“He’s angry because he didn’t think to switch paddles?”

  Andira nodded.

  “Is he sure he’s a producer? That sounds like a warrior.”

  “He’s a producer who spent several cycles being brutally trained as a warrior. I expect there are parts of that he’ll never lose. None of them will.”

  Salomen set aside her plate. “I’m ready.”

  While Andira was telling her tale, she had pulled the little table in front of the lounge, set the palm projector on it, and taken a seat next to Salomen. Now she reached out to tap the projector.

  A holographic image at one-quarter scale appeared in the air. At the moment, their perspective was from the State House steps.

  “Rax started here,” Andira said, pointing to the Gaian standing next to Arabisar. “He’s realizing the high level of security.”

  Rax looked around, a growing frown on his face, then froze as he stared at Demerah. He said something to Arabisar and smoothly slipped behind her. Another two steps took him behind Salomen, where he paused to remove one paddle.

  “Poor man,” Salomen murmured. “Rahel can tell him exactly how long it will take to recover from that mistake. Oh, no, here comes Rusill.”

  The little girl burst from the front line of marchers and ran across the gap. Taken by surprise, Lanaril stood motionless for a piptick before giving chase.

  Andira stopped the playback and pointed at Rahel, whose head was turned toward Rax. “She saw him. Vellmar felt him, obviously, but she said she dismissed it because he had zero violent intent. She’s embarrassed about that now.”

  “Should she be? Isn’t that what she’s trained to scan for?”

  “Yes, but she’s a warrior.” Andira said it as if it should explain everything, and Salomen thought it probably did.

  The playback resumed, showing an unspoken exchange between Rax and Rahel. Rax lifted a hand over Salomen’s shoulder, and Rahel shifted her stance.

  “Look where Demerah’s hand is,” Andira said quietly.

  “Goddess above.” It seemed obvious, but no one had seen it. No one but Rax—and then Rahel.

  Demerah drew and threw the first blade so rapidly that Salomen couldn’t follow the movement. She pulled the second in a cross-body draw—she wasn’t ambidextrous like Fianna, Salomen thought—and threw it right after the first. Beside her, Ronlin reacted almost instantly, barreling into her before she could reach for a third.

  Rax had yanked Salomen back the instant Demerah moved. Her blade hit his paddle just as he thrust it out.

  “Stop,” Salomen croaked.

  She was speaking to Andira, but the projector was voice-activated. It froze the playback with her and Rax toppling backward and Rahel lunging toward them.

  Andira’s worry settled over her like an itchy blanket. “I didn’t want to—”

  “No, I need to see this.” She could not take her eyes off the staggering reality of what she had lived through. It had all happened so quickly that she hadn’t had time to think, but now she understood why Rax had blocked her view.

  “She knew I was armored. She aimed for my face. For my face, Andira. How could—” She stopped as the true scope of betrayal burned through her chest to settle, hot and heavy, in the bottom of her stomach. “What did I do to deserve that?”

  Andira slipped an arm around her waist, a gentle gesture at odds with the anger scorching their link. “What you deserved was her loyalty and respect. If she couldn’t give that because she disagreed with your reform, then she should have withdrawn her oath.”

  “Did she always hate me? Am I that blind?”

  She resisted the pressure of Andira’s hand against her jaw until it grew too insistent to ignore. Not until the last possible piptick did she look away from the hologram and into the worried eyes of her bondmate.

  “Don’t look for reasons, tyrina. You’re trying to make sense of this, but none of us can. Whatever justifications she told herself won’t make sense to anyone but her.” Andira touched a fingertip to the dimple in Salomen’s chin. “You’re not responsible for her choices.”

  Salomen closed her eyes. Hatred was simple, a shallow emotion with no nuance, but it was also powerful and sticky. Demerah had tarred her with it. She needed every bit of Andira’s beautifully complex love to counter its suffocating effects.

  The nice thing about having a tyree, she thought as Andira drew her into a warmron, was being relieved of the burden of asking. She had never been good at admitting weakness or need, but with Andira she didn’t have to. Silently she nuzzled in, letting their connection melt away the coating of hatred. The piney scent unique to Andira’s skin soothed her, a visceral assurance of the physical presence she had missed so much over the last three days.

  When she felt able to breathe again, she dropped a grateful kiss on Andira’s throat and straightened. “Thank you. I’m all right now.” She paused, frowning at the sudden heaviness in their link. “But you’re not.”

  “I’m sorry,” Andira said in a tight voice. “This should never have happened. Any of it. Micah and I were so careful when we chose your Guards—”

  “Andira.” Salomen reached for her hand. “If I cannot be responsible for her choices, neither can you.”

  “It’s not just Demerah. We evacuated the State House. We ordered everyone out except a few essential personnel and the State House Guards. We locked the doors of every room facing the front. We made this place into a fortress and never thought—Fahla.”

  Salomen squeezed her hand, wishing she could help as much as Andira had already helped her.

  “We were all scanning the crowd.” Andira blinked back tears. “No one thought to scan behind us because none of us imagined that a State House Guard would break their oath. I was so upset with you for slipping your Guards, so worried about your safety, but you chose the best Guards of all.” She wiped her eyes. “Vellmar was the first to realize the true danger. The moment you hit the ground, she was telling everyone on the channel to scan the State House. I didn’t want to believe it, but then—”

  “I found him.”

  She nodded. “And even then I couldn’t believe it until you said he wasn’t one of mine.”

  Salomen pulled her into a warmron. “This is worse for you than for me, I think.”

  Demerah’s treachery was personal for Salomen, but Andira was shaken by a more foundational blow. That not one, but two elite warriors could break their oaths—her caste trust was deeply bruised.

  Unexpectedly, Andira chuckled, her dark emotions lightening to gray. “What a day, when we’re comparing who had it worse.” She squeezed so tightly that it was difficult to breathe, and when they separated, she did not release Salomen’s hand. “Speaking of which, I had to reassure Ronlin that he hasn’t lost his position. You might wish to reiterate that.”

  “Why would he—oh. He’s blaming himself for not catching her before she could act?”

  “He has the strength to see through her front. And he was standing right next to her.”

  “But there was no reason for him to probe her.”

  “That’s what you need to tell him. We all know he’s not at fault. I think even he knows. But sometimes emotion trumps logic.”

  Salomen looked at the hologram, still frozen on the moment of betrayal from a person she, Andira, Ronlin, and everyone else was supposed to trust with her life. “You know what? I’m not hurt anymore. Now I’m furious. Show me the rest.”

  “You don’t need—”

  “Yes, I do. Will you set it back? I want to see the whole thing.”

  A smile quirked one side of Andira’s mouth. “You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever known.”

  “I think you know at least one other at the same level. You’re wearing her skin.”

  Andira shook her head, amusement further lightening her emotional signature as she leaned forward to reset the playback.

  Salomen watched intently. The attack wasn’t as shocking this time, and she was better able to focus on the details. She saw that Rax hadn’t meant to pull her to the ground, but when she blindly stepped back into his leg, she had thrown them both off balance. No doubt he had intended to shield her until Demerah was taken down. After all, he had also known that her only vulnerable point was her head.

  What astonished her most was what happened when they fell. Rahel reacted at the same time as Rax, thrusting out her stave as she lunged to the side. She was too late for the first knife, missing it by a hair. But somehow, while her body was still in motion, she swung the stave forward and down—and slapped the second knife into the ground. It hit the brick path, bounced once, and slid to a stop.

  She let her body’s motion carry her through two quick side-steps and settled into a ready position between Salomen and Demerah. Fianna leaped to cover her, knife in hand and poised to throw.

  It had all taken two or three pipticks.

  Salomen stared at Rahel, holding her stave and watching as Demerah was knocked unconscious.

  “That was—did Fahla help her? How did she do that?”

  “I don’t know. The last time I saw anything like that was when Vellmar knocked her mother’s sword out of the air at the Global Games.”

  Salomen shook her head as the scene played on. Her holographic self disentangled from Rax and pushed into a crouch, looking up at Lanaril and Rusill. Rahel set a hand on her shoulder and bent over, using her own body as a shield.

  “She stopped him, too,” Salomen realized. “The sniper. She made his shot impossible from the beginning.”

  “Her and Vellmar both,” Andira agreed. “Can’t say I ever imagined giving Rahel a commendation, but I understand why Shantu valued her so highly.”

  Now Rusill was weeping into Lanaril’s stomach, and Salomen had seen enough. She paused the playback and pointed. “That’s what made me separate. When I realized that if the knife hadn’t been stopped, it would have hit Rusill.”

  Andira looked at her oddly, then slid her finger along the base of the palm projector. The image ran backward at half speed, until the second knife was in the air and Rahel was frozen with her stave a finger’s width from the blade.

  She gave the base a quarter turn, shifting the scene to a view from the side with Demerah on the left and Rahel on the right. A few taps later, she touched Demerah’s hand, then her knife. A shining green line appeared, showing the knife’s flight path.

  Without a word, she tapped one more control.

  The green line lengthened. While the first part was solid, this new segment was a series of dots, showing the path the knife would have taken had Rahel not stopped it. The dots extended above Salomen’s falling body, skimmed safely over the top of Rusill’s head, and ended at Lanaril’s heart.

  Salomen’s own heart felt too large, pumping too rapidly to be contained in her chest. She pressed a hand over it and stared at the horrifying truth. “Does she know?”

  “I think she does by now. Vellmar is with her.”

  “You showed this to Fianna?”

  “I showed it to her and Rahel, yes. Rahel has just become her very best friend.”

  Salomen’s laugh ended in a half-sob. “Of course she has. Of course. Do you think Fahla planned this? Rahel says Lanaril taught her how to live again. Now she saved Lanaril’s life.” Tears rose to her eyes, blurring the dotted green line. “If that had hit—”

  “It didn’t.”

  “But if it had—”

  “Salomen, it didn’t. Don’t focus on what didn’t happen. You’ll make yourself insane. Or if you want, let’s try this one. I did my best to stop you from seeing Rahel after she attacked you in Pollonius. If you’d listened to me then, Rahel would be in prison and Lanaril would be dead.”

  It was too much to think about, those could-have-beens. Andira was right; her brain would implode if she spent any more time on this path. Her heart was still beating too hard.

  “Turn it off,” she said.

  Andira deactivated the projector immediately.

  “Where is she?”

  “Outside. She and Ronlin are the only ones I trust right now.”

  “Is she going to be my Guard all night?”

  Andira shrugged, her amusement tingling through their link. “I did try to tell her to go off duty and let my Guards take over. She informed me that I’m not her oath holder. Politely, of course.”

  “I wish I’d heard that.” Salomen pushed the little table aside and went to the door. Before opening it, she raised her blocks. Her senses were still too raw to handle any emotions other than Andira’s.

  Rahel looked up and beamed. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”

  “Get in here,” Salomen said.

  Rahel’s smile dropped. She walked inside and let out a whuf when Salomen pulled her into a warmron.

  “Thank you.” Salomen’s voice cracked, and she held on more tightly. “For saving her. And me. For everything.”

  As always, Rahel gave a quality warmron. “I’m glad I was here today.”

  “Me too. I don’t know how I could have lived with the knowledge that my march killed her.”

  “It would have been hard on Rusill as well,” Andira said from her seat on the lounge. “Imagine growing up knowing that your poor behavior killed the Lead Templar.”

  Rahel pulled away and snapped into a respectful posture, both fists against her sternum. “Lancer Tal.”

  “Would you relax? You don’t have to salute every time you see me.”

  Salomen choked back a watery laugh and wiped her eyes. “Be patient, Andira. She doesn’t have much practice serving in the State House.”

  “True words.” Andira walked up to stand next to her. “Don’t worry about giving Salomen a warmron in front of me. I’m the one who taught her to break that taboo.”

  “You did?” Rahel’s eyes were the size of shannel saucers.

  “She did,” Salomen said. “I’ll tell you someday.”

  “Soon, I hope.” She pulled a familiar pair of gloves from her belt. “I kept them safe for you.”

  Salomen took them reverently and paused, staring at one of the stitch lines marking a repair.

  Perhaps it hadn’t been Fahla who helped Rahel perform an impossible feat. Perhaps her mother’s spirit really had been with them, brought by the love embodied in a worn pair of work gloves.

  “You gave me a way to bring her with me. I won’t forget that.” She rubbed her thumb along the soft leather and added, “You’re off duty. Andira and I are going to our quarters, and you should rest. I’ll need you tomorrow.”

  “What are you planning?” Andira asked suspiciously.

  “To see Demerah.”

  She shook her head. “I know better than to argue. But you’re taking Vellmar, too. No disrespect meant to you or your abilities,” she told Rahel. “Demerah is a high empath.”

  “Understood. Though she’s no challenge for Sal—um. I mean, Bondlancer Opah.”

  “I said you’re off duty. Call me by my first name. Oh, I need to arrange quarters for you.”

  “Lancer Tal already did. Lhyn dropped off my bag.”

  “And invited her to evenmeal,” Andira added in a stage whisper. “Which she avoided by staying on duty.”

  Salomen folded her arms across her chest.

  “I couldn’t go! You don’t have any Guards you can trust.”

  “I think you didn’t want to go to evenmeal with your captain.” She knew she had hit the target when Rahel dropped her gaze. “She doesn’t bite.”

  “She doesn’t bite you,” Rahel muttered.

  Andira somehow managed not to laugh. “Rahel,” she said in a voice that was only slightly strangled, “did you ever share meals with Shantu?”

  “Drinks, usually. In his private study.”

  “At his house?”

  She nodded.

  “Then you know how to mix a formal service relationship with a less formal one. This is the same thing.”

  “With respect, Lancer Tal, I served Shantu for half my life. When I was seventeen, I’d sit in his office at Whitesun Base and discuss my training with him. It’s not the same thing.”

  “True,” Andira agreed. “This time, you’re on more level ground.”

  Rahel looked startled, then thoughtful.

  Salomen put an arm around Andira’s waist in silent appreciation. Rahel didn’t realize it, but Andira had just mentored her.

  And Fianna was her new best friend.

  Compared to that, changing three thousand cycles of caste law was nothing.

  64

  Twisted

  “I miss taking the magtran,” Salomen said from the back seat of Andira’s private transport. Fianna shared the back with her, while Rahel was up in the front passenger seat. One of Andira’s Guards was piloting them to the healing center.

  “The view’s better from up here,” Fianna said.

  “It’s faster,” Rahel added.

  “I still miss it.”

  “Because you can’t use it like you used to,” Rahel said wisely. “We always want what we can’t have.”

  “A warrior philosopher,” Fianna teased. It was remarkable, the difference in her behavior toward Rahel today.

  “My closest friend is a philosopher.”

  “Speaking of Sharro,” Salomen asked, “how is your little brother? Isn’t he about two moons old now?”

  Rahel lit up as she turned around to face them. “Two moons and one nineday tomorrow. He’s beautiful. He has Mother’s hair and Sharro’s eyes. Sharro says she hopes he has her temper, too, since she can only handle one firebreather in the house.”

  “You have a two-moon-old brother?” Fianna was visibly surprised.

  “My father, brother, and sister all died in the Battle of Alsea. Then my mother thought she lost me after Shantu died and I, um, vanished. So she started a new family.”