  The horses are tired, my stomach is growling, and my men don't need to pull off fancy displays for the world to know they could kick their ass."

"Fuck yeah," one of the Dogs yelled, obviously listening in.  Of course, it was Tyr.

Pig dipped his head in mock shame.  "Once upon a time, they had discipline.  You know that, right?"

"Then they killed a bunch of Terrans and it vanished?" She flashed a smile at him.  "We both know better.  Dogs learned from the best."

He caught her eye.  "Yeah.  You still hanging in there?"

"I am."  She knew he was talking about Blaec.  The former leader of the Black Blades had trained both of them.  "I miss him, but the world isn't going to wait, right?"

"Right."  He laid his hand over hers.  "He once told me that he loved you so much he hoped you'd forget him.  I didn't realize what he meant.  Thought it was that fight you two had over the blow up in Escea."

Sal shook her head.  "No.  He knew, Pig."

"Yeah.  I know that now, but he never let on."

"He was too good for that.  I won't forget him, but I think I finally get it.  He died so I could do this."  She shrugged.  "I think saving our species meant more to him than anything else, you know?"

"I can see that."  He squeezed her hand gently then retrieved his reins.  "So you know, I respect you as much as I ever did him.  You're just as good of an officer, but a lot less of a hard-ass."  He nudged his horse closer and dropped his voice.  "So stop trying to treat Kolt the way Blaec did you."

Her ears flicked back in shock.  "What?"

With a pointed look, he steered his gelding toward the next group, calling over his shoulder, "Truth, Sal.  We can all see it.  There's no rule in Anglia that prevents a Kaisae from mingling with her pack, and Conglomerate rules no longer apply."

He was right, and she knew it.  Keeping Kolt at a distance was easier because his arrival was too much for her to wrap her mind around.  She wasn't sure where he belonged in her pack, how his return would affect her, or if she even knew the man who'd changed her life so completely by encouraging her to become a soldier long ago.  For weeks, she'd tried to keep him at arm's length, hoping to convince herself that it was because of Blaec's loss – but they both knew better.  Her feelings for Kolt were complicated and confusing.

Yes, he was a beautiful man, but so were most iliri crossbreds.  He was a tolerable fighter, an excellent spy, and a devoted father, but that didn't mean she knew him.  He was also the newest member of her pack, and everything she thought she'd known had been a lie.  One meant to protect both of them from human prejudices, but still a lie.  The only way she'd ever get to know the real man was to make an effort.

Unfortunately, that was a lot easier said than done.  In the middle of a war, leading the three species of Anglian citizens against the tyranny of the Empire of Terric, and trying to convince her former country to play nicely with her new one?  She had bigger things to worry about.  It sounded good, but Pig's words made it clear that everyone knew she was distracted – and she couldn't afford that right now.  She needed to get her feral hormones in check and start thinking about war, not mates.

So she decided to change the subject.  Lifting her voice, she addressed the entire Anglian party.  "All right, we're almost there, and I have no intention of making a show of this.  If they haven't learned by now that we can kick their asses – all of them at once – then fancy formations won't matter."  She turned to make sure her soldiers were listening.  "And we still have diplomatic immunity."

Zep tapped the back of his saddle pad.  "Those three green circles are all they need to see."  Then he caught her eye.  "C'mere, demon.  If we're not worried about rank, you're riding in at my side.  I think I deserve a few bragging rights."

She kneed Scorch over beside Cessa, the mare pinning her ears before Zep corrected her.  Sal ignored her mate's obnoxious animal, reaching across the space to grab his hand. On cue, Jase moved Oubliette to her left but said nothing.  He didn't need to; his position said enough.  The left was a place of pride for their species and exactly where her ahnor belonged.  At the side, Kolt watched her ride between her mates for a few paces then turned his eyes back to the walls with a smile playing on his face.

"So, what's it feel like to parade around in this pretty black uniform, anyway?" he asked.

"Lots of women," Shift joked.  "Since you guys can't have 'em, I'll gladly take any you don't want."

Shade turned in her saddle to see him.  "You're a whore!"  Thankfully, the little redhead didn't look upset about it.

Shift nodded, pressing his lips together to hide his smile.  "I usually go with slut, but whore will do.  If they want to pay me, I won't stop them."

"You can have all mine," Risk called up to them, "but send the pretty boys to me, not Sal."

"Hey," Tilso yelped.

She looked back at her brothers.  "I'm full up on boys.  Now, Rayna and Teya might want a few."

"Rayna does not," Dom assured her, but the King was grinning.  "Rayna's just fine."

"Who said?" Rayna asked.  "Have you seen Conglomerate soldiers?  Damned near good enough to eat."

The iliri chuckled at that, even Ricown.  "Don't tempt me," he mumbled.

Teya called back, "Can you try to eat only the ugly ones?"

That brought another round of laughing, but the Verdant Shields looked a little confused.  Then again, they'd never been to the Conglomerate of Free Citizens' main military base before.  Anglia had nothing to compare to it.  Where they'd grown up, military outposts were small things, not a complete and independent town.

"Hey Sal?" their leader, Ilija, asked.  "Anything the Shields should know?"

She shook her head.  "Not really."

"Not even the whole diet thing?"

That made most of the iliri smile, even Sal.  "No, Ilija.  Not even that.  Maybe if these humans know we eat our enemies, they'll stop trying to be one."  She glanced back at him.  "We're done hiding.  We can't stop the Emperor if we're only using half our tricks, so no.  Be Anglian, and be proud of that."

"Damned proud," he assured her.  "So what about the arrogant fucks in this country?  How you want us to handle them?"

"Pretend like you're a bad-ass, and most of these guys will believe it.  You only answer to Dom and Rayna."

"And you," he said.  "Equal to Arctic.  Yeah, I know all that."

"Yeah, but," Arctic glanced back to the unit of humans, "they'll try to pull rank and see if you'll cave."

"Fuck," Ilija huffed.  "Ask Sal how well that works."

She blew that off.  "Let them try, Ilija.  You aren't the same slow cow you used to be."

"I wasn't a cow!"

"You kinda were."  She flashed him a playful smile to take the sting out of it.  "You're still slow."

"Yeah, but I can hold my own now," he teased.  "Knocked you off your feet once – in maast."

"And she got right back up," one of his men mumbled, winking at Sal.

"I always do," she assured them, turning back to the gates.  "That's why we're gonna win this war."

"Fuck yeah!" the men replied, their enthusiasm matching hers.

That's how they rode into the largest military base in the Conglomerate of Free Citizens.  The horses were all walking on a loose rein, their military fatigues were stained with road dust, and all three units were mingled together in defiance of standard military procedure, but there was no one to complain to.  None of them wore a symbol of rank.

It didn't go unnoticed.

At the main gate into Fort Landing, soldiers paused with unveiled interest.  It didn't take long to realize that a third of their party wasn't human, and that those who were didn't care if they were paired with a species considered inferior.  Such things would never happen in the CFC.  The humans didn't even try to hide their disgust.

Inside the main gate, one guy in blue muttered to the one beside him, "What the hell is this?  They sent scrubbers to back us up?"

"Hey, they brought humans too," another said.  "Not like we can turn our noses up at reinforcements."

"Shit, is that the Devil Dogs?"

"And those 'scrubbers' are the Black Blades!" a stern voice called out, making it clear they'd been heard.  "I need the south barn cleared – like yesterday.  Someone find me lodging for fifty soldiers, and the next idiot who calls the leader of Anglia anything but 'sir' will be polishing my office floor!"  An aged man in a crisp blue uniform pushed through the crowd just as Sal reined her horse in.  The clusters on his collar declared him one of the top Generals in the country.

Lifting his chin, his eyes met Sal's.  "It's nice to see you again, Kaisae."

Chapter 2

"RAN!"  SAL EXCLAIMED, sliding from Scorch's back to drop his reins in the dirt.  "You look great!"

"You too, little one."

She hugged him, wrapping her arms around his neck.  General Ran Sturmgren chuckled and patted her shoulder as properly as he could.

Leaning back, she looked him right in the eyes.  "When the leader of an allied nation hugs you," Sal informed him, "you put some effort into it."

The old man laughed and squeezed her harder, lifting her short legs from the ground.  "Better?"

"Much!"  She turned to her men.  "You remember Dom?"

"Sire," Ran said, ducking his head to the King.

"Ah fuck that, sir," Dom replied.  "Sadava is a word I know well.  It's good to see you again, General."

"Thanks for taking care of her."  Ran looked over at Sal.  "I heard about Blaec.  You ok?"

She shrugged.  "Yes and no.  Jase and Zep help, but you know how it is."

"I do.  I have a shoulder big enough for you anytime you need it."  He smiled at her tenderly.  "Now what's the official reason for the visit?"

"We're gonna kick the shit out of Terric for you?" She shrugged that off.  "Parliament basically demanded that we sign an alliance and put your country back together.  After a little negotiating for my preferred liaison, I decided to agree.  The orders are in my saddle pack."

"Whoa," Ran breathed.  "So it's official?"

"Yep," Sal assured him.  "This evening, about fifty grauori healers will arrive with the grauori Raewar.  Tell the doctors to do what they need to keep everyone breathing.  Anyone that's questionable, I'll have Risk, Shift, or Raast see now."

"There's a few of those," Ran said, turning to the Blades.  "You fresh enough to save lives?"

"Yes, sir," Shift said.

"Always, sir," Risk assured him.

The nearly adult-sized grauori at their side nodded her head as well.  "Ya."

"Then head over to the hospital.  We have at least a dozen that won't make it until your friends get here.  First floor, intensive care.  If you need it, the password is cerulean."

"Yes, sir," they said again, both pressing their fists to their hearts before riding that way.  Raast and Rhyx followed.

Sal glanced at her men.  "Tyr, Ryek, go with them, make sure there are no problems while they get settled in.  Meia, Joevar, get their horses."

"Yes, sir!"

The four Dogs moved out only a breath after the healers, reacting with an efficiency only seen in the elites.  Around them, Conglomerate soldiers were gathering, most of them staring but doing their best to keep their voices down.  The murmurs were still audible to the iliri, a mixture of scorn and relief.

"Nice," Ran said.  "Haven't lost a thing."

"We were trained by the best, sir," Sal reminded him.

He smiled, but sadness clung to it.  "You know, when you put that crown on your head, you earned the right to stop saying 'sir' to me."

"No, I didn't.  In Anglia, 'sir' is a title of respect to military leaders, regardless of rank.  Even the leaders of the three nations prefer to use it.  I'm sorry, Ran, but you earned it a long time ago – when you formed the Lightning Brigade."

"You know how to touch an old man's heart, Kaisae."  He dipped his head in acknowledgment then was right back to business.  "So, what do you need for your men?"

"Stabling, as you know, and preferably an isolated barracks.  Anglia doesn't run like the CFC.  We've been living in tents for a few months now, so luxuries aren't important.  I have fifty humans and expect about seventy-five grauori here tonight.  Grauori will double up – or sleep on the grass if there's nothing else – and if you can get me a room per human, that will accommodate our tactical offices as well."

"So mingling in the ranks is allowed?"

"The Blades is a family, not a unit.  Same applies for the grauori.  Shields and Dogs?  Yeah.  It's hard to make a rule against it when the First Officer is sleeping with her subordinate, and the commanding officer is the brother-in-law of the King, who's the one getting laid."

Ran laughed.  "I see what you mean."  He looked up.  "Hey Pig, you letting the Dogs act like the rest of them?"

"Fuck yeah," Pig said.  "Efficiency went up three percent when we cut out the bullshit rules, too.  If humans would learn to fight like the damned iliri, you wouldn't need Anglia to come bail your asses out."

The General couldn't help but laugh.  "Trying to start a fight already?"

"It's been a long damned war," Pig said.  "We're trying to finish the fight."

"What's off limits?" Sal asked, bringing Ran's mind back to the need at hand.

"If you've got paperwork from Parliament, then nothing.  Dig site's part of the military base."

Which was exactly what she wanted to hear.  "The 97th still around?"

Ran nodded.  "For a bit longer.  Nyurin already told me they'll stay loyal until Star Fall is clean, but after that, all bets are off."

"I have a set of clusters set aside for you too, sir."

Ran shook his head.  "Rules don't apply to me, Sal."

Dom made a disagreeing noise.  "Read better, sir.  Anyone claimed as family by the Black Blades, regardless of species of origin, is iliri in the eyes of Anglia.  Parliament accepted it."

The man she called her adopted father never took his eyes from hers.  "We'll see, little one.  How's that?"

"That's all I ask.  Oh!  And you might want to warn the blues that Anglia has diplomatic immunity."

"You planning something?"

"No," she assured him, "but I know that none of my soldiers, regardless of their unit, care for the term 'scrubber.'  I'm probably the wrong person to call them off."

Ran nodded, his eyes looking over the Anglian soldiers proudly.  Suddenly, he paused.  "Sergeant Kolton?"

"Yes, sir?" Kolt replied.

"I had a message.  Lieutenant Eason from the 112th said to revert the changes and strike your record.  Is that your desire?"

"It is, sir.  I'm already sworn."

"And inked," Ran said.  "My eyes aren't that poor, Enik."

"It's Syrik," Kolt corrected.  "Syrik Kolton of the Black Blades, right hand of the Kaisae."

Ran's eyes snapped back to Sal.  "Right hand?"

"I needed a man there I could trust," she explained.  "I figure the soldier that saved my life kinda counts."

Ran slowly raised his eyes back to Kolt.  "You have some big shoes to fill, soldier."

"I'm up for the challenge, sir."

"And he's doing a damned good job," Zep said.  "Not many people I'd say that about either."

Ran nodded in understanding.  "That's pretty high praise, Zep.  I'm sorry for your loss.  All of you.  His name will be remembered."

"Aussah," Sal said, thanking him in her own language.  "His life mattered."

Before the General could reply, a pale-skinned man jogged up behind them, stopping just out of range to salute.  Sal glanced at his shoulders, finding the insignia for a Private.  Following her gaze, Ran turned and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, speak up, boy.  Anglia's probably ready to be out of the saddle."

He relaxed his arm and bobbed his head once.  "They're moving the horses, sir, and we have fifty-six stalls available.  I told them to make room for the hitch teams as well."

"Nicely done, soldier," Ran said.  "How long until Anglia can tack down?"

"If they walk on a loose rein, the barn will be ready when they arrive, sir."

Sal stepped toward the man.  "Name and rank, soldier?"

"Private Calix Sezyn, sir, Kaisae."

"Pick one and use it," Ran ordered.

The private tensed.  "I can't, sir."

"He really can't," Arctic said from his saddle.  "Officially he must address her as sir, but his nature requires that he acknowledge her position at least once in conversation."

"Speak freely," Sal told him.

This time, Calix smiled.  "Laetus, Kaisae.  It's a pleasure to serve."

"You're an honor to your pack," she told him.  "The General is a friend."

"I understand, sir.  Thank you."

Ran stared at Sal, sucking his teeth for a moment before he turned to the soldier.  "Private?  I'm reassigning you, effective immediately.  You will act as Anglia's liaison to the Conglomerate during their stay here.  Make sure that all of their needs are met and feel free to offer suggestions for improvements to my orders at any time.  Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir.  The summer barracks are open and have sufficient rooms.  Since Anglia is a northern country, the ventilation in the rooms shouldn't be disturbing to them.  Sir, I can have those prepared before the horses are settled."

"Will that do, Sal?"

"Well enough.  Some of my humans are still sensitive to the cold."

"We'll make do," Pig assured her.

"No need, sir," Calix explained.  "It's the cabins.  There's a fireplace in each room.  You'll need to care for your own, but we have more than enough wood stacked already."

"Shade?" Sal asked, turning.  "Would you be willing to start the fires?  I don't trust some of these guys to do it on their own."

"Can do, sir," Shade said, lifting her chin proudly.

"Then let's get settled," Sal ordered.  "South barn, most of you know where it is.  Blades, show the Shields.  Zep?"

"I'll make sure he's taken care of, baby," her Dernor said, reaching over for Scorch's reins.

"Kolt," Arctic broke in, "you're with the Kaisae.  I'll take your mare."

"Yes, sir," Kolt agreed.

He dismounted and passed his reins to the Raewar then moved to Sal's side.  Without a word, he fell into a comfortable parade rest as the Anglians moved out.  Ran watched the procession for a moment, then turned back to the iliri Private.

"Explain to me exactly where you came from?" His face was stern.

"I was headed back to the requisition office when I heard you order the south barn cleared.  I knew I could make it there faster than a human, sir, and did not want the Kaisae of all iliri to wait."

Ran slowly nodded.  "What's your assignment?"

"Requisition secretary for the Fourth Office."

"And why were you standing in the middle of the base?"

"Lunch, sir.  I do eat."

Ran chuckled and slapped the man's shoulder.  "How iliri is he, Sal?"

"At least three-quarters, probably a bit more.  Almost as much as Arctic."  Sal looked him over, well aware that the man kept trying to glance up at her.  "Look at me," she ordered.

He raised his eyes, meeting her white ones with his green.  She stared at him for a long moment before he simply couldn't hold her gaze any longer.

"Impressive," Kolt said.

"How impressive?" Ran asked.

Sal ignored them, offering the young man her hand.  "Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Completely," Calix said, laying his bare palm in hers.

Her eyes tracked as she watched his thoughts flash into her head.  She saw nothing but complete loyalty to his people and a desire to see the iliri stand proud in the Conglomerate.  The only thing that surprised her was his lack of desire to leave.  With a deep breath, she lowered her hand, releasing him.

"You have new tricks," Ran noticed.

"A few," she agreed.  "I'd take this one, Ran, but he has no interest in Anglia.  He's the one that'll change things here.  He's not linked, but he could be easily enough once you start using iliri units."

"What's your skill?" Ran asked, surprising the soldier.

"Minor fetching," he said, sounding confused.

"You're hired," Ran told him.  "After your assignment to Anglia is complete, report back to me.  I'll have a notice sent to the requisition office, letting them know that you'll need to be replaced."

"Sir?"

Ran lifted a hand, halting his question.  "Calix, when my adopted daughter says I can trust you, I take it seriously.  You just became my aide."

"You're..."  He looked between the General and the Kaisae.  "But..."

"I told you he was a friend," Sal said.  "Who do you think's been making the changes to improve things for us?"

"Aussah," Calix told Ran.  "Il bax genause."

The General glanced to Sal so she translated. "Thanks, it matters."

"Ah," Ran muttered.  "And you're going to have to teach me Iliran, it seems," he told the Private.

"I can do that, sir," Calix said.  "Is there anything else you need, sir?  I should make sure the barracks are ready."

"Dismissed, soldier."  Ran smiled as the man jogged away, then turned back to Sal.  "You have a way with them, don't you?"

"It's instinctual," Kolt explained.  "A pleasure to see you again, sir."

"Same here.  Thought you said you were hiding from your own people."

Kolt tipped his head to the tiny, pale woman beside him.  "I was mostly hiding from her."

"And yet here you are, guarding her back?"

"Technically, her right, sir.  It's complicated."

"Always is," Ran agreed.  "My office is right over here.  Can I buy the two of you a drink?"  Which meant he wanted to know all about those complications where no one else could hear.

"I'd be honored," Sal said, falling in beside him.

Chapter 3

THE GENERAL LED HER to a large two-story structure, holding the door politely for Sal to enter first, giving in when Kolt grabbed it for him.  The three of them said nothing until they were in his office, well aware of the many faces that looked up as they passed.  Once there, Ran closed the door carefully then headed to his desk, grabbing a bottle from the shelf as he passed.

"Mead or whiskey, Kolton?"

"Mead for now, sir.  Thank you."

"And I know what you want, Sal."

He filled three glasses and slid them across before sinking into his chair.  With a comfortable groan, the old man leaned back to rest his feet on the desk.  Kolt mimicked him, but Sal curled into hers, cradling the glass.

"You know the last time I was here?" she asked.

"Yeah.  I remember it clearly."  Ran pointed at her drink.  "If that isn't strong enough, kid, I've got harder stuff."

"I'm ok," she promised.  "Just feels strange to be back again."

Ran turned his head to Kolt.  "How'd you end up guarding her?"

"I'm a fetcher," Kolt said.

Sal gestured that away.  "Long story abbreviated, his skill lets me touch people without touching them.  That means I could kill you without raising a finger."

"Ok, and what's it like when it's just short?" Ran asked.

"Syrik's the reason I got conscripted.  He gave me the idea.  Didn't recognize him in Prin or Idiptu Gap, but he pulled my ass out of the Terran camp."

"I had help," Kolt said.

"Yeah."  Sal glanced up, meeting Ran's eyes. "Star Fall is being recruited into BWC's delta squad.  The First Officer of the Black Widows?  He's iliri, and he's mine.  That is not allied knowledge."

Kolt chuckled.  "You left out the best part, babe."

"He's the Emperor's son."

Ran dropped his feet to the floor as he sat up quickly.  "Iliri?"

Sal nodded.  "The Emperor is a crossbred.  Pretty sure he's exactly half iliri, from what I could catch in his mind.  Mother was pure, father appears to be completely human."

"Fuck," Ran hissed.  "That means he's got tricks we can't predict."

"Not anymore," Sal promised.  "That's why Blaec died.  I cleaned that bastard's mind.  He has no skills and no link, and they can't put it back in, not unless they find another Kaisae that's as strong as I am."

"Which doesn't exist," Kolt clarified.  "Makiel killed them all.  He's nothing but a real pale human now."

"Sal?" Ran asked gently.  "What happened?"

This time, when she told the story, she didn't have to force it out.  "They caught us in Syhar and kept us drugged and weak.  Blaec told me that the only way I could save him was if I hurt the Emperor enough."  A weary sigh slipped out.  "He lied, Ran.  I could see he'd had a vision, but he deceived me so I'd do it."

"Twisted the truth," Kolt corrected.

Her ears sagged on her head.  "But they killed him to make me suffer.  They cut his throat.  He didn't even die fighting for what he believed in.  They chained us out like dogs and killed him like a beast!  All he wanted was to die with pride, and those Terrans tried their hardest to take that from him."

Kolt dropped his glass on the table and reached over for her hand.  "You ok, babe?"

She squeezed his fingers, jiggling her head in a weak nod.  "It's ok, Kolt.  I'm ok."

"I'm still worried about you," he whispered.

"A few years ago," Ran said softly, breaking in, "a friend of mine asked me a really tough question."  He lifted his glass and looked at the light playing off the golden liquor.  "He wanted to know what I'd do if I had to choose between loving deeply but dying young and spending my life without anyone.  He said if I chose love, then it would never be easy and the world would try to tear us apart, but the woman of my dreams would always stand fast, loyal to the end.  If I chose to avoid the pain, my entire race would be wiped off the continent in less than five years, myself included."  He took a long drink. "I told Blaec that I didn't see why he'd ask.  The answer was clear to me.  Two years of love or five years of loneliness?  I'd take the love and never regret it.  I already tried it the other way."

Sal nodded, knowing he was talking about Blaec and her.

"Thing is, Sal."  Ran carefully placed his drink on the table.  "He did die fighting.  He used his best weapon – you – and struck where it would hurt the worst.  Don't take that from him.  He proved that not even a chain can stop the iliri."  Then he turned to Kolt and took a slow drink.  "And you need to stop bullshitting me, boy.  How the hell did you end up in her bed?"

At the scent of Kolt's shock, Sal laughed and patted his arm.  "There's a reason he's the commanding officer of the elite units."

Kolt tilted his head and met Ran's eyes, never once showing anything but calm on the outside.  "I didn't.  We had a long run back from the Emperor's camp to her mates.  May have been a little bloodlust in there, but I assure you, that's a far cry from her bed.  Now, you want to top this up?"

"Sure," Ran said, offering the bottle of whiskey this time.  "And I'm not real worried about you screwing my little girl – because if she didn't want you to, she'd have killed you already.  Sal isn't the same soldier she was when she joined the military.  What's your title?"

"Brother," Kolt told him.  "Like I said, I'm not in her bed, just took care of my Kaisae on the way back to Issevi."

Ran blinked his eyes over to Sal.  "What do your boys think about this?"

"They approve."  She shrugged.  "It's complicated."

The General looked between them, his eyes catching every nuance of their expression.  For a moment, he said nothing, waiting for one of them to break.  When that didn't happen, he licked his lips slowly and leaned his elbow on the desk.

"I'm missing something, but I'm not sure what question I'm supposed to ask to get it."

"You're not," Kolt said.  "The answers you're wanting are the ones she doesn't have.  These things take time."

"Ah."  Ran leaned back.  "So that's what it is.  I understand.  So tell me something, boy?  You gonna treat my little girl good?"

"Yes," Kolt replied without hesitation.  "She's the Kaisae of all Iliri.  I'll give my life to protect her."

"And how do you think you fit in?" Ran pressed.

"I amuse her," Kolt explained.  "I know my place."

"Sal?"  The General turned to her.

"He's nice," she said.  "So stop pushing."

Kolt took the chance to ask his own question.  "You gonna tell me why you watched over her for so long before she was even a Black Blade?"

"You think you deserve to know?" Ran countered.

"Nah."  Kolt tilted his head toward Sal.  "I think she does."

"I see.  Looks like that tattoo strengthened your spine a little."  Then he looked at the little woman curled before him.  "You know when they conscript iliri, most don't come willingly.  They fight, and they fight like beasts."

"We are beasts," Sal reminded him.

"Bullshit.  You're just a very strong people.  Thing is, when they brought you in?  Wrists bound before you, sitting in the back of a wagon with your head held high.  They hauled you out and you moved like a queen."  He jerked his thumb at the courtyard right outside the window behind him.  "You took everything in, filing it away in your mind, but you were completely civilized.  You thanked the man for helping you down even though he was dragging you around like a dog, and you never made a move to resist."

"Does that make me better or worse than the others?"

Ran chuckled.  "More dangerous, Sal.  I could see that you had a plan and not a damned thing would stop you.  I respected that.  That's why you ended up in an office and not on the front lines."

"I would have preferred the front lines."

"You would have died on the front lines.  They give your kind a bow but no training and send you out to catch arrows.  You weren't that good, kid.  Not back then.  So when I saw you settling in, I kept an eye on you, wondering when all hell would break loose.  Waiting for the rebellion, you might say."

Her ears dropped enough to notice.  "So you watched me because you didn't trust me?"

"I watched you because you were different and I'm not stupid about your kind.  I learned it firsthand."  Ran glanced away, a sad smile on the corner of his lip.  "Back when I was making a name for myself as a hotshot soldier leading Lightning Brigade, I met a girl.  Pretty sure I told you that."

She nodded, remembering.  "Yeah.  You took too long, thinking she loved your fame, but she'd truly loved you but couldn't wait forever."

He took a long drink of his whiskey, sucking a breath between his teeth before setting the glass back down.  "That she waited at all says so much.  Sal, she was pure iliri.  Yna was as pale as fresh snow and as strong as steel.  I got a letter from her and tried to track her down.  Took two days, but I did."  He winced and reached up to wipe at an eye, blinking quickly.

"Thought you never saw her again?" Sal asked.

"They'd already buried her by the time I got there.  Cut her throat so deep they damned near cut off her head, the coroner said."  He pressed his lips together and Kolt grabbed the bottle, topping up Ran's drink.  "See, she was so much like you.  Ever since I first saw you, I kept thinking that you could've been her daughter.  She didn't react irrationally.  She always planned it out.  She fought like a beast – and grounded me every time."

"She was a soldier?" Sal asked.

Ran shook his head.  "Unavi Rebel.  That's how Blaec knew they were real.  I told him."

"Fuck me," Kolt breathed.  "You lost her in the culling?"

"No, this was long before that.  About twenty-five years ago."

"Before the war?" Sal asked.

"That damned war's been brewing for a lot longer than we admit.  Back before it was called a war, it was merely diplomatic aggression.  The Unavi Rebels were the state militia.  The Unavi Pride."

"I turned them loose," Sal said.  "They're clearing the passes through the Siahies."

"They listen to you?"

Kolt chuckled.  "Your new aide listens to her.  We can't help it, Ran.  That's what a Kaisae is."

"A puppet master," Sal said.  "Something about me makes the iliri obey."

"It isn't that strong," Kolt assured her.  "It's compelling, but it isn't all powerful.  That's why the Emperor could resist you.  That, and if we don't believe in you, then you lose power over us.  The Kaisae of all iliri used to be chosen by the number of iliri who believed in her like a subconscious vote.  She's like a catalyst for what we already have."

"Which is why I feel this need to serve my people," Sal said, understanding.  "It doesn't matter about the borders, it matters about the people."

"Grauori don't do borders," Ran said.  "I'm guessing, but they don't seem like landmarks really matter too much to them."

"Right," Sal agreed, "and they move too fast to stop."

"So they'll be here around sundown?" Ran brought their talk full circle by asking about the incoming healers.

"That's the plan."  She closed her eyes and nodded slowly.  "Looks like they're on track.  I have one hundred coming.  Fifty here, fifty to Eastward, plus Nya and her pack which is another twenty-five mutts of various skills.  We're planning to clean up the injured here and send them to the front lines."

Ran leaned over, looking at a paper on his desk.  "How soon will I be able to send these guys back up?"

"Two days, give or take.  Most should be fine thirty minutes after healing, but with the long wait before we got to them, they may need a couple of days to rest up."  She shrugged.  "The mental wounds are the hardest.  We can't always fix those, but Raast is trying to change that."

Ran grabbed a book and flipped it open.  "So what's the battle plan?  I'm assuming you came here to meet with the Generals?"

"I did.  I need a few units of CFC soldiers, preferably mounted."  She looked up.

"Map?" Kolt asked.

Ran gestured to the wall.  "Panel slides back.  You have clearance for our strategy, Sal?"

She smiled.  "Yes.  Parliament figured out that they can't keep shit from me, so they made it legal.  That way none of you will be punished for what I happen to know."

A smile flickered over his mouth.  "And how'd you manage that?"

Sal lifted her glass.  "I made my point very clear.  May have stolen a few national secrets, caused an iliri rebellion in Prin, and made about forty humans take a nap in the middle of the Parliamentary audience hall, but they got the message.  Not my fault the Blue Party ended up losing their leader for it."

"That's my girl," Ran almost purred.

Chapter 4

THE GENERAL'S QUESTIONS reminded Sal that she'd forgotten one thing.  Not that she needed it, but the Conglomerate still had rather strict protocols, and she had no intention of getting Ran in trouble.  He'd help her with or without orders, but she needed to make sure Military Command had nothing to complain about.  She'd learned the hard way that humans couldn't be trusted in this country.

Flicking her eyes over to Kolt, Sal asked, "Can you get the orders from my packs?"

He paused, staring at the ground for a moment, then his hand twitched, catching an envelope as it appeared right out of thin air.  With a smug look, he handed it over.  "Kaisae."

She accepted it, then passed the envelope across to Ran.  He didn't seem shocked that it had appeared like magic.  The old man just cracked the seal and started reading.  One of his eyebrows climbed higher, but the General said nothing.

While they waited, Kolt made his way to the wall where the map was kept, explaining, "Sal isn't the same soldier who defected back in Myrosica, General.  She reads minds now.  Usually by touch, but with a little work, she can do it through scent.  I'm a fetcher.  Between the two of us, she can basically do anything she wants, and Parliament figured that out pretty fast."  With a gentle push, the wood panel slid back to reveal a large map of the Conglomerate and Escea.  "She made sure the alliance agreement worked in her favor."

Ran didn't seem to notice.  "This says I'm to organize the Conglomerate resources to be used at your disposal?"

"Yes.  This is my war, Ran.  I make the calls.  That's why I wanted you as my Conglomerate Advisor, because you won't resent that.  I promise my intention is to bring the CFC through this in one piece, and you're the only person with enough rank to make it possible who'll believe me.  They gave you the right to veto my decisions."

"Pretty sure we won't need that.  So what are we doing?"

Sal looked over the lines on the map, reading the entire plan easily.  Biting her lip, her ears swiveled as she thought, then slowly she shook her head.  "This is all you have?"

Ran nodded.  "And you wonder why they started begging?"

"You're so fucked."  Using her hand, she drew a line down the eastern side of the Siahies.  "Makiel has thirty-seven thousand men covering this."  Her hand moved to the Hurracan River.  "He's got another dozen somewhere around here."  She tapped the foothills near the ocean.  "And this is the weakness.  He's sure the CFC can't get down here to push him back without breaking further north."

"We can't."

"But I can.  I'll bring the maargra down the western foothills to hold the ridges, use the elites to clean up Merriton – "

"Merriton's breached?" Ran gasped.

Sal turned to him slyly.  "It's only a rumor, but I have a funny feeling it's true.  I plan to fix that."

"It's personal," Kolt said.

The General relaxed back into his chair.  "Civilian casualties?"

"One."  She turned back to him.  "I'm going to make the bastard who owned me pay for what he did, and you can't stop me.  I don't care about any agreements on this, either."

He propped his chin on his fist and smiled.  "I'd hold him for you, kid, if I didn't think Kolton would beat me to it."

"Or Jase, or Zep," Kolt said.  "Or any of our brothers."

Ran nodded.  "One problem.  The Generals won't like being left out."

"They'll get used to it," she promised.  "Get me a meeting and I'll make sure they understand their place."

"When?" Ran asked.  "I don't want to wear you out after riding here from Prin, but sooner is better."

Sal nodded in agreement.  "Tonight, after the most critical soldiers are healed.  I don't want to give them enough time to make counterplans.  We'll start in the hospital and head back to the War Room."

"I can do that."  But he sounded slightly distracted.  "When are you planning to eat?"

Sal let out a sigh.  "Later.  There's too much to do right now."

Kolt added, "And being snappish only makes her more intimidating."

"Not sure these men know how to be intimidated, just irritated."  He looked between the two iliri.  "I know Anglia has its own rules, but they won't respect you unless they can understand how you operate.  You know that, right?"

"I do," Sal assured him.  "I've also done this before.  May have been a different country I was making the impression on, but I think it worked out well."

She meant Anglia, back when she'd been sent there to infiltrate the King's confidence.  She had – a little too well.  Rather than simply signing an alliance like the Conglomerate wanted, he'd offered the iliri a new home and found a way to share his land with the two other species living on it.  Granted, the CFC military wouldn't be as open minded as Dominik Jens had been, but her success proved that she knew how to play the system.  The General bobbed his head as he thought about that.

"Who's standing with you?" Ran asked.  "They won't take too kindly to Kolton, Sal.  He was ours a few weeks ago."

"Ilija."

Kolt chuckled.  "Nice choice, babe.  Like a little salt in their wounds."

"They should've listened.  Maybe this time they will."  She turned back to Ran.  "Maybe this time, when you ask to start a unit of iliri elites, they'll approve it."

"Calix?" Kolt asked.

Sal nodded, running through the flashes of thoughts she'd caught from her sadava when he hugged her earlier.  "That's why he got grilled.  He showed initiative and didn't even flinch before the top ranking soldier in the base.  Ran's been thinking about it, but that boy has everything he wanted."  She turned back to the map.  "I can work with this, but I'm gonna need a few of your best men.  I don't care if they love iliri or hate us, but they'd damned well better be able to follow orders."

"How many?" Ran asked, refusing to deny her comments about the iliri unit.

"At least fifty.  Might be more, depending on what they can do."  She paused, her eyes running across the map.  "I won't be able to finalize a strategy until I know what I have to work with, but three good units should be enough."

"Good how?"

Sal looked back, her eyes meeting his without flinching.  "Anglia good.  This is going to have to be hard and fast, and I need units who are solid.  Once we reach the ocean, we're going to have to push up quickly, before they can move the line to block us, and that means I'll need the best soldiers you can spare.  As soon as we hit Merriton, the race is on."

Ran huffed out his breath.  "Sal, the elites have been decimated.  All I have is the 112th."

"And they're on Eastward."  She shook her head.  "I need them there.  Blaz is coordinating with the grauori to break the siege and keep Terric distracted."

"Not Rais?"

Kolt answered, "Rais controls the unit.  She gave Blaz rank with the grauori.  He's handling the combined attack.  Trust me, they know what they're doing."  He looked over to Sal.  "And if they don't, they can simply ask her now."

Ran dropped his voice and he leaned closer.  "Linked?"

"Does make it easier," she explained.  "Azure, too.  But ignore their mutt.  Both have a brerror, and he won't claim citizenship anywhere.  Think of them as floating assets on loan by Rragri."

"Ok."  Ran clearly didn't know how to take that so he pointed back to the map.  "Which means you've assigned the only elites I have.  Who's helping with this, then?"

"The best soldiers in Fort Landing.  Like I said, I'm going to need a few units, and I'm trusting you to give me the best.  I'm going to need men who can move fast, keep their unit alive, and think on their feet because we won't be able to babysit them."

"And they won't be linked," Kolt clarified.  "She's not about to start handing that out to humans like candy unless they've earned it."

"Especially not when I'm leaving them here," Sal said.  "No offense, but our alliance is rather tentative, and I have no interest in arming my enemies.  The other changes I'm going to make will be bad enough."

"Other changes?"

She nodded slowly.  "I'm going to teach the CFC to use their best asset – us.  Once we find the forward strike units I'll need, we'll start rearranging soldiers the same way I did in Anglia.  I'm going to arm your iliri, Ran."

He huffed out a breath and pressed a hand over his mouth.  "Ok.  I'll pick up the records for every soldier in this base and start organizing them by race.  I can't think of any other way you'll be able to know who's who.  There's too many men stationed here."

"I have my ways," she promised.  "But first we need to find those three units, and a newly built one is probably not going to work."

"Ok, so how do you want to pick?  I'm assuming some kind of test."  Ran shuffled through a few pages on his desk.  "Put them up against the Shields, unit by unit, and see if they can do what you need?  Right now, I'm not sure I have anyone capable of doing what Anglia can."

"We'll put them against all of our elites, including the grauori," she decided.  "Need to see what they do with unconventional tactics and how fast they can think on their feet.  We'll be moving hard and fast to make this work.  I don't need to babysit a group of soldiers that can't hear my orders."

Ran nodded.  "I'll arrange it.  Can't say Command will like it, but I'll make sure you get a test.  Might take a couple of days to get everything ready.  That work?"

"Perfect.  And while we're getting that in place, we can start making plans for the rest of the military's new structure."  She glanced back at the map.  "None of this is going to happen fast.  You already taught me that, so I should probably check on the wounded and see if I can help.  We're going to need a lot more sound bodies."

Ran's mouth flopped open.  "You heal too?"

"Yeah," Kolt said.  "She's one bad-ass bitch."

"Yes, she is," Ran agreed, moving to stand before her.  "Kaisae, Anglia has free rein of the compound, but remember that iliri still aren't loved here, ok?  There's been complaints of anti-iliri extremists and dissent in the ranks."

"I'm not exactly shocked," she assured him.  "I can smell the hate in the air here.  My brothers won't let me be anywhere alone because of it.  It may be a Shield or a Dog with me, but I've always got someone at my back.  I promise.  We took all of that into consideration."

"We can't afford to lose her," Kolt said softly.

Ran nodded and wrapped her in a gentle hug.  "No, we can't.  You've done pretty good, Sal.  Better than I could've hoped.  You make an old man real proud."

"Hey," she whispered, hugging him back.  "I haven't said it before, but everything you've done?  It does matter, Ran."

"So do you, baby girl.  You give me a reason to keep going."  He kissed the top of her head like a father should.  "Now go be the warrior queen and show these grunts why Anglia's winning."

"Yes, sir," Sal agreed.  "I'll be in the hospital when the Generals can be persuaded to talk."

She turned to leave and Ran clicked his heels together to salute properly.  "Enjoy your stay, sir," he said.

Kolt and Sal both pressed their fists to their chest in the Anglian style, then left.  She could hear Ran reclining in his chair as she entered the hall, and sighed.  "This is going to get ugly, Syrik, you know that, right?"

Nonchalantly, he looked over to meet her eyes.  "Expected nothing less."

"But that kinda made it better.  Things are finally changing, even here, and they can't stop us now."

"They can't stop you."  He grabbed the door, holding it open to let her exit the building.  "Just remember that you don't submit to them anymore.  You lead us because you're the best, babe.  Not because you look fucking amazing in those tight pants."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.  "Trying to say something?"

"Usually."  He fell in on her right, resting his hand on the small of her back.  "Besides, your dava didn't tell me to get lost.  Hospital?"

She made no effort to shake off the touch.  "Sure.  Gotta make sure they aren't giving my guys a hard time.  I guess it's safe to assume you're coming with?"

"Oh yeah.  Pretty sure I passed the final challenge, so there's no way you're getting rid of me now.  Lead on, Kaisae."

Chapter 5

SIDE BY SIDE, Kolt and Sal headed south, walking proudly through the streets of Fort Landing.  Long ago, she'd made this same trip every day.  Three years she'd lived here, learning how to keep her head down so no one would notice her white skin or strange ears.  Now, she didn't have to.  With Kolt at her side, she didn't even need to worry about watching her back.

But Fort Landing hadn't changed much.  The roads were still made of worn cobblestones or packed clay.  The buildings were a mixture of wood and plaster.  The decor was always in blues and golds, proving this entire town was owned and operated by the military.  The only change was that now, the soldiers glaring at her were all in the exact same color as everything else.  There were too few elites left to make any contrast in the passing uniforms.

And people still hated her – like she'd said, the scent of it was easy enough to detect.  Soldiers paused, looking up as they passed, and a murmur of whispers rushed in her wake.  Sal heard it but refused to listen, assuming that most of what was said wouldn't be flattering.  For too long, humans had believed the iliri were little more than their pets.  These people hadn't yet realized that the rules had already started to change.  The pair hadn't made it far before a group of men in grey jogged toward them, the smiles on their faces assuring her that nothing bad had happened yet.

"Sal!" one yelled and she recognized Tyr.  "The Raewar said you were heading to the hospital.  He sent us to be an escort."

She shot a glance at Kolt – who shrugged, proving he'd been the one to update Arctic.  "Heading there now," she called back.

Tyr, Ryek, and Joevar fell in beside them.  Sal reached over to side-hug Joevar, the closest, and he draped his arm casually over her shoulder.  Tyr popped Kolt in the bicep with a gentle punch and Ryek moved silently to stand behind them, his eyes twitching a bit too much.

"And that," Kolt said, tilting his head to the overly wary human, "is why I was such a shit assassin."

Tyr pursed his lips and looked over the newest Black Blade.  "That, and you're too damned big for it.  You're a heavy armsman, through and through."

"That's what Zep said.  I do fine with shields, but these short swords he's making me learn?"  Kolt groaned.  "I feel like an Ace with toothpicks.  Starting to really like the reach of a full sized weapon."

The sound of steel sliding on leather made both Sal and Kolt spin, blades in their hands as fast as a thought.  Ryek laughed.  Lifting his dagger –the exact match to Sal's – he made a point of carefully cleaning under the nails of one hand.  The expression on his face was supposed to look innocent, but he was failing.

"That's why they made you an assassin," he told Kolt as he sheathed the dagger again.  "You can almost move as fast as her."

"Not by a long shot," Kolt assured him, putting his weapons away.

"From where I'm standing, you do.  Or at least you're trying to."

Tyr lifted a brow.  "Speaking of moving fast, so is it true that she bites?  You like it?"

"You're an ass," Joevar said.

Sal laughed as she sheathed her daggers.  "Tyr's always been an ass.  You haven't figured that out yet?"  Joevar rolled his eyes as an answer.

"I kinda am, huh?" Tyr teased.  "So does this mean you'll give me a chance one day, Sal?  I mean, he's like half human, so what's a bit more?"

Grinning, Sal turned, walking backwards right in front of him.  "You really want to see what it's like to be with an iliri?"

Tyr moved closer, reaching for her waist, but neither stopped.  They had places to be.  Granted, there was no reason they couldn't have fun getting there, and from the flirtatious look on Tyr's face, he was just starting to warm up.

"Oh fuck yeah."  He tugged himself closer, a devious little smile starting to take over.  "I've heard some amazing stories, Sal.  Guy has to dream a little, ya know."

She leaned forward, her eyes on his as if she was going to kiss him but, before their mouths met, Tyr tugged, spinning her in his arms so her back was against his chest.  She gasped and tried to get free, but he lifted her feet from the ground like she was a child.  Around them, the men laughed, offering to help neither one.

"I learned my lesson the first time," Tyr said.  "Cry umso!"

"Never," Sal laughed.

"That means you want it," Tyr teased, lifting her higher.  "You know you're stuck now.  Umso or I tickle you."

"Don't!" Sal gasped.

"Umso," Tyr said again.  "You can't even get to my skin, and no cheating, Sal."

She shifted, pulling higher in his arms, and shoved herself at his face, kissing him chastely on the cheek.  "That's as close as you'll get to umso from me."

He laughed and set her down.  "Close enough.  Damn, you're fucking heavy."

She flicked her ears at him and cocked her head to the side.  "Seriously?"

"Well, for as little as you are, yeah.  No wonder you hit like a ton of bricks."  He glanced over at Kolt.  "I'll let you keep tryin', but you break her heart, and I'll gut you myself."

Kolt shook his head and chuckled, proving he wasn't impressed.  "That's like the big brother warning or something?"

"Something like that," Tyr agreed.  "He really take care of you, Sal?"

"Has for years," she told the three Devil Dogs.  "This has nothing to do with Blaec."

"No offense, babe, but fuck Blaec," Tyr said.  "Dead is dead, ya know?  You iliri taught us that, and while I liked the guy, he's still gone.  I'm just making sure some new guy doesn't think he's gonna hurt my girl."

"Oh?  Your girl?"  Sal shoved her shoulder against him playfully.

"Yep.  The girl that rules my entire damned countr – "

A loud voice cut him off.  "Go home, scrubbers!"

"Oh, you did not just do that," Tyr grumbled, turning to the sound.

A cluster of men in blue stood outside one of the smaller training yards.  Seven of them glared at the passing Anglians, making no move to hide the weapons strapped to their bodies or the disgust they felt.  A few others looked up at the disturbance.  For Sal, this was nothing new.  This was how she'd always been treated.

"What the fuck are you gonna do?" the apparent leader demanded, spreading his arms in a taunt.

Being human, the intensity of such irrational hate was a new experience for most of the guys.  It only made the Devil Dogs despise it more.  That they'd been trusted to protect the Kaisae?  All three of Sal's human friends puffed up immediately.  It was Joevar who lost his temper first.  Without saying a word, he stormed into the middle of the Conglomerate soldiers, chest to chest with the man, and leaned into his face.

"You talk shit about my brothers again, and I'll skin you alive," he spat.  "You fucks don't get the right to bitch, not when we're gonna save your asses."

The soldier refused to back down, taking a step forward to try and bump Joevar back.  "Yeah?  There's nine of us and five of you.  Bring it."

"Oh, you fucking did not just do that," Tyr said, shaking his head.  "Sal?"

"Diplomatic immunity," she reminded them.  "But keep in mind that we need a few fuck-ups to throw at the Terrans, and I'm tired of it always being my people used to soak up the first volley."

Metal whispered against leather again, and Ryek flipped a blade into his hand.  "You wanna dance, Ace?"

From the back of the human group a deep chuckle sounded.  "Oh, I'll take you on little man."

First problem with humans, Kolt warned their units, making it public so everyone could hear. Nine blues.  We're fine.

Understood, Arctic replied.

Fuck their shit up? Pig suggested.

That's the plan, Tyr thought back.  These monkeys need to remember why the Dogs were the second best unit in this country.

That was all the excuse Sal needed.  She stepped forward and crooked a finger at the group.  "You boys think you're good enough to take us?  Show me what you've got."

"Your King's going to be so pissed," another one said, pulling a pair of short swords.

Sal shook her head.  "You don't know shit about Anglia."  Then she raised her voice to her soldiers.  "I want these men down, not dead.  Nothing more than lacerations.  Do not break any bones.  Conscious is preferred but not necessary."

"Yes, sir!" the Anglians replied in unison.

Sal pulled the daggers from their place on her back and pinned her ears to her head.  "Lay on, you dumb shits."

Joevar slammed his head forward, crashing into the man's nose, and swept his legs out from under him.  As soon as the soldier was on the ground, the Anglian buried his foot in the guy's groin, following with a kick to the diaphragm.  Ryek moved quickly, ducking under the one beside him and twisting around another to meet his target.  With the handle of his dagger, he rapped him in the temple as he kneed him in the kidneys.  The large man dropped with a muffled cry.  Kolt and Sal moved together, blocking a swing from hitting Joevar while she pulled all of their minds together.

Their awareness blended, making the elites even more effective.  Kolt and Sal took out the four men who still seemed unsure, hitting nerves hard enough to weaken limbs or knocking the wind from their lungs.  Tyr slapped his wrists against another's ears, ruining his sense of balance.  With a hard shove, he knocked the guy over before heaving his foot deep into the idiot's diaphragm.  Joevar and Ryek took the last two, leaving Tyr looking for another target.

"Seriously?" he asked.  "I don't get a second?"

"Nine," Kolt reminded him, grinning.  "That means there weren't enough to go around."

"Yeah, but I shoulda gotten two!" Tyr grumbled.  "Joe's the one who – "

"Is faster?" Joevar asked, cutting him off.  "Suck it up, bro."

The men in blue lay on the ground rolling.  None had been cut, and no bones were broken, but they were unable to regain their feet.  The Anglians weren't even breathing hard, and the smiles hadn't left their faces.  To them, this had been little more than warm-up.  When the leader of the group tried to pull himself up, wiping at his bloody nose, Sal put her foot in his chest.  That was all it took to ease him back to the ground.

"Stay there," she warned, leaning over him, her white hair falling across her shoulder.  "See, there's one thing you need to learn about the military in Anglia.  We don't lose."

"You also don't obey orders real well, bitch," the man snapped, blood spraying as he spoke.

She chuckled.  "You're an idiot.  Of course, I don't obey orders.  I give them."  She gestured to the men beside her.  "These are my soldiers, and they do exactly what I say.  I'm the Kaisae of Anglia, First Officer of the Black Blades, leader of the combined Anglian forces, and about to be your new boss."  She lifted her lip and growled.  "So don't start shit with me.  Your rules have changed, Ace."

"I'll carve you up and give you to her on a platter," Tyr said, "and there ain't shit that the CFC can do about it.  She ain't your fuckin' bitch.  She's ours, and we're damned proud to claim her."

"Go home.  We don't want you," another man gasped, pulling himself up.  His entire body winced when he shifted his weight.  "Damn it, you broke my fucking leg!"

"It's not broke," Kolt grumbled.

Sal ignored his whining.  "We're here to win," she told them, gesturing to her unharmed companions.  "The CFC has screwed up their part of the fight bad enough that we're the only option you have left.  Now, we'd rather fight Terric, but if you want to step up, I'll take it over and over again.  One of my greens could've dropped you.  I hope the entire army isn't this pathetic.  Get your shit together or learn to kneel to the Emperor.  I'm not here to babysit your ass, just to kick the crap out of the enemy taking over your eastern border."

The first man looked around Sal and grinned.  "Yeah, well let's see how tough you are when talking to them.  Was nice knowin' ya, scrubber."

When she looked back, she saw a group of officers marching toward her.  From the look on their faces, they had no clue what was going on.  Evidently, news from Prin didn't move as fast as the Anglian party.  If she had to guess, they hadn't received their orders yet.

Even worse, the man at the front wasn't any normal officer.  He was a General, and one she knew a little too well.  Arctic, she thought, might want to send some backup.  I may have picked a bigger fight than I thought.

The voice that replied wasn't the one she'd expected.  This one's on me, Sal, Rayna told her.  For the first time in my life, I get to be the big sister, and you're going to deal with it.

Sure.  Just get over here kinda fast or things are going to get ugly.

Chapter 6

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Wearing an overly starched uniform, the General walked up, three polished resin clusters glistening from his collar.  The last time Sal had seen him was in the Forward Camp after her first mission.  Back then, he'd made it clear exactly what he thought about her species.  "On your feet, soldiers!"

She turned to face him.  "They can't.  I ordered them dropped.  They've been dropped.  Now, if you give me a second, I'd be happy to fix that."

"You salute me when I speak, scrubber."

"Name and rank!" Kolt demanded, moving before Sal like a proper guard.

"You know who the hell I am, Kolton, you traitor."  He turned to Sal.  "You and Blaec Doll's little whore."

That was too much.  With a growl, she grabbed Kolt's mind, breathing deeply to taste the scents of everyone around her.  That allowed her to freeze the General in place.  The only thing that kept her from breaking this human's fragile body was the fear that flashed through one of the men in her link.  She thought it was Ryek.  Letting out a snarl, she turned back to the soldiers on the ground.  With nothing more than a glance, she healed them, repairing the bruises and bumps in the space of a few heartbeats.  One rolled to his side and heaved, the vertigo hitting him hard.

"Sal," Tyr said calmly.  "Let Kolt go."

She ignored him as she glared at the General.  "Albin," she growled, "I am no man's whore, and you will respect the memory of the Kaisor.  Do you understand me?"

"Sal?" Tyr said again.  Grabbing her shoulder, he tugged, forcing her to face Kolt.  "Let him go."

Her brother stood with his feet shoulder width apart, his hands clasped behind his back, just like a perfect soldier.  Only his closed eyes and the blood trickling from his nose ruined the impression.  The man who guarded her right still refused to even flinch from the pain she was causing in his head.

She gasped, releasing Kolt's mind immediately, and moved to his side.  "I'm so sorry!  Are you ok?"

He smiled weakly but refused to open his eyes.  "Always, babe.  No one calls the Kaisae of Anglia a whore."

She palmed the side of his face, forgetting about everything else as she tried to fix the damage she'd done.  Kolt clasped her wrist, easing her hand away as he opened his eyes.

"I didn't mean to," she breathed.

"This is my job," he assured her, meeting her eyes so easily.

"What did you do to him?" The General asked, staring at Kolt.  He no longer sounded as brave as he had before.

Kolt glanced over her shoulder then pushed around her, keeping his body between the human and his Kaisae almost instinctually.  "You released him?"

Sal ignored the General.  "When I let go of you, yeah.  You're bleeding."  She used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe at his face.

Kolt caught her arm, halting the attention.  "Next time, don't do that."  The look he gave her was pointed.  "It's easier each time, Kaisae, and a small price to pay."

"My brothers are never a small price."

"I asked," the General said again, this time pushing closer, "what you did to him."

Sal let her eyes close and sucked in a deep breath.  "Don't you dare touch me, human."

"I will do whatever I damned well please.  I don't care what country you claim now, soldier.  You're inside the Conglomerate of Free Citizens, and here we have rules.  You will obey them, or you will be punished like every other iliri that gets out of line.  Do I make myself clear?"

Thankfully, a very familiar voice spoke up before Sal had the chance to reply.  "What the fuck!" the woman's voice was pitched to carry.  When Sal looked, she saw two people in white: a man and a woman.  In the afternoon sun, it was hard to miss the crown on the King's head, but he wasn't the one stopping the show.  That was Rayna – using her parade voice.

"Sire!" General Albin called back.  "I believe we have a problem with our soldiers."

Dom ignored the man, hurrying to Sal's side.  "You good?"

"Moody, but good," she assured him.  "You wanna clean this up for me?"

"Half an hour and you're already picking a fight?  Think that's a record, Sal."

She shrugged.  "What can I say?  Anglia's spoiled me."

"I'll handle it," Rayna promised.  "Give me a burning?"

Sal nodded and passed a tightly packaged memory into her friend's mind.  "Send Joevar and Ryek to Ran, notify him of the incident.  He's already been given his orders.  I'm taking Tyr for my left."

"Fuck yeah," Tyr muttered.  "Kolt?  You good, bro?"

"Yeah, man.  Ready for a second round."

"Don't push it," Dom ordered, chuckling.  "How long until the maargra are here, Sal?"

She checked her mind, locating them through the feel of the link and her borrowed sense of direction.  It wasn't perfect, but it was close enough.  "Grauori healers will be here near sundown.  I'll need someone to make sure their lodging is adequate.  Can you organize that for me?"

"Can do," Dom promised.

"Already sent the rest to the front line?" Rayna asked.

"Yeah.  Eastward.  Things are getting tense over there.  How's the barracks?"

"Suitable," Rayna said with a knowing smile.  "Zep made some adjustments.  Jase's rooms will be the strategy office.  Kolt's on the other side of your mates.  Had a small incident with Shade but Audgan handled it."  Rayna smiled for a split second before she got control of her face again.

Ghost? Sal asked, taking the conversation to their minds.

Yep.  Arctic made it his full-time duty to protect her – or her to protect him.  I'm not sure which.  Your boys are calling them the dream team.

Have been for a while.  Sal giggled once before she could stop herself.  "Ok.  Where are you two headed?"

Behind them, the General shifted, clearly not pleased about being ignored for so long.  Sal was pretty sure Dom saw, and she knew Rayna did.  Not a single one of them even flicked an eye at the man, making it clear they all outranked him by their attitudes.

"Lunch," Dom said.  "You are needed at the hospital.  Something about giving Shift and Risk a boost?"

"Yeah.  It's a new trick I picked up in Prin.  Remind me, and I'll show you later.  For now, would you straighten shit up with this human?  He seems to think I'm a whore."  Sal tilted her head and smiled.  "I think it's a common mistake."

"You bite him?" Dom teased.

"Nah.  I only bite people I like."  She patted the King's arm.

Kolt chuckled.  "Hospital, Kaisae.  I have enough left to boost."

"I'm up for it, too," Tyr agreed, gesturing for Sal to proceed him.  "I'm fresh, at any rate, and sounds like that's what you need, right?"

"Right."  With one last glance at the King, Sal turned and continued on her way.  Behind her, she could hear stern voices and knew that both the Conglomerate soldiers and their General were getting a very thorough tongue lashing from the King of the Anglian humans.

The rest of their walk was almost peaceful.  People turned and stared making Sal feel slightly self-conscious, but no one else spoke against them.  She checked her companions, both of them looking like typical soldiers to her eyes, then glanced down at herself.  She wasn't the only small person in the military, and she was too far away for her ears to be easily seen, so it had to be the perfectly white color of her skin.  That was the only thing she could think of to make so many people stop and gawk at them.

"It's the black," Tyr said, proving he'd been watching.  "Hasn't been seen here in a while."

"Thought Dark Hart wore black?"

Kolt shook his head.  "Not anymore.  They use a pattern of greys and browns now.  When the Blades were disbanded, the elites all stopped using it as a show of support.  Well, or protest, depending on which angle you're looking at it."

Sal looked between her friends.  "Really?"

"Yeah," Tyr said.  "Black Blades had it first.  Blaec chose black and black as his unit's colors.  Dark Hart was Black and navy, but they changed it officially to charcoal and chocolate.  Shadow Team shifted theirs, too.  No one wears black now, 'cept the Blades."

"Which is why they're staring," Kolt said.  "That, and the fact that you're a midget."

"She is kinda short," Tyr agreed.  "I have a sword that's taller than you, Sal."

"Oh shut it," she laughed.  "Pig's not much taller than me!"

"Honestly, though..."  Kolt casually looked at the people around them.  "I used to be on that side, looking in awe at how easygoing the Blades seemed to be.  Elites who can kill six men for each one of them, and they always acted like there was no weight on their shoulders.  Not a single one of you let the horrors of war drag you down."

"Because we always had our pack," she said softly.  "No matter where we go, so long as we're together, we're always home."

"Fucking iliri," Tyr muttered.  "Makes sense now, but I know what he means.  I remember seeing the Blades when I was a new recruit.  LT and his old First Officer, what was his name, Sal?"

"Circus.  That's who I replaced."

"Yeah, him.  Lean, lanky fucker.  The two of them prowled.  They didn't walk anywhere.  And if you saw them on a horse?"  Tyr whistled in amazement.  "Always coordinated, moving like one, and they never seemed to notice us peons staring, wishing we were them.  There was this look about them.  It was hard, like nothing could touch them, and so intimidating.  Powerful.  The kinda thing soldiers always imagine when we sign up, ya know?"

"You wanted to be a Blade?" she asked.

"Fuck yeah.  Everyone wanted to be a Black Blade.  Always thought Pig was nuts to've taken the promotion."  Tyr chuckled.  "Now I know why.  You know they told him?"

Sal nodded.  "Yeah.  Blaec gave Pig the choice.  Never rise above Sergeant and stay with the Blades, or build a sister unit of humans.  He offered the same to Zep."

Tyr dropped his arm across her shoulders and tugged her closer.  "Zep's the smart one.  I would have stayed, too.  I am glad that shit worked out, ya know?  Not just with you and Blaec, but with Zep.  Guy deserves to have a girl like you."

She pressed her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arm around Tyr's back.  "You're in grey but you're still a brother, Tyr, even if you do give me shit."

He shot a look over to Kolt.  "Just a little jealous, Sal.  I know better, but doesn't mean I wouldn't take the risk."  He chuckled.  "Not after the noises I heard coming from Zep's room in Myrosica!"  He glanced at Kolt again.  "You seriously aren't going to say anything, bro?"

"Nope." Kolt didn't even bother looking at him.

"I know you got a piece.  We all do."

"He kinda did," Sal admitted.

The corner of Kolt's lip lifted slightly, but that was all.

"I think he liked it," Tyr teased.  "Just dunno how he keeps his mouth shut.  If you fucked me, Sal, I'd be braggin' to the world."

"Ever think that might be why it won't happen?"  Kolt finally looked over.  "I'm not saying shit, man.  If Sal wants to talk about it, she will."

"And that," Sal told him, "is how a proper male acts."  She nudged Tyr's side playfully.

"Ain't how a proper male gets his dick sucked, though," Tyr pointed out.  "Hear iliri have some amazing tricks."

Kolt chuckled, rubbing his mouth to hide it.  "Smile for him, Sal?"

She turned to Tyr and grinned, parting her mouth to trace her tongue across the tips of her sharp teeth.  "You know I can bite through resin?"

Tyr sucked in a breath and stepped away from her, moving to grab the door to the hospital.  "I said suck, you beast, not bite."

"They aren't the same?" Sweeping past him, she stepped inside.

Tyr laughed.  "No, Sal.  You need a man to show you the difference?  I'm totally up for it."

Kolt leaned over Tyr's shoulder as he passed through the door.  "Gives a whole new meaning to the thought of dragging a tooth, huh?  Be careful what you start wishing for, man.  Iliri women aren't toys."

"No, they aren't," Tyr agreed, finally sounding serious.  Following Kolt in, he patted him on the shoulder.  "Trust me, I already figured that out.  Not a damned thing wrong with a woman who doesn't need to be taken care of."

"Different care," Kolt said softly, his eyes never leaving Sal.  "But they still need it.  All of us do."

Chapter 7

INSIDE THE HOSPITAL was a very sedate form of chaos.  Medics in pastel blue uniforms walked through the halls, each of them intent on something.  A few soldiers mingled among them, most likely visiting injured friends or colleagues.  Then there were the wounded.  Even locked away in their rooms, the scent of blood and disease was nearly overpowering.  Sal paused, rubbing at her nose to adjust to it.

"Can I help you?" a lean man asked.  Over a typical military uniform, he wore a long white coat.  That, and the clipboard in his hands set him apart, but his eyes were on Kolt.

"Anglia," Sal said.  "Came to give my healers some relief."

His eyes shifted to her.  "Oh!  Um, I'm guessing you're the Kaisae?"

"Yeah.  Is everyone stable?"

He nodded and offered his hand.  "Lieutenant Colonel Rayce Coebins.  They call me Doctor around here."

Sal clasped his hand for a moment, blinking to ignore the thoughts, and released him as soon as she politely could.  His desperation was cloying.  "Pleasure," she managed.

"All mine and thanks for the help," he assured her.  "I was sure I'd lose two of them today, but they're fine now.  Currently, everyone is stable, but we have a few that are in and out."

"I'm sorry it took so long to get here.  Parliament wanted to play politics rather than just give us access."  Sal shrugged.  "Would you be able to direct me to my men?  I have a feeling this place is a labyrinth."

"Certainly."  He paused.  "Well, for two of them.  The furry ones said they'd follow their noses."

"Ah."  Sal reached out with her mind for Raast.  Hey?  Who do you have with you?

Rhyx, the nearly-grown pup replied almost immediately.

Ah, ok. Sal thought, bringing her sister into the conversation.  You still doing ok, Raast or gonna want a boost?

Na, Amma, I'm fine, Raast assured her.  My sister shares if I need it.  We've been looking for the ones these humans can't fix and doing as much talking as healing.

The ones? Sal asked.

Rhyx answered.  You said to help the ones who won't live until everyone else gets here.  Some of these men are too sad to keep going.  I can tell when I touch them, and they all like it when I try to hold their hands.  They say I'm cute.

Makes them smile, Raast agreed.  Dava Shift and Dava Risk said they could handle the bodies, but I need to work on the minds.  Rhyx finds them; I fix them.  I think my job is easier in some ways.

Sal sighed, trying to keep it to herself.  Trust me, that's not the easy part, Raast.  The mental agony kills more soldiers than weapons ever will, but I'm proud of you girls.  Let me know if you need any help.

Promise, Amma.

Knowing the pups would take that literally, Sal gestured for the doctor.  "Well, the 'furry ones' sound like they're on a mission.  Where's the closest iliri?"

"This way, sir."

He led them down a long, narrow hall, past rooms crowded with beds.  They passed through a larger area, filled with bandaged soldiers entertaining themselves quietly.  Some read, others gamed, and still others stared blankly at nothing.  Sal noticed a few missing limbs that had already healed and plenty of wounds the Conglomerate would deem worthy of retirement, but these were all older injuries and could wait for the grauori.

"I'm assuming someone explained what we can do?" Sal asked.

The doctor chuckled.  "No, not really.  Had a pair of Black Blades with those white monsters come in saying they could save lives, and I got the hell out of their way.  We've all been hearing rumors about Anglian medical advances and your lack of casualties, so figured I had nothing to lose.  Since they haven't stopped working yet, I didn't stop them to ask.  All I know is that the Anglian death toll is either some really ludicrous propaganda or you people know something we don't."

"We know how to respect the iliri and the grauori," Tyr said.  "Sal, you want me to give the Doc the human version?"

"Sure."  She saw Shift at the end of the hall, moving into the next room.  "It probably makes about as much sense as the iliri one.  It's not a secret anymore, Tyr.  We only want people to stop dying."

"Can do.  Go do your thing, Kaisae.  When you find Risk, let me know."

She patted his shoulder and headed to the door Shift had taken, knowing that Kolt would be right behind her.  Sal didn't knock.  Quietly, she slipped into the room, hearing a woman moan softly.  Kolt rested one hand on her shoulder as she stepped around the curtain expecting the worst.  She wasn't disappointed.  A pale soldier lay curled on the hard hospital cot, clutching at her stomach, moaning rhythmically.

"I'm here to help," Shift said, kneeling beside her.

She looked up, then glanced over Shift's shoulder at Sal.  "It's septic.  Hit the intestine.  Just make the pain stop?"

"You're not dying today," Sal said softly, "but we will make the pain stop."

Shift looked back and smiled, exhaustion lining his eyes.  "Hey, little brother. I'm glad you're here.  I don't have a lot left."

"I've got plenty," Kolt said.  "Only need you to leave me enough so I can get him coffee, Sal."

Shift offered his hand and Sal took it, reaching for Kolt with the other.  With his free hand, Shift grabbed the soldier, resting his head on the edge of the cot.  While he concentrated on healing, she took energy from Kolt and placed it in Shift.  Maybe she pulled more than she should have, but somehow she knew Kolt could take it.  When he began to dim in her mind, she released him and moved her concentration to help Shift.  Letting him fight the infected abdominal wound, she repaired the minor injuries across the girl's body, slowly reversing the damage the war had done to this soldier.

With a sigh, Shift squeezed her hand and released it, leaning back on his heels.  "I know why you're shit at this," he said, looking up at her.  "You do too much.  Bruises will fade on their own."  He turned back to the girl in the bed.  "How are you feeling?"

"Not so good," she whispered.

"Breathe deeply," Sal suggested.  "Long slow breaths.  Count ten of them, and it will pass."

"Thanks, Kolt," Shift said.

"Yeah, man.  What else do you need?"

"Coffee, for both of us.  I'll eat when I'm finished with this floor."

"Can do.  Don't let the Kaisae out of your sight."  Kolt sighed, and turned for the door, swaying slightly as he left.

"Kaisae?" the soldier asked.  "Like..."  she paused, then suddenly sat up.  "I'm ok!"

Shift nodded.  "Yeah.  You're gonna be fine.  A bit tired, but nothing that a good night of sleep won't fix – and the biggest meal you can handle."

"How?"  She looked from Sal to Shift.  "But?  Aren't you from Anglia?"

Sal nodded, moving closer.  "We represent the iliri of Anglia, and we're here to help the Conglomerate fight the Terran invasion."

The girl looked at her hands then pressed gently at her stomach.  "It's gone.  The wound, it's not there."

"You probably have a scar," Shift told her.  "Iliri healing can fix a lot, but we can't always prevent a scar."

"It's a waste of time, you know.  They're just going to put us back in front, over and over, until there's none of us left to get hit."

"Not anymore," Sal promised.  "The strategy is about to change.  I'm here to take care of my people, now.  Get some rest, soldier."

"Thank you!" the woman called after them as the pair walked from her room.

In the hall, Shift turned to her.  "They keep saying the same thing, Sal.  Four out of five are iliri, and they all warn me that it's a waste of my time."

"Yeah, but remember that they're free to change colors now.  Blue, green, it's as simple as swearing a new oath.  It's not a waste, and I have no problem with you making sure our people know."

Shift leaned back against the wall and sighed.  "I know, but what gets me is that the humans think this is acceptable.  They're losing because they're too stupid to use our strengths!  All of them.  I mean humans, iliri, what ever.  They're trying to fight a war based on how they think things should be, rather than how they are!"

"I know," Sal said again.  "I'm taking the tactics, Shift.  We'll show them, and if they still can't figure it out, we'll just take all the iliri home with us."

"Yeah."  He paused.  "Risk is on the second floor."  Then his eyes moved to the next door.  "The ones I can't help, I'm easing the pain until the grauori get here.  Doc said there's about eight thousand in this building.  Most critical are on second.  These are the ones they deemed terminal and are simply waiting for them to die."

She had a funny feeling most of these were also iliri.  "Look, Razor and Geo are available to refill you both, too.  Use what you need.  We'll keep pulling, and the Dogs and Shields offered more."

He nodded.  "Good to know.  Gives me a better idea of how far I can push this."  He leaned a bit, glancing over her shoulder.  "Your toy is back."

"Be nice," Sal warned him.

Shift lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.  "I am.  I like him, Sal.  He's good for you.  Doesn't mean he's not your toy."

"Anyone gonna have a problem with it?"

"Nah."  He wrinkled his face, thinking.  "Maybe Ghost, but sounds like he's turned his attention's elsewhere.  You hear about him and Shade?"

"Kinda.  What happened?"

"Coffee?" Kolt asked, holding out a cup.

"Thanks, man."  Shift took a tentative sip, made a face, then took a longer gulp.  "So, a group of humans were making crass comments at Shade.  She handled it pretty good, all things considered, but Arctic was out doing Raewar shit.  Audgan – I mean Ghost – got up in their faces, like something Zep would do, and stood up for her.  They didn't back down, so he dropped them with a fear of pretty redheaded girls, or so he says.  Ended up with Shade hugging him.  I think that boy figured out he can blush."

"Good for him," Kolt said, reaching down to lift Sal's hand and press a coffee into it.  "How's Arctic going to take the competition?"

Shift grinned.  "He permanently assigned Ghost to her side.  Made them partners.  According to Geo, Arctic went out of his way to make sure the boy knew it was ok.  I mean, Arctic was raised new iliri, but it's kinda hard to keep thinking that way now, ya know?"

"Can't imagine thinking that way to begin with," Kolt said.

Shift made an exasperated sound.  "You trying to say you can't see the appeal of having a woman all to yourself?"

Kolt shook his head. "Not really, no.  I mean, what do you do when you can't give her what she needs?"

Shift chuckled.  "They make meds for that, bro."

Kolt's jaw tensed.  "I mean outside your personality.  Look at Jase and Zep.  It works with Sal.  Jase brings out the iliri in her, Zep reminds her not to get too serious.  Imagine if she had nothing but Jase?"

"That would get ugly," Shift admitted, winking at Sal.  "Still kinda seems strange to me, to imagine sharing my girl with someone else.  Too human I guess."

"Or just not the right girl," Kolt pointed out.

"Could be."  Shift patted Sal's shoulder.  "Ok.  Go see Risk.  I'll yell if I need another refill."

Tyr? Sal asked.

Second floor, with Risk.  Doc wanted to watch, and I'm holding down a screamer.

On my way.  Shift's topped up.

I'll be here, Tyr assured her before wrenching his attention back to the task at hand.

"Sounds like it's real fun up there," Sal said, turning for the stairs.

They didn't even make it all the way to the second floor before she could hear the screaming.  Sadly, it wasn't only one voice.  A strangled cry here, a startled one there, and the insistent wail bouncing down the halls.  Sal pulled her ears to her head, hoping to block out the cries of pain, but it didn't help.  Patients in the rooms were covered in bloody bandages and nurses whispered encouragement as they tried to tend the wounds.  The smell was even worse than the screams, but not by much.

Twice Sal caught herself reaching for a weapon at the sound.  Both times, Kolt pulled her closer, always aiming them toward the cry that never seemed to stop.  She'd almost reached it when the man's voice fell silent.

"That normal?" Kolt asked.

She nodded.  "That means he's done."

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than a hysterical laugh rang out.  "It's back!" the man said, pointing Sal to the room she wanted.

She marched in with her head up, scanning the bedside for her brother, and caught the eyes of the soldier instead.  He sucked in a breath, pulling himself back in the bed, then glanced down to his healer.

Risk sat on the floor, his eyes barely open, breathing hard.  "Hey, Sal.  Nice timing."

"You look like shit.  What's the count?"

"Two arms, seven lower limbs, and the three fingers all on this guy."  He jerked his thumb at the man on the bed.  "I have about twenty traumatic wounds ranging from brain bleeds to abdominal injuries that I left for the grauori, but I think we got everyone stable enough to make it."

"Ready for a refresher?"  She offered him a hand up.  "Still willing, Tyr?"

The doctor pulled himself away from the wall.  "A refresher?"  He gestured to the door, and they all turned that way.  "Thank you, soldier.  Rest up," he called back to the man on the bed.

"Healing uses mostly the patient's own life force, but we have to direct it, which burns energy," Risk explained once they were in the hall.  "Think of it like building a wall.  We don't make the rock, but we're still tired after moving it."

"Ok.  I can see that."  He looked between the three of them, chewing at his bottom lip.

"So I basically give energy from one of us to the other," Sal told him.  "It seems to be something that works best with people who are close, like family, but not something I've had a lot of chances to test."

"How do you transfer energy?  I mean, doesn't that break some of the laws of physics?"

She shrugged.  "I have no idea.  I did it the first time by accident, taking it from Kolt after I'd been healing.  It's kinda like trying to explain how you hear.  You just do.  Maybe you can explain how the ear works, but not how you manage to focus on listening."  She gestured for the group to move to a seating area placed halfway down the hall.

Risk staggered and Tyr grabbed him, keeping the golden man on his feet, nearly carrying him to a short bench tucked in a small alcove.  Once there, Risk dropped into it gratefully and leaned his head on Tyr's shoulder.  The human shifted a bit and wrapped his arm around the delicate iliri's back.

"Now don't start flirting with me," Risk teased.

"I could kick Tilso's ass," Tyr joked.  "Give him everything he needs, Sal.  I can always take a nap here if I need to."

"Be careful what you ask for."  She knelt before them.

With one hand, she grabbed Tyr, Risk with the other, well aware that Rayce, the doctor, was watching them carefully.  Closing her eyes, Sal opened the gates between them, refueling her brother as she drained the Devil Dog.  Risk sat up a bit and sighed, then moved to support Tyr as the larger human began to wilt.  By the time Sal was finished, Tyr's eyes were heavy and he acted like his arms weighed more than he could handle.

"Damn," Tyr said weakly.  "Put me away wet and didn't even buy me a drink first."

Risk bit at his lip as he helped Tyr lay over, shifting him until he was comfortable.   "I'll make up for it tonight, pretty boy.  Just close your eyes for a bit.  Sal will be right here."

"Yeah," Tyr said dreamily.  "Sounds like a plan.  Remind me again why I like you people?"

Sal smiled and patted his leg.  "Because we're winning, Tyr."

"Nah.  It's because you fucking love everyone.  The world needs more white.  I'm gonna take a nap so I can do that again."

Chapter 8

SAL SAT THERE with Tyr for a while, answering the doctor's questions as well as she could.  She wasn't a healer, though – not really – so most of her answers left him wanting more.  Kolt leaned silently against the wall, his eyes watching the doctor's every move.  When Ilija found them, she barely noticed.

"Was told to report, Kaisae," he said as a greeting.

"Hey."  She smiled up at him.  "We've got the patients stabilized and the boys are trying their best to lighten the load.  What time is it?"

"1700 hours.  Nya said the maargra are about an hour out and moving fast.  I have a couple of the Dogs' bravo team waiting for them at the western gate."

"Good thinking."  Then she tilted her head to the man beside her.  "Ilija, I should also introduce you to Doctor Rayce something."  Sal looked up at the doctor and shrugged.  "It's been a long day.  Sorry."

"You're fine, Kaisae.  Most everyone calls me Doc, but I answer to Rayce, too.  It's Coebins if that matters."

Ilija held out his hand.  "Lord Colonel Ilija Vayu Valmere, Sergeant at Arms, leader of the Anglian human military, second only to the Kaisae, and some other stuff.  I answer to Ilija."

"A grunt, got it."  Rayce's smile showed he was joking, but it looked uncertain.

"Basically," Ilija admitted.  "I'm just a really well titled one, which makes it a bitch to introduce myself without possibly causing offense."

Rayce relaxed at that.  "Gotcha.  So, why are you here?"

Sal leaned back and kicked out her legs, resting one arm on Tyr's chest.  "Because in about five minutes, a group of Generals will show up at this hospital, wanting me to explain what's going on.  He's big, he's human, and he's the King's brother-in-law, so they tend to back down."

"Thing is," Ilija said, "I answer to her, not the other way around."

Kolt leaned over.  "Hey, I'll watch his back.  You go play leader, babe."

"Thanks.  I had no idea it'd hit humans harder."

"It's ok.  I got this.  Yell if you need me?"  He caught her eyes and smiled.

She nodded then glanced at the sleeping man again.  "Yeah.  When he's up, make sure he gets back to the barracks, because I doubt he'll be up for long."

"Promise.  Even if I have to carry him there myself."  Kolt looked up at Ilija.  "You have her back, sir."

"Yes, sir," Ilija replied.

Together he and Sal headed back toward the stairs, Rayce following at their side.  "I want to know what that's about?" he asked, gesturing behind them.

Ilija grunted.  "You'd think it's strange if a King went around without a body guard, right?"

"Well, yeah?"  Rayce looked confused.

Ilija tilted his head to Sal.  "She's kinda the queen of the iliri.  All iliri, not just the Anglian ones.  I'm human, but her brothers trust me enough to serve when needed."

"They're all your brothers?"

Sal tilted her hand from side to side.  "Yes and no.  None of them share parents with me, so we're not that type of a family.  We share a different bond that's only in our minds."

"Literally in their minds," Ilija clarified.

Sal tapped her head.  "I can hear their thoughts and share mine.  We can pass memories, share senses if we need to, and things like that.  It's called being linked."

"And that makes you call them brothers?"

She nodded.  "It's like how soldiers talk about their brothers in arms.  Same idea but a lot more personal.  We're not really a military unit, not anymore.  We're a pack, and I'm the alpha bitch."

"She kinda is," Ilija teased.  "The bitch part, I mean."

Sal giggled and slapped his shoulder playfully.  "So, we don't really care about military ranks – at least the Blades.  I was never promoted above lieutenant, but I'm the leader of the entire nation's military.  Instead, we use a more personal hierarchy.  My pack mates are all brothers, even the women.  Those who are worthy of producing the next generation of the unit, per se, are known as ilus, or breeders.  My mates are titled by their position, first husband, second husband, and so on."

"Do all iliri do this?" he asked.

Sal shrugged.  "I think most of us would, but not all of us do.  It's hard to hide an entire pack when you're living in the middle of humans.  In Anglia, they don't care, but here?  Here, that's a good way to get dead."

He let his head drop.  "Yeah.  Too many of my patients have pale skin and hair.  That's why I want to know, Kaisae."  He sighed.  "I took an oath to save lives, but sometimes I feel like I'm merely prolonging the torture."

He was being honest and she could smell it.  This man had no fear of her and plenty of respect, and from what she could tell, he felt that way about all iliri.  That meant he deserved to know, but she didn't have time to explain this gently.  Instead, she stopped and turned to him, ticking off the major differences between humans and her kind.

"Don't touch us unless you have to.  Your skin carries thoughts and, even if we can't read them, we feel a sensation like spoiled meat wiping against us.  The less you despise us, the easier it is.  Don't look in our eyes unless you have to.  It's a sign of dominance and, in this country, we've been forced to submit.  That feels a lot like rape to an iliri.  We respect ourselves based on our place in our packs, doesn't matter if that's the top or the bottom.  Being forced into a position we don't deserve?  It breaks something inside.  When it happens over and over?"

"I can see that."  Rayce quickly glanced down.  "I'll screw that up a bit, but I'll try to remember."

She reached up and grabbed his arm gently.  "It's not so much looking in our eyes as holding the gaze.  If you forget and then look down, it's fine.  If you truly feel you shouldn't give respect to that person, look aside rather than down.  That's refusing the challenge rather than submitting.  Acknowledging that it bothers most of us will go a long way."

He smiled.  "Gotcha.  What else?"

She rubbed at her brow.  "Um, remember we aren't human and give us a little dignity?  That's more than most humans do in this country.  If you aren't sure, ask.  We know we're different, and you humans have made sure of it.  Having someone care to know how feels pretty nice."

"I can do that," he promised.  "And in case you didn't hear me say it before, thank you.  There's a lot of soldiers in here that will live a better life because your men are wearing themselves out.  I watched Risk rebuild a man's arm with his mind.  His entire arm!"

"Impressive, isn't it?" Ilija asked.  "Here's the one thing I don't understand.  They can do that, but you still treat them like little more than animals?"

Rayce sighed and shook his head. "I've got nothing for you, sir.  We grow up hearing they'll turn on us and that they're feral beasts, so we keep them away, terrified it'll happen – and teach them that we hate them.  I don't know how to break the cycle, except to do this."  He gestured behind him.  "I've been bitten twelve times as a doctor.  All twelve were humans.  I watched an iliri bite the side of the bed so she wouldn't sink her teeth into me as I sewed a wound closed, but the humans?  I think we're the real animals some days."

Ilija wrinkled his nose and shrugged.  "Nah.  We're all animals.  They're just a bit more civilized than we are.  In their own way."  Then he looked at Sal.  "You ready to do this?"

"I am," she replied.  "Doctor, would you make sure my brothers don't drain themselves dry?"

"That I can do.  Thanks for the help, sir.  Good luck with the Generals."  He saluted and turned, walking back down the hall.

"This is a strange country," Ilija said, leading her to the lobby.  "Were we this backward when you showed up?"

"Yep," Sal assured him.  "You didn't hate iliri, you hated women."

"Ok, fair enough.  You gonna be able to fix this shit like you did us?"

"I don't know, Ilija.  I honestly don't know, but we can always take our people home.  No matter what, I'm not going to turn a blind eye to this mess."

"And screw 'em if they don't like it."  He glanced up as they stepped into the main foyer of the building.  "Ah, here we are."

Five generals mingled in the lobby of the hospital, speaking softly amongst themselves.  The glint of well-polished resin on their collars made their rank impossible to miss.  In a chair at the side sat the most important, Ran Sturmgren, with one finger resting against his temple, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.  Albin stood over him, bobbing his head in emphasis as he spoke, glancing occasionally at the three men beside them.  Sal didn't recognize their faces, but she had a feeling she'd know their names soon.

"Ah, Generals," she said, forcing a friendly smile onto her face even though she could smell their frustration.  "I'm glad you could come."

"Why are we in the hospital?" one of the new men asked.  He didn't even try to act polite.

"Because I was busy and this was the most convenient place for me.  Have you been briefed on the iliri healing abilities?"

Albin scoffed.  "Magic, from the way Ran tells it."

"Pretty sure it isn't magic," Sal assured him.  "And if it was magic, we'd call it science since it's rather consistent, but that's beside the point.  How many of you have seen iliri healing?"

Ran bent his wrist to point at his own chest.  "Pretty sure I have, and I'm pretty sure the rest haven't."

She nodded and dropped her eyes to the ground while her mind reached out.  Shift, you have a patient that can be used for display?

Nah, sorry.  I've got an internal bleed and a few other invisible things.  I bet Risk has one.

"Let's head up to the second floor," she told the assembled officers.  "I'll give you a first-hand demonstration of why you need to take better care of your 'scrubbers.'"

"First things first," Ran said, pulling himself to his feet.  "Introductions.  For those who haven't figured it out, the short white one is the Kaisae Salryc Luxx, leader of the Anglian iliri.  The dark one?  Ilija something."

He chuckled.  "Lord Colonel Ilija Vayu Valmere, Sergeant at Arms, leader of the human military, second in command of the combined forces of Anglia, Marquis of Valmere, and father of Prince Jarl Jens Vayu Valmere, the heir to the human throne of Anglia."

"Impressive," Albin said.

"And a whole lot of bullshit," Ilija told him.  "All that's the really fancy way of saying that I knocked up the King's sister, got beaten into the ground by an iliri, and still pulled myself out of the dirt to keep fighting.  In Anglia, they call me sir, Colonel, or Ilija.  I'll answer to the first two from anyone, but only my friends get to use the last."  He looked over at Ran.  "You've earned it, sir."

"Dare I ask what you did, Ran?" one of the Generals asked.

Ilija chuckled.  "General Ran Sturmgren created the concept of elite forces and codified a few tactical strategies for small units to excel against larger forces.  The Kaisae expanded on the theories he created and restructured them to apply to entire armies.  In other words, General Sturmgren is the father of Anglian war tactics."

Sal smiled.  "Did I mention we're winning?"

Ran shoved a hand across the middle of his face.  "Right.  So," He pointed at the men one by one.  "This is General Sando Albin, General Payam Kaysir, General Elcin Laibek, and General Pate Usur."

"A pleasure, I'm sure," Sal said.  "Now if you'll follow me?"  She wasn't about to let any of these men have the upper hand.

Chapter 9

SAL RETRACED HER STEPS toward the second floor.  Calling out to Risk in her mind, she warned him that she'd be using him as a display.  Ilija walked proudly at her side, Ran following quietly behind him, but the four other humans clustered like a gaggle of birds, gawking at everything they passed.  From the way they acted, she couldn't help but wonder if they'd ever been inside the hospital before.  She doubted it.

Ahead of them, Risk walked into the hall, pushing his long golden hair away from his face.  He no longer looked exhausted, but frustration showed in the way he turned to face them.  He waited for them to get a bit closer then gestured to the next door.

"Saved this one for ya, Sal.  Leg amputated below the knee."  He glanced at the humans then back to her and made no effort to lower his voice.  "These people are barbarians."

"And who is this?" Laibek asked looking at Risk.  "An iliri doctor?"

Risk shook his head.  "Celyn Anceps, call sign Risk.  I specialize in sabers and serve as a secondary with ranged weapons.  I have moderate training in the jakentron, although both Sal and Arctic are a better shot, so I rarely use it.  I'm considered adequate in daggers, single sword – I tend to avoid the use of a broadsword due to my frame – and have been trained in shield work.  I'm a member of the Black Blades and can take down pretty much any human you put against me.  Healing is simply my iliri skill."  He gestured to the door again.  "Please tell me you people don't faint at the sight of blood?"

"Not today," Ran assured him.  "Lead on, sir."

They entered the room to see a middle-aged human with his stump of a leg propped high on pillows.  The bandage was stained with old blood, proving that the wound was not new.  The man set down his book and looked up.  Shock took over his face.

"Sirs," he said, shifting awkwardly before lifting his hand to imitate a salute.  "I'm afraid I can't greet you properly, sirs.  Please forgive me."

"At ease, soldier," Usur said.  "You've done enough.  I think we can overlook the salute."

"Thank you, sirs."  He glanced at the Anglians, trying to hide his confusion, but jerked his eyes back to his own officers.  "Can I help you all?"

Risk stepped to the man's side but made no move to touch him.  "It's possible.  Sir, I'm going to give you a choice, and it's completely your choice to make.  I can offer to return your leg to you, but it will be at the price of pain such as you've never experienced before.  The pain will only last a few minutes, and your leg will work properly as if it was never removed.  Or, I can walk out of here and leave you as you are."

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"He is," Ilija said.  "About both the leg, and the pain, but I've heard it's worth it."

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

Risk knelt beside him.  "I'm iliri, and I have the ability to repair your body to what it knows as its own.  You will feel the bone grow and knit together, the muscles replaced, and the skin return.  The pain of the wound, the itching of the healing, and the aches that come with it all will be compressed into a few minutes, making it seem nearly unbearable, but when it's over, it's completely over."

"How?" the man asked again.

"I don't know," Risk said honestly.  "Some call it magic; we call it our skill.  Mine is healing.  Are you willing to try?"

"If I can get my leg back, yeah.  Can't hurt worse than losing it, right?"

"It can," Sal said, stepping to his other side.  "Your body will only acknowledge so much, though, and you will be unable to remember what it feels like except that it was horrible.  I know; he's done it to me a few times."  She turned behind her and looked at General Albin.  "That's how I survived the attack in the Forward Camp.  You would have let me bleed to death, but my brothers wouldn't."

"It's worth a try," the soldier said.  "What do I need to do?"

"Lay back.  Get as comfortable as you can," Risk told him.  "Sal, remove the bandage?"

The sweet scent of human blood wafted from the wound.  She licked her lips, bracing to ignore it, but Ilija chuckled.

"I got it, Sal."

He carefully unwound the wrapping, revealing red, angry flesh and a puckered mass of scar tissue too new to have even started to heal.  The man stared at his mutilated leg sadly, unable to look away.  Gently, Risk reached up to his forehead, guiding him to lay back.

"Close your eyes," he said softly.  "Breathe.  Just breathe, soldier.  We'll take care of the rest."

Risk looked up at Sal and nodded, then closed his eyes.  Immediately, the human's mouth fell open in a silent scream, and he jerked violently.  Sal grabbed the large man's shoulders, pinning him to the bed as Ilija held down his thighs.  His body contracted, tensed against the pain for a long moment, then simply stopped as Risk sucked in a long deep breath.

"Again."

And again the man writhed, but this time he found his voice.  He screamed loudly, his vocal chords ripping from the violence of it as he thrashed against their restraint, but Sal looked and saw his leg growing longer, the bone lengthening before the muscles, the flesh racing to catch up.  Over and over, Risk repeated the process, never pausing long in between, until the man's foot was kicking against the sheets.  The whole time, the patient bucked, his body trying to evade the pain.  Soon, a vivid scar lined his shin, circling around his calf, and the pale new leg extended beyond that, but the muscles matched the other side.  It looked nearly normal except for the color.

With a long breath, Risk released the man and leaned back.  "You did good, soldier.  Breathe for a moment before you sit up.  The pain is done."

The man nodded, wiping at the tears that had leaked down his cheek.  "Did it work?"

Sal reached down and brushed the sweat dampened hair from his brow.  "Look," she whispered.  "Open your eyes and see for yourself."

Slowly, his lids raised and he met her eyes, smiling unconsciously before his gaze shifted down his own body.  Carefully, he lifted his thigh until he could see his toes peeking back at him.  The sight made him jerk up, gasping as he reached for a part of his body that minutes ago hadn't been there.  While his fingers probed to be sure his leg was real, the man could do nothing more than stare.  Shock was too mild of a word for the expression on his face.

"You gave it back," he breathed.  "Oh fuck, it's real.  It's really there!  My leg's back!"

Sal walked toward the foot of the bed and touched his knee, trailing her fingers down the new skin.  "Feel that?"

"Yeah!"

She moved to the bottom of his foot, making the man laugh as his toes curled away from her touch.  "You will have no calluses and the skin will be sensitive to the sun," she explained, "but otherwise your leg is the same as it was before.  Use it gently for the next day, but the hardest part is getting the outside back to the shape you're used to."

"You good, Risk?" Ilija asked while the soldier amused himself with wiggling his toes.

"Yeah, just need to catch my breath."

That's when the soldier turned to his healer.  "Thank you, sir.  I don't think I can thank you enough."

Risk pulled himself a little straighter.  "Sure you can.  Be nice to my people, and that pays me back completely."

"You mean the iliri?"

Risk nodded.  "The very same.  We hid this from your kind because you'd abuse us for it.  For years, I lived chained in a basement because I can do this, but the Kaisae over there, that pretty little woman with funny ears?  She said we should try something new and you get a leg.  Prove she wasn't wrong, be kind to us, and we'll do more.  Treat us as people instead of animals."

"I can do that, sir."  He laughed, looking up at the ceiling.  "I've got my leg back.  I can definitely do that."

"Good.  Now you should rest," Risk told him.  "That's the fastest way to recover from what you just went through."

Sal caught Ilija's eye and tilted her head back to Risk as she pointed to the door, gesturing for the Generals to leave.  While she ushered them out, Ilija helped her brother up and guided him into the hall.  Risk smiled thankfully and shuffled over to one of the many benches, collapsing into it.

"Yeah, those can knock the wind out of me, but you said you wanted something they could see."  He sighed and leaned his head back.  "Kolt still up here?"

"Yeah, and Tyr.  What do you need?" Sal asked.

"Just a coffee.  What's the ETA on the maargra?"

"If I had to guess?  About half an hour," Ilija said.  "Rest, brother.  You're off duty."

"How'd you do that?" Laibek asked.

Risk tapped his head.  "I close my eyes and make it happen.  Been doing it since I was a boy."

"Who can do it?" Usur wanted to know.

Risk shrugged.  "Iliri.  About one in ten is a healing type, but we all heal differently.  Mine hurts, but it's pretty strong.  Shift causes vertigo, but he can't regrow limbs.  Sal?"  He chuckled.  "We let her fix hangnails."

She chuckled at the truth of that.  "I can speed up natural healing, but that's about it, and I use about twice the energy to do it.  The grauori can also heal, well, many of them."  She carefully forgot to mention the miracles Raast could do.

"The big white beasts from the Myrosican meeting?" Kaysir asked.

"Yeah," Sal said.  "I've got fifty of them coming.  Doctor Rayce Coebins said there are nearly eight thousand wounded in Fort Landing."

"Approximately," Ran agreed.

"That should take a few days to clean up.  When the maargra are finished, I'll send them to the assault on the Forward Camp."

Usur smiled and leaned against the wall casually.  "What assault on the Forward Camp?"

"The one I'm about to plan," she told him.  "I can assume you have maps?"

"You think you have the clearance for that?" Albin demanded.

She nodded slowly.  "I'm the leader of the combined Anglian military.  Parliament spent a few days kissing my bleached ass.  So, yeah.  I think I have the clearance for anything I need.  Oh, and Ran has the paperwork to prove it."

"It came with the treaty," Ilija told them.  "See, we know a few things you don't, and unless you want to start spilling classified intelligence in the halls of this hospital?  Yeah.  Let's see this War Room I keep hearing about."

"How do you know about the War Room?" Kaysir wanted to know.

Ilija tilted his head to Sal, who sighed.  "Blaec Doll?  You remember him?" she asked.

"The late Kaisor of Anglia," Ran explained.  "Formerly known as The Lieutenant, leader of the Black Blades."

"Yeah," she breathed.  "And you remember when he stormed into the War Room and kinda mentioned that the Blades is an all-iliri unit?"  Sal looked at each of them.  "I told him to do that.  So?"

Ran moved to her side and politely offered his arm.  "Kaisae, if you'd allow me to escort you, I'd love to show you the center of the Conglomerate's war effort.  I hope that we can find a strategy that will force Terric back from our border."

She slipped her arm in his and let him guide her down the hall.  "Thank you, General Sturmgren.  I have a feeling that I might be able to help."

"Just a bit," he whispered.

"Just a little bit," Sal agreed.

Chapter 10

WHILE THE KAISAE was dealing with Military Command, the rest of the Anglians were settling in.  Like always, they'd been assigned rooms according to their units, but they were still close together.  That meant the Devil Dogs were nestled nicely between the Blades and the Shields, which was exactly where they belonged.

Dropping his supplies off in his cabin, Pig saw the King and his Consort meandering back to the far end where the Verdant Shields had been bunked.  Knowing Sal was still occupied with business, he dropped his pack on the floor, dug in the near side pocket for the book he'd carried from Prin, and rushed out, trying to catch up.  He needed to have this talk where the Kaisae couldn't listen in.

"Ray!" he called, knowing the woman who used to serve under him would stop.

Tugging the King to a halt, she proved him right.  "Hey.  Been a while.  How are the guys?"

He shrugged that off.  "Same as always.  You two have a minute?"

Dom's eyes narrowed, dropping to the leather bound journal in Pig's hands.  "That almost sounds serious."

Pig cocked his head toward the first set of cabins where a few too many black uniforms were still visible.  "Have some friends with good hearing and wanna talk about them behind their backs.  Nothing bad."  He paused.  "Least I don't think it is."

"Sure," Rayna offered, proving she'd already accepted her position in their new world.  Then again, she'd always kinda reminded him of a queen in her own way.  "Coffee, or is this just a quick gab and go?"

"Coffee," Pig assured her, pleased to see she hadn't lost a thing.

Making the drink would give him the excuse to talk to the King in private if that's what he needed.  It also gave her a pretty good idea of how long this chat would take.  A gab and go meant it was merely a head's up.  Sticking around long enough to drink coffee when the unit was still unpacking?  That meant someone needed to make a decision.

Without another word, she led the two men to the sparse living quarters they'd been assigned.  Unlike in Prin, none of these were any different than the others.  Officers typically bunked in the officer hall, not with their men.  Anglia didn't care about those things.

Stepping inside, Rayna didn't mince words.  "Do I need to get deaf fast?"

Pig shook his head.  "Nope.  Just need an official response to my request."  He gestured for Dom to claim the couch and took the wooden chair on the far side of the room while Rayna wandered off to find a kettle.

Dom eased himself down, pulling the crown from his head.  "If it's bad news, I don't want to know."

"Nothing like that.  I just wanted to see if you'd approve a request for reassignment?"

Dom paused, clearly trying to think that through.  "I'm assuming for the Dogs, but why and where?"

"Iliri nation, and I'd prefer the Kaisae doesn't know the why.  Officially, I think the iliri need a few more bodies in their army.  Since we've been a sister unit to them for a while, it makes sense.  No different than that guy, um, Trant?  The one Sal put on the Grauori."

"And unofficially?"

This was going to be harder.  "You've heard about the fate of the Kaisaes, right?"

Dom waffled his hand.  "I've heard comments about it, but hasn't been something I really wanted to ask Sal."

"They all die," Rayna called from the other room.  "Powers grow, they get more followers, powers grow more, their little minds snap, and they die, unleashing a white frenzy on anything around them."

Both of Dom's eyebrows shot up.  "That doesn't sound good."

Pig lifted a hand.  "Those are the stories.  I want to caveat that by saying that Sal's nothing like the Kaisaes in the stories, and even Cyno admits it.  Jase.  Whatever he's calling himself this month.  My problem is that Sal knows about it, and she's likely to become a bit careless now that her powers have surpassed anything in any history book I've heard of.  Know what that means?"

"No," Dom admitted, sounding like he had to force the word out.

But Rayna was still listening.  "She'll ride headlong into something because she and her mates wouldn't survive it anyway."

"Exactly," Pig agreed.  "Cept there's a few problems with the whole iliri history predicting the future crap."  And he lifted the book.

Dom froze.  "What is that?"

"The Lieutenant's journal."

Those words hung heavy in the room, making Rayna rush back in.  "Fuck me," she breathed, her mouth hanging open.  "Like, the chronicle of his visions?"

"Seems to be."  Pig opened it to a random page at the back.  "I couldn't sleep tonight.  Every time my eyes close, I see an avalanche pouring down a grassy hill, heading right to her.  It writhes.  She's roaring, but not in fear.  It's pain, the kind that only comes from the heart.  If we can reach her in time, we can turn that avalanche to our side.  It's sentient, one large mass that knows her and will obey, but only if we can do something for it first.  I don't know why, but the options are clear.  Either Sal will hold the future, or the bodies of Anglian soldiers will be strewn through those flowers, ravaged by the power of that force."

Dom's breath fell out in a huff.  "Battle of Barton's Meadow.  Roo got hurt.  We tried everything to save her, but the healers couldn't help, not even the grauori.  Risk showed up minutes before we lost her and put her back together, but the pups were born from the wound in her side."  He chuckled.  "And that avalanche was Rragri's army.  They looked like one as they poured from the trees and onto the Terrans."

"Bet if you ask," Rayna said, moving to sit beside Dom, "you'll find that Blaec pushed the Blades to ride non-stop until they got there."

"Wouldn't shock me," Pig agreed.  "I plan to give this to Sal, but I want to make sure she's going to be ok with it.  Flipping through, I've already found a few things about her, and I'm a little worried that it'd set her back, if you know what I mean?"

Dom cut right to the point.  "I don't."

"Ok."  He gently closed the book, letting one hand caress the cover.  "There's at least ten different options in here where Blaec wouldn't have died for Sal.  He still died for some other reason, but that doesn't come up for quite a few pages."

"And," Rayna explained, "Pig's worried that Sal might start blaming herself again.  No, I agree.  She doesn't need this yet.  She'd have to look, and right now, that wouldn't help anyone."

Dom nodded, accepting their decision.  "So what does this have to do with reassigning the Dogs?"

Pig rubbed at his face, trying to put his jumbled thoughts in order.  "So, nothing like this has ever happened in known history.  For the first time, a Kaisae is leading not only iliri – and usually iliri against humans – but our leading lady out there is directing humans against another iliri."  He gave Dom a pointed look.  "She brought us all together.  She's holding the two species in alliance.  Three, if you want to be honest.  She's teaching us how to work together and create a country where her people will be safe.  It's never happened before."

Dom made a circle with his hand.  "Keep going."

"Every other time a Kaisae has achieved great powers, it was to defeat a single enemy, to free their people from a specific situation.  Usually local.  Not true with Sal.  She's working on a much bigger picture.  She's fighting for equality of the species.  I'm hoping Blaz is right and that means her fight won't be over when the Emperor dies..."

"Or we'll lose her, and there's no one to take her place," Dominik finished, putting all the pieces together.  "Yeah.  I'm with you on that, but what does this have to do with the Dogs?"

Pig's eyes dropped back to the book.  "This only talks about iliri.  I'm not far into it, but the only references to humans are how they interact with her people – but Blaec gave me a prophecy."

"You're iliri?" Rayna asked, smiling weakly to show she was joking.

Pig ignored her teasing.  "No.  He did that after she was crowned.  After we'd sworn to help and became her soldiers.  After we were a part of the Kaisae's army, Ray.  He saw my future, and I think it's because whatever Ayati is, it doesn't know what to do with us."

Dom lifted his palm, halting Pig's theory.  "It's not a who, but a what.  I know that much.  No different than making wood hot, it will burn.  It's the natural order of things, so why would humans be exempt from it?"

Pig shrugged, lifting his hands to his shoulders to show his own confusion.  "Not a clue.  Thing is, no matter how you look at it, what Sal needs right now are a couple of soldiers she can count on – that's us.  She needs some people willing to die for the bigger pictures – still us.  And, most of all, she needs a set of bodyguards who get the whole iliri thing, can move among them, and can hopefully keep her ass alive until the war is over and there's nothing left to kill her.  Since we're mostly immune to her little charisma problem, definitely us."

"And her sanity?" Rayna asked.

With a sigh, Pig dropped his head.  "I'm hoping that her brothers can figure that part out, or the grauori.  I can't even wrap my mind around the things theirs can do, so I'm probably no help.  What I can do..."  He looked between Rayna and the King, checking to make sure they were paying attention, "is raise their kids.  I'm the last human still alive who was trained by Blaec Doll, since Zep doesn't count.  If there aren't any Blades to come back from this war, there will at least be a couple of Dogs to train the next generation how to do it right, and I'm not sure we could do that as humans.  Legally, I mean."

For a moment, Dom just breathed, his eyes locked on the floor.  "Pig, effective immediately, I'm assigning the Devil Dogs to the iliri nation as their liaisons to the world and our country.  Make sure the Kaisae knows that this is to make sure she has enough brothers to watch her back because you've always been more hers than mine."  His lips curled up in a weary smile.  "And tell her that she always gets the cool toys?"

"Yes, sir."  Pig leaned forward, intending to leave, then relaxed back in his chair.  "Thanks, Dom.  This is the last debt I still owe to Blaec.  If you'd said no, I woulda done it anyway."

"I know," the King assured him.  "Never doubted your loyalty, and always knew they're the only reason the Dogs are here.  This just makes sense.  Now that I've seen this place?  Yeah.  I want as many humans between that bitch and the rest of the world as I can get."

Pig gestured for Rayna to get that coffee.  "Sire, I dunno if I can keep her from going crazy.  I can't even be sure I can keep her alive.  I can, however, make sure that whatever time she has left is filled full enough to make up for what they did to her back in the day.  Dom, we aren't real nice to iliri here, and the more pure they are, the worse it is."  He paused to lick his lips.  "And a female?"  They both looked to Rayna.

She shook her head.  "That's not my story to tell.  I may be her best friend, but don't think that makes me a direct line to her secrets."

"Well," the King decided, "then I guess that means the iliri are about to go a little rogue.  Dear, would you do me a favor?"

"Mhm?" Rayna asked, placing a cup before each of the guys.

"Go be bad with your friend while we're here?  Pick up guys, get in fights, I really don't care.  Do whatever stupid stuff CFC elite ladies do?"

She twisted her mouth to the side, pinching it closed while she thought about that.  "Not sure I can lead her astray like that.  Sal's not that kinda girl."

Dom flapped a hand, dismissing that.  "I'm saying I don't care, Ray.  Pig may owe Blaec, but my debts are to her.  If convincing you two to have a little fun helps pay that off, then I'm pretty sure I can get drunk with Ilija for a night or so."

"Ok.  Then I'm also going to help train up my replacement.  Pig's got a new one in the Dogs."

"Keeya Tikva," Pig admitted.  "And she can stay on a horse at a walk and a trot now."

"But not a canter," Rayna teased.  "Why'd you put her in grey?"

It was Dom who answered.  "Blaec.  He said she's important."

Pig lifted his cup, smirking over the edge of it.  "And I can't pull the iliri trick of quoting a prophecy perfectly, but I'm supposed to make the girl cry.  I'll feel bad, but that's what it will take for her to find it.  He said it like that whole finding part was a big deal, too."

Rayna pointed at the book in his lap.  "Any bets on if she's in there?"

"I dunno," Pig told her.  "This was in Prin.  He had that vision after he left."

Rayna's head came up, and she looked to the north.  "Which means there's another, and I bet it's in Issevi!"

"And we're not," Dom reminded her.

She rolled her eyes.  "But the Nuvani are, and Kolt isn't the only fetcher.  Stop thinking like humans, people.  Book's as good as in our hands if we can just figure out where it is."

Pig tossed back the last of his coffee and stood.  "And I know who'd have that information.  Razor keeps track of their supplies and personal belongings.  He also knows me well enough to not ask any questions."

And with that, he headed for the door, not even bothering to wait for his former leader to dismiss him.  He was on a mission.  First, he had to find that book.  Next, he had to tell his guys that they were officially under the rules of the iliri, and their new leader was the one they'd already followed halfway across the continent.  Their plan was now officially in motion.

Chapter 11

THE MEETING IN THE WAR ROOM hadn't quite been a disaster, but it wasn't far from it.  Military Command had not been pleased with Sal's insistence that she test the units who would accompany her.  They couldn't understand why she didn't simply just accept the recommended units and warned her that the Conglomerate soldiers would not be impressed with the idea of proving themselves to an iliri, but Sal didn't care.

She told them to issue the order for an open trial, reminding the Generals she had the authorization from Parliament to make all decisions.  When Ran backed her up, the other men could only seethe.  Thankfully, after hearing a portion of the intelligence she'd gained, they at least did it silently.

When they were done, Ilija escorted her to the barracks – which was really nothing more than a row of cabins similar to those she'd first used at Stonewater Stables while an elite recruit.  Long rows of rooms lined a packed dirt street.  Shallow porches connected them.  Grauori lay casually, proving Nya and the healers had arrived.  They watched the humans wandering past, making no effort to hide their curiosity.  A few Anglians mingled around their doors, but a busy line of Conglomerate soldiers streamed in and out of the rooms Ilija said were hers.

"What are they doing?" she asked.

"Well, Zep introduced himself as Dernor to that kid, Calix.  He's our liaison.  So, he said that the Conglomerate would be happy to meet our cultural needs."

"Yeah.  So what are they doing, Ilija?"

He chuckled.  "Making a bigger bed."

"Zep!" Sal yelled, marching toward what would be her room.

"Hey, baby," Zep called to her, pushing through the door.  "How'd the meeting go?"

"You're making them..."

"Fuck yeah, I am.  They're almost done, too.  Calix found this massive bed in one of the diplomatic suites and offered to let us stay there.  Well, I told him that we can't leave our brothers, so he offered to have it brought here."  Zep gestured at the pair of wagons.  "This is the result.  The entire sleeping chamber is nothing but bed now."

"And you're loving this, aren't you?"

He caught her hips and pulled her tight against his chest.  "Oh fuck yeah I am.  You know every one of these dumb shits is watching us right now?  They haven't figured out yet what Ahnor and Dernor mean, not with Kolt chasing you around all day, but I want to make sure it's pretty clear."

"So you can brag?"  She reached up and kissed him, standing on her toes to do it.  "There you go.  You know we're staying at least a week, right?  Probably twice that?"

"Yep.  Eight thousand wounded to put back together and about fifty men to recruit, give or take, who can work with us."  Zep palmed the back of her neck.  "Figure if Prin took a week, we'll be here at least twice that.  Yeah, I got that."

Ilija chuckled.  "So, you good now, Sal?"

"Oh she's good," Zep assured him.  "She's real good."

That made Ilija laugh.  "Get laid, Zep.  I'm going to get a bath."

"I like that idea," Zep teased, lifting her to the banister lining the porch.  "Shove Jase against a wall, bend you over with your pretty little mouth wrapped around his – "

"Oh!" Calix exclaimed, walking through the door just in time to catch that.  "Yeah, bad timing on my part.  Pardon me, Kaisae."

Zep laughed and jerked his chin to the pale man.  "I like him, Sal.  You're good, Calix.  Was explaining to her why we needed a larger bed."

The Private chuckled.  "Sounded to me more like you were explaining why you need stronger walls."

She couldn't stop her giggle, nodding emphatically.  "I agree.  You still haven't explained the bed part to me."

Calix smoothed his face and took a step closer.  "Well, if you stretch the Dernor out on his back and climb on top him, then have the Ahnor kinda like – "

Zep's roar of laughter interrupted his explanation, but Sal was laughing just as hard.  "You are not allowed to help them get ideas!"

"Didn't figure they'd need them.  In all honesty, Kaisae – "

"Sal," she told him.

"Sal," he agreed, flicking his eyes up to hers for a split second.  "I wanted to thank you for what you said.  General Sturmgren spoke with me earlier and said I'll be getting a promotion when Anglia heads south."

She nodded.  "And I have a feeling that will only be the start.  He may be human," she looked up at Zep, "but sometimes it works."

"I see that."  He met Zep's eyes intentionally, then dropped his in a show of respect.  "It's very nice to see iliri habits demonstrated openly.  Quite a few of us hope it will change some minds."

Sal gestured over her shoulder, down the street.  "The work at the hospital will probably help more than anything.  Regrowing limbs, saving lives, asking only respect and kindness for our people as payment?"  She bit her lip and nodded.  "Yeah, that makes one hell of an impression.  Even humans understand a life debt."

Calix made a dismissive gesture.  "I'll believe that when I see it.  Sadly, humans have given me little reason to trust them."

"Me, too," she assured him.  "Well, except the Anglians, which means it's cultural – and cultures can be changed."

While they talked, Jase found a break between CFC soldiers and slipped through the door, making his way to her side.  He caught the last bit of that and the smile on her face.  The emotions shared through their bond told him even more.

"Good day?" he asked.

"Yeah," Sal said.  "Beat the shit out of some humans, got to pick on Tyr, healed a bunch of people.  Oh!  And I chewed out four generals."

"They agree to the plan?"

She shrugged.  "I didn't give them a choice.  Albin wanted to speak to Dom. Ilija laughed in his face."  She looked at Calix.  "The King doesn't do strategy.  He's pretty good with a sword now, but he can't calculate the radius of attack or predict a hard flank."

"Which is why we have Ilija," Zep said.  "Trained by Sal.  He was born in Anglia, so accepted us without question."

"So, I told them that their head-on strategy would be nothing more than suicide and threatened to go home at least twice."  Sal grinned.  "They gave in."

Calix's eyes had gone wide. "They wanted to rush over the Siahies?"

Sal nodded.  "Yep.  Figured they could just send a few scrubbers in first.  That'd clear the way."

The little man growled, his lip lifting in his anger.  "Yeah, kill even more of us."

Jase gripped his shoulder reassuringly.  "She will na let them."

"Nope," Sal agreed.  "We're riding to Merriton, re-taking the town, and pushing along the coast.  We'll use the maargra to hold the line up north and fold their line back on themselves."

"How bad's it going to be?" Calix asked.

"Fast, mostly," Sal assured him.  "I'll be leading the Merriton assault, Anglia with me.  I'm putting the 112th in charge of the attack on the Forward Camp, and Azure Silence will clean up after the siege on Eastward.  We'll have Ran organize the push along the Siahies with CFC regulars."

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, shaking his head.  "You shouldn't trust Azure."

She flicked one ear toward him.  "Raj Jozefo isn't Drago Trox."

"But I heard that Azure was responsible for an assault on you at the meeting for continental alliance in Myrosica, and Jozefo's name was all over the rumors."  He looked from her to Jase, confused.

"Kinda.  Trox had Raj by the balls."  Sal leaned back against Zep.  "Raj drugged me, but he thought it was just a sedative.  He honestly had no idea it was lethal.  When the next attack came, it was Raj who gave us the warning.  I let him live."

"Can he be trusted?"

She nodded.  "I gave him a link, Calix.  His First Officer is iliri, and Raj has his back.  When Toth tried to detain me, he gave me a way out – even if I didn't like it at the time.  I've also touched him.  He may not be one of mine, but he's a loyal soldier, and yeah, I trust him to follow orders."

"Ya did na tell him who referred him fer the position," Jase said.

"Right!  My brother, Reko Wyra.  He gave Raj the recommendation."

Calix's eyes had grown huge.  "Your brother?"

She nodded.  "Yep.  He's with Viraenova.  The Kaeen's daughter's mate, actually.  I also have a little secret that the humans don't really need to know.  I don't care if they do, but they won't get the importance."

"Ok?"

"There's a pair of purebred girls in Issevi.  Just little kids, but two of them.  They aren't related to me at all, and my brother isn't that old."

He grinned, nodding as he looked across the base, unable to believe his ears.  "Damn, that's good news.  So we're not done yet, huh?"

"Nope, not yet," Sal promised.  "It's only one more generation, but that might be enough for us to figure out our own culture and secure our place among humans."

"And there's always Anglia," Zep reminded them both.

"True," Calix said, "but hiding in the mountains is kinda like moving to a bigger prison cell.  No offense, Kaisae, but locking ourselves behind a border isn't the answer.  It doesn't necessarily change the way the rest of the world thinks about us.  Until humans accept that we're more than mere slaves, we'll still be little more than prisoners to our species."

"Sir?" one of the men wandering through their rooms dared to ask, casting a suspicious look at Calix.  "I'm sorry to interrupt, sirs, but we're done here.  Is there anything else you need?"

Sal looked back at Zep.  "We want to strengthen those walls?"

Jase chuckled.  "No, ya do na.  And I've been told that ya get the rest of the night off, kitten."

"Then I'll get out of your way," Calix said, gesturing for the other soldiers to make their way out.  "Let me know if you need anything, Kaisae.   Ahnor.  Dernor.  And thank you all for coming.  It's honestly a pleasure."

He smiled and backed away before turning, leaving the three of them alone on the porch of their borrowed room.  None of them said anything for a long moment, then Zep grabbed her, lifting her easily into his arms to carry her inside.  Jase followed, locking the door behind them and dropping his weapons as he crossed the room.

By the time they made it to the bedroom, she'd stopped thinking about military plans and discrimination against her kind.  She took full advantage of the massive bed, using every inch of it, wondering why she'd complained about the idea.  For once, the only thing on her mind was the two men taking full advantage of her until eventually, Sal lay across the mattress, draped between her men, and completely satisfied with her new life.  She was also exhausted.

"I could die right now and be a very happy girl," she told no one in particular.

"Mm," Zep shook his head.  "While I'm thrilled to hear you say that… not yet.  I'm gonna need to do that a few more times before I'm ready to die again."

Jase chuckled.  "I think she's ruined ya, big brother."

"Oh yeah," Zep agreed.

"There's only one problem with this whole thing."  She shifted, snuggling up against Jase while trailing one hand gently across Zep's chest.  "You two know we're going to Merriton, right?"

"Yeh," Jase said, his tone no longer playful.  "Ya still ok with that?"

She nodded.  "You gonna try to stop me if I make a little detour?"

"No," Zep promised.  "And anyone who does will have to come through the Black Blades."

"Is that what ya wanna do?" Jase asked her.  "Is it really?"

She nodded, biting at her lip.  "I need to go back there, Jase.  Everyone expects me to kill him, but that's not really it.  I just need to see it with a new perspective."

He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, looking deep into her eyes.  "Then I will be at yer left, kitten.  Ya will na have to face yer past alone."

"Thank you."  She grabbed Zep's hand and pressed her cheek against Jase's chest.  "I don't think I can move on unless I do this, not being so close."

Zep scooted behind her, kissing her neck as he wedged his arm between her body and Jase until her mates surrounded her completely.  "Whatever you need, demon," Zep promised.  "It's yours, ok?  Time, space, killing, I don't care.  You deserve to get something back for everything you've given all of us."

"I wish it was that easy," she whispered into her lover's skin.

"Never easy," Zep assured her, "but it's long overdue."

Chapter 12

THE NEXT MORNING, the sound of voices in the distance slowly trickled into Rayna's mind, convincing her to open her eyes.  Rough-hewn wood met her gaze.  For a moment, she tried to figure out how she'd crawled into a tree, then remembered where she was.  It had been a very long time since she'd stayed in one of the CFC's barracks, and they hadn't gotten any better.  The privacy was nice, but this country always used the cheapest supplies to make anything happen.

But that didn't stop the voices.  Trying to rub the crust from her lashes, she focused on each one, hearing men and women talking about times and places, mostly.  None of them sounded familiar at all, which meant they weren't.  The Anglian barracks might be at the edge of the base, but that put them right on the main path to the practice areas.  In other words, military hours would apply unless she learned how to sleep a little heavier.

Beside her, Dom snored softly, proving he didn't have any problems.  Rayna rolled into the heat of his body, kissing his bare shoulder before deciding that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.  With a not-so-silent groan, she flung her half of the blankets over the King and stumbled out of bed.

Pig? she thought, half on auto-pilot.  When's practice?

Unlike her, his answer sounded almost bright and chipper.  Well, for him.  Five minutes.  Borrowing Shadow Team's field since they're out of the base.  Why?

Because I need to hit something, she thought back.

A trickle of amusement leaked back with his answer.  Need me to send someone for an escort?  I'm pretty sure Dom's still asleep.

Rayna almost said yes, but had a better idea.  Lemme get back to you on that.  Then, while she started heating a kettle of water, she reached out for Jase's mind.  Hey, Cyno?

His response was instantaneous.  Yeh?  It also didn't sound groggy.

For a split second, she wanted to wring his little white neck.  What are the chances that your girl is sleeping peacefully?

She slept, he replied, but she is na sleeping now.  Why?

Willing to let her out of your sight for a bit?  I was thinking about inviting her to come play with me and the Devil Dogs.

Door's unlocked.  I'm going back ta bed.   She thought that was all she'd get, then he added, Thanks.

In other words, Sal's schedule was still a mess, and her mates were paying for it.  Well, if Rayna couldn't go back to sleep, then there was no reason she couldn't share her misery with her best friend who seemed to have the same problem.  One cup of coffee and a very worn set of grey fatigues later, she made her way up the street to the middle door on the first set of barracks.  Since there was no point in knocking, Rayna just pushed open the door and stepped in.

Sal was sitting cross-legged on the couch with a book open in her lap.  She didn't bother looking up but did flick an ear forward.  It was oddly cute.  At times like these, the leader of the iliri kinda reminded Rayna of an adorable little puppy, but one with needle sharp teeth.

"Wanna come play with Pig's new toy?" she asked.  "Because there's no way I can sleep in around here."

Sal's lips turned up in a devious little smile, but her eyes were still tracking across the page.  Not in rows like humans did, but roaming randomly, following the Iliran writing.  For a few seconds, she didn't say a thing, but when the book snapped closed, it was a pretty definitive answer.

"So you want to see your replacement?" Sal asked, finally looking up.

"Already have.  Remember that boring brown girl from Anglia?  Keeya something?"

"Tikva," Sal supplied.  "He promoted her?"

Rayna nodded.  "He has it on good authority that she needs a little training, and sounds like the Dogs are all in.  I figured he could use a little help."

Sal pushed herself off the couch in one smooth motion, unfolding her legs and taking a step as if it was a single, uninterrupted action.  Predators, Rayna thought, wishing she had that kind of grace.  But Sal was getting her weapons, buckling on her daggers before she worried about boots.  In the chair beside her were the crossed sheaths with her matched sabers.  Evidently the answer was yes, and she was taking all her toys with her.

Rayna picked up a pair of miniature black boots that had been kicked off beside the door and carried them over.  While Sal slipped those on, Rayna stole a glance at the book that was now resting on the end table.  Even the cover was written in the swirling language of the iliri, but she could read it.  The History of Iliri Subjugation and Domestication.  Exactly what every girl needed to start her morning.

"Researching?" she asked.

"Kinda," Sal admitted, gesturing to the door and heading that way herself.  "The Emperor thinks humans came from the stars.  The spoken histories of the iliri put a slightly different spin on it.  I figured that with Marnia working on that history vault, maybe we can get a better idea of where we all came from and why we ended up as slaves when we're the stronger species."

Together, they stepped outside and turned for the far side of the base.  Most of the CFC soldiers had already reported for their assignments, so the streets weren't crowded, but people were still visible everywhere.  Some were messengers, others were guards on duty, and still more were merely trying to make it through another day of their jobs.  Rayna let her eyes wander, aware these were the very people she'd once depended on, so she wasn't too worried.  That didn't mean she'd slack off, though.

"I figure," she told Sal, picking up their conversation where they'd left off, "the answer is a lot more obvious than you'll like."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Kaisaes.  Packs.  Being linked.  For us, it sucks to lose someone you care about, but it doesn't hurt.  For you?"  Rayna tapped her head.  "That pain is a pretty good leash.  All we'd need to do is find a way to control the Kaisae and we have a ready-made army, operated through the threat to their leader."

"But we have skills that could –"

Rayna didn't give her the chance to finish.  "That don't work if she's kept in a cell, behind walls.  Most of what you people can do is either line of sight or touch-based.  Lock you in a cave somewhere, and they can hear your thoughts but that's about it."

Sal pressed her lips together, her mind clearly thinking hard.  "So how do we prevent that?" she finally asked.

"Make sure you're never taken alone?  Spend every second being absolutely vigilant and remove any shred of privacy you could want?"  Rayna stepped closer and dropped her arm over Sal's shoulder.  "For a human, we'd use a suicide option, but that would destroy the iliri – and we both know it."

Sal nodded.  "I was just wondering if fetchers could work together like healers do, is all."  She slowly raised her eyes to meet Rayna's.  "If Kolt could have pulled Blaec out of there..."

"Then Kolt would be dead," Rayna reminded her.  "It wouldn't have changed anything, except who you grieved for."

Sal waved that away.  "I was actually thinking a bit further than that."  From the tone of her voice, Rayna knew this wasn't about her grief.  "I meant if Kolt could've slipped out, pulled Blaec while I dropped anyone close, and then fetched me, too.  If we had a few people fetching, we could all be pulled at once.  There's just one little problem."

"What's that?"

"Have no idea if fetchers can pull anything alive without killing it."

"Mm."  Rayna rubbed her arm.  "But at least it's something to test, right?  I'm thinking you might want to save it for an emergency, though."

Sal actually chuckled at that.  "Yeah.  I can't imagine it would...."  Her voice trailed off and her entire focus shifted.

Rayna turned to follow her gaze.  Off the road was a small sitting area, made up to look like a miniature park.  Very miniature.  The open ground was nothing more than the space left over between two larger buildings, but a group of men had claimed it as their practice space.  It took a second before Rayna figured out what had drawn Sal's attention.  Conglomerate soldiers often practiced on their off time.  It was the only way to improve enough to get into the elite units or pass an exam for promotion.

Then Sal took a breath and Rayna realized what she'd taken for granted.  Each of the men and women wielding their wooden weapons had some trait that set them apart from humanity.  Long jaws, blanched hair, or even pale skin.  They weren't obvious crossbreds like most of the Black Blades, but Sal wouldn't need to look at them to know.  She could smell it.

"Iliri?" Rayna asked.

Sal nodded, slowing down to watch.  "But they're fighting like humans."

"So did you."

"Yeah, until Blaec taught me better."  Her eyes narrowed as she watched their harried movements, flicking from one soldier to the next.  "And those aren't standard maneuvers.  This isn't for a drill.  They're trying to figure out how to fight.  Like actually fight."

"Fight back," Rayna clarified.  Then she noticed one of the conscripts on the far side.  "Sal?  Isn't that the guy Ran assigned to you?"  Without pointing, she thought the location to her friend.

"Yeah..."  And with that, the spell was broken.  Sal started walking again, knowing Rayna would keep up.  "Something's going on in this country, Ray," she said softly.  "And it stinks."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because those men were all from different units.  Half of them wear insignia for departments that should keep them behind desks, but they all smell of desperation."  The sound of her teeth grinding made the hair on Rayna's neck stand on end.  "And their tactics looked like they were planning to be ambushed.  Notice all the back to back fighting?  Yeah.  That's not something you use when applying for elites."

"Wait."  Rayna's mind might not work like Sal's, but she knew a few things about the military.  "Before you go jumping to conclusions, keep in mind that Toth and a few others have talked about trading off the iliri to the Empire for peace.  He's gone now, Sal.  Maybe they haven't heard."

"Or maybe they've heard more."  They were almost to the practice field.  "A brush of a hand is all it takes and a reader can get enough intel to make half this base worried about their future.  The Generals already said they'd keep sending the 'scrubbers' in first to soften up the Terrans.  Wouldn't be a very big step to keep the humans well behind the line and kill off the one thing that this entire war seems to be about."

"Except Makiel wouldn't stop," Rayna reminded her.  "He's not looking to simply kill off the iliri.  He wants to control everything so Terric will become the center of the continent.  He won't just go back to being some backward little nation up in the corner of nowhere."

"Maybe not, but his propaganda might be enough to take out the biggest threat before it can become a problem."  Sal waved a hand back to where the iliri had been practicing.  "With them gone, all that's left are waves upon waves of humans, and that's an easy battle to win.  Especially when he's already conscripted half the population of Escea."

"Fuck," Rayna growled under her breath.  "Why couldn't you people just fight like beasts?  Did you have to get this superhuman ability to outthink us, too?"

That got a laugh as the pair turned the last corner and found themselves facing the sandy arena filled with twenty-five soldiers in grey.  Unlike the iliri they'd been watching, these men fought hard, not even caring that their weapons would do little more than bruise.  The difference was enough to make both ladies pause in awe.

"Wow," Sal said softly.

"Welcome to the Devil Dogs," Rayna told her, pushing Sal forward.  "Pig's motto is to fight harder in training, so battle is nothing but habit.  Let's go see if Pig has any news for ya."

The way she said it, Sal knew there was something she needed to hear.

Chapter 13

IN A QUIET CORNER of the field, Pig stood with his chest pressed against a girl's back and his arms wrapped protectively around her.  Sal could see his lips moving beside her ear as he carefully guided her arm through a complicated maneuver with a light sword.  She could also smell the lust emanating from him.

"Pig!" Rayna yelled when they got close enough.

He jerked back like he'd been caught doing something wrong.  "What?!"

Sal ducked her head, biting her lips together so she didn't give his charade away.  Rayna, however, wasn't nearly as subtle.

"Stop groping the recruits, man.  You're supposed to report."  As she spoke, she kept walking closer.  Grabbing one of the wooden weapons from the dirt where it lay discarded, she gestured for her former commander to move.  "You talk to the Kaisae.  I'll help."

"Ray," he warned.  "Don't be a bitch."

"Always a bitch.  Need to teach my replacement how to be one, too."  Then she smiled at the newest Devil Dog.  "I'm joking."

"Yes, sir," the girl answered meekly.

Rayna sighed.  "Keeya, right?  Lesson number one.  Those grey fatigues you're wearing?  Means you're one of the most bad-ass humans on the continent.  Comes complete with twenty-four other bad-asses to back you up when you do something stupid."  Then she winked.  "Which means you should enjoy it a little more."

Keeya audibly swallowed.  "Sir, um..."  She paused to take a deep breath.  "I'm just here to assist the Kaisae's efforts, sir."

"It's Rayna, and no, you're not.  You're here," and she gestured around them, "because you impressed the only human trained by the great Kaisor.  If all you wanted was to assist the Kaisae's efforts, you'd be marching in formation somewhere in Unav right about now."

"Escorting immigrants to Bysno," the girl mumbled.

"Or that," Rayna agreed.  "But you aren't.  You were chosen, so show me whatcha got."  Then she lifted her sword.

When the recruit raised her weapon into the guard position, Pig finally took his eyes off them and gestured for Sal to follow him to the rail at the side.  "If anything," he whispered, "Ray's gotten even more brazen since she started sleeping with Dom."

"Less people to impress," Sal agreed.  "So what are you supposed to report?"

"Yeah."  He turned his back to the rail and leaned on it.  "Asked for a transfer for the Dogs."

That wasn't at all what she'd been expecting.  "To where?"

"Iliri nation."  His eyes never left the women sparring, but Sal knew that wasn't where his attention was truly focused.

But it took a moment for his words to sink in.  "You're..."

"Yep, we're assigned to the iliri now.  Directly under your command instead of indirectly."

"Why?"

A hint of something wafted from him.  Just enough to change his scent.  "Officially?  Because you need more soldiers.  Unofficially?  Dom says he wants a few more bodies between you and the apes in this country."

From the way he smelled, that wasn't all.  "And?" she asked.

Finally, he looked at her, resting his eyes on her jaw.  "How many times did you hear me tell Blaec I owed him one?"

"A few," she admitted.  "What does that have to do with this?"

"It's why I requested the transfer, Sal.  Blaec saved my life and set me up real good back in the day.  Without him, I'd probably be dead in the trenches somewhere, and I know it.  Thing is, no matter how many times I tried to pay him back, he only ever asked me for one thing."

"Ok?"

And his eyes flicked up to meet hers.  "To watch over you."  Then he lifted a hand, halting her before she could reply.  "Not only you, Salryc Luxx.  You, the Black Blades as a whole.  It's how he got me to start the Devil Dogs.  Told me it took more than one unit of freaks to change the world, but two could start a movement.  Sal, long ago, he promoted me so the Blades would have someone to watch their back.  Someone human he could trust."

"Look, I'm not going to say no," she assured him, "but don't you think this sets a bad precedent?"

He shook his head.  "No different than that guy you assigned to the Grauori.  Kinda like Ricown serving in the Shields.  Personally, I think it sets a real good one, but it's more than that.  I think every nation should include a unit of the others, but still.  Sal, you need us.  No matter what tricks you people can do, you still need some bodies to hold off the masses."

She took another deep breath, but Pig just smelled like Pig.  Then again, he'd learned a long time ago how to control his scent, no different than Zep or Ran.  Her gut said there was more to this, but he wasn't offering it up freely.

"What aren't you saying?" she finally asked.

He smiled, proving she was right.  "I'm saying there's a million reasons why this is a good idea, and not all of them are necessary for the Kaisae to know."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," he assured her.  "C'mon, Sal.  Does it really matter that I'm damned glad to be working with the Blades again?  Not really.  Makes sense to put the Dogs with the iliri.  You know it, I know it, and Dom knows it.  Shit, I'm sure Rragri would agree if you asked her.  We've always been more yours than theirs even if we are humans."

"But you're hiding something," she countered.

He nodded.  "Yep.  Same way I haven't told that new girl that she's hot.  Wouldn't help her none, wouldn't help me to get it out there, and sure as shit doesn't change the prophecy I got, so no one needs to know."  He lifted a brow, daring her to deny it.  "We both know you can dig in my brain if you wanna, but I promise, it's nothing bad."

All she could do was nod, accepting the truth of that.  After all, this was Pig.  "Ok.  Well, if you're sure this is what you want, then I'm glad to have you, Colonel."

He groaned but it was around a smile.  "Ran has taught you some seriously bad habits, kid, but I'll take the promotion.  Where's this set me in relation to Arctic?"

"He's a General, you're a Colonel, equal to Ilija."

"I'll take it."  And he tugged at his collar.  "Guess I need to find me some new rings, huh?"

"Yes, sir," Sal agreed.  "Or you can adopt the iliri habit of wearing none."

Without hesitation, he unpinned the insignia he wore and shoved it in his pocket.  "I like the way you beasts think.  Feels lighter already."

Sal tossed up her hands in surrender.  "Ok, if you're going to be my soldiers, then I have a job for the Dogs."

Those words worked the same on him as they always had on the Blades.  Sal had his immediate attention.  "Whatcha need?"

"I want to know what rumors are going around about the iliri.  Ours, theirs, I don't care, but something's up, and I don't like guessing."

He nodded.  "Can do.  Pretty sure half this base has forgotten how close the Dogs and Blades were."  Then he paused.  "You mind if I ask Ilija to let the Shields help out?"

"You can, but I think their accent makes them stand out too much," Sal told him.  "But sure.  My gut says there's something not right, and while we're all pretending this is one big vacation, things are building behind the scenes."

"Mm."  He glanced back to the women sparring.  "Know where the best gossip is in Fort Landing?"

"No?"

"The pubs."  Smiling, he looked at her quickly before returning his eyes to watch the women.  "I can think of three, possibly four women who can convince a man to spill his guts with a low cut shirt and the right smile.  Got at least five guys who can get the women distracted just as easily."

"Do it," she ordered.  "Pig, if you're mine, then that means you operate like an iliri.  Bend the rules as far as you can without breaking them, and I'll have your back every time."

"Blaec's rules," he said softly, nodding to show he understood.  "Can do, sir, but I'm gonna need something from you."

"Ok?"

"Tonight, I want all of Anglia to show that we're not stiff pricks.  The entire envoy should go to a pub, get trashed, and make a bit of a scene.  Convince the regular blues that we're not someone to be afraid of, but just normal people like they are."

"That," she assured him, "I can do."

"Good.  Now get Ray away from my new girl?  She's gonna scare the shit outta her."

Sal giggled.  "Sure, but have you considered that being scared might be what she needs?"  Patting his shoulder, she pushed away from the rail.  "Ray!"

"Hold," Rayna told the girl before looking back.  "Yeah?"

Sal lifted her hand in a silent request for the weapon.  Laughing, Rayna tossed it over.  The second Sal's hand caught the blade, she was in motion, heading right at the timid new Devil Dog.  "Guard!" she ordered.

For the first time, Keeya not only raised her weapon but leaned into it.  Sal hit her hard, but the girl's sword was there to block.  With a grunt, Keeya shoved back, refusing to give in before the woman who'd changed her life.  Sal just kept coming.

A swing at her side and Keeya bent.  One to her face and she ducked.  The first chance she got, she even counterattacked.  It was sloppy but determined, and that's all it took to improve.  As Sal danced around the girl's rigid stance, she darted a look over to Pig.  He was smiling.

Then, due to nothing more than sheer experience, Sal tapped Keeya on the back, ending the impromptu match.  "Good," she assured her.  "Soon as you learn some footwork, you'll move up to great."  Then she pointed at Pig.  "And he's the man to teach you.  Pretty sure he could still put me on my ass without trying."

"Nah," Pig called over, clearly listening in.  "I'd have to try a bit, but you'd end up flat out."  He gestured for Sal to toss over the weapon.  "Here's the secret, Keeya.  Humans are strong, iliri are fast.  To be the best, you gotta stop hating the parts of you that are lacking and learn to love what makes you special."

"But..."

He waved Sal back and took her place.  "No buts.  You'll never be an iliri anymore than I could, and trust me, I got damned close."  And he gestured for her to lift her sword again.  "So learn how to be what Sal needs, not what you wish you were.  Guard!"

Like Sal had, he moved in without warning, and just like she had before, Keeya met him with gusto.  Stepping back to give them room, Sal made her way to Rayna's side.  For a moment, the ladies watched the newest Devil Dog prove that she really did deserve to be an elite soldier.  She merely had to get over her inhibitions first.

"Pig's going easy on her," Rayna whispered.

Sal flicked an ear toward her.  "You might want to suggest that he have someone else train her if he's going to be distracted."

"Pig's never..."  Her head snapped over.  "No way!"

Yep, Sal thought, switching to her mind so she couldn't be overheard, Pig has a crush on the new girl.  He's trying to hide it, but so is she.  They both stink of it.

Rayna squealed softly, jumping in place.  Ok.  I'll suggest he passes her off.  Calban could probably –

Ryek, Sal thought before Rayna could finish.  She needs to learn how to work with Ryek.

To be an assassin?  Sal, Keeya's too timid to do that kind of work.

Sal shook her head.  No, Ray.  I can't explain it to you, but I can see these things.

What kind of things?

I dunno.  Like pushes and pulls, knots and ties between people, things like that.

Rayna's attention was now completely on Sal.  What does it look like?

It's not anything I can describe.  I mean...  She sighed.  Never mind.  I'm probably just starting to slip.

Oh no, you don't, Ray thought, grabbing Sal's arm and pulling until they faced each other.  Staring right in Sal's eyes, she continued, Don't you dare start second guessing yourself.  What does it look like, Sal?

Kinda like when someone focuses on something in a link.  It doesn't sparkle, and there's no lines or anything like that, but I can see that she's got a pattern and it needs to be pushed.

Then we'll push it, Rayna swore.  And if you have any more of these sensations, you tell someone, ok?  Stop thinking you're losing it and start believing that if any Kaisae could master this trick, it'll be you.  Even if you aren't strong enough...  She tipped her head but didn't break eye contact.  I expect my best friend to go down fighting.  Doesn't matter if that's to a sword or ayati.  If I can find the courage to become a Consort, then you can do this, Salryc Luxx.  Together, we'll prove everyone wrong.  We're not just stupid girls who won't amount to anything.  We're the ones that will kick some ass and take some names.  Do you hear me?

Before, Kolt had tried to reassure her.  Jase had sworn to follow her even into insanity.  Zep promised that it didn't matter.  But this?  Having Rayna push her like this sparked something primal that Sal couldn't ignore.  It forced back the fear that had been slowly growing since Blaec left her without anyone to lean on.  It made her feel like she wasn't the only one facing unfair odds.  Also, it proved she wasn't doing this alone.  She wasn't the only person forced into a position she didn't feel she deserved.

Most of all, that little comment about being strong enough made her mental changes into a challenge to overcome, and Sal had never learned how to back down from those.

Chapter 14

AFTER THE MORNING sparring with the Devil Dogs, Rayna had taken Sal to lunch.  They'd giggled a bit too much, eaten plenty, and Sal had been convinced to try something other than mead.  Just one glass, and Rayna swore it was iliri-friendly.  It wasn't.

But, it had been the catalyst that made Sal invite Rayna to accompany her to the War Room meeting that afternoon.  The Generals hadn't been pleased, but Rayna didn't care.  She bluntly informed them that according to Anglian law, she was the King's proxy, so if they had a problem with her, they therefore had a problem with him.  In the end, Ran had to smooth things over, but the two Anglian women got the information they needed.

And it was bad.  While Anglia had been pushing Terric back in Unav, the Terrans had been shifting south.  The CFC didn't have the bodies to hold them back anymore and were losing ground quickly.  Casualties had been not only high, but staggeringly so.  The one reason they hadn't been pushed back more was because the Terran army wouldn't leave the safety of the foothills.  That confirmed Sal's belief that the real battle would be in the south.  The Generals, naturally, didn't agree.

They tried to insist that the Emperor was moving his troops to the north, to the almost undefended border of Gallicor and west to Anglia.  The Conglomerate was too strong, they kept insisting, even though they were losing.  These men were convinced that their nation's reputation as a continental power would be all it took to hold off the Emperor of Terric.  He'd rather face soldiers with less training, they believed.

That only worked until Sal had demanded they explain the tactics from Makiel's point of view.  When she asked them what they would do if they were the leader of the Terran assault, silence fell across the room.  For the first time, they didn't have a ready answer to pad their wounded pride, and she could finally convince them to start talking about a real solution to the problem.

When she asked about strategies, they regurgitated the same old crap they'd been using two years before.  When she tried to bring up alternatives that had worked for her, these men shot them down using reasons like, "That's not how our men were trained," or, "If we let those scrubbers fight for themselves, they'd just run."  Beside her, Rayna was bristling at the unintentional insults, but Sal had expected nothing else.  It didn't matter.  She was still sowing the seeds in their minds.

But these things took time and had to be introduced gently.  To start, Sal looked over their true figures, memorizing the numbers for active soldiers, unit types, and available weapons.  In doing so, one thing became very clear.  The Conglomerate of Free Citizens might be even more antiquated in their thinking than Anglia had been.  Humans were treated as nobility and, all too often, the Generals commented about the makeup of a unit rather than its successes.  The purity of human lineage and the wealth of their families seemed to be all that mattered, even when those purebred rich boys were dying twice as fast as the unarmed mongrels sent in to die.

Across the room, Ran met her eyes.  He knew what she was thinking, probably because he'd thought it himself a few too many times.  The Conglomerate was losing because they weren't nearly as innovative as they wanted to pretend, and Sal intended to do something about that.

Tomorrow.  Tonight, she had a promise to keep.

Excusing herself as soon as she could, Sal bailed on the meeting.  While she and Rayna had been locked away in the War Room, it seemed Pig had informed the Anglian delegation that they were making a party of it.  Both ladies had been able to hear the chatter across their minds, but they'd tuned it out while they were working.  The rest of Anglia hadn't.  The moment Sal stepped into the rooms she was calling home this week, Jase and Zep steered her toward the bedroom.

"I have a job for you," Zep said.

Sal gave him a wary but playful look.  "Uh huh?"

"Anglia is hitting the town hard, and the Black Blades are on orders to avoid mead."

"Uh..."

Jase chuckled beside her.  "Pig wants ta see what we're like drunk."

Sal let her head drop.  "This is such a bad idea."

"And such a good one," Zep joked.  "Baby, your job is to go out, have fun, and stop being the Kaisae for a couple of hours.  We've decided you've earned it."

"Yeah, that sounds good and all, but I have numbers from the Generals to go through before our next meeting, and I need to put together a plan to – "

Jase cut her off.  "Ya'd like ta dance with me.  Ya'd like to pretend fer a bit that ya are na in charge."  Then he turned her to the bed where their packs lay open.  "And I think I've earned the right ta brag this time."

"Ok," she decided, giving in easily because his idea sounded like a lot more fun than hers.  "So everyone's going?"

"Yep," Zep said, kissing her again before easing around her.  "You're the last to get back.  I'll start a bath so you can get prettied up."

She turned to face Jase.  "What am I supposed to wear?"

He slid his arms around her waist to ease her shirt free.  "Na a uniform.  Anything else ya want."

"Don't start that without me," Zep yelled from the bathing room.

Jase chuckled, pressing his forehead against hers.  "I think that was ya, na me."

"I think you might be right," she agreed, knowing the boys were mostly teasing.  "But honestly, what impression do I want to give?"

"Do ya want the humans ta desire ya?  Do ya want ta look like a soldier?  Do ya want ta impress them?"  He shrugged.  "I can na say unless ya know."

She bit her lip, thinking.  "I want to look like an elite soldier, not a queen, and I'm definitely not trying to find any more men."

He smiled and nodded.  "Good, I do na want any more men.  Three is enough."

"Two," Sal reminded him.

"Syrik," Jase countered, kissing the end of her nose.  "He makes three, even if ya have na claimed him yet."

"What if I don't?" she asked.

He shrugged.  "Then ya do na.  Ya'll still play with him.  The pull is too strong."

"He works," Zep said, coming back out to sit on the edge of the bed. "It's ok, baby.  He fits with us."

"I was trying to decide what to wear," Sal told him, "not who to sleep with."

"Hanging out with your boys at a bar?" Zep asked, letting her change the subject.  Sal nodded, and he went on.  "So, sexy yet strong, not like you're trying to impress, but nice enough to keep up the Anglian image."  He smiled, glancing to Jase then back to Sal.  "Go shave your legs and I'll find something."

She rolled her eyes.  "I still don't shave!"

"Trust me," Zep assured her, "I know, but if you don't get in that tub, I'm going to end up tangled in this bed with the two of you and then we'll be late."

She laughed, reminding herself that she really did need a bath.  She'd been going constantly since early that morning, and a wet cloth did not compare to a long and luxurious soak.  Climbing into the tub, she scrubbed the dirt from her skin, feeling the hot water ease the weight on her shoulders.  Outside the room, her boys were planning something, but she tried not to eavesdrop on either their emotions or their voices.

When she finally was done, she found a clean pair of dark pants laid out across the bed, a form fitting white shirt beside it.  Her well-worn belt had been wiped clean and the sheaths for her daggers polished.  She focused on her appreciation – knowing her mates would feel it – and pulled on the clothes.  They were perfect.  Neither seductive nor weak, she looked like an elite and nothing more, exactly the impression she wanted to give.

Twisting her hair into a loose braid, she added a touch of cosmetics to her face and was buckling on her daggers when a tap came at the door to their suite.  Sal felt Jase answer it, so shoved her boots on and headed into the main room.  From a chair at the side, Zep glanced up and smiled, his eyes running over her body.

"Yep, that works," he said, setting his book on the table but not bothering to sit up.  "Sexy enough to make our kind snarl, not showing enough that Jase'll need to gut a human."

"Yeh," Jase huffed, sounding amused.  "Ya know I prefer ta go fer the throat."  Beside him, Kolt chuckled.

"Wait."  Sal realized Zep wasn't dressed up, and Kolt's arrival gave a clue why.  "You're not coming with us?"

Zep shook his head.  "Nah.  I'll be there in a bit, but I have something to do first.  Kolt will watch your right."

"What happened to enjoying a night out?"

He shrugged lazily.  "I intend to.  I just have something that'll take a few minutes."  He pulled himself forward to lean over his legs, reaching out to catch her hand.  "Promise, Sal.  I'll be no more than an hour behind you.  Let Kolt have some bragging rights for once."

She finally looked at the man leaning against the door.  Kolt wore a dusky green shirt and charcoal grey leather pants, similar to the Anglian colors.  Beside him, Jase wore his own casual outfit in shades of white and grey.  The drab colors made his deep blue eyes striking by comparison.  Both men were armed, but only with daggers.

And neither of them were in anything close to a uniform.  It felt almost surreal, but mostly because she'd gotten so used to seeing them in black.  Oddly, she kinda liked it.   Side by side, they looked like a normal pair of friends, but the kind that would make all the ladies stop and stare.  For a split second, she wondered if they'd intentionally picked out something to show off their overly trim and fit bodies.

What she tried not to do was think about how nice it was to have Kolt with her again.  Even seeing his boyish smirk made her want to smile in response.  After a full day without him, she was happy to see him, but she wasn't ready to fling herself at him or anything.  Not even with him leaning there looking like her daydreams come to life.  Her real mates didn't deserve that.

She didn't deserve that.

"It's ok," Zep told her gently, feeling her emotions as easily as she did.  He pulled himself from the couch to tilt her toward her dates for the night.  "One hour, then I'll buy you a drink.  Go have fun with your ahnor and your old friend.  And no mead, Sal.  If you aren't staggering tonight, then you aren't doing it right.  Promise?"

"I promise," she said, and he kissed her neck hard before giving her a little push toward them.

Kolt pulled open the door and gestured for both her and Jase to proceed.  "Ahnor."

The little man chuckled.  "Ya know ya can call me Jase, right?"

Kolt lifted a hand.  "In case you haven't figured it out yet, I kinda like my throat."

Jase shrugged.  "She does too.  Yer safe from me."  He caught Kolt's eye, but the larger man dropped his gaze immediately.  "And Arctic's orders were ta have a good time.  All of us," Jase assured him.

"Order still stands," Arctic said, walking up with Shade on his arm.  "The CFC needs to see that Anglia doesn't care what they think.  That, and I have the most beautiful woman in the world.  I want to show her off."

Shade bit her lip and looked down, trying to hide the smile.

"You good with this?" Sal asked.

"Yeah," she said, pushing back a thick lock of red curls.  "Karim said we could dance."

Arctic beamed at her.  "I did."  Then he raised his voice.  "Ghost, you can walk with us."

The pale boy chuckled as he pushed himself away from the door to his own room.  Sal couldn't help but notice that it was beside Arctic and Shade's.  She caught the Raewar's eye.

Arctic didn't wait for her to ask the question.  I know, demon.  I'm good with it, and he's what she needs.

He's also less threatening.  What will you do if she chooses him?

Won't remove the scars on my shoulder.

Sal flashed him a proud smile.  Congratulations, brother.  I take it this is a new thing?

New enough.  Arctic winked at Sal then smiled fondly at Shade, tilting his head up the street.  "Shall we?"

"Have room for one more?"  Tilso asked, stepping out of his own room.

Kolt nodded.  "Always, brother."  Then he offered his arm.  "May I?  If your mate won't mind."

Tilso blushed but accepted, making a display of feeling Kolt's bicep.  "Yeah, I can get used to this."

"Me too," Sal agreed.

For the first time in her life, she wouldn't be going to the pubs alone.  She also didn't need to worry about whether or not any humans liked it.  Lacing her fingers with Jase's, they led the Black Blades up the street.  Hopefully, this would work the way Pig wanted, because she had a funny feeling the CFC wasn't ready for their idea of fun.

Chapter 15

GEO AND RAZOR joined the party before they'd reached the end of the line of cabins.  Shift caught up last, fashionably late but dressed to impress.  As a pack, the Black Blades made their way into the center of Fort Landing, the guys clearly having a destination in mind.  Only Risk and Zep were missing.  The rest were in good spirits, laughing and joking when they reached the chosen pub.

Arctic marched in like he owned the place and soldiers moved out of his way, giving room for the rest to follow.  The music was a little too loud, the air a little too warm from the press of bodies, and the scent way too sweet, but somehow it felt right.  They hadn't gone far before they were spotted.  Pig waved them over with a shot of something in his hand.

"Come, drink," he yelled.

"Sal," Rayna squealed, rushing to her friend to wrap her in a hug.  "I'm buying you a drink!"

She grabbed Sal's hand and pulled, tugging her toward the bar.  Jase just laughed and let them go.  It didn't take long before the two girls were lost in the crowd.

Whatcha drinking? Rayna asked.

Sal shrugged.  Anything that isn't mead.  I'm on orders.

Ok.  Then my choice.

She gestured to the bartender and the man nodded.  In a few seconds, he pushed two small glasses across the bar, looking at Sal with unveiled curiosity.  Rayna ignored it and passed her the alcohol.  With a clink of their glasses, they both downed the bright red liquor.  When that was gone, Rayna ordered again and, this time, got a pair of real glasses filled with something spicy.

"So, rumor has it you're a fun drunk," she yelled at Sal over the noise of the crowd.

"Oh no," Sal told her.  "More than one of these and I'm trying to bite people."

Rayna grinned deviously.  "I wanna see that.  Considering that this afternoon you were barely even snippy, I think drunk Sal might even be fun.  You drink, I buy, and if things get ugly, we'll tear this place down."

"Not a good idea, Ray."

"What are they gonna do to us, Sal?  You keep thinking you have to behave, but you really don't."

She shrugged.  "I kinda do.  Our actions reflect back on our country and my species.  I start ripping people apart, and they're convinced we're animals."

Rayna pressed her lips together and leaned closer.  "You keep doing the same thing over and over, and expecting a different result.  The iliri have been meek and mild, and it hasn't helped.  A group of you went feral... and changed the entire fucking world.  Stop acting human.  You aren't my friend because you're just like everyone else."

Sal smiled and lifted her glass.  "It's worth a try.  Here's to tearing shit up."

"Fuck yeah," Rayna agreed, tapping her drink against Sal's.  Together, they tilted the glasses, guzzling until there was nothing left.  "Whoa," Rayna said.  "Potent!"

On the other side of the bar, the band had struck up a fast-paced and exciting song that begged to be danced to.  Rayna ordered two more drinks and pulled Sal behind her, leading her toward the dance floor.

"A little booze inside ya and a little sweat on your skin.  This, my friend, is the only thing I miss about the CFC."  Rayna swayed to the music as she sipped at her drink.  "Cmon, girl.  I wanna see you keep up!"

Sal joined in, feeling the liquor starting to have an effect.  A smile was on her lips, and she couldn't quite wipe it off.  By the time she was halfway through the second glass, they'd gone from swaying to shaking, jumping, and laughing.  Clearly, she was past tipsy and very much into drunk, but she didn't care.  The two of them danced their hearts out, moving without any grace or rhythm, merely enjoying the freedom to be as silly as they wanted.

Rayna twirled in a circle and staggered, stumbling into a broad-shouldered man.  He turned, a scowl on his face, but smiled as soon as he realized who'd hit him.

"Well, nice to meet you," he said, reaching out to steady her.

Rayna glanced at Sal and grinned before turning back to him.  "Hello, handsome.  What do you do?"

"Heavy cavalry.  You a soldier?"

She nodded, but there was a bit too much of her body included with the motion.  "Sure am.  Heavy lancer from Anglia."  Lifting her glass, she swallowed the last trickle.  "Maybe I should buy you a drink."

The man chuckled.  "Doesn't work like that.  What are you having?"

"I have no idea," Rayna told him.  "I've been sampling."

"Then I'm sure I can find something you'll like.  I'll be right back."

He wandered toward the bar, and Rayna turned to Sal, suddenly looking a lot more sober.  "Your turn."

"Oh no," Sal told her, unable to stop giggling.  "Doesn't work like that for me!"

"Could," a voice said beside her.

Sal turned and found herself chest to chest with a well-built man who had the most brilliant blue eyes.  He smiled, showing two rows of canines with very sharp points and made no effort to hide the fact that he was looking her over.  His eyes, however, never quite went all the way up to hers.

"You clearly aren't from around here," he purred, moving closer but never touching.  "Let me buy you a drink as a welcome to the Conglomerate."

Rayna squealed behind her, grabbing Sal's shoulders to shake her in congratulations.  In the back of her mind, Sal knew she should be mortified at Rayna's enthusiasm, but she couldn't quite make herself care.  Her best friend was right.  This was kinda fun.  Not that she had any interest in the guy, but the last time she'd been here, he wouldn't have even talked to her.  It kinda felt good.

Which meant it was exactly what she was supposed to do.  Sal bobbed her head in agreement.  "Sure."

"Anything special?"

"Not mead!"

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "That, I think I can do."  Inhaling her scent, he smiled and turned away.  Twice, he glanced back at her before blending into the crowd.

"See," Rayna said.  "Now wasn't that easy?"

"Still not looking for any men," Sal reminded her, but it wasn't as forceful as she'd intended.

"You don't have to be looking.  We're here to have fun, make friends, and enjoy being bad girls for the rest of the night.  Nothing wrong with that.  And if you can't wrap that little white head around the idea of a good time, just remind yourself that they'll believe in you more if they've talked to you.  There's thousands of iliri in the CFC."  Her look dared Sal to deny it.

"There are," Rayna's soldier said, returning with her drink.  "See if you like that.  It's a local favorite."  When Rayna took a drink, he kept going, all but ignoring Sal's presence.  "So, should I ask your rank, or just call you sir on principle?"

Rayna giggled.  "Either will do."  Then she took another sip.

"Then what's your rank, beautiful?"

One last gulp went in before she answered.  "Captain.  Just got it last week."

"Well congratulations, Captain."  He turned to Sal, but his smile was false.  "How about you?  Private, or did you get to First Class?"

The two ladies laughed, both shaking their heads.  "We don't do ranks anymore," Sal told him, not wanting to make a scene.

"C'mon, even foreign militaries have to have ranks," the guy persisted.

"Call her sir," Rayna suggested.

That's when the iliri soldier returned, his eyes flicking toward the man talking to Rayna and Sal.  Pointedly, he lifted Sal's glass and took a small sip before passing it to her.  "Go easy.  This will put you on the floor."

"What is it?" she asked.

"Licorice liqueur.  Most of us like it."  His eyes jumped back to the human.

"Seriously," Rayna's soldier interrupted, pushing between Sal and her new friend.  "What's your rank?  Need to know if I should salute a scrubber."  He acted like the answer should be a very good joke.  Clearly, the girls weren't the only ones who'd had a few too many.

Sal sipped at the drink, trying to decide if she should worry about feeling so tipsy.  "The last rank insignia I wore was Lieutenant.  Does that help?"

The human soldier laughed, thinking it was a joke.  "Sure.  Whatever.  Still not gonna get me to salute you."

"Not tonight," Sal agreed.  "Maybe tomorrow."

The iliri man moved a step closer, effectively placing his body between hers and that of the human.  "So I guess that means you won't be upset at talking to a Private?"

She tapped his chest.  "They haven't even made you a Specialist yet?"

He shook his head.  "Doesn't work like that, sir.  Not for me."

"It should, and no need for the sirs."  Sal shrugged.

Once more, he checked on the man who'd attached himself to Rayna.  "Little more space over there if you wanted to get back to the dancing."  The look on his face suggested something, but Sal couldn't quite make it out and, in a room this crowded, there was no way she'd smell it on him.

But he seemed harmless, so she decided to go.  Rayna was already talking to a guy on her other side, trying to give the first man the brush off, but it didn't look like it was working.  The annoying human had no intention of losing his pretty woman to anyone else.  That didn't mean her friend was oblivious to Sal moving away.  Catching Sal's eye, she tipped her head slightly to show she'd seen, but that was enough.

Another mind brushed against Sal's, letting her know she still had friends close.  It wasn't much, but the iliri who'd bought her drink twitched in place.  His eyes narrowed for a moment then darted to the side, hitting three places before they came back to her.

"So do you dance up there in Anglia?" he asked, his voice sounding completely casual.

"You figured out where I'm from?"

He cocked his head slightly and smiled.  "Big envoy just rode in.  You're clearly not from around here.  Trust me, I think the whole base would notice if there was a purebred in the ranks.  And the human treating you like her pal?  Dead giveaways."

"Well, you're right, and yes, we do dance up in Anglia, but it's a lot more stuffy."

"Then," he said, "I'll have to – " He stopped, his eyes flicking over her shoulder.

Sal smiled, knowing exactly what had interrupted his thought.  When Shift patted her shoulder, she didn't even flick an ear.  Slowly, her new friend moved his eyes from one throat to the other.

"Yeah, it says what you think," Shift told him.  "He botherin' ya, bro?"

"Nope," Sal assured him.  "He bought me a drink."

Shift nodded, but his eyes were on the Conglomerate iliri.  "Word to the wise, there's prolly about twenty of us in here.  Two of them tend to get jealous.  I'd keep my hands off."

The Private didn't blink.  Instead, he stepped closer, dropping his voice.  "I know what the scent of hope means.  There's about twenty of us in here, too, and we're on the same fucking side."

Shift grinned.  "Twenty, huh?  Good to know.  I only counted sixteen."

The iliri's breath fell out as he realized what he'd just done.  "I didn't see that coming."

"Never do.  That's why we're the best.  Good job getting her away from the idiot, though.  Means you get to keep dancing, ilus."

His head twitched over to Sal.  "We don't use that word here."

"You will.  I'm sick and tired of hiding, and I don't really care if the humans like me anymore."

"Good."  He flashed her a smile before looking back to Shift.  "My intentions are nothing but respectful, sir.  I promise."

Shift leaned toward his ear, but Sal could still hear, even over the music.  "Not really worried about you.  You wouldn't even touch her skin before you were dead.  And if you did?  She'd kill ya."  Then he smiled down at Sal.  "Have fun but don't make Jase jealous enough to bite him.  His friends seem rather organized."

As Shift slipped back into the crowd, Rayna leaned over the poor iliri's other shoulder.  "You fell right into that, ilus."  He spun to face her, shocked to find her smile nothing more than honest.

"Into what?" asked the man who still wouldn't leave her alone, trying his hardest to get in on the conversation.

"My friend's amazing ability to pick 'em."  Rayna rolled her eyes.  "Now trust me, you don't wanna know what kinda shit they get into on their free time.  Why don't you go play with yourself or something?  The girls are trying to have fun tonight."

The iliri who'd befriended Sal shifted so his body was between hers and Rayna's unfortunate companion.  "He's not safe."  His words were too soft for any human to hear over the crowd.

Nodding, she reached out for Rayna's mind.  Buy me a couple of seconds?

Can do.  You trust your friend?

Yes, Sal assured her.  He put his own body in the path of danger.  I think he's safe enough for now.

Then I got this.  Find a brother.

With that, Sal allowed the Conglomerate iliri to guide her to the other side of the dance floor.  As soon as they were out of the crush of bodies, he offered his hand, palm up.  "Orys Jaxal, Kaisae."

She laid hers in it without hesitation.  Flashes of warnings flickered into her mind.  The man with Rayna wasn't simply annoying, he was one of the members of an extremist group.  They were the reason the iliri had been practicing on the armory lawn.

"I understand," she said as she released the contact.  "What do I need to know?"

"They call themselves the True Soldiers.  We call ourselves the Second Soldiers just to spite them.  From what we can tell, there's roughly one hundred of them, give or take, and they're convinced that we're the reason Terric is fighting so hard to take the CFC."

Sal shook her head.  "And they're not completely wrong."  His head snapped up in shock, but she kept going.  "Makiel wants to kill the iliri because there's no way the humans can stop him.  If they do his work for him?  This is how he works, Orys.  He twists his enemy until they make it easy for him to become the hero."

"Fuck," Orys breathed.  "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to change the rules," Sal assured him.  "This is my war.  Parliament agrees that this is my army now.  Tell the iliri, ilus.  Tell all of them that their Kaisae will not sacrifice the one weapon that can defeat the Emperor.  Instead, I'm going to show humans why we've never been truly beaten."

He bowed his head.  "I swear, Kaisae."  But a smile was taking over his face.  "I think your brothers miss you."

A split second later, a hand slipped around her waist.  Sal didn't even need to look to know her cessivi had found her.  Leaning back, she smiled up at Jase.  "This one is more than just a brother.  He's the love of my life."

"And ya," Jase said sweetly, "owe me some attention."

Sal glanced back into his twilight blue eyes.  "Jealous?"

The smile that took over his face was all she was going to get, but it was enough.  It also looked really good on him.

Chapter 16

"I THOUGHT YA did na want any more men," Jase said into her ear, clearly amused.

Sal flicked the soft skin away from the tickle from his breath.  "I wasn't flirting."

"She wasn't," Orys assured him.  "Sir, I was just trying to make sure she knew the risks."

Jase leaned over her shoulder to meet her eyes.  How much have ya had to drink?

Enough to feel very warm, but not enough to get stupid.

Then ya have na had enough.  Yer s'posed ta be playing t'night.

Sal rolled her eyes.  I was, and my friend bought me a drink.  She lifted it to prove she had yet to drink it.

"A welcome present," Orys insisted, unable to hear their mental conversation.

Jase laughed and slapped the man's shoulder gently.  "Yer fine, ilus.  She a'ready told me."

That made his head snap back up.  "But –"

Jase tapped his head.  "We are na like the iliri here.  We do na hide, and our country does na enslave us fer what we can do.  They decorate and revere us."

"Damn."  Orys nodded and stepped back.  "Then I guess I don't need to tell you what I told her, huh?  If either of you have questions, your liaison can find me.  Have a good evening, Kaisae."

When he turned to leave, Sal caught a whiff of his scent.  Fear lingered in it, but so did pride.  "I think you scared my new friend," she teased Jase.

Gesturing for her to finish her drink, he nodded.  "Good.  I did na want him ta buy all yer fun.  I thought ya might spend a little time with me."  Then he offered his arm.  "Can I get ya a drink, kitten?"

She didn't bother answering.  Wrapping her arm through his, Sal allowed herself to appreciate the love of her life.  Well, the first one.  He was right, he didn't deserve to always be pushed into handling the hard jobs because she trusted him.  Sometimes, he deserved a little of her attention, and she needed so much of his.  Lately, it seemed like everything else had come first.

Proudly, Jase guided both of them toward the massive bar at the back of the dance area.  At the side was an open spot.  Claiming it, Jase gestured for a pair of drinks, but the bartender ignored him, moving to a darker skinned man farther down.  Jase glared, the corner of his lip lifting slightly, then a bottle appeared on the counter before him.

"They may not serve iliri, but I will," Kolt said, moving to Jase's side.

"Hey!" the bartender yelled.  "You trying to steal that?"

Pig moved to their other side.  "You trying to make a scene?"

"Major," the bartender gasped, seeing the insignia sewn onto his shirt.  "Sir, the scrubbers – "

"Colonel," Pig corrected, "and just stop."  His jaw was clenched.  Trying to keep his calm, he turned to Sal and Jase.  "Is it always like this?"

"Pretty much," Sal said.  Jase slowly nodded.

Pig gestured for the bartender to come closer.  "The ruling family of Anglia has diplomatic immunity, did you know that?"

"No, sir."

"Yeah.  That means these pale-skinned fuckers could carve you up for dinner and eat you right here on the counter, and there's not a damned thing the CFC could do to stop them."

The man chuckled and leaned even closer, his hands on the bar.  "Too many Conglomerate soldiers in here.  Would never happen."

"It would," Pig assured him.  "If my little friends decided they wanted to, they could destroy this whole town with only one of the three units we brought."  Then, before the man could even react, Pig slammed a ceramic dagger into the counter between the guy's fingers.  "The other two?  We humans'd just skin you and let the iliri and grauori fight over the meat.  Parliament begged us so hard they gave us immunity to your stupid laws.  Now try that again because I'm the least scary motherfucker of this group right here.  I think my friends wanted a drink."

The man jiggled his head in something that looked like a nod.  "I'm sorry," he swore.  "Can I..."  He swallowed.  "Can I get you something?"

Jase lifted his chin.  "Make us something impressive so I can prove ta my girl that I do na always have ta kill someone ta have fun."

"Yes, sir," he said, bobbing his head.  "On the house tonight, sir."

Pig breathed out his frustrations in a nearly iliri-like growl.  "Cyno, I don't know how the fuck you do it, man."

Jase smiled honestly at that.  "Ya get used ta it."

"You shouldn't have to.  Dogs have your back."  Pig clasped his shoulder and smiled at Sal, then faded back into the crowd.

Beside them, Kolt breathed out his own frustration.  "Reach for me if that happens again, babe.  Burn me out if you need to."  He caught Jase's eye, dropping his gaze in a show of respect before he followed in Pig's footsteps.

The bartender returned with a pair of multicolored drinks.  Sal took one and Jase the other.  The man didn't stick around long enough for them to even say thank you, which was probably for the best.  The subtle hate so prevalent in the Conglomerate kept reminding her how desperate she'd felt when she'd lived here.

"You know, it's better when you're with me."  She gestured around the packed pub.  "So many times, I came to a place like this wishing I could find someone like me, and now I realize they're all around me, all trying to do the exact same thing."

"And ya are showing them there is na a thing wrong with being proud of what they are.  Ya are showing them that we do na have to care what humans think."  He lifted his glass for a healthy drink.  "And that is why I let Pig stand up fer me, ta show that Anglians will.  Now come dance with me, cessivi?  Let our people see the beauty of their Kaisae."

"Gladly," she whispered as the music changed to something a bit slower and a warmth grew in her mind.  She giggled.  "Zep's here, and I think he did that."

"Yeh.  Told him I wanted something ta let me get my hands on ya."

"Prove it," she said, stepping into his chest.

Jase wrapped his arm around her, holding his drink in the other, and leaned closer.  Slowly, his teeth slid along the side of her neck until she gave in.  "Over and over," he swore.  "As often as ya wish."

***

Together, Sal and Jase moved onto the dance floor, ignoring the glares from humans as they let their bodies move to the music.  Beside them, Pig danced with Meia, both Devil Dogs within range to assist if she needed it.  From the balcony above, Kolt's eyes scanned the crowd for any movement that seemed out of place.  In the packed room, he couldn't smell Zep approach, but the glass of whiskey offered by his shoulder told him who it was without looking.

"I could watch them all night long," Zep said.

Kolt nodded.  "Me too.  Bartender was a dick."

"Not shocked.  She's having fun, though, and Jase is ok with it.  They're used to it."

"Shouldn't be."

"No," Zep agreed.  "But they are, so their night isn't ruined.  I got their back if you wanna go have some fun."

"I'm good," Kolt said, unable to take his eyes off Sal.

Zep chuckled, making it clear that he saw right through Kolt's feeble excuse.  Not that it mattered.  They both knew Kolt was addicted to the sight of her.  To him, this was what he considered fun.  Seeing the woman of his dreams enjoying herself with someone she cared about was pretty much the definition of that.

Unfortunately, Zep wouldn't let him off so easy.  "She loves to dance, you know.  Makes her feel beautiful.  You should ask her."

Kolt sighed and shook his head.  "No.  I'll laugh with her, I'll fight with her, but I can't dance with her."

"Never learned?"

"Oh, I know how."  Kolt shrugged.  "I also know what she used to do.  I'll never ask her to do that for me."

"It's not the same," Zep assured him.  "Her dancing for you and her dancing with you are not the same at all."

"Maybe for you, but I got too close."  He looked up, meeting Zep's eyes.  "I never want to make her remember."

"You also can't make her forget."  Zep pushed his hand across his mouth then sighed.  "Syrik, man, she's fine.  She doesn't think of you like that."  Kolt took a long drink, then pushed himself away from the rail, but before he could leave, Zep grabbed him.  "If you treat her like damaged goods, she won't thank you for it."

Kolt froze.  "That's not what I meant."

"I know, but it's what she'll think.  Just fucking dance with her?"

"Why?" Kolt asked.  "Why won't you leave things alone between us?"

A smile crawled across Zep's face.  "Because you make her dream of the impossible.  You ask for nothing and give her everything, but that's not how a pack works.  It's not supposed to be one sided."  He tilted his head slightly.  "That, and I'm getting tired of these sudden urges to jump your bones.  Pretty sure they aren't from Jase."  He gestured to Kolt's glass.  "Bro, I'm saying we're fine with you.  Just treat her like she deserves."

Obediently, Kolt drank, swallowing the whiskey in a single gulp.  "Fuck," he breathed.  "That's what you're picking up from her?  Seriously?"

"Seriously.  So think that through for a while before you try to run away from her again."  Zep held up his hand, ordering another round.  "How much of this have you had?"

"Not enough."

"Me either."

When the girl arrived, Zep ordered a bottle, daring Kolt to keep up.  It didn't take much before his breeding began to show and Kolt's eyes were glazed.  Zep ordered yet another, but this time he kept it to himself.  Eventually, Jase joined the pair, leaving Sal dancing with Risk on the floor below.  From the feral grin on his face, the little assassin was obviously drunk, and Zep wasn't far behind.  Kolt had them both beat.  The only reason he was still on his feet was because the railing was holding him up.  That made Jase even more amused.

Unfortunately, they were also right where everyone could see them.  "Enik Kolton?" a man asked, walking up.

"Syrik," Kolt mumbled.

"What the fuck, man?  Thought you were on assignment?"

Kolt waved that off.  "Nah.  Mission changed.  Go away, Garvis, I'm drunk."

"I see that," Garvis said.  "And hanging out with..." he looked over Jase pointedly, "some new friends."

"That's my brother," Kolt said, then pointed to Zep, "and that's my other brother."

Zep chuckled and turned to face the man.  "Valcor Zepyr, Dernor, Black Blades.  My little brother, Jassant Cynortas, also of the Blades.  Obviously, you know Kolt."

"Yeah.  We served together before he joined Star Fall."  He grabbed Kolt's shoulder.  "Seriously, man, you're back?"

"Just passin' through."

"Well, you should go see Sindra.  She swore she saw you, and she dumped that dick."  Garvis chuckled.  "Wouldn't take much to get a welcome home from her, if ya know what I mean."

"I got a better fuckin' offer."  Kolt pushed through the man, making his way down the stairs.

Jase laughed, grabbing Zep's drink to steal a swallow.  "I'm fuckin' drunk, bro, but even I know what he's gonna do."

"What?" Garvis asked.

Zep took his drink back.  "Ask the prettiest woman in the bar to dance.  Just needed someone to feed him a little liquid courage."

"Yeah, he's been chasing Sindra for a while, but we all thought she was gonna marry that jerk."  Garvis shook his head.  "Kolt always went after the ones that weren't available."

"So they would na say yes," Jase muttered.

"What?"

Zep laughed, well aware that the human had no clue what was going on.  Kolt hadn't told him he'd defected and it wasn't anyone else's story to share.  Instead, the two Blades looked over the rail, watching their newest brother walk right up to Sal.  He patted Razor's shoulder and cut in.  Even drunk, he could still keep his balance, and in two steps, the pair were moving fluidly.

"Oh shit," Garvis hissed, looking at Jase.  "No offense, but that's... oh shit.  He's gonna regret that in the morning!"

Jase flashed a grin at Zep but said nothing.  He didn't need to.  The wave of pride and amusement still leaked into Zep's mind.

"Shit!" Garvis hissed again, scurrying down the stairs.

"He will na regret it," Jase told his big brother.  "That Ace might if he tries ta get in the way."

"Oh, he'll try," Zep said.  "Kolt played his part a little too well."

"Yeh.  Infiltration."  Jase nodded.  "I did na know he was so good at it."

"Think he'll do?"

"Yeh.  He'll do jus' fine."

Chapter 17

SAL HAD CONSUMED enough alcohol to make her world nice and blurry around the edges.  Razor stood behind her, his hands on her waist as they rocked to the thrumming music.  Every chance he could, he spun her around as he hummed to the song.  It made her giggle.  It also made it really difficult to focus.

But when the hold on her body became a little more personal and the scent of a coming storm wafted in from behind her, she knew her partner had changed.  Her brothers had been taking their turns, but they usually swapped out with the music.  Kolt had just cut in.

She turned to face him, blinking her eyes to focus on his face.  "Where'd you come from?"

He tilted his head to the second floor.  "Trying to escape my past."

"Mm."  She tossed her arms around his neck.  "But maybe your past wants to dance a little more."

Kolt chuckled.  "Wrong past, Sal.  I meant the one that thinks I'm human, not the one giving me all the dirty thoughts."

She felt him tense as the words came out, and glanced over her shoulder.  Finding nothing, she pulled her eyes back to his face.  "What?"

"I just..."  He sighed.  "Babe, talking about you and dancing makes me worry that I've crossed the line."

Shaking her head, she refused to let him stop moving.  "I love dancing!  When I was a slave, it was my weapon, crumbling the minds of those humans.  Like a mercenary," she tried to explain.  "And I got paid in meat.  It's the one thing I've always been good at."

"And that it turns me on?" he asked, dropping his voice.

"Why do you think I like it?"  She smiled, letting her head fall back.  "It took me a year with the Black Blades before I figured out my ears really are cute.  Little longer before I stopped wanting to make my nose curve the other way."  She stepped out of his arms, twirled, staggered, and pushed herself right back where she'd started.  "And I still like it when someone thinks I'm not ugly."

"You're not ugly," he swore.  "You're more beautiful than any other Kaisae I've ever seen."

She slowed, her ears flicking up as she gave him her complete attention.  "Seen a lot?"

"A few," he admitted.  "Didn't spend a lot of time thinking about kissing any of the others."

Even with the haze in her mind, that made it through.  Sal no longer had any interest in dancing.  She couldn't think about moving her body and what he was saying.  "So why haven't you?"

He carefully pushed her hair back over her shoulder, bending closer as he did it.  "Because the timing was bad.  Because you deserve a hell of a lot more than what I can give you.  Because no matter how long I've played human, it still feels weird to make the first move.  I dunno.  Take your pick?"

"I – "

But she didn't get the chance to finish.  A tall brunette with voluptuous curves called out, "Kolt!" as she waded onto the dance floor, heading right toward them.  A Conglomerate soldier trailed behind her.

"Fuck," Kolt breathed, pulling Sal behind him.  "And now my past has caught up with me."

The woman tossed a chilling glare at Sal.  "Friend of yours?"

"Yeah."  He lifted his chin.  "And we were having a nice little moment, so if you don't mind?"

Sal wanted to speak up, but she didn't.  Even in her drunken state, she knew she shouldn't.  This wasn't her story.  He deserved the right to settle things the way he wanted – even if that woman was making her instincts scream.  Clenching her jaw, Sal fought back the growl tickling her throat as she tried to think through the alcohol.

The guy clasped Kolt's arm.  "Dude, you're drunk."

"Not that drunk, Garvis.  In case you missed it," he tapped at his throat, "I'm no longer in Star Fall.  Joined the Black Blades."

"Wait."  Garvis looked from Kolt to Sal twice, trying to wrap his mind around that.  "But they're..."  He cleared his throat.  "Anglians."

"Me, too.  Now."

The woman huffed.  "And you weren't going to tell me?"

"Hadn't planned on it."  He made a shooing motion.  "Go away, Sindra, I'm busy."

"Kolt," Garvis hissed, "you're dancing with an iliri!"

"Ya think?"  He reached back to lace his fingers in Sal's but kept her behind him.

Sindra saw.  "Hey bitch," she snapped, pushing at Sal's shoulder.  "Go use your tricks on your own kind."

The alcohol, the glares that had been tossed her way all night, the blatant insults from so many humans, and the woman daring to think she had a chance with Sal's man – it was too much.  Her ears flicked against her skull, and Sal surged back into the woman's face even as Kolt tried to push the brunette away.

"I did," Sal growled.  "I found him again, and you cannot have him!"

"Sindra..." Kolt tried, but neither woman was listening.

"Yeah?  You think you're good enough for him?"  The human grabbed Kolt's arm, tugging him toward her.

He cast a desperate look back to Sal, unable to do anything more.  As an iliri, he didn't dare make a scene, and as a man, he couldn't simply shove the woman away.  Sal knew this.  For most of her life, being submissive to humans had been drilled into her, but tonight it was too much for her to ignore.

Seeing another woman touch the man she'd spent years looking for was wrong.  Every protective instinct in her body was raging out of control, demanding that she do something.  With her head spinning from too much drink and her iliri nature driving her, only one thing mattered: he was supposed to be hers.

Wrenching him free of Sindra's grasp was easy.  Putting her body between them, she turned into Kolt's chest, one hand tangling in the hair at the back of his head.  Without asking permission, without caring what he thought, she stepped into him and sank her teeth deep into the base of his neck, piercing the muscle over his shoulder.  You are mine.

"Sal," he breathed, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her closer.

"She bit him!"

Kolt ignored everything but the woman in his arms, bending his mouth to her ear.  "Oh, Sal," he whispered.

Pulling her teeth free, she nipped at him once more, gently, then pulled back to find his amber eyes.  "You are mine, Syrik."

He kissed her.  Cradling her face, his mouth crushed against hers, forcing her teeth apart to give his tongue access.  His arm pinned her body against his solid chest, and he kissed her like he needed her touch to survive.  There, on the dance floor, Sal knew that everyone could see, and she loved it.  She no longer had anything to hide, and she didn't care at all what those humans thought.

Until she was yanked from his arms.  "Get off him!" Sindra yelled, jerking Sal toward the floor.

She staggered, but Garvis was pulling Kolt away.  No matter how Kolt tried to shake off his hold, the human refused to let go.  He was saying something about iliri tricks and Kolt's mind being fucked with, but Kolt wasn't the kind of man to be helpless.  Clenching his hand into a fist, he swung, catching the human right across the face.

The music stopped.

Someone yelled.

The man hit the ground.

From all around them, the sound of resin on leather filled the tense silence.  A deep rumbling became a dangerous compliment as the iliri identified the threat and began to growl.  With their eyes locked on the pair who had accosted their pack mates, the Black Blades moved in even as the crowd pushed back.  But not all.  Not the Anglians.  They seemed to be the only humans in the eerily still pub who weren't intimidated by the iliri growls coming from more throats than just the Blades.  Them, and a small group of CFC iliri conscripts with their eyes locked on the Kaisae.

"Touch my mate again," Sal snarled, "and I will kill you.  We are not your pets."

Arctic stepped forward, falling in at Sal's side.  "The Kaisae has claimed him."  His voice was pitched to carry, but calm.  The ceramic daggers in his hands made all the statement he needed.  "Stay away from my brother."

From the railing above came a chuckle.  Zep looked down, completely amused.  "Hey, Garvis?  Those lines on our necks?"  He tapped the side of his throat.  "That means we're scrubbers.  Everyone wearing them, no matter how dark our skin is.  Thing is, there's never just one of us, and we have a whole country backing us up."

Shade moved to Sal's other side, her eyes on Sindra.  "He's pretty, huh?  You think you're good enough for him, huh?"  She glared, taking a step with each question, her mismatched eyes unwavering.  "Well, you're wrong.  If you want to live to keep hating us, then you need to get somewhere I can't fucking see you."

"Don't, Shade," Sal insisted, scrubbing at her face.  "I'm drunk; she's fine."

"She's not fine!" Shade turned to her Kaisae, pointing at Sindra with a dagger.  "He does not belong to her!  He's ours, not hers!"

Kolt chuckled and moved toward the angry redhead.  "This isn't Unav, little one.  The humans don't know any better.  You can't kill them because they're stupid."

Sindra stared, wide-eyed, her mouth hanging open.  "You're going to let them talk like they own you?"

"Yeah," Kolt replied, gently clasping Shade's shoulders to turn her toward him.  "Let her live.  She made a mistake, but it's not worth dying for."  He guided her toward Arctic before looking at the human.  "We iliri do things differently.  To be protected by a woman is..." he glanced back at Sal, "flattering."

"She wasn't protecting you, she was trying to attack you!"

"Claim," he corrected.  "And I could only be so lucky, but Sal's drunk."

That's when the front door slammed open.  Ran Sturmgren stormed in, trying to look like he hadn't run halfway across the compound and almost succeeding.  Almost.  His heavy breathing ruined the image.

"Party's over!" he ordered.  "Anglia?"

Sal groaned.  "I'm drunk, sadava, but haven't killed anyone."

Ran let out a tense breath then walked toward her voice.  "What the fuck is going on?"

"Ace tried to grab my brother," she explained.

Arctic chuckled.  "That's the story you're going with, demon?"

She nodded.

Ran's eyes fell on each of the Black Blades.  "Whichever one of you thought this was a good idea needs to think again."

"Tha' was me," Jase called down from the balcony.  "Sorry, Gavwor."

Ran shot Jase a confused look.  "What did you call me, Cyno?"

He grinned, his own eyes glazed.  "Gavwor"

Kolt stepped to Ran's side and whispered in his ear, "Father-in-law, basically."

Ran tried not to smile but couldn't keep his face completely stoic.  Instead he nodded at Jase before looking to the rest, asking, "Is there a single Black Blade that isn't drunk?"

"Not completely," Zep said.  "Takes me a bit more than them.  Feelin' pretty good though, sir."

Ran rubbed at his forehead, dragging his hand down over one side of his face.  "Where are the Shields and Dogs?"

Pig moved to Zep's side and leaned over the railing.  "We're around.  Dom's making out with his consort up here.  Whatcha need?"

"I need you to make sure the Blades don't kill anyone."

Pig laughed.  "General, this is fuckin' Anglia.  Ain't no one telling the iliri what to do – cept the iliri."

That caused a rush of whispers to spread across the crowd.  Ran nodded, his eyes flicking to Jase.  The little man dropped his gaze respectfully.  It was the last bit of encouragement the General needed.  Taking a step forward, Ran pulled in a deep breath and began issuing orders.  "Someone put the Kaisae to bed.  I don't care which bed, but I want her ass sober by the morning.  Am I understood?"

His words pulled the Blades to attention.  Their heads lifted and their demeanor became serious, even as their intoxicated smiles stayed.  Arctic called out crisply, "You heard the man.  Kolt, you're with the Kaisae.  Zep, deal with Cyno – make sure he doesn't eat anyone.  Geo, Razor, Shift, remove those humans from her sight.  The rest of you, watch her back.  Shade, you're with me."

The iliri began to move, but Rayna's giggles drew eyes back to the second floor where Dom had taken Zep's place.  "Orders, Raewar?" he asked.  Rayna leaned over his shoulder, trailing her fingers down his neck, laughing every time he twitched from the touch.

Arctic smiled coolly.  "Party's moving to our place.  You can bring the liquor."

"That I can fuckin' do," Dom agreed.

"You heard the King," Ilija called out, trying hard to sound serious.  "Shields, grab a bottle, maybe two."  He chuckled.  "Make it four.  And no mead or rum.  Wanna see those little fucks puking before the night's out."

The Blades were moving to the door, but Zep paused.  "You drunk Ilija?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Can you still kill a man?"

Ilija grinned.  "Oh yeah, Zep.  More than one.  We're good."

The iliri began to file out of the pub when Shift turned and yelled.  "Party's at our cabins.  Scrubbers and scrubber lovers are always welcome!  All the rest of you?  Stay home!"

A few people cheered and the crowd began to mill, returning to its normal state.  Kolt smiled sweetly at Sal and gestured to the door.  Her eyes flicked to the fresh wounds along his neck and shoulder, but she went.  Fluidly, he fell into step on her right but this time, he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her to his side.  Together, the pair staggered out of the pub.

That left the Devil Dogs as the last ones to leave.  Pig eyed the crowd, pausing when he spotted his brand new recruit.  Crooking a finger, he called her to his side.  "I want you to stay close to me for the rest of the night, Keeya."

Her eyes got wide.  "Sir?"

He chuckled.  "Sal just rubbed a whole lot of folks the wrong way, kid, and I haven't assigned you a partner.  How drunk are you?"

She bit at her lip and shook her head.  "I'm not, sir."

He leaned over to look right in her face.  "And why not?  You're allowed, you know."

She grimaced.  "I didn't want to give the wrong impression, being so new and all."

He grabbed her shoulders and turned her for the door.  "Well, then I think I've decided on your second lesson as a Dog.  How to hold your alcohol.  Gotta make sure that even if you're stupid drunk, you can make as big of a fool out of yourself as the rest of us."  He gestured for his men to head out.  "We're not done celebrating, men.  Let's go make the most of our return to the CFC!  Looks like we're already starting out on the right foot."

Chapter 18

BEFORE JASE COULD LEAVE, Ran grabbed his arm, touching his bare wrist.  The little assassin turned, his blue eyes cheerful.  Zep stood right behind him.  Ran leaned closer and lowered his voice.  "Why are you trying to get her drunk?"

Jase tilted his head in confusion.  "So she'll forget."

"Blaec?"

This time, he shook his head.  "Nah.  She can na forget him.  I mean here.  If she stops thinking 'bout who might see, then she may do it."

"Do what?" Ran asked.

Zep rubbed Jase's shoulder, smiling at his little brother.  "Anything she wants, Ran.  He's trying to remind her that she's the Kaisae, not a pet."

"She will na stand up fer herself," Jase explained, "but she will fer us.  She will na take offense fer herself, but she will fer us."  He grinned.  "She will na touch him fer herself."

Ran nodded slowly.  "Kolt?"

Jase's only answer was to chuckle and walk away, leaving Zep standing alone with the General.  "It's more complicated than that," he tried to explain.

"How?" Ran asked.

Zep just shrugged.  "Blaec."

"Damn it, Zep, you're starting to sound like them."  Ran grabbed the big guy's arm and towed him outside, moving away from the door.  "What the fuck do I need to know?"

"Which you?" Zep asked, pulling free to cross his arms over his chest.

"Her damned sadava!"

The arrogance vanished, and Zep's face showed the worry he truly felt.  "She's a Kaisae, Ran.  She's a strong Kaisae in the middle of the biggest war this continent has known."

"And?"

"And her reality is getting less stable.  There aren't many options left for the Emperor.  We're gonna win, and we're gonna win big."

Ran asked again, "And?"

"And no Kaisae has ever lived through it."

Silence hung between them, only Ran's years of service keeping his expression calm.  "What kills them?  Is it the changes?"

"I don't know," Zep told him honestly.  "No one knows, but none have lived.  I think they just can't get that strong.  Somehow, nature balances itself out or something.  That's why the party tonight.  She won't get many chances to do this.  She's twenty-four fucking years old, leading a country, with the weight of an entire species on her shoulders.  Let her make a few mistakes!  Let her get drunk, pick a fight, and laugh a bit."  His voice broke, and Zep looked away, taking a deep breath before he went on.  "Let her live for herself for a few hours."

Ran nodded.  "I still have to take care of all my soldiers, Zep."

"I know," Zep assured him.  "She's safe, Ran.  She won't kill anyone without a real good reason.  She's not like that."  He lowered his voice.  "I know you have to play your role and try to stay impartial, but we have our own responsibilities.  We need to keep her going as long as we can."

The General sighed, reaching up for Zep's shoulder.  "What about you?"

"I get to die a very happy man."  Zep shrugged.  "The same way Blaec did.  He gave his life so she could keep going and I want to do the exact same thing.  You haven't realized it yet, but we're all probably gonna die.  The Blades, I mean.  Losing Sal will break us.  Jase and I will stop when she does, and they won't be able to take that much pain at once.  They will fight, they will win, but most likely, they will die to do it."  He tapped his throat.  "That's why the Kaisae's pack is always silver.  It reminds us of our destiny."

Ran nodded and tilted his head in the general direction of the Anglian barracks.  "And Kolt?  Why have you two stuck him at her side?"

"He saved her.  A few times, actually, but it was the first that mattered most."

"Merriton?"

Zep nodded.  "He ended up in her master's house.  In the bed she was assigned to entertain."

Ran jerked from Zep in his shock.  "He – "

"No," Zep assured him.  "He didn't.  He treated her like a scared little girl and gave her something to fight for.  He told her how an iliri could get a taste of freedom.  He gave her an idea, and that turned into a plan."

"The elite units?"

Zep huffed out a chuckle.  "The Black fuckin' Blades, Ran.  He was reporting for our recruitment trials.  The one where we took Razor.  Thing is, if he hadn't been so damned controlled, it would have been him.  We voted him out because he refused to be a beast."

Ran chuckled.  "Guess he learned."

"Is learning," Zep corrected.  "But when he stops trying to be human, he gets it right.  Ran, he's the one who made this Kaisae.  She thought he was human.  He thought she deserved respect.  Those two things are what her entire perception of herself is based on.  It's why humans are in the link.  Because he was strong enough to say no, she learned how to be strong enough to say yes.  All the rest of this?  It's just the process of her getting there."

"How do I help?"

Zep jerked his thumb toward their barracks.  "Spend some time with her.  Not as the General, but as the man who showed her what it's like to have a father.  She needs someone to take care of her.  Teach her to play.  Convince her that it doesn't have to be tactics and treaties all the time, and that it's ok to enjoy life."  He rubbed a hand across his face.  "I dunno.  Maybe see if you can get her to talk about Blaec?"

Ran nodded.  "I'll try.  Might make me into a blubbering old fool, though."

"She won't mind.  Might make her feel better to know she's not the only one unable to cry for him.  Just make sure she knows it's ok to feel something for Kolt?  Bastard's pretty good to her, but she's scared of something happening to him the same way it did to Blaec."

"Kinda looks like she claimed him in there."

"No," Zep assured him.  "She put her mark on his skin, but not in his mind.  Not yet.  She's getting there, though.  Just needs a little more pushing to know it's really ok."

Sighing, Ran nodded.  "Ok.  I'll see what I can do.  I think your mates are all leaving."

"And I gotta go catch up with them.  Grab a bottle, Gavwor.  I have a feeling you won't wanna miss this."

Giving in, Ran Sturmgren turned back for the pub, fishing in his pocket.  Zep was right, he didn't want to miss this.  Already, he'd let too much pass him by, and if Sal's timer was counting down, he wanted to be there for every second he could.

Chapter 19

CUTTING THROUGH A FEW BUILDINGS, Tyr managed to catch up with the Blades.  Razor and Shift were hauling a ceramic camp stove into the middle of the street, setting it up right in front of their line of cabins.  Risk and Tilso had blankets.  The whole crew looked like they were planning to keep this going late into the night.

"Razor," he called, hurrying over to help.  "What's the plan, bro?"

The dark-skinned iliri flashed a sharp smile.  "The Ahnor says the Kaisae will have the best night of her life.  We're making it happen."

"Ok, so how do I help?"

Razor tilted his head back toward his cabin.  "Could use a hand hauling out a couple crates of liquor."

Tyr slapped his back.  "That's my kinda work, man."  They made it inside and Razor began to rummage, pulling out bottles.  Tyr noticed a few labels that surprised him.  "Thought you people didn't do some of this stuff?"

Razor made a dismissive face and kept going.  "We don't process plants as well as humans, so it hits us harder.  Same reason a single cup of coffee is all we need.  Little goes a long way, which makes us cheap dates."

"I'll have to keep that in mind.  So, Sal's feeling it?"

"Yeah, why?"

Tyr began tucking bottles under his arm.  "She just looks pretty calm and in control.  I mean, if someone yanked around one of my mates, let alone someone I was kinda sniffin' around?  I woulda done a whole lot more than push."

Razor paused.  "Let's just say that she's drunk enough to forget that she could kill the woman, but not drunk enough to do it on instinct."

"Like the iliri version of tipsy?" Tyr asked.  "Or would that be closer to giggly?"

"Giggly.  Definitely giggly.  Hell, maybe a bit past that.  She slipped up and called him her mate."  A little smile flickered over Razor's face.

"Help me out here," Tyr begged.  "Man, I'm trying to learn as fast as I can."

"I can see that."  Grabbing one last bottle, Razor straightened.  "You know, you kinda remind me of Zep.  When you want to know, you ask.  No shame for it, either.  It's kinda nice."

"Really?"

"Really."  He handed Tyr the last bottle.  "Which is why I'll let you give that to Sal.  It's the absinthe she was given in Syhar.  It's what she was drinking when they took her."

"With Blaec?"

"With Blaec," Razor agreed.

Tyr sighed.  "And here I was hoping I'd get to be nice to her one day."

"Trust me, man.  That's nice.  Sometimes, feeling the pain makes us remember that we're still alive.  Sometimes, those things that hurt are also the things we treasure most, and we just need someone who can understand.  She likes you, Tyr.  I'd even go so far as to say she respects you.  That's why I think you should give it to her."

"Ok."  He turned for the door, but Razor stopped him.

"And it doesn't matter to us how you were born.  Zep changed.  Kolt changed.  No reason you can't, either."

A laugh slipped out, and Tyr ducked his head.  "That obvious, huh?"

"I can smell it on ya, but you're going to have to keep one thing in mind.  Iliri share everything."

Tyr took two steps to the closest chair and eased his load into it.  "Bro, I already know that.  The moment Arctic linked me in, I figured it out.  When one of the Blades sends me a thought?  It's like layers upon layers in your heads, and it's..."  He sighed.  "I guess it's addictive."

"Primal," Razor corrected.

Tyr shook his head.  "No.  I mean, sure, you're all badasses and shit, but primal makes you sound like barbarians.  What I get in your minds?  It's kinda the opposite.  It's like you have all the difficult shit figured out.  The secrets?  Gone.  The awkwardness?  Handled.  All you need is more practice with this whole human relations thing, and you'll be the dominant species on this planet."

"And that's why you want to get on our good side?"

"No," Tyr assured him.  "Fuck no, man.  I'm not trying to join the winning team.  I'm already there.  I just..."  He trailed off, shaking his head.  "I dunno."

Razor looked at him for a long moment, then he took a deep breath.  His head tilted slightly.  "You don't want to be alone?"

Tyr stared.  That was it.  That was exactly it, but he hadn't even known it himself.  "Yeah, I think."

"Then don't be."  With a smile, Razor picked up a couple of bottles and began rearranging them so he could carry more.  "Line between the Dogs and the Blades has always been thin.  No reason you can't be my little brother."

"I'm kinda bigger than you.  You know that, right?"

"And I," Razor said, walking past him to the door, "know how to catch the eye of the crossbred ladies.  You just have to decide which lines you're not willing to cross."  Then he left, leaving Tyr standing there with his mouth half open in shock.

Just like that, he'd been given the kind of invitation he'd been joking about for almost a year.  There hadn't been any awkwardness about it, no hemming and hawing around the topic before he got laughed at.  Razor, one of the guys he'd known the longest, made it clear that if he was interested, then there wasn't a problem being included – and he had a feeling that rolling around in bed with some iliri lady was the least of what he'd been granted.

Smiling to himself, Tyr piled every single bottle back in his arms and made his way into the street.  His entire life, he'd lived beside the iliri, worked with them, and even died with them.  Now, he was being given the opportunity to actually live with them.  All he had to do was prove he deserved it.  The bottle in his hand was going to be the first step.

Chapter 20

KOLT DIDN'T EVEN WAIT until they were truly alone.  As soon as he got her moving, he bent to Sal's ear.  "So you know, I won't hold you to what was said tonight."  He waited until she looked at him, meeting her pale eyes easily.  "But thank you."

"I just..."  Sal sighed, waving it away as they left the building.

"Finish that."

She chuckled, her ears tilting back to hide her shame.  "It's just that when she started pulling you around like you were her pet..."

"Yeah?"  The corner of his lip slid higher.

Sal shoved her hair away from her face.  "I couldn't stop myself."

He grabbed her arm, turning her to face him.  Her eyes flicked to the ground, but he caught her chin, forcing them back up.  "Don't do that, babe."

"I'm sorry," she tried, but he shook his head.

"Never has a woman stood up for me.  Never.  Except you."  He smiled down at her, one hand sliding into her hair.  "Don't judge me by human standards.  Don't apologize because you dared to give me the biggest compliment I can think of."  He slowly pulled back the collar of his shirt, exposing the punctures in his skin.  "And don't you ever think I don't love it when you do that."

"I didn't ask."

His thumb swept across the line of her jaw.  "You didn't have to.  Sometimes, Sal, it's ok to believe what you feel.  We've been doing this thing... I dunno, this dance I guess, since I joined the Blades.  In all that time, I'm pretty sure I've never said I'm not interested.  Yeah, the timing sucked, but I haven't had a single problem with interest."

That made her smile.  "But has it been long enough?"

"Since Blaec?" he asked.  "I dunno.  That's kinda something only you can answer.  I can tell you that I've figured one thing out.  I may be Blaec's replacement, but I'm sure as fuck not his replica."

"No," she agreed.  "You're nothing like him."  He thought she was done, but she looked up, her eyes lifting to the pair of moons hanging above.  "I loved him so much because he made me proud of myself.  He did everything to prove that I'd earned what I have, and I liked that.  You?"

"What about me?"

This time, when she met his eyes, it wasn't timid.  "You make me feel real.  Like it's ok for me to screw up, get back up, and try it one more time.  Like where I came from doesn't matter as much as where I'm going.  You make me feel like I should try my hardest, not hate myself when I get it wrong, and accept that perfection is what comes after a very long and bumpy road."

"And here I thought that was Jase's job."

"No," she laughed.  "No, Syrik, his job is to keep me from becoming civilized.  Zep's is to remind me that people feel things.  I think yours is to help me remember to never give up."

He moved closer, their bodies almost touching.  "So maybe it's ok if I flirt with the leader of my people a little?"

"Yeah," she breathed, lifting her chin.  "And if you kiss her a little, too."

Her pale eyes held his for a moment, then he leaned closer.  Sal met him halfway, pressing her hand to his chest as her mouth found his.  The kiss was cautious, delicate, even tentative, but his fingers gripped the back of her head tighter, and Sal pushed into it.  When her teeth teased his lip, Kolt pulled away, meeting her eyes.

"You've had a lot to drink, Kaisae," he whispered softly, his eyes flicking to Jase and Zep who stood right behind her.  "I'd hate for anyone to think I was taking advantage of it."

Jase chuckled.  "She has na yet had enough.  Helps if she'd try na ta heal it off."

Her ears turned down, and Sal looked back at them.  "I'm sorry, killer."

"Fer?"  He took a step closer, smiling slowly, and pressed her back against Kolt.  "That ya are na such a cheap drunk now that ya can heal?  Just makes it a challenge.  That ya bit him in front of ever'one?  Ya know we approve, kitten."  He pressed closer until Sal was pinned between the two men.  "I am first, and that is all I ever wanted.  I am cessivi, and that is more than I ever dreamed."  He looked up at Kolt then lowered his eyes to Sal again.  "I am also na human.  I know the beauty of a large family and a perfect mate."

Kolt slid one arm around her waist, his other hand grabbing her hip, holding her tight against his broad chest, and Jase kissed her.  Sal moaned in the back of her throat, tilting her head up to expose her throat, but Jase refused to release her mouth.  Instead, Kolt's lips caressed her neck, softly, gently.  A flare of desire from Zep made her gasp, and Jase stepped away with a devious laugh.

"He will do, even if it takes all night ta get ya in his bed."

Kolt shook his head.  "Gonna take a lot more than one night at a bar, guys.  I'm not that easy."

Jase reached around Sal to pat his arm.  "Fair 'nough.  Does na mean ya can na spend the evening with us."

"That, I can do."  Kolt bent to her ear and fake-whispered.  "I think your ahnor loves you very much, babe."

"Yeah, he does, but our cabins are that way."  She pointed to the sound of laughter a few blocks over.

Jase grabbed her hand and pulled her away, tugging her in the direction she'd indicated.  Left standing there, Kolt took a long breath and followed, one hand checking his weapons.  The pale couple bent their heads together, obviously discussing something in their minds, and Zep moved to Kolt's side, thumping him once on the back.

"He likes you."

"And you?"  Kolt glanced at the Dernor from the corner of his eye, careful not to accidentally challenge him.  Not tonight.  He didn't deserve that.

Zep cocked his head, making it clear he noticed.  "Thanks for the respect, bro, but I'm ok with it.  I can also tell the difference between meeting my eyes and challenging me.  The first doesn't piss me off like it does them.  I wasn't born that twitchy."

Kolt kept walking.  "Pretty sure you didn't answer the question."

"You're right.  Thing is, you've got more respect for the pack than most recruits we've seen.  You've never tried to challenge Jase.  You and I?  Well, that only makes sense.  The human who is iliri, and the iliri who was human, right?"  He shrugged.  "Doesn't bother me if you look in my eyes.  I know it's a habit for you now.  I'm not new to this game."

"And Sal?"

Zep rubbed his palm across his mouth to stop the laugh.  "I think you need to push.  She just bit the shit out of you, and," he tapped his chest, "she was surprised with herself for doing it, but she doesn't regret it."

"She's drunk."

"Not that drunk."  Zep chuckled.  "She's also ready, but she likes her mates to be forward.  Very forward."  He tossed his arm across Kolt's shoulder.  "We won't kill you, I promise."

"But do you care?" Kolt insisted.

"Nah.  Not if you keep being good to her.  Take your time, if that's what you need, but stop saying no.  Trust me, it's not worth it.  She won't refuse you, and she'll understand about your little problem.  Besides, I kinda like having you around."

Kolt nodded as they turned the last corner.  Before them, the Black Blades had truly moved the party to their cabins.  A portable camp stove had been placed in the middle of the dirt street and Shade stood over it, making nothing more than air burn, laughing as Shift gestured dramatically at a stack of wood.  Arctic reclined on the ground, a blanket from his pack rolled behind him for support, Ghost walking up with another.  Risk and Tilso were moving through the group, passing out glasses.  Geo stepped out of a cabin with more pack rolls to serve as furniture.

"I'll get ours," Zep said.  "Go make a scene."

Kolt did.  With a deep breath, he headed directly to Sal, moving behind her to kiss her neck, not caring that Jase still had one arm around her.  Tilso laughed in the background, and Sal melted into his embrace. Jase let go and stepped away.  With a playful growl, Kolt turned her, pulling her against his chest to find her mouth, his meeting it passionately.  The Blades yelled their encouragement, a few grauori yips mingled among them.

"That's how you kiss a fucking Kaisae," Shift called out.

"No!" Risk said, "She's still dressed.  He's doing it all wrong."

Sal giggled, breaking the kiss.  "No, I think he's doing just fine."

"Where's the brandy?" Jase asked.

It was Tyr who answered, holding up a bottle in each hand.  "Right fuckin' here.  Now, who loves me?"

"Oh, I do!" Sal yelled, gesturing for a glass.

That was all it took for the festive atmosphere to resume as if it had never ended.  The pale grauori moved among the crowd easily, often standing to join in a conversation.  The Devil Dogs mimicked the Blades, finding their travel supplies to serve as outdoor furniture.  The Verdant Shields were scattered around the area, often with a collection of mutts, perfectly comfortable with the arrangement.  For them, it was no different than any other camp they'd made before.

When Shade claimed the spot beside Arctic, he gestured for Ghost to move closer then turned his glazed eyes toward the fire and raised his voice.  "Blades, tonight we are iliri, and we will not hide it.  This is our den, this is our family, and our friends will not care."  He looked down fondly at Shade.  "That's an order.  We will not be ashamed of what we want."

She smiled and looked at Ghost, then shifted, leaving her head against Arctic's chest, but draping one leg over the smaller man's lap.  Sal was glad the girl was finally comfortable enough to be affectionate.  Across from them, Risk curled up against Tilso, tucked tight in his own lover's arms.  Behind her, Jase and Zep had laid out their own blankets, gesturing for Sal and Kolt to join them.  The single males found their own group, gesturing toward the Conglomerate soldiers making their way down the street.  The Devil Dogs were only concerned with passing out bottles, the grauori took a few for themselves, and she saw more than one of the Shields checking to make sure he still looked presentable to impress one of the CFC's female soldiers.

They all talked, they joked, and they drank.  Tyr took it upon himself to keep the beverages flowing, pausing before Sal with a bottle.  He looked at Zep, Jase, and Kolt, then caught Sal's eye.

"We found this.  Wasn't sure if you'd still want it."  He held out a bottle of the absinthe they'd been given in Syhar.  The last time Sal had tasted it was with Blaec.

She nodded.  "Thanks, Tyr.  Would you like some?"

"Yeah."  He dared to reach out to cup the side of her face.  "I'd be honored, Sal.  Thank you for calling me a friend."

"Ah fuck," Zep grumbled.  "C'mere ya shit."

Kolt grabbed Tyr's arm and tugged him over into their laps.  The five of them laughed as the Devil Dog tried to balance while he poured the absinthe.  When he passed Sal a glass, they all fell quiet.  Around them, humans streamed into their private party, but the Anglians paused in respect.

"To Blaec Doll," Dominik said, lifting his own glass.  "The only Kaisor Anglia will ever know.  A man strong enough to stare down the Kaisae, brave enough to love her, and devoted enough to change everything."

"To my friend," Ilija chimed in.  "Blaec proved to me that where I came from didn't matter as much as where I ended up."

"To my brother," Arctic added.  "For showing me that I had a reason to be proud."

"To my inspiration," Pig said.  "For giving me a chance, for trusting me enough to share the secret, and for being there every single time I needed him."

Sal took a deep breath, then lifted her own glass.  "To my first love.  For proving that life is worth living, and that each of us can be so much more."

From the back of the crowd, Ran's voice spoke up.  "My friend."  His voice cracked but he tried again.  "To my dearest friend.  The second strongest person I ever knew.  May history be kind to him, and may I become half the man he was without even trying."

They all muttered, but Kolt lifted his own glass.  "I will never forget his name.  There will never be another as brave or wise as he, to live with the secrets in his mind and still find the heart to not only keep going, but keep the rest of us going as well.  He gave his life so that we all may live in a better world.  He shall be remembered."

They bowed their heads for a moment, whispering, "He shall be remembered," then they drank, a heavy silence falling over their celebration.

Arctic broke it, looking to the Conglomerate soldiers making their way closer.  "We're Anglian, but you're welcome with us.  Many of us are iliri and proud of it.  Others may look strange to you, but I assure you that the grauori are completely civilized.  We will not hide what we are or pretend like we're human.  If you don't like it, I will have someone remove you.  If you're willing to respect our," he chuckled, "customs, then come closer."

With his head resting on Jase's knee, Tyr called to the visitors, "Should prolly warn ya, though, they do bite."

Rayna giggled.  "Only their friends."  Suddenly she sat up.  "Wait!  None of you've bit me."

Shift laughed and pulled himself to his feet, staggering toward the King to playfully push him aside.  "If that's how you like it," he teased before nipping the back of Rayna's neck just hard enough to leave red marks.

She sucked in a breath, turning to look at him.  "Damn."

Shift held up his hands, backing away but grinning deviously.  "Now you know why we're so popular.  You humans just won't admit you like it."

"Shit.  Dom, you need to learn how to bite like that."  She giggled, leaned back against the King's chest, and pointed at Shift.  "He's still single, ladies."

"I have got to get me one of those," Tyr teased, slapping Sal's leg lightly.

"A Shift?" Zep asked.

"No, you fuck.  A woman that bites!  Preferably of the carnivorous type."

Kolt shoved at Tyr's shoulder with his foot.  "Not gonna happen on the Kaisae's lap.  You wanna make a friend tonight, you'd best go hang out with the single males."

"Think it'll work?"

"I think what you're doing now won't."  He pushed again, and this time Tyr rolled to his feet.

"Move over, Razor," he called, taking his glass but leaving the bottle of absinthe behind.  "Bro, need you to help me find a real woman.  I can't smell 'em."

Pig threw an empty cup at him.  "I'm not losing any more soldiers, Tyr.  Black is not your color."

"Fuck no, sir.  I'm in grey for life.  I'm also the Kaisae's soldier.  Don't see that those two things conflict at all."

"Not in Anglia," Razor assured him, snagging the glass from his hand.  "And lemme try that."

Chapter 21

SAL WOKE WITH ZEP'S BREATH tickling her ear.  His arm was thrown across her, pinning her to Jase's chest, and her head was pounding from the alcohol the night before.  She closed her eyes and showed her body how to repair itself, then moved on to Zep before clearing the last of the hangover from Jase's mind.  He murmured sleepily and kissed the top of her head, then lifted Zep's arm away from their bodies.

"Good morning, kitten," he whispered.

"I love you, killer."  She kissed him then crawled across his body, caressing the side of his face gently as she left the bed.

He smiled and closed his eyes again, shifting closer to Zep as he snuggled into the bed.  Sal yawned and stumbled into the main room, aware that it was cold but caring more about getting herself a coffee.  She set the pot to brew and heard movement from the couch.  One ear flicked toward it, well aware that she was completely nude.

"Too cold to be wearing that little," Kolt mumbled, "and we never lit the fire."

She giggled but made no move to cover herself.  "Why are you on my couch?"

He groaned and wiped at his face.  "I have no idea.  The last thing I remember was that crossbred pinning Tyr across Razor's lap."  He rolled onto his back, the blanket across his body slipping low enough to reveal that Kolt was still fully dressed.  "I think that's when I started trying to match Zep with the whiskey."

"Hangover?"

"Oh yeah," Kolt agreed, his eyes squinted against the dawn light trailing into the room.  "My head's pounding like one of those marching drums."

Sal made her way across the room, easing herself beside him on the couch.  Kolt smiled but didn't open his eyes, one arm moving to encircle her waist.  Without a word, she rested her hand against the side of his neck, across the silver tattoo, and exhaled, forcing his body to purge the toxins that plagued it.

He relaxed and breathed deeply, letting his fingers slowly trail up her spine.  "Does this mean I can open my eyes now?"

"You've seen it before," Sal said.

"Yeah."  His lids lifted, but his eyes met hers, not daring to look lower.  "Every night in my dreams.  Damn, you're beautiful in the morning."  With a flick of his other arm, Kolt tossed his blanket over her shoulder.  "Even you feel the cold, Sal.  Go put on a uniform and I'll pour the coffee."

She traced the edge of his jaw.  "This mean you'll be here when I get back?"

"Yeah.  So long as I'm welcome."

Which was exactly what she wanted to hear, so she wrapped the blanket closer and headed back into her bedchamber before dropping it on the floor.  Moving quietly, so as not to wake her mates, she found clothes, choosing a uniform with the crossed blades on one shoulder, their unit name embroidered on the other.  Once she was dressed, she returned to the main room.

Kolt had found two cups for their coffee.  With a wistful smile, he carried them into the seating area, passing her one before sinking into the couch, shifting to make room beside him.  Cradling her morning fix, Sal accepted the offer, scooting closer to lean against his shoulder.  Kolt casually lifted his arm and draped it across her hip.

"So what are we doing today, Kaisae?" he asked.

She sipped at her coffee.  "Need to make sure everyone is functional after last night."  She tilted her head.  "Did Tyr really make out with a crossbred?"

"Yeah," he laughed.  "Shift ended up with a human, I think.  Geo got seduced by an archer."

"The others?"

Kolt shook his head.  "Ilija and Joevar were out cold.  Ricown had some girl pressed against the wall, couldn't tell her species, though."

"Rico?" Sal gasped, looking up in surprise.

His amber eyes were warm and amused.  "Pretty sure he's just over a quarter, Sal.  He may choose to be human, but doesn't mean his body will listen.  Would explain why he's so choosy."

"Yeah, it would."

She looked at the door and a second later, it opened, Zep staggering through.  "Coffee brewed?"

"Yep.  Still fresh," Kolt said.

Zep grunted and grabbed a pair of cups, filling both full.  He set one beside the chair, then dropped onto the other end of the sofa, pulling Sal's legs across his lap.  "You get a list of the soldiers we're checking out tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Sal said, stretching out, "but we really should do a run through against one of the other groups this morning."

"Sal's new friends," Jase clarified as he entered the room like he'd been a part of the conversation the whole time.  Unlike the rest, he did not look like he'd just woken up.

"Which ones?" Kolt asked.

Jase claimed the chair and smiled at Zep as he grabbed his coffee.  "They are na a unit, but practice ever'day.  Iliri."

Zep's eyes lost focus, but he nodded, his left hand twitching, showing that he was talking to someone else.  Kolt smiled and took another long drink of coffee, taking in the casual way they started their day.

"Sal," Zep said, patting her legs, "you won't be fighting with us when we do the tryouts.  Arctic wanted to stick Jase at your back, but I talked him out of it.  We'll need the little fuck if we're going to be down a Kaisae."

Jase nodded.  "That means Kolt will be her guard."

"Yeah."  Zep smiled at the brerror.  "Dress armor for the presentation.  Fully armed.  No human will touch her."

"I understand, Dernor," Kolt said, smiling proudly.  "Trust me, I wouldn't let one of those fucks get the pleasure of it."

Zep pulled himself to his feet.  "Good.  Now does anyone know where we put the shields and extra gear?  We're going to need a few run-throughs if we don't want to embarrass ourselves tomorrow."

Turns out Razor did, but while Zep was organizing practice plans with the rest of the Anglian units, something thunked on the door.

"Sal..."

She recognized that voice as one of the Shields and hurried to let him in.  "Hey Caein –"  She paused as the open door revealed the wreck of a man on the other side.  "What happened?"

The left side of his face was swollen, and he stood hunched over at the waist, barely able to stand.  He still wore the clothes he'd had on the night before by the smell of them, and he was coated with dust and blood.  She wasn't sure all of it was his.  Without giving him the chance to reply, Sal pulled him in, supporting most of his weight.  Her cessivi moved into action immediately, Kolt only a second behind them.

"We got a problem," Caein gasped.

"That can wait," she assured him as they eased him onto the couch.  "Hand."

He lifted his and she clasped it, dropping to her knees at his side.  Closing her eyes, her mind slipped into his body, shocked at the number of injuries.  Barely an inch of him seemed to be unharmed, from the bruises across his skin to the broken ribs and cracked wrist, all the way down to something that felt very wrong in the pit of his belly.  She knew this was more than she should be able to handle, but she wouldn't let her soldier suffer a second longer if she could help it.

One by one, she tried to fix what she could.  After only a few minutes, she could feel herself wilting, and a strong hand caught her free one.  That was Kolt, but she didn't stop to ask.  She just let his energy flow into her.  It felt like only seconds later when another palmed the back of her neck and Shift's mind followed right after.  Together, with Kolt's strength fueling them, they put their friend back together.

Eventually, Sal sighed and rocked back on her heels.  Caein was pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, squeezing his eyes closed against the falling feeling that came with being healed.  Beside her, Shift was still going, most likely checking that they hadn't missed anything.

"He's good," her brother finally said.  And that's when Sal realized that he was barely dressed.

Her eyes flicked to the unlaced pants nearly falling off his rump, making it clear that she noticed his lack of shirt.  "Did they wake you?"

"Yeah," he admitted.  "Cyno said I was needed, so I didn't fuck around.  Should probably go make sure my date didn't up and leave."

"And get some clothes.  I have a feeling we're going to be busy today."  She tipped her head toward Caein.

"Yep.  You deal with him, I'll let everyone else know."

With that, he stood, pulling his pants back into place as he did so, and headed for the door.  It barely closed behind him before Caein groaned and pushed himself upright on the couch.  He looked better, but his clothes proved that it must have been a very long night.  There was only one problem.

"Why didn't you call for help?" she asked, trying not to make it sound like an accusation.

He tapped his head.  "I can't.  They stuck me with something and I can't feel my link at all."

"It's ok," Zep assured him as he passed over a coffee.  "There's a few drugs that can do it, but it shouldn't last long."

"Razor was mute for days!" Caein snapped, but the look in his eyes was fear, not anger.  "What if it doesn't come back?"

"Then I'll fix it," Sal promised.  "I'll rebuild it if I have to.  We won't leave you mute."

That seemed to be exactly what he needed to hear.  With a sigh, his shoulders relaxed, and he finally took the cup.  "Thank you, Sal.  Shit.  All I've been able to think about was how I'd survive like this, you know?"

"I know," she said gently.  "But tell me what happened.  Who did this?"

"Fucking Blues.  I'd been drinking, you know?  Stopped at this girl's room for a little fun, but on the way back, I had to take a piss so stopped by the public latrines, not even thinking about it."  He huffed out a wry laugh.  "Right about the time I had my dick in my hand, something hit me hard.  Rang my bell bad enough that I couldn't figure out what was happening, but I remember getting poked."  He tapped his arm.  "After that, I couldn't hear anyone in my head no matter how hard I tried."

"So last night?" Zep asked?  "Still dark out?"

"Yeah, but had to be near dawn."  He paused to suck in a deep breath.  "When I came to, I was in this well house, and there were like four other guys in there.  Blues, like I said.  They were arguing about whether or not I was a scrubber.  I was hurting pretty good, which made it hard to focus, but it sure sounded like they were getting paid to snatch iliri, Sal, and didn't sound like this was their first time.  One of them said something about how their buyer would be able to tell if I really was and that being an Anglian wasn't good enough.  They only wanted the real thing."

"To who?" she asked.  "Did they say who was paying them?"

He shook his head.  "No, but they said plenty of other things, like how killing me would knock the iliri queen to her knees.  I can only assume they can't pronounce 'Kaisae.'"  He flashed her a tired smile.  "One of them argued that letting me live would expose everything.  Another said my death would show you how weak you really are, and how you can't protect all of us or something like that.  One said something about using me as bait to trap the real prize.  That's about the time they realized I was awake."

Zep eased himself down onto the couch.  "Then what happened?"

"Then they beat on me for a bit.  My hands were tied to the center beam, and they had an old uniform over my head.  Blue, of course.  I blacked out a couple of times before I realized that's what they wanted.  Soon as I started playing like I was too weak to even hold my head up, they stopped.  I could hear them bickering about how someone was going to be mad, but they didn't use names.  I mean, they talked about the guy in charge, the buyer, and the real – no, true soldiers."  He sighed.  "From the sounds of it, they were expecting all their little buddies to be pretty impressed that they managed to snag an Anglian, but they were sure that all the scrubbers had the mark so I couldn't be one."

That wasn't the first time they'd heard about the True Soldiers.  Jase snarled, pushing himself to his feet.  "They will na think that when we find them!"

Sal held up a hand, halting his rant.  "Anything else, Caein?"

"I dunno, Sal.  Honestly, I was hurting so bad that it's all a jumble, and I was in there for a long time before I could get free and make my way back."

"I know, but try?"

He nodded, dropping his eyes to his knees.  "They said something about taking away everything you cared about, something about selling iliri for bounties, their guy... Oh!"  His head snapped up, and he met her eyes.  "They said if they hurt you enough, you'll show your true colors and turn on humans.  I think that's what they wanted – to get you to frenzy in public."

"So we'll make sure that doesn't happen.  How'd you get free?"

He shrugged.  "Pretty sure I snapped my wrist getting loose, but the guys had already left.  The first bunch said they had to report for duty.  The second group convinced themselves that they needed to be seen or they'd end up taking the fall for it.  Soon as I was alone, I got a hand free, got the rest of me free, and hauled my ass back here to make sure you knew."

She met the eyes of her three men, one after the other, then looked back to Caein.  "I'm not losing my friends to some ignorant apes.  None of us, regardless of species."

He reached down and caught her hand.  "That'd be nice, but Kaisae?"  His other hand caught hers between his.  "I took an oath to protect my people, sir.  All of them, and I'll die before I let some ace sell off my citizens, ok?  Just be kinda nice if my name gets remembered if it happens."

"I swear, Caein.  If you die for the iliri, your name will be whispered beside Blaec Doll's."

He nodded, slowly releasing her.  "Thank you, Sal.  Now I gotta report to Ilija and see if one of the mutts can track back to where they held me.  See if she can get a scent so we can catch these bastards."

"Yeah."  Sal leaned back to let him up.  "Let me know if you need anything else?"

He flashed her a smile.  "Will do, sir."

As he reached for the door, Kolt tapped Zep's arm.  Without a word, the pair moved to follow, clearly offering an escort back to his side of the cabins.  Sal hadn't even thought about it, but Kolt clearly had.  If Caein was mute, not even being outside his brothers' rooms would be enough protection.  He needed to have someone able to see him to make sure he was safe.

As soon as the door closed, Jase claimed the spot beside her.  "We need ta talk ta yer friends, kitten.  I have a funny feeling they already knew about this."

"Yeah," she agreed.  "Now I know why they were practicing defensive tactics.  How many do you think have been taken?"

"Too many, even if it is only one."

"Mhm," she agreed.  "Jase, I think our plans just got moved up, and I'm pretty sure the Generals aren't going to like this at all."

He gently traced a line down the back of her neck.  "Do ya care?"

"Nope.  It's time to start winning again."

Chapter 22

IT DIDN'T TAKE LONG before all of the Anglians heard what had happened to Caein.  Tebio, his usual partner, was livid, and the rest of the Shields weren't much better.  The grauori were even worse.  Five of them took off together, noses to the ground.  If those men were still in Fort Landing, the Shield's sister unit would find them – and Sal wasn't sure she'd get the chance to interrogate the assailants before they died.  She also didn't really care.

Unfortunately, that only solved one problem.  Nya, the grauori Raewar, made it clear that she would no longer be helping Sal with the strategy talks.  Her skills could best be used organizing the healers, keeping the Anglians safe, and organizing the search rather than dealing with humans who always smelled awkward when she was near.

And while Zep agreed they should talk to the CFC iliri, he didn't want to let Sal out of their rooms without full resin armor.  She didn't want the extremists to know she was worried.  Kolt and Jase agreed with Sal, much to Zep's dismay, but she compromised by changing into leather armor – her skin-tight assassin gear.  Kolt approved, Jase approved, and eventually, even Zep decided that the view was worth the risk.  Considering that they weren't even in uniform, she kinda felt the same.  Granted, black wasn't exactly a safe color to be wearing right now.

But when the four of them got to the small park where Sal had seen the Second Soldiers practicing the day before, it was deserted.  Clearly, they hadn't all been taken or the rest of the base would be reacting.  If for no other reason than because twenty iliri disappearing would be seen as an attempt to escape their conscription and Fort Landing would be on lock down.  The Conglomerate took runaways seriously.  That meant they had to be somewhere else, and Zep had a few ideas.

One thought told the Blades their plan, then Sal and her men headed off to the most popular practice areas in the military town.  Subtle changes were everywhere: shops that had once been thriving were now empty, dozens of off duty soldiers wandered the streets instead of hundreds, and even the always present street vendors had scaled back due to the lack of healthy soldiers with money to spend.  It was simply more proof that the war had been harder on this country than they were willing to let on.

But while they meandered around the edges of Fort Landing, Sal kept her ears open for anything that sounded like soldiers practicing.  They found a few.  Most were organized groups.  A few were open training areas filled with humans.  Then, finally, she heard a growl mixed in with the clash of wood on resin.  A split second later, Jase turned his head that way.  Without needing to hear it himself, Zep steered their group down a side street to an out of the way lawn large enough to be used as a training ground.

On the decorative grassy area between a requisition building and the armory, a collection of pale skinned soldiers sparred in groups.  Some were in pairs, some were three against one, and some were organized teams.  Approximately twenty iliri crossbred soldiers tested their weapons against their friends, ignoring everyone passing by.  Sal gestured her men toward a set of stairs on the left.

"Well, looks like they're all in one piece," she told them.  "Guess this means we get to see what they can do."

Zep shook his head and tapped his brother's arm.  "Nah, I know a better way.  You up for it?"

The little man grinned and looked at Kolt.  "Ya in, brother?"

"Who's watching Sal?" Kolt asked.

Jase chuckled.  "Twenty-something iliri in the area and a voice that can wake three kingdoms?  I think Sal's watching Sal."  He smiled at her.  "Besides, yer toy is close enough fer ya ta grab his mind."

"Wait, I'm not –"

"Na," Jase told her.  "They will na feel as intimidated if they can na see ya.  Let us play first."

She had to admit he had a point.  So, while she found a comfortable place to sit, Zep wandered toward the group on his own, dressed like any other off-duty soldier.  Only after the first iliri conscript spotted him did the other two begin to move that way.  It seemed they had something in mind, but the conscripts didn't look thrilled to see a big, dark-skinned man interrupting what little free time they were allowed.

Zep ran his hands across his blades absentmindedly, but his posture was all human.  "Have room for a couple more?" he asked.

A blonde woman turned, her gold eyes locking onto him.  "Go play with your own kind, Ace," she snapped.

Zep smiled.  "They don't like my brother."

Jase moved beside him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt even though it was anything but warm out.  "Na many places ta try my blades without problems," he said, his blue eyes measuring each one of them.

"You," a man shot back, "are welcome to join us, but I'll tell ya what.  If the Ace takes us all on, one after the other, we'll see if he can stay."

Kolt moved to Zep's other side, following Jase's example with the shirt.  "I'll do you one better," he said.  "The three of us will take all of you at once.  Last man standing decides if we're welcome."

"Deal," the first woman told Kolt with a sneer.  "Full contact and we don't fight easy, human."

"I'm sure you don't," Zep agreed, tugging his own shirt free of his pants.

When Jase tossed his shirt away, they all saw his tattoos.  Iliran words claimed the left side of his body, written all in black, except the symbol for Kaisae in dark blue and white over his heart.  Kolt tossed his shirt to the side next, shocking Sal with the new ink on his chest.  Like Jase, the symbol for Kaisae was easy to read, but Kolt's was in white and purple, declaring his love and hope – and on his right side.  When Zep pulled his shirt over his head, Sal gasped.

He also had a tattoo.  It must have been why both he and Risk had been late to the bar the night before.  Zep's was drawn across his back, the lines stronger than the others, and predominantly the black of death, but accented with love, pride, faith, hope, and fear.  The pale green of new life wove through it all.  He turned to Sal and winked, intentionally placing his back where the iliri soldiers could see it.

A blue-eyed man at the side laughed, seeing Zep's ink.  It was Orys, from the bar.  "You all realize you just agreed to fight the Kaisae's guard?"

"Bet's a bet," Kolt said, pulling Blaec's sword.

Zep drew his broadsword and, even though Jase's hands were empty, the big man gestured for the iliri to come closer.  "Ready when you are."

Orys looked around until his eyes landed on Sal by the stairs.  "Kaisae?  Would you give us the call?"

She nodded, waiting only long enough to let them all get into position.  "Lay on!" she said and twined her men's minds together.

It didn't take long.  The untrained iliri rushed in, but the Blades moved like a single organism, each one covering the other.  They had no spacing, no positions, they merely fought.  While the Conglomerate soldiers were fast, they were untrained and unfamiliar with the rules of real combat.  Too many had been stuck behind desks, others serving only as archers.  Their country had never taken advantage of their species' abilities, but the Black Blades did.  The three men decimated their opponents quickly, laying twenty-one soldiers on their backs while barely breaking a sweat.  The whole time, their muscles rippled under the ink they were so proud of.

That's when Sal stepped up, gesturing to Orys.  "Now it's your turn," she said, sliding her steel daggers into her hands.

He grinned, picking up a broad sword by his feet, and walked toward her – but Zep stopped him.  "If you want to die, use that weapon."

"Says the weapons master of the Black Blades," Jase muttered.

Orys lifted his chin.  "Ok, then what should I use?"

Zep looked him over, his eyes missing nothing, then held out a hand to Jase.  The Ahnor passed over his short swords without a word and moved back, his fingers unconsciously brushing the line of daggers strapped to his legs.

"Are you a brave man?" Zep asked.

"Yes," Sal said before Orys could deny it.

Zep smiled and altered the man's grip on his offhand blade.  "Like claws.  Rush with the right, slash with the left.  Block like they're extensions of your own arms.  If you blood her, I'll buy you a set just like 'em."

"Deal."  Orys tested the swords then moved to stand before Sal.  "Ready when you are, Kaisae."

She smiled as Zep called, "Lay on."

The iliri man swung, but Sal bent away, twisting like she was made of water.  With her ears pushed tight against her head, her dagger slashed at his leg.  Surprisingly, he moved.  Darting to the side, his offhand hacked at her, but steel was there to meet it.  Orys had potential, but not nearly enough of the right kind of training.  The moment his guard opened, she stepped toward him and flicked her ears up, meeting his eyes for a split second before her teeth reached for his throat.  With his swords out of place, the soldier couldn't get away fast enough.  Even as her mouth hit skin, her blades found the vulnerabilities of all men: one pointed at his heart, the other against the inside of his thigh, the artery right below.

"I yield," Orys said, holding the weapons away from his sides.

Sal released him, smiling playfully.  "Thanks for the drink yesterday."

"Making friends?" Razor asked, having arrived while Sal was sparring.

"Always," she agreed.

She wasn't overly shocked to find him here.  With the Dogs and Shields trying to track down Caein's attackers, that left the Blades on the sidelines, and that wasn't something they were used to.  It did bother her a bit that one of her brothers was out on his own.  Enough that she didn't want to say anything in front of the others.

Did you come here alone?

He shook his head.  Not that dumb, Sal.  Then he looked over her shoulder.  "Kolt?  I have a double bladed staff right inside the door of my cabin.  Any way you can grab it for me?"

Kolt held out his hand and Razor clasped it, passing the memory of the weapon and its location.  With a nod, Kolt retrieved it, the staff seeming to appear magically.  He passed it to Razor and stepped back.  A hush fell over the iliri watching.

Using their abilities openly defied an unwritten rule the iliri had lived by for centuries.  Razor's casual request proved that those days were over, and Sal wasn't going to give them the option of going back to their old habits.  Stepping forward, her movement pulled all eyes to her.

"We will not hide," she informed the motley group of Conglomerate conscripts.  "I don't care what humans say, what they think, or what they have threatened to do to you.  We're done being their pets."

A soft murmur shifted through the people before her.  Sal couldn't make out any one conversation, but she could smell it.  These people were scared.  They were desperate.  But the one scent that overpowered everything else was hope.

"You," she told them, looking from one pair of pale eyes to the next, "are the greatest weapon this country has – even if they don't realize it yet.  Makiel Geirr, the Emperor of Terric, knows it, though.  That's why he keeps begging the CFC to give you up.  He knows that without the iliri, this country will fall before his army.  He knows that the only thing that can stand up to him is you – all of you – with the skills that our people have been too afraid to acknowledge.  He's counting on your fear to win this war.  He's counting on human arrogance to dispose of you for him."

Then she stepped back and held her arms wide.  "And I'm tired of trying to make them happy.  Tell me, my friends, are you willing to fight, or do you want to keep hiding?  Keep pretending that if you're just a little better, just a little more tame, then these apes will finally accept you?"

"Oh, hell no," Orys mumbled.

"No," another woman said, but it was still soft and timid.

A few others shook their heads, but they weren't ready to commit yet.  Over and over, Sal noticed them looking back, always in the same direction, as if for approval.  That one mistake proved this wasn't the disorganized group they wanted humans to believe.

Sal lifted her chin, refusing to show she'd seen.  "Or would you rather become my best weapon?"

That brought smiles, and everyone was nodding.

"Then learn," Sal told them, "and learn fast.  Tell your friends and have them spread the word.  Things are changing.  Humans are no longer in control.  I will not let them send my people in to die because you are the only hope the Conglomerate has left.  So let's show them what it means to fight like a beast."

Chapter 23

THE MOMENT SHE STEPPED BACK, Zep moved up to take her place.  "Changing things won't be easy, it won't be safe, and there will be a lot of people who won't like this."  He paused, letting the swell of murmurs fade back down.  "But doing nothing has already proven to be dangerous.  How many of your friends died without a chance?  How many of them were sacrificed because humans thought their lives didn't matter?"  He nodded.  "Yeah, I've lost a few, too.  The only way that will ever stop is if you learn how to fight back."

"We've been trying," a woman said, lifting her voice only enough to be heard.

Zep nodded at her.  "I know, and it's hard to learn without experience.  I'm willing to offer mine if you'll have me as an instructor?"

"Yes, Dernor," someone muttered, making others reply the same way.

Gently patting Sal's shoulder, Zep thought, Go talk to your guy, I got this.  Then he gestured for the crowd to spread out around him.

While Sal backed away, he raised his voice so all of the iliri could hear.  "The first thing you need to know is that the Black Blades keep to the old ways.  Yes, we are linked.  That means we share senses, thoughts, and tactics faster than words.  We also embrace the skills of our species and aren't afraid to show them.  Those two things make us more deadly than any human can imagine."  He nodded to Kolt and Razor.  "Would you two be willing to demonstrate?"

Without hesitation, the pair agreed, both finding a guard position with their preferred weapons.  At Zep's command, they slowly began to spar, keeping the moves clean and easy so the untrained iliri could see what they were doing.  Zep explained the reasoning behind each attack, showing how it was different from the way humans would move.  Around him, the iliri listened intently, no longer caring that he smelled like a human.  The mark on his back proved otherwise, and Zep's knowledge of combat and weapon use was truly impressive.  These people were willing to learn from any place they could.  If it was the Kaisae's mate, even better.

And while he talked, Sal sought out the one person who could tell her what she really needed to know.  There, at the back of the crowd, Calix was trying to avoid drawing any attention to himself, but he hadn't left.  He also didn't shy away when Sal gestured for him to join her.

"Nice little group you organized," she said when they were far enough.

He sucked at his canines, ducking his head to avoid her eyes.  "I'm just here to learn, sir."

"Bullshit."  Sal reached out and hooked his chin with one finger, lifting his eyes back to hers.  "I know habits are hard to break, but I can smell lies better than even you.  I also see how they all look to you for approval, including Orys."

That earned a chuckle.  "Most soldiers assume it's the big guy who's in charge, and Orys lets them go with it.  I mean, not that he's big, but he's bigger than most of us."

"Yeah.  But I'm not most people, and I think you're the one who can help me.  One of my men was accosted last night after our little party."

That had his complete attention.  "One of the Blades?"

"No, the Shields.  Human, but still one of mine."  She lifted a hand when his body relaxed a little too much.  "Anglians aren't the same.  I keep telling you that, but I don't know how else to make you understand.  The Verdant Shields have never asked us to be anything but who we are.  They sit at the table with us while we eat maerte and collect the bodies of the enemies to feed the poor in the towns we liberate.  They drop their eyes, learned our language, and prevent others from touching us without permission.  They feel like velvet, Calix, not spoiled meat, and someone beat one of them bad enough that he could have died without an iliri healer because of it."

A heavy breath fell from Calix's lungs.  "It's hard, Kaisae.  Here..."

"I know," she assured him.  "I grew up here, so I swear I understand, but Caein – the man who was beaten – was only worried about one thing.  He said they were talking about killing off the iliri.  He hauled his broken body to my door, not our healer's, so he could tell me that.  I think it bothered him more than whatever drug they gave him that knocked out his link.  I need you to tell me what's going on."

"Oh."

Calix turned and walked a few steps, shoving a hand into his hair as he thought.  After a heavy sigh, he turned back, his eyes still on the ground.  Sal knew he was trying to work something out, and she wasn't about to push him.  While she could, that wouldn't convince him to trust her, and that trust was a part of her plan.

Eventually, he came to his decision.  "Everything I tell you will go right back to General Sturmgren, won't it?"

She nodded.  "Yes, but that doesn't mean it will make it all the way to Military Command.  Believe me on that."

"I wish I could, but –"

"Who do you think told me to put Dominik Jens on the throne?" she asked.  "He gave me the loophole.  Explained it to me under the guise of clarifying my orders because Dom was a known iliri sympathizer.  Not because of any other reason, Calix.  Ran spelled out exactly how to work within my orders and still get Anglia on our side.  The iliri's, not the Conglomerate's.  I trust him more than I do you."

Slowly, he nodded.  "There's a leak in the command structure."  As those words came out, he stood a little straighter, almost as if waiting for a reprimand.

"Do you know who?"

"No, sir.  Whoever it is seems to know about all major troop movements.  I believe that's why we're so easily ambushed, and why it happens so consistently.  We're all searching for someone with Terran ties –"

"Or smell," she cut in.

He smiled, and a little tension left his shoulders.  "Or that.  The problem is that anyone who gets close tends to disappear, so we started this.  I mean, started taking this seriously."

She moved closer and dropped her voice.  "How many have gone missing?"  When he didn't answer immediately, she added, "Look, I know you're not using official methods to get this, and I don't really care.  I'm asking as your Kaisae, not your commanding officer.  I really don't care how many military protocols you broke to get the information, because I would have done the exact same thing."

His tongue jutted out to moisten his lips.  "I've tracked thirty-four conscripts disappearing in the last six months."

"Fuck," she breathed.  "And no one's asked about this?"

"No."  Slowly, he lifted his eyes to meet hers.  "Kaisae, we've found some of them."

She gestured for him to go on.  "Calix, just tell me what I need to know."

"Orys and a few others snuck out of Fort Landing after hours and tried to track their scent.  About ten clicks out, they found a mass grave.  Lots of bodies, not a single head, and they'd been burned so we couldn't identify any of them, but the people who saw it swear they smelled like iliri."

A surge of anger rushed through her violently enough to make Zep turn.  "Sal?" he called over.

She lifted a hand.  "I'm fine, baby."  Just pissed at what's been going on.  It's ok.  Keep going, because these people need to know how to protect themselves more than ever, it sounds like.

Yeah.  Tell me when you get time.

But Calix was looking at her a little too intently.  "Cessivi?" he asked.  "Like real cessivi?  With a human?"

"Yeah.  Jase, too.  And Jase and Zep to each other."

He nodded, but his eyes were searching her face.  "You know it goes both ways, right?"

"More than you can guess.  It's not a secret to my Anglians, but I'd rather the humans in this country didn't put all the pieces together.  So far as they know, it's nothing more than a strange iliri title like Ahnor and Dernor."

"And Taunor?"

Sal shook her head.  "Syrik hasn't accepted that yet."  And after the scene she'd made in the bar, that was pretty much all she could say.

"I understand."  Then he sighed.  "Look... Sal."  He paused to let her correct him, but when she didn't he went on, "From what I can tell, Terric has at least one spy in Fort Landing, and probably more.  There's an extremist group called the True Soldiers that sprang up around the same time iliri started disappearing.  Not long after, the CFC started taking unreasonably heavy losses, but if you ask, everyone is convinced there couldn't be a leak.  They say we're simply outnumbered."

"Outplayed," she corrected.  "Calix, I'm giving you official orders.  Find the spy or any direct correlations that can lead us to whoever is feeding Terric the intel.  If Ran asks, tell him you're working for me, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"I want you and any iliri you trust to get me every piece of this you can.  Records, anecdotal stories, memories stolen through a touch, I don't care.  I'm not asking you to use official methods.  I want you to get me everything an iliri can learn.  Put it together and give it to one of my leaders – or General Sturmgren.  Regardless of any other orders you get, this is your main duty, do you understand?"

He bobbed his head once.  "Yes, Kaisae."

"Good, because I'm not going to make this easy.  Between now and tomorrow, I expect all of your Second Soldiers to move their practice to Shadow Team's training ground.  Every off-duty Dog, Shield, or Blade will be there to teach you all better defensive tactics.  I'll have grauori pass through to check anyone who claims to be skill-less for their innate ability and give them the basics."

"Sal," he said, "this isn't exactly legal.  I mean, all soldiers are allowed to practice in their free time, but iliri are prohibited from forming organized groups.  That's why we move locations and aren't allowed to come out two days in a row.  If we're caught..."

"Then you tell whoever it is that your orders came directly from me.  If they won't accept that, report them to myself or Dominik Jens.  During daylight hours, I'll make sure that there's a selection of Anglian elites at the practice field to run interference and assist with instructing these soldiers, ok?"

"Thank you."  He moved beside her to look out at his soldiers.  "You know I grew up on stories of the Black Blades.  Never honestly thought I'd get to meet one of you, let alone talk to you."

"And yet you still did this."  She paused, turning to look at him.  "Wait.  You did this because of us, didn't you."

It wasn't a question, but the smile on his face proved she was right.  "The stories always said that the Blades were unstoppable.  I like to believe that it's because of what they are, not how they trained."

"It's both.  Calix, in Anglia I learned something that has been instrumental in pushing the Emperor back.  We're all important.  Humans are masters of defense.  Grauori are masters of stealth.  The iliri?  We're the offense.  Our success comes when we stop trying to hold our ground and decide we're going to take whatever it is we want."  She gestured to the novices flailing at each other.  "And once they stop trying to be humans, they'll be one of the best units the Conglomerate has ever seen."

"So how do we make that happen?"

Sal smiled.  "I'm working on it, but I can't restructure anything until I can prove that this will really work.  I need Conglomerate soldiers who can not only come together as a unit but also work with humans.  With them, not because of them."

"Kinda hard when we're expecting those humans to stab us in the back, Kaisae."

She nodded, never taking her eyes off the soldiers working so hard to soak up everything the Blades were teaching them.  "I know.  That's the one thing holding me back, and I don't blame any of you for it."

"Well," he said, "when you figure out what you need from us, let me know.  My friends want to make a difference.  We all want to change things, not just run from them, but we're not going to throw ourselves on the enemy's swords, either."

"And I wouldn't ask you to."

"No," he agreed, "but they would."

Sal shook her head.  "Well, you can tell your friends that the days of iliri being used to catch arrows is over.  I meant it when I said that you're the only thing holding back the Terran Empire.  He knows it, too."

Calix smiled and stepped back.  "Now we just need to wrap our minds around that.  Excuse me, Kaisae.  I think I need a couple of lessons if I want to start changing the world."

"Yes, you do," she agreed.  "And I'll be waiting for your report."

He paused to snap a very clean Conglomerate salute.  "Yes, sir!"

Sal watched him jog back to his group, oddly touched by the respect in that gesture.  She had a funny feeling that it hadn't been because she was a Kaisae, but rather because she was a Black Blade.  Evidently, she wasn't the only scrubber who'd hoped to trade her safety for a taste of freedom.  Now, she finally had the power to make it more than simply a dream – but it still wouldn't be easy.

Chapter 24

A SURPRISED GRUNT made Sal's head snap to her left.  There, Razor was lying on the ground, waving off the pale woman rushing over to help him back up.  It looked like she'd grounded him but, from her reaction, it had probably been more of an accident than intentional.  Sal couldn't help herself.  She headed over to tease him a bit while she tried to wrap her mind around a solution that could fix these people's problem.

"Guess you should have gotten more sleep, huh?" she asked as she reached down and offered Razor a hand.

He slapped his palm against hers.  "Oh, hell no.  Bitch had teeth like knives and knew exactly how to use them."  Then he hauled himself up, letting the grin show.  "Two-year dry spell?  I think sleep can wait."

"Clearly."  Still holding his hand, she pushed a little energy across to him.  "So who came over with you?"

Razor tilted his head toward the side of the building as he pulled his hand away.  "Tyr.  He isn't in any shape to fight today and wasn't brave enough to ask for a heal, but wouldn't let me out of his sight after the thing with Caein this morning.  He also called the rest of the Blades once we figured out where your friends were hiding.  They should be here any minute, so why don't you stop wasting your good night's rest on me and go put him back together while I show this ilus how to do that again?"

Sal looked and found Tyr leaning against the wall with a lazy smile on his lips and obvious lover's marks down the side of his neck.  After patting Razor's shoulder, she slipped away, catching Jase's eye as she passed.  Clearly, she was still under guard, but a very subtle one.  Her ahnor flashed her a smile, but she didn't stop until she claimed a spot beside the Devil Dog.  Tyr acknowledged her with a lift of his chin and a weary grunt.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Everything fucking hurts," he admitted.  "Fun as shit though, Sal.  Zep's a lucky man."

That made her giggle.  "Want to keep the scars?"

He shot her a confused look.  "Why?"

"Bragging rights?  Proof of her attentions."

The corner of his lip tilted up.  "You can do that?"

"Yeah.  I can also make a good guess of who it was."  She looked across the group, her eyes landing on a dark haired woman sparring under Zep's tutelage.

"That's freakish," Tyr said.  "How the fuck could you know?  Xenla's like Kolt.  She can hide among the humans, but you nailed it."

Sal nodded.  "Too dark to appeal to some, too iliri to appeal to humans – most humans."

"Yeah, but how'd you know it's her?"

Sal took a long, deep breath.  "Her scent will cling to you for a few weeks.  Longer if you spend more time with her."  Then she reached down and grabbed his hand.  "It's how we mark our territory.  Scars, or no?  I'm not leaving you like this with someone hoping to pick us off."

He grinned, a faint pink flush on his cheeks.  "Scars – so I can know it wasn't a dream."

Sal closed her eyes and healed away the damage, speeding up what his body could do on its own.  The tiny rips and punctures along his neck faded into faint white dots, small enough that few would notice, important enough that any iliri would acknowledge their significance.  When she finished, she tossed her arm around his waist and let him lean against her until the vertigo passed.  Across the distance, Zep roared at his pupil.

"Eyes on your opponent.  I don't care what the hell Sal is doing, if you're watching her, you're dying!"

Xenla growled.  "She cannot have them all."

Zep turned, seeing Tyr against Sal.  He gestured at the pair.  "You want to claim that human, do ya?  That's your problem?  You willing to fight the Kaisae for him then?"

The woman snarled and looked away, but her eyes slid back.  "It's pointless," she muttered before dropping her sword in the dirt.

"Pick that up," Zep said gently.  Glancing at the other Blades mingled around the area, he begged them not to interrupt.  "What I'm trying to tell you is that if you're already defeated in your mind, then you will never win."  He leaned closer.  "Not the attention of some human, not the attention of a pack, and certainly not against a soldier's blade.  You think this is going to impress that man?"

"No."

Zep nodded.  "Then stop acting like a whipped dog.  I've served with him, and he's served with the Kaisae.  He knows exactly what it means to be iliri, and he still let you seduce him.  Trust me, it wasn't your good behavior."

She huffed, clearly still annoyed.  "And I'll never be a Kaisae, so what's your point?"

"There's a hell of a lot more to the iliri than just Kaisaes.  Some of us love your people because you aren't human, so try that.  Fight and lose, or fight and win, but stop running away from shit because it might hurt."  He tapped the broken lines of ink on his throat.  "It might hurt a lot.  Doesn't matter if that's in love or war, still holds true.  Now c'mon, let's see what you've got."  He gestured for Razor to come over.

"Him?" Xenla asked.  "I thought you were going to give me the chance to look impressive."

Zep waved her down, stepping closer.  "Do you really think either one of them is looking for a woman who sulks like a human?"

"Doesn't matter.  I'm not the kind they're looking for anyway."

Zep shrugged, his smile turning sly.  "I think you're wrong.  I think they both showed up because they were hoping to catch your eye.  I also think Tyr's one of the few humans smart enough to look down."  He dipped his head, looking into her face.  "I know it's hard, but don't let some primates steal what's left of your pride.  Take it back.  Fight for it if you have to, but never forget that you're iliri, and that makes you better.  Ok?"

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"Yeah."  He nodded to prove the point.  "I believe it so much that I died for my Kaisae.  I believed it so much that when Blaec Doll offered to recommend me to start another elite unit, I begged him not to.  I begged.  I told him I'd stay a Private for the rest of my life if it meant I could stay with my brothers – because I didn't want to be human.  I wanted to be iliri, and that was the closest I could get.  They hate you because they're jealous, not because they're better."

Xenla's mouth flicked up.  It wasn't a smile, but it wanted to be.  "Thank you, Dernor."

"You're welcome.  Now let's see if one of your toys can show you a few new tricks.  Razor, I want you to get her on the offense."

Sal's ears were on them, listening to every word, but Tyr's chuckle proved he could hear them, too.  "Zep has a way of getting his point across, doesn't he," he said softly.

Sal nodded.  "He can't forget what he looks like, but he's been with us long enough to see the kind of crap we had to deal with."

"Yeah."  Then Tyr sighed.  "Sal?  When you start restructuring all of this mess, will you do me a favor?"

"I'll try."

He paused for a moment, his eyes flicking up to hers.  "Don't forget the guys like me and Zep?  Or even like Joevar, you know?  Give us a place where we can belong, too?"

She let her head flop against his shoulder, the pair of them still leaning on the wall while they watched the Conglomerate conscripts sparring.  "I don't know how."

"I figure Command is going to want some humans around, right?  Getting them to turn the iliri loose without some Ace watching over them will be an uphill battle, so why not make sure the men who get the position are the ones who want to be there?"

"And you don't think people will just jump on the chance for a promotion?"

Tyr smiled, and it looked a little devious.  "So don't promote them.  Give them crap tons of responsibilities and liabilities, but make the position only open to Specialists or something.  If someone wants it who's higher ranking, they'd have to take a demotion."

"You think they would?" she asked.

He dropped his arm over her shoulder, gently rubbing her outside arm.  "Yeah, sweetie, I kinda do.  Zep would have.  A demotion wouldn't bother me at all, so long as I stay with Anglia.  Not leaving my Kaisae – even if she keeps telling me we're just friends."

Sal slapped his belly playfully.  "Tyr, you're horrid, you know that?"

"Breathe deeper.  I'm kinda being honest, Sal."

She turned to look at him, not surprised to see him waiting.  "Tyr?"

He shrugged.  "Look, we both know you're not stupid.  I think we both know that I've kinda been crushing on you since that time we were together in Myrosica.  You've also made it very clear that you're not into humans, and I respect the shit outta that."  Then he winked, keeping the conversation from becoming too serious.  "I'm also not gonna leave the Dogs, not even for a hottie with some real pretty eyes, if you know what I mean, so I guess we're going to have to stay friends."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, slipping out from under his arm.

But Tyr caught her wrist.  "Sal, stop."  Tugging gently, he convinced her to face him.  "Don't you dare get all awkward on me the first time I try to be honest.  The only reason I said anything is because you need to know Zep isn't the only one, ok?  If you're doing this thing to make life better for everyone, then don't forget the sick fuckers like me?"

"Ok," she promised.  "But I don't know how.  I mean, it's easy enough to shuffle people around, but that's going to ruin the unit cohesion, and we don't have time to let half the Conglomerate military get to know their new partners.  We need fighting forces.  We need to keep structural changes to a minimum.  Most of all, we can't start mixing humans and iliri without expecting there to be a lot of tension, because humans aren't the only ones with some preconceived ideas that are really, really wrong."

"That's my girl," he purred, encouraging her to keep rambling.  "So how do we fix it?"

"I don't know!" she hissed.

"You will.  You always do, so just keep going until it hits you.  What are you trying to do most?"

"Keep these conscripts from being killed off before we can make them into a serious advantage."

He nodded.  "What's the first step?"

"Getting them real weapons.  Over eighty percent of iliri serve as archers because we see better and someone decided that meant we'd be better shots.  The problem is that they never give us training and expect us to stand there with a bow holding our ground.  We need to be attacking if we're going to be useful."

"But they're already in units.  Sounds to me like you need to cross-train them."

Sal dragged a hand across her brow.  "Right, except that doesn't do a damned thing for putting scrubber lovers in their mix."

"But opening up organizational positions would.  Sal, every unit in this country is working at less than full strength.  I can only guess that it'd be similar in iliri units even if you people can sneak in heals every so often, and I'm guessing you're going to need to move a few people around if you want to get the right weapons combinations."

She froze, her eyes tracking her thoughts but focused on nothing.  "Each unit will need a linker.  We have to figure out a way to get the iliri skills identified, and fast."

"We can do that," he swore.  "My grauori sister is the Hound's linker, and she can help.  I'm sure the rest of the mutts will, too.  We just gotta get these guys to let us train them."

"And that," Sal decided, "is one thing I can do easily."  Tossing Tyr one last smile, she turned for the cluster of sparring conscripts.  "Effective immediately, I need all of you to start reporting to Shadow Team's training field on your free time."

"What?" one of them asked, turning to look at her.  "Kaisae, we're not allowed..."

"That's an order," she told him.  "Zep?  Would you organize a training program with the Anglian elites?  Tyr's going to be in charge of the evening shift for that, and put Caein on the early mornings."

"Yes, sir!" he replied.

So Sal kept going.  "Starting now, I want every iliri to have at least the basic training in both sword and daggers.  Pole weapons are optional, but I highly recommend them.  Anyone in an office position who'd like to move to an iliri combat unit, send a transfer request to General Sturmgren's office.  Spread the word.  This is for all iliri soldiers in the CFC."

"Yes, sir!" the group replied in unison.  Smiles were on most of their faces.

"Jase?  You're with me," she called out, turning her feet toward the officer's hall.  "We need to make sure my orders are recorded and respected."

He didn't say a word as he fell in at her side, but she could feel his pride driving her on.  She didn't quite have it all worked out, but Tyr was right.  She'd been about to fall into the same trap as the one that caused this problem in the first place.  Humans weren't untrustworthy simply because they were humans.  Iliri weren't inherently blameless either.  People were either good or they weren't, and that could come in any size, shape, or species.

She'd spent her life trying to put titles to things, but that made her no different than the Emperor.  What she needed to start doing was judging people for who they were – and teaching others to do the same.  That's how she'd managed to change Anglia so easily, and it's what she had to do here.  If she wanted to win freedom for her people, the first step was to make the rest of their society love them.  Best of all, this country had always loved their heroes, and the iliri could easily become exactly that.

Chapter 25

"DO I WANNA KNOW?" Jase asked when they were finally out of the range of even grauori hearing.

Sal managed to chuckle, shrug, and shake her head, all at the same time.  "It's a half-formed thought, spurred by Tyr and still working its way out, but I think I know how to get the iliri off the front lines.  That help any?"

"Na really," he replied, but it was with a smile.  "But it is nice ta have ya back."

She knew exactly what he meant.  Ever since Blaec had died, she'd been going through the motions, trying hard to continue living but failing miserably.  At best, she'd been a walking shell of her former self.  At worst?  Well, she didn't want to think about that.

"I'm sorry," she told him.

"I am na."  He caught her hand.  "Ya deserve ta grieve, kitten.  Ya deserved ta do it at yer leisure, but ya could na.  I'm just glad ta know that ya are finally realizing that does na mean ya can na be happy too."

"I kinda didn't want to be," she admitted.  "I loved him, I lost him, and I wanted to be miserable because of it, because that seemed easiest."

"But it is na?" His confusion was clear through their bond.

For a moment, Sal chewed at her lip as she kept walking.  She owed him the answer.  She knew how he'd take it, but years of conditioning still told her it should be wrong.  What she had with him and Zep?  She'd been raised to think that such things were barbaric and perverse, but it was ok because of what they'd been through.

Now, she saw her people look at her with pride because she was doing what felt right and no longer caring about the opinions of others.  She'd seen their reaction with her own eyes, but years of hearing the opposite were hard to ignore.

"It isn't easiest for Kolt," she finally told him.  "Or you, Zep, and everyone else who gets dragged through my love life."

"So ya admit ya feel something fer him?"

She nodded.  "To you, yes.  To Zep, if he'll stop being an arrogant ass about it."

"But ya are na ready ta admit it ta Kolt?"

"It's not that easy, Jase!"

He chuckled.  "Do ya know that yer mind reaches fer him in yer sleep?  Just ta check that he is still there, over in the next room."  Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the back.  "Each time ya do, he wakes up, and I can feel the echo of him in our link."

"Oh."

He nodded.  "I think ya understand.  Ya are na hiding it from him, ya are only denying him, and he has given ya too much ta deserve that.  So how 'bout ya try ta do the one thing Blaec asked of ya?"

"What's that?"

"Do what feels right.  Do na resist who ya are because of what ya think ya should do, or be, or say... or whatever."

She groaned under her breath.  "It's not that easy, killer."

"Na, it is na, but it's still the right thing."  He glanced over, catching her eyes for a moment.  "Now why are we going ta see yer sadava?"

And just like that, he'd made his point without making her feel bad for it.  That was why she loved him so much, and why he'd always be her ahnor.  Sometimes, it felt like Jase knew her better than she knew herself.  Hopefully, that would make him the perfect person to sort out the plan she was slowly hatching in the back of her mind.

"We're going to see the General," she told him, knowing he'd recognize the significance of the title, "because I've been going about this all wrong.  The plan is good, but the units aren't.  We've been throwing the main assault in front of Command to distract them from our plans to bring equality to the iliri units, but that will never work.  Not in the Conglomerate."

"It will na be easy," he agreed.

"Nope, but I'm thinking if we restructure by style, it will end up about the same thing – but won't keep people like Zep and Tyr from where they really belong."

His head twitched slightly and a smile slowly began to grow.  "That, kitten, is prolly the most amazing idea ya've had yet."

"In all honesty, it wasn't mine."

Thankfully, it didn't take long to get across town.  Fort Landing wasn't a large place.  Oh, it had an impressive population, but the citizens were all packed together in barracks which tended to be built up rather than out.  Those were placed around the outskirts, leaving the center for administrative offices and supply repositories.  In other words, before she knew it, Jase was pulling open the door to the Officer's Hall.

Ran's was on the second floor, but their entrance didn't go without notice.  Through the open offices they passed, Sal saw soldiers and officers glance up, almost always with their brows furrowed in confusion.  It seemed that not even her black leathers made up for the paleness of her skin, and iliri weren't usually seen talking to high ranking officers.

That was part of the problem.

Without thinking, Sal rapped at Ran's door and stepped in.  Then she stopped cold.  Standing at attention before the large desk was a familiar face, but one she'd hoped to never see again.  His name was Odi.  He and his friend Bardus had taunted her when she showed up for the Black Blades trials, before they'd even started.  To repay her for getting them dismissed, Bardus had put a poisoned blade between her ribs.  She hadn't seen Odi again after her trials, but he hadn't made a good first impression.

"General," Sal said in greeting.

He held up a hand, begging her to wait, then spoke to the soldier before him.  "I will make a note of your complaint, Lance Corporal.  That's all the authority I have, but if you'd like to state your case to the person in charge of this decision..."  He gestured at Sal.  "She's standing right there."

Odi's shoulders were tense, and he refused to turn.  "I doubt she'd listen to me, sir."

"You might be surprised," Sal said.

Odi huffed in frustration but finally turned to face her.  "My unit has earned accolades.  We've proven we're good enough for special missions, and we're still mostly whole.  We shouldn't have to try out against units that have barely seen any time on the front lines."

Beside her, Jase crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.  Sal, however, closed the distance to the man willing to stare in her eyes.  "If they're that good, then why are you upset?"

A muscle in his jaw bounced as the man fought against his frustration.  "We all know you'll pick your kind and leave the rest of us to die in some planned slaughter."

"My kind?" she asked, smiling sweetly at him.  "Would that be Anglian?  Or did you mean the people with ears on the top of their head?  Because I'm pretty sure I'm the only one of those.  If you mean iliri, well, I can assure you that two out of the three units I brought with me are human.  I prefer to judge people on what they can do, not what species they were born into."

"Like the Lieutenant did?" he shot back.

"Or like you and Bardus?" she countered.  "Is it my prejudice or yours that bothers you so much, Lance Corporal?"

He took one step closer and lowered his chin so he could glare in her face.  "You killed my friend."  He paused, then added, "Sir."

"He tried to kill me first," she reminded him.  "So what's this really about?"

For a split second, she saw surprise flicker through his eyes.  Odi looked over to the General for something, but all Ran gave him was a blank stare.  Refusing to give in, his gaze flicked over Sal's shoulder to Jase next.  Everything about him felt aggressive, like this guy was trying to pick a fight.

His words confirmed it.  "Everyone knows that if we give the Emperor the iliri, he'll leave us alone, but you're in too deep to see the benefits of that, aren't ya?"

"He lied," Sal said gently.  "If you try to do that, he'll claim that you've missed some, or that you're holding out.  He'll be forced to send his army into the Conglomerate to 'check' or for some other trumped up reason, and in your fear, you humans will welcome him in.  It's what he did in Unav."

"No, he wouldn't.  We'd get rid of the scrubbers, and if he kept coming, we'd fight back."

"How?" she asked.  This man was slowly but surely proving the point better than she ever could.  "The CFC is almost broken.  Your military strength has been decimated.  Your treasury is pretty much empty.  The Emperor conscripted thousands of soldiers in Gallicor to refill his ranks, and he's pushing them south because your border is the weakest link in this war.  How will you fight against that?"

"We're the CFC," he reminded her.  "The strongest nation on the continent.  No one can withstand our military."

"Could," Sal corrected, getting tired of hearing this same rhetoric over and over.  "Two years ago, you were right, but not now.  Not when finding a complete unit is almost an impossibility.  Not when people are spilling CFC secrets in their desperation to rid themselves of my 'kind.'  Now, if you want to get me a plan, I'll be more than happy to hear you out, but all you're spouting right now is propaganda.  The Emperor's propaganda, and that's a lot closer to treason than I think you intended.  It's also exactly what he wants."

Ran lifted a hand.  "So you have your answer, Lance Corporal.  Write up a proposal if you'd like and bring it to my office.  If I'm not here, my aide will make sure I get it.  Until then, you're dismissed."

Odi snapped a salute to Ran, relaxing only when the General nodded, but when he turned to leave, he refused to even look at the Anglians.  Behind him, Jase wiped his nose against the smell of anger emanating from the man.  Sal wanted to, but her pride prevented it.

"Come in," Ran told them, gesturing for Jase to close the door.  "Sorry about that, kid."

"It happens," she assured him as she claimed the chair before his desk.  "I'm guessing he's not the first?"

"Nor will he be the last."  Ran let out a heavy sigh.  "Mead?"

Jase moved to the cabinet so the General wouldn't have to get up.  "Whiskey, sir?"

Sal's adopted father paused at that.  "Are we drinking or are we on duty?"

"Both," Sal told him.  "Right now, we're operating like Anglians, and that means we do both at the same time – and cut out the bullshit."

"Then yes, Cyno, I'd love a glass."

Sal didn't wait for Jase to finish pouring.  "Ran, I'm pretty much convinced that Makiel started the rumors about the iliri to get rid of the biggest threat to his advancement.  That means I want to strengthen it.  We're going to change the way the CFC is treating my people."

"Sal – "

She didn't let him interrupt.  "Look, we both know my kind have been treated like crap, but it's worse than we thought.  Last night, someone attacked a Shield.  For months, conscripts have been going missing.  The problem is that no one seems to think it's important."

"Who got attacked?" he asked.

She waved him down.  "Caein.  He's fine now, and I've got mutts tracking them.  But look, you have a problem.  Someone's –"

"Conscripts always go missing," Ran said, gently interrupting.  "Not all of them dreamed of being soldiers, Sal, and it's the only way some of them can head north to answer your call."

"But most don't have their heads chopped off and their bodies burned."  She paused to accept the glass from Jase.  "See, there's a very big disconnect between the humans in this country and the iliri.  You might have an idea, Ran, but most of these guys?  They keep saying we're doing magic!"

Jase set a glass beside Ran's elbow then took the chair next to her.  "Fer them, it is magic, kitten."

"But we can still do it!"  Sal paused, forcing herself to take a breath.  "Ran, there's an entire resistance movement hiding right under your nose, trying to fight the extremists, and the shocking thing isn't that it's there, but that they're working so hard to protect this country.  We need to let them."

He slowly lifted his glass.  "So what do I need to know, Kaisae?"

She told him.  Refusing to spare any details, Sal filled her sadava in on everything that had happened since she'd seen him the night before, from Caein's attack to Calix's secrets.  Thankfully, Ran wasn't shocked at all.  Then, when she started laying out her plans for adjusting the iliri units in the CFC, he actually smiled.

"That," he assured her, "I can work with.  If you can get me a list of linkers, I can make those changes, but Sal?  It won't happen fast."

"It'll happen faster than you think," she told him.  "The iliri don't have the luxury of waiting.  Not if we want to stay alive.  All we need is a way to get the word out, test their skills, and convince the packs that this is in their best interest."

Trailing his finger along the side of his own glass, Cyno chuckled.  "Is na that hard ta tell them."  Then he began tracing a symbol on the top of Ran's desk with the condensation.  "In ever' road, ever' pub, and ever' mess hall, we tell them ta find us."

When he lifted his hand, a swirl trailed across Ran's desk.  It called her soldiers to arms, ordering them to report.  Meeting her mate's eye, Sal nodded.  "If we put that out there, there's no stopping this, you know that, right?"

"Ya could na stop it now if ya wanted ta," Jase assured her.  "They have waited a long time fer ya ta give them direction."

Ran cleared his throat, pulling both sets of eyes back to him.  "You two have any intention of telling me what I just got put in the middle of?"

Sal tapped the quickly fading symbol.  "I'm bypassing Command and going straight to the source.  If the Conglomerate wants to win this war, I don't have time for bureaucracy."

"Good, but until you can prove iliri units work, you're only making a short term solution, Sal.  They'll revert everything as soon as you're out of sight."

"It'll work."

Ran shrugged.  "Then prove it.  Find a way to show Command that all iliri can do this."

She slowly nodded.  "I'll figure something out."

"Ya always do," Jase assured her.

Chapter 26

JASE HAD NO INTENTION of waiting to put the plan into action.  As soon as they made it back to their rooms, he recruited Zep and Kolt to help.  Every Blade that could write their species' language was shown the symbol and told to put it anywhere they could think of.   Not surprisingly, the Devil Dogs were more than willing to assist – those who weren't training the Second Soldiers – and quite a few grauori volunteered to keep guard.

With the Shields still tracking down leads on Caein's attacker and the rest of the grauori working in the hospital, that left only one person to keep an eye on Sal: Rayna.  The Anglians hadn't even made it out of the street before the door opened and the Consort stepped into Sal's rooms without knocking, dressed like anything but royalty.  Her pants used to be blue, her shirt was one size too tight but definitely grey, and her hair was perfectly styled.  Sal felt almost under-dressed in her boring white shirt and black leather pants by comparison.

"So we curling up on the couch and talking about the men in our lives?" she teased.

"Nope."  Rayna gestured to Sal's bedchamber.  "I'm under very strict orders to feed you, so go put on some lip stain and do something with your eyes."

Sal sighed but obeyed.  It didn't take long.  A few swipes put a little color on her face, and it felt kinda nice.  Feminine.  Most days, Sal didn't bother dressing up but, clearly, Rayna had something in mind.

"Where are we going?" she yelled back to the other room.

"To get food.  Heard you missed lunch."

One last adjustment to her eyeliner and Sal headed back into the other room.  "I swear Jase worries about my protein intake a little too much sometimes."  Smacking her lips together, she snatched her boots as she passed.

"Wasn't Jase," Rayna told her, sounding a little too amused.

"Zep?"

Rayna smiled.  "Try door number three.  Sounds like your little boy toy is getting very comfortable with his new position in life."

Oddly, that made it a little easier to take.  Unlike her mates, Kolt hadn't lived with her long enough to know that she had no interest in starving herself.  He'd also seen her running on fumes a few times too many, so it only made sense.  That, and it was pretty cute that he even cared enough to say something.

"From the way you're smiling, I take it he's not in trouble?" Rayna asked.

"He's not in trouble," Sal assured her, "and neither are you.  Just one request.  Can we avoid the pubs tonight?"

"Oh yeah."  Rayna put a little too much emphasis into that.  "I was thinking we'd go see if the garden has anything around it with decent food for you, that way we can enjoy the warm weather and have a chance to watch our backs without being too obvious."

"Warm?" Sal shot back, reaching for her weapons belt.  "Did Dom slam your head into the headboard too hard or something?  It's basically winter out there."

A laugh burst out of Rayna's mouth and the hand she slapped over it wasn't fast enough to hide it.  "No!  I was trying to pick on you for never getting cold, but wow.  You clearly won that round."  Then she stepped back and opened the door.  "Which means you're buying this time."

"Yes, ma'am," Sal teased.

Rayna swung her foot, thumping Sal on the rump as she passed.  "It's sir, you bleached little shit.  In this country I outrank you."

"Nope, my version is Lieutenant is much better than your boring Captain," Sal countered.

"Whatever.  The Conglomerate doesn't make beasts into officers."  Then Rayna stuck out her tongue and waggled her head.

Sal couldn't take it, she laughed, undone by Ray's expression.  The short trip to the open dining area, called the garden because soldiers liked to plant themselves there, didn't get much better.  As payback for getting one-upped, Rayna pulled out some pretty good scrubber jokes.  Sal responded by pretending not to get the humor, making Rayna sputter an apology once then somehow managing to convince her best friend she was offended right after that.  By the time the food carts were in sight, Rayna's eyes were glistening and Sal's cheeks burned from laughing.  She couldn't remember the last time that had happened.  She also wasn't going to try because, right now, she needed this.

"Hey?" Rayna asked, pointing across the grassy area used as seating.  "Meat pies.  Think there's a chance they'll be any good?"

Sal sniffed the air then wrinkled her nose.  "You'll probably like them.  I'm going to hit up the guy making agashe."  She pointed at the meat skewers displayed at another vendor.

"Oh, no no no," Rayna grumbled.  "We stick together.  I have no interest in some jealous boyfriend finding out that I let you out of arm's reach."

"Fine."

But Sal was mostly joking.  She honestly had every intention of eating something cooked a bit rarer than the meat pies, but she wasn't foolish enough to split up.  Not here, and certainly not now.  So, falling in line behind Rayna, she did her best to ignore the shocked glances of the other soldiers around them.  Once her best friend had a pair of golden brown pastries in hand, the girls moved to the next line.

Eyes followed.  Sal could almost feel them on her skin and she could certainly hear the accompanying whispers.  Nothing said was bad, well, not too bad.  Mostly, it was the same sort of thing she'd heard so long ago, back when she's been stationed here.  And, as always, there was at least one man wondering about the tricks iliri women were supposed to have.  Sal had no intention of telling him that those tricks were nothing more than a way for iliri women to protect themselves from humans.

But her ears followed every word, and Rayna's eyes followed her ears.  Neither woman said a thing until they made it to the opposite side of the lawn and had found a spot with more winter growth and less crisp yellowed stalks to serve as their table and chairs.  Rayna waited until Sal had taken her first bite.

Anything bad I need to know about? she asked in Sal's mind.

Nope.  A few daydreaming men, some speculation on the color of my pants, and some minor grumbling about you hanging out with me.  Pretty normal stuff for Fort Landing.

Rayna scoffed and rolled her eyes.  This's my shocked face.  Honestly, I never could figure out what was so bad about iliri.  Even before I made it into the Dogs.

I don't think it's bad so much as different, Sal told her.  Clearly, we are not the same, and humans seem to like to think that they're at the top of the food chain or something.

We were.

Sal shook her head slightly.  Not really.  Granted, you did a pretty good job of keeping us from forming organized packs.  That was probably what prevented my kind from overthrowing yours.

And the Kaisae thing, Rayna reminded her.  Hey, when we're done eating, you wanna go see if we can get into the dig site?  Ran said something last night about the creation of the iliri, and I'm kinda curious.

Sure.  Think Marnia will be working this late?

Sounds like she's always working.  Rayna smiled.  Also kinda sounds like she's thrilled to be in charge of something like this.  Ran's pretty proud of her.  Makes me wonder if you're going to have a sister soon.

Sal paused, twitching her head slightly.  Huh.  Think so?

Only way you'll know is if you ask.

But before Sal could think a reply, something caught her attention.  From behind her, a man's voice had been getting louder, but when she heard the word iliri, she flicked an ear back to listen.  Rayna's head turned in the same direction, looking right over Sal's shoulder.

"I don't care who the hell she is," the man snapped at the guy across from him.  "Even if she was human, having some other country's military come in and tell us how we're supposed to do things is wrong!"

"But Anglia's winning," his friend replied.

"And we're not Anglia.  You think any of those assholes making decisions are going to be risking their lives?  Nope.  They sit at the back eating grapes or something while real men and women die to keep them rich.  Happens here, happens there, but at least I get to vote for the people in charge of my life."

Rayna's hand clamped down on Sal's shoulder.  Put those teeth away, she warned.

Sal pulled her lips back into place, unaware that she'd been starting to snarl.  Are we supposed to just sit here and say nothing to that?

And what would you say?  Some sob story about the horrors we've seen?  He won't believe it.  Let him rant – it's what humans do when they can't do anything else.

"What difference does it make?" the second guy asked.  "Doesn't really matter who sends us out, only half of us are going to come back."

"And you think that scrubber bitch cares?" the loudmouth asked.  "No!  She's using Conglomerate soldiers to keep her units from taking any hits.  I'm losing two days off to prepare for this stupid trial, and for what?  So I can get the privilege of riding off to die in the south?  Don't think so."

"Hey!" someone else called from the other side of the grassy area.  "If you don't like it, don't show."

"And get court martialed for deserting?" the loudmouth asked.  "Maybe the True Soldiers have the right of it.  We should ship all the scrubbers off to Terric and let the Emperor sort them out."

"Hush," the second guy hissed, tapping his friend's arm.

When the loudmouth pulled his attention back, his friend made a subtle gesture to where Sal and Rayna were sitting.  It wasn't much, but when both of their eyes looked over, it proved that it had been intentional.  Sal calmly took another bite, trying her best to pretend like she didn't care.

"Is that really her?" the loudmouth asked.

The second guy shrugged.  "Only way to know is if you ask."

Naturally, that was all the soldier needed.  "Hey, bitch!" the loudmouth yelled.

Sal closed her eyes and sighed heavily before answering.  "I assume you mean me?"

"Sure do.  Unless Anglia sent a whole flock of you fucked up little shits down here for the winter?"

Rayna jerked her chin at the guy.  "It's a pack, bonehead.  Flocks are for birds."

"I don't really care what the hell they call themselves.  Scrubbers.  You know, the little white shits that smell like something died.  How many of 'em do you got up there in Anglia?"

Sal turned to see the guy without craning her neck, but Rayna snapped back, "Iliri?  Not nearly enough.  Grauori?  Oh, we have plenty of those.  Why?  Did you want some?"

"Fuck no.  What I want is for you freaks to go back home and let us do something about this war.  Who asked you to show up anyway?"

Sal couldn't help it; she huffed a single laugh, but it made the man's head turn right toward her.  Doing her best to act like Blaec always had, she smiled and leaned back on her hands, ignoring the half-finished plate of food still on the grass and met the soldier's eyes.

"Actually, it was Parliament, and they didn't ask.  They pretty much demanded that we come help."

"Shit... What the hell would they want with you all?"

Sal lifted a brow.  "To win.  At least that was the impression I got.  We are, you know.  Kinda like we're working to empty out the hospital here, get some elites fit enough to head back east, and doing what we can to make a strategy that keeps good soldiers like yourself from dying."

"Yeah?" the loudmouth asked, pushing himself to his feet.  "And are you the dumb bitch in charge of that, too?"

Sal's ear flicked to Rayna, but she didn't dare take her eyes off this guy.  "I am."

He staggered closer, proving that he'd had more than one beer with his evening meal.  Unsure of what he was planning, both Sal and Rayna hopped up, preferring to meet him on their feet.  The guy didn't seem to care.  Brazenly, he stormed close enough to shove at one of Sal's shoulders.

"And you think that Anglia knows enough to fix this, do ya?  Tucked back there behind the front line, nice and safe.  What gives you the right to decide who is going to live and die, huh?  What makes you think that our scrubbers are the same as you?  Why the hell should any of us believe that you're here to help us and not just throw us at the front lines to keep your own citizens safe?"

He tried to push at her again, but Sal rolled her shoulder, effectively dodging his drunken attempt.  "I think I learned enough serving this country to understand how Conglomerate units work," Sal told him.  "I think that the soldiers here are some of the best I've ever seen, and I wouldn't dare treat anyone the way you humans treated me for most of my life.  I also think that you've had enough to drink that you might want to finish your meal or tomorrow's training will be murder on your head."

"Fuck you, bitch.  We don't need your attitude 'round here."  This time, when the man shoved, he used both hands.

Sal staggered back.  Rayna pushed her body between them.  The loudmouth didn't even slow down.  Spluttering obscenities at her, he shouldered through the smaller women.  That wasn't the problem.  It was the hand reaching for his dagger that had Sal's full attention.

She slammed her awareness into Rayna's, blending their minds together.  Ceramic hissed as it slid free of its sheath, followed a split second later by the slick sound of resin as Rayna found her sword.  But Sal wasn't about to give either one of them a chance to start swinging.  Darting forward, she grabbed the man's arm.  Her fingers brushed skin and her awareness penetrated deep into the man's mind.

"What the hell is going on!"

Sal froze both herself and the man she was touching.  Rayna spun toward the sound.  The tone was familiar – it sounded exactly like Ran – but the voice wasn't.  Thankfully, Rayna's eyes told Sal all she needed to know.  Dressed in a grey two shades lighter than what the Devil Dogs used, in a shirt trimmed in a false gold color that boasted a matching lightning bolt on the left shoulder, this man was clearly a member of Lightning Brigade.  Sal hoped the current crew was as sympathetic to her species as the founder.

"I said," the man snapped, "what the hell is going on?  Report!"

"He can't," Sal told the man.  "He's been subdued."

Beside her, Rayna relaxed, reaching over to snag the dagger from the loudmouth's hand.  "It's ok, Sal.  You can let him go now."

Sal turned to look at the newest member of their little altercation, noticing the rank insignia on his collar.  "You ready for this, Major?"

The newcomer nodded.  "More than you can imagine."

Chapter 27

SAL'S FINGERS RELEASED the Conglomerate soldier, and the Major from Lightning Brigade slapped his hand down in the same place.  "Start talking, boy," he demanded.

The loudmouth blinked twice, clearly confused.  "Sir?"

"Why did I arrive to see these two ladies removing a weapon from your hand?"

"Uh..."  He swallowed.  "I was trying to make the scrubber understand that we don't need her giving us orders, sir.  I was just going to show her that we aren't helpless, sir."

"Iliri," the Major corrected.  "Anglians don't like the other term."

"Yes, sir.  The iliri, sir."

Sal wasn't sure, but she hoped that the Major could smell the alcohol on the man's breath.  This whole thing would go a lot smoother if she didn't get involved any more than she had to.  Finally, after staring at the loudmouth for a few seconds too long, the Major shook his head.

"Go eat something and go to bed, man.  You're drunk, and if you try that crap again, I'll have to report this."  Then he looked over to Sal.  "Unless you'd like to make a formal complaint?"

"No, sir," Sal told him.  "Not when I can't hold my drinks any better."

He nodded at them professionally then turned his head to glare at the man who'd caused the scene to begin with.  "Time to go, buddy," the Major said, gesturing to where the second man stared in horror.  "When a lady is having dinner with her friend, you don't interrupt.  When an elite soldier is doing it, you stay as far away as possible, because these two could ground your ass without trying."

The Conglomerate soldier nodded, looking properly intimidated.  "Yes, sir."

"It is good to see you again, Major Kumla," Rayna said, wrapping an arm around the Major's waist from the side.  "Like always, you have the very best timing."

The man returned the hug.  "Rayna Mel," he replied, grinning.  "I have no idea what your rank is anymore, and I'm still Kesh to you."  He leaned over to look at Sal.  "Kaisae, it's a pleasure."

"Same here, and it's Sal."

"I wouldn't dare presume."  He turned back to the man still staring at them dumbfounded.  "Dumb shit, move your ass, or I'll move it for you."

"Sorry, sir," the soldier grumbled, almost deflating as he headed back to his friend.  "I just –"

"Don't care," Kesh said, cutting him off.  Then he turned back to the ladies.  "Anglia, how about you two find a nice table and I'll get the refreshments."  He pointed to a quiet area well away from the food vendors.

Sal and Rayna headed that way, claiming a big stone slab with matching benches.  Rayna shifted a few times, proving the stone was cold, but Sal didn't mind.  She was also getting a very good reminder of why she'd spent so much time alone when she lived here.  It was easier than trying to wade through human antics.  Thankfully, it didn't take long before Major Kesh Kumla returned with a very large bottle of mead and three cheap synthetic cups.

He sat across from Sal lightly. "Can't stay too long.  I got my ass chewed this evening.  Was basically told to keep an eye on things and make sure shit stays clean, but not to play favorites."

"Sounds about right," Sal agreed.  "We won't be here forever, and the repercussions will last a while."

Kesh winked at her.  "They'll love you when you win.  Remember that.  Until you do, they will bitch and moan, but you're above the law here."

"Thing is, she won't do shit, not unless they start it," Rayna said.  "Pretty sure she can't."

"I could," Sal assured her.  "I just know it would disappoint a few people."  She looked at Kesh.  "And I think we're both trying to impress the same man."

"Probably so," he agreed.  "General Sturmgren tends to have that effect on people.  But I wanted to make sure you know there's a few extra eyes on.  Got orders a bit ago that said there's been trouble brewing."

"Plenty of it."  And Sal filled him in on both the attack against one of her citizens and the many comments she'd heard about giving the iliri to Terric.  "Ran warned me there were extremists in the base," she finished, "but I didn't think they'd honestly consider going against orders."

"Right now," Kesh told her, "people will do anything to stay alive.  We've had almost a fifty percent mortality rate when we come up against the enemy.  It's bad, and these guys are scared."

Rayna let out a breathy growl.  "So why won't they just do what Sal suggests?"

"Honestly?"  Kesh looked between the two of them.  "Because this is the one thing they have any control over.  They're allowed to complain, and it makes them feel like they aren't completely helpless."

"And vindicated," Sal added.  "There's a little piece of their mind that thinks that if they die, at least it will prove them right.  Doesn't make any sense, but when that's all you have left?  Yeah."  She nodded slowly.  "I kinda understand."

"Wait."  Rayna scrubbed at her face.  "Sal, are you honestly saying that you're ok with these idiots being so excited to get rid of the iliri?"

"Understand, yes.  Agree?"  She shrugged.  "Not at all.  It's called desperation, Ray.  Grasping at straws to find something that will make this nightmare end and blaming someone else – my kind – is a lot easier than trying to imagine suddenly winning an unwinnable war."

"Well," Kesh breathed.  "Not at all what I expected you to say.  No wonder the General has been so impressed."

"Ran?"

He nodded.  "The one and only.  He actually sent me to find you.  Said you might be able to help with my recruitment problem and told me that I'm not allowed to poach any of the soldiers you're going to need."

Both of Sal's ears flicked forward.  "When?"

"Um, about ten minutes ago?  I came straight from his office.  Just got back to Fort Landing this morning.  Why?"

Rayna giggled.  "That sly bastard.  I think he's starting to become more iliri every time to you talk to him, Sal."

"Maybe."  She flashed Rayna a smile before looking back to Kesh.  "Because in Ran's lingo, he's saying you need a few of those dreaded scrubbers in your unit."

For a moment, Kesh merely stared at her.  Slowly, almost painfully so, a smile began to curl his mouth up and he eventually huffed one single laugh.  "Wow, yeah.  I guess I can see that.  I just figured most would be headed back with you to Anglia."

"Nope.  There's a very large group wanting to change things here.  They say that running away is nothing more than choosing to live in a larger cell.  Doesn't remove the chains that have kept us prisoner."  Sal smiled.  "But you're going to have to wait until after tomorrow's trial before I can give you any suggestions."

"Works for me.  I won't be ready before then."  His smile faltered, but only for a second.  "Wanted to talk to the families first, you know."

"Shit," Rayna gasped, realizing that his losses must have happened recently.  Sympathetically, she reached for his arm.

Sal did the same but didn't say a word.  Carefully, she brushed her fingers across the back of his hand and let images flood into her.  At the front of his mind, the faces of his fallen soldiers were vivid, and the pain was only hidden by years of learning how to mask it.  It still hurt, and for that moment, Sal shared the pain with him.

"I'm so sorry," Sal breathed, releasing him.

"Yeah."  Kesh's voice cracked, so he took a steadying breath.  "Same way I am about LT.  The General told me what happened.  He was a good man, Sal.  A real good one, and I was honored to serve with him a few times.  I will definitely remember his name."

"Aussah.  And we will remember your fallen friends as well."

He paused.  "But you –"

"She touched you," Rayna cut in, knowing what he was thinking.  "I'm betting she knows a whole lot more than you expect, including the mission you were on."

"Supply line disruption," Sal said, proving Rayna right.

Kesh nodded.  "Worst part is that it didn't even matter.  An army runs on food, so we took theirs and gave it to the people in the area.  Next day?  Yep, another caravan came from a different direction.  My soldiers died for nothing!"

Sal wasn't about to lie to him, but she knew how bad that kind of guilt hurt.  She'd felt it in Zep not too long ago.  "I won't let it happen again, ok?"

"I know."  He sighed.  "I do know, but it still fucking sucks.  And now, I have to find four new guys who will never be able to keep up."

"A healer," Rayna said, her words for Sal.

"I think so," Sal agreed.  "If he takes four, we might even be able to get a link and a lookout or finder."

Kesh's brow furrowed.  "What?"

"Iliri skills," Rayna told him.  "The leader of their species has made it clear that they no longer need to hide their tricks, and I think Lightning Brigade could use a few miracles."  She tipped her head to Sal.  "And my friend over there has this uncanny ability to figure out where people belong."

"Ray," Sal hissed.

Rayna lifted both hands in a "what" gesture.  "Tell me I'm wrong.  Tell me that isn't what you were talking about the other day.  If your little sensations show you ties and patterns, then maybe this is why.  You ever thought of that?"

"I am not that far gone!"

"I'm not saying you are," Rayna snapped back.  "I'm saying it's a fucking skill, Sal, and that you need to stop being so damned afraid of it.  Just think about it for a second.  What's the one thing that the leader of any army wishes they had?  The ability to see the connections so their complicated strategy doesn't implode.  Well, I think this is a part of that.  Putting some crossbreds into the elites?  You're already wrapped up in Lightning Brigade through Ran, so you owe him one.  Use the fucking skill and stop ignoring it."

"What skill?" Kesh asked.

"The Kaisae's knowledge," Rayna said, making it sound like some kind of title.  "The final ability of an iliri warlord."

"I'm not –"

"You sure as hell are."  Rayna's palm slapped the table.  "And I'm pushing.  Right here, right now, I'm doing exactly what you told me to in Tensa's, and I'm pushing you to stop hiding from what needs to be done."

"And if I don't see anything?" Sal asked snidely.

Rayna shrugged.  "Then I guess he's going to have to recruit the old fashioned way and we're out nothing.  And if you do, it's just one step toward making this little Kaisae issue of yours into a non-issue.  Sal, if anyone deserves the Kaisae's help, it's Kesh.  Lightning Brigade has been the backbone of all the elite units for long enough that we all owe him."

She nodded, refusing to admit it but hating the idea of embracing her loss of sanity.  "I'll try, ok?"

"Sounds a hell of a lot better than not trying."  Rayna sent her an understanding smile, then looked over at Kesh.  "And if she recommends someone, just take them?  Iliri skills don't always make sense, but they work pretty damned good."

"Yeah."  Kesh sounded confused.  "Look, I can't be picky, and Lightning Brigade can't stay empty.  As much as I hate rushing the recruitment, I'm open for anything right now, so sure."  Then he lifted his glass and swallowed the rest of his mead in a single gulp.  "But right now, I would prefer not to have any overt favoritism.  Ran says things are tense, and probably going to get more so.  You two be safe.  I still have to get what's left of my unit settled in."

Rayna clasped his forearm, holding him in place.  "Let us know if we can do anything, ok?  I'm sorry for your losses."

"Thanks, Rayna."  He shifted his hand until he was holding hers.  "And I didn't get to say it before, but I'm glad you finally found someone who can keep up.  I hope you two are happy."

"We are."  She smiled at him one last time and let go.  "Thanks for not being a dick, Kesh."

With one last nod, he stepped away, leaving the the two ladies sitting there alone under a quickly fading sky.  Rayna dipped her head, shoving the last of her meal around her plate until Kesh's footsteps could no longer be heard.  Then she sighed.

"He really is a good guy, Sal.  If you're going to help anyone in this country, Kesh honestly deserves it."

"Ray, I'm trying to help them all."

Her friend nodded slowly.  "Yeah.  I know.  But I hate seeing my friends suffering like this.  When we get to Terric City, I'm going to kick the Emperor in the balls just on principle."

"Me, too," Sal agreed.  "And I am going to try.  I have no clue how this works, but I'll keep an eye open for any ties to Lightning Brigade, ok?"

"Thanks."  Then Rayna sighed and grabbed Sal's plate.  "Let's go see the dig site.  I seriously need a change of venue."

Chapter 28

TUCKED WELL BEHIND the main mess hall, a massive building had been erected to contain the dry goods necessary to keep an army running.  Beneath that was a maze of basements, each one dedicated to a specific duty.  Wine, seeds, weapons, and armor all were kept in the mild climate only found underground.  Crates upon crates of it.  And behind all of that was a very boring door.

Sal knew this because she'd seen the maps in Judoc's mind, but she'd never been here herself.  The glow of lanterns proved that someone was still hanging around the storage cellars, but the area seemed deserted.  Until she opened the door and gestured for Rayna to step inside.

"Name and rank!"

Rayna froze so fast Sal almost ran into her backside.  "Rayna Mel, Consort of Anglia, here with the Kaisae."

The man chuckled.  "Close the door behind you, would ya?"  Then he stepped into the glow of the lantern hanging from the center of the room.

Sal recognized him immediately.  "Kinetry?"

Long ago, Sal had knocked this guy unconscious.  It had been at her trials to become a Black Blade, and only because Zep had pushed her a little too far.  Kinetry had been dismissed from the Blades but given a recommendation to the 97th Pikemen – and had forgiven Sal immediately.  Since then, they'd served together in Prin, he'd been her jailer in Myrosica, and she'd been instrumental in getting his unit assigned to guarding the dig site and helping Marnia.

And Kinetry clearly remembered her.  "Sal!  Was wondering when you'd show up."

"It's been a crazy couple of days.  Rayna and I were hoping to get a glimpse of what's down here."

He nodded at Rayna in acknowledgment.  "I can do that.  Pretty sure Marnia's down in the ship."

"Ship?" Rayna asked.  "Not just ruins?"

Kinetry slyly smiled.  "Sir, this is going to blow your mind.  They've only dug out a portion of it, but the Professor has a map that showed her the location of the, um, command center, I guess.  The technology of our ancestors is dumbfounding – and the whole thing is metal!"

"Whoa," Rayna breathed.

Kinetry nodded like he was trying to prove he wasn't lying.  "Give me a minute to find someone to cover the main door, and I'll take you down myself."

He was barely out of sight before Rayna spun on Sal.  "You never said it was a ship made of metal!"

"I didn't know," Sal insisted.  "I mean, Judoc remembered a list of metals, but I thought it must have been cargo."

"And it's a ship?  How does that even work?"

Sal shrugged.  "I have no idea, but supposedly this was the transportation for humans from another planet.  It's huge, so I don't know how it would even make it to the stars, but the Emperor's son was sure of it."

"Crazy," Rayna breathed.  "We can barely handle the ocean and its tides.  Trying to sail through the sky?  How did we lose that?"

"Metal," Sal told her.  "Where humans came from, they had a lot.  Here?  It exists, but only barely.  I think they used it for a lot of their devices and couldn't figure out how to compensate with our native materials."  She paused at the sound of steps.

A few seconds later, Kinetry returned with another man.  He also wore the patch on his uniform declaring him to be a member of the 97th Pikemen and, like Kinetry, he looked human – mostly.  With a polite dip of his head to the two women, the new guy took up a position beside the door, and Kinetry gestured for Sal and Rayna to follow him.

"Security looks tight," Sal said as they headed down a poorly lit corridor.

Kinetry chuckled.  "So far as most of the base knows, Marnia is simply excavating ancient history.  The more boring it sounds, the easier our job is.  So we've been very careful not to mention anything about what's down there because looting is a real possibility.  A couple of loose items could make someone rich beyond their dreams.  So yeah.  We make sure that only authorized personnel are allowed in."

On the upside, the entrance to the ship wasn't easy to find.  They had to go down one level, through another handful of rooms, then down to a second level of the basement before they reached the door.  It was exactly as boring as Sal expected, except for the path through the dust on the floor made from dozens of feet crossing the tiny storage room.  When Kinetry opened it, yet another set of stairs was revealed.

"Did they build the base on top of it?" Rayna asked.

Kinetry shrugged.  "Not real sure.  Marnia said something about layers of sediment depositing over time, but Fort Landing has been around forever."

"They're all underground," Sal said as she made her way onto the narrow staircase.

Unlike the others, this one spiraled.  Brick walls secured the sides and lights were hung every few meters, their soot stains proving they weren't a new addition.  In the confines of the stairwell, their feet rang out, echoing up behind them, but none of the three said a thing.  Mostly because the descent was long and a lot steeper than they were used to.  None of them wanted to miss a step.

Eventually, they reached the bottom.  A large rectangular opening showed what should have been a pale room beyond, but centuries of dirt had left their mark.  Now, it was closer to beige than white but brightened the farther inside she looked.  And they weren't alone.  The murmuring of a few dozen voices reverberated through the strange walls like some kind of musical instrument.

"Marnia?" Kinetry called as soon as he was inside.

From somewhere to their right, a woman yelled back, "She's on the bridge."

"This way," Kinetry said, walking straight ahead.

Sal and Rayna shared a look but followed without complaint.  It wasn't far, but everything around them was alien.  The floor under their feet was almost spongy.  The walls were blinding.  The lights?  Sal couldn't explain them.  From an indentation near the ceiling, a clean white glow radiated, casting everything around them in a perfectly uniform light.  It didn't flicker, sputter, or give off any soot; it just illuminated.

Kinetry didn't seem to notice.  Sal could only guess that he spent a fair share of time down here.  She was trying to take everything in, but he acted like it was old news.  Leading them toward the bridge, he never made a wrong turn, and he didn't gawk at the insanity of the vessel.  She couldn't help but wonder how long it took to get used to something so very strange.

"Marnia?" Kinetry called when they were closer.

From beyond a large archway, she replied, "Yeah?"

"Anglia's here."

Sal heard a tiny gasp then the rush of steps.  "Sal?" Marnia asked, spinning around the edge of the archway to look.  "Hey!"

"This is it?" Sal asked, gesturing around her.

"A very small part of it," Marnia assured her, "but yes.  This is the bridge, where the captain and crew steered it."  She waved them in and pointed at metal chair frames placed around the room.  Whatever had once covered them was long gone.  "Each of those was the workstation for a specialist.  Pilot, navigator, things like that."

"How?" Rayna asked, her head swiveling on her neck like it was going to spin off.  "How is it still running?"

"Ah."  Marnia made her way to one of those stations and tapped something.  "The heart of this beast still has a little life left in it.  The engineer said it's a very long term reactor made from decomposing metals."  A diagram came into view on one of the glass pieces.  "We're here.  It's kept down there, but whatever reaction it uses is still going on, even if it's a lot weaker than it was a few thousand years ago."

"And that made it fly?" Rayna asked.

"No," Marnia assured her.  "Star Fall was built in space.  There's no gravity when you get up high enough, and they used smaller vessels to get to it.  She only had to land, and none of these things were very good at that."

"Which is why they're underground?" Sal asked.

Marnia nodded.  "Controlled crashes.  The people wanted to abandon them, and tried, but came back eventually when they realized this world was very different from what they'd expected."

That wasn't good enough for Rayna.  "How do you know?"

Marnia smiled.  "They recorded it."  She tapped at the desk again, then pointed to the large blank wall at the front of the room.

Immediately, an image appeared, looking down on the ground from high above.  At the side, a bright fireball streaked across it before impacting into the surface.  Sal watched the devastation, shocked at the wound left in its wake like a canyon appearing before her eyes.  Again, Marnia did something with the desk, and another fireball made its descent, this time grounding itself in a different part of the land.

"How much human history do you have?" Sal asked.

"More than you can imagine," Marnia told her.  "I also have a pretty good amount of your history, Kaisae."

That got both Rayna and Sal's attention.  The women spun, staring at her in shock.  "Like what?" Sal asked.

Marnia licked at her lips and nodded once, almost as if encouraging herself.  "I know where you came from, and I'm not sure you'll like it."

"Ok?"

"Humans made you."

Sal shrugged that away.  "We already knew that."

"No," Marnia insisted.  "I don't mean domesticated.  I mean made."

She grumbled under her breath and stormed across the room.  At one desk, Marnia paused to flip through a stack of papers.  Whatever she wanted wasn't there, so she moved to another.  Huffing in frustration, she tried a third pile before she found what she was looking for.  Holding up a stack of bound papers, she flicked them to prove their importance.

"In our attempts to reduce our need for metals – biologically, I mean – humans began genetic experiments.  They sequenced the life of the planet and found that something they called an Ogun's Primate was almost genetically identical to humans.  Except for a few minor details like chain-end molecular structures and such."

Rayna lifted her hand like a child in a classroom.  "Lost."

Marnia paused, then smiled as she gestured for Rayna to put her hand down.  "In the most simple terms I can think of, humans have a blueprint made of four colors: red, blue, yellow, and green.  The life here uses red, blue, black and white.  Yellow and white are pretty close, so humans figured out a way to shift things around.  You see, even their blood had more metal than this planet could provide, and they'd die of malnutrition without making a few changes."

"They could do that?" Sal asked.

Marnia nodded.  "Oh yeah.  But in doing so, they tested something on one of these primates, and the result was a beast with traits almost like a human."  Marnia lifted a brow.  "I can only assume they're talking about grauori and iliri."

"The corrupted ones," Sal breathed.  "That's what iliri means in our language.  That makes sense!"

"Uh huh."  Marnia lifted the papers again.  "But that's not all they changed.  Once they realized that this creature could understand human concepts, they did it again, but this time they made entire groups.  Slaves, Sal.  A manufactured lifeform created to appeal to human aesthetics."

"But we're not that different from the grauori."

"Or the humans," Marnia countered.  "They created you to test the changes they made to themselves.  In the end, it appears your species can cross with both.  You're not a true hybrid, but your brothers are."

Rayna gestured to the pages.  "Does it say anything in there about the Kaisaes or leaders?"

Marnia's eyes flicked to Sal.  "Yeah.  Alpha females, they call it.  Genetically selected based on sex chromosomes that contain extra genes."  She waved at the air, brushing that aside.  "In layman's terms, they figured out that there are two sexes but four genders in the grauori – male, female, kaisae, and onsyc – and that one of them has enhanced mental senses that tie them to their pack."  Marnia paused.  "They called it a family group or something.  Anyway, yeah.  They modified that and a few other genes to achieve a 'superior specimen.'  Then they spent generations crossbreeding for the ideal traits."

"Did they ever list our mental abilities?" Sal asked.

"Some," Marnia admitted.  "Telekinesis, empathy, and things like that."

"And Kaisaes?"

Marnia shook her head.  "I don't have anything that's going to help you, Sal.  What I can tell you is what you'll need to do to rebuild the iliri.  Eventually, I mean."  She tossed the cluster of pages onto the closest flat surface and sighed.  "Right now, we're still trying to translate everything to modern Glish.  A lot of this is in another language, too, so that means it's going to take a while.  But, I have a group of junior researchers all working on iliri genetics.  As soon as we get it together, I'll give you the first copy.  I promise."

Sal nodded.  "I appreciate it.  If you can figure out what we'll need to do to bring back the Kaisaes after everything the Emperor's done –"

"Bloodlust," Marnia snapped, cutting Sal off, then realized what she'd done.  "Oh, sorry!  I mean that's the answer.  That's always been the answer for grauori and iliri.  It's an evolutionary holdover, Sal.  Anytime things look bad, whether that's a lack of food and minerals, declining environments, or whatever, the iliri tend to experience an increased libido that overrides other precautionary..."  She stopped.  "Too technical, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Rayna agreed.

"Try that in the vulgar form," Sal suggested.

Marnia grinned.  "When you can't get what you need, you turn to intercourse.  With pretty much anyone.  Your reproductive inhibitions, and whatever it is you all do to hold off cycling, are more likely to fail, and the males are programmed to put your survival above theirs, thus ensuring the next generation – the female and their offspring – will prosper.  It's brilliant, actually."

"Wait."  Sal had to think that over a few times before it made any sense.  "You're saying that maast happens because we're going to die?"

"No," Marnia said, looking a little too pleased.  "I'm saying it's a variant of survival of the fittest.  It happens because the species is more important than the individual and the goal is to pass on one's genes before they die.  To ensure that the individual's genetics remain in the species.  From what I understand, bloodlust drives iliri to keep fighting until there's nothing left and then, uh..."

"Fuck," Sal supplied.

The professor nodded.  "Yeah.  Get the nutrition or reproduce if it's unavailable.  That way, if there's some kind of mass die off, the chances are that those who do survive will have the next generation already cooking.  Even if that's from a male that would otherwise be unsuitable.  Something is better than nothing."

Rayna began to giggle.  "Oh, Jase is going to love this."

"It's how typical evolution works.  We see this sort of thing in herd animals.  The weak die off, the strong survive, and the innovative rise to the top.  It's not common in predators, but," Marnia said before Sal could reply, "I think we might be able to find a supplement to counteract the effects.  The first generation of humans had one because they could only fix their unborn children.  They had to figure out a way to keep themselves from becoming anemic, and I'm betting that would work for you."

"Marnia," Sal said, smiling at the girl, "I think I love you."

"But not in a wild frenzy type of way," Rayna added.

Marnia laughed.  "Wait until you see the rest of what's in here."  And with that, she gestured for the Anglians to follow her deeper into the alien vessel.

Chapter 29

IT WAS LATE when Sal and Rayna finally emerged from the storage building.  Outside, a bitter wind had whipped up, bringing clouds and the smell of rain with it.  The lanterns hanging along the street all swayed, but the people were gone, most likely to seek shelter someplace a little more comfortable.  Except for one man, leaning against a post with his attention locked on the beast lounging at his feet.  Even without seeing his face, Sal knew it was Kolt.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked, raising her voice to cross the distance.

He looked up and smiled.  "Gyrrik and I were putting out your orders, babe.  Figured we might even get a little special attention if we hung out and walked you two home."

He threatened to cut off my tail if I didn't wait with him, the grauori added.  So I agreed.  Now someone needs to buy me some of those meat things to make up for it.

"Oh, the suffering!" Rayna teased, proving she'd heard as well.  "Why didn't you buy your own meat?"

The male's head cocked to the side, and his tongue lolled out.  And where exactly would I keep human style money?  Never mind that these idiots around here can't understand what half of us say.

"You win," Rayna told him.  "If you show me which ones you want, I'll buy."

He hopped up immediately and started trotting down the street.  This way!

Rayna tossed up her hands in surrender.  "Kolt, you've got the Kaisae.  I'm buying Gyrrik some dinner."

"Keep her safe," Sal called after the beast.

Of course.  If a human tries to challenge her, I'll finally get some real meat.

Kolt hung his head and chuckled.  "I've been putting up with that all afternoon."  Then he pushed himself away from the post.  "How about you?  Eaten?"

"Before we went down there," Sal assured him.  "Why, you hungry?"

"Exhausted," he admitted.  "If anyone tries to tell you those mutts are lazy, don't believe it.  Gyrrik dug that notice into every crossroad we passed, helped chalk it on any stone walls he could find, and still grumbled that I was too slow."

"He's one of Nya's, right?"

"No, one of the Hounds that serves with the Devil Dogs."  Then Kolt offered his arm.  "And we found a few of Caein's attackers while you were out of reach."

"What?"

He slowly looked over but kept walking.  "Jase said you were fine so we didn't worry, but no one could reach you down there."

"Hm."  Sal pondered that before she remembered what he'd said.  "Did you get them arrested?"

"Ran did.  Caein's pressing charges so they'll look into the iliri abduction rumors, too.  Kinda sucks, though.  They were just first-year trainees, so Dom suggested a plea deal.  If they spill what they know, they'll get off with a lashing."

"And that's it?"

"What's it?" he asked.

"I have lunch with Ray, spend some time talking to Marnia, and everything gets solved?  Just," and she snapped her fingers, "the problems are done?"

Kolt chuckled.  "Sal, I don't know how to break this to you, but we can survive without you for a few minutes.  You've got a lot of good soldiers in your military, and you've given us the tools we need to get things done.  The grauori found them, Jase and Zep helped with the interrogation, so yeah, that's kinda it.  Well, except for that whole liberating our people thing."

Sal leaned her head on his shoulder, still walking.  "Say that again?"

"What, our people?"  He bent closer and kissed her hair.  "You're stuck with me now."

Slowly, she turned, pulling him around the corner of a building and out of the wind.  "Am I?"

He stepped toward her, pushing her back to the wall while holding her eyes.  "Yeah.  I got this sword on my back, this really cute girl on my arm, and this uniform that makes the people around me a little jealous.  Trust me, I'm not going to do a damned thing to screw this up."

"And last night?"

A smile touched his lips.  "Ok, let me put this out there.  Last night was pretty hot.  You biting me like that in public?"  His smile grew.  "I can handle that.  Being able to hold you against me, wake up to your beautiful face, and spend hours upon hours with you?  I've spent my whole life hoping for a fraction of that.  Sal, I'm also not dumb enough to think it's going to be that easy.  A man like me doesn't simply stumble into some rich fucker's house and come out with his life all laid out before him, you know?"

"But..."  She paused, thought about it, then decided to simply be blunt.  "Kolt, I'm going to go insane."

"Guess that means I'd better hurry if I wanna impress you, huh?"

"You don't understand.  I've already linked you into the Blades.  The end is in sight.  I'm probably not going to live to see next winter, and if you get involved with me, you'll die.  We'll all die for this, and I hate knowing that I'm going to be the reason why."

His hands caught both sides of her face and he bent to look at her eye to eye.  "Just stop that.  Stop.  I don't want to hear shit from you about it being your fault.  You didn't ask for any of this, but you know what?  I did.  My amma raised me on stories of revolutions and heroic Kaisaes.  I played with little carved women wielding swords bigger than their bodies.  I dreamed of getting the chance to make a difference, and don't you dare feel bad about letting me.  Me!  The brown kid with sharp teeth who no one liked.  Me, the dumb-ass who joined the wrong elite team."  Then he dropped his voice to a low rumble.  "Me, Sal.  The idiot who walked out of that house and left you and half my soul behind.  This is my dream, babe, don't take that from me."

She nodded, feeling his palms against her cheeks.  "Syrik?  What are we doing?"

"We're trying real fucking hard to figure out which parts of the last six years were fantasies and which parts are real.  I'm trying to prove to a couple of guys that I'm good enough for you.  You?  I think you're trying to find a simple answer to this thing that is warped and twisted, and it's never going to be that easy."

He was right, and she knew it.  About all of it.  The problem was that she didn't dare believe it.  In her whole life, things didn't work out nice and easy for her, but when she needed him most, Kolt was always there.  Always, even if she hadn't realized it at the time – just like Jase and just like Zep.

"So you're ok with all of this?"  She winced, realizing that didn't come out the way she wanted.  "I mean my mates and me."

"I'm not human, Sal.  You're not going to scare me off with hints of iliri orgies or telling me that there's a few other guys in your bed."

"I wasn't trying to scare you off."  Her pale eyes looked deep into his.  "I don't know exactly what I want yet, but it isn't that."

"And yet you never push me away.  I think we both know you wouldn't even have to try very hard."

Her response was a whisper.  "I don't want that either."

He leaned closer, his lips nearly touching hers.  "You know I tried real hard not to do this?"

"Do what?" she breathed.

"Let you seduce me."  He glanced to her lips.  "I almost had myself convinced that the fantasy would be better than the reality, but I was wrong."

"Me, too."  She leaned into his touch.  "I wanted you to be strong – and you are – but I never really expected you to notice me.  Even in my daydreams, you were only there to help the poor little iliri girl because you were the hero type, not because you cared about me."

"Oh, I care.  I have for a long time."  He smiled and caught her eyes.  "I was married when I met you, you know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"I still used to imagine clandestine meetings, kinda like this.  Making out with you where no eyes would catch us."  Slowly, almost torturously so, he bent and kissed at her neck.  "I was an elite soldier, and you were only a private.  You were going to be so impressed with my reputation, bragging to your friends about your lover."  The breath from his words chilled her dampened skin.  "Then I grew up and realized how very selfish that was."

"Aren't daydreams supposed to be selfish?"

He leaned back far enough to look in her eyes.  "Only if you don't intend for them to become real.  Sal, I'm not some foolish boy who wants to get laid."  He reached up and gently ran his fingers through her hair.  "I'm ok with it if nothing happens between us.  I really do want to take care of you, but that doesn't stop me from hoping for a little more."

Standing so close, she couldn't stop herself from pressing her mouth to his.  Shocked, he sucked in a breath, and her teeth caught his bottom lip, taunting him with the sharpness but refusing to cause him pain.  Kolt growled and leaned into her, sucking his lip free to devour her mouth.  He tasted faintly of whiskey, sharp and potent, as his tongue invaded.  She clung to him, her fingers sliding on the smooth fabric of his shirt, digging into the broad muscles of his back, and he surrendered.  His hands slid down her waist, pausing at the dip of her back to pull her hips against him.  The whole time, their mouths clashed, taking what they could of the other.

"Sal," he whispered, managing to steal one more kiss.  "This is a bad idea."

She pulled back to rest against the wall and looked at him.  "You keep saying that."  Pressing her palm against her head, she took a deep breath.  "Every time I think there might be something more, you start saying no."

He grabbed her wrist and moved her hand back to his chest, pressing it over his heart.  "I'm not saying no.  I'm just saying that you deserve some place a lot nicer than a dark alley."  He raised his eyes to the pair of moons trying to cast their light through the clouds.  "And your mates are probably wondering where you are."

She could feel them.  "No, they aren't."

Beneath her palm, his heart hammered, pounding at his chest like it was trying to break free.  Then he looked back, and her eyes were trapped in his.  She knew he could see her need, her inner fears right there, clear to read.  Slowly she wrenched her gaze away, trying to force her eyes to the ground.

"Don't do that," he begged.  "Look away, close your eyes, or anything, but please, baby, never look down."

She remembered him telling her how enticing that was to him.  To see her submit was something Kolt wanted, and yet never allowed her to do, not even when she tried.

"What if I want to?" she asked, slowly bringing her eyes back to his.

He let out a heavy breath and stepped back, putting space between them.  "Yeah.  Um."  Kolt lifted both hands and let them fall to his sides.  "Sal, I, uh...I'm not really the lover type.  Not anymore."

"What?"

"Fuck."  Groaning in the back of his throat, he shoved a hand into his hair and tilted his head up to the stars.  "I want to, ok?  Me and you?  Babe, you drive me crazy, and I want to do things to you, but I know it's not going to work."  Then he gestured to his crotch.  "I'm an iliri male."

She shook her head, confused, then paused.  "What about when you all but carried me through Unav?  Please don't tell me that was some dream."

"No," he admitted.  "But that was kinda special circumstances.  I'd never been linked with you when you were in the middle of the bloodlust."

Her mouth fell open in shock.  "You think what happened between us was nothing more than sharing the maast?"

He sucked in a long breath and let it fall out before answering.  "Had to be.  It um, doesn't normally do that.  Hasn't worked in a very long time."

She moved to his side, slipping her hand in his.  "Is that why, back in Cenla Xie, you said you hadn't had any lovers in a while?"

"Yeah," he huffed.  "Forgot I'd told you that.  I mean, when I was younger pretty much any iliri girl could get me going, then one day, it all just stopped.  Kinda figured it's because I had a kid, but then I wondered if maybe it's ayati for leaving you in Merriton."

"Is it embarrassing?"

Kolt laughed.  "Very.  Guess Rayna didn't tell you?"

"No."  Sal stared at him, stunned.  "You tried to fuck a human?"

Her amusement was enough to make him smile, and slowly Kolt nodded.  "Yeah.  Not my best night."

"You do know that she's going to tell me all about it, right?"

"Ah fuck.  Really?"

Sal wrapped her arm around his waist and looked up, still grinning.  "Really.  If she ever gives you shit though, ask her about what it's like when your thighs cramp after a long ride."

"You mean, like..."  He laughed.

She nodded.  "Yeah.  A girl can only do so much bouncing in the saddle before bouncing on her man."

Finally, she felt him relax, and his hand moved to her back.  "Hey, thanks for understanding, babe.  I've kinda been scared to tell you that for a couple of weeks."

"Syrik, you can tell me anything.  I may not always understand, but I'll try."

The same way she intended to try proving him wrong.  She owed him at least the effort if not so much more.  Besides, if she was right, six years ago meant one very important thing: Syrik Enik Kolton was already hers.  She just had to be brave enough to do something about it.

Chapter 30

BY THE TIME they reached the cabins, Kolt was back to his normal, carefree self.  So was Sal.  There was something about being around him that felt right, but she wasn't going to take that for granted.  When they reached the porch lining the rooms the Black Blades were calling home, Kolt paused and turned her to face him.

"Thanks for letting me walk you home, Sal."

She tilted her head and bit at her lower lip.  "Does this mean you won't invite me in for a coffee?"

"You're not ready to run away screaming yet?"

She shook her head.  "Not yet.  I have fun with you.  I'd kinda like to make this last a little bit longer.  Besides, it's not like I have to be up early tomorrow."

"Even if..." he smiled hesitantly and glanced away.  "I mean, that's why I keep holding back.  I don't want to disappoint you."

She stepped into him, grabbing both of his hands to lace her fingers through his.  "Syrik, if you do nothing but share a coffee with me, I'd still love to spend time with you.  You make me feel happy again."

Something about the look on his face was almost shy.  "Then can I offer you a coffee?  If your mates don't mind, you're welcome to stay as long as you want."

Hey? Sal asked her guys.  I was thinking about spending a little time at Syrik's place.  Either of you care?

About time, Zep shot back.

Jase was a second slower, but his amusement came first.  We do na mind, kitten.  Ya deserve ta enjoy yer long lost officer.

I won't even peek, Zep teased.

"They don't mind," she assured Kolt, leaving out the rest of it.

Together, they made their way to his door, every step sounding louder in the crisp night air and Sal could smell emotions wafting from him.  In the back of her mind, she could also feel her cessivi, content.  Neither of them was anxious or seething, which removed the last concern she had.

Once inside, Kolt closed the door behind them, not bothering to lock it.  She could almost feel the nervous tension radiating off him, but he tried not to show it.  As casually as he could, he headed for one lamp, so Sal walked across the room to the other, both of them able to see easily in the darkness.  She struck the flame and turned the wick low, giving barely enough light to make the room feel comfortable.

"You like your coffee strong?" he asked, unbuckling his scabbard as he made his way to the kettle.

"Very."

"Just like a soldier," he teased.  "You know that shit puts hair on your chest?"

Sal dropped onto the corner of the sofa with a chuckle.  "I keep trying, but it hasn't worked yet."

"Know what prevents it?"

She shook her head.  "I'm sure you do, though."

He grabbed a small, acrylic pitcher and set it on the counter.  "Real cream."

She grinned.  "The way to my heart."

"So I heard."  Kolt looked up.  "Last time, it got me a kiss."

He set the coffee to brew and made his way back to the sofa, dropping onto the spot beside her.  "You staying long enough to get those boots off your feet?"

"Yeah.  It's a short walk next door.  Not like I need shoes for it."

"Then kick a leg up here."

He pulled off one boot and then the other, gently tossing them beside the couch.  Sal sighed in comfort and shifted so she could remove her weapons.  Once those were gone, she moved to lie across his lap.  For a split second, Kolt froze, before giving in and wrapping his arms around her.

"I guess this means you're not going to let me stay at arm's length, huh?"

"Nope."  She pressed her face into the flat planes of his chest.  "I've kinda gotten the impression that you have no problem with making out a little."

"None," he assured her.

Which was exactly what she wanted to hear.  Tilting her chin up, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled his face toward her.  "Prove it."

"Yes, sir," he whispered before pressing his lips to hers.

Every time she kissed him, it felt better than the last.  He wasn't gentle, but neither was he cruel.  Instead, he knew how to wring the most from something as simple as a kiss.  His tongue toyed with hers, his lips taunted, and his hands... Oh, his hands were the best part, worshiping the lines of her face, tangling in her hair, and holding her as close to him as possible.  She loved the way it felt, like she finally could let someone else take control and just give in.

And that's exactly what she did.  In the soft silence of the room, she let him have his way with her, only her soft moans and his deep groans serving as conversation.  Her hands roamed, sliding across the granite feel of his pecs, aware of the hard peaks of his nipples.  His trailed down her spine until one cupped her ass.  Then she nipped at his mouth, and he pulled, tugging her across his body to straddle his lap.

That was all the excuse she needed.  Grabbing at the waist of her shirt, she pulled it over her head and tossed it behind her, then reached for his.

"Sal," he breathed, but he didn't try to stop her.

"Shut up, Kolt."  Then his shirt ended up on the floor beside hers.  "There isn't a rule that says you have to stay dressed."

"No, there's not."  His eyes drank her in, running over her body greedily, taunting her.

Encouraged by his reaction, Sal slipped off his lap to stand before him.  When he said nothing, she tugged at the laces of her pants, but he only watched.  Slowly, she eased the material down her legs and leaned forward, resting one hand on each of his strong shoulders.  Both of his hands closed on her waist, and he tugged, pulling her back across his lap.

"I like you better here."  As his fingers traced the marks up her spine, his eyes wandered across the swirls inked onto her pale flesh.

"You act like you've never seen me naked before."

He slid his hands down to her thighs.  "No, I act like I'll never get used to your beauty.  You're teasing me, Sal."

She spread her legs wider, pressing closer to him.  "You've already been with me once, why are you so sure it won't happen again?"

"It's more that I don't want to be the burden."  His hands moved along the curve of her back.  "You're strong enough to make men kill their friends.  I'm thinking you have a few other tricks you can do, but you shouldn't have to.  This, Sal, is one thing that you shouldn't need to control."

She leaned closer, her lips trailing down the side of his neck as her hands felt the hard ridges of his abs.  "I also remember Merriton.  You didn't do a thing to me, but you wanted to."

He groaned.  "Oh yeah.  I wanted to.  I wanted to see you sprawled across those silk sheets calling my name.  The fact that you didn't know it kept stopping me."

"I know it now."

His hands slid higher, one cupping the back of her neck, the other pressing against her lower back.  "And now I don't have silk sheets."

Slowly, gently, she dragged her teeth across his neck, barely pinching the skin.  "You still haven't told me to stop."

"I don't want you to stop," he whispered.

Sal kissed him, sweetly, taking her time to enjoy every subtle sensation.  Her mouth teased his as her hands slid over his shoulders, her breath coming faster with each thrust of his tongue.  As her hands caressed those hard muscles, kneading them, flashes of thoughts flickered in her mind, snippets of his fantasies brought to life.

"I don't care if anything happens," she whispered against his lips, tracing his ridges lower, one finger hitching on the hollow of his belly button.  "I don't care if this is all I get.  I just want to be right here, right now, with you."

Her words released the last of his inhibitions and Kolt grabbed the back of her head, pulling her mouth to his.  He groaned as he kissed her, his hands clutching greedily at her body.  She let him, tilting her head back as she dared him to bite harder.  And still, her hands moved lower until they met the fabric at his waist, but that wasn't enough to stop her.  While he nipped and sucked at her neck, she slipped the ends of her fingers beneath his pants to tease the short, soft hair hidden there.

"I want you, Sal," he breathed.  "I want you so damned bad."

"Prove it."

He kissed her again, bruising her lips, and his mouth moved lower to tease the thin skin over her collar bone.  His teeth left their mark, but only a passing one.  A moan slipped out as she leaned in for more, letting her hands fumble at his laces.  As soon as the knot came free, she yanked, giving herself access.  Then her fingers brushed hard, swollen skin, proving his fears to be unfounded.

"You're mine," she swore, her fingers encircling the proof.  "For six years, you've been mine.  You just have to decide what you're going to do about it."

His hands shifted to her ass and he stood, lifting her with him.  "I think we're in the wrong room."

The motion made her grab at his neck and a shocked laugh burst free.  "Bedroom?"

"Oh, yeah."

He carried her toward the far door, and she kissed him, aware that the light was dimming around them but unwilling to take her mouth away.  Her legs clung to his hips, holding herself to him while he walked.  Then, in the darkness of his bedchamber, Kolt gently lowered her to the floor.  For a moment, he looked at her, reaching up to trace the line of her cheek.

"What did you do to me, Sal?"

"Nothing."  She stepped back toward the bed.  "I didn't need to do a thing.  I haven't even touched your mind."

"You should."  Pushing his pants to the floor, he offered it before she could ask.

She wrapped herself in his thoughts, feeling his emotions burning fiercely.  Kolt made no effort to hide what he wanted, and Sal encouraged it.  For years, he'd thought of nothing but her, unable to touch even his wife, and now his deepest fantasy was coming true.  He kissed her hard, pushing her back toward the bed, seduced by her need for him.

She grabbed his arm and shoved him onto the soft mattress, climbing on top of him.  Their eyes met and he growled, rolling her onto her back, pinning her beneath him.  Sal lifted her chin and tried to free her arm, but his hands held her.  She tried again, and he lowered his body, holding her securely.

"That won't work," he teased.

She bit her lip as she looked deep into his eyes.  "I know.  You're stronger than me."

"Say that again, Sal, and listen to it."

"You are stronger than me," she whispered.  "I need you to be stronger than me."

"Always," he promised.  "I will be anything you need."

She dropped her eyes and whispered, "I know."

He moaned and lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her gently as he shifted between her legs.  Slowly he entered her, releasing her hands as he filled her completely.  He paused, looking down at her face, and ran his fingers across her cheek.

"I've always wanted you, babe.  Just like this.  Willingly.  Not driven by instinct or command."  He shifted again, sending pleasure radiating up her spine.  "Only desire."  Slowly he slid out, pausing before thrusting into her again.  "Desire for me."

She arched her back, letting her eyes slip closed as his words caressed her.  With each thrust, she moaned, taking all of him, clinging to him, blurring the lines between his mind and hers.  From the first time she'd met him, Sal had always dreamed of this, of Kolt holding her, loving her, desiring her for everything she was and had been.  He teased her, bringing her so close to release then slowing to kiss and bite at her neck only to start again, daring her to beg.

She begged.

Gasping his name, biting at his shoulder, she begged for him.  He took her passionately, yet gently, savoring her as he pleased her.  His hands, his mouth, his body, all of him tantalized her until she couldn't take anymore.  She pressed into him, her back lifting from the bed, her legs twined around his ass, her breasts bouncing as he buried himself in her.  Sweat slicked his skin, tasting like dreams on her tongue, and the scent of rain filled the room.

Fire built in her core, shooting out from the center of her body.  She felt herself drowning in it but refused to fight the sensation.  She gave in, waves of pleasure overcoming her until she couldn't hold back any longer.  Sal closed her eyes and fell, wrapping herself in Kolt's mind, submitting to his need as her body exploded at his command, drenching her in a satisfaction so intense she couldn't even cry his name.  She could only gasp, clawing at him while he clung to her until she could finally think again.

"Syrik," she whispered, pulling her nails from his back.

"Shh."  He kissed her.  "Sometimes it's ok to just let it happen, babe.  I'm not going anywhere, and we're not in a rush."

"Syrik – "

He stopped her, his hand cupping her face, his thumb pressing against her lips gently.  "No.  I want you to promise me something?  You will never drop your eyes to me except when we're alone?"

She nodded.  "I'll try."

"Promise me, beautiful.  Promise me that I'll never control you?  I want to be your partner, not your salvation, and most definitely not your master."

His worry swept over her, and she looked up, catching his warm dark eyes.  "I promise."

He breathed a sigh of relief.  "That's one thing I couldn't take, ok?  Not after how we met."

"So what is this?  I mean between us?"

He shifted to lie beside her, a huge smile on his face.  "I don't really care.  I could be your toy, your distraction, or whatever else you want, and I'm gonna enjoy it.  Don't you dare try to rush this either.  It took you damned near a year with Jase.  Longer with Zep.  Don't force this."  He growled playfully and rolled toward her, kissing at her neck until she giggled.  "Because I want to enjoy every single second of this.  Damn, you look cute in my bed."

He kissed down to her belly before sitting up.  Casting one last look over her naked body, he crawled from the bed, leaving Sal laying there.  When he reached the other side of the room, Kolt grabbed a dark shirt from a pile of folded laundry then turned and looked at her, a wistful smile lingering on his lips.

"I'd love to leave you there," he tossed the shirt at her, "but I did promise you coffee."

She caught it and pulled it over her head, rolling the sleeves up enough to expose her hands.  It hung loosely on her shoulders and fell nearly to her knees.  "And cream."

"And cream," he agreed, sliding on a worn pair of blue fatigues.  "And if you're real good to me, I might even let that happen again."

She walked across the room to stand before him, twining her arms around his back.  "I'll be a good girl, Syrik.  I promise."

"I kinda thought that's what you might say."

Chapter 31

MORNING LIGHT HADN'T WARMED the breeze any as Zep tucked the clean uniform under his arm and gently eased the door open.  He stepped inside his brother's room and had to smother a laugh.  Sal's clothes lay on the floor, her boots tossed beside the sofa, and the scent of her lingered in the air strong enough that even he could smell it.

He placed her boots in the smaller chair and moved toward the open bedroom door.  Pausing, he focused on the warm feel of her in his heart and knew she was still asleep.  As quietly as he could, Zep snuck in, looking for a place to leave her clothes.  He'd only taken two steps when the sound of breathing changed.  Zep turned, holding up Sal's uniform in one hand, the other pressed to his lips.

Kolt watched him for a moment then nodded. You can set those on the dresser.  We good?

Zep grinned. Yeah, we're pretty good.  You figure it out yet?

Fuck off.

Kolt looked to Sal, checking to make sure she was still truly asleep, then gently slid from the bed.  He showed no shame for either the situation or his nudity.  Instead, he grabbed a pair of pants from the floor and pulled them on, tilting his head to the other room.  They both left without a word, and Kolt pulled the door closed behind them.

"She's out pretty good," Kolt whispered.  "Coffee?"

"Yeah, I'd love some."

Kolt walked over and set it to brew, then cleared another stack of laundry from the table and dropped it onto a pile on the floor.  "Sorry, man.  I honestly did not expect to have company."

"You're so full of shit," Zep teased.

"I actually didn't.  Decided I was going to man up and talk to her about my dick issues and, well, you know how that turned out."  Kolt shrugged.  "You really ok with all of this?  I mean, I get Jase, but not you."

Zep stared at the table, drawing invisible circles against the wood.  "See, I hated the idea at first.  Blaec had just died, and I knew she'd be vulnerable, and we weren't there to protect her.  She's so strong all the time, but it's a brittle strength.  Bend her too far and she'll crack."

"Yeah.  I saw that.  She's come close a few times."

"Too close," Zep agreed.  "Then they told me how you fit into all this."  Zep looked up at him.  "I've always been the odd man out, Kolt.  Her and Jase?  They're meant to be.  Her and Blaec?  That fucking made sense.  Her and me?"  He sighed.

"No, that makes sense to me actually.  She was raised by humans.  They taught her to be ashamed of her instincts.  You?  You are what she was taught was perfect, and you idolize her.  She understands what you do because it's all she knew growing up, yet when her instincts pull at her, you accept it."

Zep smiled.  "Thanks, man.  I can see that.  Kinda makes me feel a bit better.  I mean, not like we can go back now, but I don't really feel as guilty about it."

"Yeah.  Now I'm here, putting a kink in the good thing you three had."  Kolt stood and made his way to the sink, grabbing a pair of cups.  "Cream?"

"Oh yeah," Zep said, taking the cup when Kolt returned.  "So, I know you've linked in with her, felt that last night."

"How's that work anyway?" Kolt asked.

"Kinda the opposite of what you get.  We feel Sal plus your echo.  You feel Sal and ours.  I've been on both sides of it."  He sipped at the coffee and nodded.  "Good stuff.  So, you catch any of her memories from before she was a soldier?"

"Only the ones she gave me."

Zep nodded.  "It's pretty intense.  I mean, you obviously figured out that your shit works with her.  You figure out why it didn't work with anyone else?"

"Trying too hard?  Getting too old?"  Kolt chuckled.  "Nah, man.  I don't buy into that 'meant for her' shit.  Thought she'd pulled the Kaisae thing, but swears she didn't."

"She didn't.  Same thing happened to Jase and Blaec."

"A six-year dry spell?"

Zep laughed.  "No.  They caught her scent and couldn't even think about another woman.  That's what Jase was trying to tell you in Prin.  He knows what it's like, that pull to be with her.  How you can't think of anything else.  The way your junk refuses to acknowledge anything but her presence.  You're meant for her, man."

"Bro, that sounds all romantic and shit, but it's a line of iliri myths," Kolt said.  "I've heard a lot of guys say they're meant for a girl one day, and a month later it's another."

"Iliri?" Zep asked.

Kolt nodded.  "Some women eat that shit up.  It makes them feel special.  I figure Sal isn't one of them."

"You know how many people say they are cessivi?"  Zep sipped at his cup again.

"A few, yeah.  Why?"

"You know ours is the real shit, though, right?"

"For you three.  Most people are just trying to explain their strong bond."  Kolt shrugged then took a long drink.

"Being meant for someone is kinda the same thing.  Sure, some of these guys were raised to act like humans and think it's a real nice pickup line, but that doesn't mean it never happens.  See, we figure Sal has a higher probability of drawing in mates because she's the last Kaisae.  I wasn't meant for her, but that's because I'm human.  You, Jase, and Blaec all had the exact same symptoms."

"You're saying that I smelled her and my body decided to punish me for not chasing her down?"

Zep nodded.  "Yeah, that's pretty much it.  Some kind of assurance to make sure the best matches for her highness in there end up where they belong."

Kolt looked back to the bedroom door.  "And now?"

"Now you're stuck," Zep said.  "She didn't refuse you, so the compulsion won't ease.  She obviously claimed you," Zep glanced to the bite marks along Kolt's shoulder, "but you're still holding back."

Kolt cradled his coffee cup and chuckled.  "I'm really not.  I know what you felt, but it's not what you think."  He took a sip and went on.  "You know as well as I do that once she claims a man as her mate instead of just a toy, there's no going back.  Sure it's happened before, but it's pretty fucking rare, and Sal doesn't exactly seem like that type."

"Yeah.  That's why I held off for so long."

"This is a bit different." Kolt smiled to himself.  "She's in love with an idea.  She barely knows me.  She has no idea if she'll want to be with me tomorrow, let alone next year."  He sipped at the coffee again.  "I've waited six years to buy her a damned drink, I think I can take this slow."

"So this isn't a game for you?" Zep asked.

"No," Kolt assured him.  "No more than it was for you or Jase."  He looked at the door again.

"She's still asleep," Zep promised.

Kolt nodded.  "I'm in love with her, Zep.  Completely and totally.  You tell her that shit and I'll beat it out of you."

Zep grinned.  "Not my story, man.  Why won't you say it, though?"

"I will eventually, but not yet.  She took her time with you and Jase.  I don't want her rushing into this because she's living on a countdown.  I want her to enjoy the process, not just the titles."

Zep stared deep into his cup, chewing at the inside of his lip.  "You sure you're in love with her?"

Kolt nodded.  "I felt my instincts pulling at me in Merriton, but yeah, I fell for her in Idiptu Gap.  Strong but kind, confident but forgiving, agile but adaptive.  When she took that bolt for me?  I was a goner.  She risked her life for a man she thought was her enemy."  He lifted his cup to his lips but smiled before he could drink.  "Yeah, then watching her fight the maast while Shift healed her?  She never came at me, and I know I smelled like iron."

"You saw her with Jase then, too."

"Yeah."  Kolt finally managed to take that drink.  "It's like electricity between them.  Sparks fly when they're together, but it's so fucking natural.  I'm kinda jealous of him."

"Half the world is," Zep agreed.  "Thing is, he's the one that pushed her at you.  She loves us so much she refused to even look."

"And I didn't intend to push in," Kolt said.  "You three have a good thing.  I'm not trying to fuck that up, but I'm also not dumb enough to say no."

Zep stood and grabbed their cups, taking them to the counter to pour more.  "You gonna be a prude like Blaec?"

"Dunno," Kolt said.  "Don't really know much about what went on between them."

"Well," Zep carried the cups back and slid one to Kolt.  "He was a pretty close friend, was my brother for twelve years, but he couldn't pull his head out of his ass.  He wouldn't let Sal into his mind.  He wouldn't even be in the same room as us."

"You and Jase?  You mean, with Sal?"

Zep nodded.  "The four of us ended up sharing a tent a few times for one reason or another.  When he was there, nothing happened.  Usually, Sal'd curl up with him because Jase and I gave up worrying about stupid shit."

Kolt chuckled, slowly nodding his head.  "You mean like who's touching who, right?  That tangle of arms and legs when two men try to wrap themselves around a woman half their size?"

"Exactly."  Zep tilted his head.  "She's stirring, but not quite awake.  Anyways, see, things are pretty easy with the three of us.  We're all tied together, and we just know.  I have no idea what happens with someone I can't feel."

Kolt took a gulp of his coffee then set the cup back on the table.  "Something awkward and completely embarrassing, I'm sure.  Thing is, I don't really care.  Never had an overnighter with a group, but I'm not worried about it, either.  We talk about it, with no hard feelings, and we sort it out.  Deal?"

"And when you wake up cuddling with me and not her?"

Kolt laughed.  "Bro, I'm not that human."

"Me, either," Zep assured him.  "Might end up with some weird dreams..."  He paused.  "Do you dream?"

"Yep."  Kolt tipped his head to the door.  "She doesn't?"

"Or Jase.  Freakiest shit ever.  Like their minds are gone but you can still feel their glow."  Zep shrugged.  "Might be nice to have someone in my head who isn't so much like the void."

Kolt reached over and rubbed his arm.  "Like when you died, right?"

"Yeah."

"You ever need a fix, I figure I'll be next door.  I know Sal can link me while I'm sleeping, which means you probably can."  Kolt lifted his cup, then paused.  "Might be out of line even offering, but I plan to stick around a while.  I'd kinda like us all to be ok with it."

"So you're not going to try to keep her all to yourself?" Zep teased.

"Nah.  If you and Jase are honestly ok with me, I'm fine with it.  I respect the shit out of you both.  I'm not onsyc, but I'm not human either.  I know you three are a packaged deal, and I'm the one trying to buy in."  Kolt grinned.  "I will try to get her in my bed again, though."

Zep nodded and stood.  "So will we," he said as he headed to grab a third cup.  "Yours, I mean.  She's in a good mood, but I don't think she found her uniform yet."

The door creaked open and Sal stumbled out wearing Kolt's shirt and rubbing at her eyes.  Her ears drooped but she smiled.  "Morning baby."

"Morning," they both said.

Sal giggled.  "I'm going to need better names."  Then she made her way to the table and dropped onto Kolt's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.  "I had a nice night."

"A very nice one," Zep teased, setting a cup beside Kolt's.  He leaned over and kissed her neck.  "I brought you a uniform."

She leaned her head against Kolt's shoulder but looked up at Zep.  "Thought you weren't going to peek."

Zep shrugged.  "I lied.  I also have to do a few things today. You willing to spend a bit more time with your new toy?"

She yawned and nodded, shifting so she could grab her coffee.  "Yeah.  And I have to get dressed.  What are you doing?"

"Training for some combat this afternoon.  You're not fighting, but everyone's going to be looking at you."

"Mm.  Guess I should see if Rayna's willing to help me with my face so I look all impressive.  I mean, I have no idea what goes with dress armor."  She reached out and caught his hand.  "And thanks."

Zep smiled, feeling the rush of appreciation from her.  "Didn't do anything, demon.  No need for that."

"No, you're just good to me.  Always.  Have to make sure you know."

"Trust me," Zep said, bending to kiss her neck.  "Every day I'm alive, I know it.  And pretty glad to see you're finally back to the old Sal.  Was starting to miss you."

"Me, too."

Chapter 32

SAL'S TRIALS WERE SCHEDULED for that afternoon, which meant her morning was busy.  After spending over an hour with Rayna trying to make herself look like some beautiful warrior queen, she and Kolt headed to the War Room.  There, they planned to spend the morning in meetings, poring over papers and looking at maps.

Ilija and Ricown arrived shortly after to represent the humans.  Nya still had no interest in dealing with human politics, so once again asked Sal to speak for her.  The Generals didn't even notice the grauori's absence, not understanding how Anglian diplomacy worked.  Both Albin and Kaysir constantly turned to Ilija for approval, glaring each time he deferred to Sal.  Laibek and Usur caught on quickly, though, dividing their words between the two soldiers, showing respect to both.  Ran knew better and directed all talk of strategy to Sal.

Their aides swarmed the room, carrying maps, fetching drinks, and basically acting as servants to the highly decorated Generals.  Calix didn't.  He stood quietly behind Ran, the raised corner of his lip the only break in his posture, behaving more like a First Officer than an aide.  Sal noticed, smelling the amusement wafting from him, and she saw the simmering pride in Ran's eyes.

Just before 1100 hours, Calix finally spoke up, interrupting Albin's latest tirade.  "We have half an hour before the Kaisae's trials start, sir."

"Thank you," Ran told him, gathering his things.  "I think the rest of this can wait for another day."

Sal nodded in agreement.  "Tactics will be easier when I know what the Conglomerate soldiers can do.  I've based my initial strategy on the typical blues, but I'm hoping they've improved since the last time I saw them in combat."

"Our procedure is fine," Laibek grumbled.

"It is," Sal agreed.  "It's perfectly fine, completely predictable, and easily defeated."  She turned to Ran.  "Have you found anyone capable of adapting to any situation the way the Black Blades did?"

"No, sir," he replied.

She sighed.  "You need to fix that.  How do you orchestrate a combined attack?"

"Hope nothing changes," Calix replied, lifting his head as he spoke, knowing he'd overstepped his place.  "Messages are relayed by horse and dog in some cases, sir."

Sal turned to Kolt.  "See if Terric knows we're here yet."

Kolt paused, his eyes going distant.  "It doesn't seem so.  Viraenova has spread rumors that you're traveling with them to Ryass.  Reko has let enough of his hair and skin show in public to keep the ploy up.  Star Fall has started rumors of you hiding in Issevi, injured during your escape from the camp."

She nodded.  "And Black Widows?"

Kolt grinned.  "En route for an attack on the Forward Camp.  Delta squad will be assigned to flank.  The maargra have been informed.  Rais is leading the counter attack, so we should have more concrete intel shortly."

"Can we get Star Fall out?" Usur asked, sounding honestly concerned.

Ilija laughed.  "You don't want to.  We worked hard to get them all in delta squad.  The assault on the Conglomerate flank is a ploy, sir, to give them time to be briefed."

"Won't their officer notice?"

Sal grinned, slowly nodding her head.  "Probably, but we have enough influence to keep it from reaching anyone who matters.  How do you think we got them all in the same unit?  The man they report to was captured after attacking me in Syhar.  His name is Merin Celik.  Jase and Zep focused their efforts on him in order to rescue me, but now he's useful in other ways.  And no, he's not the only one, just the one you need to know about."

"And you're sure of his loyalty?"

Her ears flicked back in annoyance.  "Positive of it.  We made sure of that before Jase let him go.  We can tell these things, General.  That's kinda why we've been winning – because we don't shy away from what our non-human citizens can do for us."

"And if he changes his mind?" Usur countered.

She shrugged.  "I doubt that will happen, but if it does, I have others in the Terran camp.  I have links close enough that I can reach them.  I have enough proof to have him hanged for treason.  It wouldn't be hard to silence someone without raising any suspicions."

"Is that a threat?" Laibek asked.

She shook her head.  "No.  It's an explanation.  This officer obeys without question and knows that if he betrays Anglia, he will never be able to trust anyone around him.  Any of them could be my sleeper.  But if he succeeds, he will be rewarded."

"And what if someone offers him more?" Usur asked.

"They can't," Kolt said.  "No one can match the offer she made him."

"Someone always has more," Albin said.

Kolt shook his head.  "It doesn't always work like that.  She isn't offering him riches, she's offering him something he wants desperately, which so few people actually have the power to grant.  Liberation.  Freedom.  A removal of the fear that has ruled his life for as long as he can remember.  It's called peace, Generals, and all we had to do was show him that regardless of their species, people will never simply lie down and die.  So long as that's their only option, war is his."

Sal tilted her head and shrugged.  "Know your enemy, Generals.  We do.  Now, shall we see if I can find fifty soldiers capable of the assault on Merriton?"

They slowly filed from the room but Ran held back to walk beside her.  Kolt and Calix were no better, both of them finding something to delay them long enough to let the rest leave the room.  Seeing them dawdle, Ilija moved behind the Generals, all but herding them forward with his bulk until there was a significant gap between her and the rest of Military command.  Sal sent her friend a thought of thanks as she turned her attention to Ran.

He noticed – Ran always did – but said nothing until they were in the street.  Only then did he lean toward her slightly and ask, "How did you turn the Emperor's son?  What did you offer him, Sal?"

"I gave Narnx hope."

"Help me out here, kid."

"You don't understand," Calix said, speaking up from his other side.  "She is hope.  She is the hope of our people – that's what a Kaisae is.  To be around her is to taste the idea of perfection, to hear the sound of victory, and to see the dreams we dare not admit we have.  It is a compelling offer."

"Very," Kolt agreed.

Sal looked to Ran.  "We were made to be the perfect soldiers.  Humans designed us for efficiency, from our physical abilities to our mental ones.  That means we need the perfect leader, one that cannot be ignored.  It's a double edged sword, though.  My wish may end up as a command to every iliri in my range, but it isn't that hard for humans to take over that power.  All they need is to control one woman and they get the entire army."

"But we'll never let that happen again," Kolt promised.

Ran murmured under his breath, showing he was taking that in.  "Just like a whip.  You can push them forward or hold them back, but it's still a valuable tool."  He rubbed at his lips as he contemplated that.  "Are you a threat to the Conglomerate?"

She let a chuckle slip out as she shrugged.  "Yes, if you dare to stand against me."

"They," he said softly.  "I will stand with my family, girl.  Never think otherwise."  He looked down and caught her eye then nodded, driving home his words.  "I only wanted to know what we were looking at while I still have the chance to ask.  Oh, and Command intends to make this thing into a show.  They're hoping to shock you with what you're about to see, you know that, right?"

"I'm not surprised," she admitted.  "The CFC has always been about the fancy displays and matching uniforms, even when they're losing."

He chuckled.  "And Anglia isn't?"

"Nope.  That was one of the first things I changed.  Now, a soldier is more likely to be disciplined for leaving his unit mate behind than for breaking rank.  Blaec taught me that.  There's nothing more powerful than the bond between people you can trust.  When it's an entire country?  It makes us unstoppable."

He rubbed her back proudly.  "I like the way you think, kid.  And since we're alone, I wanted to let you know that we're taking care of those boys who jacked your soldier."

"Kolt told me."  Then she paused.  "I also heard they're trainees.  Have you gotten them to talk?"

He let out a sigh, giving her the answer before he even said a word.  "No.  I'm not sure we're going to get much from them, either.  Sounds like the threat of military punishment isn't as terrifying to them as the repercussions of turning on their group."

Kolt asked, "You have any ideas who might be leading it?"

"True Soldiers," Calix grumbled.

"Yeah," Ran said, looking at his aide, "but who are they?  Calix, you may think I'm a daft old human who's oblivious to the world around him, but I'm really not.  I've been hearing whispers about that extremist group for months.  Ever since Sal defected, basically.  And I probably know a hell of a lot more about them than you give me credit for, but I don't have a single clue who runs the show.  Do you?"

The pale little man slowed, refusing to look at the General's face.  "No, sir."

"Why not?" Sal asked, refusing to make this easy on him.  "If they've been causing problems for months, why has no one caught a scent?  Why hasn't someone seen something or gotten a read off them and passed the word?  C'mon, Calix, we're supposed to be tighter than this."

"I know, Kaisae, but it's like there's nothing to lead to.  Readers keep coming up blank.  Those we get a chance to touch just lead us in circles.  It's like clusters of friends daring each other – there's no tie back to any specific leadership that we can find except something as vague as 'everyone thinks' or 'everyone knows' this is the goal.  It's always from a friend of a friend.  The scents we get?  Leather oils and perfumes.  I don't know anyone who can isolate someone's smell under that kind of stench."

Ran huffed, sounding more surprised than frustrated.  "You people can track like a dog?"

That made Kolt chuckle.  "No, sir.  Doesn't work like that.  Everyone has a unique scent, and it lingers for a while."

"Longer in some situations," Calix added, giving Kolt a knowing look.

Kolt nodded, refusing to deny Sal's scent clinging to him.  "But we can't follow them down a street like a dog.  It's more like hearing a voice and recognizing it when you find it later."

"Grauori, however," Sal added, "can.  Their senses make ours look weak by comparison."

"Ah."  Ran was taking this all in.  "So that's how the Shields found them.  Used their sisters."  Then he leaned over to look at Sal.  "And they don't mind being called mutts?"

"Nope," Sal assured him.  "They're amused by it because Anglian humans honestly believed they were merely a type of wolf for many, many years.  They see it as a badge of honor, kinda like sir."

"Ok.  So if I let the mutts sniff at these boys, you think they'd find anything?"

Sal shook her head.  "No.  Nothing that would matter.  They might smell someone who'd been in contact with them, but that's not a good way to judge guilt."

And Ran just stopped, forcing Sal to turn and face him.  "So we're going to sit here and let some stupid teenage boys hang?  That's the penalty here, Sal."

"They beat my soldier, Ran.  Not a little bit, either.  They beat him to death, he just happened to have some friends who can change the rules.  Do you really want me to feel bad about that?"

"Yeah, I kinda do."  He glanced at the retreating cluster of Generals, then back.  "I expect you to do something to change their fucking minds, Sal, not wallow in their deaths.  I expect you to figure out a way to stop this bullshit.  And that's an order, khemma!"

The word meant daughter, and Sal hadn't even realized he knew it.  She also hadn't expected him to give her an order, but she should have.  This was how Ran Sturmgren worked.  He mixed pride, respect, and loyalty together to find the results he needed.  To Sal, that sounded exactly like the definition of father, and she wanted this just as much as he did.

"I understand, dava.  I can't promise I can, but I'll try."

"Good, now let's go see this show of horse manure Command has designed.  Just remember that while they're hosting the show, they're still not the ones in charge."  And he gestured for her to lead the way.

Chapter 33

BY THE TIME THEY ARRIVED at the training field, the Generals were already shuffling into the raised viewing box.  Ilija wasn't far behind, still acting like a blockade to keep the humans where he wanted them, but when they all climbed the stairs, the gap closed.  Inside, the seating was made of rough wood bleachers, but the height gave her a perfect view of the sand covered field, letting her look down on the action.

Sal claimed a spot beside Ran.  Kolt moved to her other side.  The aides set stacks of files before her, each one filled with the combat records of the units she'd chosen.  The Generals, however, moved to look down over the railing.

While Sal got organized, General Albin addressed the attending soldiers standing at attention outside the practice field.  Raising his voice, he explained the purpose of the trial, expounding on the pride being selected would bring to the units.  To Sal's ears, it sounded like the least convincing speech she'd ever heard.

"Will this do, Sal?" Ilija asked.

"I'm good," she assured him.  "You and Rico join the Shields.  Remember, we're looking for men to cover our backs, so worry less about victory and more about style.  Push them.  Test them.  I don't want to see them showing off, I want them to have to think on their feet."

"Yes, sir."

The two Anglian men saluted sharply then turned and headed back down the stairs, making their way to their unit.  Sal looked at the stack of files, wondering how she would ever make it through so many soldiers.  Military Command had given her boxes filled with files on units that should impress her.  She and Kolt had narrowed it down to twenty-five that might fit their needs.  The only problem was that none of them seemed exceptional.

"Show me your best first," Sal said.  "Whoever the Conglomerate is the most proud of."

"Did you want to address the men before we start?" Kaysir asked.

Sal sighed and made her way to the podium, her head barely clearing the railing.  She knew she looked like a child.  It wouldn't shock her at all if the Generals had actually taken that into consideration when making her the offer.  Even the possibility of that made her ears flick back as she glanced around quickly, seeking something to stand on.

Her eyes lit on the wide rail.  It was the only thing that would let her speak and be seen, so she grabbed the edge and hopped, lifting herself to perch carefully on the handspan of wood while she secured her balance.  Then she stood, walking along the thin strip of wood nearly a story over the sandy arena as if it were a dais.

"Soldiers of the Conglomerate of Free Citizens," Sal said, pitching her voice to carry.  "Anglia cannot – and should not – push Terric from your borders without your help.  Every man in this military will be vital to the survival of the country, but I need three units able to stand above the rest.  We're looking for those with the qualities to serve as elites, to adapt and overcome situations we cannot predict.  We need men capable of beating Terric back at any cost, and they can't all be from Anglia."

She saw the faces looking at her, most of them dark, but nearly a quarter of them pale enough to signify iliri ancestry.  "The men I brought with me are better than you.  My Anglians are stronger than you, faster than you, and more savage than you could ever hope to be.  None of you can stand against us, but I'm here to dare you to try.  Show me I'm wrong.  Show me why we should respect the Conglomerate's military.  I will take only three units."  She held up her fingers.  "Out of twenty-five, I need to find those of you that are not an embarrassment to your country."

Sal turned and walked back toward her seat, still balancing on the ledge.  When she was nearly there, she paused and turned back to the crowd below.  "Show me why I'm proud to be a damned soldier.  Prove to me that you can defeat expectations."

She jumped back to the floor to find a half dozen shocked faces staring at her.  Even Ran looked surprised at what she'd said, but it only made sense.  Soldiers knew a bunch of bullshit when they saw it, so she was trying something else.  She'd thrown down the gauntlet, and she hoped it would make them fight that much harder.

Albin twisted his head slightly, but didn't say anything as he walked to the rail and called out, "The 183rd Heavy Infantry!"

Kolt grabbed their file, holding it up until Sal took her place beside him.  She scanned the contents to refresh her mind, then sent a thought to Arctic.  Shieldmen.  They have rigid formations and are known for an impenetrable shield wall.

I'll give them our Shields.  Sounds like they're slow.  Wonder how they'll like being beat down by a King.

Twelve men in white armor marched toward them, spreading apart as they moved.  The idea for the trial was simple.  Practice weapons were used.  A blow that should have resulted in a death removed a soldier from combat, otherwise, they fought until there was a clear victor or the opposing team was all removed from the field.  The number of people watching proved that the men would be at least mostly honest.

At the General's call, the combat was on.  The 183rd moved together, the orders for their formations drifting to Sal's ears.  In the back of her mind, she could hear the mental chatter of the Shields and smiled, waiting for what was about to come.  Covered in weapons, the Verdant Shields stood tall, all of them wielding two swords.  They waited, baiting the shieldmen to close around them, encouraging them to spread their line.  As soon as the men's shoulders moved apart, the Shields struck hard, rushing the solid wall.

Sal watched twelve men use their enemy's defense as steps, leaping easily over their wood blades as they spun in the air, incapacitating the man before them and all of them spinning to the man on their right, taking him out almost as fast.  Within the space of a few heartbeats, the entire unit was declared 'dead.'

"What the fuck was that?" Laibek gasped.

"Twelve men just took out twenty-five," Sal replied.  "We use agility and intelligence."

"Your men are trained to handle shieldmen like that?" Kaysir asked.

Sal shook her head.  "No, Dom remembered me doing something similar when I ran the gauntlet.  Ilija thought it would be fitting.  They organized on the fly."

"Bullshit," Albin snapped.  "They didn't say a word."

Sal looked up at him and sighed.  "No, they thought it.  Anglia runs silent so the enemy can't over hear our commands.  Get me the next unit?"

"The 43rd Mounted," Albin ordered.

Sal opened the file.  Light cavalry, she told her commander.

Grauori, Arctic thought back.  We'll let the Hell Hounds play.  Be aware, this is going to cause a stir.

Should be amusing, Sal agreed, looking at Kolt.

"They're using padded arrows," Ran told her.  "The 43rd crosses between being lancers and archers."

Arrows are padded, Sal warned the Anglians.

And this is where I got my early training, Rayna added.  Was with the 43rd before I became a Dog.

Thank you for the warning, a grauori bitch thought back.  Do not pierce their skin, maargra!  These humans are soft.

Sal chuckled at that, watching the beasts slink onto the sand like they were hunting.  "Seems you'll finally get to see the grauori fight," she told the Generals.  "The Liall Lusarati is the Devil Dog's sister unit.  It translates to Hell Hounds in Glish.  They're considered to be equivalent to grauori elites."

The riders cantered onto the field, sitting their horses easily and the Generals stood, most hovering over the rail.  Ran didn't.  Able to see easily, he reached into his pocket for a small pad of paper.  His eyes tracked the pale beasts and his hand scribbled, taking notes in a strange shorthand known only to him.  When the call to fight came, the grauori surged forward, moving like wolves, doing their best to disrupt the horses – but the riders compensated.

The orders were sharp and quick, often little more than a single word that gave nothing to the opposition.  Maargra darted under hooves, pulled riders from the saddle and slowly whittled down the forces, but the 43rd adjusted for each new tactic.  Sal stood, her ears flicking forward to watch the last five riders attempt a counter assault.

Two pulled crossbows, covering the unit while they regrouped, while the center three drew lances.  Moving together, they took out seven grauori before the Liall Lusarati could adjust.  One bitch pulled a lancer from the saddle, but the human fought on as he fell, defeating the beast on the ground.  Another surged at him, knocking him to the ground and grabbing his throat, but two more maargra were defeated.

Seeing her sister defeated, another bitch roared, standing up on her hind legs, and thrust both of her hands toward the ground.  A pile of weapons appeared before her.  When Sal shifted her eyes to the CFC soldiers, the humans were looking at each other in shock, their hands empty.  The remaining eight beasts swarmed the defenseless riders, but one of the bowmen struck out, cracking a rafrezzi across the muzzle with his foot.  The mutt yelped and lunged at the rider.  The pair hit the ground hard, the vicious snarls audible to even the Generals.

The man wrapped his arms around the grauori, clinging to his back.  He fought to the end, but the remainder of the maargra surrounded him, whuffing their amusement, proving that there was no way for him to escape.

"I concede," he called out, releasing his target with a friendly pat on the shoulder.  "Well fought, um, sirs?"

"Ya, rill do.  Sirr ist close," the leader replied standing on her hind legs to offer him a hand.  "Wras a gud hunt."

"Set that file aside," Sal told Kolt.

He nodded, starting a new stack for her to review later.  Fight after fight, they watched, hoping to see a repeat of the 43rd Mounted.  Archers tried to out-move the Anglians but were cut down easily.  Infantry tried to power through their attackers but crumbled quickly.  The Black Blades fought savagely, competing more with the Devil Dogs and Verdant Shields than the Conglomerate soldiers.

Sal was amused at the bickering in her mind, occasionally laughing at a remark that only she and Kolt could hear.  The Generals ignored her, mostly, trying to determine how the Anglians organized themselves, unable to believe that the answer was truly so simple.  Iliri and grauori mental links were something they still tried to brush off as magic.

Conversely, Ran Sturmgren watched her soldiers, making note of how they used weaknesses to find strengths.  His pen skittered across the paper, filling page after page, unable to take his eyes away.  The Anglians only used their abilities when they had no other option, trying to make the fights more about testing the opponent than winning.  Each time one was used, Ran marked the note.

"If you weren't on my side, you'd be dangerous," Sal told him.

He glanced up quickly.  "You can't read this.  We both know it."

"Don't need to.  I see the pattern, and I have a good idea what you're doing."  She tapped at the list of iliri skills.  "You're looking for our weakness."

He shook his head.  "I already know Anglia's weakness."  He patted her leg.  "And you aren't very weak, Kaisae.  I also think the retribution would be nearly as bad.  I'm trying to find the correlation."

"Senses."  She shrugged.  "I feel like what I am not, Jase touches what someone remembers, Arctic sees what someone thinks, Kolt reaches for what he can't touch.  It's all based on our senses."

"But why?" Ran asked.  "Why would you have developed this?"

Kolt chuckled and leaned back to see around Sal.  "That's easy.  Find the prey, stalk the prey without revealing your position, coordinate the attack, adjust to the environment.  Nearly all our skills are primal."

"What about Audgan?" Ran asked.

Sal shrugged.  "Ghost is a mutant.  Shade is too.  Every once in a while, a child inherits a portion of each parent's skill.   The combination is unpredictable and often unstable.  Mutants tend to be brerror – loaners without a pack – and feral.  The skills are usually strong but take a lot of training to use safely."

"How much iliri ancestry does someone need to have a skill?" Usur asked.

Sal shrugged.  "No idea.  Many aren't aware they have them until we start training them how to use it.  Others stumbled on them as children and kept them secret from humans.  Our culture has been falling down around us for almost three thousand years, and all we have left is the grauori.  Considering that they don't have a problem with purity, well...  What little information the iliri do have left is nothing more than stories and dreams.  There's a lot about our own kind we simply don't know."

"Or won't tell us?"  Usur smiled to take the bite from his words.

"Or that," Sal admitted.  The last unit's attempt had just ended, being no better than the previous ten, leaving Sal empty handed.  "Who's next?" she asked.

"That's it," Kolt told her.

She turned to Albin.  "Find me someone else."

"These are the best we have," he snapped.  "This is what you need to work with!"

She sighed, letting her eyes close in frustration as her head rocked back.  "If I try to use these soldiers, I'll kill them.  None of them can adapt, none of those officers were qualified to adjust the tactics for the situation at hand."

"Calix?" Ran asked, clearing his throat too innocently.  "Would you find something to help relax the Kaisae?"

She paused, turning to look at the little man, the edge of her lip lifting.  Ran knew Calix had been leading training sessions.  She'd told her sadava time and time again that she wanted to prove that iliri could be the Conglomerate's best weapon if only Command would give them a chance.  Right here, right now, he was doing exactly that, and she didn't dare say a thing.

"I can do that, sir," Calix said.  He was looking at Ran, but his words were for Sal.

Turning, he hurried to obey the order.  She listened to his feet race down the stairs and stood, making her way back to the railing.  "Generals, I know that you want to give your men accolades and bragging rights, but those are for parades.  We're talking about a defensive force that might be the only thing standing between your country and the Terran Empire."  She paused to look at each of them in turn.  "I think you have one more unit."

"What are you doing, Sal?" Kolt asked, moving behind her.

She turned to Ran.  "I will not lose this war because your people can't see what's right in front of you, do you understand me?"

He nodded.

"I don't care if any of you like my decisions.  I'm only here to win, and lucky for you, that means keeping your country safe."

Ran nodded again.

"I will not let you humans destroy my people.  Is that clear?"

"I understand, Kaisae," he whispered.

"I will swear these men as Anglians before you can lay a hand on them, or I will show them how to be better and return them to you to make the Conglomerate great."

"What are you saying?" Usur asked.

Sal turned to the balcony and called out, her voice carrying easily.  "I want to see the Second Soldiers."

Chapter 34

"THAT'S NOT A CONGLOMERATE UNIT," Albin said.  "We don't have a group called the Second Soldiers."

"Yes," Sal assured him.  "You do."

Soldiers in blue pushed through the men ringing the side.  None of their weapons matched and the unit insignia on their chests all varied, but they moved with a grace that made Sal smile.  Blades?  Shields?  I want you both on this.

Tactics? Arctic asked.

Rogue iliri, Sal told him.  The same guys we were training yesterday, I think.

His amusement trickled into the back of her head.  Well, then this should be fun.

With a silent command, the Blades and Shields formed into a single unit, men in white moving to the front, men in black hovering right behind them.  Their armor sparkled, perfectly matched, their weapons were exact wooden replicas, and for the first time that day, they treated their opponent as a threat.  The change in their posture was obvious.

Across from them stood a motley crew of iliri crossbreds.  They had to know how outclassed they looked, but the Second Soldiers all held their heads high, aware of how many humans were watching.  This was the chance they'd been hoping for, yet dreading, and their opponents were the best soldiers on the continent.

"Lay on," Sal called.

A low rumble echoed across the field, but Sal couldn't tell if it was from the Blades or the Second Soldiers.  Then the lines collided.  The Shields shifted to block for their brothers as the Second Soldiers darted between them.  They moved in pairs, one always watching the other's back, fighting like cornered animals.  Sal smiled, her eyes moving from one group to the other.  Clearly, a little training had gone a very long way.

Suddenly, Arctic lifted his sword and stepped back, declaring himself defeated.  A Second Soldier did the same.  Next, it was Geo, then Dag from the Verdant Shields.  For each Anglian that went down, a Conglomerate soldier did as well, but the battle was intense.  Wood smacked against wood, the sound deafening even up in the stands.  The line adjusted, bending like a snake as the balance of power shifted between the sides.  Ricown backed out, then Risk, Tebio following soon after.

Shade fought on, Ghost stuck to her side, the pair moving like a whirlwind.  Two Conglomerate iliri fell before them, and the Anglians closed ranks, stepping through each other to trade attackers as they tried to maintain the offense.  Jase and Zep took the center, moving as if one man.  Three of the Second Soldiers died before them, but Danku, Shift, and Zain were all out.  Soon it was only Ghost, Shade, and Sal's cessivi, fighting for everything they had.

She felt the plan before the order sounded in her head.  Jase had taken charge, and the Blades were fighting like the beasts they were.  Sal had never expected Shade to hold her own, but the girl fought with a decade of revenge inside her, pounding it out on anyone that lifted a weapon to her pack.

Calix spun away from her blade, leaving her to his less weary partner, and found himself face to face with Jase.  He snarled, exposing his teeth to the Ahnor, and all hell broke loose.

"Now!" Calix snapped, and the Second Soldiers pushed, trying to entangle the Blades' weapons in the press.

"Out," Ghost cried, ducking away.

Take Shade, Jase thought.

Time to clean up, Zep agreed, turning to cover Shade's back.

Their eyes followed Zep's dark skin, trained to fear humans.  That was their first mistake.  Their second was thinking that Jase fought fair.  He kicked the legs out from under Calix, tapping him in the chest.  Zep shoved the man across from him and turned, exposing his own back.  When the Conglomerate man swung for it, Jase was there, a ceramic dagger at his throat.  The iliri nodded and stepped back as Shade lunged at the woman before her, striking with her teeth, not her sword.  They fell, and Zep cut down the last man, turning in time to see Jase lay his practice sword over Shade's shoulder, his eyes locked on the woman she held.

"Na bad," he said.  "Let her up, Shade."

"Yes, Ahnor."

In the stands above, the Generals weren't happy.  Albin slammed a meaty hand down on the rail.  Kaysir turned away from the arena to pace before the bleachers.  Laibek and Usur just shook their heads.  Sal saw it all, but she didn't bother saying a thing.  It wouldn't do any good.  Clearly, these men were going to fight her on this.  All she could do was sigh, but it was loud enough to be heard.

That one sound gave Albin a direction for his anger.  "You think that's cute, do you?  Putting in a bunch of scrubbers to show our men up?"

Sal jabbed an arm toward the soldiers milling below.  "You trying to say those aren't your men?  In case you missed it, they're wearing blue, not green."

"They're all crossbreds.  Did you honestly think we wouldn't notice?"

Sal felt her lip curling as she stepped toward him.  "I hoped you would.  You see, those soldiers almost took down two of my elite units.  Two, General.  The Blades and the Shields.  If you're too stupid to brag about that, then it's no wonder you're losing this war."

He lifted his hand on instinct, ready to smack her back into place.  It never happened.  Kolt's mind hit hers, she grabbed General Albin's, and everyone froze.

"Don't you dare try that," Sal warned softly.  "The last man who slapped me had his brain ripped apart from the inside out.  I left him a shell of what he was.  You?  I'd kill you."  And she put the slightest amount of pressure on his diaphragm, making him unable to pull in a full breath.  "Do you understand me, General?"

"Yes," he gasped.

She released him, stepping back in case he stumbled.  He didn't.  Even in his shock, General Albin was enough of a soldier to keep his feet, but his face was flushed with anger.

"I'm taking those men on this mission."  Sal tipped her head toward the practice field.  "I'm also taking the 43rd Mounted.  That's two units.  I came here for at least three, but you can't even give me that.  How the fuck do you expect to hold back the Emperor?  He's conscripting soldiers daily, pushing them down here by the thousands, and you're worried about what species you're going to let defend your border?"

"Kaisae," Ran said, gently resting a hand on her shoulder.  "Maybe we should talk to the men first.  Some of those iliri are currently assigned to other duties."

"Then unassign them," she demanded.  "And find me at least ten more soldiers who can keep up.  I'm not saying this because I'm a bitch, Ran.  I just want to kill that bastard, and I've wasted enough time that I can't bring my troops here fast enough."

He nodded.  "So let's find a solution."  Then he turned to Albin.  "And I don't care what species she is.  If you strike our ally like a common slave, the fall of the Conglomerate will be on your head."

***

On the field below, the combatants groaned, some finding their feet, others looking for weapons they'd lost in the melee.  Those who'd "died" were making their way back in and everyone was offering words of encouragement.  The Second Soldiers, however, couldn't wipe the smiles from their faces.  They knew they'd made a good showing; the only question was if it had been good enough.

Helping her up, Zep wiped dust from Shade's back.  "Where'd you learn to fight like that, little sister?"

"Ghost has been helping me, and Karim."  Impulsively, she hugged Zep's waist.  "Thank you for watching my back.  I did good, right?"

"You fucking kicked ass, imp.  No human can stop you now."

"Cept you," the woman she'd defeated grumbled.

Shade pointed at Zep.  "That's my brother.  He's not human.  He's the Dernor of all iliri, cessivi to the Kaisae, and reborn to be one of us.  And he's kind."

Calix chuckled from the other side, still flat out on his back.  "Don't mind her.  So, how'd we do, sirs?"

Jase offered him a hand.  "Good 'nough to make the Kaisae snarl at the Generals."  He cocked his head to the side, his eyes going distant.  "Ya are gonna need armor, preferably matching, so we can pick ya out on the field."

"You're going to Merriton," Zep told him.

"They're going to make us pay for this," the girl said.

Zep shook his head.  "No, I don't think they will.  Sal's made it pretty clear that she won't tolerate that."

Right on cue, her voice carried down from the stands above.  "I want to see the leader of the 43rd Mounted in Ran Sturmgren's office in an hour.  The Second Soldiers wait there.  The rest of the Conglomerate is dismissed!"

The iliri conscripts jumped to their feet, saluting quickly, exactly like everyone else gathered outside the training grounds.

"Shields, you're dismissed," Ilija yelled.

Pig called out next.  "Dogs, I think this is an iliri thing, let's let them have it."

"At ease," Arctic told the Second Soldiers.  "The Kaisae and Generals want to speak with you.  Do you have a linker?"

"No, sir," Calix admitted.  "I'm a fetcher, Nilae is a healer, but untrained, and Orys is a shifter.  The rest of us haven't had it identified yet."

"Why na?" Jase asked.

"Scheduling, mostly," Calix assured him.  "Most of my friends were supposed to stop by this afternoon for a lesson with the Anglians.  We'd hoped to do it then."

"Yeh," Jase agreed.  "Soon as this is over, have them report.  We'll make sure ya know."

"Thank you, sir."

"So how'd we do?" Orys asked, walking toward them.  When he realized who his friend was talking to, he paused, snapping a precise salute.

Arctic and Jase both pressed their fists to their heart, but neither stood at attention to do it, showing that their attitude was casual, not formal as was so often the case in the military.  Then Arctic answered, sparing no criticism but his tone carried respect.

"You have good tactics, but a few of your soldiers lack discipline.  That will come quickly, once you're able to fight side by side against more than each other.  You need to mix your teams, learning the habits of people besides your main partner, but you made good use of the skills you have."

"They need a link," Sal called out, walking toward them with the Generals in tow.  "Find a grauori who can identify it."

"Already on it, Sal," Arctic said.  "Jase is a step ahead of you."

She nodded.  "Then that's their assignment for the day.  Identify each of their skills.  I need these men ready to move by the end of the week."  She turned to the Generals behind her.  "I want matching armor – resin composite – for each of them.  Ask Calix his color preference."

"Only elites get unit colors," Laibek said.

Sal glared at him.  "Then make them elites."  She pointed at the group of iliri soldiers behind her.  "These are the next Black Blades, sirs.  You can either get used to the idea that good soldiers can have pale skin, or you can see your best soldiers defect to Anglia.  By the end of the week, these men will scare the shit out of Terric."

Albin laughed.  "But not you?"

Sal smiled cruelly at him.  "There's one thing that scares me, General, and that's seeing Makiel ruling the continent.  He wants to hang my head on his wall, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let my pride help him do it.  Now stop fucking around.  I'm here to get your borders back, not to play games, and most definitely not to give a shit about human politics.  Do I make myself clear?"

"Are you giving me orders?" Albin sneered.

She growled and stepped toward him.  "Yes."

"Fuck you," General Albin said.  "You wouldn't be shit if it wasn't for the Conglomerate."

"That's enough," Ran snapped, tapping the four stars on his collar.  "Don't make me pull rank here, Albin."

"You're just a damned scrubber lover."

Sal pinned her ears and surged forward, the disrespect to her sadava more than she could take – but Kolt stopped her.  "Enough," he hissed, grabbing her shoulders.  "That's enough, Kaisae.  Breathe.  You should not kill these men."

"He felt that my life was worth one month of latrine duty," she growled.  "I proved him wrong, and still he refuses to give me respect.  He tried to hit me and still hasn't learned.  This one is worthless."

"Let her kill him," Jase growled.

Zep rested his hand on his brother's shoulder, trying to calm his cessivi.  "The war.  We're not here to make friends, we're here to win the war."

Arctic said nothing.  He merely looked at Kolt, noticing the tension in his hands.  That touch was the only thing holding Sal back.  This situation had just shifted from military to political, which meant he had no say in it at all.  With a nod of his head, the leader of the Black Blades turned away, gesturing for his men to follow.  The next move was hers.

Chapter 35

"SAL," KOLT SAID SOFTLY, pressing a bit harder with his fingers to get her attention.

She nodded and forced her body to relax, refusing to look away from Albin.  "I don't care if you like this.  I don't care if you feel somehow better than me.  If you use that word again, I will hang you by the feet, cut your throat and feed you to my brothers.  Do you understand me?"

"You can't."

"Oh, I can," she purred.  "I can make this the biggest diplomatic incident, or I can claim this as an act of war.  See, you forget, I'm the leader of the Anglian military and all iliri."  She took one step closer to him.  "I can fuck up your world, and you have no idea."

"Don't," Kolt said again.  "You cannot force love, Sal, only hate."

"I'm not offended," Ran told her.  "I am a scrubber lover, and I'm proud to admit it."

"I knew it," Albin hissed.

"You're out of line," Usur barked, turning to Albin.

"And they say the iliri are uncivilized," Laibek muttered.  "You're a disgrace to the uniform, Albin.  Get your shit together, or I'll motion for you to be demoted.  Our goal is the defense of our country, not our pride."

The four men turned to Kaysir.  He shrugged.  "What?  He's never led a combat unit.  The man made his stars with requisitions and audits.  I couldn't give a shit about that.  What I want to know is how we're handling the Second Soldiers."

"Make them an elite unit," Usur said.  "The Kaisae is right, they fought better than anything else we have, and their training was all self-taught."

"Was," Zep said.  "Blades have been putting them through their paces."

Laibek turned to Calix.  "You the leader of this shit?"

"Yes, sir," Calix said.  "Started as a way to defend ourselves against attacks from humans, sir.  Most of us are stationed behind a desk."

"What did it end as?" Ran asked.

Calix glanced at Sal quickly and swallowed.  "A backup plan, sir, in case the Conglomerate decided to give our kind to the Terrans to buy peace."

Laibek sighed, shoving his hand over his nearly bald head.  "We can sink thousands of krits into them just to have them defect to Anglia."

Sal shook her head.  "They won't."

"Right."

"We won't, sir," Calix said.  "The Second Soldiers all know about the defection law, and we have for months.  We stayed because we want to be citizens.  Real citizens, sir, not the second class type."

"Why?" Ran asked.

Calix chuckled and glanced down.  "I hate the cold, sir.  It snows in Anglia."

"Not good enough, soldier."

He nodded, looking more like he was trying to convince himself than agreeing.  "General Sturmgren?  We want to stay because someone has to be the first.  If we all leave, then things won't get better here.  The Second Soldiers want to bring freedom to the iliri in the Conglomerate."

"Why?" Ran asked again.

"Because it's the right thing to do, sir.  I know that doesn't mean much to you, but, it matters."

Ran nodded.  "They're loyal," he told the Generals.  "If you treat them with a little bit of respect, they'll stay that way, too."  He tilted his head to Sal.  "They'll still obey her without hesitation, but if you don't make them choose, they'll be the best investment the Conglomerate can make."

"Sir?" Orys asked, stepping toward Calix.  "I think we're going to need a new name, sir."  He glanced at Sal and smiled.  "I wanted to suggest Conglomerate Strike Force."

"Kinda hard to defect with a name like that," Sal said, glancing to General Laibek.

"Pretty easy to change a name," Laibek replied, "but the point is taken."  He sighed and looked at Ran.  "This is your area of expertise, General Sturmgren.  How do you advise?"

Ran said, "Since we have a group that outfought anything we have, that has been offered intensive training by some of the best soldiers on the continent?  I would think it's worth the risk.  I advise immediate promotion of the leaders and that we get them some decent gear."  Then he glanced to Calix.  "I also suggest a better name."

He nodded in agreement, then turned to Sal.  "Sir?  We always joked that one day we'd take the colors of black and blue, sir.  Black for death and blue for the CFC.  The combination to remind us of the beating it took to get here.  Would that be offensive?"

She looked to her mates.  Jase shrugged, but Zep shook his head.  "Demon, I think it's pretty fucking fitting to put the iliri units in black.  Adding the color of faith?  Seems perfect to me."

Kolt spoke up.  "Only problem will be picking them out in the field.  Confusing a Blade with one of the Second Soldiers could be a very bad mistake."

"We'll make sure there's no way that can happen," Ran promised.  "Lieutenant Calix Sezyn, have your men report to supply to be measured for armor.  I'll send down the specifications this afternoon to put a rush on the order.  After that, your men are free to continue their training with Anglia."

"Yes, sir," Calix said, the look in his eye the only sign that he acknowledged the promotion.

"Dismissed."  Ran smiled when the iliri soldiers moved out proudly, their heads held a bit higher.  He turned back to Albin.  "I'm trying really hard to be unbiased, but you have done nothing except try to hinder our alliance with Anglia, Sando.  Either excuse yourself from the strategy meetings or figure out how to overcome your differences with the Kaisae."  He sighed and looked at Sal.  "I honestly believe both of you want the same thing, but someone's going to have to put aside their pride first."

Sal shook her head.  "I'm sorry, Ran, I can't.  I'm the only pride the iliri have left.  Humans have taken it from us for too long, and bowing our heads never got us freedom."  She turned, taking one step toward the exit before pausing.  "I can't.  This time, it's someone else's turn to bend.  Now, I need to speak with the 43rd Mounted.  Jase, you're on my left."

"Always, kitten," he said softly, falling in beside her as they marched toward the General's office.

Zep didn't give Command the chance to either relax or change the subject.  He stepped right into the group of Generals and crossed his arms over his chest.  "Three thousand years," he said, tipping his head in the direction his cessivi had gone.  "That's how long we humans beat them into submission and forced them to hate what they are.  Generation after generation, using their leaders against them, brutalizing them with our habits.  For three thousand years we treated the iliri like animals, and you wonder why they're pissed?"

"No," Usur said.  "I don't.  I didn't do it, though."

Zep chuckled sadly.  "No.  But what did you do to stop it?"

"Nothing," he admitted.  "What are you saying, Sergeant Zepyr?"

"Dernor," Zep corrected.  "I gave up chevrons when I climbed in her bed, General.  I'm about the same as a Colonel now, in Anglia."

"My apologies, sir.  What are you saying, Dernor?"

He turned and caught the man's eyes, acting more iliri than human.  "I'm saying that she was born as an experiment, bred from a species created to make our lives easy, spent her youth being sold to men for entertainment, was beaten down and nearly killed when she got conscripted, and look at her."  He paused, letting the corner of his lip lift slightly.  "She should be trying to destroy humans for what they've done.  She is the natural ruler of every iliri on this continent.  She has an army larger than anything we've ever seen, and she could start a revolution that nothing could stand against, but she's not."

"No," Ran agreed.  "She's not."

"She's doing something to stop this," Zep told them.  "She's declared humans as friends, took one for a mate, and teaches her people that their purity of blood is not as important as their purity of heart.  She gives them pride – without teaching them to hate."  He leaned forward and looked at the group of highly decorated men.  "That's what she is doing to stop it.  She's saving your lives over and over, and only one of you has had the balls to tell her thank you."

"Shit," Kaysir muttered softly.  "She's uniting the species.  Is that what you're saying?"

"She's trying real fucking hard."

Kolt reached up and patted his shoulder.  "Nothing happens quickly, brother.  We'll get there."

"Yeah, man."  Zep sighed.  "Thing is, you can't feel how much those words hurt her, and I can't ignore it.  Every time they call her a scrubber, she knows exactly how true it really is.  She remembers the years she spent wishing for death, and she hates it.  I won't sit by silently while our allies rip her apart from the inside out."

"She's stronger than that, and you know it," Kolt said.

Zep nodded and rubbed at his face.  "Yeah.  But strength is nothing more than getting up one more time.  I just keep hoping that with everything else she's giving up, maybe one day people will stop trying to knock her down.  I need a damned drink.  You good?"

"I'm good," Kolt assured him.  "I'll come with you."

"Nah." Zep shook his head.  "No offense, man, but I need to be alone for a bit.  This shit pisses me off.  Can't remember why I busted my ass so hard for this country some days.  She's trying to unite our people, and they're just making it harder."

"They don't understand," Kolt reminded him.  "They've never had to live through it."

"Did you?" Laibek asked, his eyes on Zep.

The big guy nodded slowly.  "Yeah, kinda.  Wasn't the same, but I saw enough to let me realize how bad life sucks for these people in this country.  Even worse, I got the privilege of hearing my peers brag about the atrocities they were committing like they were trying to one up each other, so yeah.  I kinda understand their suffering.  Enough to hate it, at least."

"Go get a drink," Ran suggested.  "I'll make sure Sal gets her iliri elites."

Zep huffed out one more sigh, then patted Ran's shoulder before heading off the field in a different direction from his mates.  The Generals, however, weren't done.  The complications of this simple change were staring them in the face.

"This is going to be a mess," Laibek muttered.  "Moving those conscripts into a single unit will leave dozens of positions open.  How will we fill those?"

Ran scratched at his jaw, thinking about that for a moment before he answered.  "What about our disabled veterans?  The ones the grauori couldn't put all the way back together?  If we fill requisition spots with them, it lets them continue getting paid, gives them a position that won't tax their bodies, and puts them close to any medical care they'll need."

"And gives them a purpose," Usur agreed.  "Ran, you worry about the new elites.  I'll pull up some records to get replacements."

Laibek murmured to himself in a way that sounded impressed.  "If this works, it might end up being one of the best changes the military has seen in decades."

Albin shook his head at the bunch of them, then turned to leave.  That was all it took for the rest to break up and get started on their own tasks.  Ran was the last, reaching over to clasp Kolt's shoulder before walking away as silently as the rest.  Kolt watched them go, thinking hard about what Zep had said.

So often the Dernor seemed like little more than another iliri, but he wasn't.  Unlike Kolt, Zep had grown up privileged.  He'd never tried to hide it.  Zep had people there to attend his every need – iliri people – ready to jump any time he'd even thought about it.  Zep had seen slaves bought and sold, families bent and broken.  He'd been raised to think that the iliri were disposable.

But he hadn't.

Kolt sighed and turned to follow his brother, keeping his distance.  He'd heard the stories about Zep's childhood, many from Zep's own lips.  He'd been raised to be better than the iliri – or at least think he was – yet he'd never bothered to believe it.  Instead, he'd stood beside them, raised his voice for them, and had fallen in love with them.

He'd died for them, and been paid back with his life.  A better life.  Few men could say the same.  Then he'd used all of that to try to change things a little more.  The least Kolt could do was watch his back.

Chapter 36

AN HOUR LATER, Sal sat on the corner of Ran's desk, her feet swinging beneath her.  She held one of her steel daggers in her hand, spinning it with the point against her finger.  Her ears flicked to the three humans sitting in the chairs beside her, watching Jase prowl across the room as he talked.

"Anglian orders change on the fly.  Because yer unit is human, ya will need ta rely upon hand signs and predesignated objectives."  He turned his deep blue eyes on the Captain.  "I do na give a shit how ya accomplish it, do ya understand?"

"I do, sir," Takara Nashwa, the leader of the unit, said.

"The main objective is easy," Sal told her.  "First, we will need to infiltrate Merriton, identify the Terran spies, and neutralize the work they've done.  The problem is the timing.  Once our military arrives, the Terran army will push.  We need to have the citizens on our side, or we risk being compromised from within."

"How can you be sure that Merriton would turn on us?" the Second Officer, Konir Fedro, asked.

"That's what the Terrans were sent for."  Sal shrugged.  "Their espionage unit is very good at what they do."

Dera Sef, the First Officer, pulled at her lip, looking between the Captain and the Kaisae.  "So what are we supposed to do about that?  I mean, we're light horsemen, not spies."  She lifted her empty hands.  "I can't work with nothing, sirs."

Sal gestured for her to relax.  "I expect the 43rd to be very obvious and very Conglomerate.  I will simply need you to make your presence known at the right time – after the Blades have already set things up.  That will incite the Terrans to put their plan into action."

"Then what?" Dera asked.

Sal chuckled, nodding her head slowly.  "Then I'm going to need you all to trust me."  Her eyes met each of theirs.  "So can I trust you?  Can I trust your men?"

"Yeah," Takara said.  "I don't give a crap about politics, I just want my sister in Eastward to be safe.  I know a lot of us feel the same."

"There's been grumbling about following traitors," Konir admitted, looking at the ladies beside him.  "We shut it down as fast as we hear it, and they'll obey orders, but..."  He looked to his commander for approval.

"She needs to know," Takara said.  "We have at least two anti-iliri members.  Probably more."

Sal nodded.  "Make sure Arctic knows which ones.  We'll do our best to convert them."

"You really think that will work?" Ran asked.

Sal looked behind her, a devious smile on her face.  "Yes.  We're not nearly as horrible once we start answering questions.  Ilija taught us that."

"Knew I liked that man," Ran muttered.  "Ok.  So after you secure Merriton, you're sure the Terrans will press in?"

"Positive," Sal said.  "The plan has not yet changed, and I'll be notified immediately if it does.  The problem is that we'll have to move hard and fast to keep ahead of them.  Terric will have superior numbers, but with one hundred men, we'll be able to hold the line and drive it back to the Siahies."  She looked at the officers of the 43rd Mounted.  "This is going to be hard, fast, and exhausting, but I think you can do it."

"And if we fail?" Takara asked.

"Then we lose Merriton – and possibly all of the southern Conglomerate."  She tilted her head.  "Let's try not to do that?"

Konir chuckled.  "Good plan, sir.  So what about the iliri we saw?  Can they – "

Sal's gasp cut her off.  Without warning, the Kaisae sat up, her eyes focused on nothing, the pupils constricted to mere slits.  At the same time, Jase's head snapped toward the wall.  For a single second, both iliri were on full alert.

"Zep," Sal breathed, dropping to the ground running.

Jase was on her heels.  A hot, red flash screamed in the back of her mind, telling her that the Dernor was seriously wounded.  They had to hurry!

"Sal!" Ran yelled, moving after her.

"Outside the stables," she yelled back, never slowing her feet.  "He's wounded."

Sal! Kolt's voice rang in her mind, hitting the entire unit.  Zep's down!  I've got at least fifteen humans, west of our barn.

Move! Arctic ordered every Anglian he could reach.  West side of stables, attack on the Blades, Kolt is outnumbered, Zep is down.

A cacophony of acknowledgments came back, but the assassins were already in motion.  They ran, following their emotional pull to him.  Turning around the edge of a building, Sal reached out for Kolt's mind, hoping she'd make it before he too was incapacitated.

I'm going to need a heal.  Zep's mental voice was weak.  Kolt, watch your left!

Behind her, Sal could hear Ran screaming for soldiers, ordering assistance to the stables.  It was just one more turn, she thought, leaping over a decorative plant without slowing.  Jase's concern pounded at her, urging her on, Zep's pain only growing.  Finally, she was close enough to feel Kolt so reached for him again, slamming his consciousness into hers, Jase blending with them naturally as she finally laid eyes upon them.

At least twenty, Sal updated her soldiers.  They are going to pay for this.

Kolt stood over Zep's body, a short sword in each hand, his growl deep and rumbling.  He fought hard but refused to move, protecting his brother's body with his own, and bore the wounds to prove it.  Zep was conscious, but only barely, both of his hands clutching at his stomach.  Blood and pale loops of intestines seeped through his fingers.

"Fucking beasts!" one of the attackers yelled, swinging at Kolt.  "We don't fucking need any more pets."

"I'll show you pets," Sal snarled, pulling her swords as she waded into the fray.

Jase never said a word; he just dove in, pulling his own weapons as he ducked a blade, then driving it deep into a man's gut.  Sal slashed one man across the throat, spinning for the next, sinking her teeth into his shoulder as she sliced across his leg, crippling him.  The smell of blood wafted into the air, so clear to her senses, and she felt the tingle across her skin as the maast took her.  Jase's matching bloodlust drove her higher.

She ducked as she spun, avoiding the next weapon, and came up into a man's face.  She lunged, grabbing his throat with her mouth, and pulled.  Blood washed over her as the tender meat tantalized her tongue, but she couldn't enjoy it.  She had to keep moving.  There were too many of them.  They couldn't stop.

She felt Kolt make another kill, then Jase.  The assassins cleared the mob, the brerror holding them from Zep, all of them working in unison.  One man rushed Kolt, who met him with a foot to the chest, pushing him back.  Jase was there, slicing him across the back, severing his spine.  Another tried to grab Sal, but she rushed him, her white blade hitting the air between his legs before she wrenched it up, opening his entire torso.  When the man's crumpling body tore the resin from her hand, she roared out her rage but didn't slow.  Instead, she reached for one of her daggers.

At the edge of her awareness, she heard voices yelling.  With each man she dropped, they grew louder, but in her frenzy, it wasn't important.  In her need to protect her mate, only killing the threat mattered.

"Do not assist!" Arctic yelled as he ran up, half of the Black Blades with him.  "If you are not linked with them, do not get close with a drawn weapon.  They will kill you."

"Kaisae!" Ran ordered, taking a single step forward.  "That's enough!"

Soldiers in grey arrived from the other direction, a few in white scattered among them.  Pig took one look at the scene and started giving orders, only the waving of his hand letting the Conglomerate soldiers know that anything was happening.  The Anglians moved in, securing the men still fighting, doing their best to simply detain them.

Arctic pulled his sword and walked right into the middle of the carnage, his eyes locked on Sal.  "Raz!" he ordered.  Stop.

Jase and Kolt stopped, turning to see the crowd of people forming, but Sal only paused.  Her eyes met Arctic's and she lifted her lip.  "They tried to harm my mate.  I must protect him."

"You did."  He kept walking, refusing to even blink.  "Nas gern suma, Kaisae." Don't do this.  "How many did you kill?"

"As many as it took."  She shifted her hand on the steel blade.  "Now heal my mate, Raewar."

"Yes, Kaisae.  Stand the fuck down."

Sal roared at the command and turned back for Zep, throwing her dagger in her frustration.  She stormed to him, her iliri grief and worry looking like little more than anger, but her men knew better.  They also knew not to intervene.

"I'm gonna live," Zep whispered, lifting his hand.

"Oh baby," she gasped, dropping beside him to ease his other hand from the wound.  "Stop doing this."

"Not today," he joked, but the words were weak.  "This is gonna take Risk, isn't it?"

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the damage.  "I need to get your shirt open, and we're going to have to put all that back inside."

Zep's eyes flicked over her shoulder.  "Not in front of them, Sal."

"We don't have a choice."

He looked at her, pleading.  She leaned closer and kissed him, leaving a dark smear made of blood and the lipstick she'd been so proud of that morning, but Zep didn't care.  Jase moved beside them, reaching up for Zep's other hand while Sal worked his shirt open to expose the injury.

"Ya will na be alone," Jase promised.

Kolt shifted beside Sal, squatting at Zep's shoulder, and gently reached his bare hand to Zep's neck.  "You're about to be one tough motherfucker, bro," he teased, looking over for Risk.

"You are seriously fucked up," Risk noted as he jogged over.  "Sorry, I thought I had some free time."

Zep chuckled and winced.  "Tell Tilso I owe him one."

"Yeah."  Risk's fingers gently traced the edges of the wound.  He looked behind him, his eyes flicking across the crowd, then turned back.  "I have to put your guts back in."

Zep nodded.  "We've done this a time or two."

"Close your eyes," Kolt said.  "We got this, bro.  You won't make a sound."

He didn't.  Risk eased the wound open, guiding loops of slick viscera back through the skin, and the three iliri embraced the pain, their maast blurring it, turning it into a fulfilling sensation.  Zep moaned softly, experiencing the desires of the iliri as his sensations spread between all four of them.  Jase grabbed the back of Sal's neck with his free hand, catching her eyes, the primal need clear for anyone to see.

Then Risk began to heal.  Fire shot through Sal's nerves, able to touch her like nothing else had.  Kolt sucked in a breath, moaning as he clung to Zep.  Jase smiled, but Sal couldn't stop her growl.  She could still smell the blood, Zep's included, and she needed more.  Risk hit him again, and she gasped, closing her eyes to devour the sensation before pushing the resulting pleasure through the link back to Zep.

And then it was done.  Risk leaned back and patted Zep's abs gently.  "Not even a bad scar," he said, pulling himself to his feet.  "Sal, they want to see you."

"Fuck them," she growled.

"Can you hold on?" Kolt asked, pressing his palm against her face.  "Babe?  Can you be the Kaisae right now?"

"I'm always the fucking Kaisae."

"And you're covered in human."  Kolt met her eyes.  "Don't bullshit me.  If you can't, I got this."

She shook her head quickly.  "No.  I think it's time they see what they're playing with.  Zep?  You ok, baby?"

"Good as new, demon.  Let me just hang out a minute.  My brother has my back."

Kolt patted his shoulder.  "Yeah, man.  I don't think they quite knew what they were accusing you of when they called you a scrubber lover."

Zep chuckled, pulling himself to a more comfortable position.  "No, they sure as shit didn't.  You hit them like a damned iliri."

Sal grabbed the back of Kolt's neck, turning his face to hers.  "Thank you.  For standing with him."

"Had nothing to do with you, Sal," Kolt said.

"Doesn't mean I don't appreciate it."  She leaned over and kissed him gently.  "You work with us."

When she pulled away, Kolt reached up to wipe the stain from his face, then sucked it from his fingers.  "Tastes like dessert."  He looked down at Zep.  "Tell me that's not you."

"Not today, man."  Zep held up his hand, blood thick across his palm.  "That's mine."  He grinned and wiped it across Kolt's face.  "Let me know when you're ready to start licking it off me."

"And now I know why she really keeps you around."

Zep chuckled, but it was still a little weak.  "Something like that, bro.  And thanks.  I think you kinda saved my life."

Kolt shifted to sit beside him.  "We're already even, Zep.  Sinna bax genause."

"Yeah, man, this does matter, but we got so many debts between us, how about we just stop counting?"

"Sounds kinda like something brothers would do," Kolt agreed.

Zep flashed him a smile.  "Brothers?  Fuck, I was thinking co-mates."

Kolt let a laugh slip out.  "We seriously need a better word for that, but I'm in."

"Yeah," Zep told him.  "You are.  I think I'll keep ya."

Chapter 37

SAL PULLED HERSELF to her feet and marched toward the line of Conglomerate onlookers.  There, standing at the front was not only her sadava but all of the Generals.  Behind them was a crowd of soldiers.  She could only assume they'd been called in to deal with the disturbance.  She also didn't really care.  This had just crossed the line.

Blood covered most of Sal's face and ran down her neck, disappearing beneath the dark rings of her armor.  Her makeup was destroyed because of it.  She could feel the remnants of mascara on her cheeks and vaguely remembered wiping at her mouth at least once, but that wasn't the worst of it.  Red stains glistened across her black cuirass.  They would be nearly invisible once dry, but her white skin hid nothing.

Jase was nearly as bad.  His hands were stained and streaks of gore lined his face.  The pale hilts of the daggers along his legs proved the point, four of the ten darkened with Conglomerate blood.  She honestly hoped all of these humans saw.

"Those scrubbers attacked them like dogs," someone in the crowd whispered, proving they did.  "Destroyed the entire unit."

"What are they?"

"Did three iliri really take out twenty-five men?"

"Sal?"  The last was Tyr.  He lifted his hand, fingers on the blade of her dagger, the hilt up.  "One should not throw away two kilos of steel in anger."

"Thanks," she said, holding out her hand.  "Can you find my sword in that mess?"

"Sure."

Tyr tossed the steel over, turning back to the prisoners even before Sal caught it.  She slid it into the sheath at the back of her belt, her eyes scanning the mess she'd left behind.  A simmering anger urged her to keep going, but she knew that was the maast.  This fight was over.  Grauori knelt over Conglomerate soldiers – Dogs waiting to detain them – healing the men Sal had worked so hard to dismember.  Amidst the dozens of wounded, a few lay motionless.  Two were her kills, and her body demanded that she claim them.  She couldn't.  That wouldn't make this any easier.

Sal took a long breath and pulled her eyes away from the dead.  "I want to know who was stupid enough to attack the Dernor," she asked, pitching her voice for the crowd.

"That's the 68th Infantry, Kaisae," a man said, the bars of a Lieutenant on his shoulders.  "They were dismissed from the trials earlier today, defeated by the Black Blades, and weren't happy about it."

"How the fuck did this happen inside the base?" she demanded.

Ran took a step toward her.  "Kaisae, you're a mess.  Should I get something for you to clean up?"

"No."  She licked her lips.  "Unless I wash this away completely, moistening the blood only makes the scent stronger."  She smiled, but the look was wild.  "That makes it worse.  We were made to eat our kills, but we're trying to respect your nation's culture."

Whispers rushed through the crowd, the men closest passing that to those further back.  Ran sighed.  "Are you pressing charges?"

"Yeh," Jase replied before she could.  His voice was cold.  "I want ever' one of those men court-martialed.  If we were anywhere else, they'd be dead.  They attacked my brother – "

"My mate," Sal added.

"They will pay for it," Jase finished.

Dom pushed beside Sal, reaching down to pull a strand of hair from her neck.  Dried blood cracked before it came free.  "You ok?"

"It wasn't her that was attacked," Albin reminded the King.

Dom clenched his teeth together so hard Sal could hear it.  "Yeah, it kinda was.  That's how iliri work, you dumbass."

"I'm fine.  Zep's fine.  Kolt had his back."

The King bobbed his head in acknowledgment but glanced at Jase before turning to the officers.  "I'm going to make this real clear.  The humans of Anglia will not stand for this.  The next time one of ours is attacked, whoever tries will die.  Human, iliri, grauori, I don't care.  I don't even give a shit who starts it.  A Conglomerate soldier raises a blade to any Anglian, and I'll turn my men loose on the lot of you."

"Thought she led the military," Albin sneered.

"She does.  I handle the treaties."  Dom raised one eyebrow.  "You really want to do this?"

Behind her, the prisoners were being gathered and led to the stockade.  A gentle breeze wafted past, carrying the scent of their blood on it.  Sal closed her eyes as a surge of need hit her.  "Dom, we need to go."

"Can't take it?" Albin taunted.  "You kill good men and can't handle the reality of it?"

Ran lifted a hand, halting him.  "What do you need, Sal?"

She blinked slowly, one hand clenching into a fist.  "Need?  Fresh air.  Want?  Just one carcass."  She let out her breath slowly, her slit eyes finding Albin's.  "I'm not a fucking toy.  You want to see what happens when we're not playing with you?"  She pointed at the dark stains on the ground behind her.  "Twenty-five of your soldiers jumped one of mine, and we knew.  We knew!  I had three units here before you had your head out of your ass.  Don't fuck with me today!"

"Time to go," Kolt said, moving to stand before her.  "Ahnor?  I think you need to deal with her."

"C'mon, kitten, I believe yer Vargwar has spoken."

Kolt chuckled at the new title.  "That'll do, sir.  I got this."

"Vargwar?" Albin asked as Jase tugged Sal away.

"Voice," Dom translated.  "Most often the voice of the leader, but can be used as an official translator.  The Vargwar's words are assumed to be the thoughts of the leader he's claimed by."

"So you're translating for the Kaisae?"

Kolt clasped his hands behind his back.  "Something like that.  I'm basically keeping her from trying to eat you.  They're in maast.  That's bloodlust to you humans.  Berserk.  Both the Kaisae and the Ahnor are true predators.  You wouldn't try to poke a bear protecting its cubs, and yet, here you are, doing your best to become her next victim."

"Hers?  Not his?"

Dom laughed snidely and shook his head.  "No, Jase is too much of a gentleman for that.  He'd let her have the pleasure – since they share the sensation.  Now, explain to me how this happened?  How did a recognized consort of Anglia get attacked in daylight, much less in the middle of a military base?"

"He was alone," Albin said.

"You mean to tell me that an allied base is enemy territory?" Dom asked.

"No, but – "

"Then that's an excuse," Dom told him.  "Try harder, General.  How did my co-ruler's mate get attacked in broad daylight by an entire unit of Conglomerate soldiers and not a single person lifted a hand to stop it?"

Ran sighed.  "It's been brewing for a while, sire."

"Dom."

"Dom," Ran corrected.  "Iliri-human relations are tense.  They have been for a while."

"Why?"  Dom's face was stern.  "Let me ask that another way.  Is one-third of my country threatened by the Conglomerate?"

"I assure you," Albin said, shifting to be seen.  "The Conglomerate is more than happy to work with you."

"But not the Kaisae?" Dom shot back.  "See, we're a packaged deal.  None of my human soldiers will lift a damned blade for you unless the Kaisae wills it.  I do not control them, General.  She does.  No matter how many times we tell you that, it hasn't seemed to sink in yet.  Well, let me put it bluntly.  Salryc Luxx is the true leader of Anglia.  Even I obey her orders."

"All of us do," Kolt growled softly.  "The humans, the iliri, and the grauori.  Ignoring it won't make it any less true."

"And I won't stand for this."  Dom crossed his arms, his jaw set.  "We're putting your soldiers back together, cleaning up your borders, and your men..." He raised his voice, "are trying to cause a war with Anglia.  I'll pull my entire country out of here unless this shit changes real fast.  I suggest your soldiers start policing each other a whole lot better!"

"Doing nothing is no longer an acceptable excuse," Kolt said, his eyes scanning the crowd.

"That's rich, coming from a traitor," someone yelled.

From behind him, Ghost yelled back.  "Don't give me that shit.  You chased all of us out, and now you're pissed that we left.  Grow a fucking pair."

"Enough!" Ran snapped.

"You're next!" someone else called out, trusting to the anonymity of the crowd to protect him.

"Ghost, hit 'em," Arctic ordered.  "I want them all on the ground."

The voices of humans fell silent for a single breath, then chaos erupted.  Kolt reached out quickly and grabbed Albin, his hand digging into the flesh of the General's shoulder to pull him from the wave of fear, knowing Ghost would sense the tactile link.  The rest of the soldiers panicked.  Some ran, others crumpled, but most tried to do a combination of the two.  Held before him, Albin's head whipped from side to side, trying to watch it all.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked.

Dom chuckled.  "It's magic.  Let them go, men.  That's enough."

Arctic nodded, and Ghost opened his eyes, glaring at the crowd of people.  He blinked twice then turned back to what he had been doing, completely unconcerned.

"Iliri fear," Ran breathed, not even bothering to calm the soldiers.  "Fuck.  How many can you hit?"

"All of them," Kolt said.  "That's what saved Forward Camp two years ago.  That's why Terric up and left, and you could never figure out why."

"And we have a lot more than that," Dom assured them.  "Ghost is only one very small advantage.  We have others that make his abilities look like parlor tricks.  Ever wonder why the Black Blades is such a strange crew of soldiers?"

"What others?" Albin asked, his voice a lot less confident than it had been before.

Dom smiled.  "Now why would I tell you that?  You block me at every turn, taunt the Kaisae without shame, and are generally a dick.  Remind me again what's in this for me?"

Both men stood there, waiting for Albin to answer.  His mouth opened twice but no words came out.  Ran said nothing, the look on his face proving he was aware of the point the Anglians were trying to make and unwilling to be the one to ruin it.

"I'm sorry," Dom said, lifting his hand to his ear.  "I didn't hear an answer.  Does that mean we aren't getting anything for this?  I'm putting my men's lives at risk, and you're taking that for granted?  Your soldiers have been running around bitching about our help since we got here, but we're the only ones making a dent in this war!"

"We're putting our own soldiers' lives at risk too," Albin stammered.

"It's your country."  Dom shrugged.  "Try harder.  You have until the end of the week to convince me to head south."  He turned back to the elite soldiers behind him.  "Anglians, you're dismissed.  I want no one outside of the barracks alone.  I don't care what unit you're with, but keep your minds open.  The next time this happens, kill anyone that lifts a weapon."

They all snapped to attention and pressed their fists to their heart in unison.  "Yes, sir!"

Dom turned back to the small cluster of officers.  "They will, too.  I'm not fucking around. I don't care if it's at a bar or in the middle of the fucking street.  I'm tired of my allies trying to kill my soldiers.  I've had more than enough of your people killing mine and trying to act like it's justified.  Yeah, and you'd better be prepared for some serious blow back from the Kaisae over this."  He raised his voice to the crowd.  "Whoever wanted to see her snap?  Well, it's not going to work like you wanted.  You just made yourself her prey, and you'd better believe that she's already hunting you."

He turned and marched away, leaving the Conglomerate officers staring in shock.

Chapter 38

NOT EVEN AN HOUR LATER, Sal's maast had been calmed but not her anger.  From the bathing room, she was issuing orders at the top of her lungs while removing the last traces of the massacre from her body.  Zep sat in the living room, his elbows resting on his knees as he tried to convince her to stop and think.  Thankfully, Jase was staying out of this, occupying himself with cleaning his daggers.  It both calmed him and prepared him for the next attack, but that was as close to cooling off as the little man ever really got.

"I want those mutts out there tracking!" Sal bellowed.

Zep shook his head, knowing she could feel it.  "Tracking what, baby?  The people who attacked me are either detained or dead."

"Something!"  A splash followed that.  "Someone's stirring things up, and I want to know who.  Have them check for scents off the men in custody."

"Who have been surrounded by loyal Conglomerate soldiers that had nothing to do with this?  They won't get anything from them.  Make sure you get all the blood out of your hair, demon."

Another slush of water proved she was at least listening.  "Then take Jase to them.  We'll question them our way."

"Already tried that with the first group, Sal.  They don't know who's leading the show.  It's not exactly an organized thing and having a disgusting opinion isn't illegal in this country."

"It is in mine!"

"Sal," Zep said softly, knowing she was listening to his mind more than his voice.  "It's a very small step between something you don't like and something someone else doesn't.  What you're talking about isn't freedom, it's oppression.  It's legislating thoughts."

"It's called protecting my pack!"

"No," he soothed.  "It's fear, baby.  I know you want revenge, but it's not that easy.  Pig and his guys have been talking to people and are getting closer.  That's what you wanted him to do, so let them help.  Let's do this the right way – because everyone is watching you right now, ok?  Every single thing you do is setting the precedent for our people and I, for one, wouldn't like to live in a world where little human boys are hunted on sight."

He's right.  Jase's thought was calm and too controlled, but it stopped her rage.

I don't want him to be right, she finally admitted.

Jase's hands paused, the blade still halfway across the whetstone.  I know, but ya can na set us against them.  Ya can na make people obey.  Ya lead us, Sal, but is this really the way ya wanna lead?  Do ya really wanna see the balance swing so far the other way?  Do ya honestly wanna be just like him?

The Emperor.  Jase didn't have to say it for all three of them to understand what he meant, but he had a point.  It was such an easy line to cross.  Right now, that type of thinking felt so justified – but that didn't make it right.  If she made it a crime to hate iliri, what was next?  A crime to hate the haters?  To dislike anything the Kaisae wasn't fond of?  Freedom meant having the right to disagree, to make a case, and to have a thought that wasn't forced upon the citizens by their leaders.  It should have nothing to do with who was stronger, who was more popular, or who had more resources at their disposal.  They'd started fighting so long ago to make a difference, and now they had.  But they needed to make sure it was the right one.

"Sal," Zep told his hands, letting the words travel through his mind, "do you remember how the Emperor rose to power?"

The water sloshing was his only answer, but he knew she was listening.

"They gave it to him, baby.  He was charming, and his people loved him.  They thought he was fair.  He said he was working to make their lives better.  He was – at the expense of ours.  You once promised me that you were nothing like him.  Please don't change your mind now."

The bedroom door slowly creaked as she made her way out, only a towel wrapped around her body.  "So how do I fix this?" she asked.

He sat back and opened his arms, making room for her on his lap.  "You think it through, baby.  Not everything is solved with teeth and swords."

"But they tried to kill you!"

"And yet I'm still here."  He kissed her temple and wrapped his arms around her tiny body.  "I'm always going to be here, Sal.  What is it Kolt always tells you?"

She knew the exact line he meant.  "We've fought too hard against tyranny to participate in it ourselves."

"That's it."  This time he kissed her cheek.  "I love you, demon.  I will always love you, but I'd kinda prefer to do it while sitting on my high horse instead of being some kind of glorified villain, ok?  I'm fine.  My three mates saved me –"

"What?!" Her eyes met his.

Zep shrugged, but a devious little smile was starting to curl one side of his mouth.  "What else do I call Jase and Kolt?"

"Kolt's not..."  She paused, letting the sentence die.  "I guess he is."

"He is," Zep assured her.  "All that's left are the formalities, but you can get to those later."

A tiny giggle slipped out as she relaxed against his chest.  "What do you think, Taunor?"

"Definitely na Ahnor," Jase told her, making his way to claim the spot beside them.  "I do na want my big brother ta lose Dernor either."

"I can do Taunor again," Zep said.  "I mean, since I'm at your back already.

Sal chewed at her lower lip, thinking about it.  "Does it really matter?"

"Not to me," Zep promised.  "I don't know if it will to him.  Titles don't say a thing about how you feel.  I figure it's more an indication of who came first, for us.  I can only guess he'd think the same, but have you considered asking him?"

Reaching over, she caught Jase's hand but didn't pull away from Zep's strong chest.  "Not until after I talked to you two about it.  You really think I should do this?"

"Yeh."  Jase squeezed her fingers.  "Yer Vargwar is a good man, but do na ask him if ya are na sure."

"I like him," Zep admitted.  "Didn't think I would, but yeah.  He's a lot better with us than Blaec ever was."

Sal nodded, refusing to make too much of his admission.  "Then I'll think about it.  Not right now, though.  The last thing I need is to get distracted by men when we still haven't figured out who organized these uprisings in Fort Landing."

"True."  Zep grinned at her.  "But it did calm down that temper of yours.  And Sal, maybe this isn't even our problem to deal with.  Have you ever thought of that?"

She leaned back to see his face.  "So... what?  Just ride out of here without doing anything?  Leave the rest of our people vulnerable because we couldn't be bothered?"

"No.  You've already given them a way out.  But not all of them want the easy answer, baby."  Zep tapped her nose.  "Calix said it himself.  Someone has to change things here.  He wasn't talking about you."

"But the Conglomerate can't afford to lose any more soldiers.  It'll weaken our strategy.  And you know these extremists aren't going to suddenly accept working beside iliri."

"Mm."  Zep nodded.  "You're right.  Which means it might also be the thing to convince them to start changing."

She huffed in annoyance.  "Are you just going to counter every point I make?"

"If it makes you think, then yes."  Zep shifted, moving so he could see Jase easier.  "But I can't deny that someone is stirring things up.  My big problem is the dead iliri Orys found.  That, my dear, points to Terric."

"So it is our problem," she gloated right as someone tapped at the door.

"Go away," Zep yelled.

A chuckle came from the other side.  "Came to make sure you were ok."  It was Kolt.

It's unlocked, Jase thought, letting Kolt know he was invited in.

That was all he needed.  Kolt stepped inside, noticed Sal sitting on Zep's lap in nothing but a towel, and a little smile began to form on his mouth.  "Looks like you're feeling better, Zep."

The big guy chuckled.  "She tends to have that effect.  Coffee's still lukewarm if you want any."

"I'm good."  Kolt claimed the last empty chair in the room.  "Thought I'd give you an update on what happened after you left."

Jase's head canted to the side.  "And ya were na worried that she'd still be in maast?"

"Not real worried about her in maast," Kolt assured him.  "Besides, there weren't any more fun noises coming from this side of my room, so I figured play time was over."

Sal let her head drop in mock shame, but Jase wasn't going to accept that.  "Yer timing is always good.  Ya ever think about that?"

Kolt's eyes flicked up, stopping when they met Jase's.  "I'm not listening in."

"Are ya sure?"

Sal looked between both of them.  "What are you saying, Jase?"

The Ahnor smiled, but it was Zep who answered.  "He's saying that Kolt has a funny habit of appearing when you need him most.  Merriton, Fort Landing, the Terran encampment, the night you snuck out to grieve, the morning in Prin when you backhanded some CFC officer.  When you need someone close, he tends to just show up."  Then he looked over at Kolt.  "Don't think we haven't noticed."

"Why?" Sal finally asked.

Kolt scratched at the top of his head, doing his best to look casual.  "I can't answer that, Sal.  Coincidence?  If so, I'm on a real nice lucky streak, and I'm ok with that.  But that's the thing, it's honestly been nothing more than coincidence.  How else would I know?"

Jase's smile grew a little more.  "Fer the same reason ya do na sleep well?"

That made everyone in the room look at Sal.  She just sighed.  "Fine.  Whatever.  Can we please get back to the problem at hand?  Someone's informing Terric of our military plans.  We have extremists trying to kill us anytime we're alone.  How are we supposed to carry out an effective military campaign if we're being attacked by both sides?"

"And you need more men," Kolt said, nodding as he pondered the problem.

Sal waved that away.  "The 97th Pikemen are here.  I'll take a portion of their unit, leaving enough here to cover the guard on the dig site.  They've already proven themselves to me.  Mostly, I just want to stop having to watch my back outside this room!"

"Ok."  Kolt lifted a hand, begging Sal to let him speak.  "Well, then you should know that the 68th Infantry decided to do this on their own, or so they say.  Now, interestingly, a few of the men who jacked Caein seemed to know them.  Joevar had an idea, and with Calix's help, they found a real cute little crossbred girl who's a reader."

"Whose idea of cute?" Sal asked.

"Joevar's."  Kolt's smug look proved he noticed her jealousy.  "Well, guess who's going to be watching them while they're in their cells for the next shift?  Oh yeah."

"So," Zep teased, pausing to kiss the side of her neck, "guess this means you can stop worrying now, huh?"

"No," Sal mumbled.  "It's not right.  Every one of them is tied to something, but I can't see it.  There's something right in front of me that I'm missing!"

Jase leaned over to see her face.  "Kitten?  Are ya ok?"

"She's fine," Kolt snapped.

Jase's head snapped to him, a rumble starting in his throat.  "Ya do na know what yer talking about."

"I do," Kolt insisted.  "I also know exactly what you're thinking, but she's not losing her mind.  She's gaining something else – and if you two would stop worrying about her, then maybe she'd stop worrying about the implications of it."

"Kolt..." Zep tried.

"Stop!" Sal ordered, unable to deal with this.  "Yes, I'm losing my mind, ok?  I'm just not sure that's a bad thing.  We all know it means we're close to the end, but why?"  She paused to look at each of their faces.  "Marnia says that even our maast exists for an evolutionary reason, so why would Kaisaes always lose their minds if there isn't a bigger picture?"

"There's got to be," Kolt agreed.

Jase shook his head.  "It does na have ta be a good one.  Sal, what if it's a limitation on how strong ya can get?"

Rayna's words flashed through her mind, daring her to overcome this.  For some reason, they felt more true than her other option.  Going insane just to leave her people without a leader?  It made no sense.  It would do nothing to strengthen their species.  But if she could learn how to control this...

"I think it is," she told them.  "I think it's a Kaisae's final skill.  I think that I can see the connections between things the same way a prophet gets visions, but I have to prove I'm strong enough to master it.  Otherwise, all the possibilities would blind me."  She pulled in a deep breath.  "I think knowing too much is what broke the other Kaisaes.  They were too greedy.  If I want to master this, the first step is knowing when to – and when not to – use it."

As she talked, Zep's arms had been tightening around her, hugging her closer.  "How could you know, Sal?"

"Because this skill isn't one I use.  It uses me.  Because I watched Blaec suffer because of what he knew.  Because I am the strongest Kaisae in history, and that means something, right?"  She turned to see his face.  "I need you to trust that I'm still in control for a little longer, ok?"

"Forever," Zep promised.  "Besides, I have a feeling that when your sanity goes, mine will be right there with you."

"Sal," Jase said gently, "ya need ta talk ta Arctic."

"No, she doesn't," Kolt countered.  "You and I do, Jase.  We need to convince him that this doesn't have to be a bad thing."

"But –"

Kolt's hand slapped down on the arm of the chair.  "I don't fucking care what your history books say, Ahnor.  Link with her when it happens.  I did!  I can tell you that she's not making this up.  The pull of destiny isn't chaos.  It's the complete opposite of that, but it's more than most people can understand.  It's wild and complicated and confusing, but it's a pattern she can use if she just stops trying to run away from it!"

"And ya do na think that will twist her mind?"

Kolt slowly shook his head.  "Not if we help.  Just like we shared Zep's pain so he could get healed without screaming, we can share this with her.  Together, I think we are strong enough to withstand ayati, don't you?"

Behind her, Zep was nodding.  Beside her, Jase was smiling.  Sal, however, wasn't as sure about this.  She'd planned to face this challenge on her own, terrified she'd lose, but putting it on them?  Would she merely be dooming them to her own failure?

Jase looked over, feeling her concern.  "Yer not Blaec.  Do na make the same mistakes he did.  Sal, ya once told him that he needed ta learn how to lean on someone.  Ya do too."

"Let us help," Zep whispered into her ear.

"I already told you," Kolt said, leaning closer, "that this is what I want.  We all do."

"Even if it means I kill you?"

He nodded.  "Even then, because at least my life will matter."  Then he glanced over to Jase.  "I think that's one thing we all agree on."

"Just one problem," Zep said as Kolt's head snapped to face the door.  He paused, but when nothing happened, kept going.  "If we're supposed to be her support, then is three enough?  Never heard of a table with three legs or a building with only three points of foundation."

"Does na matter," Jase said, but Kolt cut him off by surging to his feet.

"Sorry," he told the Ahnor as he stormed to the door and yanked it open.  "I fuckin' said I was busy."

On the other side, Tyr leaned lazily, wearing the same smirk as always.  "And I told you that I'm gonna need at least one of you little shits to come help, because I still don't have any of these mystical skills you all get.  Sal ordered the Second Soldiers to get their abilities identified, and I got no Blades, so guess what?"  He tipped his head at Kolt.  "Conscripted.  Now kiss the girl and let's go."

Jase chuckled, slowly pushing himself off the couch.  "I do na think ya need ta worry," he told Zep.  "More will show up.  If she needs them, she will find them."  Then he grabbed his weapons belt.  "I can help ya, Tyr.  Zep's gonna take Sal ta the meeting."

"Fuck," Sal groaned.  "Another one?"

"Right." Zep chuckled.  "You were fucking when Arctic passed that along.  Yes, demon.  Command wants to know why they lost an entire unit to their allies.  I'm thinking we should go in uniform, huh?  How about you go put one on?"

Tyr chuckled from the doorway.  "Hey, Sal?  Ya gonna give me another show while you're at it?"

With a groan, she tromped into the bedroom, pretending she hadn't heard, but she couldn't stop a little smile from taking over.  Zep was fine, Jase was amazing, Kolt was perfectly comfortable with them, and Tyr?  Things were finally back to normal with Tyr.  That meant she could face anything the world tried to throw at her – even Military Command.

Chapter 39

SAL WAS STARTING TO THINK this country would suffocate her before she got the chance to deal with the extremists.  From every side of the War Room, a cacophony of smells came at her.  Albin was angry and scared, all at the same time.  Laibek was annoyed, if slightly amused.  Usur really should have had a bath.  She could almost taste the stale sweat on him.  Kaysir smelled sweet, proving there was an injury under his uniform somewhere.  Something minor.  Then there was Ran.

Like always, her sadava smelled like only himself.  Like her, he watched the others ranting with a bored expression on his face.  Unlike her, she was pretty sure he was paying attention.  Sal didn't need to.  She knew where this was going.  Albin was crying about numbers.  Usur was worried about replacements.  Kaysir only cared about the fairness of it and the precedent it would set.  It was Laibek that she didn't understand.

"What's so funny?" Sal finally asked, her voice stopping Albin's rant.

They all looked at her, then followed her eyes to Laibek.  Slowly, he leaned back in his chair and pushed at the uppermost pages before him.  The scent of amusement grew a little stronger, but his face never cracked.

"I think you may have shown your hand.  By taking out the 68th, we need to move another unit to cover the southern pass, because that's where they were headed.  But that would give Terric the advantage.  Every time we move less than eight units together, they get ambushed.  The enemy is watching us.  There's a good chance we'll lose half the men we send out, and your defense of the southern tip just got that much weaker."

Sal tilted her head slightly.  "And why is that so funny?"

Like a switch, his scent changed, but his posture didn't.  "It's not."

"Right."  Gesturing for the others to take their seat, Sal kept her focus on Laibek.  "You need to control your emotions, General.  Humans read faces.  Not us.  The scent of your amusement is distinct, and I don't like feeling left out of the joke."

"Well, I guess that clears up my last concern."  He shoved two papers to the side and tapped the third.  "I've got a long list of complaints about requisition clerks being late to their assigned duties."  That paper got pushed over, and he tapped the next.  "This is an abbreviated list of iliri conscripts asking for transfers to combat units."  Then he pushed that one out of the way, too.  "And this is a list of fully operational units ready to be deployed.  Oddly, over half have archer designations.  I've been trying to figure out if you planned this."

"Planned what?" Sal asked.

Ran rocked his chair forward, propelling himself to his feet.  Chuckling, he made his way to the side board.  "Pretty sure she hasn't caught on yet, Elcin."

Laibek pushed his lower lip out and nodded.  "I'm kinda getting that impression."

"To what?" Usur asked.

"To the fact that most of our sound units are made up of iliri.  To the reality that if we want to get troops all the way to their destination, we need to do it en masse.  That's the only way we can prevent the Terrans from picking them off at their leisure, but it will give the enemy advance warning that we're doing something."  Laibek shuffled through a few more pages until he found the one he wanted.  "And Sturmgren gave me this list of human officers willing to accept demotions for a transfer."

Sal's head snapped over to Ran, her ears flicking back in annoyance.  "You gave him the scrubber lovers?"

"I did," Ran told her.  "Kid, I deal with the elite units.  Right now, my hands are full trying to find enough bodies to fill the ranks back up.  You just took Calix from me, my last aide was useless, and I don't have another yet.  Laibek handles general operations and disbursement.  It's his area of expertise."

Albin leaned over to snatch the paper from Laibek's hands.  "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Improving your military," Sal explained.

Usur leaned to read the page over Albin's shoulder.  "By demoting human officers?"

"Combined arms," Sal told them, then paused.  "Generals, can we please set aside the posturing and politics for a moment?  For once, can we actually have an honest talk?"

Laibek smiled, tipping his head in agreement.  Kaysir shrugged.  Usur grunted something that could be taken as agreement, but Albin finally nodded.  Walking back with a glass of clear water, Ran said, "I think they work better that way.  Whatcha got, Sal?  Lay it on us."

"You have a serious problem in your military.  The tension between species is building.  That's what made the 68th attack Zep.  Not because they were dismissed, but because they were shown up by scrubbers.  Now, if they're willing to do that to a diplomatic envoy and military ally?  What do you people think is going on right under your noses."

"Always been problems with scrubbers getting out of line," Albin grumbled.

Usur sighed, shaking his head.  "Not helpful."  Then he looked at Sal.  "So what's this big plan you have?"

She pointed to the list of humans willing to be demoted.  "Those scrubber lovers are the answer."  Then she tilted her head toward Zep, who sat beside her.  "Guys like him.  In Anglia, we keep embedding units of one species with the nation of another.  A unit of humans with the grauori, another with the iliri, and a couple of units of grauori working in tangent with human units.  Sister units we call them.  Know what happened?"

"It worked?" Kaysir guessed.

"Oh, yeah.  One man, usually a human, does a favor for another species, and next thing we know, it's cascading.  One man helping a grauori put up a tent on a rainy night is the reason we took Syhar.  That tent was paid back with a meal, which was paid back by getting a wounded grauori from another unit off the front line and to a healer.  Next thing we knew, we had humans staring down heavy cavalry charges because they knew their sister unit would save them.  Trust formed.  That one change, Generals, made Anglia unstoppable.  But here, you're going the other way.  You're encouraging your soldiers to fight more with each other than against Terric."

"And demotions will help fix that?" Laibek asked.

"Those men," Sal pointed to the list, "are willing to accept a demotion in exchange for command of a unit.  They're humans who otherwise wouldn't be eligible for a leadership position.  Most – not all – don't care that their new soldiers might be bleached and have a habit of growling.  I'd go so far as to say that most soldiers in the CFC have no problem with iliri at all, but they also never had the chance to get to know any.  Others grew up beside them and can't understand the division."

At the side, Kaysir was nodding.  "So, instead of putting a human unit in charge of organizing multiple iliri units, you're suggesting we put a human in charge of each and treat them as typical human units?"

"Treat them all as Conglomerate soldiers," Sal said.  "You don't have the manpower to continue like you were.  By requiring a demotion, you'll get the people looking to help, not just the ones wanting a pay raise."  She paused, letting a heavy breath fall out.  "And it means you'll stop sending my people into a fight completely unprepared.  Sirs, the iliri can do a whole lot more than catch arrows.  If you organize us into packs, we will bond.  It won't be perfect, but in most cases, those iliri will find their niche and become the most aggressive soldiers you've ever seen.  We're predators.  Use us as such, and keep a human around to balance them."

"Tell 'em the rest, Sal," Ran said softly.

She nodded, looking around the table at the men who held her species future in their hands.  "We see better.  You already know that.  We also hear well enough to brace for attack before the enemy knows we're aware of them.  We smell so much more than you can imagine.  Most of us can identify such subtle things as the variations in resin compounds.  Raven feathers.  Lies.  Then there are the skills that we've been too scared to let humans know we had."  She tapped her head.  "Anglians aren't the only ones who can heal like what you saw in the hospital.  Yes, Risk is unique, but a group of iliri working together can do almost the same thing.  When your medics only need to touch bare skin and are on the front line right beside you?  That's a lot less casualties, and they're such a small part of what the iliri can do for you."

"Linkers," Zep said, finally speaking up.  "The iliri can think orders to each other across impressive distances.  Finders can feel where anything is, such as enemy forces or a coming flank.  Readers?  I'm sure you've heard about Sal's interrogation of the Emperor's son.  All she had to do was ask a question while a reader was touching him.  As soon as he thought the answer, she knew.  Those are the most common, but stop for a second and think about how this could change your strategy."

Albin was shaking his head.  "Give them the ability to plan revolts in their head, and then train them how to kill us?  Are you insane?"

"Are you?" Sal shot back.  "These men are already dying for you.  They already have the abilities.  When was the last iliri revolt that you can think of?  Mine?  The one that's here to protect your country from Terric?  Because it's been over a hundred and fifty years since any other has happened!"

Laibek lifted his hand, halting Albin's response.  "Why?"

"Because we want to belong.  We want to be citizens – the free kind.  When I was a slave, I intentionally got conscripted so I could fight for change.  When I was a soldier, I worked so hard to become the best I could be, thinking that if I could only prove to you that we aren't monsters, then you'd stop hating us."

"But you defected, Kaisae," Laibek countered.  "You went rogue."

"Because no matter how hard I tried, humans just kept beating us down and I had the chance.  This chance.  I'm the only iliri to ever sit at a table as an equal with the Conglomerate's Military Command."  She lifted a brow.  "I'd say my plan's been working.  Not my fault it took such drastic measures to get you to listen."

With a chuckle, he dipped his head in acknowledgment.  "Good point."

"But that," Sal said, meaning the changes to iliri units, "can only do so much when your country is unconsciously promoting dissent in the ranks.  You've spent decades telling humans that they're better than us, and it's finally starting to bite you back.  You have extremists in this base, Generals.  They hate iliri so much that they're willing to go against orders.  They think that selling your scrubbers to the enemy is the answer, never stopping to wonder if those scrubbers will be tortured for information on troop movement.  Never thinking that some human Private's casual chit-chat could give away enough for a Terran officer to intercept your supply caravans.  Sirs, Terric isn't simply out-scouting you.  They're playing on your own weaknesses: your hate for each other."

Laibek gestured over his shoulder for his aide to get him more paper.  "How can you be sure of that?"

"Because I'm not the only reader in this base."  Sal lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers.  "Skin to skin is all it takes, and those with the ability get snippets of thoughts.  When iliri start to go missing, their friends tend to worry, and there's a lot of us in this base."

"Approximately fourteen thousand just in Fort Landing," Ran said, letting that drop into the room.  "On average, that's well over a thousand iliri readers.  And since none of you mentioned the call to have their skills identified, I think Sal's inadvertently proved another point."

"What call?" Usur asked.

This time, Ran answered.  "Chalked swirls written on lamp posts or walls.  The same symbol dragged out on almost every crossroad of this base last night.  She let me know the plan before they started.  It told the iliri to report.  She did it right out in the open, and no humans have mentioned it yet because they didn't even notice."

"Which," Zep said, "is what my brothers are doing right now.  Every Black Blade not here and all of our grauori not currently tending the wounded are at Shadow Team's practice field going through iliri crossbreds to help them become the weapon you need most.  They're hoping to teach others how to do the same thing after we're gone."

"I'm giving you a present, Generals," Sal told them.  "But what are you doing to protect it?"

Kaysir chuckled softly.  "The same thing you are, Kaisae.  We've known about the anti-iliri movement long before you got here."

"And?" she pressed.

Laibek slid a paper across the table toward her.  "That is the list of soldiers working to infiltrate the extremist movement.  We've covered most ranks and social classes with that group.  Most don't know about the others, but all of them are working to find who is inciting it.  In cases of planned aggression, they let us know, and we've canceled training, moved units, and anything else we need to in order to protect all of our soldiers, Kaisae."

"Even if it means losses in productivity," Albin grumbled.

"Enough!" Laibek snapped at him.  "Not everything is about numbers, Sando.  I know you aren't trying to be rude, but your orders are to work with the Kaisae.  Give it a try, huh?"

"Sorry," Albin muttered, actually sounding chastised.

"Sal," Laibek tried again, "we're close.  We've got someone in their inner circle now.  We know there have been dealings with a Terran buyer of iliri trophies.  The only reason we haven't stopped it is because we want to catch the bastard.  Both of them.  Our traitor and the Terran with big enough balls to stick his nose in Fort Landing."

"How close?" she asked, smelling something from one of the men at the side.

"Close enough that we could have the leader's name by this time tomorrow."

Zep looked in the direction of the smell.  It was coming from the general area where the aides were standing.  Breathe again, baby?

So she did.  Anger, but whoever is pissed is trying hard not to let it take over.

Think maybe we have a scrubber lover over there?

Sal spared a glance at her mate.  Possibly?  Or maybe just someone who doesn't like knowing there are traitors in the CFC.  See if someone can look into it for us?

Will do.

While she had that exchange with Zep, Laibek was filling her in on what they knew about the extremist group.  Mostly, that the only thing they had in common was their hate of iliri and iliri crossbreds.  Not all were pure human.  Some were even pale skinned, but it seemed the extremists had already figured out that color was less important than the number of sharp teeth.  Usur mentioned that he was in the process of checking the members of the 68th Infantry against those known to frequent the meetings.

"And when you figure out who is leading this mess?" Sal asked.  "Will I be informed?  Or are you going to keep it as secret as you did your hunt for them?"

"It's not your business, Kaisae," Laibek reminded her.

"The efficacy of your military is my business right now.  If you don't think this has an effect on that, then we have bigger problems."

Finally, Kaysir spoke up.  "And when you know who it is, will you remove the problem for us like you did with the 68th?"

Sal paused.  She knew the right answer was to say she'd let them handle it, but it wasn't the truth.  "General Kaysir," she said instead, "if this extremist group tries to hurt my family, then I can't be held responsible.  You see, that is my weakness.  It's the one thing strong enough to break my control, and all I can promise is that I really do take care of my own."

Chapter 40

AFTER THAT, there wasn't much left to talk about.  Everyone was tired.  The third time a lull took over, Albin declared the meeting complete.  The others readily agreed.  Not much had been solved, but every day they moved one more step in the right direction.  It was both the beauty and the bane of bureaucracy.

Most of the Generals hurried out of the room, their aides following like well-trained hounds.  Laibek, however, took a little extra care stacking his precious papers back together.  When Zep reached for her chair, Sal let him play the gentleman but wouldn't let him dawdle.  Lacing her fingers with his, she tugged him toward the door.  All she wanted was to get back home and relax.  This day had already been much too long.

"Sal?" Laibek asked when she passed.

The sigh that came out made it clear she didn't really want to stop.  "Yes, General?"

"Elcin," he corrected.  "I wasn't laughing at you earlier.  I want to make sure you know that."

"Ok?"  She looked at him, confused.  "Then what was the joke I missed?"

He tucked the papers into a leather satchel.  "You've been pushing us to change our tactics for days, but when you incapacitated the 68th Infantry, you forced our hand."

"Huh?"

"Sal, the only way we can replace those men is if we use iliri.  None of our human units are fit and ready to move – not yet – which is why the 68th is still here.  We need to deploy a minimum of eight at a time to prevent Terric from decimating them en route.  I was amused because I thought I'd caught you manipulating us to get your way."

Her mouth dropped open in shock as she finally put the pieces together.  "You're actually planning to move eight iliri units to the front to act as general combat support?"

"I am.  And with your help, I plan to assign human commanders.  Is there anything else I should consider?"

"A linker."  Sal wiped at her face, trying to get her mind back into the game.  "We're identifying skills.  If you make sure each unit has a linker and a human commander, they'll be twice as effective as any human."

"Good."  He smiled at her without any trace of malice.  "And just in case this is some devious plan you've created, I'm going to take a precaution.  As many iliri combat units as we can prepare, we'll send to the south.  I'll have the 43rd Mounted pass along orders that shift the human units to the north, closing our ranks.  If those iliri are really everything you wanted, then they'll have the chance to prove themselves.  If you're wrong, then my soldiers won't be the ones paying for it.  Yours will.  I think it's only fair."

She nodded once.  "I'm willing to take that risk.  Thank you, Elcin."

"Don't."  He paused, exhaling a little too hard.  "This isn't something I want to do.  I've seen the wonders of the Black Blades in combat, but I'm still not convinced that your abilities are due to your species.  Sal, I've gone through the reports on the standard training for the Blades, and these conscripts?  Not even close."

"Half of the training we did when I joined the Blades was a joke."  She tapped her temple.  "The real stuff happened in here.  If you've studied my unit's history, have you ever wondered why some iliri bitch from a requisition desk scored so well on an elite trial?"

"Honestly?  Yes."

"Because they convinced me that I was better as a beast.  We all are.  That's the only secret we have."  She dipped her head to him.  "Have a relaxing evening, General Laibek."

"You too, Kaisae.  Zep, I'm pleased to see you whole."

He chuckled but didn't bother to reply, just turned her to the door.  Starting to think Laibek has potential, he admitted as they made their way outside.

They all do, I think, Sal told him.  Albin's an ass, but I think I finally understand why.  He only cares about the numbers, and we're ruining his efficiency ratings.  Usur and Kaysir?  I can't say they aren't qualified.

No, Zep agreed, but while they're doing this because they have no other choice, I think Laibek's actually starting to think about the benefits.

We can only hope.

Sometime during their meeting, the sun had set.  For the Conglomerate, it was cold.  The night air came with a bite that warned of morning frost, but it wouldn't last past the first rays of dawn.  Sal inhaled, tasting the air, and let her eyes slip closed.  There was no one else around.  Soldiers had hurried to their stations or homes – depending on their schedule – and the base was oddly silent.  In the distance, she could hear the muffled music from the pubs, but it was far away.  For this one moment, she could truly relax.

"Hey," Zep whispered, moving to wrap his arms around her waist.  "I had a rough day, getting gutted and all.  You think that means I can convince you to spoil me a bit?"

She giggled and leaned her head back against him.  "Sure.  Have something in mind?"

"Mhm."  He bent to kiss the top of her head.  "I was wondering if my friend could spend the night."

Sal's feet stuttered, making Zep push into her back.  "What?" she asked, turning to see his face.

He was grinning.  "I made sure our bed was big enough, Sal.  He and Jase were discussing ways to help the conscripts – so he's still there.  I figure if you ask..."

"You don't want some time alone?"

"Tired of being alone.  Tried that; it sucked.  I really kinda prefer this crazy thing we have going on, you know?  Me, my wife, and those other two guys that somehow fit right in.  And Kolt doesn't have half the hang-ups that I did."  Then he moved his mouth beside the thin skin of her ear.  "I like seeing you happy, baby.  The naked, writhing, and clawing at my brother's skin type of happy."

She bit her lip to keep from smiling at that.  "What if he's not –"

"He is," Zep said, cutting her off before she could make a weak excuse.  "He already made it clear that iliri harems aren't a problem for him.  That rush you feel," and he kissed her cheek, "is my human side.  I want you, Sal, and I want you with him as much as with me.  We belong together."

Her eyes dropped to the ground, trying to work through how this would happen.  "So I'm supposed to just... ask?"

Zep pitched his voice to mimic hers.  "Hey, Syrik, why don't you stay here tonight?"  Then he winked and kept going.  "Syrik, there's no reason for you to walk home.  It's cold out.  Syrik?  Come tuck me in for the night, would ya?"  He chuckled.  "Pretty sure any of those would work."

"But that sounds so desperate!"

"No," Zep assured her.  "It sounds like the kind of invitation a man wants.  Baby, in some ways he's even less forward than Jase.  Just ask him?  I mean, unless you're really not interested and this crazy feeling in my chest is your version of repulsion."

Sal grunted and pulled herself away, flashing a smile back to show she wasn't truly offended.  "Completely disgusted.  That's why I jumped on him last night."

"Mhm.  Jase and I were pretty impressed with you for that."  He caught back up and snagged her hand in his.  "We're not trying to push you into this.  Honest.  The only reason I'm even saying anything is because I think you want to be sure this is ok."  He squeezed her fingers lightly.  "It is, Sal.  Jase and I talked about it.  We approve, and I don't know how to make that any more clear than by telling you as many times as you need to hear it."

Nodding, she forced out a breathy laugh.  "Thanks, Zep.  It just feels like you should be offended, I guess.  I dunno, like saying I'm even interested in him is somehow degrading to you."

"Human ideals," he teased.  "Seriously, though, I do know what you mean.  Sometimes, I get, um, like embarrassed?"  He glanced over at her.  "Not about you, but that I'm into this kinky shit, you know?  I keep wondering what everyone else is thinking, and then I realize it doesn't matter.  They can't feel what I do.  Most of them can't even imagine a bond like this, and I have two.  How could I keep my other half at a distance?"

"But Kolt isn't my cessivi," she pointed out.

Zep shrugged.  "You know, back a long, long time ago, Kaisaes used to have their whole pack as their lovers.  Humans thought they were no smarter than dogs so weren't shocked when the female would go from guy to guy.  I can only guess that she didn't bond to her entire pack if people think two cessivi is a big deal, but she still loved them all."

"But, are we smarter now?  Marnia said they did a lot of stuff to make us perfect.  Genetically, I mean.  Could that have been when we were..."  She paused, realizing her own mistake.  "More like grauori."

"Exactly," Zep gloated as they made the last turn to home.  "Humans have convinced all iliri that if you aren't like them, you must be stupid or inferior.  If you started off as grauori, then their argument is invalid.  Pretty sure those mutts are smarter than me."

"So wait."  Sal turned to face him, walking backwards.  "Are you saying that if I wanna go jump on Razor, you'll be ok with that?"

"Sure.  Why?  You think he's hot?  Something you wanna tell me?"

She groaned.  "That's not what I meant.  All iliri are good-looking, you know that."

"Fair enough.  But stay away from Arctic and Ghost, ok?  Pretty sure that would break Shade's heart, and I kinda like the little imp."

"But..."  They were almost to their door, so she paused.  "Zep, how would that even work?  One woman, all those guys?"

"You mean where we'd stick it?  I can think of a few options."  And he grinned deviously.  "I'm kidding, baby.  We have no interest in making you a pin cushion.  You loving your pack doesn't mean you have to screw them all.  If you do?  Well, it doesn't all have to be at the same time.  See, the way I understand it, your instinctual desire for physical closeness means there's no unrealistic boundaries.  We don't try to make hard limits on things that are just too variable, you know?  We don't own you.  You have claimed us.  So, like, if you're in the field alone with Razor and the maast hits?  I'm sure as shit not gonna be pissed if he gets a damned good roll in the dirt with ya.  If you're sad and Shift takes you out?  That's cool, too.  If things get really emotional and he ends up kissing you?  Good for him.  None of that means you love me any less, right?"

"Right."

"So stop worrying about it.  Look, I'm a human and I've got my head wrapped around it.  I'm pretty sure the rest of these guys forget it could even be an issue for ya.  So try thinking about this another way, ok?"

She nodded.  "Ok?"

"If you want humans to stop thinking you're a lesser version of them, you have to stop trying to be one.  Humans are biologically serial monogamists.  Iliri aren't.  Grauori aren't.  Your mind doesn't work that way, and those apes no longer have the right to make you miserable because they didn't tweak all the right genes when they made you."

Sal thought about that for a moment and decided he was right.  She already knew she had different emotional ranges from humans, so why did this feel like such a big deal?  The answer was easy: Zep.  She loved him, he was human, and the last thing she wanted was to ever make him feel bad – but he'd pretty much cleared that up, too.

"Ok," Sal decided, sounding sure of herself this time.  "But you have to promise me one thing?"

"What's that?"

"If you ever, ever, have any issues with something I do –"

"You'll feel it before I can get the words out."  He tapped his chest.  "You just have to start trusting me to know my own fucked-up mind, demon.  Now, c'mon.  It's cold out here!"

He nudged her toward the door of their rooms, but Sal managed to open it before he could do the whole gallant thing again.  As soon as she stepped inside, the warmth of the fire hit her only a second before the smell of water and soap – but Jase was in the kitchen sucking back a coffee and it wasn't coming from him.

Sal looked toward the door that led to their bedchamber just in time to see it open.  What stepped through made her stop in her tracks.  Kolt walked out drying himself.  His hair.  With the only towel he had.  The rest of his body was completely exposed for her to see.  Every last rock-hard muscle of it.

"Baby, you're drooling," Zep teased.

Kolt yanked the towel away from his head and their eyes met.  A sheepish smile began to lift the corner of his mouth as he calmly moved the towel in front of his pelvis.  "I was going to tell Jase the bath was his if he wanted."

"And do na ferget ta fetch yer clothes," Jase said before dropping his empty coffee cup on the counter.  "I gotta get some dirt off."

Kolt didn't move, but neither did Sal.  She was trying to figure out how to ask him to stay when Jase pushed past him, clearly heading for the bath.  At the last moment, his hand snaked out and grabbed the edge of the towel.  One yank pulled it from Kolt's grip, leaving the guy before her in all his glory.  Even worse, the little assassin chuckled as he disappeared into the bathing room.

"So," Zep said, sounding a little smug, "it looks like he's up to the occasion."

At the same time, Sal finally managed to get her words out.  "Stay the night?"

"He can na have the left side of the bed," Jase called from the other room.

Kolt ignored them both and crooked a finger at her, encouraging her to come closer.  "I think we've found something you need practice with, babe.  Come ask me that a little nicer."

Chapter 41

SAL SOMEHOW MANAGED to peel her eyes away from the rows of sculpted abs and lift them back to Kolt's face.  The man was beautiful, like every woman's dream made whole, and he knew it.  It took one very deep breath before she could convince her body that it was ok to move.  He wouldn't vanish.  Lacing her fingers before her, she tried again, hoping this time was a little less awkward.

"Syrik?" Sal asked, struggling to keep her eyes from dropping as she made her way toward him.  He leaned against the door frame, making no move to hide himself, almost daring her.  "Don't tease me," she whispered.

He didn't bother answering.  The moment she was close enough, his palm caught the side of her face.  His mouth followed, crashing into hers with desire.  Kolt kissed her hard, like he could no longer hold back.  She knew Zep could see.  Jase was on the other side of the wall, able to feel her every sensation, but she couldn't stop.  The man before her was completely naked – she could feel his skin slide against her uniform – and he was convincing her not to worry about anything else.

The power of his mouth was distracting, leaving her only vaguely aware that he was turning her and slowly guiding her back.  When she hit the wall, Sal gasped, her eyes flicking open to find his waiting.  Now, it was her turn to take.  She grabbed his mind and wrapped it in hers, feeling her knees almost buckle from the intensity of his need.  It only turned her on more.  His solid muscles, her lean body, his velvet lips, her sharp teeth – she couldn't tell who the desires came from, and she didn't care.  This was ok.  The frenzy of his touch made everything else seem unimportant.

His hands moved to her waist, loosening her pants before tugging at her shirt.  She pawed at his chest, sliding her palms over the flat planes.  The whole time, his mouth teased her.  A kiss, a nip, and the slow drag of those lips across her neck left her mind filled with the scent of a coming storm.  Slowly, he guided the stretchy fabric up her ribs, over her breasts, taking his time about it as he savored every inch of her skin.  When he pulled the shirt over her head, he released her only long enough to get her free.

Before she could complain, he found her mouth again, and his hands made their way back down her bare flesh until her skin shivered in response.  Their tongues clashed.  She moaned in the back of her throat, clutching at the back of his neck to pull him closer.  But he wouldn't let her take control.  Grabbing her arms, he shoved them over her head, pinning her to the wall.

"Stop," he growled.  "Just enjoy this."  Then he kissed her again.

Sal gave in.  With her wrists pressed against the rough wood, Kolt seduced her.  His mouth stayed focused on hers as his free hand caressed her body, sliding over her belly as if she were a treasure.  Slowly he eased her pants down her hips, first one side, and then the other, his fingers playing across the lines of her abdomen.  He was undressing her right there, caressing the hollows of her pelvis, teasing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

"Get out of those," he whispered, stepping away from her.

While she shoved at her boots and stepped free of her pants, Zep quietly locked the door.  She heard it, but her eyes never left Kolt's naked body.  She was panting; he simply watched.  On the other side of her wall, she heard the splash of water, reminding her that Jase was paying attention.  For the first time, they were all together – and a flash of insecurity raced through her.  She had no idea what would happen next.

In the hearth, the fire crackled.  Kolt's body glistened in the dim light coming from both it and the barely burning lanterns.  It turned his smooth skin almost golden, making him look so warm and inviting.  She didn't have the courage to look over at Zep, but his arousal teased her mind.

"You haven't asked me again," he reminded her.

"Stay with me, Syrik?"  Her eyes drifted up to his face.  This was ok.  Zep said it was ok, she reminded herself before adding, "With us?"

He took the last step to her and grabbed her shoulder, turning her to face the wall as his body pressed into her bare back.  One hand caressed the smooth skin inside her hip as he writhed against her.  She could feel his breath, and she wasn't the only one breathing a little too fast.   Then, tenderly, his free hand pushed her long hair away from her shoulder, exposing her neck.

"Is this really what you want?" he whispered in her ear as his fingers closed on the hair at the back of her neck.  "Tell me the truth, babe."

"Yes," Sal breathed.

His other hand moved lower, nearly between her legs.  "Tell me to stop."

"I can't."

"Good," he breathed right before his teeth found the skin of her neck, making Sal gasp.  He bit her again, pulling her hips to his as he marked her.  She could feel his excitement pressing into her, but he paused, his teeth hovering over her shoulder, and she felt his lips lift in a smile before he pulled away.  Using her hair, Kolt tilted her face toward Zep.  Her Dernor was leaning his hip against the sofa, watching them with no remorse.

Kolt made a point of kissing her neck.  "Planning to help?"

"Was debating it," Zep admitted, refusing to look away.  His eyes slid across her bare body, the hunger clear in his gaze, but she could feel him bracing for rejection.  "If you'd prefer to be alone, I can leave."

"No."  Kolt slowly released his hold on her hair.  "Go take off his clothes, babe."

Her eyes immediately went to Kolt's.  The smile that touched his lips was tender, almost at odds with the way he'd taken complete control of this situation.  Then he tilted his head back to Zep, encouraging her to make the decision but proving he didn't mind at all.

That was all she needed.  Sal turned for Zep, and grabbing his hand, she guided him into the bedchamber.  "Now it's your turn to kiss me," she decided.

That was exactly what he needed to hear.  Zep's last inhibitions fled, and he grabbed her face in his hands, crushing her mouth to his.  This wasn't her first time to have two men in her bed, but it had been different with Jase and Zep.  They'd known each other long before they met her.  Their relationship was clear.  Kolt was still an enigma.  And when Jase came out of the bath?  What would happen then?

She unbuttoned Zep's shirt quickly, pulling it down his arms.  The whole time, he kissed her, keeping her lips occupied with gentle, teasing kisses.  The moment she had his chest exposed, her mouth moved to the flat planes of his pecs, feeling her cessivi's emotions layered with Kolt's.  Traces of fear, excitement, and curiosity mingled among the raging passion, making it even more intoxicating.

In a daze, she worked the laces of Zep's pants open, feeling Kolt move behind her.  His mouth traced the line of her spine, following her tattoos ever higher while Zep's hand held her head to his body.  One man before her, one behind her, and she could no longer tell who owned the fingers dancing across her skin.  But the moment she pushed Zep's pants lower, Kolt pulled her hips to him, making it clear what he intended.

Zep tensed.

Without a word, Kolt reached around her to Zep's arms, moving the big guy's hands to the dresser behind him.  It forced her Dernor to lean back, making his pants sag further down his hips.  Trapped between them, she saw Zep look over her shoulder – right at Kolt.

"Lower, Sal," Kolt whispered.  "He's going to keep his hands right where I put them, so you have to get his dick out of his pants if you want to play with it."

"Sal," Zep breathed.

Kolt put his other hand on Zep's chest, reminding him to lean back.  "Trust me, brother.  She won't hurt you.  I want to see her pretty little mouth wrapped around your dark skin."  He pushed Sal still lower.  "Don't forget to link your men together, babe."

Her hand wrapped around Zep's thick shaft and she did, tying their minds into one as her mouth slipped over the swollen head.  Both men sucked in a breath, Zep's released with a groan.

"More," Kolt breathed, kicking her legs further apart.

Her lips slid halfway down, her tongue pressing against the underside while Kolt lazily traced the swirls along her back.  For the first time, she sucked and lapped at her Dernor, intent on his pleasure, almost forgetting she had another partner in the room until she felt his fingers slide across her slick, wet folds.  As she made her way back up Zep's length, Kolt eased himself to her opening, waiting until her mouth reached the tip before plunging into her, pushing her forward, filling her mouth and body simultaneously.

"Fuck," Zep groaned, lifting his hands to the back of her head.  "Oh, that's good."

Kolt tugged at her hips, rocking her body onto him, setting the rhythm for them all.  His fingers dug into her flesh as he pulled her back then forced her forward.  When she found the tempo, he reached one hand around to tease her even higher.  The moment he pressed across her overly sensitive nerves, Zep groaned, feeling it too.  The sound was nearly a growl, and Sal moaned around him to match it.

Over and over, Kolt thrust into her, forcing her mouth onto Zep, their minds intensifying every feeling until they couldn't tell where one ended the other began.  Her hand reached out, clasping Zep's forearm to brace herself, the other moving in time with her mouth.  She felt him swell as pleasure surged through her, driving her higher each time Kolt impaled her on his body.  It didn't take long, the intensity of three bodies and three minds tangled together was too much.

Sal shoved her mouth further down Zep's shaft, focused on swallowing as much of him as she could take when the orgasm hit them all.  Warmth exploded in the back of her throat.  Her body tensed, tilting her hips in an attempt to arch her back.  Kolt thrust deep, grunting as both men clung to her.  Gasping for air, Sal pulled her mouth free and pressed her forehead against Zep's belly.  For a moment, none of them moved, each one trying to catch their breath.

Zep pulled away first, easing his tender flesh from Sal's hand.  Kolt's arm wrapped around her waist to lift her up against his chest.  That was the only thing preventing her knees from buckling as she panted for air.

"Breathe," he whispered, carefully sliding out of her body.  "You still alive, bro?"

Zep chuckled.  "Damn.  I don't fucking know."

Sal giggled at that and pulled away.  Staggering, she aimed for the bed right behind them.  "He hasn't let me do that."

"I figured," Kolt said, stepping back to flop onto the mattress.  "It's only two steps, Zep.  You can make it."

One by one, they collapsed into the bed, Zep finally shrugging off his pants to discard them on the floor.  Three naked bodies without any shame for what they'd shared.  It felt natural, being together like this – not awkward or perverse.  It felt right to be touching.

Almost absentmindedly, Zep's hand trailed up her leg then slowly back down.  Sal felt nothing but raw emotions, from desire to love, drifting across her as she curled against Kolt's chest.  Jase's were there, too, adding a warm contentment that she couldn't begin to describe.  It made her look up in time to see her ahnor walk out of the bathroom with a deep blue towel wrapped around his waist.

"Next time, ya should take advantage of the size of this bed," he told her with a smile.

Kolt groaned.  "Fuck, I got on the wrong side."

"It's fine," Zep assured him.  "Just toss Sal over between you and Jase.  I can take the edge."

Kolt lifted up enough to see Zep over her body.  "You sure you're ok with that?  I'm the odd one out here."

Zep flipped a hand in his direction.  "Too lazy to care, bro.  You can have the edge next time."

"Deal."  And Kolt grabbed Sal's waist, rolling with her against his chest to drop her on his other side.

She giggled, suddenly finding herself face to face with the one man still partially covered.  "Hey," she whispered.

He reached up and pushed her hair away from her face.  "Yer beautiful, kitten, just like this."

"I'm sorry we didn't wait."

Jase smiled at her wistfully.  "Ya did na need ta.  Sal, it is na something ya owe us.  Being with yer men is allowed ta just happen."  He smiled.  "Like t'night."

"But –"

He leaned in and kissed her, halting her words.  When he pulled away, the warmth of his love stayed.  "Now c'mere," he said as he slipped under the covers.  "They already got their attention, so I get ta hold ya while we sleep."

"Yeah?" Zep asked from the other side.  Sal felt the bed bounce as he bumped Kolt closer.  "Well, I get to snuggle with the hottest guy in the elites."

"Shove a blanket between us," Kolt demanded.  "Don't need to get poked in the middle of the night.  I know the problems you humans have with that shit."

"Not human anymore, dumb ass.  Also not my fault that my dick works well."

Sal couldn't take it.  She shoved her head into Jase's chest and laughed.  It didn't slow them down.  Kolt made some comment about having proved his dick worked fine, and Zep said he'd missed it because his eyes were closed.  Somewhere, in the middle of all of that, Sal had stopped listening.  When her breathing slowed, all three men noticed.

"She's out," Kolt whispered.

"Finally," Jase agreed, caressing the line of her face.

"Hey, Jase?" Kolt asked, keeping his voice low.

The little man lifted his eyes but didn't stop his hand.  "Yeh?"

"Thank you.  You're a good ahnor.  Probably the best I've ever seen."

He smiled.  "It's her.  Ya'll see.  She'll make ya a good Taunor."

"Mm."  Kolt snuggled closer, easing his arm around Sal's waist.  "Guess that means I'm welcome back, huh?"

"It does," Jase agreed, "but ya do na always get ta be in charge."

Kolt gently kissed Sal's shoulder.  "Just had to make sure the first impression was a good one."

Chapter 42

IT FELT LIKE ONLY MINUTES LATER when Sal heard the outside door rattle.  She flicked an ear that way, wondering what time it could be.  There was no way she'd slept the whole night through.  Besides, it was probably the wind.  She snuggled closer into Jase's chest.

A second later, a fist pounded against the wood.  Get your asses out of bed!  We're already late.  It was Dom.

Sucking in a breath, she pried opened her eyes.  Clearly, it wasn't as early as she thought.

"I got it," Jase grumbled.

Before he could throw off the covers, Kolt grunted something that sounded like, "On me."

Sal heard the latch click.  It seemed the King did too because he stepped inside.  "Sal, it's almost 0900 hours."  His feet crossed the room and he pushed at the door to the bedchamber.  "We're supposed to make final arrangements with Command this morning."  When he saw the four of them piled into the same bed, he froze.  "Oh!  So who opened the door?"

"That was me," Kolt mumbled into the pillow.  "Go away."

Dom chuckled.  "Can't.  I'm just going to stand here and gloat about this for a moment.  As many times as she's caught me in bed, I have finally gained the upper hand."  Another chuckle proved he was enjoying this.  "Looks like you all had one hell of a night."

"That's every night," Zep mumbled, flipping the blankets back.  "Anyone seen Sal's uniform?"

"Other room," Jase told him.  "Where ya left it."

"I left it," Kolt corrected.

While Zep rolled out of bed, not caring that he was naked, Sal rubbed sleep from her eyes.  "Dom, if you don't want me to bite people, you'd better brew some coffee."

"Like I said, you're already late."  He shifted to lean his shoulder against the door frame.  "Which means you'll have to wait till we get to the War Room.  Up, Sal."

"Ilija would make me coffee."

Dom gestured to his chest.  "Do I look like Ilija?"

"So would Rayna," she insisted.

"And considering they're both on their way to the practice field, I'm all you got.  I want to make sure we have enough supplies for these Conglomerate soldiers so it won't come out of our funds, and we need to verify inns or safe camping areas along our route so we don't accidentally make even more issues."  When her eyes began to slip back closed, he huffed in frustration.  "Sal!  Get the fuck out of that bed!"

"I'm awake," she insisted, sitting up to prove it.  "Where's my clothes?"

Zep was rummaging in the dresser, barely able to get the drawers open due to the size of the bed.  "Where'd you put the new shirts, baby?"

"Bottom drawer."

"Of course you did," he muttered as he bent over.

Dom turned his head so he didn't have to see Zep's bare ass.  "You've got two minutes, Sal, then I'm back in here.  If you tell me where you left your boots, I might even find them."

"Somewhere near my pants," she said, reaching out for the shirt in Zep's hand.

Dom chuckled one more time and turned his back, giving her privacy without admitting it.  He didn't bother to close the door.  Sal didn't really care, but she knew the King wasn't interested in looking, so she forced her body into motion.  Crawling across Kolt's body, she paused long enough to kiss the side of his neck.  By the time she reached the edge of the bed, she had one arm mostly into her shirt.  She was tugging the hem over her hips a moment after her feet hit the floor.

Pants, socks, and a hair tie came next.  Plus, moving made her brain work better.  The fog of exhaustion was slowly fading.  Knowing her boys needed more space than the oversized bed allowed, she headed into the main room to finish.  Dom met her with her boots in his outstretched hand.

"You ready for this?" he asked.

She dropped onto the closest chair.  "Gimme a sec.  I promise none of those Generals are going to complain if I'm late."

"Oh, they'll complain, just not where you can hear it."

"Same thing."  She got the first one on, listening to someone laugh in the bedroom.

Dom heard it too, ducking his head to hide his smile.  "Now that's a sound that's been missing for a while."

"Yeah."  Tamping her heel on the floor to make sure her foot was all the way in, she flashed him an understanding look.  "Thanks for...  I dunno, carrying me?  Picking up my slack?"

He just shook his head.  "You've done the same for me.  Now c'mon, Kaisae."

"Wait!"  Zep hurried out of the bedroom, his shirt still in his hands.  "Sal, the Blades are all working with the conscripts today."  Then he looked at Dom.  "You up to being her guard, or want me to send someone with you?"

The King patted the sword at his hip.  "I think so.  Pretty sure I can at least hold off an attack until you two – three," he corrected, leaning a bit to see into the bedchamber, "get there."

"That'll do."  Then Zep palmed the side of Sal's neck.  "Thanks for spoiling me, demon."  And he kissed her.

The moment he stepped back, Jase pressed her weapons belt into her hands.  "Do na ferget the coffee," he whispered before brushing his lips across hers.

"Sal?" Kolt said from the doorway.

She turned, and he stepped closer, clasping both of her shoulders.  "I had a good time last night."  His voice was low enough to make it personal.

Her gaze fell to the ground, and she smiled.  "Me too.  Coming back tonight?"

"If I'm still welcome."

Her head jiggled in a quick nod.  "Yeah."  Then she looked up to find his eyes.  "Always."

He lifted his hand to trace her cheekbone, smiling tenderly.  "Have a good day, Kaisae."

Unlike the others, he turned away without kissing her, heading for the kitchen.  It seemed her men were already working out their places in this crazy relationship, but it was casual.  There was none of the tension that had come with Blaec, and yet they felt just as strong.  Comfortably so.

"Ok," Sal told the King.  "I'm ready.  Let's do this."

He headed for the door, pulling it open for her to exit first.  Outside, he fell in at her right, his chin held a little higher than normal and his smile a little wider.  For a moment, she thought about ignoring his smugness, then realized that wouldn't make it any better.

"What?" she finally asked.

"I was just telling Rayna what I walked in on."  He grinned.  "She proved that it's possible for a woman to squeal through the link and wants to know something about Kolt's status?"

"Boyfriend," Sal told him.

"Wait, so husband, husband, boyfriend?"

She nodded.  "Basically."

He said nothing for a moment, obviously relaying that.  Finally, he looked back over.  "Just so you know, I'm happy for you."

"Yeah."  She kicked at a loose cobblestone.  "I kinda am too."

"I can tell.  You look better than you have in days."  He paused.  "Sorry, that sounded rude.  I meant that I know these last few weeks have been hard.  If you ever want to talk about it, I'll always make time for you.  You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I do."  She shifted closer and pressed the side of her head against his shoulder.  "Thanks, Dom.  I know I haven't said it enough, but I do mean it."

"I know."  He dropped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed gently.  "Trust me, every time I see these iliri staring at the ground, I'm well aware of what that word means.  I can't even imagine how you survived this place.  Makes some of the things you said to me a lot clearer."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah," he assured her.  "Trust me, even after this war – whether you're with us or not – I'll make sure there's somewhere iliri don't need to hide what they are.  Any of it."

She sighed, reaching up to rub at the back of her neck.  "Yeah.  But first, we have to make it to Terric.  Until we break this empire..."

"Step one, push them north," he quoted, well aware of the plan.

They talked about the strategy the rest of the way.  Dom pointed out that Escea was going to be a problem simply due to the terrain, but Sal wasn't worried.  So long as they could push from the south, this should work.  She just needed the Conglomerate to trust her long enough for her to get across their border.  That they'd reap the benefits of her strategy should be reward enough for their cooperation.

By the time they walked into the War Room, Sal was actually awake.  She still wanted coffee, so headed to the side board while Dom claimed the chair Ilija typically used.  Behind her, the Generals greeted the King a little too warmly, as if trying to make up for their attitude the day before.  Before her, the smell of the brew was strong enough that she decided one cup would be more than enough.  She made her way back to her chair cradling it in her hands.

"Morning, Generals," she said, taking a seat.  "Sorry I'm late.  Dom had to wake me."

"The stress of yesterday, I'm sure," Ran said, flicking his eyes over to meet hers.

"Something like that," she admitted, taking a drink.  "So, how many iliri units are ready to head out?"

That was Laibek's cue to begin rifling through his papers.  "Twenty-two are ready to deploy.  Orders for their new human Specialists are being delivered today, notifying them that their First Officer will be an iliri linker.  If one is not found in the unit, one will be assigned.  They should be mobile in three days, headed to the coastal region.  All finalized units will be assigned the new designation of Conscript."

"So, instead of Archer or Mounted, it will be Conscript?"  Sal nodded, actually impressed because of the latitude that would give them.  "And Supplies?"  She looked to Usur.  "For both them and the units moving with Anglia?"

"We'll send two weeks worth of food and assorted necessities with your entourage.  The conscripts will carry enough for their trip, and a supply line is being decided for their new assignment.  Just need to know the path of attack to finalize it."

Sal turned her attention to Kaysir.  "Any new intel on the extremists?  And do we know if Terric has a pattern to their attacks inside your borders?"

"Skirmishes have been concentrated between Fort Landing and Merriton," he informed her.  "We've had no reports of Terrans farther south than that, but a large number of Escean refugees have been intercepted."  He lifted his eyes and smiled, almost taunting her.  "If your iliri abilities work as well as you say, maybe we can arrange something to verify they aren't Terran spies before granting them entry?"

Sal dipped her head in understanding.  "Make that one of the duties of the conscripts you're putting in the area.  I'm sure there'll be at least one reader among twenty-five units."  She paused for a moment, debating with herself, then added, "You know at least a few are definitely working for Terric, right?"

"We do.  Those we've discovered are being watched, along with a few that seem innocent enough.  When possible, soldiers in the area have orders to release false information.  It's not perfect, but it's been working."

"Good."  Sal finally turned her attention to Albin.  "Any suggestions you'd like to make?"

He thought for a moment.  "To reduce costs, we prefer to use civilian merchants to move our supplies.  Allows more soldiers to be deployed to the front lines, but if Merriton is already questionable..."  He sighed.  "Then you're right.  The additional cost is justified to make sure our soldiers are well supplied."

"Ok," Sal said, glancing over to Dom.  "You had concerns?"

"Map?" he asked.

Two of the three aides moved to get it, and Sal's head tilted.  Yesterday, there had been four.  Ran was the only General in the room who didn't have a well-trained lap-dog to handle his bidding.  Turning in her chair, she double checked that the other one wasn't behind her.

"Problem?" Kaysir asked.

"Where's the other aide?"

Albin's grunt proved he wasn't pleased.  "Jeric sent a notice that he wasn't feeling well today."

"He seemed fine last night," she pointed out.

Albin shrugged.  "Probably a hangover.  Said he had to meet friends when we finished here last night."

Sal nodded, accepting that, but it didn't sit well.  She was pretty sure that man had been the one who smelled wrong – but it was hard to be sure.  They'd been standing too close together, and she'd been on the far side of the room.

Dom cleared his throat, aware that she'd lost focus.  "So, I'll need a list of appropriate places to stop on our way to Merriton.  I have a feeling that civilians won't care much about our orders or alliances, and my first priority is to keep my men safe."

"I'll get you those," Albin agreed blandly.

The King had a few other concerns to work out.  Not a single one was related to the strategy.  Eventually, Kaysir pointed this out.  Dom chuckled and repeated what these men had been told so many times before: he had no head for planning wars.  That was Sal's job.  Then he began talking about the terrain around the coast and what they should expect for seasonal weather.  Sal did her best to focus on her coffee, feeling like she was missing something important.

Eventually, Dom was satisfied with what he heard.  Leaning back in his chair, he turned the meeting back over to Sal.  The map still laid spread before them on the table.  Lines indicated current troop movements, Terran attacks were marked, and the front line of the battle was shown a few kilometers inside the Conglomerate's eastern border.

"So," she said, standing to reach the map.  "I have the 112th here."  Her finger stabbed halfway down the mountain ridge.  "Azure is ready here."  And just south of that.  "My plan is to re-secure Merriton –"

"But won't that tip off the Terrans?" Albin asked.  "If it's compromised like you say."

"I'm counting on it," She assured him, then continued.  "We'll use the Conglomerate forces to secure the boundaries of the city.  Most likely, that will trap a few inside.  Once we identify the Terran informants, we'll do a little interrogation to get updated on their current strategy.  That," she told them, "will be when all hell breaks loose.  Terric will hear of our arrival within hours.  Decisions will have to be made locally.  I'm expecting them to send whatever troops they have in the area to try and dispose of me."

"A logical assumption," Albin grumbled.

Sal smiled, pleased that she was starting to figure this guy out.  "Which is when the timing becomes important.  I need fast movers so we can meet them outside of town.  The last thing any of us wants are civilian casualties.  The plan is to harry them until we have the advantage.  Someone will make a break for it – and we let them.  This will begin the Terran mobilization along the border, while we..."  Her finger stabbed at the spot where the ocean met the mountains.  "Get our asses behind their line.  Devil Dogs' bravo team will lag behind, making sure the Terrans know we've given them the slip.  That should re-route the line of attack and instill enough confusion for your border units to begin pushing."

"And fold the enemy upon themselves," Ran murmured, sounding impressed.  "And if it fails?"

Sal looked over at him.  "I have enough toys in my army now that we'll make sure they know exactly where we are."

"How?" Laibek asked.

But all Sal could hear was insanity breaking out in her mind.  Fire on the north side of the base! Zep sent, hitting everyone he could.

That's the iliri barracks, Kolt added.

From Dom, All Anglians are at the disposal of the Blades.

Grauori, go, Jase ordered.

Arctic's voice came next.  Send your trainees to assist with putting that out.

A split second later, Pig's voice broke in.  I've got iliri trapped in their quarters.  Tar burning on the doors.  This was set!

Sal spun, looking in the direction she knew her men were heading as Dom shoved to his feet.  "Fire!" she told them, knowing exactly how bad that was in a base made up almost entirely of wood.

"What?" Albin asked, having missed the entire mental conversation.  "You're going to use fire to tell the enemy where you are?"

"No," she snarled at him.  "There's a fire in Fort Landing.  Iliri barracks.  It's arson."

Usur shook his head, trying to jiggle that into place.  "How could you even know that?  There are no windows in this room."

"Because," Dom shot back, "we have three units currently responding."

That's when Sal realized what she'd done wrong.  Once again, she'd assumed the best of people because they were all supposed to be on the same side.  This could be nothing more than a coincidence, or…

"Laibek?" she asked, turning back to the table.  "Is Albin's aide on any of those lists of people who attended the extremist groups?"

He shoved at his papers, claiming one in the middle.  Quickly, his eyes scanned down the page.  Finding nothing there, he moved on to the next.  "Yes.  Along with about a hundred and fifty other people.  Why?  Probably half of these names were there to speak against them.  He's not marked as a person of interest."

She turned her attention to the one man who had done nothing but thwart her at every turn – General Albin.  "Because last night, we talked about hopefully having the leader's name by today.  He's not here.  Someone set fire to your conscripts' homes.  What the fuck is going on in this base?"

Chapter 43

PIG RUSHED TOWARD the column of smoke rising above the roof lines.  Keeya kept pace.  So much for his cheap excuse to spend time alone with her.  While everyone else focused on helping the iliri identify their abilities, he'd decided to show her how to look at the situation around her like an elite.  It was lame and he knew it, but it gave him a reason to actually get to know her outside of practice.

And now this.  Then again, she'd noticed the smell of smoke before he had.

"This whole town is wood," Keeya shouted as she angled her body to slip through a cluster of onlookers.

Pig knew.  He knew very well.  The last time a fire had broken out, dozens of people had died before they'd been able to get it under control.  "The wood is treated to be resistant," he told her, "but it doesn't always help."

"Fire brigades?" she asked.

Damn, that girl was quick.  Her legs were shorter than his, but he was having to work hard to keep up.  "Outside every barracks.  But we're on the wrong side of the base.  Water will have to be manually pumped until they can get horses here."

She paused at a cross street, trying to get her bearings.  "So we focus on getting people out," she decided.

Pig grabbed her arm and pulled her in the right direction.  "This way."

The closer they got, the harder it became to get through.  People were moving away from the flames, forcing the pair to fight the flow of traffic.  Keeya looked back and grabbed his hand, hooking the two of them together as she somehow managed to hit each gap.  At that moment, Pig knew that Blaec had been right.  This shy and quiet girl had her own set of skills that showed up at the strangest of times.

"I'm following you," he yelled over the crowd.

She nodded and, if anything, stepped up the pace.  Between the bodies, he could see the first building.  The door had been broken from the inside, but flames had already taken over.  Pig couldn't see anyone on the upper floors, but one thing stood out.  Flames burned in swaths across the entrance, thick, like there was pitch fueling it.  He pushed past someone else and looked again, positive this time.

"Someone set the door on fire," he told Keeya.

That's when they broke through the line.  Heat from the flames made his face burn, but there wasn't room to step back.  Beside him, Keeya was breathing hard, one hand held before her face like a shield.  He watched her eyes slowly move higher, jumping from window to window.  Then she looked to the next building.

"Oh fuck."

Hearing that come from the mouth of a girl who never cursed made his blood run cold.  Stepping around her, he followed her eyes to see dozens of pale soldiers on the roof, unable to escape any other way.

I've got iliri trapped in their quarters, he thought, hoping someone was listening amidst the chaos yammering in the back of his mind.  Tar burning on the doors.  This was set!

"We have to get them out," Keeya said.

"Yeah."  Grabbing her wrist, he hauled her even closer.  "Gimme your sword?"

She didn't hesitate, just pulled the short sword he'd been making her use and passed it over.  The weapon wasn't great, which was exactly why he wanted it.  After this, it'd be totally worthless.

"Get water.  I'm going to get that door open."

"No."  She tapped his arm and pointed.  "Second floor is better.  It's a short enough jump down."

"But we need to get up."

She spun on him, pure determination in her eyes.  "Then lift me up, Colonel."

He knew better than to try to talk her out of it.  That, and he was damned proud of her right now.  "Yes, sir."

Together, they aimed for the farthest – and coolest – corner of the building.  Pig gave her sword back.  She tied her hair into a knot at the base of her neck.  It only took a few seconds to get ready, then he cupped his hands and waited for her foot.  The moment she put her weight in his control, Pig lifted, wishing he was a little taller, but somehow Keeya made this easy.

Her fingers barely reached the ledge of the balcony roof, and she pulled.  It wasn't elegant, but using nothing more than her will, the girl managed to haul her body onto the narrow ridge of the roof, then over to the balcony railing.  From there, she ran to the door.

It didn't open.

Use the sword, Pig told her.  Between the frame and the door, thrust up.  You'll have to hack at the latch, but the resin should cut through.

Got it.

And she did.  It took three times before she sheathed the weapon.  Then, using her shoulder, she forced the wood to give in.  The moment she was gone from sight, Pig finally began to worry.  This girl wasn't truly a trained elite.  She was barely a trained soldier!

It felt like an eternity that he stood there, doing nothing more useful than staring at the burning line of barracks, waiting for his newest soldier to return.  Right as he was starting to panic, she finally sent him an update.

Pig, we have a problem.

What kind of problem?

Um.  He could almost feel her thinking hard.  The doors to the stairs are barred.  Another pause, and he was pretty sure she was coughing.  It was nailed on.

Keeya –

Don't you dare tell me to stop, she thought as he was about to do exactly that.  My parents died in a fire.  I listened to them scream, and I am not going to – another pause – let it happen to anyone else.

Which meant it was time to change tactics.  "Hey," he yelled at one of the people milling behind him.  "Give me a leg up?"

"In there?"

"Yes, in there.  There's people trapped, you fool!"

The man shook his head, but others heard.  Soot stained soldiers moved closer.  Some were human, some weren't, but they all looked interested.

"What are you doing?" a big heavy armsman asked.

Pig pointed to the balcony.  "Got an elite on the second floor.  She said the stairs are nailed shut.  I need to get up there to help her."

"K."  The man moved into place preparing to lift him up, just like Pig had done with Keeya.  More people were starting to gather, wondering what they were doing.

"Me too," a soldier said behind him.

"I'm small enough," another offered.  A glance showed his skin to be nearly as dark as Zep's.

Pig pointed at three of them.  "You come with me.  The rest of you stay here.  There's a lot of smoke up there, and we'll need some help getting people back down."

One of the more human looking soldiers turned and started giving orders.  "You, go find water.  And you, I have a feeling we'll need medics."

"We have one," a pale woman said, pushing her way to the front.  "I'll heal them."

Pig nodded.  "Which puts you in charge.  You're the acting kaisae.  I've got my people coming."  He tapped his head.  "A whole lot of them."  Then he gestured for the large man to help him save his girl.

The man lifted.  Pig's hands found the same lip Keeya had used, but he almost jerked back in shock.  She hadn't mentioned that it was hot!  The ceramic tiles radiated the heat, making it almost too warm to hold.  It also encouraged him to climb a little faster.  As soon as he had his body on the roof, he reached for the balcony, never slowing until he was inside.  Behind him, the sound of scrambling proved the others were coming.

Smoke rolled through the open door, blinding near the ceiling but clear if he crouched a bit.  Having grown up in a place like this, he knew the fast way to the stairs.  That's probably why he found the one thing Keeya had missed.  There, sticking out from behind a bed, he saw a pair of feet.  For a split second, he thought about leaving the iliri soldier to help Keeya, but the person was clearly unconscious.

How's the door? he asked, moving to check the iliri's pulse.

Not good.  I've only got the bar loose enough to wiggle.

Then come here.  He sent his location.  I have a downed soldier.  You need to get her out.  I'll get the door open.

You...  She paused.  On my way.

Through the haze, he saw a shadow moving closer.  "Keeya!" he yelled.

She was bent at the waist, using her shirt to cover her mouth.  "It's worse at the stairs."

"Yeah."  He picked the unconscious woman up.  "Over your shoulder.  Get her to the balcony at least."

"How do I get her down?" she asked, bracing as he flopped the limp body across her shoulder.

"I'm sure you'll come up with something good.  There's others working their way up to help.  Now, where's that sword?"

She turned, made awkward by the weight.  "Sheath."

"That's my girl.  Now go.  Tell me if you need help."

Keeya nodded.  "I'll manage.  Just save them?"

"That's my job."

***

Updates were flooding Sal's mind, coming as fast as the Anglians could think them.  Units were struggling to stay together.  Grauori were moving to help, being able to both climb and heal.  Pig was organizing extraction for soldiers, and it sounded like they'd been locked in.

"I need someone to find that man," she ordered the Generals in the room.  "Albin's aide.  Whatever his name is."

"Jeric," Albin supplied.  "Lance Corporal Jeric Attah."

Laibek turned to his own aide.  "You know where he lives?"

The man nodded.  "Yes, sir."

"Go there.  Take what's-his-name with you."  He gestured at the man beside him.  "If you find him, take him to my office.  If not, I want a base-wide search for that man."

The two aides saluted quickly and darted out, hitting the door at a run.

"Sal?" Ran asked, moving to her side.  "What's going on, kid?"

"Conscript Housing, Barracks 2 had the stair doors nailed shut."  She blinked her eyes back into focus.  "It's chaos out there, Ran.  There's enough people trying to get away from the flames that the soldiers assigned to fire brigades are having trouble getting in.  Pig has someone in the area trying to get it going, but they're not trained."

"Is it spreading?" he whispered.

"Not yet," Sal assured him.  "Tar was used – across the doors.  Conglomerate soldiers are working together, but..."  She paused, again dropping her eyes to the floor.  "No one knows who's in charge.  Something's going to interfere with the assistance.  We have to stop this.  Now."

"Why?" Usur asked, keeping his voice calm.

"I don't know!" she snapped, looking to Dom for confirmation.  "What's happening?"

Before she could even reply, Arctic's voice cut through.  Sal...  I'm going to need some help down here with a little authority.

"The Blades need help," she said, turning for the door.

Ran grabbed her arm.  "That's our job, Kaisae," he said, gesturing for the others to get moving.  Surprisingly, they did.

The Generals who made up Military Command might come across as bureaucrats, but they were soldiers deep down.  Knowing they were needed was all it took.  This time, not a one of them questioned how she could be sure, they just jumped into action.

"I'll open up the storage bunker," Usur said.  "We're going to need axes and shovels."

Kaysir pushed his chair back.  "Hoses, too.  In case there are any issues.  I'll get trainees to start moving those across the base.  We'll meet you at Requisition 17."

"I'll handle evacuations," Laibek said.  "Where's the closest group of soldiers at this time of day?"

Albin knew without even looking.  "Infantry scheduled for night shift are housed on the west side of the base.  You'll go right past them on your way."

"I'm with Anglia," Ran said as the others began to move from the room.

Dom let out a stunned chuckle.  "That was efficient," he admitted.

"That's the CFC," Sal told him.  "C'mon.  We have iliri down there, and from what I've seen, they're going to be a little nervous about trusting their fellow soldiers."

"With good reason, it sounds like," Ran agreed, checking his sword.  "Kaisae, I've got your left.

Chapter 44

A HALF HOUR EARLIER...

Kolt paused to stretch his back.  He couldn't remember which number this unit of archers had been assigned but, like all the rest, they were making him want to pull out his hair.  Each and every one was meek and mild.  He couldn't count the number of times they'd managed to slip in an extra 'sir' when addressing him.  And when he actually tried to push them a little?  Not a single one had even lifted his lip or growled back.

That morning, the grauori had identified their skills and now, he was supposed to make sure they had an idea of how to use them together.  He'd tried.  He was pretty sure he'd also failed.  The big problem?  There wasn't a woman in the bunch.  No one for them to look to for leadership, and these weren't the kind of guys to take control on their own.  The best he could do was give them some practice problems that would require more than one skill to figure out – and then get far enough away that he didn't roll any of them.

"Zep?" he yelled, calling his brother over.  "You know if any of those officers who applied are women?"

His eyes narrowed in confusion, but Zep nodded.  "Yeah, a handful of 'em.  Why?"

Kolt flicked a finger at the conscripts struggling to feel each other in their new link.  "Because I think they're all submissives."

The big guy smiled.  "Hang on."  He looked over to Arctic, paused, then grinned.  "Ilija's being sent to find them one.  Now stop worrying.  They're already better off than they were."

"I know," Kolt grumbled, "but Sal really wants this to work."

Zep slapped his back before turning Kolt toward the edge of the practice field.  "Sometimes, bro, you turn into a real bitch when it comes to the ladies."

"Only one lady," Kolt admitted.  "And there's nothing wrong with wanting to impress her."

"She's impressed.  Trust me, man.  She's fuckin' impressed as shit with you."

"Doesn't mean I should slack off."  Kolt tried to stop it, but a smile was starting to show.  Even worse, Zep noticed, and it was making the Dernor grin like an idiot.  "Quit," he hissed.

Zep didn't.  Instead, he laughed – rather loudly.  "You are such a goner," he teased.

"Oh yeah," Kolt admitted.  "Don't tell me you were any better."

"Nope.  Still completely stupid over her."  Zep sighed and dropped his rump onto the ground, gesturing for Kolt to do the same.  "But don't try that whole 'I'm in charge' shit with Jase.  He can get touchy about that sort of thing."

Kolt pushed out a playful groan as he tilted his head back against the railing.  "Man, I barely got my dick working again.  Kinda like to keep it attached.  I'm not that dumb."

"Na how dumb?" Jase asked, leaning over the rail as if he'd appeared by magic.

Kolt punched Zep's shoulder, making sure it was hard enough to sting.  "Asshole.  Why didn't you tell me he was there?"

"He wasn't," Zep told him.  "He just decided to show up.  Not my fault you can't hear him coming."

"Or feel it!" Kolt pointed out.  "And not dumb enough to boss you around, Jase."

"Mm."  The little man hopped over the rail and sat on Zep's other side.  "Do na be so sure.  She likes it."

Both Zep and Kolt turned to look, their mouths hanging open in identical shock.  "What?" Kolt managed to get out.

"Sal," Jase said as if they didn't already know that.  "It turns her on when ya take charge like that, and I have submitted many times when I did na have ta.  Fer her, I can play like that.  She likes ya ta be a little human.  She likes me ta be na at all human.  Him?"  He jerked his head to Zep.  "She just likes him."

"Hell yeah she does," Zep agreed.  "But guys, she's kinda nervous about, um, all of us."

"Really?"  Kolt asked.

Jase nodded.  "She is na sure she can give each of us attention.  She's worried someone will feel left out."

"Ok."  Kolt leaned around Zep.  "I'm gonna assume that you two have, you know, played together.  Right?"

"Yeah," Zep assured him.  "We've shared her."

"So, two at a time is ok?  Maybe next we should keep it to Jase and I?  Prove to her that we're ok with this?"

"Keep it tame," Zep suggested.  "If anything, I think she's more scared of doing something Jase won't like than upsetting either of us.  Probably because the little shit doesn't do so good with telling her like it is."

"She can feel it," Jase countered.

"And you still suck at putting your feelings into words, bro.  Look, if Kolt and I are gonna bend over backward to make this relationship work out, then you can at least try sweet-talking her."

"Yeh," Jase admitted.  "But I am na good at it."

"Don't think any of us are," Kolt assured him.  "Look, I could be out of line, but I'm thinking if you get things started and I kinda join in afterwards, maybe she'll be too distracted to worry?  And if the two of us don't have any problems, maybe she'll relax a little more about the three of us together with her?"

"Prolly," Jase admitted.

Zep was nodding.  "So I get to take a super long bath this time?"

Jase sent him a devious look.  "Ya have any idea how hard it was ta get m'self off in there without splashing?  She can hear that shit."

"No," Kolt groaned, turning away in feigned disgust.  "I didn't need to know that!"

Jase pointed to Zep.  "He already did."

"Cessivi," Zep grumbled, trying to make it sound like a burden.  "Seriously, though.  If Kolt and I get home just a bit after you and Sal," he told Jase, "he can join in, and I can play the voyeur.  Prove to her that we're fine with taking turns and that she doesn't need to worry about us getting too excited or something."

"And the next time, I'll be the odd one out," Kolt told them.  "Get her used to the idea that we're all in this together.  Think it'll work?"

"It'll work," Jase assured them both.  "She is only worried about letting us down.  That she will na be enough ta satisfy all of us."

Kolt reached up to rub at his face.  "I'm sure.  A couple of decades of training fried it into her mind that it's her job to do the pleasing.  It's what they do to entertainment girls down south.  They get it right, or they get beat."

"Starved," Jase told him.  "Beatings did na bother her.  Weeks without meat were the hard part."

"Yeah, Zep told me."  Kolt shifted so he could see them both easier.  "Guys, I do have one question, and I might be completely overstepping myself."

Zep didn't wait for him to ask.  "You can move in, man.  It's cool."

"Really?"  Kolt looked to Jase.

The little man nodded.  "We make her feel comf'terble.  It makes her smile.  Na like ya'll be using yer rooms otherwise."

"Cool.  So what's the deal with the left side of the bed?"

"He's left handed," Zep said.  "I'm a righty.  Makes it easier to get weapons if anyone breaks in.  She doesn't need a blade, so it works out."

"She is a weapon," Jase corrected.  "Just needs ta touch skin and the more of hers showing, the easier it is ta get a touch."

"And I can extend her reach," Kolt reminded them.  "But I can't fight when I do it.  Shit still hits me hard, like she's pulling apart my mind."

Jase nodded.  "Is because she's so strong.  Her version of a gentle tug would break most crossbreds.  That ya can bear it says a lot."  He smiled.  "She's read through me, and I thought she was gonna take my skin off with her."

"She realize she's doing it?"

"Na, and do na tell her.  She needs ta be stronger, na more gentle.  We can take it."

Kolt nodded, but before he could assure the Ahnor he agreed, one of his trainees called out, pointing to the north.  Kolt turned, expecting to see some minor nuisance like a group of humans teasing them.  Instead, the column of dark smoke made him jump to his feet.

"Oh fuck," he breathed.

Zep turned.  Fire on the north side of the base!

That's the iliri barracks, Kolt clarified, unsure if the Blades would remember the layout after months of being away.

The King's mind broke in.  All Anglians are at the disposal of the Blades.

Jase didn't need to be told twice.  Grauori, go.

Arctic's voice hit next.  Send your trainees to assist with putting that out.

"Archers," Kolt bellowed, running toward the unit he'd been assigned.  "Fire at the barracks.  Stick together.  We need to make sure our people aren't trapped in there.  If they are..."  He tapped his head.  "One of you had better tell me, or I'll gut you myself.  Now go!  Use your best judgment.  If anyone questions you, you're under the Kaisae's orders!"

That last word sent them scrambling.  Even better, they weren't the only unit.  From the far side of the field, one the Devil Dogs had been working with rushed off in the same direction.  Then, as soon as they were released, more and more followed.  Nearly twenty-five units, all under the tutelage of Anglians, were now on their way to make sure Fort Landing didn't burn to the ground.

But that's when Pig's voice gave them the bad news.  I've got iliri trapped in their quarters.  Tar burning on the doors.  This was set!

"Where's Sal?" Kolt asked, grabbing the closest cessivi he could reach.  It was Jase.

"War Room.  Dom and Ran are with her.  She is na in danger."

"Not yet.  But if that fire spreads, this whole base is going to burn – and our people will be low on the list of priorities."

Blades, Jase ordered immediately, we need ta get the iliri out of their barracks b'fore they burn.  I do na care how, but do na be alone.

Zep grabbed Kolt's shoulders, shaking him lightly.  "I haven't been here in over a year.  Help me out, man.  What's the fastest route there without getting caught in the crowds?"

"That way," Kolt said, pointing to the east.  "Follow the wall around, and we'll come at it from the back side."

Arctic! Zep yelled, cutting through the rest of the chaos in their minds.  Get Shade and come with us.

It didn't take long before those two jogged over.  Jase tipped his head to Kolt, putting him in charge.  Kolt sent his pack the path he was hoping would still be open.

"Follow me," he told them before jogging in the opposite direction of all their trainees.

Like elites, they didn't bother with things like gates or easy paths.  Jase had said he wanted the fastest route there, and Kolt knew exactly how to make his way around Fort Landing.  He'd done it a time or two.  Hopping over the rail that separated the practice field from the road on the other side, he aimed for a dark alley.  It was only wide enough for one body.  The five of them raced down it, their feet echoing off the solid wood walls on either side.

If that fire spread beyond the barracks, there would be no way to stop it.  All of this wood would burn.  Nothing would be left to keep the Terrans from storming in and getting to the ship Marnia had been researching – never mind the loss of life.  This was a much bigger threat than all of that.  If Fort Landing burned to the ground, the center of the Conglomerate of Free Citizen's war effort would be gone.  All of the intelligence, all of the unit assignments, and all of the plans.

Even worse, because it started in the iliri barracks, Kolt could only guess that the tension between the species would be irreparable.  Iliri would be slaughtered by the dozens, lynched to make the humans feel like they were doing something to fight back.  He had no idea why they'd started this fire, but whoever was to blame had just given the Terrans the biggest gift they could dream of.

The thought was terrifying enough to make him run a little faster.

Chapter 45

LIKE KOLT, Sal was thinking about the implications of this disaster.  The timing was entirely too coincidental.  Along with the missing aide, she could only assume that the leader of the extremists was willing to sacrifice the iliri to cover his escape.  For him, it would be a win-win situation.  Jeric must have told him Command was close to getting a positive identification.

Locking the War Room behind them, Sal led Ran and Dom in a straight path to the billowing smoke, right across the courtyard that Ran's office overlooked.  They were walking fast, not quite jogging.  On this side of the base, the streets were still pretty calm, which meant that the group of soldiers in green hurrying up the street were rather hard to miss.  Those uniforms weren't in the Anglian style, but the color was the same.

"Dom?" she asked, gesturing toward them.  "Who the hell is that?"

He didn't bother answering, just called out, "Hey!  Where do you think you're going?"

One of the green-clad soldiers looked their way, tapping the man next to him on the arm.  The group of ten stopped, exchanged a few words, then the second man started marching over.  The rest formed up behind him.

"Kaisae," he called out, but the accent was wrong.  It sounded like it was supposed to be from the Conglomerate.

Dom moved to stand before Sal.  "Name and rank," he demanded.

The man didn't slow.  "Lieutenant Trant.  We've been ordered here to assist you."

There were three problems with that.  First, Lieutenant Dalyr Trant was one of the Anglians Sal knew very, very well.  She'd convinced him not to kill himself after a grauori had mauled his face, then made him the first Anglian assigned to the grauori nation.  Second, his name was one of the easiest to find since he'd been cited as an example of cross-species rules so many times.  Third, the only person who would have ordered additional units into Fort Landing was her.  Both she and Dom knew it.

"Hold up," Dom said, pointing to the north.  "We need all available units to assist –"  Before he could finish, the imposters surged forward, drawing their weapons.

"Shit," Sal breathed, linking Dom's mind with hers as she pulled her daggers.

She braced but didn't get the chance to face the attackers.  Ran yanked her behind him, his own sword in hand.  "Watch my back," he ordered as the first man reached them.

Resin clashed.  Dom blocked the first shot and Sal surged around him, hacking at the arm of the attacker.  She felt the skin part, snarling as she prepared for the rush that would come next.  On her other side, Ran cut, cleaving a false-Anglian at the waist.  There were only three of them, fighting against ten men of unknown training.  The odds weren't that bad, she thought.  A little over three to one.  The problem was that these soldiers were a little too good.

Dom took a cut to his forearm.  Sal managed to block the enemy's other weapon, preventing the King from a more serious injury.  Ran noticed and lunged forward.  For the first time in her life, Sal got to see the General in action – and he was vicious.  Wielding his sword with both hands, Ran fought with a precision she could only dream of.  Each thrust was also a block.  Every defense was meant to control the enemy's motion.  And yet, only two soldiers were on the ground.  The rest seemed impervious to their blades.

She was hard pressed to keep up.  Snarling, she quit trying to play it safe and went for the kill.  "Dom, stay back," she ordered.

"Fuck that."  He blocked another shot, this one aimed at her.  "Shut up and kill these men, Sal."

But they were surrounded.  There wasn't a safe side, and she couldn't watch in every direction, not without Ran's help.  She cursed herself for not having linked him before, but it was too late.  She was going to have to do this the old way – on her own.

Spinning to avoid an imposter's sword, she sheathed her left dagger and reached for the man's hand.  The moment her skin touched his, she was in.  Before his heart had the chance to beat again, the fool was dead, but she didn't pause to enjoy it.  Her right arm swung, cutting another across the chest – but her blade skipped, proving those green uniforms covered so much more.

"Resin under the uniforms," she called out.

"Aim for the neck," Ran told her.

"Fuck!" Dom grunted.

Another fell, leaving six still fighting.  Sal reached out again.  This time, the soldier was smart enough to jerk away before she could touch him.  Another went for her arm, giving her the perfect opportunity.  The same moment her eyes hit him, she felt Dom's intention.  Sal feinted.  The King swung.  Blood sprayed, putting another corpse on the ground, but one of the imposters lunged in, thrusting for Dom's side.

Sal grabbed the King and pulled, spinning around to slice the enemy across the face.  Ran noticed, glancing over to confirm her position.  That was the mistake the enemy had been waiting for.  One man stepped forward, almost calmly, and Sal knew what was about to happen.  She saw it from both her eyes and Dom's.

The blade was dark, still almost pristine.  She could see a chip in the ceramic near the tip right before it entered her sadava's waist.  When it emerged from his gut, it was even more obvious, now covered in her father's blood.

"No!" Sal roared.

Ran's knees buckled, but he didn't stop fighting.  Forcing his own body off the blade, he made a back handed slash, putting all of his strength into it, hitting the jugular of the man who'd wounded him.  The scent of human sugar hit the air, nearly overwhelming, and half of it was her dava's.  She had to protect him!

As Sal shoved into the man before her, Dom dropped to the General's side.  "Put pressure on it."

"Help her," Ran gasped.

Dom shook his head.  "Right now, the only thing she needs is for you to put some fucking pressure on that wound."

"You hurt my dava," Sal snarled, each word punctuated with a slash from her steel blades.  "I will not let you have any more.  I'm done losing.  Do you hear me, Ayati?"  Then, in her rage, she switched to Iliran.  "I warned you.  I said if this happens again, you'll lose your precious toy.  Your fight is with me, not the people I love!"

From behind her, someone yelled, "The General!"

Sal couldn't take the chance of looking.  Four men were spread around her, each of them waiting for someone to move.  They had the advantage, and she knew it, but she also had Dom's eyes.  With a thought, the King looked, proving that help was on its way in the form of one single man in blue.  Sal smiled.

The moment the CFC soldier crashed into the man before him, Sal attacked.  Her palm slapped one man's face, her dagger found the neck of another.  Her new ally seemed to have figured out these men were in armor, because he stabbed, hard, forcing his blade to pierce the resin links.  That left the last one for her.

Dropping her blade, she leapt on him.  One hand pushed the sword aside, the other found the imposter's neck.  Together, they crashed into the ground, Sal's mind diving deep into her enemy's.

"Don't touch her," Dom yelled.  "She'll kill you if she isn't linked with you."

"What the fuck is she doing?"  Sal knew that voice, but she didn't have time to place it.

"Interrogating him," Ran panted.

"More like ripping his mind apart," Dom corrected, then he sucked in a breath.  "Sal?"

"I know," she snapped, rifling through the soldier's memories, burning as many as she could into her head.  Then she leaned back.  "I want you to die.  Take your time about it, too."

She didn't squeeze his throat, didn't pierce his body with a blade.  The Kaisae of all Iliri simply leaned back and pushed herself to her feet, but the man was already gasping.  By the time she'd made it two steps, he'd started to flail, his hands scrambling at his neck and mouth, but she ignored it all.

"Dava?" Sal asked, rushing to Ran's side.

He tried to smile.  "I'll live, kid."

"I know."  She dropped to his side, palming his jaw as she pressed her forehead to his.  "I'm so sorry."

"It's – "  He sucked in a breath.

"Close your eyes," Dom told him.  "I've heard she's not a very good healer."

"Sal," Ran gasped.

"It hit something," she breathed.  "I don't know how to fix that.  I think that's your kidney."

"Long way from his heart," Dom told her.  "Stabilize, Sal.  I'll take care of him."

"No."  She pressed her eyes closed, trying harder.

She might not be able to permanently fix him, but she could stop the pain.  She could make him well enough to get inside, to get away from anyone else that could hurt him.  If she just tried a little harder, she could fix this.

"Sal," Ran begged.  "That's enough."

Sucking in a breath, she leaned back.  "You weren't supposed to get hurt!  Everyone around me gets hurt."

The man who'd jumped in to help knelt at her side.  "Kaisae?  I'll take care of him."

She turned, shocked to recognize the face.  "Odi?"  He was the man who'd taunted her during her trials, the one she'd met in Ran's office only a few days before.

He smiled.  "Yes, sir.  I'll take care of him."

"You wanted to sell my kind to Terric.  The last thing I'd do is trust you with my father!"

"Your..."  He looked from Sal to the human laying on the ground.  "Sir?"

"Adopted," Ran grunted, moving to sit up.  "He's ok, Sal."

She growled, turning her eyes to the man who'd done nothing to impress her.  "I'd rather eat him."

"Salryc Luxx," Ran snapped, but it didn't sound as forceful as he wanted.  That, more than anything else, made her pay attention.  "You listen to me when I'm talking to you.  Odi is fine.  I've been working with him since Blaec dismissed him, encouraging him to have better friends and more open-minded habits."

"I will take care of him," Odi assured her.

She shook her head.  "I can't leave the King without a guard."

"Sal," Dom pleaded.  "I can hear them, can't you?  Something's happening."

She bit her lips together and nodded, trying hard not to listen.  She couldn't handle all of this.  Not on her own.  "Terrans," she whispered, referring to the men they'd killed.  "They were Terrans, thinking that no one would stop a group of Anglian soldiers.  They were trying to get to the Star Fall."

"Why?" Ran asked, reaching up to clasp her hand.  "I'm ok, Sal.  I'm not going to leave you."

She turned her eyes to the sky and blinked quickly.  "Their insider said they were blown.  The commander –" She pointed at a body to her left. "- decided that this was their last chance."  Then she paused.  "Dava?  Did you know Jeric?"

Through the contact, she saw the man's face in Ran's mind.  The same one the Terran knew as their insider.  He was the one relaying messages from whoever was in charge of the extremist group.  He was also Albin's aide, and that man was well known to despise iliri.

"Him," she agreed.  "He's the one who was selling our secrets, and now Terric is inside Fort Landing."  She looked at Odi.  "The extremists were supposed to stir up hatred of iliri, and it was working until I showed up.  They wanted you humans to sell us out.  To kill us off.  They hoped that you'd decimate your own army from the inside out – and you almost helped."

"I bitched," Odi told her.  "That's a long way from doing anything about it, and I only said that because you showed up trying to say we weren't good enough."

"Sal," Ran said again, stopping their spat.  "What's the status on the fires?"

She paused, finally listening to the orders being thrown around.  We have wounded! Ilija was saying.

Arctic replied immediately.  Grauori on their way.  Anyone else trapped inside?

Yes, Pig replied.  I've got Conglomerate soldiers assisting, but we have dozens of wounded in barracks 2.

Tyr's voice came next.  We can't tell friendlies from enemies down here.  Everyone's in blue!

"Shit," Sal breathed, pushing to her feet.  "Fort Landing is losing."

Chapter 46

TYR SLIPPED AROUND A GROUP of onlookers, flattening his body to the wall.  Joevar tried to do the same, but the guy was a little too broad.  He was a big guy shoved into an average one's body.  The problem was that there wasn't a soft spot on him.  When Joevar pushed, it forced people to give way before his strength.

"Agility," Tyr teased, "is a trait lost on you, man."

"I let the little shits worry about that."  He grinned.  "My job's to block.  Where are we going?"

"Trying to find the fire brigades.  Should be ten people assigned to each one."

Joevar huffed, sounding annoyed.  "Lemme guess, and none of them even live over here, right?"

"Pretty much," Tyr agreed, although he didn't really know.  It just sounded like the way things worked in this country.

That's when they heard the first scream.  There wasn't anything with it to explain the sound.  No running, crashing, or pointing.  Nope, just the sound of a single shriek, the man's voice high enough to sound almost feminine.  The two Devil Dogs shared a look, knowing this couldn't be good.

"Me first," Joevar demanded.  "Try to keep up."

Then he dove in headlong.  A path began to clear as he either pushed people out of his way or glared hard enough to make them move on their own.  They almost made it to where the scream had originated.  Almost.  Someone decided to try to jack them before they could get there.

A Conglomerate soldier darted in, the white ceramic blade bright enough to be new.  That's why Tyr saw it.  Joevar never would have since the bastard came from the back, but it was ok.  Tyr grabbed the attacker's shoulder and pulled – hard enough to bounce the dumbass's head off the wall beside them.  His fist followed, making sure the guy's eyes rolled up in his head.  As soon as the idiot hit the ground, Joevar used his foot to knock the dagger away from his limp fingers.

"What the fuck?!" Joevar demanded.

"Agility," Tyr taunted.  "Useful when some motherfucker's about to jack you from behind."

"He's Conglomerate, though."

Tyr kicked the unconscious man, making sure it was hard enough to bruise.  "Yeah.  Human."

"So why'd he –"  Another scream cut him off.

They turned to the sound, but someone yelled on their other side.  Then another.  Suddenly, people all around them were fighting, and not all were winning.  The problem was that they all looked alike.  Every last one wore the standard blue uniform of the Conglomerate's military.

Head's up, Tyr thought to the rest of the Dogs.  We can't tell friendlies from enemies down here.  Everyone's in blue!

Same thing over here, Rayna sent.  From what I can tell, they're targeting Anglians and iliri crossbreds.

That's when all the pieces fell together.  Terric, Tyr thought.

Joevar nodded, obviously agreeing.  "Fort Landing's been compromised.  Terric's already inside, or at least their converts!"

"Then let's get them out."  Tyr reached over his shoulder for his sword, pulling it free.  "I want them down but not dead."

"Play time," Joevar chuckled, spotting a man with a blade stalking an iliri hurrying away from the fires.  "This one's for Sal."

Rushing in, he cracked the would-be assassin across the back of the skull with the flat of his blade.  As soon as the guy hit the ground, Tyr kicked him under the chin, making sure it was going to be a long nap.  The iliri who'd been targeted turned in surprise, his eyes going wide at the sight of their weapons.

"Secure him and take him to be detained," Tyr ordered.  "The Kaisae will want to talk to him."

"Yes, sir," the man agreed, gesturing for the guy beside him to help.

The Devil Dogs turned in time to see another conscript trying to fight off a woman.  They didn't need to say a thing.  Together, the pair hurried to help.  Tyr grabbed the girl's hair, jerking her out of reach of the iliri.  Joevar swept her legs out from under her.  She was on the ground before she knew what happened, Tyr dropping onto her chest.

"Who are you working for?" he demanded.

She replied by spitting in his face.

Tyr didn't flinch from the spittle.  "If that's how you like it, baby."  And he cracked her in the temple with the hilt of his sword.  Twice.

"We need a way to detain these fuckers," Joevar grumbled.

The iliri she'd attacked pushed in beside them.  "I have a spare bowstring.  It's not much, but..."

"Tie the bitch tight," Tyr told him.  "No one fucks with our citizens and gets away with it."

The pale man smiled.  "Thank you, sirs."  Then he looked up.  "Hey!  Get some rope."

Someone in the crowd turned, running the other way.  Tyr could only assume that was this guy's friend.  "You got this?"

"Yes, sir.  She's a True Soldier, sir.  We'll make sure she's arrested."

"Fuck."  In other words, these weren't Terrans, they were the extremists.  Guys, we have a problem.  True Soldiers are trying to take advantage of the chaos.

I've put three down, Mia, another Devil Dog replied.  The only way we can identify them is to wait for them to attack.

Then wait for them to attack, Pig ordered.  And get the Conglomerate to start helping.  We can't do this on our own.  There's too much going on for three units to handle.

Sal's voice came next.  I'm headed that way.  Dom's with Ran.  My dava needs a healer.

Who's with ya? Jase demanded.

Sal's answer was filled with her anger.  Ayati.  We just got jumped by ten Terrans in green uniforms headed to the dig site.  Right about now, if anyone looks at me wrong, I'll put them in the ground.

Tyr and Joevar shared a look.  "You get a location from that?" Joevar asked.

Tyr nodded.  "She's coming right up one of the main streets.  Let's go take care of our girl."  Then he looked back to the iliri holding the traitor.  "Anyone who raises a weapon, incapacitate them.  Detain them.  Get everyone else to do the same."

"You're leaving?" the man asked, glancing up the street.

"Our Kaisae needs us," Joevar told him.  "It's time for you to start fighting back."

The iliri lifted his chin a little higher.  "Keep her safe, sirs," he called out as they jogged away.

The men ran, ducking between buildings to avoid overly packed streets when they had to, shoving people aside when that wasn't an option.  The whole time, they headed the same way, hoping they could get there before Sal met the bulk of this crowd, because Pig had been right.  She wouldn't be careful.  Right now, Sal wasn't worried about her own safety.  All she'd heard was that she would die before the war ended.  All she was thinking was that she wanted to take as many people with her as possible – and she was bleeding those thoughts right into his head.

Almost to you, Sal, Tyr sent privately.  Got Joevar with me.

You need to help the iliri, she ordered.

I am, Tyr told her.  In case you missed it, Joevar swore to watch your back.  You asked him real nice and everything, and he's a little touched by that.  Me?  He ducked behind a cart blocking the road.  I'm just some dumb-ass who never learned how to take orders, so shove that martyr shit up yours, Kaisae.

I can't watch out for you.

I never asked you to.  Each time she responded, he was getting a better idea of where she was, so he decided to push a little more.  I mean, I asked for a kiss and you shot me down.  Figured that means if a man wants something bad enough, then he'd better learn to take things into his own hands, right?  Well, keeping you safe is something I want real fuckin' bad.

What came next was the last thing he expected.  She didn't say a word, but his perception of her was no longer vague.  It was like an arrow in his mind was pointing him right toward her.  He shot a grin at Joevar, but his friend shook his head in confusion, proving she'd sent that privately.

"I know where she is," he said, aiming one more street over.

Together, they emerged into the road among another cluster of fighting.  Joevar pushed in, grabbing the person wielding a bloody short sword and manhandled him to the ground.  Tyr waited for the chance to take another dirty kick, but this idiot got it right in the balls.  That stopped him fast enough, and the girl he'd slashed pounced.

"The Kaisae will want to interrogate him," Joevar hissed, but this time it wasn't going to be that easy.

The woman who looked up wasn't a crossbred.  "This asshole went after one of my soldiers," she snapped back.

"Then let him hang so you don't," Joevar told her.  "Detain him for questioning and find the rest lurking in this crowd."

Tyr grabbed Joevar's arm and pulled.  They didn't have time for this.  Sal was close.  He could almost feel her right on top of him.  Where are you, beautiful? he asked.

"There!" Joevar said, pointing through the crowd.  "I see her."

Being shorter had finally given his friend the advantage, but Tyr didn't care.  All he wanted was to get his own eyes on Sal and his sword ready to cover her back.  In his gut, he had a feeling that she was about to stir up a real big mess.  That's what tended to happen when she got pissed like this.  Hopefully, the two of them would be enough.

They pushed to her side, turning to flank her.  Sal had given up her daggers, which let them know the type of havoc that was coming.  In her hands were the swords she'd used to claim her place in Anglia: black in the right hand, white in the left.  As far as Tyr knew, those only came out when she intended to make a very bloody mess.

"Orders, Kaisae?" he asked.

She kept walking.  "I can see them, Tyr.  I know exactly which ones they are, and I will kill every last one of them before I let any more of mine die to the hatred of humans."

"And I got your back," Joevar said softly.

Tyr nodded because he couldn't trust his voice.  Something had happened to her.  Something that had just set her back to the way she'd been after her abduction.  Something that turned those pale eyes of hers to ice.

Please, he whispered into her mind, don't destroy all the good we've done here because you're mad.  Please, Sal.  In the last half hour, I've watched humans jump in to help iliri... He glanced over, knowing his next words would either snap her out of this or make it worse.  Because they didn't know they should hate them.

Sal stopped in her tracks.  On her other side, Joevar looked at her in confusion, but Tyr didn't have time to update him.  He'd seen Sal lose it before, and that was one sight he'd never forget.  He also remembered exactly how Zep had gotten her to start thinking again.  He'd trusted her.

We're supposed to be the heroes, Sal, not the terrors.

They attacked my sadava!

And Ran's enough of a soldier that I bet he took a few with him.  Sal, is he dead?

No, she admitted after a long pause.  But I couldn't fix him.

Then our sisters will.  Your job is to fix this.  C'mon, Sal.  Think, sweetie.  If you kill everyone fighting right now, you're going to take down a huge chunk of good people trying to help their scrubber friends.  He took a deep breath, his eyes locked on the side of her face.  People like me, Sal.

She finally turned, her eyes meeting his.  What am I supposed to do?

I dunno, sweetie, but how about we fuck it up together?

Tucking her offhand blade under her main arm, she reached over and clasped his wrist.  You have my left, my friend.  Then she pulled all of their minds together.

Among the fear, the anger, and even the heartache fueling her, he could feel one more thing simmering in the background.  If he had to name it, he'd call it faith.  She'd just put him on her left because she believed in him.  Tyr squared his shoulders, knowing he was up to it.

The corner of her lip curled in some maniacal blend of a smile and a snarl, and she secured her grip on her swords.  Someone get those fires put out, she ordered.

I'm on it, Shade replied.  But you gotta break this up so I can get closer.

Which was their job.  Tyr raised his sword.  "All right, Kaisae.  Show us the ones we need to detain.  Down but not dead, right?"

"Exactly."  And the twist of her mouth turned into a beautiful smile.  "Lay on."

Chapter 47

"WHOA, WHOA, WHOA," Kolt hissed to the people behind him, skidding to a halt.  Up ahead, the northeastern gate was open, but instead of people using it to get away from the fires, they were streaming in – and wearing the wrong color.  "Terric."

"Where?" Arctic asked, pushing closer to look over his shoulder.

Kolt didn't have to answer.  It was pretty obvious.  A ring of armed men in black and purple surrounded six more carrying barrels, most likely of the tar they'd been using to stoke the fires.  But hadn't someone said it was Conglomerate extremists stirring things up?  How the fuck was Terric involved in this.  And even worse, in the middle of Fort Landing?

"They played the long game," Arctic whispered, pulling Kolt closer to the wall.  "Anyone willing to bet a Terran infiltrator started the extremist movement?  Shade?"

"Yeah?"

Arctic pointed straight ahead.  "Soon as they're far enough from anyone in blue, could you torch those for me, imp?"

She giggled and moved a little closer, but didn't bother to reply.  The concentration on her face said enough.  Kolt gestured for Jase and Zep to move back, then braced for it.  Like always, Shade didn't disappoint.  One single boom shredded all six barrels in unison, sending the liquid inside out to coat those closest.  It was burning.  They were all burning.

"You want me to stop it when they're done cooking?" she asked, looking back at Jase.

He flashed her a smile.  "Na.  Do na like tar with my dinner.  Those can go ta compost."

"K.  What's next?"

The order came from Sal.  Someone get those fires put out.

I'm on it, Shade assured her, glancing up the street.  But you gotta break this up so I can get closer.

"We can get you closer," Zep promised.  "Kolt, break through.  Jase, Arctic, keep Shade against the wall.  Imp?  I want you to fry anyone who takes a poke at us until they're well-done.  Got it?"

"Got it, sir!"

Zep shifted to the back of the line.  "Everyone follow Kolt.  Let's move."

Kolt darted out of the narrow alley, aiming for the wooden wall on the far side.  Arctic was behind him, then Jase, with Zep making up the last of the semi-circle buffering Shade.  And then their minds merged as Arctic prepared them for battle.  The sweetest emotion came with it – Arctic's feelings for Shade – but Kolt had no intention of pointing it out.  It actually felt pretty good that his commanding officer felt comfortable enough that he hadn't bothered to close it off.

That's what made them a pack.  They thought as one, felt as one, yet still had the freedom to be themselves.  It made them the most deadly creatures on the continent, and the Black Blades were the best of the best.  Like a single organism, they wove through the thickening insanity surrounding the cluster of Conscript Housing barracks.  And then the first extremist noticed.

The man yelled, pointing at them with one hand as he drew his sword with the other.  Three of his friends reached for theirs.  All of them rushed forward – but they never made it.  A thrust of Shade's hand sent a localized burst of wind to knock them off their feet.  By the time they hit the ground, their bodies were smoking.

"Keep going," Shade yelled.  "I have to see what's burning, not just the top of it."

Right.  Her talent was line of sight.  From the way Ghost described it, she worked on a molecular level, rattling the material itself until it heated up, and it didn't take her long.  He had no idea she could work the other way, too.  Maybe she couldn't.  Maybe her plan was to burn the barracks fast enough that nothing around them would have time to catch.  It didn't really matter, just so long as they could get this mess under control.

Barracks 2 is clear, Pig updated.  Have CFC units cleaning up number 8.  Keeya and I are doing a sweep through the rest to make sure we don't have anyone left inside.  ETA on the imp?

One block until she has a visual, Kolt told him.  Make it fast, Colonel.

We're running.

"Hey!" someone yelled ahead of them, gesturing to the left.  "We're under attack."

"Handle it," Arctic snapped.  "There's more of you than us, and the base is burning."

The man's mouth dropped open in a shocked O, and he nodded.  "Yes, sir."

His friend pulled, hauling him away, but a few others joined them.  None of them were armed.  Kolt noticed, but he couldn't worry about that right now.  They were soldiers.  This was their home.  It was about time they stopped waiting for someone to fix things for them.

"Up ahead on the left," he told Shade, daring to glance back at her.

The fire sparkled in her mismatched eyes, a delirious smile on her face.  "I can feel it."

"Kolt!" Jase yelled.

In his moment of distraction, he'd missed one little thing.  The soldier in blue leaning against the wall watching the flames?  Yeah, he wasn't moving.  Jase saw the dagger in his hand that appeared as soon as Kolt brought them close enough.  From his brother's eyes, he watched the man spin, slashing wildly.

Ducking back, Kolt got his sword up in the nick of time.  The reverberation through the resin made his teeth rattle, which was saying a lot for a dagger.  But this man was big.  Zep-type big, and there was no way Kolt could out-power him.

He didn't need to.

As Kolt kept his blade engaged, Jase lunged, slipping under both of their weapons.  His right hand shoved the man's head up.  The left found his throat, Jase's pale knife leaving a thin red strip in its wake.  Kolt kicked, sending the corpse back to die out of their way.

"I see it!" Shade yelled.

Pig? Kolt thought.  We're in place.  Where are you?

Gimme a sec.

Don't really have one.

Shade cut in.  I got this.  And then she froze.

Linked with her, Kolt could feel it.  Every fiber of her body was focused on the building.  She could sense the wood, the resin, and even the ceramic tiles.  The cotton in the beds, the wool curtains.  All of it became completely, totally, and perfectly clear in his mind, and it was all shivering.  Kolt could tell, but he had no idea how she knew.

Then it just stopped.

"Next," Shade demanded.

"Fuck me," Zep breathed.  "She made it cold."

"It's what I do.  I need to see the next one, guys."

Arctic laughed once.  "Well, we can do that.  Kolt?"

Fires are going out, he told the rest of the Anglians as he started moving again.  Our secret weapon is in play.  Big time.

Behind him, Shade giggled.

***

On the other side of the barracks, Rayna spun around Ilija's back, kicking at an iliri who only saw his dark skin and big sword.  She didn't want to hurt the girl, but she'd be damned if one of hers took a wound because they were helping.

"Your side," she snapped at the woman.  "Black, white, and grey.  We're on your fucking side!"

"Terric's in black," the woman growled, pushing herself back up.

Rayna paused.  "In the base?"

"Who do you think set the fires, human?"

She slapped Ilija's back, getting his attention.  "I thought it was the True Soldiers."

The bitch smiled.  "Same thing.  Terrans hate us.  Our own side hates us."

"Ours doesn't," Ilija told her.  "And I'm pretty sure you're wrong about at least half the humans around here."  He pointed.

Behind her, a dark-skinned man was carrying a pale one out of the crush.  A dozen more were covered in ash, proving they'd been inside the buildings.  He pointed to the side, right at a group made of both species working to hook hoses up to the pumps.

"Most of my kind are helping yours.  Most of us.  Don't start hating us because of a few idiots.  Besides, we can't find them without your senses.  We can't smell them, read them, or do anything but wait for someone to attack.  So stop fighting us and start helping."

The woman snarled.  "I have better things to do.  Go be a hero up north."

Rayna grabbed Ilija's arm, tugging him away before he could try and follow.  "They're not all good just because Sal is," she reminded him.  "Come on.  Let's see if we can find those Terrans."

She had a pretty good idea of where to look.  In the scuffles earlier, she'd noticed black mingled among the blue.  Out of habit, she'd assumed it was the Blades.  It was hard to see through so many people, and she was pretty used to having them around, but that girl's words changed everything.  If Terric was in the base, how easy would it be for everyone to assume they were simply another group of Anglians in their predominantly black uniforms?

But if she were in charge, she knew exactly where she'd go.  Sal said they wanted the iliri.  Most of the barracks assigned to conscripts were burning, but not all.  The few iliri foolish enough to volunteer for service were placed in another set of buildings.  Like the one where Rayna had been assigned when she'd joined up.  Filled with mostly human trainees, there had always been a couple of pale-skinned soldiers getting taunted, and if Terric was being fed inside information, they'd know that as well as she did.

"Over here," she told Ilija, aiming for one of the long buildings that wasn't on fire.  "Infantry Barracks."

This close to the wall, the crowd was thinner.  Most Conglomerate soldiers were focused on either helping with keeping the blaze contained or getting people away from it, making the inbound streets a mass of bodies – and not all of them were walking.  That's where the extremists had been targeting people.  It was like spearing fish in a barrel, but here?  Back here...

She poked her head around the building and saw exactly what she remembered.  At least five soldiers in black were peppered among a couple dozen in blue.  Then there were about ten in green.  Green!  The only regular Anglian soldiers in this country had been sent east to help with the border.  There shouldn't be anyone in green.

"What the fuck?" Rayna asked, leaning back to let Ilija look.

He didn't try to be subtle about it, just stepped around the corner and got an eyeful.  "I'd say that's pretty definitive."

She tugged him back out of sight.  "You see their detainees?"

"Yeah?"

Rayna shoved at his chest.  "You notice anything special about them in your blatant examination?"

"You mean that they're crossbreds?  Nah, I saw that."

And they were holding them right out in the open, not even worried about someone seeing.  Then again, all three units of Anglians were split up into smaller groups to stop as many of the extremists as possible.  Nya had her pack and the Shield's sisters focused on getting iliri out of the burning buildings.  The grauori healers had been localized so people could bring the wounded to them.  All week long, Anglia had been marching around in their pretty little uniforms making everyone accept that the odd colors were supposed to be here, and Terric had managed to turn it to their advantage.

Guys... Rayna thought, reaching out to everyone she could as she kept Ilija from peeking back around the side of the building.  We have a problem.  A really fucking big one.

Got a lot of those, Pig pointed out.

Well, this one is trimmed in purple and has to have a good dozen conscripts in custody.  Along with their little blue friends, we're kinda out numbered.

Location, Sal demanded.

Rayna looked up, trying to determine exactly where she was among the smoke and soot stained siding.  Pretty sure this is the back of Infantry Housing, somewhere around barracks 10, I think.

Good, Sal thought.  I have a message for them to take back to the Emperor.

"That doesn't sound good," Rayna told Ilija.

He shrugged.  "She's a lot more bark than bite."

"Have you seen her list of kills?  And those are only the documented ones."  Rayna gave him a baffled look.  "And does she sound all happy and forgiving to you?"

Ilija scratched at the scruff on his jaw.  "She sounds pretty normal.  I mean, for an iliri queen on the warpath.  Guess it all depends on your definition of normal, huh?"

Rayna actually laughed.  "Bro, if we make it out of this alive, I'm buying you a drink."

"Sounds like a plan.  Just don't tell my wife.  I'm already in deep shit for missing birth number three.  You start telling her I'm hanging out with the Consort and she'll castrate me quicker than even Sal could manage."

"Mm.  That does put a slightly different perspective on it."  Rayna paused, sucking in a deep breath as she forced herself to relax.  "But seriously.  What are we doing about those conscripts?"

The Colonel smiled.  "I got an idea.  You wanna start some shit with me?"

"What kinda idea?"

"Gonna take a page from the Kaisae.  Nothing gets people motivated like a little shame and bluster – cept maybe a little bit of screaming.  Helps when it's a woman."

Rayna nodded.  "I can scream."

"I know.  My room's next to yours.  Trust me, Rayna, I know."

"Oh, fuck off!" she groaned.  "Seriously, though.  What are we doing?"

He smiled wide enough to make his teeth stand out against his dark skin.  "We're gonna get the Kaisae an army."

Chapter 48

SAL STORMED DOWN the middle of the street.  Barracks 10, Rayna had said, and she remembered exactly where that was.  All she had to do was get there – and stop every extremist she happened to see on her way.  Tyr and Joevar were doing a pretty good job of making that happen without slowing her down at all.

"Left," Sal said, focusing on the man wrapped in vibrations that only she could sense.

Tyr rushed him, shouldering the guy to the ground and disarming him easily.  While Sal looked for the next, Tyr ordered the soldiers around him to tie the man's arms and take him to wherever prisoners were being kept.  They obeyed, not even caring that he wasn't in their chain of command.  Right now, these people would obey anyone who acted like they were in charge.

"Yours, Joevar," Sal breathed, outlining the person in his mind.

"Yes, Kaisae."  And just like Tyr, he was off.

Joevar wasn't as pretty of a fighter, but he was brutal.  It worked.  It also convinced the people around the extremist sleeper to join in.  As soon as they had the bastard under control, she sent Joevar on to the next.  Then it was Tyr's turn again, and she was at least halfway there.

"Orders?" Teya, one of the Dogs, asked as she slipped in beside Sal.  Mia was with her.

Sal grabbed their links and pulled them in with her and the two guys.  "We're making sure the extremists are secure."  She smiled.  "I can see them."

A rush of worry came from Mia.  "Kaisae?"

"It's a very useful insanity, don't you think?"

"Uh huh," she agreed.

So she got sent after the next.  Thankfully, Mia didn't hesitate – Pig had trained them too well – but her concerns did taint the link.  Sal didn't really blame her.  A few weeks ago, she would have thought the exact same.  Kaisaes went crazy.  All her life, she'd thought only prophets like Blaec could see the future.  Then again, what Sal was experiencing wasn't quite that clear cut.

Pushes, pulls, tangles, and interactions.  She could see the ties that bound people together, or would, but only for a specific reason.  Right now, it was anyone who intended to cause harm.  Not just any harm, but a very specific kind.  The kind that would incite the base, destroy the country, and lose this war.  The kind that the extremists and Terric were wielding like a weapon.  The kind she was sick and tired of dealing with.

The kind that caused dissent.

But, if she could get enough of these people out of the picture, the problem would fade.  She wasn't sure how she knew that or where it came from, but she wasn't foolish enough to doubt it.  Unfortunately, rumor always traveled faster than feet, and while she was marching her small group of warriors ever forward, those points of interest were fading back.  Away from her.  Right to where they intended to make a last stand.  Right where the main knot was concentrated.

Anglia, Sal ordered, reaching for them all, I want them cornered.  Get my people free, and then I want those Terrans dead.  All but one.  I need someone to tell me their plans.

We're on it, Ilija assured her.  Gonna bring the Conglomerate in from the west side.

Arctic's voice came next.  I'm bringing Shade in from the east.

The north is a wall, Jase sent for those who weren't familiar with Fort Landing's layout.

Then that's the side we'll take, Nya told them.  Every maargra not healing the fire victims needs to get over there.  Now!

Tyr replied, So the south is ours.  I've got eyes on your girl, Cyno.  She's keeping me safe.

Which made Pig speak up.  All Dogs to the Kaisae.

Shields to me, Ilija added.

And Blades?  Arctic told them.  Take care of everything else.

***

"This is the CFC!" Rayna was yelling, hefting her sword high.  "Nothing can stop this army.  Not fire, not fear, and certainly not the enemy!  Terric has invaded Fort Landing, and we will push them back.  They cannot have this base!"

Dozens of soldiers pushed closer, cheering in agreement.  Some had also drawn their swords.  Others shoved nothing more than their fists toward the sky.  Standing beside her, Ilija smiled.  His plan was working.  The same way Sal had stormed into his barracks a year ago and shamed him into joining her cause, Rayna was inciting the Conglomerate soldiers to theirs.  The same way he had, the men around him were eating it up.  Her vehemence was like a drug they needed.  Evidently, all soldiers really were the same, regardless of where they came from.  They wanted to help.  They wanted to be the heroes.  They just needed someone to point them in the right direction, and Rayna had a talent for that.

"Are you with me?" the Consort demanded.

All around them, the crowd erupted into cheers.  Ilija chuckled to himself.  If the Terrans heard that, they'd probably think it was some successful rescue.  Then again, they had been smart enough to get into the base without being noticed so they might be on high alert.  He didn't have time to let this get out of hand.

"I need organized ranks," he bellowed.  "Shoulder to shoulder.  Anyone who raises a weapon to us is to be detained, not killed.  We're going to take our iliri back.  Terric can't have them!  This is the Conglomerate of Free Citizens, and we will not fall to the enemy!"

He thrust his arm forward and started marching.  Rayna moved to his left side, her weapon up and ready for battle.  Behind them, at least three dozen blue-clad soldiers fell into organized ranks like they'd been trained for it.  As soon as he was sure they were going to follow, Ilija picked up the pace.

By the time they reached the end of the block, it was an all-out charge.

***

"This way," Kolt ordered, leading his group through the burnt wreckage of the Conscript Housing cluster.

Never mind that Shade was the only person here who didn't outrank him.  At that moment, it didn't really matter.  Sal needed their help, he knew the shortest path, and if the leaders of the pack were going to roll him for overstepping his place, they could wait until the fight was over.

That's when cheering broke out in the distance.  It came from the west, so Ilija was probably already dealing with it.  From the south, the sound of voices was getting louder.  The only opening was their side, which meant that was the direction Terric was probably going to use to bolt.

"Arctic?" he asked.

"I know," the Raewar replied.  "I'm locating the rest of the pack, trying to move them this way."

"Who's on Sal?" Kolt demanded.

This time, Jase answered.  "She has the Dogs.  All the Dogs."

"And Tyr won't leave her side," Zep assured him.  "He knows better."

"Ghost?" Shade asked, worry in her voice.

Arctic turned to smile at her.  "With Shift, Geo, and Razor.  Don't worry, imp.  They're moving this way.  He's fine.  They should meet us at the next cross street."

"Risk and Tilso?" Kolt asked.

Zep chuckled.  "Healing, bro.  Tilso holds, Risk puts them back together."

"Everyone's converging," Arctic told them, "but we're the weak point.  The Black Blades are going to be the only thing between those Terrans and their way out – and there's a lot of pissed off Conglomerate soldiers who are gonna be right on their heels."

***

Dom could hear the orders.  He was following all of the chatter sent across the link publicly, but he had bigger things to worry about.  He'd sworn to Sal that he'd take care of her sadava, but Raast wasn't having much luck.  No matter how hard she focused, she barely started healing before biting back a growl.

"What's going on?" He asked her sister, Rhyx.

The young grauori looked up at him with eyes the same color as Sal's.  She can't heal away something that isn't his.

"I have no idea what that means," he admitted.

"What?" Odi asked, unable to hear half of that.

With a snarl, Raast's head snapped to the King.  "I cannot heal him because we must remove the splinter.  If I close the wound around it, he will only fester and die."

"Great," Ran groaned.

But those words were one thing Odi understood.  "Seems like there are limits to your powers after all," he said as he tossed the General's arm over his shoulder.  "Sire, I'm going to need you to help."

"With?"

"Hospital," Odi told him.  "It's where we mere mortals get our boo boos fixed."

"Girls," Dom said as he slipped under Ran's other arm, "I need you two to lead the way and watch our backs.  There could be more people waiting for the chance to jump us."

Odi scoffed.  "Aren't they just kids, sire?"

"Grauori are never kids," Dom assured him.  "Besides, these are Black Blades, Lance Corporal.  Trust me.  They'll kill anyone who gets in our way – and probably eat them."

"That's my girls," Ran grunted, then braced for the men on either side to lift him to his feet.

The motion broke the partially healed wound open, and blood began to leak into the cloth of his shirt.  Dom could feel it, warm against his side, but he wasn't going to say anything.  It wouldn't help, and he was going to need that breath to make it halfway across the base.

"Rhyx," Raast said, using the Iliran language.  "Run ahead and find the doctor.  Tell him we need help.  Do not stop."

"Ya."

When the larger of the girls raced off, Odi grunted something that sounded like, "Uh?"

"Easier to speak than Glish," Raast told him.  "Help is coming."

"Their tongues," Dom managed to get out.  "Too long for half our letters."

"Oh."  Then Odi looked at the man between them.  "General, you still with us?"

"Shut up and keep moving," Ran gasped.

He might still be with them, but clearly walking wasn't at all comfortable.  Ran also wasn't a light man.  Decades of muscle had built on his body, hidden by the softness that came with age, but right now Dom could feel every bit of it digging into the top of his shoulder.  Ran was weak enough that he wasn't really helping, more like moving his legs at his own pace while the men on either side dragged his toes through the dirt.

It wasn't respectful, and it sure wasn't pretty, but if they could keep him alive, none of it would matter.  If they couldn't?  If the only family Sal had ever known died while on his watch?  Dom didn't even want to think about what that would do to her.  She'd suffered too much already.  Her sanity was already paper thin.  If she broke, the whole continent would likely go down with her.

"Hang in there," Dom begged.

"Not dying today," Ran assured him.  "Maybe tomorrow."

"Like that's any better."

They were almost halfway there when they finally saw someone else on the street.  A lot of them.  Dressed in blue, at least five, probably six Conglomerate soldiers rushed toward them.  Without hesitation, Raast jumped in front of them, the dense mane at the back of her neck rising to stand on end, and a deep rumble shook Dom to his bones.

"Help!" Rhyx yipped, racing around them on all four legs.  "I got help."

"Sire!" the closest man yelled, gesturing for the rest to move in.  "We have a stretcher and bearers.  The, uh, gragri?  It said General Sturmgren was wounded."

"One to the gut," Ran grunted, sounding like it hurt to even talk.

"Yes, sir.  Doctor Coebins is preparing for surgery as we speak.  We're to get you to the infirmary.  I just need you to let us help you onto the stretcher, sir."

Fluidly, the men stepped in to take the General's weight from Dom and Odi.  Another pair moved to his feet.  Without a word, they eased the older man up and onto a sheet of canvas strapped to the wooden poles held by two others.  As soon as Ran was secure, his weight was shifted among four of them, and they started moving.  Quickly.

"Follow me," the man in charge offered.  "The medics are taking him straight to prep.  I'll show you the waiting room."  He gestured, doing his best to be polite, but couldn't help himself.  "Is the fire under control?  We're all waiting for the burn victims to start showing up."

"Won't be many of those," Dom told him, stretching his legs to walk faster.  "Grauori are healing on site."  He made the proper pronunciation clear.  "More are working with the extraction teams to get any wounded out.  So long as they're still breathing, we probably have someone there to put them back together."

"And the fires?"

Dom smiled.  "Out cold."

"Good."

"Not as much as you think.  There's a unit of Terrans inside the base.  Another ten are dead where they attacked the Kaisae and General.  We have no idea how many more might have infiltrated Fort Landing during this distraction."

The other man with them finally spoke up.  "That's bad."

"Sal will fix it," Dom assured them.  "They made the mistake of attacking her father.  Right now, nothing in the world is going to stop that bitch from getting her revenge."

"Her father?"

"General Sturmgren," Odi answered smugly.  "Adopted, or so I hear."

"Oh shit," the man in charge breathed.  "I'll make sure the doctor knows."

Dom nodded.  "Good idea."

Chapter 49

THE STREETS WERE CLEARING.  Men were cheering.  Everyone was moving in the same direction, and Sal was at the center of it all.  Fourteen of the Devil Dogs had made their way to her, and they now had her surrounded, keeping the humans from getting too close.  Hundreds of people filled the street.  Dozens were on the enemy's side.  There was no way this battle would last long.  All she needed was a definitive location.

Infantry Housing number 10, Ryek announced.  Pushing over to barracks 9.  I've got eyes on approximately twenty-five Terrans, and I'm guessing ten to twenty CFC traitors.  Hard to be sure with the iliri being jostled around between them.

That's all I need, Sal assured him.

She wasn't about to let the crowd take this from her.  Those men had hurt her sadava.  They were part of the reason why Blaec was dead.  She was owed a debt, and at least one of them was going to pay it.  If she had her way, it would be a lot more.

"Move!" Sal ordered, increasing the size of her own steps.

They moved.  They all moved, and in the back of her mind, she knew the rest of her men were aiming to meet her.  Sal had to get there first.  Had to make this kill.  She had to get her hands on someone who could let her know how this all turned so very wrong.

With a roar, she surged to the front of the line.  On her left, she could see Tyr running, struggling to keep the pace.  He was right beside her when she turned the last corner and slammed into the back of a man in green, sword first.  She wrenched her blade free, and he shouldered the body out of the way, helping her to push ever forward.

From the side, she could see a mass of blue rushing in.  Screams filled the air.  The sugar of human blood drowned out the scent of ash.  Like some force of nature, they all collided, the crash of resin on ceramic the perfect staccato counterpoint for this dance.  And there, right ahead of her was exactly the kind of person she'd been hoping to see.  A Terran brave enough to wear black, the lines of purple accents at his collar marking him as an officer.  Hopefully, one who knew enough to make a difference.

"He's mine!" Sal yelled, ducking a blade to wedge herself closer.

Tyr groaned something that didn't sound very nice as he hacked at the man trying to attack her.  "Joevar, I'm gonna need a little help over here."

She didn't dare look back to check on him.  She couldn't lose her prey.

Kaisae, one of the grauori sent, we have horses and more men outside the walls.

Black? Sal asked.  In black and purple?

Ya.  Some in green.  Some in blue.

Kill everyone in black.  Hold the rest for reading.

The grauori responded in the affirmative just as the officer she was stalking began yelling, "Retreat!  Everyone out.  Let's go, go, go!"

"Oh, I don't think so," Sal snarled – and then she lunged.

Her hand caught the back of his shirt, but the man beside him turned, swinging.  There was nowhere to go.  Sal braced for the bite of the blade, but it never came.  Resin rang against resin, and Tyr slammed his back into hers, his weapon holding the enemy off.  She was safe.  He'd keep her safe.  Now, she finally had the chance to finish this.

Sal shoved the officer against the outer wall, dropping her blades to grab both sides of his face.  He fought back, struggling to get out of her grip, but she wouldn't make this easy.  The harder he fought, the tighter she held until her fingers were digging into his cheeks and jaw.  Then she pulled at his mind.

Stop, she ordered, forcing his body to obey.  "Who ordered this?"

Images flashed in her head, but he said, "We came for diplomatic reasons."

"Bullshit.  Why are you here?"  More images.  These were more complicated.  "I already know you want the iliri.  What else?"

Metal.  Lots and lots of metal.  He imagined it to be in crates filled with ingots or swords.  The way the images shifted from one to the other, she knew that was simply his perception of what they were after, not a specific description.

"And where is it?  Where is the metal you're after?"  When a crystal clear picture of the entrance to the storage cellars above the dig site appeared, Sal was almost shocked enough to let go.  "Who told you where it is?"

Jeric's face.  The same face Ran had imagined.  The one she'd barely even noticed as he sat in meeting after meeting with her.  She was getting sick and tired of seeing that man's likeness in other people's minds.

"Where is he?  Where's the man who told you how to get our metal?"

"Fuck you," the Terran growled, struggling against her compulsion.  "I will not give in to your evil tricks."

"Yes," she assured him, "you will.  Where is Jeric Attah right now?"

Horses.  Mountains.  Riding hard.  A scroll in a hand.  The Emperor's seal on the ring holding it.  A white hand trying to take it but unable to reach.  Amusement.  Dozens of people laughing.  Laughing at her.  "We planned this too well, bitch."

Nya? Sal called, hoping the Raewar of the grauori was listening.  I have a traitor riding to the border, hard.  Most likely wearing blue.  I know his face.

Send it to me, she replied.  Sisters, the Kaisae needs us.  We will find her prey.

Sal focused on the many glimpses of Jeric's face that she'd seen recently, pushing them to Nya across the link.  She'd never tried it at this distance, but the grauori did.  They shared their mental flames from much further away, so hopefully...

Got it, Nya told her.  What about the people with him?

Kill them.  Bring only that one back, please.

Yes, Kaisae.

Sal smiled, letting the man before her see every point on her sharp teeth.  "It's two and a half days by horse if they run them till they drop.  Four if they walk.  Considering that I just sent an entire pack of those white beasts out to bring back the man I'm looking for, who do you think is going to win this game?"

The color began to drain from his face.  "He came willingly."

"Oh, I know.  That doesn't mean he's going to get away with it."  She leaned closer and inhaled.  "You see, one of your friends put a sword in my father.  Your Emperor killed my lover.  It seems that you have very, very bad friends, and now you're going to pay for it."

"Sal?" Tyr said, keeping his voice down.  "Let's put a move on this."

"Fine," she huffed, never taking her eyes off the man before her.  "Who ordered you into Fort Landing?"

The man swallowed.  "I gave the order."  He didn't even bother lying.  The images in his mind confirmed it.

She sighed.  "Well, that was no fun.  Give me a reason to keep you alive.  Something I need to know because I really want this to be a little more gratifying."

"We thought you were in Unav.  There's been no word of Anglia in the Conglomerate, but then you showed up, and we had to improvise.  Wasn't hard to get some green uniforms made up, and our infiltrators in the base –"

"Who?" she demanded.  "I want to know every one of them."

"Uh, there's, um..."  He was trying to recall their names, the whole time giving her what she really wanted.  Faces.  Each and every face he'd talked to was going through his mind at lightning speed as he desperately reached for some bit of information that would make his life last a little longer.

"Perfect," she told him.

"Sal!" Tyr hissed, more insistent this time.  "Sweetie, we got trouble incoming."

Forcing her prisoner to keep still, she dared to look back.  Tyr was braced, ready to face whatever came – and that whatever was a group of very big men wielding some rather impressive weapons.  That they were wearing blue didn't make it any better, because they were hacking at their own side.

Ghost! Sal screamed.  Drop everyone!

He didn't bother responding, he simply obeyed.  The man in her hands opened his mouth in a silent scream as his body tensed.  All around them, people fell to the ground, swatting at imaginary flies or something around them.

Arctic's voice came next.  Anglians, disarm and detain.  Quickly.  I'm sure our allies are going to be pretty pissed about this.

But through the skin of the man she still held, more images were flooding her mind.  Jeric wasn't working alone.  He was the relay for someone with real power.  His boss had a plan, and that plan would completely change this war.  The Terran hoped Sal wouldn't find out.  He hoped it so hard, she couldn't possibly miss it.  This guy had never seen Jeric's boss's face, but he knew one very important thing: he was a General with enough rank to pass along the most sensitive information in the War Room, and he was supposed to meet them at the ship.

"Fuck," Sal breathed, shattering the man's mind as she left him for dead.  "Tyr!"

"I'm disarming and detaining," he called back in an annoyed sing-song.

"Tyr!  I need you with me right now."  Jase, where are you three?

Takin' care of the Terrans trying ta leave.  Ya need me?

Yes, Sal told him as she snagged her blades from the ground.  Without stopping, she caught Tyr's arm and turned for the center of Fort Landing.  This is worse than we thought.  She tried to follow the sensations that had helped her so far, but it made her head spin.  They weren't giving her any idea where the Generals were.  Pausing to suck in a breath, she kept going.  It's one of the Generals.  I think Albin.  Someone's been passing everything to the Terran I just killed, and if he's only half the idiot I think, he's probably been passing that back to the Emperor.  She couldn't catch her breath.  Jase?

Yeh, kitten?

Something's wrong.  And then she dropped.

Tyr caught her before she hit the ground, but Sal was out cold, completely limp in his arms.  Cyno!  She's unconscious.

We're on our way, Zep sent back.  Don't move.  He's coming for you.

"Oh, Sal," Tyr whispered, carrying her into the closest building to avoid the insanity on the streets.  "C'mon, sweetie.  Don't do this to me."

The fires hadn't done much damage to this one.  Soot was still everywhere, but right now Tyr didn't really care.  Heading for a corner, he sank to the ground with her in his lap, checking her over for injuries.  She'd fainted like she'd been poisoned.  The problem was that he couldn't find a single thing wrong with her.

"Sal," he whispered, grabbing her fingers.  "We kinda need you right now, beautiful, and you're scaring me."

With all his heart, he just wanted her to do something.  Even a groan would help.  Maybe she hadn't eaten enough?  The guys were always going on about how she had to have her meals, and he knew that when iliri weren't fed enough, it made them weaker and easy to control, but did it happen this fast?  Could it be something else?

"Please," he begged, trying to will her awake.

She sucked in a breath, struggling to open her eyes.  "More."

More? he wondered.  More what?  "Help me out here, sweetie."

She shifted her fingers, wrapping them around the back of his hand.  "This."

Then she pulled.  The same way she had with Risk in the infirmary, Sal pulled energy from Tyr, but this time she kept it for herself.  It wasn't as hard, but he wasn't as fresh.  It didn't take long before he felt the strain on his body.  Thankfully, that's when Jase darted into the room, instinctually knowing where she was.

"Do na hurt him," he said as he pried her hand free.  "I have plenty fer ya, Sal."

With another gasp, she released Tyr's hand and took Jase's.  Then she pulled again.  Jase, however, didn't wilt.  He didn't struggle to stay upright before her.  He merely locked eyes with her and gave her everything.  When it finally felt like the world had stopped spinning, she let him go.

"What happened, kitten?" he asked.

She shook her head.  "The...  Ayati?  It just left and I felt like the world was falling out from under me."

"Because ya were na meant ta do that on yer own?" he asked.

Sal shrugged.  "I don't know.  Killer, I have no idea what I'm doing."  Then she remembered how she'd got there.  "Tyr?"

"I'm fine, sweetie.  Won't refuse a hand up, but you were going on about a General and being in a hurry before you took a nap."

"Albin," she growled, pushing herself off the soot stained floor.

Jase thrust out a hand to Tyr.  "Ya fresh enough ta come with us?"

"Wouldn't miss this for the world, Ahnor.  Thanks, man."

"Nah, I am the one that owes ya.  Zep and Kolt are na far behind.  We need ta find Military Command."

Sal paused halfway to the door.  Dom?

Is the fight over? the King replied.

Close enough.  Is Ran healed?  I need to know where the other Generals are.

Um, Sal?  The King paused for a little too long.  He's in surgery.  Raast couldn't fix him.

And for the second time, she felt like her knees weren't nearly strong enough to hold her.  This time, however, she didn't let them give out.  "Someone had better get me to the hospital.  Now!"

Chapter 50

ZEP AND KOLT met Sal, Jase, and Tyr on the street.  Sal updated them with a thought, her eyes looking for some way to get to the other side of the base faster.  There wasn't one.  Every horse that had been brought over was hitched to the water pumps.  The streets were littered with bodies – some conscious, some not.  The enemy had been detained, the friendlies were confused by the fear that had hit them, and everyone was milling around.  That meant she was on foot, so Sal set out at a brisk pace.

Ilija, I need you to get this mess cleaned up.  If you can find any of the Generals, let me know.  I'm looking for them.  She didn't even try to hide the anger in her mental voice.

Yes, sir, Ilija replied, asking nothing else.

Nya, I need that man.  Sooner is better than later.

The bitch's response was almost as fast.  We're tracking now.

That left nothing else to do and it was too far for her to run the whole way.  Plus, Sal was strangely exhausted.  Determination was the only thing keeping her still moving.  Never mind that every hint of those insane sensations she'd been growing used to had vanished.  Not a push, not a pull, and definitely no tangles to give her any clue what would come next.

"It seems I'm doing this on my own," she mumbled to herself.

"Doing what?" Kolt asked, steering her around a group of people.

She let him.  "All the insanity has vanished.  I'm like old Sal again."

"Ran out of fuel for the ayati lantern?" he asked.

Her head snapped over to look at him in shock.  "That's exactly what it feels like!"

"Then that's probably what it is."  He gave her a boyish smile, then she felt his fingers slip between hers.  "I can top you up."

"Bro," Zep groaned from behind them.  "Bad pick-up line.  Don't ever use that one again.  Just no, man."

"I meant her special –"  Kolt clamped his mouth shut and groaned.  "Never mind.  That would be worse."

Zep chuckled, pushing closer to lean over Sal's shoulder.  "Can we keep him?  Please, baby?"

"Stop distracting her," Tyr said from Zep's other side.  "She has to focus to do that siphoning thing, and I'm thinking walking is hard enough."

"Sorry."  Zep fell back a step but smacked Tyr's arm.  "I'm just kinda glad she's ok.  Thanks for keeping an eye on her."

Tyr shrugged.  "She's my Kaisae.  Kinda swore a vow about it, man.  Don't take it personal or anything."

"Mhm."

It seemed to take forever before they reached the edge of the crowd.  There, a collection of horses stood hipshot over by the healers.  She headed right for them, not caring who they might belong to.  The guy standing beside them made no move to stop her.

Zep began to unwind the reins of one, patting its neck.  "We're borrowing the horse," he told the guy.  "Let whoever owns him know that if they want him back, he'll be at the hospital."

The Private smiled.  "Considering that's where he's supposed to be, I don't see a problem, sir."

"Ya are riding with her?" Jase asked.

"Yeah," Zep assured him as he pulled the reins free.  "I don't trust her not to pass out halfway there."

"Good call," Kolt said.  "We'll be right behind you."

"Yep."  And Zep swung into the saddle, reaching down for Sal.

Her weight was barely on the horse's back before they were off.  She pushed close, wrapping her arms around his waist, and let her eyes close for a moment.  It wasn't long, but it let her push back the unquenchable need to keep fighting.  The maast had been driving her since she'd cut that first man in the courtyard.  Heading into a hospital?  She wasn't sure this was a good idea, but she didn't exactly have any other options.

Don't let me bite anyone, Zep.

She felt his chuckle rumble through his back.  I'm totally up for you biting me.  I'll do my best to keep your mouth off everyone else, ok?

Thank you.  It smells like blood in there.

I know, demon, but you've got this.  Then the sound of his voice dimmed, but she could tell he was still thinking.

By the time they made it to the front of the infirmary, her little boost was finally starting to work.  The weight she hadn't realized was slowing her down had finally dissipated, but she was still far from normal.  Zep wasn't much better.  It happened to every soldier after a battle, but she didn't have time for this.  She had to check on her dava, find Albin, and hope that the officer she'd killed hadn't had the chance to send a message back to the Emperor.  In other words, her clean and easy strategy to beat back Terric had become one big mess.

"Tell Arctic to start looking at alternative strategies," she told Zep as she pushed herself off the horse.

He dropped beside her.  "Soon as he's not busy.  Why?"

"Because I think the enemy knows our plans."  She turned for the door, but Zep grabbed her arm.

"Hold up."  He jerked his head up the street.

When Sal looked, she saw a single mutt running at them, the gold tips on the ears making Roo easily recognizable.  The weird thing was that she was only using three legs.  The front right was tucked to her chest, but when she got closer, Sal saw something in her hand.

Food, Roo thought, not stopping until she was right before Sal.  Dried maerte.  Zep said you need to push back the maast.

Sal took the cloth pouch and dropped to hug her sister.  "Thank you, Roo."

Eat, Roo ordered, giving the kind of glare that proved she was a mother.

Sal opened the drawstring and pulled out a strip of jerky, obediently taking a bite.  The tingle on her tongue said it was exactly what she needed.  Before she could help herself, she shoved the whole piece into her mouth and reached for a second.

"Ok," Zep told her.  "Eat and walk, so you don't bite anyone who says the wrong thing."  And he turned her for the door.

Inside, her feet rang out on the hard floor of the elegant entryway.  The man behind the information desk turned to the sound, jumping to his feet when he recognized her.

"Kaisae?"  His left arm pointed up the hall.  It was weak and withered, making it clear why he was behind a desk.  "Surgery is that way."

"Just follow the hall?" she asked.

"Straight through two intersections, turn left at the –"

Sal marched up to him and offered her hand.  The one without the pouch of food.  "Let's do this the easy way.  Touch me and think the map?"

He clasped his palm against hers with no hesitation in the grip.  Clear as she could hope, the layout of the building filled her mind, a red line showing her exactly where to go.  "Like that?" he asked.

"Perfect.  Thank you, soldier.  I'll have a grauori look at your arm when one is free."

"Already healed, sir.  It's been long enough that the muscle was withered so they said I have to build it up on my own, but it should be fine."  Then he snapped a salute.  "Thank you, sir."

She thumped her chest in response and turned, trying to hurry while still looking dignified.  Roo trotted at her side.  Even Zep had to stretch his legs to keep up, reaching over to press his hand to her back so she could scarf down the rest of the meat, but it didn't make the building any smaller.  Winding through the halls, the echo was almost tangible.  The last time she'd been here, this place had been filled with wounded.  Now, it seemed like they had more empty rooms than ever before.

By the time she was done with her impromptu meal, she could already feel the effects.  The maast wasn't gone, but it was much easier to control.  She'd also found the Generals she'd been looking for.  At the end of a long, empty hall, Usur, Kaysir, Albin, and Laibek leaned against the walls, two on each side, parked before a pair of double doors.  Lying beside them were the pups, Rhyx and Raast.  Dom sat on the ground beside them.

"How is he?" Sal asked, breaking into a jog.

"He's going to be ok," Dom promised.  The girls jumped up to greet their dam.

Laibek pushed himself away from the wall and turned to her.  "Raast said there was a splinter in the wound.  She showed Doctor Coebins where, and he's gone in to find it."

"The resin," Sal breathed, finally understanding why she hadn't been able to heal him.  "We can't repair something that doesn't belong there."

Raast looked up.  "The doctor said he understood.  I will heal my Kauvwor as soon as the splinter is out, Amma."

Sal knew the word meant grandfather, and it touched her to hear the pups think of him like that.  "Thank you, baby."  Then, she dropped against the wall beside Laibek, her eyes flicking to Albin.  "So what happened to Odi?"

Dom gestured back down the hall.  "Said he was going back out to help.  Made me swear I wouldn't leave the hospital alone, so I decided to wait here until we had some real news."

"And the rest of you?  How'd you all find out?"

"Calix, the leader of that new elite group, told me," Laibek said.

Usur chuckled.  "I had a grauori pull me off the pumps.  Seems the staff here sent out people to find us."

"I came in with a burned soldier from the western line of barracks," Albin said.  "She'd run over there for help so, after sending a few units back to Conscript Housing, I carried her in.  The staff sent me over here."

"The woman.  Iliri?" Sal asked, focused on his response.

Albin nodded.  "Never would have guessed, either.  Skin as dark as half the humans in this base, but she had the teeth."

Something wasn't right.  Albin was rude and a pig, but he didn't even smell concerned.  Tired, sweaty, and covered in things she didn't want to identify, sure, but Sal couldn't find a hint of lies or deceit coming from him.  She shot a look at Zep.

I'm with ya, he promised, meaning he was peeking through her senses.

So she decided to push a little.  "Looks like Jeric let the Terrans in the base and was passing them information."

Albin surged forward.  "What?!  That stupid little piece of shit.  I went out of my way for his family to make sure he had the chance to prove himself, and this is what he does?"

Honest.  Nothing but honest rage.  Sal's head tilted as she tried to make sense of that.  It didn't take long.

Sal, Nya's voice broke in.  My sisters have this Jeric.  What do you want?

The face of the man who helped him.  The one the Terran's called his boss.

For a moment there was only silence.  It lasted too long, every heartbeat making Sal feel like the world was hanging by a string, then Nya tossed a memory into Sal's mind.  She dove into it, flipping through all the pieces as fast as she could until she finally saw the man's face – and it wasn't the one she'd expected.

"You!" Sal snarled, drawing her dagger as she lunged.

Kaysir's head snapped up, and he scrambled backward.  "What?"

He wasn't fast enough.  She surged into his face, her fist following a second later, impaling her steel blade right into his gut.  It was the exact same wound her sadava had taken to defend his country.  Then, just for good measure, she twisted.

Dom and Zep had immediately pulled their swords and moved to guard her back.  Roo, Raast, and Rhyx had jumped to their feet, each of them standing before one of the Generals.  All of them were braced for things to get ugly.

"She knows what she's doing, guys," Zep told the Generals.  "You all need to keep your weapons in their sheaths."

Laibek already had his held before him.  "Doesn't work like that, and you know it, boy."

"She's on your side," Dom told them.

"He's the traitor," Sal explained before things got out of hand.  Kaysir groaned, pawing at the blade still inside him, so she gave it another little twist.  "This is the man who's been passing all of the CFC's plans to the enemy."

"I did no such thing!" he gasped.

Sal grabbed his throat, preventing him from sliding down the wall.  "Jeric spilled his guts, General.  My sisters are bringing him back so everyone can hear it for themselves.  That means you have two options.  You can admit to what you've done and get a fair Conglomerate trial, or you can plead your innocence and let me see how far this diplomatic immunity really goes."

Laibek tried to step forward, but a snarl from Rhyx stopped him.  "You can't torture a confession out of him, Kaisae.  That's not how it works here."

"See, that's the thing.  I don't really want him to, but we have witnesses."  She leaned closer to Kaysir's ear as she slowly withdrew her dagger.  "I have memories, too, and I can share those with humans now."  Through her touch, she began healing him.  "Close your eyes and start talking, because if you don't, I'll get to do that again and again.  That is what I want to do."

From the corner of her eye, she could see Laibek's sword slowly dropping.  "How can you be sure your intel is right, Kaisae?"

"Stay," she told Kaysir, locking his body in place.  With one hand still on him, she beckoned Laibek over with the other.  The bloody one holding her dagger.

"Take that," she told him, flipping the blade so the hilt was toward him, "then touch me?"

"Don't do it," Albin warned.

"Do it," Usur said, "or I will.  Ran trusts her.  I'm pretty sure she saved our base.  What's the worst that happens?"

"She rips out his mind?" Albin said.

Laibek reached between the two Anglians and took the blade with one hand, clasping her wrist with the other.  Then his body twitched.  Hard.  The General sucked in a breath, his eyes rolling back in his head, and the other two reached for their swords.

"That's normal," Zep told them.  "Hits humans a little harder until they're used to it.  He's fine, guys."

"I'm fine," Laibek panted, releasing Sal's hand.  "Fuck."  Then he put her dagger back in her palm.  "She's sure.  He's..."  He paused, straightening his shoulders.  "Sal, can you use a little of that diplomatic immunity for me?"

She flashed him a feral smile and stabbed Kaysir again.  This time a little lower, releasing the man to let him scream at the pain.  "Start talking," she growled, turning her full attention back to him.  "Fast, because I have no problem getting this out of you the same way I did the Emperor's son – and he's never been the same since."

"They said they wouldn't push any further into the CFC if we kept them in the loop for a few things," Kaysir gasped.  He looked at the men he'd worked with for years, pleading in his eyes.  "We're losing.  I was trying to buy us time!"

"We do not negotiate with Terric," Albin snapped.

Kaysir nodded.  "That's what I used to say, but..."  He snapped his eyes closed as Sal started to heal him again.  "All they wanted were the scrubbers.  Just the scrubbers, they promised, and they'd leave the rest of our units alone.  I was supposed to make sure they knew which units weren't made of iliri and let Jeric and his friends take a few conscripts out each week."

"You are going to hang for that," Laibek breathed, storming forward.  "Move, Kaisae."

She stepped back in time for Laibek to bring the hilt of his sword down on Kaysir's temple.  Slowly, the man's knees buckled, and his body crumpled into a heap, leaving a long red stain on the wall behind him.  Sal pressed her hand to her lips, but it didn't stop the giggle.

"I could have done that, you know," she said, looking over to Laibek.

"My way felt better."  Then he closed his eyes and sighed.  "Usur?  Would you please find some people to clean this up and haul him to a cell?"

"Sure," Usur agreed, dragging that word out.  "But I think we all deserve a full update."

"You'll get one," Laibek promised as the double doors opened again.

Rayce Coebins stepped out, his bloody hands held before him with the fingers pointing to the sky.  In the right, he held a tiny piece of resin.  One that was a match to the chip on the sword that had impaled Sal's father.

"He's ready for the healer."

Chapter 51

RAAST RUSHED THROUGH the doors, making the doctor hurry to keep up.  Usur sighed and went the other way to get assistance for Kaysir.  At the same time, three men hurried up the hall, heading right for her.  She smiled to see Jase, Kolt, and Tyr, but the little hall was starting to get crowded.

"It was Kaysir," she told them.  "Nya sent me the memories."

Jase looked over at the unconscious man, ignoring the two other Generals keeping an eye on him.  "Did na expect that.  He smelled fine."

"I know."  She sighed and stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his neck.  "This was supposed to have been a good day.  Not this."

"Hey," he breathed, cupping the side of her face.  "Do I need ta get ya out of here?"

"Roo fed me.  How are you?"

He smiled and pushed closer.  "I feel it."

Zep slapped a hand down on Jase's shoulder.  "Not in the halls, little brother.  Your idea of making out tends to scare them.  C'mon.  I'll take you back to the barracks while Sal waits for her dad to get out of surgery."

The little assassin glared at Zep.  "Then who will watch her?"

"I will," Kolt and Tyr said at the same time.

"Them," Zep repeated, never taking his eyes off Jase.  "I got a stash of the good stuff, and you need a little restraint, brother."

Jase hesitated, but Zep's strong hand kept tugging, gently encouraging him to give in.  Finally, he did, dipping his head to kiss Sal quickly before he turned and stormed down the hall.  The emotions he was sending back made Sal smile.  Zep's weren't much different, but the big guy managed to smile at her before hurrying after his other cessivi.

"So you're out of maast?" Tyr asked as soon as her mates were out of sight.

Sal waffled her hand.  "It's controlled."

"Yeah."  He looked over at Kolt.  "Can I borrow her for a second?"

"Sure," Kolt agreed, "but keep her in sight."

"Right over here," Tyr said, grabbing Sal's wrist to guide her a few steps down the hall.  He didn't take her out of iliri hearing, but they were far enough that the humans wouldn't be able to listen in.  "What the hell happened back there?" he asked.

She shoved her hair away from her face and tried to turn away, but he caught her.  Holding her by the shoulders, he ducked to look at her face.  The gesture was so human all she could do was smile.

"I honestly don't know," she told him, keeping her voice down.  "Sometimes I get these sensations – they're hard to explain."

"Ok, but you passed out on me, sweetie.  Just doing one second and falling the next.  Is that something that's going to happen in battle?"

She shook her head, but it wasn't convincing.  "I don't think so."

"Sal, are you pregnant?"  He glanced back to check Kolt, then turned, making sure the guy couldn't read his lips.  "I know it hits some women like that."

Her answer was a hiss.  "I'm not pregnant!"

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," she insisted.  "I'm actually positive, because I really need to cycle soon, but I'm not going to try that in the middle of a human base."

"Right," he mumbled.  "Iliri tricks.  What do humans have to do with that?"

"You know how aggressive dogs can get fighting over a female in heat?"  She cocked her head smugly.  "Imagine if those were the Blades.  I'm not pregnant, Tyr."

He nodded, accepting that.  "So what the hell happened?  Are you sick?"

"No!  I burned myself out, ok?"  She waved at her head.  "The stuff that's been happening in here takes its toll.  And for weeks I haven't been sleeping right.  Not since..."

"Blaec," he finished.  "So what can I do to help?"

She reached over and caught his wrist.  "You're helping, ok?  I'm fine.  My mates will take care of me."

Tyr sighed and stepped back, pulling his arm free.  Shoving a hand into his hair, he almost turned away but paused halfway.  For a moment he simply stared at the wall, thinking, before he gave in and faced her.

"Look, I never should have said anything, ok?  I should have just kept playing it off as a joke, but when we first met you told me something, and it kinda stuck."  Slowly, he closed the distance, reaching up to grab her shoulders.  "You said it starts with a secret, Sal.  This one's mine.  Yeah, I have a crush on you.  It's a stupid thing that doesn't even matter, but it's there.  I told you.  You were supposed to be flattered, let it make you feel beautiful or special or something, and then blow me off.  I get that you aren't into me, and I didn't expect anything else."

"Tyr –"

"No," he said, cutting her off.  "You listen to me for a second.  It starts with a secret.  I gave you mine.  Stop trying to push me away because of it.  I'm still a fucking good soldier, Sal.  I'm still under your command.  I'm still going to do everything it takes to kick the shit out of the Emperor – but none of that has a thing to do with this.  My crush is now our secret, and I'm hoping that one day that little bit of trust will convince you to share one of yours."  He slid his arm down and raised her hand between them, letting his thumb trace a swirl at her wrist.  "You told me that's how we make stories like the ones on your skin."

She sighed and leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist.  "I'm sorry, Tyr.  I wasn't trying to push you away, I'm just not used to anyone saying anything like that to me."

"You should be.  You're amazing, Sal.  The best leader of any nation anywhere."  He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her back, hugging her.  "I figure my secret is that I have a crush on you.  I'm kinda hoping that yours is that you like it when I give you compliments.  That they make you feel good for a second, but that's as far as this is going to go.  I'm your fucking guardsman, and this thing between us is kinda improper."

That finally made her laugh.  "Ok, ok, you made your point."

"Good, now I'm going to make another."  He leaned back to look right in her eyes.  "You ever need to drain me dry, Kaisae, then you do it.  You have my permanent permission.  Deal?"

She nodded.  "Thank you, Tyr."

"Welcome, sweetie.  Now, don't you dare think that this means I'm going to become some kind of loser like Kolt and spend days pining for a little of your attention.  You and I?  We got needs that need to be met, and I think the newest one of yours might be getting a little jealous."  He tipped his head back to Kolt.

"Hey."  She stretched to kiss his cheek.  "Now you've been kissed by a Kaisae."

He groaned and shooed her back to Kolt, but he couldn't hide the smile.  She couldn't either.  He was right.  She did like the compliments, but she'd been worried about the implications.  Three men in her life was more than enough, but she'd started to think of Tyr as a friend.  One she didn't want to lose.  Unfortunately, that's what usually happened when a woman didn't return a man's affection, but he'd made it very clear that wouldn't be a problem.

"So," Kolt said when she got closer.  "Convince him you aren't pregnant?"

"You're pregnant?" Laibek asked.

"No," Sal told him.  "I most certainly am not."  Then she gave Kolt a scathing look.  "Thanks for starting that rumor."

He leaned closer and pulled in a deep breath.  "Pretty sure it won't last long."

"Syrik," she hissed, leaning away from him.

He tugged her back.  "She's not pregnant, guys," he said loud enough for everyone to hear.  Then he dropped his voice.  "You want me to talk to Dom about what's going to happen?"

Sal hadn't even thought about that.  "You don't mind?"

"Probably a lot less than you do.  Besides, I'm trying to prove that I'm useful, remember?"  He smiled.  "Sounds like we'll be here a few more days, though.  The Generals were talking about a trial."

"I figured."

"Good, because –"

The sound of the doors opening made them both turn.  Rayce Coebins was pushing a wheeled bed through it, and Raast trotted at the side.  On it was Ran, but his eyes were closed and he was still asleep.  Sal rushed over to grab his hand, following along as Rayce kept pushing.

"He's unconscious?" she asked.

Raast answered.  "It made healing easier since it would not hurt.  He will wake soon enough."

"And he's ok?"

"He's fine," Rayce promised

But no matter how many times she was told that, it wasn't something she could believe until she saw the proof with her own eyes.  "So where are we going?"

The doctor smiled and turned the bed, wheeling it through a door.  "Right in here.  This room should be big enough for everyone who's going to want to see him.  I'll want to check him again in about an hour, but if he's like the other soldiers you Anglians healed, he should be able to go home tonight."

"Thank you," Sal said as she moved to the far side of the bed.

Rayce reached over and rubbed her shoulder.  "It's my pleasure.  If you can, try to keep him in that bed until he's at least had a meal.  I'm going to get out of your way."

Sal glanced back to see him leave and everyone else try to pile in.  Roo, Rhyx, and Raast took a spot by her side.  Kolt and Tyr waited by the door like sentries.  Albin peeked his head in but didn't stay.  A minute later, Laibek came by to make his own check.

"Guards just arrived to take Kaysir.  Wanted to let you know that everything outside is being taken care of.  Stay with him as long as you need, Kaisae."

"Thank you, General."

Then she was finally alone with her family.  Sal reached over and grabbed Ran's hand, resting her head on the edge of his mattress.  She wanted to make his body purge the chemicals keeping him asleep but refrained, honestly believing that Raast knew best.  It didn't make the waiting any easier.

Finally, his fingers twitched, closing weakly on hers.  "Hey, kiddo," he croaked.

"Dava!" she gasped, looking up to see his eyes half lidded.

He smiled weakly.  "Did we win?"

"Yeah.  Kaysir's been arrested for treason, Jeric is being brought back by the grauori maargra, Shade put the fires out, and everyone else is focused on cleaning up the mess."

"Good."  He sighed, letting his eyes close in a very long blink.  "I feel pretty good."

"Raast healed you.  Ran, you took a sword."

"Oh, I remember.  I also killed the idiot who stabbed me.  How about you?  All of your boys ok?"

"Everyone's fine," she promised.

"Sal passed out," Tyr called from the door.  "Figured her dad might be able to convince her that's a big deal."

Ran chuckled, shaking his head.  "Doesn't work like that, Tyr.  Iliri women are as stubborn as human men, and none of us want to admit we might not be unstoppable."  Then he turned his gaze on her.  "Don't do that again, Sal."

"Which part?"

"The passing out, the putting yourself in danger for a man you could easily heal, or any of it.  You are the one we are supposed to protect.  Your entire army."

She leaned closer.  "And you think you're a part of that army?"

"I'm connected.  Nothing official – at least not until we get the Conglomerate in a little better position."

Her hand squeezed his.  "But unofficially?"

"I got adopted by the strongest bitch on the continent.  Of course I'm involved."

"Good," she purred, then pushed into his mind.

The drugs made the shapes in his head dim and harder to make out, but Sal knew her way around the human mind.  It only took a second longer for her to find the structure she was looking for and flip the switch.  That allowed him to feel the tether that she laid across his thoughts.

"Can you feel that?" she whispered.  "That's me.  I need you to grab onto it with your mind and hold on as tight as you can."

He nodded.  "I got it."

Then she pulled, trying to make it as smooth as Arctic did.  On the other side of the room, Kolt sucked in a breath and stood a little straighter, proving the pack could feel it, but she didn't stop.  Not until she had her sadava's mind tied directly into hers.

Dava?

Ran's eyes snapped open, and he jerked up in the bed.  Sal?

"That's the link," she told him.  "I should have done that a long time ago, but now I'll never lose touch with you.  That makes you a Black Blade."

He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.  "I guess this means I'm going to need another tattoo."

"Yeah.  Put it beside the one for Lightning Brigade."  Then she pulled back to see his face.  "Ran, we do have one little problem."

"Oh?"

"Terric knows our plans.  The entire mission is blown."

Ran smiled.  "Good thing I can work with your Raewar, then.  How long do we have to get a new one?"

"Two, maybe three days.  I want to leave as soon as this trial is over."

Plenty of time, he thought, sending it into her mind like he'd been doing it for his entire life.

Chapter 52

IT ENDED UP taking three days.  Two to get everything ready and the trial lasted another.  It was held in the courtyard outside the officer's hall so everyone could see the outcome, and the place was packed.  Sal was one of many witnesses, but Jeric was the most important.  Usur had offered a deal in exchange for the young man's honest testimony.  It just wasn't as good of a deal as the traitor thought.

Stripped of his rank, Jeric was told that he'd be allowed to serve a five-year sentence in an active front line unit.  The Generals forgot to mention that they already had one picked out – a Conscript unit.  The human in charge was married to an iliri.  Everyone else had pale skin, but they did have an opening.  One of their members had been killed in the barracks fire.  The Generals thought it was a more fitting sentence than anything the military court could hand out.

But Jeric didn't find out his assignment until after he'd spilled his guts before a few thousand soldiers.  According to him, the whole thing had been Kaysir's idea.  He'd been recruited because he had access to Albin's records.  The money the Terrans offered in exchange for iliri conscripts had been nothing more than a nice little bonus.  When he told his friends about it, they were thrilled to make a little easy cash, and it didn't matter.  They were just scrubbers, after all.

The reaction of the crowd stalled the trial for nearly twenty minutes.  Someone at the back yelled, "But they're our scrubbers!" and Sal knew that things were finally on the right track.

In the end, the verdicts didn't take long.  Kaysir was found guilty of high treason and sentenced to hang at the end of the day.  The soldiers in training who'd attacked Caein fared better.  At the Anglian's request, they were allowed the same deal Jeric had been given.  All of them took it.

But the men and women who'd turned on their countrymen in the middle of the fires weren't given such leniency.  Most hanged for treason.  The ones identified by Sal – who hadn't yet raised their weapons – were given dishonorable discharges.  Each and every one was a known supporter of the True Soldiers and had worked to cause dissent in the military.  When that was announced, Sal was shocked to see that the humans in the crowd looked as happy with the decision as the iliri.

She didn't bother hanging around to join the celebration.  This was the Conglomerate's victory and one that had been a long time coming.  Now, the best thing she could do was step back and let the iliri prove their own worth.  Besides, she had to get her soldiers ready to ride out in the morning.

With her three men at her side, Sal headed over to the stables.  Usur had promised to have horses assigned to each soldier, and she wanted to make sure they weren't culls.  Laibek had given her fifteen members of the 97th, temporarily assigning Kinetry as their field commander.  None of them had spent much time in the saddle.

"Has Tilso looked at the horses?" she asked as they turned into the barn just as someone stepped out of a stall and into her path.

"Oh," he gasped, stepping back.  "Sal?"  It was Odi, the last person she expected to see.

"What are you doing here?"

He gestured behind him at a very leggy bay.  "Getting my horse ready for the morning."

"Wait."  She shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around that.

Odi crossed his arms and leaned back against the front of the stall.  "Lance Corporal Farak Odi, Left Flank Lead for the 43rd Mounted.  I can only guess that if you'd known that, we wouldn't have been chosen."

"No," she told him.  "I mean yes, the 43rd impressed me regardless of who is in the unit."

He nodded, relaxing slightly.  "Look.  I know you and I don't get along.  I even get why.  There's just one thing you need to know.  Bardus was my friend long before he hated iliri.  I personally don't give a shit, but we grew up together.  I was there when he found out an iliri bitch killed his Dad, so I can see why he felt that way.  We applied to the Black Blades together.  I didn't bitch when I took the fall with him back then, but you didn't have to kill him."

"He tried to kill me!" she snapped.

"He wouldn't do that."

Jase tensed.  "He stuck a blade in her lungs whether ya believe it or na.  A poisoned one."

"Ok," Odi said, pinching at the bridge of his nose.  "That was two years ago, I wasn't there, and I'm trying to let it go.  My point is that you're still right about this war.  Anglia's winning, we're not, and something has to change.  I don't give a shit what happened back in the Forward Camp so long as we can make sure it never does again."

"Captain Nashwa did say there were some anti-iliri members," Jase reminded her.

"I know 'em," Odi admitted.  "I think that feeling isn't going to be as strong after what happened a few days ago, but I'll make sure they stay in line."

Sal dragged a hand through her hair, pushing her ears tight against her skull as she thought.  The problem was that she didn't like this man, but did she really have a reason?  He'd helped Ran when she needed it.  He'd proven he was a good soldier now, even if he hadn't been back then.  There was only one thing she couldn't let slide.

"You should probably know that the bitch who killed your friend's dad?  Yeah, she was probably being raped."

"A kid wouldn't really get that distinction now, would he?"

He had a point.  "No, I guess he wouldn't."

"All Bardus knew was that your kind kills ours," he said, but his tone was gentle, like he was begging her to understand.

So Sal replied, "And all mine knows is that yours has spent centuries enslaving us, raping us, telling us we're worthless, and going so far as to sell us off to the enemy for trophies."

"Yeah," Odi agreed.  "Kinda sucks on both sides.  Ever think that maybe if a couple of soldiers from the two ends of the spectrum stopped accusing each other and started fighting the enemy together, that maybe things might change a little?"

There was only one way to answer that.  Holding her hand out before her, she said, "Lance Corporal Odi?  I am proud to have you with us."

He took it, blurred thoughts leaking through with the touch of his skin.  "Kaisae Salryc Luxx, it's an honor to serve.  I hope I can convince you to trust me."

"You just did."

He smiled and stepped back.  "Good.  We move out at dawn, so I'd better get my packs together."  Then he paused.  "Thanks, Sal, for saving my home."

"We'll see how you feel when you liberate mine."

"Victorious," he called over his shoulder.  "Like we're going to win this damned war."

She let out a heavy breath.  "That did not go at all like I expected."

"Nope," Zep agreed, tapping her shoulder as he pointed to the far side of the barn.  "I'm pretty sure that's Ghost."

"Horses seem to be good enough," the pale man replied, proving he'd heard them.  "There's a couple that aren't very pretty, but they're all sound, and Tilso said well-trained.  He's been teaching me how to be his backup."

Sal made her way closer looking into one of the stalls.  "Good. So either of you willing to work with Pig to get these men riding decently on our way to Merriton?"

"We're still going to Merriton?" Ghost asked.

She nodded.  "Terric's still dug in there.  If you thought the extremists here were bad, you have no idea what those merchants will do for money."

"Oh, I do," he assured her, then paused.  "Sal?  Are we stopping on the way?"

"Why?"

He pulled in a breath and Kolt stepped closer, the corner of his lip curling up in a silent warning.  Ghost held him back with a lifted hand.  "Shade smells the same, brother.  I'm just saying that we may want to find the ladies a nice hotel without us around."

"I'm not leaving her," Kolt growled.

Zep pulled him back to Sal's side.  "This is going to get ugly, isn't it?"

"Yeh," Jase told him.  "And ya will na be immune this time."

"Ugh," Sal grumbled.  "Well, there goes that idea."

Ghost chuckled.  "The girls can watch each other's backs.  I'll ask around and see if anyone knows of a nice inn with a separate cottage we can rent."  Then he tilted his head back to the stall.  "And that will give us more time to train Calix's men and the 97th."

"Make sure they can ride a full gallop," Sal told him.  "And have Tilso check the gear?"

"He's already on it," Ghost assured her.  "Between all of us, we should at least get them able to sit the gaits.  Now get out of the barn before your mates get snappy."

Mates.  Sal liked the way that sounded because she knew he meant all three of them.  A glance showed that Kolt had noticed the same thing.  The look on his face was a little too smug.  But Ghost had pointed out another problem.  Not only did all of their plans need to be reworked to get the same result without letting Terric outflank them, it seemed that her breeding cycle was no longer just her business.

"Why didn't you guys say anything?" Sal asked as soon as they were outside.

"Like what?" Zep asked.  "My brother thinks you smell good?"

He had a point, but not a good one.  "How about that your brother might bite anyone that tries to smell me?"

Zep lifted a brow.  "Not my job, babe.  Granted, I am kinda curious to see what's going to happen when we have two iliri bitches fueled by hormones."

"Not funny."

"Little funny," Jase mumbled.

She snapped her head to glare at him.  "No, it's really not."

"Little true," Kolt added, crossing his arms when he got the dirty look next.  "You know you're cute when you're all pissed?"

That's when she gave up.  At least they didn't seem to care if her dava was around.  Between Ran being human and his position in the pack, none of the three worried at all when she was with him.  Then again, he had proven that he was up to defending her so that probably helped.  That the Generals had agreed to her meeting with them in the Blade's strategy room made it even safer for everyone involved.

By the time she made it, Ran and Arctic were already looking over maps.  Albin, Usur, and Laibek would be held up with the remnants of the trial and keeping the peace as the entire base celebrated what they felt was a victory.  In all honesty, Sal preferred it like this.

"Ok, so what do we have?" she asked.

Ran stabbed his finger on the dot that represented Merriton.  "I think this is our answer, kiddo.  According to Ilija, you have a way with the iliri, and I'm pretty sure there's enough of them in that town to make a pretty big scene."

"Slaves," she reminded him.

Arctic lifted his white eyes to hers.  "So were you."

"Wait."  She dropped into the closest chair, letting her mates find their own places to relax around the room.  "Ran, you're saying you want me to liberate the CFC's labor force?"

He smiled.  "The Myrosican treaty made it legal.  The alliance Parliament signed means we can't stop you.  The situation here proved it's effective.  Yes, Sal.  I don't think anyone in Command will be upset if you do exactly what you've been threatening to since you defected.  I can't exactly recommend that plan, but it is a good one."

"Kinda like you couldn't officially recommend the next heir of Anglia?"

He smiled.  "Exactly like that."

She looked at the map again, her eyes now seeing so many more possibilities.  "Good.  Because things are finally starting to change and the Emperor sure won't see this one coming.  None of them will."

Epilogue

THAT NIGHT, the only thing Zep knew for sure was that it had to be late.  Sal was talking to someone, but he couldn't quite hear the words.  The darkness of the void was too thick.  He still recognized the voice, just like he could still feel her arm curled across his waist.  It almost pulled him out of sleep, but the dream was too heavy, as if death was trying to stake its claim on him again.  It kept him trapped, confused.  But that couldn't be her dream.  She didn't dream.

Zep climbed a little farther out of the depths of unconsciousness.  The silence of Jase's mind didn't help but feeling Sal pressed into his chest did.  A little.  The feel of her face against his skin tethered him to reality.  The heat at his back proved that Kolt was where he belonged.  So where was Blaec?

That was the thought that finally woke him completely.  Zep's eyes snapped open, able to see Sal's pale skin even in the darkness.  A deep breath slowed his racing heart and prevented Jase from waking next.  At the edge of the bed, Kolt murmured something and shifted, flopping an arm over Zep's waist to find Sal's hand.

You can do this, sweetness.

Chills ran down his spine.  His lungs forgot to work.  That wasn't Kolt's mental voice.

The trick is not to fight it.  This is one time you'll have to submit, my love, and it's ok.  Nothing is stronger than Ayati.

"Blaec?" he whispered, too scared to even think it.

Trust her...

And then the voice was gone.  Zep sucked back a gulp of air, his body wanting to jump from the bed as the adrenaline hit, but he knew that wouldn't help.  He'd felt the void right before he woke.  Blaec was dead.  But why was he the only one who'd heard that?  It couldn't be his dream if he wasn't sleeping.

Gently, so as not to disturb his partners, he reached up to rub at his face.

"What's wrong?" Kolt whispered against his back.

"How long have you been awake?" Zep countered.

"Mm."  Kolt rolled onto his back, pulling his arm off Zep's side.  Couple of minutes.  You have a bad dream, too?

Real bad one, Zep agreed.

Kolt froze.  For a long moment, he said nothing, making Zep wonder if he'd gone back to sleep.  Just as he was about to give up, Kolt thought, Yeah.  There's whiskey in the other room.  I need some.

Find my pants, bro?  I can't see.

Kolt rolled off the side and, while Zep tried to untangle himself from Sal, found each of them a pair of pants.  Zep's went on the bed.  Kolt's went on his body.  Silently, the newest member of their family slipped from the room, leaving the door open behind him.  Cold moonlight spilled through the opening, making it easier for Zep to follow.

"Need a light?" Kolt asked from the kitchen.

"Nah."  Zep dropped into the closest chair.  "Moon's enough.  My eyes are adjusted.  Make mine a big one?"

"Sure."

The glug of the liquor was the only sound until Kolt placed the glass beside Zep's chair.  He carried his own to the corner of the couch and sat.  Both of them took a healthy drink before they said anything else.  Even then, Kolt refused to break the silence.

Zep decided to get right to the point.  "You dream about Blaec a lot?"

Kolt sighed deeply and took another drink.  "Enough."

"Why?"

"No fucking idea, man.  Started on our run back from that camp.  We stayed in this little town in the Siahies, Unav side of the border, right?  Went to sleep curled up against her and woke up with her mind wrapped around mine and Blaec trying to take over."

"Think it's the real shit?"

Kolt lifted both hands weakly.  "No idea.  Only happens when she's linked in.  Kinda makes me think it's more her than me."

"Yeah," Zep breathed.  "That makes sense.  She'd know what the void feels like."

"Wait."  Kolt sat up.  "That's what the void is really like?"

Slowly, Zep nodded.  "Why hasn't she said anything about this?"

"Pretty sure she doesn't know."  Kolt took another drink, but this one was smaller.  "I asked her once if she wanted to know what he said, and she said no.  From the way she reacted, she doesn't remember it at all."

This time, it was Zep's turn to use alcohol as a reason to delay his words.  "Would you tell me?"

"If you're sure you wanna know."

In the darkness, Zep met Kolt's eyes.  They were as black as the void.  "I wanna know."

Kolt set down his glass and folded his hands in his lap.  "The first time, I could see her there in the void with him, leaning back against his chest.  He looked so happy to be holding her, and they were both looking up at a pin prick of light.  Besides them, it was the only thing around.  Over and over, he told her that this would be ok.  He would wait for her."

"Fuck."  Zep dragged that one word out.

Kolt nodded in agreement.  "Yeah.  And for a long time, he just held her in silence, but eventually, he started telling her about the pattern.  He said that over and over, it all repeats.  We're all caught in it, but he'd finally figured out a way to change it.  He said it was the one thing he could give her to show how much she meant."

"His death?" Zep asked.  "But that's not a gift."

Kolt grunted like he was frustrated.  "That's not how he meant it.  I can't explain it, Zep, but he meant his death caused the gift.  He said that now things could be different because the cycle had finally changed.  It would never be the same again.  She had the chance to make a new one."

Zep pushed his glass to his lips and drank, feeling the burn against the back of his throat.  When he finally stopped, he could still feel the singe as he exhaled and his glass was empty.  That went on the table beside him, but not even whiskey could make his mind slow down.

"She's the strongest Kaisae in history."

"Yep," Kolt agreed.

"And you're dreaming that Blaec is giving her advice?  But he's dead.  That's impossible."

"Is it?  Couldn't her mind be taking over mine?  Could his imprint in the link do it?  Could her memories be jumbling up together to fill in what she needs to hear?  I don't know how it's possible, Zep, but Blaec and I have been getting pretty close lately."

Zep did a double take.  "Has he been talking to you?"

Kolt waffled his hand from side to side.  "It only happens when she's in my mind, and he's been getting less clear.  Like tonight.  Not exactly coherent, right?  More like a memory on repeat.  But that's the thing.  If she can make me dream of a dead man like I was channeling him, what else can she do?  I mean, he seems to be right, so far."

"Yeah?  Are you actually channeling him?" Zep countered.

"I don't know!"

"Kolt, you're a fetcher.  You can touch what you can't reach.  She's a Kaisae.  Is it really impossible that she's reaching through the void to him?"

Again, Kolt said, "I don't know," but this time it wasn't as forceful.  "But for as much as she says she doesn't want to know about these dreams, I'm sure having a lot of them."

"And if they're really him?"

Kolt lifted his hands in a weak surrender.  "I've never heard of an iliri talking to the dead, bro.  That's a human thing.  You people go to graves and speak to stones.  We'd prefer to let our loved ones return..."  He let the sentence fade away.

"What?" Zep pressed.

"Return to the pattern of life," Kolt finally finished.  "To ayati."

Zep had no words to say to that.  Death was final.  He'd felt it himself.  He knew that the void was impenetrable so there was no way Blaec's voice had been real.  It had to be Sal projecting her desire to see him again or something.  Except that she'd finally moved on.  He hadn't felt the bone crushing sorrow in her for days.  She still missed him, but it was healthier now, more normal.  Not the type of thing that would make her fantasize about her dead mate.

Across from him, Kolt was lost in his own thoughts and just as silent.  Only the furrow on his friend's brow proved that he was thinking hard.  Otherwise, he still looked half asleep.

"What?" Zep finally asked.

Kolt's eyes flicked up.  "Sorry, bro."

"For?"

Kolt's lip twitched in a weary smile.  "Trying to listen through the echo."  He huffed a chuckle.  "She still has me linked, and I was trying to follow your, um, line of thinking."

"Ah."

Maybe it was the late hour.  Things were always safer at night.  It could have been the stress of hearing his dead friend's voice in his head again.  Or maybe it was simply that Zep had given up his humanity a long time ago.  Either way, a thought began to form in his mind.  He knew Kolt wasn't going anywhere.  He could feel the truth of that every time Sal looked at him, and Zep thought it was a good thing.  He liked the guy.

But Kolt was still on the outside, and Zep knew what a lonely place that was.  Jase, Sal, and he shared everything.  They tried to include Kolt, but it wasn't the same.  Nothing could compare to the security that came with that bond.  And sure, the iliri assumed cessivi was something only done between lovers, but Zep had also proven that wrong.  His bond with Jase was just as important to him as the one with Sal.  Different, but it was the support he needed when things got hard.

What did Kolt have?  Whispers that he was a traitor?  A few stolen moments with the woman he loved?  Two other men who had the advantage and no one he could turn to when he needed a shoulder?  No family, a new pack, and no close friends to fall back on.  That wasn't fair for a guy who'd already given Sal so much.

There, in the pale moonlight of that room, Zep didn't bother to ask.  He just reached out with his mind, offering it to Kolt.

"When I first became a part of this crazy thing between us, Jase and Sal were already cessivi," Zep said, smiling as Kolt accepted the link without hesitation.  "I spent weeks torn between thinking I didn't deserve the little I had and wishing I could get so lucky, but then my brother explained to me how it was done."

"Cessivi?" Kolt asked.

Zep nodded.  "For them.  They burned the link open.  Every second of every day, they shared everything."  He pointed from his head toward Kolt's.  "Just like this.  If the link slipped, they rebuilt it until it eventually stopped slipping.  Until the pathways couldn't remember how to close.  This thing between you and Sal?  Has nothing to do with me.  But, if you're willing..."

Kolt smiled down at his hands.  "I know you aren't onsyc, so why?"

"Because being the Kaisae's mate isn't always easy to do alone."  Zep sighed and relaxed back into his chair.  "I wouldn't trade my little brother for the world, and I think he's the only thing that keeps me sane some days.  I figure if you're having to go through this thing with Blaec, maybe you'd like a shoulder of your own.  I'm not exactly opposed to another."

Kolt chuckled again, then rubbed at the bridge of his nose.  "This have something to do with me cuddling up to you in my sleep?"

"Nah.  You little shits are warm, so I'm cool with that.  I know you were just reaching for Sal."

"So..."  Kolt paused to take a breath.  "You honestly are offering me this?  As a brother?"

"Partner," Zep told him.  "No more needing to listen to echoes.  No more wondering if I'm weirded out because you hog the fucking blankets.  Just an invitation to, um..."

"Be your cessivi," Kolt finished.  Then he bobbed his head.  "Sure, on one condition?"

"What's that?"

"You tell Jase."

Zep flashed him a grin.  "Deal.  That means you get to tell Sal."

"I can do that," Kolt agreed, pushing himself to his feet.  "Now let's try to get some sleep.  Got a long ride ahead of us in a few hours and a bunch of apes to herd along the way."

Zep groaned, peeling his exhausted body from the chair.  "Don't remind me, bro."

Together, the men staggered their way back to the bedroom and peeled out of their clothes.  While they were gone, Sal had moved to the warm spot they'd left behind, but she was still sound asleep.  Jase, on the other hand, wasn't.  His eyes were closed, his body was calm, but Zep could feel he was listening.  He was also very, very content.

"Let me in," Zep whispered, claiming the spot between Jase and Sal.

Jase grumbled but made no other complaint as Zep pulled back the blankets to slide in next to his girl.  On her other side, Kolt snuggled close, pinning their woman between them.  It didn't take long before all of them were again breathing rhythmically.  Zep smiled, aware that he had one more heartbeat trying to match his and let the tempo lull him.  As sleep began to reclaim him, a single thought touched his mind.

Thank you.

That was all Kolt had to say, but it was enough.  Zep understood.  There were no words to describe the way it felt to be finally included like this.  But he hadn't made Kolt the offer without a very good reason.  Sal couldn't do this on her own.  Hopefully, one more link would help keep her mind from breaking when they got to Merriton.  If nothing else, it would keep her men from splintering themselves as they struggled to keep up.

Because this was going to be her hardest challenge yet.  If anything could destroy the Kaisae of all iliri, it would be her past, and she intended to charge right back into it.  Not even the Emperor had the power to hurt her like the things that had happened in her childhood.  Zep couldn't help but wonder if Makiel had done this on purpose.  He was forcing Sal into the one situation that her mates couldn't fight against.

But, as he felt Kolt's breathing slow, he knew this was a good start.  Alone, they would never stand a chance – but he'd make sure none of his cessivi had to worry about being alone again.

Dear Reader,

I'm just going to start by apologizing for the book hangover.  If you've made it this far in the series, you're obviously addicted to the fate of the Black Blades, and most likely skipped all those important things in your life (like sleeping and talking to other people) for the last day, at least.  Possibly more, if you're one of those who re-read the entire series.

And no, we aren't done yet.  There is still so much more of their journey to experience.  For those who've asked, there are ten books planned in this series.  While you're waiting for the next installment in the war against the Emperor, consider checking out some of my other novels to tide you over.  I've included a teaser after this and a list of my current books – plus, I'm always releasing new ones.

And, if you'd like to talk to me personally, go to the last page for my contact information and links to my social media accounts.  If you haven't already, consider following me on my author page to get automatic updates when the next book comes out.

But what would really make me happy is a review.  It doesn't matter if you loved or hated the book, each one helps.  For an author, it's like a tip, showing us where we managed to succeed and those places we still need to work on.  It also helps new readers find us, which means we get to keep writing (and paying the bills).  Doesn't matter if you leave just a few words or a well thought out review, each one really does help, and I appreciate it more than you know.

To share your opinion about

Dissent, click here.

Glossary

The Iliran language is a constantly evolving one.  The letters p, j, q, and the combinations of th, ch, sh, and ph are not native to the original language but have slowly become used through the association with humans.  Due to the inability of humans to understand pack hierarchy, many new titles have been created to aid in interspecies and international relations.

ahnor:  first mate, also a title for the Kaisae's husband (capitalized when used as a title)

ahvir:  eternally
aitae:  help
akerna:  dam or birthmother, does not imply a relationship nor exclude one
alous:  always
amma:  mother or mom
ankan:  spread
arhha:  north

Arhhawen:  north wind
arn:  and
arzionah:  evening
ast:  are
aufrio:  grey, typically used to describe a color pattern on grauori
aussah:  thank you
auxec:  save
avixa:  tell
ayamae:  help me
ayati:  the nature of things, fate, and used as slang to mean joy/happiness
bax:  earn
berrn:  leave
brerror:  loner or outcast from society
ca:  with
canzara:  distance (away)

cenla:  slate
cessivi:  soulmate, and a title for a partner bonded in such a manner
cinnor:  fourth mate, also a title for the Kaisae's husband (capitalized when used as a title)

corvae:  love
dargo:  dominate
dava:  father
denn:  home
denwar:  blocks
derc:  two
dernor:  second mate, also a title for the Kaisae's husband (capitalized when used as a title)

derza:  right
dregor:  sire or birthfather, does not imply a relationship nor exclude one
dru:  you (plural)

e:  the or to, depending on how used.

ed:  be
edst:  is
einay:  they
gan:  does
gar:  my
garn:  mine
gavwor:  father-in-law, can be used as a title of respect
gehwah:  show
genause:  soul or direction of one's life path
gern:  do
gerus:  those grauori deemed successful enough to contribute to the species and allowed to breed; implies respect
grae:  know
gru:  babies
grunae:  pup
ihrend:  word
il:  you
ilus: derived from the grauori idea of proving one's worth, now used as a title of respect similar to sir or ma'am.

inurga:  wrong
kai:  her
kaisae:  leader (female); one of the four genders of iliri, when capitalized it refers to the chosen female ruler of the species

Kaisor:  leader (male); a title created to show respect to Blaec Doll
kaizen:  leaders or rulers (plural)

kalargi:  brother
kanae:  his
kanna:  name
kano:  he
kauvwae:  grandmother
khemma:  daughter
kierna:  she
koleri:  sister
laetus:  reverence
lannae (lannar):  emotional sex, to make love
liall:  dog
lor:  for
loura:  missed
lursarati:  devil or demon, a personification of evil
lyrva:  revenge
maargra:  grauori soldier, literally means "one who protects"

maast:  bloodlust
maerte:  the meat derived from humans
moxero:  bravery
nacione:  white, often used to describe a color pattern on grauori
nas:  not
nee:  please
nieur:  die
novi:  new
onsa:  same
onsyc:  homosexual or pansexual gender of iliri

Orassae:  grauori queen, literally means "leader of the people"

ortas:  intelligence
raergah:  respect

Raewar:  strength of the pack, recently made into a title for military leadership
rafrezzi:  gold, typically used to describe a color pattern on grauori
rahdreg:  pride
raz:  stop
rocrra:force
rornnae (rornnar):  carnal sex for physical pleasure, to fuck
sadava:  adopted father
sae:  I
sahn:  us
sahna:  we
settivo:  place
sevic:  hunt
sinna:  this
sivex:  friend, not to be confused with acquaintance which has no specific word
suma:  that
sussa:  need
taunor:  third mate, also a title for the Kaisae's husband (capitalized when used as a title)

tola:  all
umso:  submit
unes:  where
va:  am
vaera:  life
van:  will
vargwar:  voice, recently made into a title for an official translator
vau:  have
vau:  was
vaun:  are (plural)

verg:  freeze
viernor:  fifth mate, also a title for the Kaisae's husband (capitalized when used as a title)

wen:  wind
wohanna:  honor
wona:  true
xie:  ridge
za:  of

za:  what
zan na:  slang equivalent to "of course"

zar:  in

When We Were Kings

Auryn Hadley

Chapter 1

HER HEART POUNDED hard enough to echo off the stone walls around the arena.  Above, the crowd jeered, ready to see blood.  Leyli took a breath, the sound loud in her ears as her eyes moved to the pile of swords in the center.  The rules were clear: kill or be killed.

Time crawled.  Acid burned at the back of her throat.  Her chest felt like it would explode from the stress of her beating heart.  Clenching her sweaty palms did little to stop the trembling in her fingers.  She had to wake up soon.  This had to be a bad dream.  She couldn't die like this!

Four men stood in the arena with her.  They were scared.  Tossed onto the sands of the gladiatorial arena whether they liked it or not, they all waited for the call.  None of them were fighters.  The only thing they had in common was that their lives mattered little to the rest of the world.  Their new job was to quench the bloodthirst of the masses.  They would either die or live to try again.  If they survived long enough, they might earn their freedom.  If not, their lives would be spent to keep the populace amused.

Above, the crowd was thrilled with the idea.  She was terrified.  Leyli had watched her brother practice the sword, but he'd always been covered in padding to prevent injury.  In her entire life, she'd never seen true violence.  For twenty-two years, she'd been sheltered behind rich fabrics and gilded doors, but she could do this.  Her family were fighters.  Her brother's weapons trainer had a voice that carried, so she'd heard enough.  Don't hesitate.  Strike the vitals.  Stay out of reach unless you're sure you can make the kill.  Do not tempt fate.  Relax.

The air slid from her lungs, and she forced tense muscle to soften just as the gong sounded.  The men rushed forward.  Sandals dug into hot sands, and they screamed, hoping to terrify their opponents.  Panicked, Leyli bolted for the side.  Let them kill each other.  There was only one person in the arena she stood a chance against while he was still fresh: the old man to her right.

His eyes were trying to watch the other fighters as she hit him hard from the side.  The pair of them crashed into the sand, and he swung, missing her by a mile.  Clenching her hands together, she brought them down on his face, screaming out her rage.  Bone snapped and blood rushed from his nose as he struggled, but she was in the better position.  Fear gave her strength even as he hit back.  She just had to hit harder.  She just had to keep hitting until he stopped, but she couldn't forget the others.  They were armed - and she only had this one chance.

Over and over, she pummeled the grandfather until he stopped moving, then she ran.  The diaphanous pink gauze of her night dress tangled around her legs, but she refused to slow.  The last three men were too busy to notice her, and a trident lay within reach.  Her lungs burned, her eyes squinted against the glare on the sand, and her chest hurt from the hammering she'd just taken, but she would survive.  She was the King's daughter.  She was stronger than all of this.  The Domn of Lanmont would not dispose of her so easily, nor with his hands so clean.

The trident's handle was rough against her palms, tiny grains of sand biting into her flesh.  The pronged end was heavy, but Leyli didn't slow.  Rushing forward, she rammed it into the back of a man paralyzed with fear, his eyes locked on the pair dueling for their lives.  With a strangled cry, he collapsed, the weight of his corpse wrenching the weapon from her hands.  Desperate, she grabbed his fallen sword.  Victory lay in surprise.  No one thought the delicate girl in the soft pink dress would be a threat.  None of them had prepared for this, and there were only two left.  She couldn't give up now.

The men fought.  The one on the right swung, his blade slicing deep into the other man's arm.  The one on the left stabbed, piercing the first's chest.  Heaving the sword over her head as she ran, time slowed.  Leyli's eyes were locked on the thick muscle across the closest man's shoulder, the rhythm of his pulse throbbing in his neck just above it.  With all her might, she buried the blade deep, feeling the bone beneath, but this time she didn't let go.

She screamed like a wild animal and pulled, wrenching it out of the body while flinching away from a blow that never came.  The first man was already dead.  In the sand around her lay four corpses.  Blood stained what had once been her nightdress.  Above the stone walls, people stood, their fists reaching for the sky, their mouths open with cheers.  The only thing Leyli could hear was her own heart, still beating as the reality of what she'd done tried to catch up.

She'd killed three men.  By her own hand, she'd taken the lives of real people.  The sword fell from limp fingers and her knees turned to water, but she refused to crumple.  Instead, she took a breath.  It was so loud in her ears.

"Move, bitch!" a guard yelled, holding a spear in her direction.

Slowly, the words pushed through the terror drowning out her mind.  Leyli looked at him, then at the solid walls.  The guard pointed at a small, black opening, then gestured again with the spear.  His mouth moved, but her ears heard only cheers, her mind unable to keep up.  They were celebrating the death of innocent men.  Men whose crimes hadn't been worth the price of their life.

"Start walking or I'll put this spear into your guts and let you die slowly."  He gestured a third and final time as the crowd began to calm.

She stepped back.  The sand burned her feet through the thin leather soles.  Her throat was so tight she couldn't catch her breath.  Her heart ached from working so hard, and a pain burned in her side.  All she wanted was to lie down, but Leyli walked.

At the gate, two men grabbed her, shoving her into the shadowy hall.  Sand gave way to stone, their steps rebounding from the ceiling.  Scared and confused, she stumbled forward.  The guards weren't cruel, but they weren't forgiving.  They just hauled her toward an open cell, metal bars making up the front wall, then pushed her through the door.  She hit the dirt and stayed, too shocked to even try to stand back up.

From the cell beside her came a voice.  "There's a chamber pot in the corner.  When you retch, try to hit that.  You'll be glad you did later, and I won't have to smell it."

She looked, trying to adjust to the darkness after the glare of the arena.  Just as her stomach rebelled, her eyes found it.  Lurching forward, she made it – barely.  Her long brown hair spilled around her face, but Leyli didn't care.  She just heaved out everything she could, but nothing would purge the memories of those dead faces.

When her stomach finally gave up, she leaned back and sighed.  For a moment, she didn't move, but once she knew her intestines would stay still, she scooted back to lean against the wall.  Even climbing onto the feeble bed seemed like too much work.

"You going to cry?" the man beside her asked.

She huffed a wry laugh.  "Not yet."

His chuckle was warmer, almost sympathetic.  "Good.  Save it for tonight.  You'll go out three more times today.  Unless you die.  Keep your muscles loose and your mind clear."

"Done this before?"

He paused before answering.  "Once or twice.  Get rid of the skirt.  Shame won't kill you, but getting tangled might."

Leyli leaned her head back against the cool stone wall.  "Why are you helping me?"

"Because someone helped me on my first day.  I also won't fight against you today, so I don't care if you live or die."  He sighed as the guards moved toward his cell.  "You get to rest for this fight and one more, then you're up again.  Use your time wisely.  I suggest praying."

The men escorting the gladiators were all well armed and muscled.  They looked like soldiers, but not the common type.  Four of them converged on the cell beside her, and Leyli heard the command.  "You're up.  Let's go."

Her neighbor chuckled like it was some kind of joke.  "What's the game?"

"King of the Hill.  Theodian, Bernadino, and Tore all have their champions in against you."

The cell clanked open and the guards encircled the man.  Leyli looked as he passed her chamber, striding forward like he owned the place.  Broad and tanned, his right arm was covered in metal scales from shoulder to elbow.  Leather straps held the armor on.  A small patch rested over his heart for minimal protection.  Ornate vambraces were buckled over his forearms.  Matching greaves covered his shins, but his clothing was little more than a Rhian style leather-strip skirt held on by a wide belt.  Silky brown hair was pulled away from his face, falling to his shoulders.  He was gorgeous, the kind of man that women dreamed of and giggled over.  He also looked like a true gladiator.

He turned and their eyes met.  His were hazel, almost green, and so calm.  She'd seen that look in her father's eyes when he made a decision he hated.  Resigned.  The gladiator looked at her like he didn't expect to see her again.  She wasn't sure if it was his death he was preparing for, or hers.

"Fight well," she said softly.

He ducked his head in acknowledgment but didn't bother to reply.  Evidently, he'd given her all the kindness he had left.

That's when she realized his advice actually meant something.  For a man to live long enough to earn his armor in the games meant he fought well.  Leyli pulled herself to her feet and stretched before her muscles could freeze up.  Next, she had to do something about her dress.  She'd been raised to be proper, not foolish.  Right now, her virtue came in second place to her life, but without any tools, all she could do was tear the fabric.  Thankfully, it wasn't a durable material.

She tried, but couldn't quite rip off the length of it.  When one of the guards walked past, she dared to call out.  "Pardon me?  I'm assuming I'm not allowed a weapon, but can you tear this?"  She held the cloth through the bars.

The man's eyes ran across her body, but he stepped closer.  "Gonna show off those legs, honey?"

Shame hit her at his suggestion, but she wouldn't let him know.  Jigging her head in a nervous nod, she agreed before he said something worse.  "Yes, sir.  If you'll help me get rid of the extra."

He grinned and pulled a dagger, cutting a notch in the weave.  "That should help.  Might be a bit short."

"Won't matter if I'm dead."  She smiled, trying to convince herself it was true.  Then she realized he could have information.  "Oh!  Do you know who the man is in the cell beside me?"

He cocked his head slightly.  "The Lion?"  He gestured to the open door.  "He's out there right now.  That's the Lion of Lenlochlien.  One hundred and ninety-seven victories.  Don't worry, they won't put you against him today."

"Thank you, sir."

His eyes roamed down her body.  "Rip that skirt high enough, and I might slip you a dagger at the gate."

She blushed but held in the shocked gasp that tried to burst out.  Leyli had been taught to be demure and respectable.  She'd never even kissed a man that wasn't her father!  The only people who saw her bare legs were her maids, but she wasn't stupid.  This wasn't the same world where she'd grown up.  Here, she had to use every advantage she could get, no matter how shameful it was… or give up and die.

That wasn't something she was willing to do.  Like the Lion said, shame wouldn't kill her.  She also wouldn't care about it if she was dead, and if she lived through this, she'd learn to get over it.  A dagger in her hand was simply an advantage she couldn't pass up, and she was strong enough to ignore the jeers and comments.  They wouldn't cut half as deep as a sword.

Tearing at the fabric of her dress left only a finger's length under her buttocks.  She had tunics that covered more.  While she was pulling off the decorative sleeve caps, the crowd erupted in cheers.  A minute later, feet rang out on the stone ramp.  When Leyli looked up, she wasn't surprised to see the Lion.  What shocked her was the gore across his body.

His eyes found hers, then swept over her legs.  The corner of his lip shifted.  It certainly wasn't a smile, but she figured that was as close as she was going to get.  Then he moved to the front of her cell.

"Turn, I'll pull the other.  Tie your hair up to keep it from your eyes."  She obeyed, shocked that his guards didn't try to stop him.  The Lion lowered his voice.  "Take the weakest.  Leave the stronger to wear themselves out.  The excess cloth?  It's a noose.  Never give up anything you can get your hands on.  Anything can be an advantage."

She licked her lips, trying to remember all of that.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome.  Are you scared?"

"Terrified."

Finally, he smiled.  "Good.  Use it."

He tugged the last of the chiffon from her arm and tucked it into one of the bracers he wore.  She glanced up and their eyes met.  No words were needed; his expression said it all.  Rage simmered, but it wasn't alone.  Fear lurked as well, proving that death wasn't something a person got used to.  The Lion blinked – and turned for his cage.

"All right, girl.  You're next."

She grabbed the scrap cloth and wound it around her arm.  Anything could be a weapon.  Any advantage was one she'd use.  She just had to keep surviving.  If she could make it long enough, maybe her father would find her.  Maybe the Domn had already been caught.  Maybe someone was on their way.  She just had to keep fighting and keep winning.  She might be a princess, but her family had fought hard for the right to rule.  She could do the same.

"Just like before?" she asked.

The guard chuckled.  "Yeah, 'cept this time you're going against the shits who didn't lose last time."

"Then they won't be so lucky this time," she swore, trying to convince herself it was true.

As she walked toward the bright opening to the arena, she heard the Lion talking to the guard behind her.  "I think that one might be a real bitch."

"She won't live to see the sun fall."

The Lion's laugh disagreed.  "I wouldn't bet against her.  She has the eyes.  You can always see it in the eyes.  That one's a survivor."

Chapter 2

THE GUARD AT THE GATE brushed her ass, sliding his hand high over her rump.  Leyli flinched at the contact, but when cold metal pressed into her back, she realized he'd just kept his promise.  Glancing back at him, she forced herself to wink playfully.  The man tipped his head in response.  She had a length of cloth and a dagger.  It was more than any of her opponents should have, but she could only hope.

When the gate opened, she stepped out, twisting her hair into a cable that she looped onto itself.  With it knotted out of her face, she was as ready as she could get.  Walking forward, she waited for her eyes to completely adjust to the bright light.

More weapons waited in the middle.  This time, the men she'd fight looked like killers.  Big and burly or lean and lithe, they had the advantage.  That meant she had to be smarter because she couldn't be stronger.

To her left stood a massive man with a bald head.  He was older, but not old.  To her right was a wiry young man who looked like he didn't mind killing.  Across from her was a farmhand and what looked like a retired soldier.  The guy to her right and the soldier were the biggest threats.  That meant she had to take out the behemoth or risk running across the group for the farmhand.

They were all stained with blood, even if their clothes were common.  She watched the men eye her, just like she'd been doing to them.  She was the weakest fighter on the field, and she knew it.  She was also the smartest.  Forcing her body to relax enough to keep breathing, Leyli tried to look innocent and naive.  Wide eyes – which wasn't hard to fake – and darting glances were enough to convince them she was harmless.

Unfortunately, the monster beside her looked like he planned to take her out first.  Which worked out, because she had plans for him.  As soon as the gong sounded, she pulled the cloth from her arm and rushed him.  It wasn't hard to wrap it around his neck.  In fact, it was shockingly easy.  The man hadn't expected that.  He'd almost shoved his own neck right into it.  Then she twisted.

He pawed at the noose, trying to break free as she pulled the dagger from her undergarments.  Leyli had no idea where the heart would be from the back, but she knew one thing.  Punching as hard as she could, she hacked at his spine.  The metal cut deep, his legs gave up, and the man screamed.

She dared to look at the others before shoving the dagger into his neck like a priest with the sacrificial bull.  Blood soaked the cloth, but she remembered the Lion's words.  Keep every advantage.  As it stood now, she didn't need to risk the pile of weapons.  She had all she could use.

The lean man who'd been on her left killed the farmhand.  The soldier had taken the opportunity to arm himself and stood waiting.  Leyli scurried out of sight.  If the wiry bastard thought she was easier, he'd come after her, leaving the advantage to the soldier.  Instead, she needed to move around the edge.  If she could catch the soldier, she could distract him with the scarf long enough to...

From the corner of her eye, she saw movement.  The lean man rushed at her back.  With a terrified scream, Leyli turned – right into his fist.  Pain slammed across her cheek and eye, but she shoved her dagger forward.  The first swipe was a weak cut.  The man hit her again, so she stabbed harder.  This time, she felt skin part.  Before he could hit her a third time, with her ears ringing, Leyli ran.

The soldier pounced on the wounded man, finishing him off.  Desperate, she headed toward the cache of weapons, hoping for something she could use.  They were piled on the only decoration in the place.  A waist-high stone hill – probably what the Lion had defended in his own fight – offered little in the way of concealment, but it was an obstacle.  It was something to put between her and the man who wanted to kill her.

She ran around it and spun to face her enemy.  "Don't hurt me!"

He looked at her and sneered.  "That's what they all say.  I'm not losing, bitch."

Then he charged.  Rushing to the right, he tried to catch her, but Leyli was quick.  She ran, ducking low enough that he couldn't easily see her.  With her heart thudding hard, she tried to listen for his steps.  If she looked up, she'd give away her advantage.  Unfortunately, he was probably used to the fear of combat.  There was only one way she could beat him.

Spinning in place, she rushed in the opposite direction.  The soldier saw her, his step faltering, and she slammed her entire body into his side before he could get his weapon up.  Screaming in panic, she shoved, knocking him away.  His temple hit the stone.  His chest hit the sand.  The grunt that came out sounded stunned, so she pushed him into it again from behind.  This time, he fought back, but fear gave her strength.

Like a mad woman, she forced his face into the rock over and over, her hands tangled in his short hair, but he battered at her with hard punches.  Each one hurt, but he couldn't get a good grip behind him.  She couldn't stop.  Tears were leaking from her eyes and a primal cry was stuck in her throat even as she felt him go limp.  Then her legs buckled.

Kneeling beside his body in the sand, tears ran down her face, and her hands shook.  She barely caught her breath before the guard showed up, his spear pointed at her just like the first time.  Leyli looked at him and nodded, closing her eyes before she pushed herself back to her feet.  Trembling all over, she grabbed her dagger, tucked it into the waistband of her underthings, then headed back to the dark gate.

The guards took her arms.  The one on her left grabbed the dagger from her waist, his hand going up the remnants of her dress without shame.  Leyli made no move to stop him.  She knew better.  When they pushed her into the cell this time, she didn't collapse.

"Two more rounds," the Lion said softly.

She groaned and dropped onto the tiny bed.  Her fingers trembled.  "How many for you?"

"Just one more, today.  Eat this."  His hand reached toward her cell, the bars preventing him from truly making it.  In it was a golden-brown roll.

Her stomach despised the idea.  "No thanks."

"Eat it.  If you're running on fumes, you're at a disadvantage.  Puke it if you have to, but at least try.  It's just bread."

Nodding her head, even though he couldn't see it, she leaned over for the roll.  "Why do you get all the goodies?  Nice armor, by the way."

"I earned it.  Kill enough people and you'll get it, too."

She pulled off a piece of bread and looked at it.  "Yeah.  What are my other options?"

Silence hung in the alley before he answered.  "Die."

Leyli forced the bread into her mouth and chewed.  It tasted like raw cotton.  "How do you do this?"

"How did you?  Eight men, little girl.  That's what it took for you to live this long."

"Can we not talk about that until I get this in my stomach?"

This time, his laugh was warm and loud.  "Ok.  Sure.  You know how much you owed?"

"Owed?"  She couldn't follow the change in subject.

"Yeah.  You're in with the debtors.  Means someone traded you for money to pay off what they owed.  If it wasn't you, then had to be your father or husband."

"No husband.  I think it was my cousin."  She wasn't about to tell this stranger what kind of life she used to lead.  His help would probably dry up.

The Lion grumbled.  "Then no, you have no clue.  You'll find out tomorrow.  Each fight pays off your debt.  You can either earn your way out or live through two hundred and fifty fights.  Whichever comes first."

"Guard said you have almost two hundred."

"Yep.  Just finished one ninety-eight.  Next is ninety-nine.  Tomorrow is my big two hundred.  Then I get two weeks of training."

"Nice.  I've got two.  Guess I'll be here a while."

She heard a thump as he leaned against the wall to match her.  "Three years.  Probably take me almost another to finish.  If I live that long."

"Any more tips?"

He sighed.  "Don't die.  They'll come after you first from now on.  Just keep moving.  If they can't catch you, they can't kill you."

"Right," she said softly.  "Just don't die, because that's so easy."

Somehow she managed to finish her roll and suck back some water.  The biggest miracle was that it stayed down.  All too soon, they came for her again.  The guard slipped the dagger back into her clothes while she waited to go out, so at least she hadn't lost her advantage.

The third round was worse than the previous two.  The Lion was right.  They came for her first.  Running as fast as she could, she evaded them long enough for two of the men to kill the others.  Then they both turned on her.  Tossing her blood-stained skirt at one, she somehow managed to cut the second's arm deep enough that the first attacked him.

Then it was just the two of them left.  Leyli knew she looked terrified.  She was!  Thankfully, it seemed to bother the man enough that she was able to get inside his guard and plunge her tiny dagger into his ribs.  Pushing as hard as she could, she felt the pop.  When the blood pooled in his mouth, she knew she'd hit something vital.

It took a few more stabs before he stopped struggling, but each one made him slower.  When he finally collapsed, she felt like she'd been hit by a bull.  This time, the guard didn't point the spear when he came to escort her back.  Instead, he grabbed her elbow to steady her.  Leyli counted it a small victory, trying to ignore what it had taken to get it.

Her feet hit stone and a hand grabbed her shoulder.  Exhausted, she turned, expecting a guard.  What she saw was a line of metal scales leading up to hazel eyes.  The Lion was massive!  Looking up at him from the ground, she hadn't realized it, but standing face to face, she felt like a mouse about to be swallowed.  There was no doubt he was a killer, but his hand was gentle on her arm.  Then he ducked his head.

"Well fought.  Give Tinas back his dagger.  They won't let you take it to the cell."

Behind her, the guard chuckled.  "I prefer to take it."  Then he demonstrated.

The Lion's eyes narrowed but never left Leyli's.  "I think they should call you the Wolf, because you're one hell of a bitch.  Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir.  Good luck."

He shook his head.  "Never wish your enemy luck.  Tomorrow, I may be the man that kills you.  Besides, he's a fickle god."

Then he turned and walked onto the sands.  Around the arena, the fans screamed with enthusiasm.  She let out her breath in a rush, but the guards made no move to hurry her back to her cell.  Taking the opportunity, she turned to watch.

The Lion walked to the hummock in the center and waited.  Around him, staff were clearing away the bodies of Leyli's victims.  Others were bringing in props.  The fans didn't care.  They were too busy calling out cheers for their favorite gladiator, and he was doing everything to encourage them.

Tinas gestured to the side.  "There's another door over there.  That's where they'll send in the criminals."

"Criminals?"  She turned to look at the guard who'd been kindest to her.

He nodded.  "Yep, it's how the local towns kill off those too dangerous to keep alive, and the crowd loves it.  Eye for an eye, and all that.  They send them in unarmed, and he gets to kill them all."

Leyli looked back at the man standing in the center of the arena.  "Ever think it may not be a privilege?"

"No, and you shouldn't either.  It's an easy win for him.  One more step toward getting out of that cell he calls home."  He put his hand on her shoulder and turned to the hall.  "C'mon, let's get you some water before you're up again.  Odds are still running against you."

She let him lead her back.  "Tinas, what happens if I win?"

"Then tonight you sleep and tomorrow you do it all again, but the team owners will be shopping.  If you're lucky, someone will buy your debt who's willing to train you.  If you're not, you're thrown against the real gladiators until you die."

"Any advice?"

The guard smiled kindly but shook his head.  "No, little Wolf.  Being a woman helps.  Not many ladies able to live past the first round, and a lot of fans will pay to see one.  I'll see what I can hear about your opponents for the next round.  Good luck."

Her world had just turned upside down.  She took a deep breath and tried to embrace it before telling the guard, "Thanks, I'm sure I'll need it."

Chapter 3

FOR AN HOUR, she got to relax and catch her breath, but Leyli wasn't stupid.  She paced slowly around her cell, keeping her arms moving.  In her pampered life, she'd never worked her muscles like this, and if she got stiff, it made it easier to kill her.  Beside her, the Lion said nothing.

Eventually, Tinas came back to collect her.  While they walked to the entrance, he tried to give her as much information as he could.  "Four men.  A hunter, a guard, a butcher, and a boxer.  Stay away from the boxer.  He can take a beating, and I'm not sure you could get close enough to stab him."

She nodded slowly.  "And what are they calling me?"

He flashed her a toothy grin.  "The Lady."  At the entrance to the sand, he held out the dagger.  "Good luck."

"Would you do me a favor?"

"If I can."

She took a deep breath, feeling the panic start to rise.  "If I die, can you tell the Lion thank you?  The two of you made my last day a bit better."

"Don't quit now," Tinas said softly.  "No one thought the Lion would win either, but look at him.  You can do this, little Wolf."

Then it was time.  She walked onto the sands, watching the men enter from their own corners.  Pausing well back from the collection of weapons, she finally took the chance to actually look around.  There was no need to see her competition.  She knew what they were – bigger, stronger, and meaner than her.  She wanted to at least see her new world.

The walls around the fighting pit were twice as tall as a man.  Above that were seats.  They were all filled.  Commoners in rough cotton and wool leaned over the edge, screaming at the fighters.  At each end were groups in finer clothing.  Above it all, the sky was turning orange as the sun fell toward the edge.  Never in a million years would she have expected to be here.

She was supposed to be a queen.  At worst, a domna.  Her sole purpose in life was to make an expedient marriage and strengthen the nation of Norihame.  Until last night, she'd never even left the city of Oberhame.  She'd barely stepped outside the palace grounds!  Now, she stood in some village sporting arena, fighting for not only her life but the security of her father's lands.

The thought hit her like a fist to the gut.  She had to survive this.  Her father and brother might be dead.  It was possible that she was the last of the Aravatti line.  She had to survive long enough for someone to save her.  That meant she had to save herself.  She was the daughter of a warrior.  She might be a princess, but that didn't mean she had to be weak.  The Aravatti had strength in their spines and had never been ashamed of using it.

Leyli took a breath and let her eyes close for a moment.  She would do this.  She would not die today, and when she got free, she'd make it up to the families of the men she'd killed.  The gods had put her in this hell for a reason, but they never gave people a task too strong to bear.  The guard called her a wolf.  Little did he know it was the beast that adorned her family crest.

She would become the Wolf.

This time, when the gong sounded, Leyli waited.  The butcher rushed the boxer.  The hunter turned to stalk her, but the guard was after him.  She paced the edge, the tiny dagger heavy in her fist, heading toward the men on the far side.

The screams of the crowd drowned out the cries of the men on the sand.  Over and over, the boxer pummeled the poor butcher, but he fought back.  Fists flew between them until the boxer got the advantage.  Dropping his weight on the other man, he slammed his hands into the butcher's skull.  Blood poured from both his knuckles and the other man's nose.  The sound of flesh on flesh was disgusting.  That's when she surged forward.

He never saw her coming.  With her teeth pulled back in a snarl, Leyli plunged the dagger into the boxer's neck, yanking it out quickly.  Next, she hit him along the spine, hoping to at least incapacitate him.  As he crumpled, she attacked the weakened butcher, hacking savagely at his exposed throat.  The man barely had the sense to clutch at the wound before she was moving again.

The hunter stood across the sand from her, the guard dead at his feet.  As the sky darkened, they stared at each other, both looking for an advantage.  She shifted her hand on the dagger, securing her grip as she unraveled the cloth from her arm.  He carried a sword.  In the center were more weapons, but they offered her nothing.  The only things Leyli knew how to do were evade and surprise, but those options were gone.

That meant she needed to make new ones.

She was a wolf.  She was an opportunistic bitch, and the man before her thought she was a timid little lady.  While her heart thrummed, the fear fled to the back of her mind, settling in like an old friend.  She could do this.  She would do this.  She just had to be something he didn't expect.

With a roar, she rushed toward him.  The hunter braced, lifting the sword, ready to strike.  Above them, the crowd cheered, thrilled to see the suffering of others – and Leyli hated them for it.  She hated all of them.  This was not something to laugh about.  This was life and death, and only the gods should have the power to ruin lives.

At the last minute, the hunter pulled back to swing.  She hit the ground, tossing the scarf out toward him.  Weighed down with the blood of a past kill, it caught his legs, just heavy enough for the hunter to notice.  When he dared to glance down, she took the chance.  She knew how meat was prepared for the kitchen.  That's all this was.  A hard swipe at the back of his knee cut deep.  She saw the panic flare across the man's face as the joint crumpled.  Before his leg hit the ground, she cut again, this time at his arm.

If he couldn't run and couldn't swing a sword, he couldn't win.  Leyli focused on that – and kept hacking.  The man struck back.  His foot kicked at her leg.  His good elbow crashed into her nose, followed by the hilt of the sword, but she wouldn't stop now.  She couldn't.  The pain was far away, only her fear controlling her.  She had to win.  She had to kill this man before he killed her.  She had to make the Domn pay and protect the nation.  This fight was about so much more than a pathetic girl in a tattered pink dress.

It was about winning.  Leyli had to learn how, and as she shoved the dagger into the man's chest, she knew she'd done just that.  She was a wolf, and she wouldn't be stopped.  The roar burst from her lips as she stabbed the man again and again until he went limp.

She didn't wait for the guard.  Taking a deep breath, she stood and marched back to her den, refusing to think about her battered and bloody body.  The crowd screamed.  People threw things into the arena for her, but Leyli ignored it all.  She was still alive.  She could do this.  Blood trickled down her face, but it was one more annoyance in a world that wanted to see her dead.  She wouldn't give in.  With her chin held high, the Wolf wanted only the security of darkness.

Tinas met her at the gate and she handed him the dagger.  He passed her a cloth in exchange.  "Your nose is bleeding.  It might be broken."

"It'll heal."  She kept walking.  By now, she knew the way.

Beside her, Tinas just chuckled softly, waiting until she was inside her cell before locking the door.  His eyes caught hers, and he nodded, then stepped aside.  Finally, she was alone.  Leyli dropped onto the bunk and sighed.  Sixteen men.  She was responsible for the deaths of sixteen men, and her lungs didn't want to breathe.

From the cell beside her, she heard, "Who won?"  It was the Lion.

Tinas chuckled, a clank sounding like he leaned against the bars.  "She found it.  Took a beating, but she walked out on her own feet."

The Lion sighed loudly.  "Send my wine to her tonight?  She'll need sleep if she wants to live through tomorrow."

"You know what they're planning?"

"Yeah."  The Lion's voice was nearly a growl.  "The team owners want to thin out the field of recruits.  They'll try to kill off as many as possible tomorrow, then fight to buy the best."

"So you want to buy her wine the night before you kill her?"  Tinas sounded shocked.

The Lion said nothing for a moment.  "No.  I want to make sure she has a chance.  If the gods are kind, I won't stand against her.  If they're cruel, I'll kill her quickly."

"Yeah."  Tinas sighed.  "Sleep well."

"Not gonna happen.  Marino's making money tonight."  The Lion grumbled under his breath.  "Guess they should've named me the Stallion."

"Nah.  Your roar is too loud."

The men laughed, then steps receded down the hall.  While Leyli tried to relax, the arena grew quiet.  Voices that had been cries earlier were now just murmurs, and the halls echoed with empty cells.  Above her, the sound of feet was loud as the crowd departed for the night.  Alone in her bunk, her mind finally had the chance to work, and the thoughts in her head weren't kind.

She remembered their faces.  The men she'd killed all looked the same at the last moment.  Brown eyes, blue ones, or green, they all were scared.  They were so scared, and she'd been the monster they feared.  She, the proper young lady who knew how to sew and direct the palace staff.  She, the princess who could identify any nobleman's banner.  She'd killed them all.  She'd ruined their families.  She'd shattered bones and rent flesh.  She'd become everything she despised in the world.

Her stomach clenched and she launched herself to the corner.  Once again, her face hung over the chamber pot as she purged her body of what she could.  Unfortunately, the memories stayed.  When her stomach was empty, her body tried to keep going.  Raw, wrenching gags rang out against the stone, broken by gasping coughs, but she had to retch.  She had to do something, and this was the only option she had left.

"Don't fight it," the Lion whispered.  "Get it out while you can.  Drink more so you can hurl more, and just let it happen."

Leaning back, she reached for the jug of water and drank straight from it.  Stale and dirty, the taste elicited another round.  Then she drank again.  This time it stayed for nearly a minute before coming back up.  Over and over she repeated the process until her body stopped trying.  That's when the tears started.

Leyli refused to howl like a woman.  With her jaw clenched against the anguish, she just let the tears fall.  Her hands shook and her nose ran.  Eventually, she had to sniff.  Pain shot through her face and she gasped.  From there, the sorrow took control.  The life she knew was over!  Pulling her knees to her chest, she buried her face in them to muffle the sound, struggling to breathe around her mess of a nose.

"Hey."  The voice was gentle, but she couldn't look up.  "Little Wolf, I brought some wine."  It was Tinas.

She nodded but refused to show her face.  "Thank you," she blubbered.

"It's ok, honey."

From beside her, the Lion disagreed.  "It's not.  Leave her alone."

"Yeah."  Tinas sighed.  "Dinner's coming soon enough.  If she drinks all the wine first, she may not stay conscious long enough to eat."

"She will," the Lion said.  "She'll do what she needs to survive.  Stop worrying about her.  She's a fighter."

"No, I'm not," Leyli muttered.

"Yes," the Lion assured her, "you are.  You've already proven it.  Your father would be proud."

She sucked in a breath and looked at the hall.  "You know my dad?"

He chuckled.  "No, but I know men.  Having a daughter as strong as you would make any father proud, alive or dead."

Or dead.  The words cut deep.  She didn't even know if her family was still alive.  She didn't know who sat on the throne.  "Does anyone follow politics?"

"No," both men said, but Tinas sounded confused.

Leyli just nodded before shifting closer to grab the wine.  "Then I guess it doesn't matter.  What town is this?"

"Valview."  Tinas squatted down to look at her.  "You didn't know?"

"No.  Last night I fell asleep in Oberhame.  This morning, I woke up here."

"The Wolf of Oberhame," the Lion said.  "Now that is a good name."

"I'll tell the announcer."  Reaching through the bars, Tinas rubbed the edge of her arm before leaving her to suffer through the long night alone.

Chapter 4

THE WINE HELPED.  The food helped more.  Leyli was nearly asleep when a glow in the hall woke her.  Glancing over her head at the bars, she saw three guards escorting a cloaked woman.  Maybe she was the wife of a team owner?  Leyli didn't know so closed her eyes again.

The lock to the Lion's cell clicked loudly.  "We'll be down the hall if you need us, ma'am."

The woman giggled, but it wasn't a sound that suited her.  "No, I'm sure I won't need you."

The door creaked as it opened and banged when it closed.  No one spoke for a long time, not until the light was long gone.  Then Leyli heard her neighbor's voice.  He sounded bored.

"You paid my owner for an hour of my time.  You've paid me nothing for the lack of sleep."

The woman's voice was thick.  "Make me happy and the necklace around my throat is yours."

"That'll do."

Her response was a feminine gasp.  What came after that was hard to block out: the sound of cloth, flesh sliding against flesh, and too much heavy breathing.  Leyli felt her face growing warm.  She didn't mean to listen, but it wasn't like she had a choice.  Instead, she shoved her pillow over her ears, but that only helped so much.  The grunts and moans still leaked through.

The woman had paid for an hour, and the Lion gave her every second of it.  When her moans became screams, flashes of dead men's faces danced behind Leyli's eyes.  When the Lion groaned in completion, she remembered the last gasp of her opponents.  When the guards returned to collect the woman, Leyli ignored it all, fighting back another round of tears.  She was a slave, fallen from the highest place possible to the lowest.  Not only was she intended to kill for amusement, but they'd also sell her body, and nothing she could do would stop it.

She tried to sleep, but couldn't.  What difference did it make?  She'd never come back from this.  Her whole life was ruined.  She was ruined.  Her value to the country had vanished the moment her cousin abducted her.  Why was she even trying?  At best, she'd be married off to some widower who could spend her money and ignore her.  At worst?  They knew she was here and hadn't come for her because she was now worthless.

Minutes ticked past.  Down here, below the arena, the warriors took what reprieve they could.  Snores echoed and water dripped in the distance, but the silence only made it easier to hear her sobs.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," the Lion whispered.

"I don't care."

He paused for a moment, and she heard his bunk creak.  "You have to care.  You have to keep fighting."

"Why?  So they can sell us like whores?"

"Yes.  It doesn't matter what they do to you, so long as you keep living.  Bend, break, but don't ever give up.  Then one day, you win and walk out of here a free woman with your life in your control."

"You don't understand."

He chuckled.  "Trust me, Wolf, I do.  Every woman that comes to me adds to my future.  Every guard I befriend is one chance to get ahead.  When your only other option is death, you do what you have to to survive.  You learn to win."

"And what do we win?"

His answer was little more than a breath.  The sound of it was as cold as winter ice.  "Revenge."

Staring at the dark ceiling, she let it wash over her.  If she could live through this, she'd learn to fight.  They'd never expect that of her.  If they even recognized her by the time she was done, they wouldn't see a woman as a threat.  No one would believe the once pampered princess could live through this.  If they killed her family, then the least she could do was kill them back.  Maybe they'd ruined her, but she'd survive just to avenge the royal name.

"I can do that," she finally said.  "I can make them all pay for what they've done."

"Yeah."  The Lion took a long breath.  "And don't let anything stand in your way.  Do whatever you need to in order to get there.  You're stronger than all of this.  Say it over and over, and eventually you'll believe it."

"I am the Wolf of Oberhame," Leyli whispered.  "I cannot be defeated."

"Exactly."

Somewhere in the night, she managed to fall asleep.  When the sounds of people in the halls woke her, her first thought was pain.  Her nose hurt.  Her arms burned.  Every muscle in her body protested the idea of moving.  Men were making their way down the line, pushing trays of food between the bars.  Others, dressed more like merchants, walked the aisles, looking into the cells with curiosity.  Slowly, the sound of voices grew.

"Feeling refreshed, Lion?"

Her neighbor groaned.  "Go away, Merino."

"You always fight better after a good slut."

"No.  I always fight like a beast.  I don't need your middle-aged widows to keep me awake.  What do you want?"

The man, who must be a team owner, shifted enough so that Leyli could see him.  His robe was dark blue, trimmed in silver.  He glanced over, and she refused to look away, making it clear she was assessing him.  Merino smiled, then turned his attention back to the Lion.

"You're going tandem today.  As the highest scoring gladiator, you pick last.  You know what that means, right?"

"I get the worst partner in the group.  Just make sure I have a sharp sword.  If the bastard slows me down, I'll cut the chain off his arm."

"That's my boy," Merino purred.  "There will be seven groups, all coming for you.  Don't make two-hundred your unlucky number."

"Not today," the Lion promised.

Tandem.  That meant she'd be assigned a partner.  If the Lion got the worst of the group, then that gave Leyli an advantage.  She pulled her hair out of the knot, rubbed her hands over it to make it look rough, then shoveled back the food without tasting it.  When she heard the guards coming to collect the novice fighters, she took a deep breath – and probed her nose.

Pain flared behind her eyes and tears followed.  She couldn't hold back the whimper.  Oh, it was definitely broken.  Sitting on the edge of the cot, she tried to make her ears stop ringing.  By the time her own gate opened, her eyes were streaming.

This time, her jailer wasn't Tinas.  A large, dark-skinned man grabbed her arm and hauled her forward.  Stumbling along beside him, her vision blurred by tears, Leyli relaxed.  She was just a tiny girl, just a debtor who'd gotten lucky the day before.  She tripped awkwardly over the rough floor until the man tossed her into a large room.  Along the far wall stood a line of merchants.  Clustered in the center were the men who'd lived this long, and one broken little girl.

They all sneered at her.  With a whimper, she moved back, clutching her arms over her chest, yanking at what was left of her dress.  Battered and bruised, she had to look atrocious, and Leyli was willing to use that.  She didn't even try to hide the tears on her face.

Then the first gladiator came in.  Dressed in black leather with silver accents to make his attire ornate, he let his eyes roam the group.  The other men stood straighter.  Leyli stepped back.  The fighter glanced at her and huffed before moving on to choose a burly man.

Another came, and then another after that.  Each of them dismissed Leyli without a second glance.  In the end, it was just her and a weak young man.  This time, the gladiator wore brown and brass.  He groaned his frustration at the choices, then stormed toward them.

She didn't have to fake fear at his approach.  Stumbling back, she nearly tripped and a yelp slipped out.  The man looked at her and chuckled.

"Looks like the Lion's finally going to have a chain that will slow him down.  I'll take the man.  His bones are thin enough."

The pair left, leaving just her and the man in blue.  Merino, they'd called him.  He said nothing until the door shut, then motioned for the guard to bring in his fighter.  When he gestured to Leyli, he was grinning.

"Look what the cat dragged in."

The Lion let his eyes roam over her.  "Why are you last?"

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin.  "Because you're the best, and I know how to be a weak little girl.  I can't prove to anyone that I'm a good choice, but it's not hard to convince you men that I'm worthless."

He nodded once.  "Sword or shield?"

She thought about that quickly.  She'd heard of this game.  They chained the fighters together, giving one a sword, the other a shield.  Their only chance at survival was to either be sufficient with what they had, kill their partner, or work together as a unit.

"The shield, sir."

He stepped toward her.  "I'm no 'sir,' little Wolf.  You know I could hack off your arm and take the shield?"

"I do.  I also think that I'm short enough to work around you without making problems.  I'm quick enough to keep up.  I'm certainly smart enough to not disappoint you."

The Lion turned to his master.  "She'll do.  Call her the Wolf of Oberhame."

"If she's alive at the end," Merino teased.  "Otherwise, we'll call her dead."

The Lion looked at her again.  "She'll be alive.  This one has teeth."

He gestured to a door on the far wall.  Walking beside him, they entered a large room filled with weapons.  The Lion looked at her once, then picked up a dagger and grabbed the waist of her dress.  When Leyli didn't jerk away, he smiled… then began cutting.

"Your first impression says a lot, as you've noticed.  If you're weak, they will hunt you down.  If you're strong, they'll gang up to kill you.  I can't be anything but strong, so we need to make you look the same."

"I can do that."

His hazel eyes looked up at her.  "Can you?"

"Watch me."

He went back to cutting.  When he was done, her dress had become a tattered shirt and a skirt that barely hung on her hips.  He took the length of cloth and wove it into the material as a belt, making sure it would stay.  She looked like a barbarian wench, except instead of cheap leather, she wore the remnants of expensive pink chiffon.  It was more flesh than she'd ever shown in public, but the Lion's mind wasn't on her body.

Leyli raked her fingers through her hair then tied it back as well as she could.  The Lion pulled out another pink scrap and knotted it around the mess.  Like a dainty ribbon, the cloth only helped keep her mane back.  Then he shrugged and gestured to the next door, grabbing a sword as he followed.

"If you harm a guard, your debt doubles.  That means your goal of two hundred and fifty fights becomes five hundred.  No one has lived past three hundred."

"Only one man has ever earned his way out, right?"  She remembered that from some history lesson.

The Lion nodded.  "And I'll be the second.  If you listen to me, you'll be the third."

She chuckled and looked up at him.  "Still not a man."

"Today, you might as well be.  They won't be nice to you because you aren't, and on the sands, the only thing we have time to see are your vital areas."  He gestured to someone at the side.  "Manacle on the right hand.  Someone get her a round shield?"

The man was a blacksmith, or what passed for one in a gladiator arena.  He looked at her wrist, shook his head, then grabbed a cuff.  With a groan, he tossed it away before grabbing another.  This one was smaller.  Only then did he pin it around her arm and attach a length of chain.  The Lion stepped up on the other side, holding his left arm out.

"Renak, can I have that one?"  He pointed at a wider cuff in the pile behind the man.  "It fits over the bracers."

"Yeah.  Be safe out there, Lion.  Don't let the cunt slow you down."

"Not gonna happen.  Little bitch might even help."

The pin clicked into place.  Another man shoved a shield at her.  While the Lion guided her forward, she pushed her arm into the braces, looking at the inside.  She'd never held a shield before, and it was a lot heavier than she expected.  It also felt really solid.  Leyli tested the weight, praying she'd be able to lift it fast enough.

"The grip should be large enough for a man."  Reaching over, the Lion tapped it.  "Use both hands if you have to.  You can hit as well as block with that.  Think of it like a really big club."

She nodded quickly.  "Ok.  How do I help?"

"Watch my back.  Don't lag behind.  When I say move, don't ask questions, just do it."

"Yes, sir."

He punched her arm gently.  "Stay on my left if you can.  Call it if you have to dart around.  Do not get me tangled in that chain."

"So, I block, you kill.  You roar, I act like an obedient bitch.  Got it."

He looked at her quickly, grinning.  "I think I like you, kid.  Try not to die?"

"Consider it a two hundredth victory present."

Get WHEN WE WERE KINGS on Amazon

Books by Auryn Hadley:

Adding Ink (Romance):

One More Day

Two of a Kind (Planned)

The Wolf of Oberhame (Fantasy):

When We Were Kings

When We Were Dancing

When We Were Crowned (In Progress)

Gamer Girls (Contemporary Romance):

Flawed

Challenge Accepted

Virtual Reality (In Progress)

Rise of the Iliri (Science Fantasy):

BloodLust

Instinctual

Defiance

Inseparable

Tenacity

Resilience

Dissent

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About The Author

Auryn Hadley is happily married with three canine children and a herd of feral cats that her husband keeps feeding.  Between her love for animals, video games, and a good book, she has enough ideas to spend the rest of her life trying to get them out.  They all live in Texas, land of the blistering sun, where she spends her days feeding her addictions – including drinking way too much coffee.

For a complete list of books by Auryn Hadley, visit my Amazon Author Page, or check out my website: aurynhadley.com

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