Empress Game: The Empress Game Trilogy Book 1 (29 page)

She shot up immediately. The Not-Vayne who stalked her psionically with Vayne’s touch sighed, disappointment coming through. Kayla gripped Malkor’s arm to steady herself as a wave of sensation flowed downward from her neck.

“You don’t kid around,” she said. It equalized a moment later, the pain blockers settling into place.

He watched her with those gray eyes, clearly doubting his own judgment. “Too much?”

When she thought it wouldn’t send her into a spin, she shook her head. “Just right.” She forced herself to let go of Malkor and stand straight. “I need Corinth but I don’t want to approach him.”

“His strength’s flagging, are you sure?”

She nodded. He pulled out his mobile comm and spoke to Vid.

::Kayla?:: Corinth’s voice. She waved Malkor off and went to sit alone in a chair. She closed her eyes and forced herself to open to Corinth.

He’s here, can you
speak
to him?

::I don’t feel him.::

Wait for it.

The stranger’s voice slipped along her senses. ::What does a warrior like yourself think of when she closes her eyes amid a battlefield?::

Corinth’s shock rocked through her. She’d warned him, but— ::Vayne?:: he said to her, with so much hope it ached in her chest.

No
. She couldn’t hide her pain and the bleeding ache of loss. Not-Vayne had so familiar a feel, entwined with the foreign.
Can you speak to him?
she asked Corinth.

She felt Corinth struggling to compose himself, reorient himself to this new reality.

It’s not Vayne
.

::I know that, Kay.:: He paused, gathering what strength he had. At last she felt his focus split. Part of him separated from her consciousness.

::Who are you?:: he asked the stranger, and she heard it as if he were beside her, having a normal conversation.

::What’s this?:: the stranger said in her mind. ::You have another admirer?::

Inside her head as he was, Corinth heard Not-Vayne’s words. ::I am her ally:: Corinth replied. ::You seem to come as a friend, and we have need of those.::

::I am the princess’s friend.:: The stranger sounded cautious. ::Not necessarily one of yours.:: She felt him near to her, with Vayne’s warmth and desire for connection, paired with something stronger. A telekinetic finger brushed along her cheek, then the stranger spoke again. ::Who are you that she lets you in?::

::It matters only that she has need of me, and I am here. As you are as well.:: Corinth sounded older than she expected, but she cringed at how untrained he felt in his communication.

::Why do you let this young one speak for you?:: The stranger’s voice carried a current of displeasure. ::I would hear your voice on this, not the pup’s. Do you require my aid?::

Corinth forged ahead. ::If you are to be trusted then yes, we do.::

The stranger made a sound of exasperation. ::Be gone, she can speak for herself.::

::Meet with us, and then she’ll speak to you. The interests of three Wyrds cannot be so dissimilar. We could form a mutually beneficial alliance.::

::The last thing she needs in so delicate a situation is the “help” of a rough, untrained, clumsy psionic as yourself.::

She felt every centimeter of the barb’s penetration. Her desire to shield Corinth mingled with his shame.

::It’s not working:: Corinth said just to her.

We need his help. You and I can’t stand against the Ilmenans alone. If we can persuade him to do no more than shield me during the fights, it’ll be worth whatever it takes.

::If you want my help:: the stranger said ::then all you need to do is ask me, Princess. Seek me out. Alone.::

::How will we—::

The stranger cut Corinth off, speaking only to her. ::Open your eyes. You will know me.::

Kayla shook off the lethargy the pain meds had brought and forced her eyelids apart. A crowd swirled around her, everyone intent on their own business. It could have been anyone. Then her eyes collided with his ruined gaze. He held her, his red and lavender stare across the arena like an icy spear in her chest.

It could have been anyone, but she knew it was him.

The
kin’shaa
smiled at her.

* * *

The last series passed in a blur. All Kayla could remember was a group of people congratulating her at the end and asking what her plans were for the evening. Somehow she’d broken away, promising to be at an engagement she couldn’t remember the location of, and made it to the magchute bay. She waited in the giant lobby among people too polite to approach her when she no doubt looked like shit. Conversations floated past here and there.

Dolan had psi powers. And he felt like Vayne.
Vayne.
How? How did the
kin’shaa
, whose powers had been stripped from him,
speak
like her twin? And where the void were her powers? How was she still so useless?

The doors to the magchute in front of her opened, revealing a sparsely populated tube that no one else tried to enter. Odd. She took a step forward, then froze when the occupants’ identities registered. The Ilmenan Wyrds.

Frutt it. She was too tired to wait for another lift and way past caring. One of them pushed the button to close the door but she strode inside before the mechanism completed its task. The doors shut behind her with a
whoosh
.

She met four hostile stares with one of her own, then turned her back on them to contemplate the seal of the door in silence. They could go frutt themselves.

::We know what you are:: came a female voice.

Kayla stiffened, holding her breath to listen. Had she imagined it?

::Traitor.:: The word’s venom leached into her wounds.

Kayla whipped around. “Excuse me?” She stared at Tia’tan, knowing exactly who would have the balls to say something like that.

::You’re Wyrd, but working with the IDC.::

“Speak out loud when I’m talking to you,” Kayla snapped. She clearly caught them all off-guard.

Tia’tan tilted her head back, staring right into Kayla’s eyes. “Traitor.” Her tone dared Kayla to challenge her.

“Who the void are you, to call me a traitor?”

“You’re not Princess Isonde, no matter what you pretend.” Tia’tan’s gaze raked her from head to toe. “You are Wyrd trained. You and whoever shielded you today.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Useless words. There was no hiding from other Wyrds.

The shortest one, Noar, scoffed.

“You’re helping one of the empire’s strongest to win the Game. You’re an embarrassment to our people,” Tia’tan said.

Kayla’s temper shot through the red, outrage provoking her past caution. “I am
helping
my people.”

“Liar,” Tia’tan spat back at her. “You probably helped the IDC in the Ordoch coup.”

Kayla shoved Tia’tan as hard as she could. Tia’tan slammed against the chute wall and bounced off it. She grunted, dazed for one second, before she lunged at Kayla, fury on her face.

The other Wyrds swarmed them. The tall female grabbed Tia’tan by the arm while the two males force-projected, wrapping Kayla’s limbs with invisible weights. Kayla snarled but backed off, raising her fingertips to show she meant to stand down. The invisible weights evaporated when Tia’tan regained her composure.

“How dare you call me a traitor,” Kayla said. “
You
came here to ally with the
kin’shaa
. He raped those people. Your people. Like they were nothing but toys. He’s the emperor’s ally and you’re
helping
him.”

Tia’tan looked furious. “We would
never
help the
kin’shaa
.”

“You are here as his guests,” Kayla said, taken aback somewhat. Her blood still sang with the need for violence.

“As was our design. We—” Tia’tan cut herself off, her gaze flicking to the elder male. They debated something in silence while the other Wyrds held their breath. When Tia’tan finally resumed speaking, she sounded no calmer. “Our plans are our own.” She straightened, shaking off Luliana’s hand. “But we are
not
traitors like you.”

What in space was going on here?

The doors behind Kayla hissed open and the Wyrds filed out, pushing past her. Tia’tan’s accusation filled Kayla’s ears.

Traitor
.

M
alkor found Kayla in Trinan and Vid’s room. The two agents were out on assignment and she sat on the couch in silence, Corinth asleep beside her, his head in her lap.

“He’s exhausted,” she said, before Malkor could ask. Had she read the question in his mind? What else had she read? He shook off the thought, uneasy.

His concern for Corinth paled beside his worry for Kayla. She had a discreet dermal regen patch on her chin and a haunted look in her eyes.

“Toble said he’d be fine, he just needs rest,” Malkor said.

She nodded, not taking her eyes off of Corinth.

“As you do,” he added.

She nodded again.

“You look terrible.” That got a chuckle out of her.

“Thanks.”

He hung in the doorway. Was he intruding? Probably.

To the void with it. She can mind-control me away if she wants to.

The truth of that possibility gave him a shiver.

Still, he needed to check on her, see how she felt. Not her injuries, he could imagine those. It was her mental state he couldn’t gauge, not with all she was going through. He needed to know that he, Isonde and Ardin hadn’t, in their selfishness, damaged her spirit.

He could imagine her throwing that concern back in his face.
“Save your pity, Agent, I don’t need anything from you.”

He took a seat on the far end of the couch, at Corinth’s feet, bracketing the boy between them. “How does he seem to you?” he asked softly.

She smoothed her hand over Corinth’s hair in a continuous motion. “He’s only sleeping. He’ll be… he’s fine.” The protective way she sheltered him told Malkor how worried she truly was.

Malkor contemplated the boy he’d initially regarded as merely a liability. Corinth was intelligent, startlingly so. He’d impressed even Rigger with his tech savvy and his improvements to the Isonde–Kayla hologram design. Without speaking, Corinth had somehow bonded with Vid and Trinan. He’d overcome his sheltered background and faced what must be a terrifying amount of people to protect his sister in the arena. His
ro’haar
, Malkor reminded himself. More than sister. A connection stronger than blood.

“I don’t think they did anything to him,” Kayla said, her voice barely audible over Corinth’s snores. “He said nothing about an attack, only that they tried to penetrate his shielding. They found the gaps he couldn’t see and exploited them. He—” She stopped, choking up a bit. “He apologized. As if he’d failed me.”

She finally looked at Malkor then, her Isonde-blue eyes full of pain. “As if I wasn’t the one who had put him in the situation.”

And Malkor had put them both in that situation.

“Take the hologram off,” he surprised himself by saying.

Kayla’s holographic Isonde-brow furrowed.

“I need to see
you
when we speak of things as important as this,” he said. “She doesn’t know about protecting
il’haars
with your life, or risking everything to win a Game you don’t care about. She isn’t you, Kayla, and I don’t want her expressions. I want yours.”

Kayla peeled the biostrip from her neck. “Even when it adheres to my skin and all but disappears, I feel it, feel the weight of wearing her body.”

He reached out and curled her fingers over the biostrip so he didn’t have to look at the shackle he’d given her.

“I know you hate to risk Corinth, but it’s necessary,” Malkor said. Not that that made it any more bearable for her, or her any more willing to forgive him for it.

He couldn’t remove his hand from hers, and they both pretended not to notice they were touching the other. “Can he hold out for another day of fighting?”

She hesitated as if debating something.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. There’s no one else I trust to help us, Corinth will have to do his best again tomorrow. It’s our only possibility for blocking the Ilmenans.” She smoothed her hand over Corinth’s hair again, her gaze full of concern as it rested on her brother.

“Kayla— I never wanted to use him as leverage.”

She flipped her gaze back to Malkor, eyes narrowed.

“I was desperate the day Isonde got attacked. I couldn’t think straight, and I said the one thing I knew would force your compliance.”

“But you
meant
it,” she said. “You threatened my
il’haar
to get what you wanted.”

Had he meant it? “Yes,” he acknowledged. “It’s too important to give up despite what happened.”

“I agree with you. I would have then, too, if you’d given me time to consider.”

“I didn’t have time.”

She frowned. “You had enough. You should have trusted me to make the right decision.”

He hadn’t. She had trusted him with her life and Corinth’s and he hadn’t given her the consideration she deserved, hadn’t allowed her a choice. “I’m sorry, Kayla.”

“I understand why you did it. And,” she said, cutting him a glance that promised dire consequences, “that you’ll never do it again.”

“My word.”

She nodded, satisfied, and something regrew in the silence between them. The damaged bond strengthened, reaffirmed itself. They were back on the same page.

She stood and tried to lift Corinth in her arms, but got no farther than lifting his shoulders from the couch before hissing in pain. The regen cuff on her left shoulder had started its work, but it would need many, many more hours before she would begin to see any improvement.

“Let me.” Malkor scooped Corinth up before she could answer, and carried him to his bedroom. Corinth slept through being deposited in bed and covered tenderly with blankets by Kayla.

It was odd to see hands that could be so ruthlessly effective with sword, dagger and staff deal so delicately with one exhausted boy.

They returned in silence to the couch. It was the first quiet, tension-free moment he’d had all day. She settled close to him, her thoughts turned inward, and he relaxed back against the cushions. He studied her face obliquely. He wasn’t just looking at the Kayla he knew, the pit whore, the
ro’haar
, he was looking at Kayla Reinumon, Wyrd Princess, heir to the throne of Ordoch. One of the last survivors.