{Gait}

They kept their backs to Korac as he dressed. He unfolded the bundle of clothes and stifled the unexpected urge to laugh for the first time in a week. The Lyrik brought him leather pants. He smirked at her expense. Until he found the shirt. And the boots.

“Executive Warden, I’m compelled to ask—”

“They were the first clothes I grabbed out of the trunk. I’m not doing myself any favors,” Pehton assured with a tone that implied rolling eyes and crossed arms.

Korac frowned at the clothes. The leather pants, Guns N Roses tee, and Kevlar jacket fit perfectly. The steel-toed motorcycle boots, too. Mesmerized, he rolled up the sleeves as deja vu attacked his memory.

“What? No pack of cigarettes in the cuff?”

Sagan’s musings. He wore this exact ensemble and an expensive watch the night he took her for the motorcycle ride in Toronto. Never could he forget how she trusted him that first time. It changed him. “Lucas is stalking my wardrobe.”

At his muttering, Tameka faced him with a glare. “What are you saying about Lucas?”

Right. Without Sagan to vouch for him, Korac risked pissing off the Shadow by speculating over one of their beloved members. Pehton eyed him curiously. But she wasn’t familiar enough with the situation to help.

Later.

He strategically avoided Fury and gestured at the Lyrik. “Is Matt joining us, Executive Warden?”

Her small smile belied a great deal of humor. “I think it depends on how much cleaning up Razor wants him to do.”

Tumu chuffed as he positioned more illuminating wands around the sizable black space.

Iuo rifled through his pack and gave an impressed whistle. “That was a big mess.” He glanced in the Sovereign Ambassador’s direction.

Korac raised a brow and met Pehton’s gaze. “I missed something intriguing?”

The Lyrik beamed with satisfaction. Her tiny body purred with it. “Fury put a hole—”

Tameka clapped her hands loudly. “Right. Changing the subject from my poor decision-making skills. Korac, do you know where Sagan is?”

Her screams died several hours ago, and Korac’s sense of mercy died with them. Swallowing hard, he explained, “I think she’s trapped in the Seam. We kept her grounded, but with the amount of Seamswalking needed of her lately—Not to mention her lack of appetite. That’s my hypothesis. And…” He wet his lips anxiously before offering, “I can hear her.”

Tumu turned from his task and narrowed his gaze at the Icarus. “What do you mean?”

Iuo recorded everything on his pad with studious glances at the faces in the cell.

Fury stared at the floor with her eyes gone feral. She chafed her arms as if chilled by her thoughts.

The sorrow in Pehton’s gaze hurt to see. “Is she… is she saying anything?”

The amount of concern in the room for Sagan tightened Korac’s chest and left him overwhelmed. She touched so many people so positively. This volume of appreciation for one person was foreign to him.

Korac looked Tameka in those wild green eyes and elaborated, “Where ever she is, she’s screaming for me and Rayne. And I can’t…” He couldn’t make his fists tight enough. Puncture the skin. Break the bone. He needed to hurt or to hurt someone. To save her.

The redheaded Progeny’s arms fell to her side. Softly, she promised him, “We’ll get her out.”

The words more than assured him. The Progeny managed feats of astonishing will and capability. If Tameka said they would save Sagan, Korac knew in his bones nothing would stop her. The “we” surprised him. He searched her face, which made her shift uncomfortably. “Sovereign Ambassador, I thought you didn’t approve of me?”

Tameka looked away and shrugged one shoulder casually. “I don’t.”

He detected reticence. It brought a smirk to his lips.

As if she couldn’t hold back any longer, Tameka questioned, “Did you really let Sagan sleep in your bed for two days and forced her to eat prison food? All for her own good?”

Tumu’s brows shot up. Iuo quit typing, invested in the answer. Pehton put her hands on her hips and grinned.

So winning her over wasn’t impossible. Korac gave a single nod.

Tameka clicked her tongue and cursed in frustration. She stormed off to peer at the resurrection casket. Tumu joined her, and they softly contemplated who was in the nacre.

The Lyrik shot Korac a subtle thumbs up. She shipped him and Sagan so hard. And he delighted in it.

Iuo pointed to the casket. “So, Tumu, do you know who this could be?”

The decompressed Tritan shook his head as he gazed at it. He recited the same tagline Remorse told Korac about the prisoner in the big cell. “‘So deadly, he isn’t allowed space. So clever, he isn’t permitted interaction. So evil, he isn’t granted light. The bottom floor of Gait houses the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy.’”

“Nox?!” Tameka snapped up as if slapped.

Pehton was in the middle of adjusting her armor to allow more black skin to breathe. At Fury’s question, she nodded solemnly. “That’s the most likely contender.” She startled anxiously and checked her palm. “That’s Matt. He’s outside. Tumu, grant him access to the big cell for me.”

The Tritan followed and grumbled, “I was a Primary once, I’ll have you know.”

As the lift took them up, Pehton beamed in his face. “I remember. You caused quite a lot of trouble. And I liked you very much.”

A lot of trouble, indeed. The Icarean General never forgot the tales of Primary Tumu and his opposition to all things traditionally Tritan. Korac developed an allergy to the race. They made him itchy. Perhaps those stories influenced his lack of irritation around the Officer of the Third.

Iuo examined the seal on the machine. Softly, he ruminated, “I wonder whose blood it opens for.” He glanced over at Korac. “And why would they lock you in the cell with it?”

“Maybe they want Nox free.” Slipping out of the black jacket, Tameka glared at the Icarus. “And you’re the most likely person to want him out.” She returned the jacket to Iuo and straightened her flattering yellow dress.

Casually, Korac leaned his hip against the casket and shoved his hands in his pockets. Talking to Nox kept him sane these last few days, with Sagan lost and in need of his help. But Tameka might not sympathize with that coping mechanism. Testing his theory, the Icarus nonchalantly prodded, “Well, I have been meaning to ask him who he wants seated with him at the wedding. I considered Rayne. The sprite would keep him in check.”

Fury fumed.

Iuo’s black and blue reptilian gaze danced between the two while he pretended to organize his files.

If they wanted Korac to trust in their family, he needed to know where he stood without Sagan around. So, he needled her further. “As a bridesmaid, will you be gracing us with a speech—”

“Why the hell are you still on this planet?” Matt—also known as “human with dead eyes,”—shouted in the thickest Arkansan accent. He, Tumu, and Pehton lowered with the lift into the cell. “Not that I’m complaining. I’m glad to prove to you in person that I’m no traitor.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

He referred to Tameka, who stopped glaring at Korac. Looking thoroughly disgraced, she rushed over to the auburn-haired man for a hug.

The Shadow were so very huggy.

Off to the side, Iuo muttered to Tumu over some assumptions for the casket’s security. Pehton joined them with questions about blood.

Mid-hug, Tameka confessed sincerely, “You were so convincing, Matt. Almost too convincing. You had me worried.”

“And you left a fissure in the Emporium’s ceiling—”

Korac burst out in laughter, and Pehton lost her composure beside him. Impressed, he offered, “You did what, Sovereign Ambassador? I’m sorry I missed it.”

Tumu gazed at Tameka as if considering her. “Peaches committed many impressive feats tonight, much to Razor’s dismay. But it compromised the mission. He’ll no doubt retaliate.”

Matt chuffed and walked over to Iuo. “No shit. He has all the Lyriks looking for you. You’ll have to lie low until we leave for the concert. That’s the window of opportunity.” Then he shot an accusing look at the Lamia. “And you. You were at the annual auction. You saw what happened to Sagan. What the fuck—”

Before the young human finished, Korac pinned Iuo to the wall and pressed his arm against the Lamia’s throat. His voice came in three pitches. “Tell me. Now.”

Quickly, the Reipon Prince told them what happened to Sagan, and Matt filled in any gaps. “Then I pushed her into the Seam. I was trying to help her escape with her chain. It never occurred to me it might swallow her.”

Pehton muttered reassuringly several times to Tameka throughout the retelling. Korac couldn’t see the redhead behind him, but he sensed her shifting in and out of Atramentous. He could relate.

Tumu watched from the side with absolutely no concern. Eventually, he approached Korac and vouched, “Iuo is an informant and a friend of mine. If there was any chance to help her, I’m sure he’d take it. Wouldn’t you, Iuo?”

A chill hardened Tameka’s voice. “But why did you keep this from us? You knew we were searching for her.”

Strangled against Korac’s arm, the Lamia explained tightly, “The footage cut off when they untied her. As far as I knew, he took her somewhere. Which was everyone’s assumption, and it kept my cover safe. I swear I couldn’t know about the Seam. But—and I’m quite hesitant to mention this—I think he may have Ross.”

Matt stayed very visible and very still, with all the tension in the room. Calmly, he confirmed, “He does. And we’re getting her out. Right, Pehton?” The Lyrik nodded sharply, and he elaborated further, “That’s one detail I wanted to share at this meeting. Bethany and Ross are both in the basement. I’m helping them work through some things. But Bethany… Razor had her locked away for the last two years. She’s out of it.”

Tameka stifled some heart-wrenching sound behind him.

“I want to help free them,” Iuo choked out as Korac eased off of him.

The others carried on with more conversation while the war criminal checked into himself. His Sagan. Abused and terrified. Lost without anyone to help her.

Hungry for a kill—anyone—to avenge Sagan, Korac fought to ease out of Atramentous. He wanted nothing more than to massacre Razor, burn his establishments, and dance on their ashes with the love of his life. The Pain Curator tortured her by manipulating her pleasure from pain into something twisted and scorched.

Now she was alone, scared, and crying for Korac’s help. How could they get her out of there? How could she survive—

A hand gently touched his arm. He stifled the reflex to bite it off, and when he turned, Tameka’s consolatory expression rewarded his consideration.

Fury brushed her short curls from her face as she softly explained, “Matt gave her the chain. She’ll get out on her own when she’s ready.”

Korac frowned at her. “What’s so significant about the chains? I never asked Sagan about it.”

Tameka held out her own and let him reach for it. The tiny blue prism looked familiar—Wait. It was fluid. It was—

“Rayne’s blood,” Tameka whispered. Presumably so Iuo and Tumu couldn’t hear. But the cell wasn’t big enough for that.

He darted his gaze in their direction and shook his head to warn her. This was a tiny Pretiosum Cruor. It preserved the nanites in Rayne’s blood. With this in Sagan’s possession, she might restore to full capacity and escape.

The weight on Korac’s heart lifted slightly, and he smiled.

Tameka almost—There it was. The tiniest lift to her lips.

Wow. Today was a day for miracles.

Matt finished explaining, “…I’ll shut down security and let you in. Wait until we leave for the Night Rayne show before you free the Numbered.”

Tameka scoffed, “The what show?!”

Iuo elaborated with a little reticence, “It’s a band that Razor’s complained about incessantly. For good reason. They keep killing off his clientele. Very publicly, they announced their last show and invited people from around the Vast Collective to execute them for the finale.”

The redheaded woman blinked, bewildered. “Okay.”

It honestly sounded like Korac’s kind of show. But the white hats weren’t the right crowd to—

“Actually, I love their music.” Pehton grinned. “And I’m impressed with their business model.”

Yes. The Executive Warden just earned her invitation to the wedding.

Returning to their priorities, the Lyrik snapped her fingers. “Wait, Matt, you said once we freed the Numbered you’d take care of them. What did you mean by that?”

“Oh, yeah.” The freckled human held up a collection of drives. “IDs, money, and access to a secure villa on Reipon where they can stay.”

That was quite the collection of resources for a human in the Vast Collective. No wonder Sagan chose Matt to partner with her on this mission.

Iuo looked surprised at that. Impressed, even. “How could you afford—Oh? Oh, wow.” The answer must have dawned on him. His eyes widened, and he gazed at the human with respect.

Tameka frowned, glancing between the two. “What?”

Tumu looked up from the casket’s seal and addressed Matt with high esteem, “If Razor knew what you spent your earnings on…”

“He’d feed me to his clients. I know.” The young man beamed, pleased with himself. A sentiment Korac understood entirely. Matt looked thoughtful before adding, “There’s something else everyone should know. Razor’s leaving Triss at the Emporium because she’s pregnant, and he didn’t want to endanger her.”

The woman known for enforcing labor mandates on the Prisonborne children reproduced.

With the Pain Curator.

After everything Korac endured in his childhood at her mercy, he could only school his reaction and watch the room process the information.

Pehton became a statue, stony and cold.

Tameka’s tawny complexion turned ashen. A little green, even.

Matt shook his head reassuringly and dismissed her reservations with a wave. “She’s fine, Tameka. She recovered just fine. You didn’t hurt her.”

However the Sovereign Ambassador harmed Triss, Korac was sad he missed it.

Pehton practically snarled, “I wished you’d killed her after the atrocities she allowed to traumatize most of the Prisonborne as children.”

“It has a certain irony to it,” Tumu confessed with a light frown. “She enabled that business even against Enki’s wishes. Unfortunately, that was before we allowed ourselves to enact Collective-wide laws then.”

That’s right. Even the children of Gait heard the rumors of Tumu’s protests against it. Loud ones that may or may not have contributed to his second demotion from Eminent to Officer. Korac glanced at the Tritan to consider him, only to find the man staring intently back. When their eyes met, they both glanced away.

Iuo nodded along before adding, “And even when legislation came before the Tribunal, Triss went all the way to Enki to contest it. Many believed the former Executive Warden acted on Razor’s behalf. I suppose now we know it was true.”

Rubbing her temples, Tameka groaned. “I promise I want to know more about this conversation, but I don’t think my brain cells can handle anymore info dumps.”

Korac changed the subject before it could delve into his personal history. “Executive Warden, what about Remorse?”

Tameka groaned again, and he offered her an apologetic shrug.

Pehton looked around the group. “I told mostly everyone here but Matt and Iuo. Remorse is the Primary from Nox’s Verse—”

“Allegedly,” Tumu muttered from the floor beneath the machine.

“—He was stalking Korac and Sagan at the prison. He opened a conduit to Enki into the cell for access. But now he’s gone, and it’s closed. I checked.”

Fury talked over their reactions. “Are there any other items on the agenda we should cover? Elden, there’s too much happening.”

Matt leaned back against a wall. His empty eyes scanned the room. Korac suspected they saw more than skin. The human agreed. “This was more information than I expected. And I just got here.”

Pehton blurted, “Korac and I still need to interview Karter and Para regarding Inanis and if they know anything of the Atheneum. And once we’re done here, I think you and I should explore Enki for Celindria’s lab, Tameka. It’s time to end this game of hers.”

At the mention of Karter’s name, Tumu gave Korac another suspicious glance. But once the Executive Warden finished reciting pending actions, the Tritan climbed out from under the casket and took to the center of the throng. Expectantly, Iuo retrieved his stenography tablet, but Tumu grimly shook his head.

“Razor is Inanis.”

The man in the white suit from Korac and Pehton’s memories. All over Triss. The one responsible for all those missing children.

Kerosene filled the air.

Tameka gasped, “Pehton…”

Iuo stepped back from the Lyrik, whose feathers caught fire. The Siren’s Gale. A rare ability. Korac was intimately familiar with the Lyrik who coined it. He never knew another to harness it.

Choked with rage and tears, Pehton melted down. Her body trembled with unfinished grief and diminishing hope. “All this time… Over a million years I subjected myself to him. He knew I wanted to find my kids. And it was Razor all this time.”

Tumu watched her with pity in his voids.

Korac cautiously approached the Lyrik with his hands out. “Executive Warden. Don’t implode here. I vow to guarantee you one stellar opening to take him out. I’ll hold the bastard down for you. But we can’t free the Numbered without you.”

Matt quietly added, “He’s right. There’s at least a hundred people in that basement. And you’re the only other person with control over the Lyriki guard.”

“Please, Pehton.” Tameka approached her. “I promise we’ll help you find your kids.”

“They’re in Enki.”

They all turned stiffly to Tumu.

Iuo slow blinked. Stilted and uncomfortable, he shared, “That’s not in our records, Officer.”

Tumu gestured for her to ease. “Pehton, lower the flames. While we wait for Matt to open our window, I’ll get on the comms and tell everyone the truth I’ve traced across the galaxy over the last two weeks.” He nodded over to Matt. “Then we free those people.”

Korac smirked for her. “Let’s fuck up the Pain Curator’s empire, Executive Warden.”

With a determined stride, Pehton walked onto the lift. The flames doused in her wake. “Let’s go.”

They all climbed aboard. Each of them ready to end this, while emotional exhaustion threatened their fortitude. Not including the human with freckles and cold eyes. He carried himself like a man with no trouble sleeping.

As they traveled upward, Tameka asked Matt, “What’s the signal again?”

“Oh yeah. When the pile of dead drones in the alley reaches three, head inside.”

Well, fuck.