Empress Game: The Empress Game Trilogy Book 1 (25 page)

Kayla brought her right arm across her body to block, then spun into her for a fraction of a second. She jerked a backward elbow hard against Divinya’s ribs and stepped away before she could be vulnerable to her knives.

Divinya reset quicker than expected, and waited in a front stance with a look of pure hatred for Kayla to advance.

To her surprise, once forced to employ it, Divinya looked like she had a solid core defense. Kayla took a forward step into Divinya’s space, shot for her throat, and stepped back when Divinya dodged. She tried two more variations of the step and strike, then made her real move. She took a long double-step and trapped Divinya’s leading foot beneath her own. She ducked, coming up beneath Divinya’s forward arm, keeping herself safe with a rising block over her head. She punched Divinya’s other arm in the wrist, forcing her to drop the blade, and thrust her dagger in a strike straight to Divinya’s heart.

Point two.

Divinya limped to the side line, yelling something furious to her attendant, who merely shrugged. The official called them together for the next point. Kayla came to the center, out of breath, sore in quite a few places, and smiling—now
this
was a fight.

The chime sounded.

Divinya lunged, a shadow flashing from one side of the ring to the other. Kayla did the only thing she could: dropped to one knee and extended her other leg out, tripping Divinya over it.

The Ordinal rolled and regained her feet with ease, both knives up and ready. She twirled one while Kayla turned to face her.

Divinya spat. “I can fight your fight.”

“Badly.”

Divinya charged again, fury in the yell she launched with her attack. That passion for blood Kayla could understand. Divinya struck twice with her blades in rapid succession, then shifted her weight for a thrusting kick that thudded into Kayla’s thigh. Kayla came right back at her. She reversed her grip on her knife for an overhand, and when she could see the block coming, changed her angle and punched Divinya square in the face. Divinya bent over in reflex, one hand going to her nose, and Kayla lifted her knee to connect with the Ordinal’s chin, straightening her up.

She let the point of her dagger kiss the base of Divinya’s throat.

Point three.

Series: Princess Isonde of Piran.

Divinya threw her knives down in obvious disgust.

“Now who fights like trash,” Kayla said over the cheering of the spectators, “and who’s one step closer to the crown?” She let her knives fall to the ground beside Divinya’s and gave her a mock salute.

That one was for you, Isonde.

::Well done.::

* * *

“Is this how you run an octet, Senior Agent Rua?”

“No, Commander.”

Commander Parrel towered on the other side of his desk, staring Malkor down with tangible force. Malkor kept his eyes straight ahead, hands clasped behind his back while the director of all Falanar-based IDC octets went on.

“Is this what we trained you for, to have an agent turn traitor right under your nose?”

“No, sir.”

“You’ve been her superior, what, three years?” He glanced down at a datapad. “It says here you specifically requested Agent Nuagyn for your octet. What does that say about your character assessment skills?”

Malkor kept quiet.

“What about your investigative skills? How did she plan her assault while working for you? Are you running a daycare over there in the Oxyard sector? Letting the children run wild doing whatever they want?”

“No, sir.”

“Don’t ‘no, sir’ me,” he snapped. “I want answers. She attacked Evelyn Broch, a woman your octet personally escorted to the Game. How the void are we supposed to keep the contestants safe if you can’t even keep your prized pigeons safe on your own watch?” Commander Parrel made a sound of disgust. “If it gets out that we not only failed to keep a contestant’s attendant safe, but actually attacked her ourselves, there’ll be panic.” He pointed a finger. “You’ll be personally responsible for the riot that breaks out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bah!” Parrel sat down at his desk, his chair creaking in response to the abrupt motion. He lifted the datapad that contained Malkor’s report of the event. The altered report of events.

“This toxin. Has it been identified yet?”

“Doctor Toble believes he has it narrowed down to a combination of two. Both of which he’s treating for now.”

“And where did Agent Nuagyn acquire the substance?”

“We’re still tracking that down, sir. I believe it was off-world, during our last mission to Ocha.” More than likely she’d acquired it on the slum side of Altair Tri when the octet had landed for the start of this horrific debacle. Then again, their official travel log hadn’t included a stop to Altair Tri.

Damn you, Janeen.

When he caught up with her, there would be some swift, immediate and severe retribution exacted on Isonde’s behalf.

“Agent Nuagyn is as yet unaccounted for?”

“Yes, sir. But the majority of my team has been reassigned to search for her.”

“And what of the victim?”

“Lady Evelyn is currently stable, but her body is still experiencing a moderate amount of rigor. All of her minor wounds have been treated.”

“Is she still comatose?” Parrel continued to scan the report, clearly down to business despite his fury.

Malkor swallowed hard, imagining Isonde lying like an out of order bot in her bed, bandages covering her recently reconstructed nose, teeth and jaw. “Yes, sir.”

Parrel skimmed the details, tapping a finger on the desk and leaving Malkor standing in silence. Minutes ticked by before he slapped the datapad back down. “What’s our story, then?”

“Last night Princess Isonde issued a statement saying that Evelyn had contracted the Virian flu and might be unavailable for engagements for some time.”

“Good. At least you did one thing right. We’ll stick with that. The IDC and Agent Nuagyn are not to be mentioned in any of this. I want her involvement strictly classified by my authority.

“As far as everyone on Falanar knows, Lady Evelyn has a bad case of the flu and will be resting in her quarters, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want the rest of your team on board with this ASAP.” He eyed Malkor from head to toe, a gaze that doubted the worth of what he saw. “If, Senior Agent Rua, you can trust the rest of your octet members?”

“I vouch for each of them.”

Parrel frowned. “And doesn’t that give me comfort.” He slid the datapad to the side amid a stack of others and reached for the next. “Do you have more to report?”

I found her, the last princess of Ordoch, heir to the throne we usurped. I know where she is, I could bring her to you. Think of the leverage we’d have. What if we offered the Wyrds not only withdrawal from their planet, but also the two survivors of their sovereign family? What if we used them as hostages unless they helped us?

Or what if instead, we did the right thing by her, after ruining her life so spectacularly? Kept her safe, like we hadn’t her family. Brought her home to her people like I’d promised. Stopped using her as a tool.

“Rua?”

“Nothing, sir.”

* * *

Malkor slammed a fist against the wall once back in his quarters, venting the frustration and embarrassment the dressing down from Commander Parrel brought.

He admired Parrel, looked up to him. He’d studied Parrel’s career while a junior agent, had modeled something of his own techniques and ethics after what he had found there. Parrel had nominated him for octet leader, and had pinned the eight-box on Malkor himself the day of the promotion.

They’d formed a friendship over the years, and in conversations with him, Malkor had heard things said between the words that indicated Parrel was man who understood the need to work outside of the IDC’s rules and regs sometimes, if it meant doing what was best for the empire. He might almost,
almost
, understand Malkor’s current plans and his reasons for going against the direct orders of upholding the validity of the Empress Game.

What Parrel wouldn’t stand for, though, was someone doing sloppy, half-assed work. Someone so caught up in his own plans and machinations that he failed to uncover the betrayal of one of his own agents. Someone in command who wasn’t fit to lead.

His door chirped at him. Stars, not now.

The panels slid apart and Hekkar strode in without a hello. He gave Malkor a once-over. “Visit with Parrel went that well?”

Malkor blew out a breath. “Better.” He scrubbed a hand over his face then thrust the conversation to the back of his mind. Time enough to worry over it later, say, when he should be sleeping.

Hekkar held out a datapad. “I have something that might cheer you up.”

“Word on Janeen’s whereabouts?”

Hekkar’s lips tightened into a hard line. “Not yet, but that’ll come, I promise.”

Malkor nodded. He reached for the pad. “What have you got for me instead?”

“A date with the
kin’shaa
.”

“I thought you wanted to cheer me up.”

Hekkar loosened up enough to offer a half-grin, something of his typical humor returning. “Hey, when one problem’s too big to deal with, you know what you need? Another problem. Boom. See? I’m here for you.”

“Gee. Thanks.” Malkor thumbed the power switch. “Tonight, Yerlany Gardens, nineteen hundred hours.”

“He may not actually be expecting you. At all.” His grin developed full-out. “It’s less of a date than an ambush. He’ll be there with his Wyrds.”

Malkor brought up a display of the gardens, familiarizing himself with details of the layout. “Good work.”

“You know me, only the best.”

Hekkar turned to go, but stopped when he reached the door, his grin fading. “I know you think you should have seen it coming, with Janeen. We all feel like that. Truth is no one could. We didn’t fail her, Malk, she betrayed us. Remember that.”

“
I
’m not saying the trade sanctions were completely unwarranted. Xhido admits to exercising poor judgment during our attempt to subdue rebel forces two winters past.”

Kayla arched a brow, letting her silence answer the Paramount Ruler of Xhido Province’s statement. The weathered skin of his forehead crinkled as he searched for words.

“We could, perhaps, have been more restrained in our use of force on certain rebel installations.” He swallowed, but was quick to add, “Force that was deemed justifiable at the time.”

Most terrible ideas seemed justifiable at the time. “The deaths that occurred in the Qinqian Steppes incident, atop the imprisonment of hundreds of innocent civilians at Rhihadri, weigh heavily against you,” Kayla said. Isonde’s voice still sounded odd coming out of her mouth. It was like an echo, hearing her words in her mind in her voice, then speaking them with Isonde’s. “I find it hard to consider a lessening of the trade sanctions levied by the Sovereign Council.”

In truth Isonde had found it fairly easy to consider abolishing the sanctions altogether, she’d told Kayla. Part of her strategy for winning the Paramount Ruler’s support had been to imply that agreeing to vote down the sanctions was a great compromise for her, one she was only willing to make if the favor was returned. The civil unrest in Xhido had gotten out of hand, but the Sovereign Council had overreacted by laying down such heavy trade sanctions against the province. The country’s economy, crucial to the stability of the entire planet, threatened to collapse under the weight.

“If you would allow me to outline some of our latest efforts to reach peaceful accord with the outlying districts…”

His voice blended into groups of syllables. Damn, her shoulder ached.

She’d come home from the arena this afternoon and collapsed in her bed, still fully dressed. That bliss had lasted no more than five minutes before Toble came to torture her. He had her sitting up with a cellular repair cuff latched onto her shoulder for too long. At least he had the decency to shoot her up with a massive pain blocker first. She’d dozed in that state until he finally released her, then she’d passed out in bed, sleeping despite the fiery throbbing in her shoulder. Then he woke her up to do it all over again.

Minus the second round of sleeping. She could have used that.

No matter how her body felt, though, it was too important to be here tonight, walking in Isonde’s steps, tangoing with the influence-peddlers of the empire.

Despite the focus of her political agenda and her plans to win alliances, Kayla found herself surrounded by a different sort of crowd than she was used to, people she could only term as admirers. These people couldn’t care less about her politics. They did, however, find a surprisingly ass-kicking Princess Isonde fascinating, and for once Kayla had spent more time discussing the fights than her politics.

“Ah, but I see I am boring you.” The Paramount Ruler of Xhido Province’s voice brought her back to him with a start. She laid the tips of her fingers on his dark arm.

“No, not at all. My mind wandered but a moment. It has been an… exciting day.” She offered a sheepish smile.

He nodded, a half-bow that was all understanding. “Of course. Perhaps it is time to take a break from politics and just enjoy the evening in the company of so many.” He glanced past her shoulder to where hundreds of people danced to a multi-orchestral collaboration. “I see others about to descend upon us, I think I have stolen enough of your time.” He took her hand and pressed the back of it to his forehead. “May Jovannah’s laughter lighten your steps.”

As he walked away the nearby pocket of people shifted. Several had seemed engaged in conversations, each enjoying the company of others, but as soon as an opening presented itself at her side they looked ready to pounce on her. On Isonde.

A server passed by with a tray full of delicate glasses and she snagged one. She didn’t even glance at the liquid before downing a swallow. She had people to see, Isonde’s agenda to follow, but the evening felt relaxed. The jovial mood of the crowd entranced her. She was hopped up on pain meds and feeling somewhere between fuzzy and sharp, a place where her brain power slipped and her mind decided not to listen to the burn in her shoulder, the ache in her knee, fingers, foot…