Cassiel Winters 1: Sky's End (22 page)

Chapter 21

I pry open an eyelid. Onegin’s fucking killing me. Thanks to his restlessness after my ‘dream,’ I slept horrible. He was in and out of his downcore. Pacing. Mumbling to himself. I guess that’s how mad men sleep.

Come on, be positive. You get to fly today.

Nope. No nerves. No excitement. Nothing.

I head to the privy and put on the one outfit that’s somewhat modest, a shirt that sits just above my navel and a long skirt with slits that I keep meaning to sew shut. Onegin seems especially agitated when I emerge. He tells my new aide to hurry through the door. When we leave my space, he grabs my arm, hard, dragging me with him.

“Ouch! Onegin, you’re hurting me. I can walk myself!”

He’s mumbling something about it being the right thing, his duty.
What the fuck?
I let him manhandle me because I need to pay attention to the route to the hangar bay.

I smell the man sweat, hear the sounds of combat, and my stomach flips. I don’t want to pass by the arena, let alone witness Lor being abused. I try to stare straight ahead, but I can’t because Onegin’s dragging me right into the arena.

That’s when alarm bells start going off.

“Onegin! What are you doing? Let me go!”

Dozens of Thell’eons are already practicing in those barbed razor rings and in incredibly intricate obstacle courses. Some are sprinting, others wrestling. A few take notice, since at this point I’m shouting wildly at Onegin.

I look around desperate for another Kir.

“Prime Or’ic!” I yell, relieved when I spot him fighting with Kell’an. They pause to take in the commotion. They’re breathing heavy and drenched in sweat. The weapons they’re using, whips that fire things, settle on the ground near their feet like pet snakes.

I expect Or’ic to be alarmed that Onegin has brought me here. I relax, confident that he will reprimand Onegin like he usually does. But, after a brief, blank stare, he turns back to spar with Kell’an again. My heart sinks. Onegin, not pausing once to check with his Prime, is hauling me toward an empty ring.

Holy stars!

Thell’eons spread apart to let him pass. Some keep watching instead of going back to their fighting.

I’m in real trouble.
Yup.
No doubt about it.

What can I say to stop him?
Do something!
My brain’s screaming this, but my mind’s coming up empty.

Onegin jumps up on the ledge, hauls me up with one arm, and tosses me easily over the barbed razors, like a bloody ball. I land hard on all fours.

I’m in a ring. In a ring.

Oh, this is real
bad.

“Fight!” shouts Onegin, who’s stalking me in rapid half-circles. I lean back on my ankles, crouched. I can’t believe this is happening.
Why’s he doing this?
Now, now I regret saving his stupid dumb-ass life.

I remember the look in his eyes as he watched that Aeon shake the shit out of me, frozen in time, helpless to help me. And last night, after my nightmare, staring down on me, angst-ridden, confused.

But . . . why would he want to hurt me? Is he ashamed that I saved him? Is this punishment?

No. Or’ic said he’s indebted. He was mumbling something about duty.

Holy stars.
He wants to show me to how fight.

“Onegin! I already know how to fight!” I shout at him, deciding I can reason my way out of this.

But the minute I’m standing, he blinds me with a hard slap to the face. I stumble backward.

Fuck!

I can’t believe he just hit me!

My ears are ringing and my cheek is on fire. And yet, here he is, coming at me, again.

Crazy motherfucker!

I try to block his next openhanded smack with my forearm but am unsuccessful. He makes contact with my right eye. He may as well have stabbed a knife into it.

I fall backward and land on my butt, hard. A spasm runs through my neck, still sore from Aeon whiplash. The familiar sense of rage I recognize as a self-preservation mechanism bursts through me. I can’t believe he’s beating me up! Worse, I can’t see very well out of my eye. Has he blinded me?

He’s bounding around in tight circles, over and over. He goes for me again in one single leap, straddles me, leans over and shouts, “Get up! Get up! Get up!”

I glance around, expecting the Thell’eons watching to be laughing at me or goading Onegin on like the alphas do at H2H on ESE. But they’re simply observing.

Maybe if I show him I have some training he will leave me alone. I take a deep breath and get up slowly trying to buy myself time.

The minute I straighten up, he takes a wide swing with his right again. I grab his arm at the wrist and shoulder, planning to limit his movement and then knock him off balance with my knee. Anxiety’s coursing through me, distracting me. I still feel out of it.

Exhausted.

Before I get chance to follow through, he anticipates my move and prevents me from getting behind him enough to make it work. Instead, while holding on to my arm, he swings around with his free hand and slams my throat. The pain is phenomenal. I think he forgot I was nearly choked to death yesterday.

I drop to the ground on my hands and knees, gagging, my one good eye about to pop out of its socket.

Nope. Just doesn’t care.
I don’t even flinch (I think) when he picks me up by my waist and props me on two feet.

Don’t think about the pain. Get away!

I spin around not caring that he’s about to smack me again. I focus on one spot alone. I bring my knee up into his groin. He leans back, though not quite in time. I get some contact, duck to miss his hand, scoot right under and past him.

Fuck this!

I scramble out of the barbed ropes, frantic, cutting my arm bad in the process, and sort of fall out of the ring.

Why are they allowing this? I’m a sifter!
I get up, thinking it’ll be over, but Onegin’s already leaping effortlessly over the ropes, absolutely ballistic, probably because I’m getting away.

I take off like a stealth dart. I’m not sticking around to be beaten to a pulp.

A roar from Onegin, hot in pursuit, rings in my ears.

Holy shit!

Acid burns up my throat. I run past Thell’eons, who have now stopped what they’re doing to watch. I need to make a sharp right to get to the exit, and then he’ll never catch me. I know I can run faster, based on the mess incident, even if it’ll be in circles on this ship.

But when I get to the edge, I realize that the Thell’eons have grouped together to block my way. They’re just standing there.

“Move!” I scream, almost ramming right into them. But they hold their ground. One pushes me backward. I stare for a moment in shock. He’s not cruel. Not at all. In fact, he motions with his head, encouragement I think, that I should face Onegin.

Stunned, I dart left, rounding three ladder-like obstacles. I glance back.

Why’s Onegin slowing down? The stunning LV star, barefoot in nothing but the loose pants they all sleep in, is striding toward me. Determined. His hands are in fists. When I face forward, I understand why.

Another blockade of Thell’eons.

What’s going on? Why are they hemming me in?

I stop, trapped and panting, searching around desperately for another exit.

I spot Lor.

The exotic man’s fresh-faced, clearly healed from his latest RISH, standing in a ring with his collar on, watching me keenly.
What? No sympathy now?
His keeper stands below him, equally consumed by the commotion.

Onegin’s closing in. Shoulders high, arms flexed, he punches one hand over and over. The sound I’ll soon hear my face make.

“This isn’t fair!” I scream at him.

He stops, pulls up to his full, terrifying height, legs spread wide. “Fair?” he shouts. He laughs meanly. Then he focuses on me.

A moment passes. Then another. The tension of waiting for him to attack’s draining what energy I have left.

“You see,” he shouts, his arms gesturing to my situation. I take two steps back, but a Thell’eon pushes me forward. “You can not run forever!”

He’s coming for me again. Exhaustion overwhelms me. I prepare to protect myself but my heart really isn’t in it. I want to just curl up into a ball and—
Whumpf!
He kicks the air right out of my gut with both his feet, having launched from a great distance.

I never stood a chance. As I sail backward, I kind of let my arms flop open wide. When I hit the ground, my head cracking against it, I think,
thank the stars!
It’s over and I had enough sense not to bite my tongue again. He won’t beat up an unconscious person.

Would he?

As I ask myself this question, it occurs to me that I’m not unconscious.
Fuck!
But I couldn’t move if I wanted to. I’m done. Damaged. Maybe permanently. I worry RISH won’t heal all the damage.

I sense a shadow looming, despite my eyes being closed tight.
Go away
.
Make it stop.

“Stand up!” shouts Onegin, “Get up and FIGHT!” He grabs my arms, trying to lift me. But I remain limp. Why’s no one intervening? He’s going to kill me, for Pete’s sake.

Despite my better judgment, my eyes open.
Yup.
Onegin’s standing over me. Only he’s shaking his head at me. Like he’s disgusted, like that first time we met, and he threw the drink across the room.

I have to turn away slightly, and I spot Lor in the distance, standing in his ring looking at me with something that stills me.

He’s disappointed. In me.

A flash of red blinds me for a split second.

Disappointed. Disappointed.

DISAPPOINTED. How everyone feels toward me. Countless ESE cadets when they are stuck with me at the Academy. Lt. Lazarus. Like the Kirs when they first met me. Disappointed.

Some kind of energy pours into me from what source I know not, only that I’m DONE.

For the first time in my life, my body acts without my mind.

Impulsively, I reach behind me grasping the ankles of a Thell’eon behind my head. Using them as leverage, I curl up quicker and smoother than I could’ve ever imagined and kick Onegin, who’s rubbing his face in contempt, right in the chin.

Nothing can or will stop me. I will fight until he’s finished or I die. Either way, doesn’t matter. I propel myself up to standing with my arms, following him as he falls backward, stunned by my lucky, totally unexpected hit. I land on him, half straddling him, one knee on his chest. I hold on and deliver a punch to his face. I put all my body into it for maximum impact. And I do it again and again and again. And again and again.

I register that my fist hurts real bad every time I hit Onegin. But the satisfaction of hammering his flesh is all I care about. My next strike’s stopped short. I balance there, in his palm, mid-punch, thinking I’ll continue with my left. But he grasps that one too. I struggle to free my fists, screaming rage, now both tightly held in his giant hands when I realize he speaking to me.
What?

“Good. Good. You would stop now.”

Huh?
A moment passes. I will my body to stop struggling against his.

Is it . . . over? When my tunnel vision passes, I glance around, still straddling Onegin, dazed.

Thell’eon are dispersing. It
is
over. Ongein sits up, pushing me off of him. He doesn’t look too worse for wear. My arm, however, is bleeding profusely and my eye’s nearly swollen shut, but, strangely enough, only hurts if I try to move it. Mostly my hand hurts.
Is it broken?
I can’t straighten it out for the pain.

Onegin helps me to standing position as he gets up. I look around, still dazed. Lor’s still staring at me.

I had forgotten about him. He’s in the same spot. His eyes say something to me, though his face is expressionless. He gives me the briefest of nods, before he turns away ready for another day of beating.

Was that a nod? Does it mean he’s onboard with our escape?

Slowly, pleasure washes over me.
Wait until I get a chance to tell him about flying one of their shuttles!
I try hard not to smile.

Kell’an arrives at my side, sweating and covered in blood from a horrible cut that runs diagonally along his chest.
Is that bone? Ew.
I glance at where he and Or’ic had been fighting, but Or’ic is walking away, his back to me, seemingly unscathed. I guess he won.

Don’t worry about me! I’m fine! Thanks for asking!

“I have been ordered to sickbay. I would take you,” says Kell’an.

He tows me along gently. I follow, mute, holding my hand out in front of me. Slowly, as we walk, the awe wears off and the hollowness fills with anger.

“Why did you let him do that to me?”

Kell’an does not respond for a moment. I’m about to protest some more when he says quietly, “I do not believe we could have stopped him. Anyway, it is wise that you should learn to fight. He is teaching you how to be Thell’eon.”

“He just beat the crap out of me! He didn’t teach me anything!”

My accusation’s met with silence.

“Are you so sure of that?”

As I stare at him, I have to admit that I recognize what he’s saying, and that there’s another important lesson here. I should never be alone with Onegin again! I choose to ignore his comment and turn to walk again, but he makes sure he’s always one step ahead of me.

As we near sickbay, I’m pleased to note that my torn nuts still mark the way.

Kell’an surprises me just outside the entrance by stopping us short. “When Thell’eon boys turn six, they are taken from the women,” he says sternly. “They are put through very difficult tests to separate the strong from the weak. The weak are castrated and remain to serve the women.”
What?!
“The strong begin training. Only the best becoming Kirs. I believe it was Onegin’s intention to test you in a similar manner.”

“And you think that makes it okay?” I ask, exasperated and horrified by what he’s told me. “In case you haven’t notice, Kell’an, I’m not Thell’eon, and I’m not a BOY!”