A Call for Brighter Days: Aeriel Trilogy #2

Janak’s face, flushed with exertion and exhilaration, flashed in front of Shwaan’s eyes. His fingers dug into Shwaan’s left shoulder. With his free hand, Janak reached behind him and twisted the sif-plated rod that had been driven through his wings to keep him from flying.

Shwaan’s vision blurred. He bit viciously down on his tongue to keep himself from crying out. Janak was muttering something in his ear, as he usually did during these sessions. The man did like to hear himself talk.

But he couldn’t concentrate on the words. His body was on fire, constantly broken and kept from healing by the sif that enveloped him. At the same time, the sif made him too lethargic to move away or defend himself.

Not that there was much he could do to stop Janak and his men, his hands tied by Kaheen’s presence. Perhaps it was a good thing that he was too tired to fight back.

Over Janak’s shoulder, he watched Kaheen stoke the flames in the makeshift stove, her expression blank. Janak hadn’t tried to brand him again, but he did sometimes use the heated sif as punishment for disobedience. This served only as an incentive for Shwaan to disobey, to overcome his sif-induced apathy and burn through the Qawirsin’s stock of reinforced ores.

Even so, there were limits to what he could endure at a time, and as Janak moved over him, he felt himself fast approaching that limit. He wished he could make himself pass out. His control was slipping. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to stop the energy rushing through his veins from spilling out. He was too weak to kill anyone, involuntarily or otherwise. But Janak’s men might interpret it as an attack and strike back, hurt Kaheen again to teach him a lesson.

As he watched, Kaheen lifted her eyes to his, their gazes meeting for a split second. Then, she turned back to her task, her movements fidgety and restless.

“This is getting boooring!” The whine in her voice was unmistakable as Kaheen wrapped her pale, slender arms around Janak’s waist.

Shwaan’s eyes flew open. He hadn’t heard her approach, too busy trying to keep himself from lashing out instinctively. How much time had he lost? As the days passed, hours and minutes were blurring together, and he could feel himself losing his grasp on the passage of time.

Kaheen’s lips moved, her chin resting on one of Janak’s broad shoulders. Shwaan grit his teeth, forcing himself to focus on what she was saying.

“They’re trying to track us down. We just received word from Ragah that Kinoh’s doing everything in his power to get access to Farid. He even went to the IAW Director, and now the media’s involved.” She kept speaking, but Shwaan lost track of the words, his thoughts scattered and chaotic.

What was Ruban doing? Who was Farid? And how did Kaheen know any of this? Did the mafia have allies within the Hunter Corps? The IAW?

“We need to go after the Hunters, put a stop to this before it can turn into another feeding frenzy for the media. They might pressure the government into mobilizing against us,” Kaheen continued. “Besides, from what I’ve heard, Kinoh isn’t the type to give up easily. He did murder Tauheen and my mother, after all. I wouldn’t underestimate him.” She spared a glance at Shwaan. “You can come back to him once the Hunters have been dealt with. It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

Janak smiled, turning slightly away from Shwaan to wrap an arm around Kaheen. “You want me to let him go?” His voice was soft, amused.

“For now.” She held herself very still. “Just until we’ve dealt with Kinoh and his coterie.”

He nodded. “Very well. You’re right, of course. We have work to do. Can’t waste all our time on the entertainment.” With a sneer, he pushed himself to his feet, adjusting his tunic until the wrinkles had been pressed out of the fabric. “No matter how entertaining it might be.”

He raised a hand and beckoned one of the men standing near the door.

The short, wiry man – who seemed almost to be Janak’s shadow – pulled a sifblade out from the still-burning stove and came to stand by his master’s side. Janak held out his hand, and the man passed the red, smoldering blade to him, handle first.

Janak turned to Kaheen, still smiling. “I have to apologize. Ever since he arrived,” his eyes flicked to Shwaan. “I’ve been distracted. Preoccupied. It’s just…I’d spent so long dreaming of the day I’d see those wings again, the day I’d finally get my revenge…

“But that’s no excuse. I’ve monopolized him, and I shouldn’t have. Not when I knew how much you hated him, how badly you desired your own revenge against the people who abandoned you. You’ve been a loyal friend to me, Kaheen.” He carded his fingers gently through her hair. “And you deserve my gratitude.”

He took her hand in his and wrapped it securely around the handle of the sifblade.

“There you go.” He looked at Shwaan, his gaze contemptuous. “Make sure he gets what he deserves, for casting you aside to hide behind his sister’s skirts in Vaan. Make sure he regrets the day he thought to betray you.” He stepped back, his tone soft and encouraging. “Now’s your chance to get your revenge on Vaan. And to prove to me, once and for all, your loyalty to our cause.”

Despite the pain that wracked his body, Shwaan wanted to laugh. It was a masterstroke. If Kaheen refused his request in front of so many people, Janak would have irrefutable proof of her attachment to Shwaan. And once he had it, it wouldn’t be hard for him to accuse her of disloyalty and have her executed, without alienating the other Aeriels in his gang. If she obeyed him, on the other hand, it’d put an end to any possibility of an alliance between her and Shwaan.

He looked up, trying to meet her eyes. When he finally succeeded, her trapped, terrified expression told him that she’d reached the same conclusion independently.

He blinked slowly, thrice.

As children, this had been their signal when they wanted to communicate without alerting Maya or any of the other staff at the castle.

He was giving her permission to play along. And he didn’t care if Janak saw him do it. Even if he suspected something, he couldn’t have her killed for being blinked at. And that was all that mattered, keeping them both alive until he could find a way out of this.

Kaheen’s eyes widened imperceptibly. Then, she looked away, tightening her grip on the handle of the sifblade. She hesitated, gazing down at the red, smoking blade, her movements unsure. But that was natural. She was an Aeriel, after all. Discomfort with a sifblade was only to be expected, no matter who she’d be using it on.

She sank to her knees in front of Shwaan. Her hands were shaking, something akin to horror in her eyes.

He kept his eyes on hers, trying to convey reassurance without saying anything.

He didn’t want her to feel responsible, but he needed her to do this.

He knew what it was to carry the interminable guilt of having betrayed a friend; even unintentionally, even when you felt like you had no other choice. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, much less Kaheen, who’d spent years being used by her mother as a weapon.

But he couldn’t spare her now, not without dooming them both. And in his estimation, a little guilt was worth a few extra millennia of life.

Remember the night I left you, Kaheen, he wanted to tell her. The first time you realized I wasn’t coming back. That I’d abandoned you. Abandoned Maya. There’s a part of you that wants this, that knows I deserve it. And now’s the time to set it free.

He didn’t know what she saw in his face, but after a few more seconds of hesitation, she sighed, giving in. She raised the sifblade, holding his gaze as she did so.

With a hiss, the scorching metal caressed his skin.

All thoughts fled his mind as the blade sliced through his torso. The lacerations spilled light, illuminating their darkened corner of the atrium. Pain and exhaustion overwhelmed him. Dazed, he let his head fall back against the hard stone wall.

Kaheen reached out, grabbing him by the nape of his neck to pull him forward. As she did so, she buried the blade further into his flesh.

Obscured from the onlookers, her fingers stroked the back of his neck, gentle and comforting.