Renegade ch 3: Beyond the Cage

The arrow-shaped hull of the borrowed Oha groaned as Xlack guided the plane down through thick clouds. Beads of moisture scurried up the windshield, and the gale hissed its irritation at being unable to reach the craft’s occupants.

Curled in Xlack’s pocket and oblivious of the outside world, Rell snored softly, content to be close to his master.

Xlack’s hands fidgeted on the Oha’s steering staves. He was a Protector, one of the four caste-like ranks of Aylata, above Messengers and Defenders and equal with Watchers. Protectors knew every cranny of their districts and rarely left them. That would be a breach of loyalty, a contradiction to duty.

Duty said summons from dubious emperors were to be ignored. Azmet should be Xlack’s priority, not satisfying his curiosity as to what Revel K’alaqk wanted. He should stay at home and call his mother.

If he called her now, she would want to know where he was and what he was doing, and he wasn’t sure of that himself at the moment.

He knew the where. The ship’s instruments reported his exact location along the route to Kobolast, Yakru, capital of the Napix Empire. He was almost there. As he broke through the clouds so far from his assigned home, a network of lush estates and pockets of urban areas appeared beneath him.

It was the why he didn’t want to discuss. She would say if he had the time to chase mysteries in the capital, then he had time enough to visit her. Datasea rumors would spout a million other things, and a lot of them would agree with the previous head scribe.

He hadn’t abandoned Azmet. Vlokem was there. He could handle it.

It would be a mess when he got back. Hopefully, this didn’t take too long.

Ahead of him at the southern edge of the vast Imino Lake, Aylata Tower resembled a pair of wings stretching into the sky, a showcase of sharp points. Perched alongside it, the Emperor’s Palace was a structure of sweeping curves, like waves frozen as they crashed ashore. The Tower both dwarfed and enhanced its neighbor, as if the massive wings were the palace’s own.

As Xlack landed in a hangar at the base of those wings, afternoon storm clouds hung heavy and low. The Tower’s metal and the palace’s foggy crystal gleamed at the touch of the daystar’s few penetrating rays.

Even inside, the air smelled of rain and forest, though the ventilation system contributed a cold, numbing aroma. As he entered a wide, tube-like corridor, Xlack pulled his datapad from a small pocket on his belt, allowed it to unfold, and synced it with the Tower computer.

Welcome, Xlack Ekymé, scrolled across the screen.

Where does the new emperor want me to meet him? Xlack typed.

Before the computer replied, shouts erupted behind him. Turning, he found a guard hopping on one foot, other leg in the air trying to shake off a certain beastling.

“Rell, here,” Xlack ordered and pointed next to his feet.

Obediently, Rell let go and bounded to the spot indicated, though he didn’t take his keen, dark eyes off the flustered guard.

“That creature of yours ruined my service shoes!”

Almost invisible punctures dotted the toe of the guard’s polished, fur-lined boot. Rell roared, and the tiny sound matched his tiny body.

“The pistol in your hand,” Xlack questioned, gaze on the palm-sized, L-shaped weapon held slack in the guard’s grip, “why isn’t it in your holster?”

Smile false, the guard rubbed the pistol’s chrome barrel with his half-untucked shirt. Both that and his open jacket were in violation of dress code. He also stunk of wet leather. “I was just polishing it.”

“If that weapon gets any shiner, it’ll blind someone.”

“We’re supposed to look pristine.” Chin held high, the guard zipped up his jacket.

Xlack’s head tilted, right eye narrowed. “I suppose that’s a valid priority since you perform the function of statues.”

The guard stiffened, free hand clenched and jaw working. “I know Aylata lump guards and troopers in one group and label us useless, but you shouldn’t be so rude. All guards are sons of noblemen, and we earn our positions protecting this Tower and the palace.”

“You think if you were ordered to keep me from entering, you could?”

As Xlack stretched out a hand, every molecule in the vicinity called to his Kinetic senses. His cells returned the greeting, thrumming like his heart but infinitely faster. Narrowing his focus to the guard’s weapon, he altered the pulse in his fingers, an action as rote as drawing a breath, and the gun flew into his grip.

Unmoving, the guard glowered, nostrils flared and cheeks billowed.

“Spoiler alert, you couldn’t.” Stepping closer, Xlack shoved the weapon backward in its holster on the guard’s thigh. “For the record, I don’t think you’re useless. Just unnecessary.”

The guard’s jaw dropped, his inhale audible. Before he could speak, a reply from the computer appeared on the datapad, asking if he would like to be transported to the meetup location now. Xlack’s thumb brushed the accept button, and the teleportation system moved him and Rell to a dim room deep within the Tower’s basement.

It wasn’t Revel K’alaqk who greeted them.

Xlack dropped. As his sharp-tendrilled Ier leapt into his hand, an arrow sliced above his head and burrowed into a wall behind him with a smooth thunk.

Two Messengers faced him with a menagerie of weapons, but neither wielded anything as ancient as a bow. That one stood closer, arm still cocked back from releasing the arrow. Topeca Xaff. Or Topeca K’alaqk now, married to the Ravida’s only son.

She carried herself with more confidence and maturity than she had at her wedding a year ago. Still, no amount of poise on her part would convince him she belonged here, staring him down with an expression that was part bewildered, part wild.

Her voice fell as soft as a feather’s landing. “Yield.”

One Messenger obeyed and straightened into a relaxed stance, hands respectfully behind his back. Petite and dark-haired with freckled skin, he hailed from a similar background as she did, likely her childhood escort and now part of her dowry.

The other, nearly three times her size, stepped in front of her, pistol aimed at Xlack.

Topeca’s blade-like heel clicked against the stone floor. “Yield, all of you!”

She shoved past the second Messenger, and his hands dropped to his sides, grip still tight on his weapons.

Xlack did not lower his Ier.

“You, too, Ravi Ekymé. Sheathe your Ier. We mean you no harm.”

He cringed at her Atetu accent’s rendering of his name, the m too forceful and left hanging without the final, soft eh.

“You shot at me with an antique arrow.”

“You weren’t supposed to appear in front of me like that.” She slung the bow across her slim shoulders, her hair swaying. Such was thick black silk, elegantly bound to keep it from brushing the dusty floor. Her crooked skirt wasn’t as lucky, pooled beside her right foot.

Just walking would be hazardous in that outfit, running impossible. What was she even doing?

The arrow was the only one of its kind here, though the supple wood it impaled lined all the walls, pocked and scarred. Scattered clay pillars and arches hosted torches, the only light source besides Xlack’s Ier.

This was a sparring room, and a Sereh, female of the Aylata race, stood in the middle of it with a bow.

What was he expected to do? Rell, skittish of the Ier, hid in his pocket. The Messengers watched him on high alert. The lady stared, firelight and Ier glow dancing alongside the eerily bright chrysolite in her eyes. The dusty air reeked of sweat.

“What were you aiming at?”

Topeca shrugged. “Aiming wasn’t the point. I was supposed to stop the arrow.”

“With me or the wall? If it was the latter, congratulations.”

“No, I was trying to control it with…” She trailed off and wrapped herself in lightless, mist-like secrecy.

“With what?” Xlack’s eyes narrowed, the right more than the left, but he didn’t bother evening it out.

“With nothing.” She avoided his gaze, and as she shifted her weight between her feet, the delicate chains that spiraled from her toes to her knees chimed. “I apologize for shooting at you. When I asked the computer to make sure I and my escorts were present when you arrived, I should have been more specific.”

Xlack pulled at the mist. “You’re learning to use your Talent.”

Surprise spurted from her, brilliant and quick, but she kept her focus on the floor.

“You were trying to control the arrow with Kinetics,” Xlack pressed, “like this.”

He grasped toward the wall, and the arrow flew to him. The Messengers tensed, but he only held the relic floating above his palm, rocking with each beat of his heart. The larger of the escorts had Fire Talents, as told by his wet-ash stench. The freckled one had Kinetics, fingers twitching as if he might steal the arrow away.

Topeca reached for it, but at her touch, the arrow shattered and rained as a shimmer of dust.

Her face scrunched. “Why do that?”

“So you couldn’t shoot it at me again.”

A whisper exploded in Xlack’s mind. ‘Do not break Topeca’s toys.’

Stillness prevailed, no one stepping out of shadows or pushing through a door. For Revel K’alaqk’s voice to have such an overwhelming boom, though, he must have been near.

Xlack spun in a complete circle. ‘Stop hiding and talk to me.’

‘Why did you not listen to Topeca when she said to put away your Ier?’

‘I was listening. Very hard.’ He still was. Xlack’s senses raked everything.

‘Then why not do as she asked?’

‘I don’t take orders from girls.’ Except his mother. Sometimes.

A laugh crept into K’alaqk’s whisper. ‘Ever wonder why that is?’

Xlack backed toward the nearest door. ‘Says the one avoiding me like I don’t exist.’

“I recognize your existence.” Revel K’alaqk dropped between him and the room’s other occupants. At a flick of his hand, the teleporters relocated the spectating Messengers. “However, you generally fail to care for my opinion.”

Xlack stared. That was the emperor’s ceremonial robe draped loose and open over simpler Aylata attire. It was true then. Revel K’alaqk claimed the emperor title despite millennia of tradition insisting that was not a position an Aylata could hold.

“You call me here, then hide like a perfectly mannered host and have your wife greet me so sweetly in this lovely sparring room. The torches are a nice touch.”

“Delighted you approve.” Framed by one of the arches and hands hiding in the emperor’s long sleeves, he stood in front of Topeca.

Xlack glared. “Women aren’t allowed in Aylata Tower.”

“No women except for me,” she corrected, peeking around her husband. Despite her heeled shoes, her chin came just above his elbow.

The chrome cascades of wire-leaves dangling over her hair tinked, and Rell peeped out of Xlack’s pocket, entranced by the noise and shine.

“Topeca is in a unique position.” K’alaqk’s strong features too easily carried arrogance, a trait that bled into every line of his straight stance. “As am I.”

“So I heard. If the Ravida is deceased, the four Refraction Leaders should be in charge.” Images of his father and his mother’s brother hovered in Xlack’s mind. “What do they say about your position?”

“They have interesting opinions, but discussing those with you is not why I called.”

Ier gripped tighter, Xlack sunk into a defensive stance. “Then get to the point already.”

“What are your goals, Xlack Ekymé? Where do you picture yourself in the future?”

“I’ll be a Refraction Leader, possibly Ravida.”

K’alaqk’s left eyebrow rose, sniffing out the lack of conviction. “Possibly?”

“Or maybe you’ll be Ravida since we can’t all know everything like you.”

K’alaqk blinked the jab aside. “You do not approve of Topeca learning her Talent, do you?”

Xlack’s eyes jumped to where the Sereh sat on the dusty stone floor. Rell happily occupied her lap, nudging her hands in a demand to be pet. The soft white of her sheer arm warmers, cropped shirt, and dangerous skirt reflected a spectral glow in the Ier light, as if she were an apparition and might fade away at the slightest provocation.

Xlack had never met a Sereh without that alien quality, some sense of not belonging to this world, but then, weren’t Sereh prized for their foreign heritage same as Aylata?

With a step to the left, K’alaqk blocked his view. “You do not believe Sereh should learn to use their Talents.”

“It’s not that clear cut.” Straightening, Xlack searched for the words to explain. His mother used her Mind Talents to whisper, and she was far more skilled in that than anyone.

Yet, he recalled the first suggestion his mentors had taught him: still, a bridling of another’s psyche so that they could not move.

“My mother can do that,” he had claimed, but his teacher refused to acknowledge it.

“Grand Lady Ekymé has no use for vulgar tricks.”

He didn’t understand how the same task could be praiseworthy when he did it and vulgar for his mother, but eventually he, too, learned to ignore it when she performed feats propriety said she should not.

His gaze fell to the Ier, watching its glow pour over his hand. He could feel it, though that was also something propriety said he should not admit.

“There are skills Sereh need.” He looked up but didn’t focus on K’alaqk, attention beyond him on the girl and the beastling, sensing her stiffen as he called her out. “Lady K’alaqk has Kinetic Talents, and those are dangerous if left uncontrolled, but she doesn’t need to know how to stop an arrow. She doesn’t need to use her Talents to fight, not unless you’re saying you can’t protect her.”

“Then, you will accept society the way it is and refuse to see how things are beyond the cage in which you live?”

A cage? How often Xlack felt it, watched and judged constantly. It was the price of privilege, and like so many things, was not to be mentioned.

“If I live in a cage, so do you.”

“I have opened the door, but it must be your choice to fly through it.” K’alaqk smiled. “I would send you to the planets Tala and Knalz.”

Xlack’s feet screamed for him to run. K’alaqk didn’t smile and say normal things. His smile was the predator of common sense, and prey fled when in his presence. If this task took him to some planet Napix already controlled, that was a simple matter, but venturing to worlds beyond the empire? That was a job for a Watcher, and that was not Xlack’s caste.

“What about my district?”

“Did you not make arrangements for your district before coming here?”

Xlack didn’t answer, lost in a whirl of details that didn’t line up. Tala and Knalz had protectors of their own, ones the Aylataavoided. What could Revel K’alaqk, new Emperor of Napix, gain by this? Why send someone with no skill in foreign diplomacy to navigate what would become a touchy situation?

“Gather as much information as you can while in their territory,” K’alaqk continued, “especially information on their protectors. I warn you to expect cultural differences.”

‘Don’t send me.’ It was supposed to be a thought, not a broadcast whisper sent blindly to anyone with Mind Talents in the vicinity.

“Afraid?” K’alaqk’s taunting smirk strangled Xlack’s patience.

“This doesn’t make any sense. Why should I care about some far-off worlds?”

Despite what he had said about choices, K’alaqk’s stare hardened as if about to throw a suggestion, whisps of chrysolite twisting, breaking, and merging. Xlack met it, on guard.

“You are an Aylata, pledged in allegiance to Napix.”

“Which does not have an Aylata as its emperor.” Ier folding away, Xlack turned to leave. He was a Protector, and he would return to his district. What would become of the empire if order were allowed to fly out the window?

K’alaqk’s calm dripped from all directions, warm and sticky. “Test me not, Xlack Ekymé.”

Xlack stopped. “I have every right to.”

“There is no Ravida for you to run to and plead a case. If you speak against me, I will destroy you.”

Xlack scoffed. “You’d try.”

“I would not have to. Encumbered by roots of cowardice, you would not even best Topeca. You have been given such potential, but you squander it, preferring to sit lazily in your district.”

Composure fled despite the vice Xlack kept it in. A fight between him and K’alaqk would expand beyond the two of them. Death would reap its fill until it claimed one or both. Yet, the words still stung. He wasn’t a coward, and nothing about being a Protector, a good one anyway, allowed for laziness.

He wasn’t content with only being a good Protector, though, was he? Those ungrateful scribes wanted to get rid of him, and though they had been demoted and replaced, the spot they had prodded was still sore. Azmet was busy but monotonous.

If he were only a good Protector, he wouldn’t have come here in the first place. He wouldn’t now be wondering what these Tala and Knalz worlds were like. He wouldn’t feel this draw to be in the middle of everything, to be key in influencing the future, watching history as it unfolded. He would be happy to sit in Azmet, bored and trying to pry information from datasea rumors and Messengers like Vlokem.

And he would never be a legend.

“Athnak ta tzopo.” The ancient, traditional phrase slid off his tongue before he could truly weigh it, legal words that loosely translated to, “I shall act as you request.”

K’alaqk grinned. “Then you will leave immediately and contact me when you stand on the soil of either Tala or Knalz. I will tell you no more until then.”

Xlack glared at him, half-formed objections swirling around his head, but the desire in his heart vaporized them all before they could reach his mouth. Instead, he called for Rell. Upside-down and back leg kicking as Topeca tickled his belly, the beastling didn’t notice.

Topeca did, though. Scooping him up, she handed him to Xlack with the traditional parting words of her home territory, followed by the more widely used farewell. “Peace be yours, Ravi Ekymé. Never fail.”

As if the phrase were a cue, the teleporters sent Xlack and Rell to the exit nearest their borrowed Oha.

“Completely ridiculous,” Xlack mumbled as he stepped through the door. Nervousness and determination blended in a batter. The planets Tala and Knalz awaited, unaware, and Xlack knew little more than they did.

* * *

When all unknowns are gone and nothing remains to be discovered, we will find the universe a very dull place.

Topeca pressed a finger to her lip, gaze dipping beneath the quote on her datapad’s screen. Three attributions floated in separate, teetering bubbles, awaiting her selection.

She poked the name Ravida Lekon Inzui, and a limbed chevron filled in next to her choice. At her double-tap confirmation, the screen appeared to shatter. Shards faded, and crumbled words rose out of murky darkness: Incorrect. You fail.

Cheeks puffed, Topeca closed the datapad, letting it fold into a tiny square so she could tuck it in the hidden pocket at the wrist of her arm warmer.

The stupid game couldn’t know everything someone said in their life.

“You are adorable when you lose,” Revel remarked, eyes on his own reading material. Topeca paced behind his couch. “Did you make it further than before?”

“No, but there were some interesting proverbs.”

Would there come a time when everything was known? Topeca agreed with whomever the game had quoted. A world without surprise, newness, and adventure would be stale.

There was no shortage of those things in her life now: her husband named emperor, a Protector sent into foreign territory, she being allowed in this place traditionally forbidden to those of her gender. Though she had been Revel’s wife for a year, she had first stepped within this space, Revel’s quarters within Aylata Tower, only two days ago.

The room reminded her of ripples. The curved walls’ pale wood was set with dark grain drawn in expanding circles. On the stone floor, piles of river rocks formed swirls and rings, fire burning above them.

Topeca watched her long skirt tease the flame as she toppled over the armrest of the couch, spine playfully crashing into Revel’s side. “Want to see what I learned today?”

Revel’s silver and chrysolite gaze abandoned cluttered datacharts and slid to her. “Of course, but be forewarned: If your trick fails to impress, I will force you to memorize minute tax laws with me.”

Topeca grimaced, rolling so she faced him and the transparent sheets unfurled across his lap. Glowing diagrams overlapped, and columns of finely-printed exposition squeezed into every space. She couldn’t tell if they truly pertained to tax laws, but such was a subject she had little understanding of and less interest in.

She twirled, feet catching her when she ran out of couch. “You have to throw something at me.”

A suspicious smirk crawled across Revel’s lips as he grabbed the round pillow beside him and lobbed it at her. Topeca tensed, arms flying up in her defense, fingers splayed. The pillow sailed past her hands and alighted on the bend of her elbows.

“Nice posing catch.” Revel patted the cushion alongside him. “Come take a datachart.”

“Wait!” Nervous hands fisted at her sides, pillow fallen and forgotten. “This one works more consistently.”

She lifted one foot, silkily slippered with the onset of night, and stomped. A clatter like shattering rock thundered as a forcefield slapped the tile and rendered a web of cracks.

With a sidestep, Topeca inspected her accomplishment, pride prancing in every line.

“Impressive indeed. You can break the floor,” Revel praised. “Name your prize.”

He lifted a hand, and she took it, the embodiment of a smile as she glided onto the seat next to him. An Aylata equal to her in years and Talent would have considered her trick elementary and poorly executed, but she had made great progress in the few months since Revel had proposed she learn to use Kinetics.

“My prize is an answer to a question.” She leaned against him, head below the hidden scar that traversed his chest. He claimed he didn’t know how he had gotten it. “Protectors don’t do well when you take them away from their precious districts. Why send one so far outside his comfort zone?”

Revel draped his arm across her shoulders. “Do you wish to hear my true motivations or what I will tell the Refraction Leaders?”

“If you don’t already know the answer to that, you don’t know me at all.”

“Hmm, both. Truth first, then. Xlack Ekymé will be useful. If he learns the correct lessons.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“He will not return.”

Her heart pinched, and she glanced up, meeting Revel’s gaze for an instant before her eyes darted aside. She trusted Revel implicitly, yet to hold a Mind Aylata’s stare was unwise. A lifetime of looking away was a hard habit to break.

She bit her lip. “You’re not just sending him off to die? Like my brother was sent?”

“Have you so little faith in me, Topeca?”

“I have faith in you to the point of madness, Revel. Make me understand.”

As she looped her arms around him, a sigh rolled his shoulders beneath the heavy emperor’s robe. The garb was too large for him, generously layered and intricately wrapped. It all but concealed the simple tunic and pants she had always known him to wear.

“Our world ventures through major change. Some will not like it.”

“He embodies defiance,” Topeca admitted. “Some might consider getting rid of Xlack Ekymé prudent, if a little heartless.”

“I want him on our side.”

Timidity softened her words, and the fire’s whoosh overpowered her voice. “Everyone expects he will be Ravida.”

The sentiment hovered over dangerous ground. Revel, too, was a Ravi, a legal contender for the coveted position of Ravida. If he wasn’t emperor.

“They expected him to be older by the time your father passed,” she realized, “but despite that, he has great influence among the Aylata.”

Revel nodded. “He is an icon for those whose weighted opinions sway his decisions.”

“Your plan is to send him away and somehow convince him to listen only to you?”

Revel chuckled. “The way you paraphrase things always makes them sound so ridiculous.”

But wasn’t it? Xlack Ekymé didn’t believe in change like Revel did. He may even have opposed it.

Revel held her closer, and invisible reassurance swathed her like a blanket as she snuggled in. Did he hear her inner musings? It often seemed like he did.

“As it is said, ‘Caution is a great ally, always pointing out the best forks in the path,’” Revel whispered.

Topeca loved proverbs and recited her favorites frequently, but this one was new to her ears. She highly suspected Revel made up all his quoted adages himself.

“What does that mean?”

“There are several ways this could go. It is not always my choice which path we tread, but there are several I will accept.”

Topeca’s hands squeezed each other. “You mean you cannot guarantee Ravi Ekymé will or won’t return. He may even die. And you’d be alright with that?”

Revel’s reply fell gently in her ears like the last line of a lullaby. “Change makes cowards and heroes of us all.”

Even me? she balked, intrigued despite herself. Was she a coward? Plenty of times throughout her life she had been scared senseless, and she wouldn’t want those moments showcased.

However, she fancied becoming a hero. Would she be a legendary Sereh, a name on the tip of every historian’s tongue? She would surpass the great Sereh of old—Lady Arique Smirazi, who was pretty but didn’t really do anything; the deceitful Lady Sibsi Uanik; Lady Aviah Nalavoy, who destroyed everything she touched.

Topeca was learning to employ her Talent. That was a start. Already she could…break the floor. On second thought, that wasn’t such a great beginning.

The rhythm of Revel’s breaths lulled her into light sleep, yet the wedding pendant laced through the top of her right ear was pressed between them. Its combination of her family’s chevrons and the wending flames found in the K’alaqk crest dug into her cheek, reminding her who she was supposed to be now.

She sat up and shook slumber from her mind. “Is that what you’ll tell the Refraction Leaders, that change makes us all cowards and heroes? Xlack Ekymé is their most prized heir.”

“For now, they know nothing of Ekymé’s quest, and they need know nothing. It is too soon to script what they should hear.”

She leaned into Revel again, worry gilding her. “They say when taming an animal raised to despise you, step one is not to play fetch.”

“But a leash or a cage will only cause it to hate you more,” Revel countered.

“You mean to set him free?”

“You said Xlack Ekymé embodies defiance. If I tried to force him to accept change, would he? He must choose it.”

Topeca peeked up at Revel. Firelight played over the curves and angles of his face, adding seriousness to his words. This was an expression she knew well, some blend of teasing and thoughtful, but the ambiance hinted at extra mischief.

His black hair toyed with the light in a way she envied, and never lay flat. Always combed from one ear to the other, it stood in leaning pikes, giving his shadow an ominous crown. Yet, she knew his locks were softer than a beastling’s belly.

“Topeca, why are you staring at me?”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. His expression delved into a priceless mixture of curiosity and insult, and her mirth only grew.

“Revel,” she whispered, smile sweet as she brushed a kiss on his jaw, “I’m glad the Ravida named you Emperor.”

Continued in Chapter 4: The World Disintegrates

Thank you for reading!