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  Siray accepted the jar quickly, wanting to minimise any further contact to save herself from flushing further. ‘Thanks. Well, I better get some rest. See you tomorrow.’ She spun and swiped a hand at the activation pad for the door, almost falling through it in her rush to escape into the room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  A FAMILIAR THRUMMING woke Siray up the next morning, and a chorus of groans told her that her friends had also been dragged from their sleep by their own devices. Once again, she felt like she could use another half day of sleep, but she was sure that going to bed early had helped at least a little. She heard a pair of light feet go past below her bunk, and then the room was suddenly flooded with light.

  Siray’s groan joined with the others as she covered her eyes with her hands to save them from the brightness.

  ‘Up, up, up! No custom wake-up calls this morning.’

  Genlie’s chirpy voice made Siray roll her eyes, but she crawled to the end of her bed and climbed down. How Genlie could wake up and function straightaway this early was beyond her.

  ‘You didn’t come to the rec room last night,’ Siray said as she began donning her training gear, her body stiff.

  Genlie, who was also pulling on her clothes, said, ‘Yeah, sorry. I really did get quite sleepy after I eventually finished up washing, so I walked into the meals hall, grabbed a quick bite, and came straight back to the room.’

  Siray smiled. ‘You were sleeping like a fallen tree when I came in. I should have done the same, really, but I didn’t stay long in the rec room myself—had some big yawns happening—and turned in early.’

  ‘Well, I bet they’re all regretting their late night,’ Genlie said, nodding in the direction of the males, who were slowly moving about the room.

  Finished dressing, they both waited by the door for the others, Siray taming her hair enough to fix it up and away from her face.

  ‘What do you have first up this morning?’ asked Genlie.

  Siray glanced down at her arm and grimaced. ‘Fitness. You?’

  ‘Weapons.’

  Siray looked at her palms at the mention of that session and then compared herself to Genlie. ‘Your hands seem to be okay. Why are mine so sore?’

  ‘Wexner and I have worked with weapons before,’ answered Genlie, ‘so our hands are used to the effort. Don’t worry—you’ll adapt to it soon.’

  Siray nodded, but she wasn’t really thinking on Genlie’s response anymore. Instead, she was recalling the way Zale’s hands had gently kneaded hers the evening before.

  ‘Alright—let’s do this!’ announced Jorgi.

  Siray eyed Jorgi with amusement, who was obviously trying to pump himself up for the hard sessions ahead.

  And they were hard. Siray had hoped that the sessions might be easier on the second day, but the notion died swiftly as the instructors pushed them. If anything, the training felt more gruelling, but she couldn’t be sure if that was because she hurt so much already or because the instructors were actually pushing them harder than they had the previous day.

  The spans passed again in a blur of punishing training sessions, light meals, and a longing for rest.

  That night, only Deson visited the recreation room while the rest of them hit their beds soon after the evening meal.

  The following days were much the same, except for increasing aching muscles, but after five days of training, Siray found that she was getting used to the routine and could even summon the energy at times to visit the recreation room of an evening.

  After a little over a turn—ten days—of training, Siray could rise in the morning, feeling rested, and go through her day with plenty of energy. The instructors still pushed them hard, but her body was stronger, tougher, and could endure more. Her skill with various weapons was good, but she found that she excelled at fighting with two single blades, like the training pair she had picked up just before she had been released from the healing level.

  Baindan had been urged by the instructor to continue using the long fighting stick, while Deson had been given access to a weapon that resembled an axe, with a long, arcing handle and a large curved blade.

  In their Change sessions, Siray had learned about the danger signs leading to loss of control, mental exercises they could do to reclaim their focus, the various ways of fighting in her form, and when to follow her instincts.

  The fitness sessions saw her lifting heavier objects while also focusing on balance and speed, things that the instructor said were essential in a fight.

  Most days Siray saw Zale either during a meal or of an evening in the recreation room if he wasn’t on duty. He would join their group for a conversation, or Siray would go and chat with him and his friends. Sometimes she even went and talked to the few females she saw around, like Kinna, but she avoided running into Melora if she could help it.

  She had watched Zale battle against two others in Force of Will matches so far, although he seemed to take on the challenges more due to boredom than from any real interest. When she watched those matches, Siray could see why he remained unbeaten, with both matches short and without any real contest for the win. But what surprised her was that he didn’t flaunt his victories at all, just accepted them, simply thanking his opponent for the game.

  Deson, however, loved to celebrate his victories. And he was having many. Slowly, he had been taking on more and more challenges until his name appeared up on the leaderboard one night.

  ‘Right—we’re all having batra juice to celebrate!’ he said.

  So they did, laughing and joking with each other as the night wore on and their heads grew lighter from the pleasantly numbing liquid. Siray reflected that it was a shame Zale had had to be on duty that evening, as he would have been interested in watching Deson’s match. At first it had appeared that it would be a close game, with the mist moving backwards and forwards between the two contenders. Then, with a burst of speed, the mist had advanced quickly towards Deson’s adversary, the pads lighting up under Deson’s palms.

  Siray had to admit that she was suitably impressed with Deson’s triumphs, especially given how new he was to the game. But she wasn’t the only one to take notice. Two females made a point that night to flatter Deson after his match, and one of them was Melora.

  ‘Deson,’ Melora purred as she approached him, batting her lashes. ‘How nice to see you getting recognition for your … talents.’ She let her fingers flutter across his arm before she sauntered away once again.

  Siray just stared after her in dislike, but Deson looked pleased and a little flushed. But that could easily have been from the drinks he had already consumed, Siray told herself.

  Well into the evening, it was Siray’s turn to get them all the next round of drinks, so she left her friends to weave her way through the crowd of people milling about, aiming for the small drinks servery that was sunk into one of the room’s walls.

  Tapping her leg as she waited to be served, she felt a hand touch and caress her hair lightly.

  Thinking that either Baindan or Deson had followed her to the queue, she turned with a smile to tell whichever of them it was that they may as well have just offered to go and get the drinks themselves.

  But her words died on her lips when she saw Mocery standing there.

  ‘You’re looking particularly … enticing tonight, Siray. Let me get you a drink.’

  Siray gave him a flat smile and said, ‘Thanks, but I’m fine.’ She turned away immediately in a not-so-subtle hint to leave her alone, but a moment later, she felt Mocery touch her hair again.

  She spun back towards him, slightly unsteady due to the drinks she had already consumed, but demanded firmly, ‘Stop it!’

  Heads in the crowd turned in their direction.

  Siray forced herself to give another false smile, but she eyed the male coldly. ‘While I respect your persistence, Mocery, I have already informed you that I’m not interested in you.’ Her voice went hard. ‘At all.’ She spun away again and stepped forwards in th
e queue but then felt breath against one ear.

  ‘We’ll see,’ whispered Mocery.

  Siray shivered and whirled to warn him again, but Mocery had left the queue and was striding briskly towards the door. Relieved, she sighed and pivoted back to order the drinks.

  A drink or two later, Siray had forgotten all about her run-in with Mocery. She had fun watching more matches with the others and speculating about what they could be doing after they finished their training.

  Eventually, though, they all grew tired and began heading in twos and threes to their room.

  Siray left with Baindan and Tamot, and both she and Baindan were forced to listen as Tamot moaned the entire walk about how Jorgi had finally beaten him at the blocks game.

  As she prepared for bed, Siray was happier than ever about her choice of bunk as Tamot’s voice continued to carry on from across the room, although she did feel a little sympathy for Baindan as he muttered, ‘Uhuh,’ at relevant moments punctuating the ongoing commentary.

  Light-headed, happy, and warm, Siray dropped into a deep sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN, she escaped?’ roared the voice through the projection.

  Silver winced. ‘I mean, my lord, that the scout barely made it back alive to report this intelligence. But we know the direction they were headed.’

  The eyes glaring out from the projection narrowed. ‘I want more than that. You’ve already let this female escape twice—I don’t know that you’ll survive should she manage it a third time.’

  Silver stiffened, the silver mask he wore revealing nothing of his expression. ‘I assure you, my lord, our person on the inside will come through. We’ll have their location soon.’

  ‘You better,’ rumbled the male at the other end of the communication. ‘She’s the key to this whole plan. And it won’t be long before the cities all become aware of what’s going on. The unrest continues to grow, and our contact on the council is already hard-pressed to stop any military action being taken against us. Move quickly. And do not fail me.’

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ said Silver obligingly, bowing his head.

  When he looked up again, the projection had faded away.

  ***

  Siray came half awake, her head swimming with the images she had just seen. She groggily tried to sort through them, but the needs of her body were stronger than her mind, and she merely managed to roll over onto her side before she succumbed once more to the void.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  MORE DAYS PASSED, during which Siray easily shrugged off her dream about Silver and an unknown male as a nightmare, especially after Deson queried three times the following morning if she was alright. Thus, she forcefully put it from her mind and dedicated herself to her training.

  And after three turns of continuous hard work, the instructors surprised Siray and the others by bringing them all together into one room following their final session of the day.

  The weapons instructor, Dalria, stepped forwards. ‘After evaluating your performance over the last couple of days, the other instructors and I have decided that you are now fit to go on active duty.’

  Siray stared at the instructors for a moment before promptly sharing happy looks with the others.

  Dalria ignored their obvious excitement and continued, ‘After approving our evaluation, the captain has granted you tomorrow off from any duties, and this evening you will receive the uniform you will wear while on active duty. Thank you all for your efforts, and we wish you every success in your fight against the enemy.’

  Siray and the others thanked the instructors and watched as the three of them filed from the room. As soon as the door closed, however, the celebration began.

  ‘We’re done!’ Siray yelled, twirling on the spot with her arms wide open.

  ‘A whole day off!’ Jorgi said excitedly, and Genlie cheered.

  After a few more moments of expressing their elation, Genlie and Wexner being amongst the loudest, they all settled down and decided on a plan.

  ‘Showers,’ Genlie enthused.

  ‘Hot food,’ said Jorgi dreamily.

  ‘Games,’ mused Deson.

  ‘Drinks!’ chimed in Siray.

  Laughing, they left the training level and took risers down to the accommodation level, agreeing to meet in the meals hall after they were all far less grimy.

  Reaching the room quickly, Siray and Genlie each grabbed a set of clean clothes and were heading back out of the room before the males had even gotten to their bunks. When they entered the washroom, they found a couple of the other females within, including Melora, but none of them stayed long, meaning that Siray and Genlie had the wash area entirely to themselves.

  After a good lengthy shower, Siray dried and dressed, keen to meet up with the others to begin their celebrations. She even managed to get Genlie to emerge from the shower after threatening to take all her clothes away, and after waiting impatiently for her friend to also dry and dress, they proceeded to the meals hall, talking excitedly.

  As they sat down with their full plates at the tables with the males, Siray surreptitiously looked around the room before turning back to her meal and the conversation.

  But Genlie nudged her a moment later. ‘Who were you just scanning for?’ she asked, then answered her own question. ‘If its Zale you’re looking for, you won’t find him. He pulled the afternoon shift.’

  ‘Oh,’ Siray said, disappointed. Then she realised Genlie was watching her closely. So she lightened her tone and shrugged. ‘I just wanted to tell him our news.’

  Genlie eyed her over the rim of a mug. ‘He usually comes by the recreation room after his shifts. He can join us for drinks!’

  Her eyes sparkled mischievously, and Siray raised an eyebrow.

  ‘What are you plotting?’

  ‘Me?’ Genlie asked in indignation, opening her eyes wide, and acting surprised at the question. It was a look that suited her well, with her light skin and pale hair.

  Siray shook her head and chuckled.

  Their group didn’t linger over their meals long, as Deson was apparently keen to get to the recreation room and sign up for a match.

  On the way out, however, Siray’s arm thrummed, and she stopped, frowning down at her device.

  Rehabilitation. 300.

  The countdown had started.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Genlie, who had stopped with her.

  ‘Apparently I’ve got to go to the rehab room,’ Siray responded, looking up from her arm. She looked longingly down the hall after the others.

  Genlie shrugged. ‘Well, you’ll have to go up there, then. But come back down as soon as you can, because tonight is for celebrating,’ she said, doing a little dance.

  Siray nodded, smiling. ‘Definitely. Nafren probably wants to do a final checkup, now that we’re cleared. You know how he’s been springing those on me every couple of days.’

  Genlie nodded. ‘Baindan had to go do one yesterday, didn’t he?’

  Siray nodded and then, looking at the countdown, started backing away. ‘I better get moving.’ Genlie waved, and Siray watched enviously as her friend continued on in the direction of the recreation room.

  Groaning, she turned towards the bank of risers, walking briskly up to the guards so they could swipe her device for clearance, and then rode a riser up to the training and rehab level.

  Once she had stepped off the platform and had cleared the guards, she strode swiftly down the familiar hallway and, approaching the door marked ‘R1’, hit the door’s activation pad and proceeded through.

  Just past the threshold of the door, Siray came to a standstill, gasping as she marvelled at her surroundings.

  Before her was mostly open air, with dark shadows playing over the hard rock of the mountainside shelf she had hiked out onto. Stars twinkled in the dark heavens high above her, and only slivers of Kaslon’s three moons could be see as they chased one another through the clouds.

  It was stunning.<
br />
  The door swished closed behind Siray, and she took a careful step out towards the brink of the cliff, leaning forwards to peer over the edge at the drop. Far below, the base of the mountain could just be glimpsed in the darkness.

  Even knowing it was a projection didn’t make it seem any less real. Siray pivoted slowly, surveying the view with wonder. Behind her, towards where she could make out the outline of the door, there was the last remnants of an orange-and-purple sunset sinking behind the cap of the mountain that continued to tower overhead.

  And then a shadow, deeper than the twilight around it, moved by the door.

  Siray squinted, then frowned as she realised what it was. A person, slowly prowling towards her. Concerned, she took a hesitant step backwards, but then the cheeky expression Genlie had worn at dinner popped into her head, and she stilled.

  ‘Zale? Is that you?’

  Siray peered at the person slinking towards her; however, the sunset was all but gone, its last remnants causing the person’s face to be enfolded in night.

  Yet, at the mention of his name, the figure paused. And nodded.

  Siray sighed, annoyed he had scared her. Nevertheless, a smile broke out across her face. ‘Did you arrange this?’ she asked playfully, putting her hands on her hips.

  Zale nodded again and resumed his sauntering pace in her direction.

  Siray gave a coy smile and shook her head. How like Genlie, to set her up like this. She’d have to tell her to stop getting involved in her business. After she thanked her first, that was.

  Zale came within a couple of paces and stopped, tilting his head as he regarded her.

  Siray thought he must be admiring her, and she crossed her arms, her smile more seductive now. ‘What, you’re not going to say anything? Suddenly shy? Or do you just need the right motivation?’ she asked playfully. Boldly stepping forwards, she ran her hands over his shoulders, leaning in closer.

  It seemed to be enough of a prompt, and Zale reached out to pull her towards him. Roughly.