In the process she’d picked up enough to know that a lot about the world just didn’t make sense.
The Great Islands, for one, the only source of escape from the burning skies … shouldn’t exist. They traveled a perfect path through the sky, constant and regular enough to set a timepiece to. They had never faltered, never changed, in all the generations who had observed them, as far back as the Imperial records went.
Everything changed, but they didn’t.
No equation that explained gravity could also describe the motion of the islands, and no equation that described the islands could explain gravity.
The world was a confusing place.
She was now faced with another source of confusion, though it was admittedly a little less massive than the mystery of the islands.
The Scourwind twins, the two bratty heirs to the empire—and their friends—were now under her care, which Mira honestly didn’t much care for. Oh, she was loyal to the empire … after a manner. But that loyalty had been stretched to the breaking point when her own armsmen had fired on her, and it had nearly snapped entirely when the loyalists she’d been helping turned on her for the reward Corian posted … but she was still loyal, at an extremely long arm’s length.
The twins, however, were well within that arm’s length now, and frankly she didn’t know what to do about it.
The boy, Brennan, had his brother’s Bene. No, more than that. He’d linked his brother’s Bene.
More than loyalty to the Scourwinds, that connection bound her to the boy at least until he was trained. She’d not suffer an Armati to be wielded by a substandard bearer. Her own Elan hummed in her mind, agreement flowing from the ancient weapon.
That was one thing that only wielders of Armati ever truly understood, that they were comrades in blood and history. Even someone you despised who had an Armati had to be respected to some degree or another. She would kill Corian, given half a chance, but the man had bonded to an Armati in his time … two, if current rumors were correct.
He may be evil, but for his Armati alone he had a portion of her respect.
This brat, however, was another matter.
Oh, he’d linked with his brother’s Armati to be sure. She figured that meant he had depths he wasn’t showing anyone yet, but, honestly, he’d have to soon.
She’d never trained a Cadreman, though.
She didn’t know if she even could, but she was going to try.
Bene deserved that much.
Mira turned back to the work being done on the Andros, noting that most of the large holes had been patched. The new sections were light on armor. They couldn’t exactly pick that stuff up anywhere easily, but at least the ship would be sealed against the cold bitter air of the high skies.
Well, I suppose I have work to do.
Mira made her way back to the ship.
Brennan had his head in the old Fire Naga when Lydia and the other two found him.
As usual.
“Skies, Brennan.” Lydia sounded exasperated. “What is it this time?”
“Just tuning the controllers,” he answered without poking his head back out. “They were a little sluggish.”
Lydia grabbed him by a boot and pulled, sliding her brother out from where he’d buried himself in an access panel.
“Hey!”
“Hey, yourself,” she scolded. “You’ve been spending every waking minute in that thing. It’s not healthy.”
Brennan sighed, grabbing a rag to clean his hands. “Not a lot more to do while repairs are being made. You’re the one who decided you wanted to hide out with this group.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “That’s no excuse to become a recluse. Besides, she’s looking for you.”
“She who?” he asked.
“She, the captain of this ship.”
The new voice startled them all, and Brennan jumped the highest, as the voice had come from directly behind him. He turned to see the Cadrewoman leaning back against the airframe of the Naga, idly checking her fingernails for dirt.
“Stop doing that!” he growled.
“Start noticing me when I walk up, then,” she countered, only then raising her head to look lazily at him. “I have no idea what Bene sees in you.”
Brennan’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”
“Really, really don’t see it.” She shook her head, stepping away from the Naga. “Your brother’s Armati. Bene, that’s her name.”
Brennan’s hand went automatically to the small of his back, where he kept the last thing his brother had ever given him.
Bene.
He tasted the name in his mind and whispered it so softly that even he couldn’t hear it, but he could feel the name on his tongue, and it felt right.
“I told you if you came with me, I’d train you to use her,” Mira said, “and I keep my word. We start today.”
“What? Wait a second …”
“No, no more seconds. We start today,” she repeated. “The ship lifts off in three hours. Meet me here in four. Don’t be late.”
With that, the former Cadrewoman walked off, leaving the four teens gaping at her as she left.
“Sorry, Bren. I tried to warn you,” Lydia said, shrugging.
Brennan sighed, wiping the sweat from his face. “Yeah, well, maybe she’ll have something useful to show me.”
“The captain seems very … strong?” Dusk offered tentatively.
Brennan chuckled. “She’s Cadre. Strong is one of the requirements. I just don’t much like the Cadre.”
“How come, mate?” Mik asked casually, curious but only mildly interested as he leaned on the Naga.
“We grew up around Cadre personnel,” Lydia answered for him. “They took both our father and brother as members. We rarely saw either of them, but there were always Cadre around. They may be great warriors, but many of them were pretty bad people.”
Brennan sighed. “Like anywhere else, any other group, they had good and bad in them. But even our brother—I didn’t have a lot of respect for him.”
“Bren!” Lydia blurted, shocked. “Kayle was a good man!”
“Kayle was Cadre.” Brennan scowled. “He was part of that damned brotherhood. Maybe only a few of them were really bad, but the rest covered for them. It took a monster like Corian before anyone would even whisper that maybe the almighty Cadre were actually human. Even Kayle wouldn’t speak against his fellows, and you know as well as I do that he saw them do things no citizen would get away with.”
Lydia was silent, looking down.
“They’re all guilty, as far as I’m concerned,” Brennan said. “If you cover up a crime for someone, you committed the crime.”
“Aren’t you being a little harsh?” Mik asked, puzzled by the anger simmering in Brennan’s voice.
Brennan leveled a glare at him that could have killed in another world, another time.
“No.”
Brennan tossed the rag down and rubbed his face and hair, cooling down a little.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’m getting all fired up over something that doesn’t matter anymore,” he said finally, eyes glancing briefly toward Lydia. “I’m just really torn on the Cadre, OK? There’s history.”
“Apparently,” Mik said, holding up his hands. “Not my business. I don’t need to know.”
Brennan nodded. “Thanks.”