BlackWing: First Ordinance, Book 3 (7 page)

"How will we hire the right ones, then, if the government has so much control?" I asked.

"That's one of the things our money purchases for us—our choice in domestic servants," Kaldill replied. "Names and images will be supplied—we will make appropriate selections."

I'd stopped looking at the city before we made our way back to our new home—I was no longer curious about any part of it—it was a shining surface, concealing a terrible disease.

Chapter 5

Quin

"Here are the images and work experience for those available," Kaldill set a comp-vid before me at breakfast the following morning. I found myself hoping Sal would have mercy on me during training—I hadn't slept well for the second night in a row.

Kaldill pointed out the ones who were hidden agents—Kooper had given that information to him. Out of the twenty or so agents, he and I chose fifteen. His arms were around me while we made our choices; I appreciated his care and concern.

Sal was not sympathetic.

"The enemy won't care that you've not had enough sleep," he informed me, his voice terse and unrelenting. "They'll merely badger you while they beat you senseless or kill you outright."

I hadn't complained of a lack of sleep—he could see the dark circles beneath my eyes for himself. Too many times, I failed to block his blows during that session and ended up limping out of the dojo.

At least he hadn't insulted me while he taught; that would have been too much, I think.

"I don't want anything," I grumbled when Terrett found me soaking in the hot water of the indoor spa at lunchtime. "My ribs are almost too sore to breathe."

At least I'd found a swimsuit among my things, although it had been torture to pull it over an aching body before climbing into the spa.

I'll bring a sandwich
, he said and walked away. Minutes later, he returned with Berel, Yanzi and a plate of food.

Yanzi turned to lion snake immediately and dropped into the water beside me. "Do you mind if we get in, too?" Berel asked.

"Of course not," I said without thinking. He and Terrett removed their clothing and climbed in with me. I should have been embarrassed.

I wasn't.

Justis merely lifted an eyebrow when he found us in the spa—I ate my sandwich while Yanzi, Terrett and Berel enjoyed the bubbling hot water.

I want that, too
, Justis informed me silently.
Just the two of us
, he added before walking away.

* * *

"I haven't seen anything like this since leaving Fyris behind," I said. Berel, Daragar, Kaldill, Justis and I surveyed the building behind our small palace—this was where the servants were expected to stay when they weren't working.

"We will make improvements," Daragar declared. I'd seen what he was capable of doing—he and Kaldill both—while on Siriaa. The building, with cracked floors, no walls between beds and few comforts, was transformed that afternoon.

Walls appeared, with doors to afford privacy. A communal kitchen was built, with new appliances added. New tile replaced old on the floors, with a nice rug in each bedroom. Six bathrooms with extra toilets and shower stalls were added, to accommodate the residents when they arrived.

Last of all, Daragar provided uniforms for each servant—I suppose Kaldill had given him information on each. They would dress in black, with silver trim. It reminded me greatly of what Lissa's palace employees wore. We would have no poorly dressed servants—not only were they ASD agents, but deserved whatever comforts we could give them.

"We'll do the interviews tomorrow—I asked for forty to be sent," Kaldill stated. It would be unwise to appear to pick and choose what we'd end up with; someone was likely watching every move we made.

Kaldill felt the same; we understood that somewhere, eyes were upon us as we settled into our new surroundings.

* * *

Freighter Killshot

Bleek

"Commander Bleek, these farmers immigrated from an infected world." My First Lieutenant set a comp-vid before me.

"Verified?"

"Yes. They only got out of quarantine an eight-day ago—Pykris wouldn't allow them on the planet until they passed their physicals and were determined free of the poison."

"Where from?" I pushed the comp-vid back in Whip's direction.

"Gryphis," Whip shrugged. "I verified the transport myself."

I cursed. So far, this was the best lead we'd found. "Keep looking," I growled. "They have to be somewhere. I heard from Cayetes this morning. He has something special planned for any world found harboring Vogeffa II's refugees."

"I understand." Whip dropped his gaze. Cayetes always had something special planned for those he considered betrayers. Without further comment, he lifted the comp-vid and walked out of my temporary office aboard the freighter.

* * *

Quin

At least we went through stretching patterns the following day during training. I'd slept better the night before—Daragar had seen to it by placing a healing sleep. I suspected he'd eased my bruises, too, but didn't want to point that out to Salidar in case he decided to do a repeat of the previous day.

"When you complete your hand-fighting lessons, we'll start with wooden blades," Sal informed me when the session was over. "You're doing well so far—don't disappoint me."

"It is never my intention to disappoint you, Sursee," I dipped my head respectfully.

He chuckled while I walked away.

* * *

"She passed the test," Salidar took a seat beside Lafe at the small kitchen table and accepted a cup of tea from Terrett. "Most trainees complain when we force them to work after a sleepless night. Quin didn't say a word."

"Do you have any idea of the hardships that girl endured while growing up?" Justis thumped an empty mug on the table before taking his seat. "Those imbeciles in Fyris cut her wings off every spring. She never said a word then, either."

"I hadn't heard that," Salidar sighed. "I won't let it interfere with her training, but that's good information to know. How painful is that?"

Justis snorted his answer.

Tea?
Terrett offered.

"Thank you," Justis nodded.

* * *

Quin

I found Lafe, Sal, Justis and Terrett talking in the kitchen when I arrived there for lunch. "Where are Yanzi and the others?" I asked during a lull in the conversation. They were discussing sparring with swords when I walked in; Justis wanted Lafe to teach him two-blade fighting.

"They're bringing food for lunch, then we'll meet the applicants in the reception area," Sal answered.

"Food," Berel announced as he, Kaldill and Bel appeared. Boxes and bags appeared with them; I caught the scent of apples immediately.

Terrett and I worked with Bel and Berel to put everything away; Lafe, Justis and Salidar set about making sandwiches.

"Cheese sandwich, my love," Justis handed a plate to me. "With crisps and a pickle spear."

"Thank you." I stood on tiptoe to give him a kiss. He hid his surprise well and deepened the kiss for a moment before pulling away and smiling at me. I'd made the first move this time—before, he or one of the others did.

With my cheeks flaming, I scurried toward the table, more than grateful that nobody laughed.

* * *

The interviews that afternoon were thorough; Kaldill, Justis and Sal asked the questions while I sat in a corner of the room, watching and listening.

Everything went according to plan, except for the next to last interview.

Kaldill, we have to hire her
, I sent.

She's not one of our agents
, he began.
We don't have a spot for her
.

She can help in the kitchen
, I said.

Why do you wish to hire her? It could reveal us to the enemy
.

I understand. I still want to hire her
.

She can clean rooms
, Sal suggested. It surprised me that he was taking up my cause.
She can stay in the house—there's a small room at the back
, he added.
That will keep her away from the others
.

I'll ask Lissa to place compulsion
, Kaldill offered a mental sigh.
So she can't carry
tales.

She wouldn't anyway, but whatever makes you comfortable
, I replied.

"You—are you prepared to clean and carry?" Kaldill asked the girl.

"I will do whatever you require." Her eyes were lowered—she hadn't looked at Kaldill during the entire interview.

"Cleaning will be enough," Kaldill said. "You will work for us."

"Thank you, Lord," she mumbled and shuffled toward the side of the room where our new employees waited.

She was the last of our hires—we now had sixteen servants, fifteen of whom were undercover ASD agents.

* * *

"They call me Jayna," she mumbled when I asked her name. I already knew that, but I wanted to make her comfortable. I couldn't tell her what I already knew about her—it would frighten her terribly.

"Do you like that name?" I asked.

"It's fine."

"Jayna, this is your room," I led her to the door at the back of our palace. "It's small, but it has its own bathroom. We'll have uniforms for you soon."

Jayna was little more than seventeen and had already led a drudge's life. That wasn't all she'd been exposed to, however. I was determined to correct that.

"This is mine—all of it?" Her eyes widened as she looked at me for the first time. She was pretty, with deep-blue eyes set in an oval face framed by dark-brown hair. She needed a haircut and a shower, but that could be easily arranged.

"It's yours," I said. "Soap and shampoo are already in the bathroom if you'd like to clean up and get comfortable. You don't have to work until tomorrow."

"Quinnie Bee," Lissa's hands dropped onto my shoulders as she appeared and smiled at Jayna. "Jayna, you will not be able to talk about anyone in this household, do you understand?" Jayna blinked and nodded as the Queen's compulsion settled over her.

"Better safe than sorry," Lissa hugged me. "You'll forget I was ever here," she added. Jayna nodded a second time.

"Thank you," I whispered to empty air.

Queen Lissa was already gone.

"You have wings," Jayna took a step backward. It was then I realized that Kaldill had shielded my wings—and probably Justis' too—from those who'd come for the interviews.

* * *

"I can't believe there are Avii here," one of our agent-cooks declared when I came to the kitchen for breakfast the following morning. "I'm Mell," she held out a hand to me. I took it, as was polite.

Justis had already arrived and wasn't thrilled with the sudden attention he was getting.
She's already had her hands on my feathers
, Justis grumbled. I could see he wasn't pleased that she'd touched him without asking permission.

"No touch without permission," Yanzi said as Mell's hand reached out to finger one of my wings. "Same with anybody. I not touch you unless you want," he added.

"Oh. Sorry." Mell went back to the stove. I released the breath I'd held when she reached for me.

"You were informed last night," the head cook scolded.

"Don't worry—most people are fascinated by wings," I sighed, taking the chair Justis pulled out beside his. "I hope you understand how unsettling it can be when everyone wants to touch."

"I never thought of that. I'm sorry," Mell apologized.

"Eggs are good," Justis nodded at Mell, who'd cooked them.

She smiled, which served to defuse the situation.

* * *

"We're having a meeting with all the agents after training and lunch," Sal informed me. "We'll get what information they have and go from there. We may be going into the slums tonight, depending on what we hear."

"All right," I nodded.

"Defensive posture," he snapped. My hands were up and ready before I even thought about it.

* * *

"He teaches you to protect yourself?" Jayna asked as I shrugged out of my training whites.

"Yes. I wish I were as good as he is, but that takes time," I sighed. "I'd like to avoid the bruises, too, but Lafe says that's a fool's dream when you're training or fighting."

"I wish I could learn those things," she mumbled, her eyes downcast.

"I'll ask, then, if that's what you want."

"I'm afraid I'll get you in trouble." She still didn't lift her gaze to me.

"I won't be in trouble. I'll ask," I insisted. I understood, too, why she would ask.

"Do you know how to read or write?" I continued. I knew the answer, but this was a polite way of getting information.

"No."

"Would you like to learn?"

"Who would teach me?" she snorted.

"Berel is a scholar," I shrugged. "He and I together can probably teach you."

"I would like more than anything to be able to read books," she whispered, her eyes shining. "You know most are outlawed here—some see them as a waste of time."

I wanted to weep at her explanation. Vic'Law, for me, had become a much larger version of Fyris. I wondered at those who ran it—at how short-sighted they were. Yevil and Tamblin had destroyed Fyris in a short amount of time. I resolved to sit with Berel and research Vic'Law's criminal overseers.