“It has been found, in rigorous study of the incoming lancer candidates over the years, that Riiva’s wisdom is perhaps more nuanced than even we may have believed; there is a recognition of their mortality in the speed with which a lancer masters their gifts. Most take no longer than a week, if focused enough and given the proper guidance, to achieve operational readiness, maximizing the decade or so in which a lancer is able to undertake assignments.”
—Former High Scholar and Scholar Suprema of Lancer Development Ylfra Bontour, in a report to the Council of Scholars on lancer readiness
Zaina spent the night in a tiny, white polysynth cell that wasn’t even long enough for her to fully stretch out; the accommodations were spare, with only a doorless hygienic stall and a blanket. Otherwise, her prison was empty.
It reminded her of the cell on Otmonzas, except this one was weirdly clean—too clean compared to the grim, dimly lit bowels of the Celestial Sanctuary. Based on how pristine it was, she guessed the Order rarely had prisoners. For all Zaina knew she was the first person to ever be held in this room.
Morning came with little fanfare. The cell door slot hadn’t budged an inch—Zaina’s stomach loosed a pathetic gurgle. She hoped the Order’s plan didn’t involve starving her.
They wouldn’t do that, right? She gulped. Not unless they thought I had killed two lancers and a High Scholar. Which they might.
A wave of dread and guilt mixed in her chest, forming an empty, sinking sensation. Why would I kill him? He was one of the only two who even seemed to like me. But why would anyone else kill him?
After another agonizing hour of staring at the wall, the cell door trembled and shook. With a groan, it swung open—Zaina jumped to her feet and was met by two lancers, neither of whom made eye contact. She didn’t resist, putting her wrists out to be bound. The lancers led the way.
Zaina was still in disbelief. A High Scholar had died on Zaina’s first night on Kaado. It was related to the Eldritch somehow—it had to be.
Either that or someone’s trying to frame me. But why?
One of the lancers shoved her back, nearly making Zaina stumble over. She regained her balance and scoffed, then walked faster.
The lancers led Zaina to the same open library complex as before. They took the winding path to the room’s zenith, riding the magnet stairs and circular lift in complete silence. Despite her company, Zaina was alone with her thoughts.
So I’m getting a trial, at least. Right? Is that what this is?
Finally, their lift reached the underside of the scholars’ platform. It slipped into one of the lift-tubes and ascended to the surface, Zaina’s heart roaring in her ears the whole time. For the second time in as many days, her fate depended on a meeting with a bunch of strangers, some of whom hated her, going well.
Their lift rose to the surface and lurched as it locked in place. Zaina stepped down—the scholars, perched atop the antler-tree, were already assembled. Something caught Zaina’s eye—her “mentor” stood not ten feet away. Her arms were crossed, but not bound; an exceptionally hateful expression was plastered on her face.
Murmurs broke out amongst the High Scholars. Elest Vae was already shouting accusations. “The girl is responsible—I know she is! This heretic appears to join our ranks, having stolen a High Lancer’s ship and murdered another—and now, High Scholar Nash has been found dead, a heretic’s black fang in his chest! She has come here to tear us apart, and every second we waste with inaction will spell further doom for the Order!”
Another High Scholar, having taken Ardo Nash’s place atop the antler-like tree of cradles, chided him in a soothing voice. “You speak out of turn, High Scholar Vae.”
Zaina strained her neck as the High Scholar detached and floated down. She was a middle-aged Fevolian, with elegant brown fur covering her feline body and regal features. Her voice flowed like a gentle stream over smooth rocks. “As Interim Scholar Suprema of Arbitration until the formal election is conducted, I will preside over this matter.”
This time, Zaina’s mentor spoke up, her voice laced with seething annoyance. “There’s nothing to preside over. Haven’t you checked the footage yet?”
High Scholar Vae pointed at her, red-faced, and shouted, “Silence, heretic! You’re the one who’s responsible if not her! Perhaps you’re playing the long game!”
“High Scholar Vae,” the Fevolian said in a stern voice. “That’s enough.” She turned to the woman. “The investigation is ongoing. Unfortunately—I’m sure you understand—when the fang of a heretic is found within a High Scholar, our first suspects must be those bearing the Mark of the Recalcitrant.”
Zaina raised her hand. “What’s the fang of a heretic?”
The Fevolian leaned in. “Now isn’t the time for jokes, child.”
“I’m not joking. I don’t know what that is.”
Head tilted in curiosity, the Fevolian replied, “The fang of a heretic is the black sword they’re able to summon at will, one of the few weapons in the galaxy that can match a cipher.”
Zaina thought back to her encounter with Beni Gardol when he was under the Eldritch’s control—that black sword was his fang. Fangs—good to know.
“Now,” the Fevolian said, “let us get to the heart of this matter. All of the footage of your homes last night is being reviewed to determine your innocence. The investigation will determine your guilt or innocence, and then this court will make its judgment.”
Zaina was taken aback. “Wait, you all are recording us in our homes?”
Zaina’s mentor rubbed her forehead in frustration while the Fevolian swooped lower to meet Zaina’s eyes. In a low voice, she said, “No, we’re recording when you exit and enter your homes.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s so much better,” Zaina grumbled, but it was just a little better.
The woman interrupted again. “Is there a reason you’ve called the assembly before you had all your evidence together? It seems an uncharacteristic mistake for your usually meticulous selves.”
The Fevolian spoke briskly, annoyed at the constant tangents. “Yes, there is a reason aside from Scholar Suprema Vae’s eagerness to see a conviction, and should I be given the platform I’m owed, I’ll be able to share it with you.” The room fell silent, so the Fevolian continued, “We are here because of Zaina.”
Zaina’s heart skipped a beat. Did they really think she did it? Had she done it? Did the Eldritch take control of her mind or something—no, she hadn’t slept at all, and there were no lapses, it couldn’t be…
The Fevolian continued, “It is just as important where High Scholar Nash was killed, as how. He was studying the Eldritch’s orb—his body, hover-bed and all, was found inside the safekeeping chamber. Impaled by a fang. He was alone at the time—no lancers to guard him.”
Zaina stumbled over her words. “I—I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
“I’m not asking you anything. I doubt you’d confess your guilt if you are guilty, and if you are, we soon shall know. No, you, Zaina, have a profound connection with the Eldritch. You brought its remains here. Did you ever consider why?”
Zaina frowned. Come to think of it, she didn’t even know why she picked the stone up—it would have been better left on the broken crust of Demelia to die along with the planet it took from her. It was almost—instinct.
“No,” Zaina admitted. “No, I didn’t really think about it.”
“I see,” the Fevolian said. “Until last night, I was glad you did; I thought the stone being here, safeguarded by the Order, might be the best place for it—to possibly contain the Eldritch itself. However, it seems containing it may not be as simple a task as we initially believed.”
“I never believed it would be,” Zaina said weakly, “had you asked.”
The Fevolian chuckled. “You’re a plucky one. I see what High Scholar Nash liked in you. However, I fear in coming here, and in bringing that stone, you may have, whether knowingly or not, played into the Eldritch’s plans. There is more to discover—more to learn, yes, and more precautions to take. Sadly, High Scholar Nash was stubborn—not one to strictly follow protocols. Now, more than ever, with the enemy inside our door, we must be vigilant.
“Zaina, I brought you here for one reason—to warn you against the Eldritch’s influence. It may have plans for you yet. Tread lightly, girl, or you will be overtaken.”
