

### Tenets

of

### War

Book III in the Tenet Series

Copyright 2014 Beth Reason

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be copied or resold in whole or in part, either for commercial or non-commercial use. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author!

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

About the Author

More Great Books by Beth Reason
Chapter 1

Wren McKay took a deep breath and knocked on the old wooden door of the small house in the center of the circular clearing in the thick forest. He was the Ogden septad's most fearsome warrior. His skills at battle were unmatched, and when he hunted it was as if his arrows were tipped with magic. He was large and tough and should not be nervous. Yet, he couldn't help it. He knew Tenet was away and he'd have to deal with Mrs. Lorne. Though he'd known the woman for nearly six years, she still scared the tar out of him.

"Da, maybe she's not home?" Beddick asked hopefully.

Wren gave his young son a stern look, then knocked again. He knew they wouldn't be so lucky. Mrs. Lorne's personal transport was parked by the house and smoke curled out of the chimney in the early spring evening air. After a few more seconds of tense waiting, the door flew open.

"What can I do for you, Mr. McKay?" Scarab asked quickly without any preamble.

Wren appreciated her abruptness. Her personality and bearing were that of a hunter or warrior, rather than a wife, and whenever they spoke, her bluntness was familiar and easy. It was the way she looked at him that made him uncomfortable. It was as if she could see every weakness, look into every chasm of his being and find the one thing that could take him down. Not for the first time, he said a small prayer of thanks to the Mother that the tough woman was on his side.

"A sheep has been slaughtered before the cull," Wren explained.

Scarab glanced down at Mr. McKay's children. They looked guilty, but the dark eyed girl was the one who caught her attention. She stared, unblinking and almost defiant, and Scarab had to press her lips together to keep stern. "I see."

Wren looked down at his son Beddick. When the boy only shuffled his feet, Wren prodded him. "It was my idea," the boy blurted out, refusing to look at Scarab.

Scarab knew the children were scared of her. While she didn't care what the adults thought, it was frustrating to have the children think she was mean. She had never so much as raised her voice around them. Tenet told her it was just her "aura", something she couldn't control. Still, she made an effort not to seem dangerous when children were around.

"So it was your idea, was it, young Beddick?" she asked, hoping her voice was soft. When the children took little steps back, she knew she failed in her attempt to appear friendly. Well, to all the children except the little dark haired girl. She was still looking up at Scarab without so much as a flinch.

When Beddick remained silent, Wren frowned. It was important that children learned to take responsibility for their actions. Beddick was already six years old, almost seven. He should have been the one to seek out Mrs. Lorne and confess instead of making Wren beg at the door. He would definitely speak to his wife about having Beddick spend the free day at the temple, and he wouldn't let his wife sway him this time. An entire day of meditation with Mirvena was long overdue. "Beddick, Mrs. Lorne asked you a question. Your rudeness is bordering on unforgivable."

The little girl suddenly let out a long sigh. "It was my idea."

Scarab quirked an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. "Was it, now?"

Beddick piped up, scared for the girl. Mrs. Lorne would tear her to pieces! "No! It was me! I wanted to cull the first ones like Da, so I got us the bows. Don't be mad at Violet."

Scarab was glad the boy spoke up in Violet's defense, but she knew the score. Of all the children in the village of Ogden, Violet was the clear mastermind. She turned her attention to Beddick's little sister, Kenda. "And you. Why do you look guilty?"

Kenda was five and still sucked her thumb, especially when she was nervous. She popped the wet digit out of her mouth and said quickly, "I didn't tell in time," before shoving it right back in and hiding behind her father's legs.

With the few words from the children, a clear picture formed in Scarab's head of what had happened. She turned to the dark eyed Violet. "Violet Constance Lorne, you get your ass in the house this minute!"

The other children tittered at the swearing, but Violet only sighed heavily again. "Yes, Mumma." She began to walk to the door when Scarab snapped her fingers. Violet heaved her little shoulders once again and turned to her friends. "I'm sorry I got you in trouble." She looked to her mother, and when she saw Scarab's eyebrow lift, she rolled her eyes and turned back to her friends and added, "Again." Scarab gave a firm nod, and Violet walked past her into the house to sit at the table and wait for the lecture she knew was coming.

"I'm sorry, Mr.McKay," Scarab said to Wren when Violet was inside. "Tell Tenet the cost and of course we will compensate you."

Wren looked down at his two children. "You two go wait for me on the path between The Sisters while I discuss business with Mrs. Lorne." The kids walked down the well-worn trail to the edge of the clearing and sat down between the large trees that marked the road to Ogden proper to wait for their father.

"I am not worried about the cost of the sheep," Wren said when the kids were settled in the meditation pose. "The culling begins next week anyway."

Scarab frowned. "It's not right. She caused a bunch of trouble again and we'll pay for it."

Wren knew Scarab was a very proud woman. He knew that she felt bound to compensate him somehow, even though he really didn't need it. His wife would no doubt yell and scream about the "demon Lorne woman" and her "inability to corral that child" once again. In truth, he had a soft spot for Violet. He found her to not only be a good mix of her parents, but an excellent influence on his children. His wife spoiled Beddick and Kenda, and if they didn't start toughening up, there would be dire consequences in their future.

"We begin the cull next week. I believe that if young Miss Violet were to come and help card the wool for a day, that should be compensation enough."

Scarab didn't smile, but her eyes twinkled again. "Yes, Mr. McKay, I believe that is just the punishment for the crime." Violet would hate it. She would despise a day of sitting still and pulling the oily wool through the hooked paddles over and over and over. Maybe that would finally teach her a lesson! "You just tell me the day and I'll have her there first thing."

Wren gave a nod. "Very well."

Scarab nodded back. "Good day," she said, and was turning to enter her home when Wren stopped her.

"I just wanted you to know that the kill was clean," he said quietly, not wanting any of the children to overhear. The girl should not have shot an arrow into his herd, no matter the reasoning behind her actions. That was clear, and he wasn't disputing that fact. However, he felt that Mrs. Lorne would be pleased to know what a good shot her daughter was becoming. If the situation was reversed, he would like to know.

Scarab flashed a quick, rare smile. "Was it, now?"

Wren tried to school his own smile. "Straight through the eye, with Beddick's training bow. Not how we usually cull a docile creature, but a respectable kill for one so young."

Scarab knew she shouldn't be proud. She shouldn't feel a swelling of admiration for an action so inexcusable. But she just couldn't help it. Her five year old took down a full grown sheep in one shot. What mother wouldn't be proud? "Thank you for letting me know, Mr. McKay."

Wren nodded. "Good day." He turned and joined his children on the path, wishing the discussion with his own wife would end in a smile as well, and knowing it absolutely would not.

Scarab waited until she could no longer see the McKays on the path before she turned and entered her home. Violet was sitting at the table with her chin on her fist and kicking her foot against the chair across from her. When she saw her mother she sat up.

"It was an old sheep, Mumma," she began in a hurry.

"Zip it!" Scarab said, crossing and taking a seat. She folded her hands on the table in front of her and simply stared at her daughter. Taking the cue from her mother, Violet did the same. The two sat there staring at each other for long minutes before Scarab knew she'd start laughing if she didn't speak. Violet looked so much like her. She had the same dark, serious eyes. It was like looking in a mirror to the past and it never ceased to amaze her.

"Young lady," she began, in as firm of a voice as she could. "That was unacceptable."

"But it was an old sheep, Mumma."

Scarab nodded. "Even more reason to leave it to Mr. McKay to cull in a humane manner. That sheep was not a threat."

Violet frowned. "Targets aren't threats and you let me shoot them."

It was the logic of a five year old. "First of all, a target is not a living creature. And secondly, it was not _your_ living creature to kill."

"But it's Beddick's and he said he didn't care."

"You haven't reached your majority. You call him Mr. Beddick, as you well know."

"But we're not even Celtists," Violet pointed out.

Scarab gave a wry smile. "Changing the subject might work with your Da, but it's not going to work with me. You'll obey the rules of their customs or you'll find yourself without friends." Violet rolled her eyes, and Scarab snapped her fingers and pointed at Violet. "If you roll those eyes at me one more time, I'll snatch them right out of your head and feed them to an alligator!"

Violet couldn't help giggling, and with that one action, Scarab could only see Tenet in the little girl. "We don't have alligators, Mumma!"

Scarab sighed and frowned, looking up at the clock. Tenet wouldn't be home for a few more hours at least, and that was only if the birthing went quickly. He might not make it back from the call until morning. He was much better at handing out punishments and she could really use him right then.

"I got it in one shot," Violet said, trying anything to get out of trouble. She knew her Mumma was always proud when she made a good shot. She pointed to her eye. "Right in the middle like you said."

Scarab rubbed her forehead, frowning at the forming headache. "You can't go shooting things up. People just don't like it." When Violet opened her mouth, Scarab held up a hand. "I don't care what your reason was. Now because of it, Mrs. McKay might just not let you play with Mr. Beddick anymore."

Violet almost rolled her eyes, but remembered the alligator threat. While she knew that wasn't going to happen, she wisely decided not to push Mumma's buttons anymore that day. "Mrs. McKay always says that," she pointed out.

"And one of these days she'll mean it, and won't you be sad!"

Violet would. She liked Beddick best of any of the village children. He didn't pick on her for her Mumma being weird, or not going to prayers like the rest of the town. He just played with her. And he did whatever she said. Violet liked that about him best of all. It would be very boring if she couldn't play with Beddick anymore. "Yes, Mumma," she said, resigned.

Scarab nodded. "And next week on their first day of culling, you will sit inside with Mrs. McKay and Kenda and you will card the wool." Violet's eyes went wide and Scarab bit back a smile. "No, I don't want any arguments," she said quickly before Violet could open her mouth. "You should have thought of the consequences before you shot Mr. McKay's sheep."

Violet sighed heavily again, slumping in her seat. "But I hate carding wool. It's itchy. It gets on my legs and scratches me all day."

"Then wear your leathers."

"And I hate sitting in Mrs. McKays living room. It's hot and smelly."

Scarab quirked an eyebrow. "Smelly?"

Violet nodded, seeing a possible way out. "Yes, Mumma. It smells like burning flowers in there all the time. It makes my tummy sick." She batted her eyes for extra effect.

"Well, that's a shame. I'll be sure to have your father give you some bismuth syrup before you go so you don't yak all over their carpet."

Violet frowned deeply and crossed her arms over her chest. Mumma was really going to make her do it. "I'll get sick anyway."

"Aw," Scarab said in fake sympathy. "Then it's going to be one bad day for you. I guess you should have thought about that before you caused Mr. McKay so much trouble." She stood, satisfied that she'd done her best to handle the situation. "Now, stop moping and go wash up. It's your turn to shred the jerky for the stew."

Violet smiled and jumped up to run for the bathroom to get scrubbed up. She loved to help with the cooking and instantly forgot about her predicament. Scarab sighed heavily and shook her head, wondering how the girl could flip the switch so quickly, and instantly knowing the answer. Tenet. Violet somehow inherited Tenet's easy acceptance of life and all the miseries it could throw their way. Scarab was glad for it. If Violet only resembled her, if she inherited not only Scarab's look but her hard personality, Scarab knew she wouldn't have loved the little girl half as much.

Violet returned and held her dripping hands up for inspection. "Are we using turkey jerky?"

Scarab wiped off the girl's hands with a towel, then pulled out a little stool for her to stand on near their new stove. It took many years for them to be able to afford a real stove, and while Scarab could have easily continued to cook in the fireplace on the rare occasions she had to cook at all, it had meant the world to Tenet. "Why turkey?"

"'Cus' you can pull it in big strings," Violet explained, climbing up on the step stool. "Can we?"

"I don't think we have any left," Scarab said, rummaging in the pantry. "Nope, sorry," she said, holding up a jar of beef jerky and a jar of dried deer chunks. "I think we ran out last week. Deer or beef?"

"Beef," she said decisively. Beef shredded better. When her Mumma handed over the jar, Violet happily took out several large sheets and began carefully pulling the strips of meat into shreds, just as her Da showed her. She liked to cook with her Da better, because her Mumma never said what she was doing or let her stir the big pot or made up silly songs about the vegetables they cut up. "Where's Da?"

"Still on call," Scarab said. People had accepted Tenet as a medic in the area, and though many in Ogden septad still used the old medicines of their religion, they did call him out for serious cases their prayers could not handle. Once in awhile, someone came all the way up the hill from the larger town of Nortaberg and asked for his assistance, and that was where he was that evening. A woman was having a bad labor and the soldiers sent a runner to ask for Tenet's help. "He might not be home until morning."

Violet bit her lip. "Do you hafta tell him about the sheep?" Scarab didn't even bother to answer, just sent her daughter a knowing look. Violet wisely turned her attention back to the cooking and didn't push the issue any further.

They finished the cooking in silence, then Scarab sent Violet to her room to look at her lesson book while the stew bubbled and softened the meat. Tenet wasn't home by the time they ate, or even before Violet's bath. Scarab tucked the girl in and told her one of her bounty hunting stories. Though she never shared specifics, like why she was hunting the person and what they did to deserve it, Violet loved her Mumma's tales of wandering and facing all the dangers of the other country. She'd pepper Scarab with questions, just like Tenet, until her little eyes began to droop. Scarab kissed her forehead and tucked her in, then sat for awhile in their large living area and stared into the fire, hoping Tenet would get home.

Scarab had thought she never wanted a child. That wasn't exactly true, she could admit after the fact. She was scared to have a child. She and Tenet had only been married and in Ogden a few months when she discovered she was pregnant. She remembered how she shook when Tenet confirmed what she suspected. He was thrilled. Tenet was always thrilled with life. And she was utterly terrified. What did she know about raising a child? She was a bounty hunter, a killer. It didn't matter that she had given up that life when she took the contract to hunt Tenet. It didn't matter that she left that behind in Southland when they crossed into the Borderlands. She had been a bounty hunter for eight years, and a cold, lonely, hurt child before that. What did she know about a family?

Tenet did what Tenet did best. He calmed her. He spent the months of her pregnancy soothing, promising, planning and being annoyingly wonderful. By the time she was in labor, she was resigned. Not happy. Not excited. She still believed she would fail. She knew in her heart she could not be a good mother. And then after the pains, after the blood, after the hours of utter agony, Tenet placed her daughter in her arms and everything changed. In that moment, Scarab not only wanted a child, but needed her. She wouldn't even let Tenet hold Violet for an entire day. And Tenet was patient, as he always was, and seemed content to hold Scarab while she held their daughter.

Almost six years later, she still didn't think she was a good mother. She had a very hard time punishing the girl for things she herself found completely reasonable. No, Violet shouldn't have killed someone else's sheep. However, it was slated for culling, and the girl did need to start getting in some practice on moving targets if she was ever to be a sharp shooter. She also let Violet do things that scared Tenet. Part of that wasn't her fault. They lived in a Celtist community in the harsh near-wilderness of the deep mountains of the Borderlands. Tenet had been raised as a privileged child of a very powerful politician in completely different society where technology made life easy. Scarab simply let Violet grow at the rate of the other children in Ogden, and that was something Tenet had a hard time accepting. Their child did not live in Tenet's old world. Violet would need survival skills that Tenet hadn't learned until he was an adult on the run. At age five, she already had to learn them. If they were farmers, she'd be in the fields as soon as she was let out of school for the day. If they had the sheep herds, like Mr. McKay, then Violet would not only help card the wool, but assist with the sheering, washing, dying, and spinning as well.

She had to let Violet do things that scared Tenet because that was what the life they lived demanded. And maybe that made her a bad mother. Maybe she should have tried harder to find them a safer place to live where Violet didn't have to grow up so quickly. But she knew she loved her daughter, and that had to count for something. That had to offset some of her deficiencies. That had to mean something even in their harsh world.

The door opened and Scarab snapped out of her reverie. Tenet stomped his feet, shaking off the mud the night rain churned up. He removed his coat and shook it out, then hooked it over the peg by the door and kicked off his boots.

"How'd it turn out?"

Tenet turned and looked at his wife. He figured she would long since be in bed, and was greatly relieved she waited up for him. He opened his arms and she didn't hesitated to walk into them.

"You're shaking," Scarab said quietly.

Tenet squeezed his eyes shut and held her tighter, drawing from her strength to take out the bitter reality of the day. "It did not go well," he said quietly.

He didn't need to explain further. His tone of voice told her that least one of the parties died, either the mother or the baby, and maybe both. Scarab knew how deeply Tenet felt each loss, how much he would beat himself up for it, and she squeezed him tightly to her. She could tell him that he did the best he could. She could once again point out that it wasn't his fault. She could explain that sometimes these things just happened and no one could have prevented it. But she had learned long ago that sometimes Tenet was more like her than he'd ever admit. Sometimes he needed to fight his own demons.

Scarab waited until she felt him stop shaking, then plant a kiss on her cheek. She let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. She hated to see him hurting. She was always afraid that one of these days, it would be too much. And yet, he always rebounded. She pulled away and looked up at him. "Violet's only been sleeping for an hour or so."

Tenet smiled down at Scarab. She knew exactly what he needed. "Thanks."

"I'll warm you up some dinner. Violet chose beef."

"That's my girl!" He gave Scarab another squeeze, then made his way to his daughter's room. He needed to see her. He needed to hear her snore like her mother and watch her chest rise and fall to prove to him that she was alive and healthy. He needed to watch her until he could get the image of the stillborn baby out of his head and move on.

Tenet crossed to her bed and sat on a chair next to it. It was chilly in the room, so he leaned over and put another log into the fireplace, making sure to snap the grate tightly closed after. He wished for the millionth time he had enough money for an electric heater, if only for use in her room. He was positive that one of these days the little scamp would get it in her head to try and stoke up the fire for herself and get burned. She was just enough like her mother to do just that. But so far, she had surprised him by listening to the warnings and she left the fire building to the adults.

"Da?"

Tenet hadn't realized he had been stroking her hair. He must have woken her up. "Shh, go back to sleep. I was just saying good night."

Violet blinked her sleepy eyes. "Did Mumma tell you about the sheep yet?"

Tenet sighed. "Oh, no," he said.

"It was a really old sheep, Da."

He didn't want to know what his daughter had done now. He just didn't have it in him. It was a long, soul-crushing day and he just wanted to stroke his daughter's hair until she fell asleep and then hold his wife and let her make it all better. "I'm sure it was. And we'll talk about it in the morning."

She gave him her best charmer smile, and Tenet knew whatever happened was really bad. "I love you, Da."

Though Tenet knew she said it right then to butter him up and soften the blow of whatever it was she did, he knew she really did mean it. He leaned over and kissed her head. "I love you too, Vie. Now go to sleep. I'm going to go eat some dinner."

"I helped make it."

Tenet smiled. "I know. Mumma said you hooked me up with beef. That's my girl." He gave her a thumbs up, then stood and blew her a kiss before closing the door behind him.

He took the bowl of stew from Scarab and ate it without tasting much, the weight of the day settling in. He was exhausted. As soon as he ate, Scarab stood and took his hand, then lead him to their bedroom. They got undressed and climbed into bed, then Scarab held her arms open for him. He turned his back and scooted into her embrace, needing her strength and warmth to soothe him as it had so many times in the past. Scarab held him and gently stroked his arm, then planted a kiss on his bare shoulder.

Tenet squeezed his eyes shut against the pain inside. "The baby was far too early," he whispered. "I know it wasn't my fault, but..."

"Shh," Scarab soothed. He didn't have to say it, she already knew. "Tomorrow someone will come to you with yellow fever and you'll cure it and remember that you are a good medic."

"I don't feel like a good medic."

"But you are," Scarab said simply.

Tenet took a shuddery breath. He saved the mother, though he was sure she didn't want him to. Her cries would echo in his head for a long time. Still, Scarab was right. That was what he both loved and hated about being the local medic. The cases that went south tore into his soul. Each one felt like it took a little piece of him. And then someone would come to him, near death, without hope, and he'd figure out the right combination of treatments and he'd see the person, happy and healthy months later and feel such a deep sense of personal satisfaction that he knew he would never give up doctoring.

He understood why his mother was a medic, in spite of her untold riches. As the wife of the exalted Leader, she didn't have to work. She could have servants lift the tea cup to her lips, if she chose. But she worked long and hard. While she had many other personal faults, Tenet finally understood why she gave so much of herself to healing. One positive outcome made up for all the things that were missing in her life.

Tenet took Scarab's hand and kissed it. He didn't know if he was really a good medic or not, but he certainly wanted to believe his wife when she said it. She always sounded so certain. "I wish I could save them all," he said quietly.

"I know."

He sighed heavily, then turned to hold her. "But then again, I always have been conceited."

Scarab smiled, knowing he had come to terms with the outcome of the day. She knew he'd still have unwarranted guilt, but at least he accepted the death. That was a hard step for him simply because he so badly wished it would have turned out the other way, as if his thoughts could will the Fates themselves. "You are conceited," Scarab confirmed. "And whiny."

Tenet chuckled, then drew a deep breath. "And you are a stubborn pain in the ass." He kissed her. "Thank you," he whispered into her ear. Warm and safe and loved in spite of his faults, he held his wife and let himself drift to sleep.

Tenet rubbed his tired eyes the next morning, wishing he had gotten just a little more rest before dealing with his daughter. Violet sat across from him at the breakfast table trying to justify her killing of a sheep. She had put a lot of thought into her arguments, he had to give her that. He looked at Scarab. While she gave Violet a firm look and stood with her arms crossed over her chest, a picture of seriousness, her eyes twinkled and he knew she was more proud than angry.

"Really, Da, I just made the sheep go to sleep early. That's all," Violet finished.

Tenet quirked an eyebrow. "That's all? Violet, you took a life. You killed a living creature. You didn't make it go to sleep, you made it go to sleep _forever_. It will never wake up."

"I know that, Da," she said, rolling her eyes. Scarab was right, he thought to himself. That habit of Violet's was wearing thin. "Mr. McKay will tell his wife to chop it up for their dinner."

"And you don't think it's wrong to kill an animal for no reason?"

Violet took a bite of her toast and tilted her head to the side, thinking it over. "I had a reason," she said eventually.

"Which was?"

"Killing it. Now Beddick can have mutton for lunch and he really likes mutton."

"That's _Mr._ Beddick to you, young lady," Tenet chastised automatically. "And young Mr. Beddick's lunch is his mother and father's responsibility, not yours."

"But Beddick..." at Tenet's glare, Violet corrected herself. "Mr. Beddick said they don't have meat in the pantry and he didn't want to wait for the cull."

Tenet looked to Scarab, wondering if that was true. She gave a small nod. It had been a very difficult winter. The horrible weather drove game so deep into the woods that the monthly hunts through the ice and snow were largely unsuccessful. The only reason they had any meat left on the Lorne table was Scarab's paranoid food hoarding, something Tenet determined he would never tease her about again. Scarab had gone on a special hunt off Ogden land in late January, and gotten enough meat to see the elderly members of the septad through. But many were now completely reliant on the dried grains and vegetables, and some were dangerously close to outright starving.

"Violet," Tenet said patiently. "I think it's very good that you wanted to help your friend. But if his Da wanted him to wait another week, then there was a reason. The wool they trade cannot be transported until the main road clears, and it's still icy and dangerous. They do not have room to store all the wool in their home. Things happen on a time line for a reason. Besides, I have seen how roly-poly Beddick is. Trust me, the boy is getting plenty to eat."

"Tenet!" Scarab said, trying hard not to laugh.

"Your mother said you are going to card wool with the McKays," Tenet said to Violet. The little girl nodded and made a face. "Oh no, little brat. Don't go giving me that face. You fully deserve that punishment from Mr. McKay, and my punishment on top of it."

Violet's eyes went wide. "But Da..."

"Nope, save your begging and pleading." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but you must learn the value of life. I believe a meditation session with Mirvena is in order."

"Tenet," Scarab said quietly.

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. Scarab held his stare for a minute. When it was clear he wouldn't budge, she rolled her eyes and turned away. And she wondered where Violet got it, Tenet thought to himself with annoyed amusement. Her look didn't sway him, though, not even the roll of her eyes. Tenet knew it wouldn't be a popular punishment, but he truly felt it fit the crime. While he knew Violet wasn't a mean or violent child and would never take a human life, he didn't want to take any chances. "That's your punishment. And you are not allowed to touch a bow until I believe you are capable of being more responsible." He saw the disappointment in her little eyes and almost caved. Almost. "Now, I believe I hear your friends. Off to school with you."

"Yes, Da," Violet said heavily. She got up and put on her winter fur, then grabbed the lunch her mother held out and left to follow her friends up the hill to the school. It was her first year taking lessons on reading and writing and while the work was boring, it did let her have a lot of time with her friends. Her bad mood didn't last more than a few steps, and Tenet watched her grin and skip off towards the school with her friends.

"Mirvena?" Scarab scoffed. Though she liked and admired the priestess on a personal level, she did not want her daughter joining the Celtist religion.

"She's got to learn to respect life, Scarab," Tenet pointed out.

He was right, but that wasn't the issue. It wasn't the lesson, just the method. "But _Mirvena_?"

"Can you think of anyone better?"

Scarab clenched her jaw and the fire flared in her eyes. "If the old bat tries to convert her..."

"Has she ever?" Tenet finished his own toast and stood, gathering the other plates and cups to bring to the sink. "She didn't even bless Violet when she was born because you didn't want her to."

Scarab scoffed. "Don't make me sound like the asshole here, Tenet. You don't want her to be a Celtist, either."

"No I don't," he easily agreed. While intriguing and interesting to study, Tenet had no belief in the ancient religion at all. "But Mirvena is the leader of this community, religion aside." He rolled his sleeves up and pumped the handle on the spigot until a steady stream of icy water filled the sink basin. He soaped up a sponge and made quick work of the breakfast dishes while he talked. "You know as well as I do the best way to hammer home a point with Violet is through the torture of silence." He grinned and Scarab couldn't stop her own lips from tugging upward.

"Fine," she said. "But you've got to be the one to set her straight if she starts talking about rituals and sacrifices and hocus-pocus."

Tenet stuck out his hand. "Deal." When Scarab rolled her eyes and put her hand in his to shake, he pulled her quickly to him for a deep kiss. "Now. What should we do today?" he asked, grinning at the slightly stunned expression on Scarab's face.

"Fratz and Phyllis will be here soon. I was going to work on fixing the guest room fireplace."

Time marched quickly. "Is it that time of year already?"

"Yep. And you've been saying you were going to fix that up since last time they were here," Scarab said with a pointed look.

Tenet sighed. While he proved very handy at most household repairs, he never got the hang of masonry work. The old mortar between the bricks had crumbled the previous year when the normally unused fireplace was lit for his friend's comfort. The heat spread the tiny cracks and in the middle of the night the collapsing fireplace caused a huge commotion that Phyllis and Scarab found hysterical, while Fratz and Tenet scrambled to gather enough water to put the fire out while still in their long johns. Since then, Tenet had dealt with the problem by simply closing the guest room door.

"Get that look off your face and go see Hans," Scarab said. "He's got the concrete powder. I'm going to go start hacking out the bricks and seeing how many we can reuse."

Tenet snapped a salute. "Yes, sir! Anything else, sir?"

Scarab thought for a second. "No, I believe that's all for the moment. Dismissed." Tenet's laugh followed her into the cold, unused room. She pulled on a pair of leather gloves and removed a hammer from the tool belt she wore around her waist. She swung her arm back, then felt the satisfying sensation of shattering as her hammer connected with the half crumbled fireplace.

Scarab worked all morning, loving the physical exertion. It was difficult for someone used to running down escaped convicts to sit still, and the winter in the mountains left few other options. She always looked for ways to keep herself busy, to keep her body moving. She didn't mind the hard work it took to disassemble the fire place, she welcomed it. By the time Tenet got back with the mortar mix, her arms ached and she was sweaty. But the bricks were all removed and she was well into the task of chipping off the old mortar.

"Go take a break and I'll keep at it," Tenet offered.

They worked through the day together. By early afternoon, they had the base of the fireplace laid and decided to let it cure overnight before building up the walls. Tenet couldn't have planned a more perfect day. While he still sucked at laying the bricks, he liked working quietly by his wife's side on something physically demanding. It gave him the time he needed to get past the events of the day before.

"Think I should bring Wren some jerky?" Tenet asked much later as he cleaned the putty knives.

Scarab had considered it herself when she found out the warrior and his family were down to root vegetables in their pantry. "I think he's too proud for that," she said. "Besides, he's got mutton now."

Tenet pulled a face. "Mutton. Promise me we'll never try that again."

Scarab laughed, remembering the one time she made him try the tough, gristly meat. "I already promised."

"Just making sure you still know that rule still stands." Tenet finished cleaning their supplies, then dried them off with a towel. He glanced up at the clock and frowned. "Shouldn't Violet be home by now?"

Scarab shook her head. "The last few days have been nice weather and she and the McKay kids take their time."

Tenet gave a little laugh. "You think that's a good idea? Doesn't seem to have turned out so well yesterday."

Scarab grinned. "One shot. That's all. One shot, right through the eye!"

"You say it like it's a good thing."

Scarab put her hands up. "Yeah, yeah. Save the lecture. I'd never tell her how proud I was to hear that."

Tenet sighed. He often felt like he was fighting a losing battle on some things. He was about to launch into a lecture when the door burst open and Violet raced in, her eyes twinkling and her cheeks pink from the chilly air.

"Da I saw Grandfather in town today!"

Tenet instantly tensed. He did not like Mordin, the old man who held a position of honor in Ogden society. He was rude, crass, more than a little crazy, and the way he treated young women was unforgivable. "Violet Lorne what have I told you about him?"

Violet's face crinkled into a frown. "But..."

Tenet couldn't help the father's fear he felt course through him. Before Violet could get another word out, he was kneeling in front of her, holding her arms. He gave her a little shake. "You never, ever go around that man by yourself! You know this."

Violet's bottom lip quivered. "But I wasn't by myself and..."

Tenet pulled her close, his hands shaking at the memory of Mordin's roving hands all over the bottoms of several young women in Ogden. They were much older, of course, having reached their majority. But just barely. The Celtists had different rules, different ways. Those girls didn't mind. They had no qualms about sharing their bodies with the unmarried men. But Tenet had never accepted that, and refused to allow his daughter to ever put herself in that position. She was not a Celtist. He would not let her act like one, not in that way.

Scarab looked at her husband and knew why he was so scared. She walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Tenet, not even Mordin would touch a child like that."

Tenet knew that. His reasonable mind was positive of that fact. But he was a father, and fathers were not always reasonable.

"I didn't do anything, Da," Violet said, beginning to cry.

Tenet turned and kissed his daughter. "I know," he said. "I know. I didn't mean to overreact. I just don't want anything to happen to you."

"I know, Da," she sniffed.

"Don't go near him. Don't ever go near him without me or Mumma there. Do you understand?"

Violet nodded, and Tenet kissed her again before reluctantly letting her go. She ran into her bedroom and closed the door.

"It's okay, Tenet. She's fine."

Tenet turned his eyes to his wife. He was good and worked up, something Scarab wasn't used to seeing in his normally gentle eyes. "I mean it, Scarab. If that old bastard so much as looks at her..."

"Shh," Scarab said, shooting a look at Violet's door. "He won't."

Tenet ran a shaky hand through his hair before standing up. He took a deep breath to calm himself. Scarab was right and he shouldn't have overreacted. "I suppose I should go in there and let her know I'm not mad at her, huh?"

Scarab got a kick out of his face. Usually it was she that lost her temper around Violet and had to explain. "I'll start dinner," she said.

Tenet went into his daughter's room and an hour later when Scarab called them for dinner, Tenet bounded out to the table with a giggly little girl on his shoulders.

"You almost hit my head again Da!"

Tenet reached up and grabbed her around the middle, then swung her down and around and gave an extra whirl. "Good! Then maybe it would knock some sense into you!"

Violet's giggle increased and she kicked her legs as Tenet started tickling.

"Hey," Scarab said, coming to the table with the platter of meat and vegetables. "I stooped low enough to cook dinner, the least you two could do is eat it." She was smiling when she said it, though, so neither took her very seriously until she snapped her fingers. Tenet cleared his throat and placed Violet in her seat. They both knew full well what that snap meant.

After they all began to eat, Violet noticed the bucket of mortar and tools in the corner of the kitchen. "Whatcha doin' with that?" she asked around a mouthful of carrots.

"What are you doing," Tenet corrected as he buttered a piece of bread. Violet looked up at him and he quirked an eyebrow.

The girl swallowed. "What are you doing with that?" she said, following his corrections.

Tenet nodded and continued to butter his bread. "Oh, nothing much," he said casually. "Just getting that fireplace fixed up in the other room."

"How come?"

"Because it's broken," Scarab said, shooting Tenet a look. Fratz's springtime visits didn't follow an exact schedule. A lot depended on the weather, and they hadn't really had the best. Odds were he'd get there the following week, but she didn't want Violet to get excited and then be disappointed when Fratz didn't walk through the door exactly when she was expecting him. "Now eat."

"It's always broke," Violet pointed out, kicking her feet and popping a chunk of deer meat in her mouth.

"Broken," corrected Tenet. "The word is broken. It broke, and then it was broken." He ignored Violet's sigh. "And we are fixing it because it's almost full spring. And you know what that means."

Scarab scoffed and dropped her fork, then crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Tenet as Violet jumped up and began to shout excitedly.

"It's Fratz time! Fratz!" She clapped her hands wildly.

Scarab snapped her fingers and Violet dropped back down into her seat. "Great. Great job, Tenet. Now when he can't get here until..."

"I didn't say when," Tenet pointed out. He turned to Violet. "It'll be sometime within the month." He shot Scarab a look. He wasn't an idiot, and he certainly didn't want to hear Violet whine about Fratz showing up late any more than Scarab did. However, he was still feeling bad for scaring her earlier and wanted to see her smile. "Now, eat your dinner and I'll tell you how you can help us get that horrible mess of a room ready."

Scarab picked up her fork and listened to Tenet make plans with Violet as she ate. Apparently the whole room was to be worked over, but she didn't mind. It would give Violet something constructive to do instead of shooting sheep. Even if she was a good shot. Besides, it may just teach her a little patience. As Tenet spelled out his plan, Scarab became more and more excited herself. It was something to do, and by god she needed to shake off the long winter.

"Can we afford new curtains?" Tenet asked.

Scarab took care of the finances simply because she always had. Tenet seemed to understand that she needed things to control and let her keep track of the money for them. "No, not unless we make them ourselves." She paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. Tenet and Violet were both looking at her with hope in their eyes and she let out a harsh little laugh. "Don't look at me. I told you years ago I don't do that crap."

"You repaired your suits by yourself," Tenet pointed out.

Violet jumped all over that reasoning. "Yeah, Mumma. You sewed up all your suits that the rafes ate."

"Wraiths," corrected Tenet.

"Yeah. Wraiths."

Scarab gave Tenet a wry smile. "Did you know your Da took lots of crafts classes at the academy when he was a boy?"

Violet turned her wide, bright eyes to Tenet. "Did you Da? I love crafts. I do crafts in Mrs. Dinty's class. I like the crinkle paper. Do you know how to make a snowflake in crinkle paper? Maybe we should make crinkle paper snowflakes for Fratz's room! Can we Da? You and me."

"Well played, wife," Tenet said with a twinkle in his eye. Scarab smiled smugly and ate the rest of her dinner while Tenet attempted to explain to Violet that he took survival courses, not craft classes. Of course it was no use and by the time they were washing the dishes, Tenet gave up.

"Fine!" he said, throwing his hands in the air. "Crinkle paper snowflakes it is! Do we at least have enough money for crinkle paper?"

"Oh, we could get a few sheets," Scarab said, coming out of the bathroom. "Time for your bath, Violet."

"I just got a bath last night!" she whined.

"Yes, and maybe if you and Mr. Beddick hadn't made mud pies on the way home, you wouldn't need another one tonight."

Violet's eyes went wide. How did Mumma know they did that? That was all the way back at the school! Some of the kids she knew said Mumma was some kind of witch, that she had powers. While Violet didn't know about all that, she did know that sometimes Mumma knew things that no one else did. Without a word, Violet turned and headed for the bathroom before Mumma used her powers to see what they did with those mud pies.

As soon as the door closed, Tenet was on Scarab, pinning her against the counter. "Craft classes? Now I'll be making crinkle paper snowflakes until my hands ache!"

Scarab threw her head back and laughed as Tenet dug his fingers into her sides and tickled her.

"I don't even know what the hell crinkle paper is! I should demand you sew us up some new curtains just for that!"

Scarab leaned forward, placing her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his waist. "Crinkle paper is just very rough paper that's been rubbed with wax to help keep the chunky fibers together," she explained. "And you can make your first demand any time you want. I guarantee you'll be making the second 'demand' in an empty house!"

Tenet grinned and held his wife closer. He would never make demands of her. Ever. They both knew that. There was a loud splash from the bathroom, then a very quiet, "Uh oh."

Tenet burst out laughing. "Ah yes. The one thing little girls are great at...killing the mood." He smacked another kiss on Scarab's head. "I'll get this if you put the dishes away."

"Don't slip," Scarab called in warning, knowing there would be water all over the floor. "The last bathroom 'uh oh' almost broke my hip!" When she heard Tenet echo the "uh oh" as he entered the bathroom, she couldn't help but smile to herself as she stacked the dishes and placed them in the cupboard. She turned and leaned on the counter and was once again humbled by the feeling of happiness. She was content. And for someone who spent so much of her life in pain and alone, she marveled at every moment. She wondered how it was she went without so long, how she once thought she'd hate having a family and ties and roots. She was happy, no matter how messy it got, and that never ceased to amaze her.

Tenet poked his head out of the bathroom door. "Um, a little help in here?"

Scarab grabbed the dish drying towel and headed to help her husband. And she didn't mind one bit.

Chapter 2

"I'm supposed to come down here and buy Miss Violet some crinkle paper," Tenet said to the jovial storekeeper, Hans.

"Paper snowflakes?" Hans asked with a grin.

Tenet leaned on the counter. "How'd you guess?"

"My own Petta went through reams of the stuff when she had Mrs. Dinty for a teacher." The large man reached around behind his counter, then came up with a small packet tied with a string. "They used up most of it up to the school over the winter, but we just so happen to have a few sheets left."

Tenet nodded. "I'll take it. Also, do you have any cheap cloth? Maybe a scratchy wool you'd discount for me just to get rid of?" He grinned in a charming, hopeful smile that set Hans to laughing.

"Crinkle paper and wool? Don't tell me the missus is starting spring cleaning already?"

Tenet pulled a face. "Good god, man. We just went through winter, not a parallel universe!"

Hans really laughed then. He liked Tenet, liked the boy a lot. And he had a powerful respect born of more than a little fear for Tenet's wife. He often teased Tenet about his wife's womanly skills in the house, and he did it plenty loud enough for the woman in question to hear as she stood just outside the door and guarded Tenet. He always wondered about that, but never asked. Someday the boy would tell him, or someday he would not. Tenet was a happy man who paid his debts upfront, never caused trouble, and always respected the Celtist ways. Hans had to point out to more than one gossipy woman in town that Mrs. Lorne did, too. She even fed half the town through the winter, even though most didn't know their meat came from her hands. If the young couple had their secrets, Hans could live with that.

Hans glanced to the doorway, expecting to see Mrs. Lorne's shoulder at the edge of opening like usual. When he didn't, he raised a bushy eyebrow at Tenet. "Are you shopping alone today then?"

Tenet nodded. "Yes. My wife's fitting bricks into the fireplace. I just came into town because I promised Violet."

"So you _are_ sprucing the place up, then."

"Yes. But I'll be the one making the curtains, if you've got any material."

Hans sighed and shook his head. He had long since given up lecturing the boy on man duties. The pair was happy, happier than many he knew, and if they had to swap jobs to make that happen, what was the harm? It wasn't as if they were breaking the codes of the septad. Now, if Mirvena could ever actually convince them to convert, it may be a different story. "I do have some fabric, but it's horribly ugly."

Tenet shrugged, thinking of the torn, ragged flaps of fabric that currently covered the windows. "As long as it doesn't have holes in it, I'll take a look."

Hans called for his runner, and when the boy appeared, he ordered him to get the fabric from the store room. When he returned, Tenet frowned. The material truly was hideous. There were cross stripes of yellow and brown that decorated a deep red back ground. Hans saw his face and let out a bark of laughter. "I warned you. Never say I didn't!"

"Where did you come up with something like this?" Tenet touched the wool and almost cringed it was so rough.

"Traveling salesman up from Nortaberg," Hans said, shaking his head in disgust. "I got a good deal on some tweed, but in order to get that price I had to take this off his hands. I thought one of the elder women would use it for something, but I guess I thought they were blinder than they really are." His eyes twinkled and his cheeks were rosy red.

"How much is there?"

"Oh, I'd say about fifteen yards, by the look."

That sounded like enough. "And how much does it cost?"

"I tell you what. I'll give you the whole lot and the paper with it for two coins."

It was more than fair, even if the material was quite possibly the ugliest thing Tenet had ever seen, and he quickly shook on the deal. Hans wrapped the material in brown paper, thanking Tenet up and down for finally taking it off his hands. "Just don't let your wife blame me when she sees it!"

Tenet laughed and waved goodbye before heading out the door. He liked the old shop keeper, and noticed the man's limp had worsened. He'd have to subtly ask if Hans wanted him to have a look and see if there was something he could treat. He guessed the man's age at well over sixty, and perhaps that alone was what slowed him down. Still, if there was anything Tenet could do to make life easier, he'd do it in a minute. Hans was one of the few people in Ogden that truly accepted Scarab, and that meant the world to Tenet.

Tenet was just securing the packages into the side pocket of his personal transport vehicle when he caught sight of Mordin walking across the street. His hands automatically clenched and the anger and fear he felt the day before bubbled inside. He took a calming breath and decided it was time to speak to the septad's Grandfather about his daughter again. It wasn't the first talk Tenet had with Mordin on the subject of his little girl, but he was hellbent on making sure it would be the last.

"Mordin, I need to speak with you," he called, trotting to catch up to the old man.

Mordin sighed and closed his eyes. Dammit. He was hoping that impudent little shit didn't notice him. No such luck. He straightened his back and turned, deciding a dementia episode would make the boy go away faster. "Good! It's my page! Run up to the temple and fetch my primary reader." He clapped his hands and held his head up regally.

Tenet gave him a bland look. "So it's going to be one of those days, is it, old man?"

Mordin feigned outrage. "How dare you speak to me in such a manner! You shall be flogged and then meditate for penance!"

"Can it," said Tenet, crossing his arms. "I'm not one of your sheep that's going to buy that load of crap."

Mordin was truly surprised and did his best to hide that fact. That hard girl this boy ran around with was really changing him. He used to at least fake respectfulness. "I do not know what you are talking about."

Tenet leaned in and pointed a finger in the old man's face. "Play your game with everyone else, but you listen to me right now and listen good. I have talked to you before about my daughter and don't even pretend you don't remember."

Mordin frowned. Tenet had spoken to him before, and even if his threat was a good fifteen years too early, Mordin had to admit he was pleased Tenet put so much stock in the well being of his child. He could respect that, and always did. He had not once spoken with Tenet's daughter since. He didn't even look in her direction, though more out of fear of the mother than the father. "Now you see here. I have not so much as glanced in Miss Violet's direction! And that is the truth," he insisted firmly.

Tenet looked at the old man, trying to judge whether he was still playing or not. "I mean it," Tenet said again, trying to gage the reaction.

Mordin noticed that some townspeople were looking in his direction. His life was so much easier if they bought the dementia game. He had his food delivered every day and pretty young women lined up to do their duty for an old man. He never had to chop his own wood or hunt his own food. He was allowed to wile away his days however he saw fit, and that life worked for him. But the young man in front of him meant business, and that could not be brushed aside. He leaned in and whispered, "Dammit young man, I'm telling you the truth. I promised, and I keep my promises. I'm still a man of honor, you know. Don't think I take that responsibility lightly! I did not touch your daughter. I did not speak with your daughter. I promised, and whatever else you think of me, you must believe that is a promise I intend to keep!"

Tenet knew he was telling the truth. Mordin was crafty and sly, but he was no liar. The man honestly didn't speak to Violet the day before and something in Tenet uncoiled and he breathed a sigh of relief. "See that you do," Tenet tried to say firmly, but the relief made him smile and take the bite out of any threat he tried to imply. He thumped Mordin on the shoulder. "Carry on then."

Mordin rolled his eyes and turned down the street. Remembering the townspeople, he called over his shoulder, "And don't forget the peach cobbler!" He caught one woman shaking her head sadly in his peripheral vision and knew his doddering old man act was still working.

Tenet suppressed his smile. If Mordin wanted people to think he was crazy, so be it. Tenet had long since made peace with the man's ruse. He put his hands in his pockets and strolled to his vehicle, whistling and feeling very much better. Violet hadn't talked to Mordin. At least in that, both of them listened to Tenet's warnings. He threw his leg over the seat of his vehicle and started the engine.

Odd, though, her saying that. Tenet stopped whistling and frowned. He gunned the engine a few times, letting the motor warm up. It was an old, third-hand unit that he and Scarab saved up to buy for three years, and had to keep running with tape, epoxy, and wire. He had learned to baby it and let the engine fully warm before he attempted to put it in gear if he didn't want to spend an afternoon handing Scarab tools while she tinkered.

Tenet sat for another few seconds, then glanced up the hill to the path that lead to the school house, suddenly feeling very unsettled. He switched the key back off, then dismounted. He knew Mrs. Dinty frowned on parents visiting during the day and upsetting the new routine of the young students. But as he walked closer, his trepidation grew. Violet said she spoke with Mordin. Why would she make that up? He all but ran up the stairs to the building and tore down the hall, ignoring a teacher who called out her open door to ask what he was doing. He pulled open the door to Violet's classroom. Mrs. Dinty jumped and put her hand to her chest.

"Mr. Lorne! What do you think you are doing?"

The children in the class laughed, Mrs. Dinty told them to hush, and Tenet scanned the little faces looking for the only one he cared about. His heart pounded and his blood ran cold when he saw an empty space at the far side of a table of students. He turned to Mrs. Dinty. "Where's Violet?"

Mrs. Dinty frowned, and Tenet didn't need to hear her answer. He turned and ran full tilt out of the school and half slid down the hill. He jumped on his transport and didn't bother to let it warm up.

Violet said she saw her grandfather.

A deep fear clutched at his stomach. An old fear. A fear he had let himself forget over the last six, easy, wonderful years. He raced through town, ignoring Mrs. McKay when she shouted at him to slow down. He skidded his vehicle around the corner of that path that would turn into his driveway, and had to throw his weight in the other direction to keep it from tipping. He just had to make it home. Violet was there. She got sick and went home early. Or Scarab got her. Yes, Scarab got her to help with the renovations of the room. That was it! Scarab didn't like the Celtist school, anyway. That was it. That had to be it.

Tenet turned down the path that lead to their house and as soon as he entered the clearing, he knew that was not it. Violet was not sick. Scarab didn't let her skip school to come work on the room. The door to his home flapped open in the morning breeze. Scarab's own motor vehicle was still parked in its usual spot, so she hadn't left and forgot to secure the latch. Tenet could barely breathe as he jumped off his rig and ran inside, screaming their names.

The house was empty. He clenched his hair in his fists and tried to breathe as the world closed in around him. He looked around the house. No, no, no! Maybe Scarab took Darla. She loved riding the old horse. Maybe she took Darla and went and got Violet and they were off enjoying the nice day on one of the grand adventures Scarab liked to have with her daughter. Tenet's feet skidded to a stop outside Darla's small enclosure and he didn't even have to open the door to know she stood inside. He could hear her softly nicker when she heard him approach.

Tenet froze, his mind going utterly blank. What now? He took a deep breath, then heard a scream. It was coming from him. The wraith-like scream was coming from him and he dropped to the ground and let the gut-wrenching terror take over. His head swam and the world tilted, and he began to breathe in great gulps of air, trying to get the whirling horror to calm. When he felt like he could move again, he pushed himself up off the cold ground and stumbled back in the house.

How in the hell did they get Scarab? How did she let herself get taken? He looked around for...something. Anything. Some small clue to give him an idea of just what happened. A little girl, even one as feisty as Violet, would be easy to snatch. But Scarab? It didn't make any sense! He went into the room they had been fixing up and cried out when he saw a small, dark puddle on the floor.

No.

His mind refused to accept it even as he walked forward and dropped down. He put his finger in the dark patch and lifted it. It was blood.

No!

He looked down, trying to judge how much was lost, as if he could assess a wound from only that one small bit of information. It was blood. It was her blood. It was the blood of his wife, his world. He lost them. He lost them both.

Tenet's breakfast rolled in his stomach and he didn't even have time to reach the bathroom before he was heaving. He couldn't lose them. He couldn't bear to think of life without them. He heaved until the heaves turned into body jarring sobs. He rubbed a hand over his mouth and tried to pull himself together. On shaky knees, he pushed himself up and made his way back out to the main room. Think. He had to think. He had to make a plan.

Tenet walked to the table and sat down, knowing his legs were going to give out again. His house was quiet, and the quiet tore at him. He needed plan. He had to go after them. He would take what money they had left and go into town and buy whatever he could from Hans. No, that wouldn't work. Hans was strapped after the long winter and his supplies were thin. He'd have to go to Nortaberg and stock up. He tried to make a mental list of what he'd need when the hand that was flexing crinkled a piece of paper. He stopped and looked down.

Don't even bother. By the time you find them, I guarantee it will be too late. -Jace

Tenet's fist balled the paper up and a deep, burning rage unlike anything he ever felt filled him. His stomach stopped roiling and his breathing became calm and sure. He wondered idly if it was that internal, driving anger that let Scarab be such a formidable bounty hunter. Very carefully, he smoothed the paper out, then carefully folded it and placed it in his pocket as he rose. He would not let Jace win.

No longer unsure, Tenet went to his bedroom and quickly packed a bag with the gold coins they had, a few changes of clothes, and a spare pair of boots. He went into Violet's room and saw her dolly. He felt a slight crack in the coldness inside as he looked down at the little stuffed baby. What if Violet never got to hold her again? "No," he said out loud. He would not think like that. He placed the doll back on the bed and forced himself to believe that he would be tucking Violet back in that bed with her soon, too.

Tenet stopped at their pantry and got as much dried food as he could. He shoved it into the bag, then made good and sure his home was locked tight. "We will be back," he promised, more to himself than the house. He hopped on his vehicle and tried to turn the engine over. When it only sputtered and coughed, he had another rush of emotion and stood kicking the poor transport over and over, his rage and pain and anger bubbling over. The throbbing in his toe sank in and he stood and panted, trying desperately to find the cold steel within and hold onto it. It was exhausting being Scarab. He let out a little panicked laugh and then swallowed hard. He took another deep breath and walked around the house. Though not ideal, Darla would have to do. He would ride into town and see if Hans could trade for a younger horse, at least temporarily.

"Gee," he shouted once he was on her back and the old horse, used to easy trotting, took a moment to remember the command. Tenet yanked the reins and repeated it, then Darla bolted into action. Though not as fast as he would have liked, she did run at a reasonable pace for such an old beast. They made it to the store and Tenet wasted no time jumping off and racing for the door. He didn't even bother to tie off Darla. She was panting so hard he knew she wouldn't be wandering off anytime soon.

"Hans!" he bellowed, racing to the front of the store.

Hans frowned. "Tenet. Did you forget something?"

"I need a horse."

Hans looked at the man. Something was definitely wrong with his friend. "Take which ever you need."

"I..." Tenet swallowed hard. "I may not be able to return it."

Hans' eyes went wide. "What trouble are you in?"

The townspeople of Ogden did not know the whole story behind Tenet and Scarab's sudden appearance years before. They knew only that the two sought asylum and that the government of the Borderlands sent a soldier once a year to visit. Though there was much speculation, they all accepted the facts on face value and didn't pry. The two weren't Celtists, and neither was a threat to the community, so they didn't need to know anymore beyond that. Tenet struggled for a second on how much to tell his friend. "My wife and daughter have been taken by a dangerous man."

Hans gasped and put a hand to his chest, feeling a sudden pang of panic for the boy. "No."

Wren McKay put down the new bow he'd been looking at in one of the store's aisles and walked up to his friend. "What's this now, Tenet?"

Tenet turned and looked at Wren. "They're gone. Someone took them, a dangerous man and I need to get them back." He turned to Hans. "I can't promise I'll be able to return the horse but I have money and..."

Hans waved a hand. "Put that money away. Go! Take Clyde. He is the fastest!"

Tenet thanked the man and turned to leave. Wren grabbed his arm firmly, and Tenet tried to wrench it free. "I have to get going. They've already got a big head start!"

"And where did they go?" Wren asked. Tenet was no hunter. Tenet was no warrior. Tenet had never tracked man nor prey and Wren knew if he let him leave in the state he was in, Ogden would likely never see any of them again. And that would be very sad, indeed.

"I don't know," Tenet had to admit, feeling the panic start to clutch inside again. "But the longer I stand here the further away they'll get."

Wren nodded patiently. He had seen this kind of panic in the young warriors he trained and knew how to make Tenet calm down and think. Thinking was the most important part of tracking. It was also the hardest. This man just discovered that his wife and child were taken. In his shoes, Wren knew he himself would have a difficult time focusing. But, he couldn't let Tenet succumb. He had to force him to think, no matter how badly Tenet might hate him for it.

"You do not know where they went. Do you know how many there are?"

"No, but..."

"Do you know where they are taking them?"

Tenet clenched his jaw. "I don't have time for this."

"And they need for you to." Wren looked in his friend's eyes and willed him to listen. "They need you to keep a calm, level head and make a plan. If you run out of there all worked up not knowing anything, you will not find them."

Tenet stared into the warrior's eyes and slowly his mind made his heart calm down enough to listen. Wren sounded so much like Scarab that Tenet couldn't help but take his words seriously. He took a deep breath. "I have to get them," he whispered. "I will die without them."

Wren knew Tenet was listening, truly listening. He also knew that Tenet alone had no hope of getting his loved ones back. Years of leading, hunting, tracking, and battling made his mind formulate a plan in the moment. "You will go see Mirvena and explain the situation."

"But..."

"I will go to my wife," Wren said, not giving Tenet a chance to argue. "I will select two warriors and we will meet you back here in one hour."

"A whole hour?"

Wren nodded. "You will need to explain it to Mirvena, and I will need to allow my warriors enough time to say goodbye to their families."

Tenet blinked for a second, trying to fathom what Wren was saying. "You're...you're going with me?"

Wren allowed a quick smile for his friend before becoming serious again. "It is no more than I would do for any in our septad."

"But I'm not even a Celtist."

"But you are our brother." He saw the relief and pain mixed together in Tenet's eyes and wondered what kind of life the man had lived before coming to Ogden. Wren felt incredibly lucky to never know that kind of loneliness. He gave Tenet's arm a quick thump, then instructed him to go and seek out Mirvena. He nodded towards Hans, then headed out. His wife wouldn't like him gone for so long, but she would hold it against him forever if he didn't help. It was their way. They did not turn their backs on their own.

Tenet looked numbly at Hans. "Go. Speak with Mirvena," Hans told the overwhelmed man.

Tenet nodded and swallowed hard. Yes. Mirvena. He walked out of the store and started up the hill to the temple. Mirvena met him at the door and motioned him inside. It never ceased to amaze Tenet how quickly news spread in the small community.

"It is true then," the elderly priestess said as soon as Tenet was near. The look on his face was unmistakable.

"They're gone."

Mirvena pressed her lips together. "I think it is time you came clean with me, boy."

Tenet sighed. There was so much to say and so little time and he didn't know where he should begin. "I was the son of the Exalted Leader. Or, uh, I guess I still am."

"Who is this Exalted Leader?"

"He's...well I suppose the closest you have in the Borderlands would be the President, but his position is higher than that. Laws do not apply."

"I see," said Mirvena. Though she knew the very basics from Major Krupkie, the woman who had requested a place in Ogden for the two young people, she didn't know details. Once she assessed that neither the boy nor the former bounty hunter were a threat to her people, she didn't need to know anymore. "Keep talking."

"Do you know about the mandatory migrations?" Mirvena frowned and shook her head. She did not know, nor care to know, much about the workings of Southland or New Canada. "Because of the drastic seasonal flux, we...they migrate biannually. The Summers are spent in New Canada, where it is cooler, and the Winters are spent in Southland, where it is cooler."

Mirvena remembered something about it now that he mentioned. She couldn't imagine packing up and moving twice a year. "That's...disruptive."

"Yes, well, as disruptive as it might be, it's also law. I chose to just...not. I stayed when the transports left."

"Why?"

It was a very good and very complicated question that Tenet did not have time to answer. Maybe if he got back, he'd sit and allow the Historian to take down the narrative in her chronicles.

When he got back, he corrected himself. When.

"I just did," he said. "And Scarab, she was the hunter that took the bounty to come find me and bring me in."

Mirvena suddenly had a clearer picture of the two. "That makes for an interesting courtship."

Tenet couldn't help the smile. "You have no idea. Anyway, I figured it was a government bounty, one that was issued when I did not appear in New Canada. Every Summer, there are a handful of people who attempt to off-season, and the government usually issues a bounty and has a hunter bring them in."

Mirvena quirked an eyebrow. "And you were willing to face the punishments?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Tenet didn't have time for "why". "I just was. My life was not very good. And I would have done, and I guess I did do, anything to get away from it. My father is a mean, cold man."

Mirvena looked angry. "He is still your father."

"Yes. And he's the one that took the bounty out on me. And he was paying an incentive to have me brought in dead." Tenet watched Mirvena's eyes go wide and heard her gasp. "It is a very different society than yours, Grandmother," he said quietly, using the term of respect for her position.

Mirvena's mind churned. She knew their people turned them out. She had no idea they could be that cold, that vicious to their own. "I see," she said eventually, struggling to wrap her mind around it all. "And now you believe your father has found you?"

"Yes. And a bounty hunter."

Mirvena frowned. "The Borderlands does not allow bounty hunting."

"That didn't stop them."

"Are my people in danger?"

Tenet shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "They do not want you. They want me."

"Then why did they take the baby?" Mirvena asked, gripping Tenet's arm. "Why did they do that?"

Tenet had no answer the old woman could live with. They took them to hurt Tenet as badly as possible. Mirvena was tough as nails, and far from naive. But he knew she would never be able to understand how humans could exist that would torture their own that badly. "I am going after them."

"Yes. The warriors prepare."

Tenet nodded firmly, then swallowed hard past the sudden lump in his throat. The Celtists had done so much for him, for his family, and they just kept surprising him with their generosity. To say it was humbling was an understatement, and he needed to try and tell Mirvena as much in case he didn't return. "Thank you for allowing us to come here and..."

"No!" Mirvena snapped. "You will not be so impudent as to pretend we will not meet again." She said it with all the regal haughtiness of decades of leadership under her belt. "You cannot cast us aside so easily, Mr. Lorne. We do not work like that up here and when you return you shall meditate on that as penance for your impertinence!"

The tears in Mirvena's eyes betrayed her fear for him, for them, and he threw his arms around her and squeezed. "Yes, Grandmother," he said, choking up.

"Go find your woman and drag her back here," Mirvena said quickly, trying hard not to give in to her own sadness. "It would serve her well to have a day of meditation in the temple, too."

"Thank you," Tenet said softly. He turned and left the temple while he still could.

Gwyn, the septad's Historian, came out from behind the door, openly sobbing. "Oh, auntie," she said to Mirvena. Mirvena sighed and opened her arms, and let the woman cry on her shoulder, needing the contact just as badly. "Now you hush with that, Gwyn. They will be back."

Gwyn sniffed loudly. "How can you be sure?"

"I am the high priestess and Grandmother of the Ogden septad, that's how! Now, get back to your room and add this to the chronicles. No matter what happens, we shall never forget our brother and sister Lorne." She watched Gwyn scurry off, and then stood and stared at the empty doorway for long minutes before she entered her chamber. She desperately needed to meditate, but there was no time to waste. She crossed to her com dock and carefully recorded a precise message to send to Major Krupkie.

Mirvena hit send on the message and hoped the army could do something to help. Tenet had been more than willing to sit for their yearly inquisitions about his family. The very least they could do would be to help get Scarab and the baby back! If Mirvena was younger, she would have saddled up and ridden with Tenet herself. She suddenly felt so old. Old and helpless and useless. She sighed and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and entered her prayer state of being. Without hesitation she asked the Mother to make Tenet's feet swift and Scarab's aim true. It was all she could do for them, and she prayed with all her heart that it would be enough.

Chapter 3

Scarab's head throbbed. She felt the room sway around her, working with the incessant pounding to make her stomach turn. It took a few seconds for her to hear the sound of crunching beneath her, to realize that she wasn't in a room, but was moving in some sort of transport. She kept her eyes closed and slowed her breathing, old instincts kicking in. She could feel the metal beneath her face and she could clearly hear the crunching of the rocks and gravel they drove over. She was probably in the back over the tires. She took a careful sniff of the air, smelling the metal, some sort of petroleum, probably gasoline, and the tinny scent of blood. Hers. She knew it. That's why her head hurt.

Scarab kept her eyes closed and tried to think. She was in her house. Tenet had left to get something. Crinkle paper. Crinkle paper for Violet's snowflakes.

Violet!

Scarab's mind screamed at her to jump up and save her daughter, and only her years of careful training kept her from trying to do just that. She had to think. She had to remember what happened and try to piece together what kind of danger she was in. She forced her mind to pick through, to put the pieces together.

Scarab was in her house, stacking the bricks. Tenet came back. She called out to him to ask if he had also bought some more sugar since they were low and then... Then it wasn't Tenet. Then she heard a familiar chuckle before everything went black. The transport went over a bump and she bit her lip hard to keep from moaning as pain shot through her head and up her arm.

That chuckle was Jace. She knew it. She clearly remembered thinking that, and now she was awake in the back of a transport. He was probably driving. She moved her arm slightly, only to be stopped by something holding her back. Her arms were behind her back, clamped together with something strong. She tried to move her feet and almost cried out in frustration.

"They're electromagnetic cuffs, sweetheart," Jace's voice said.

Don't answer him, her mind ordered. She lay in silence, hoping he would buy that she had just moved in her sleep. Damn she was rusty!

"I know you're awake. Your stat monitor says your heart rate has increased and your thought patterns have stabilized."

Scarab's eyes flew open. For a second, the world swam in her unfocused gaze and she had to fight to keep from throwing up.

"Plus, I can see you." There was a small mechanical noise and suddenly a camera mounted on a moving metal arm was in front of her face. "Technology. I always told you it would win in the end."

Scarab stared coldly into the lens and let her mind process. Jace had her. She could not move. Not only that, she couldn't think without him knowing. He would see everything, hear everything, know everything as she did it. For the time being, she had to simply let herself be caught and bide her time.

"Not going to talk to me? Hm? Surely you have a few words to say to an old friend."

Yes, she most certainly did. But Scarab knew that her situation could become vastly more drastic if she allowed herself to actually say them. "What do you want, Jace?" she croaked through dry lips.

He laughed. The bastard actually laughed. "Well, nothing anymore. Just my payment, and that will come when I deliver you guys."

Scarab's heart began to thump even as she tried desperately to keep calm.

"Ah, I see by your heart readings that you've already put it together. Yes, I said 'you guys'. Very clever. You were always very clever."

Tenet or Violet? Oh please let it be Tenet, her mind begged.

"Now, here's the real question," Jace said, tipping his head while he casually steered the vehicle with one hand. "Which one is it, hm? Is it the pathetic man or the weak little girl? Which one do I have?"

Someone else in the vehicle scoffed. "Dear heavens you are a drama queen." It was a man's voice, one that prickled in the back of Scarab's memory. "I swear I cannot wait until these years of working with you are over!"

"Aw, now, Mr. B, surely I've earned a little bragging time."

Scarab schooled her features, hoping they didn't betray her rage. Mr. B. Tenet's father.

"Perhaps if it hadn't taken you six years to get the job done, then yes, I suppose I could stomach a little bragging," the older man snapped.

Scarab knew Jace would fume at that. Good. Fume. Get mad. She knew Jace well enough from their bounty hunting days to know that getting him angry would make him sloppy. She was enjoying the thought when the sound of her daughter crying iced her veins. Oh no. No!

"And there you two go waking the baby," the older man said with a sigh. "Hush, now."

"Grandfather?"

Scarab couldn't hold in her rage any longer. Something inside snapped and she pulled and tugged against her restraints with all her might. Jace began to laugh, Violet cried harder, and Tenet's father shouted for everyone to be quiet.

He leaned over the seat and Scarab got her first look at Tenet Bradwin Jr. in person. He was old. He was balding. He looked similar to her husband, but colder, meaner. He had ice blue eyes and the crease in his forehead said he rarely smiled. "You are upsetting my grandchild and most likely hurting yourself, hunter. Be still. Your thrashing is useless."

"Violet are you hurt?" Scarab called, staring the miserable man straight in the eye as she did so.

"Mumma! They won't let me see you."

"Are you hurt?" Scarab demanded again.

"No. But I can't move."

She wasn't hurt. Scarab felt one coil of fear relax. "Just sit there and be a good girl," she said. Though it killed her to tell her daughter to play along with these men, she knew it could be very bad if she didn't say the words. Scarab didn't know if they would actually hurt Violet, but she knew her own self was utterly expendable. They wouldn't hesitate to kill her and get rid of a problem that started six years ago. The only possible reason she could think of to explain why she was still alive was to either lure Tenet to them, or to keep Violet calm. "Relax and be good. It'll be okay."

"Okay, Mumma," Violet said with a sniff. "Okay."

"Smart mother," said Bradwin quietly only for Scarab's ears. "I highly recommend you keep being a smart mother. You do not want to know what will happen to you if you don't." Everything about the man's bearing told Scarab he meant exactly what he said, and she gave a small nod. He turned in his seat. "Get that camera out of her face," he snapped at Jace.

The little arm retracted and the lens was turned upward away from her face. Though she still had the heart and brain wave monitors, at least she had a modicum of privacy. She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer for the Mother to send help. Though it had been over twenty years since she actually believed in the Celtist religion, for the first time in years, Scarab was out of options.

The transport bounced over the rough mountain terrain. It was night, so Scarab had no way of telling what time it was, or in which direction they were heading. She tried to glean every bit of information she could from Bradwin as he spoke to her daughter, but he was giving up very little. Instead, he was filling the girl's head with all the things life in the Southland and New Canada would offer.

"You will have very pretty dresses," he promised.

"But I have a brand new leather suit just like Mumma's," Violet protested. "I don't like dresses."

Bradwin looked down at the girl. He marveled at just how much she resembled her mother, and wondered idly if his wife would be disappointed there wasn't more of Tenet in the girl's features. It didn't matter one way or the other, of course. The situation was what it was. But he would be the one to have to listen to the bitching if Irmara was displeased. And Irmara was generally displeased with pretty much everything. "You cannot wear leathers in Southland," he told her.

"Why not?"

"Because it is not allowed to kill an animal and wear its skin."

Violet giggled. "But after you eat them, they don't need skin anymore."

Bradwin sighed. He had a lot of work ahead of him to make this little heathen child presentable. "Well you will not eat them in the first place, so they will need to keep their skins right where they are."

Violet tilted her head to the side. "We won't eat them?"

"No."

"Not any of them?"

"No," he said firmly. "It is wrong to kill an animal and eat it."

Violet frowned. "Maybe you cooked it wrong."

Bradwin was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"Maybe that's why you don't like eating it. Da hates it when Mumma cooks because she makes the meat tough and yucky. Does your Mumma cook it wrong, too?"

It didn't matter that her head throbbed or her arm ached, that was funny and Scarab bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"No. My mumma did not cook it wrong. She did not cook it at all. We do not kill animals to eat them."

"Why not?"

Bradwin rubbed the bridges of his nose, already growing sick of the child's questions. So there _was_ some of Tenet in this dark haired little girl after all. "Because it is wrong. Because there is no reason to take a life when you have other options."

Violet frowned. "What's a option?"

"A choice. Something else you can do. For example, I have plenty of fruits and vegetables to eat. Therefore, there is simply no reason to kill an animal. I have the _option_ to eat the plants, so I choose that and let the animals be happy and free."

"Oh," said Violet, finally understanding. "I get it. I eat beef when I have the option because Da says mutton and deer are gross."

Scarab's eyes twinkled, Bradwin threw his hands in the air, and Jace was fed up with the lot of them. "I give up!" Bradwin said in frustration. "I will let your grandmother teach you that lesson."

"You have a grandmother in your septad?"

Bradwin's eyes went wide. He didn't believe Tenet would raise his daughter the same way he grew up, but he had firmly believed that Tenet would keep some things sacred. Not only did he feed her meat, but he let that heathen culture get its claws into the girl. He cursed Jace in his head yet again for his incompetence and decided to dock the pay even more. "We do not have septads," he said with as much control as he could muster. "We live in towns, like normal, ordinary people."

"Da said you live with your heads up your asses."

"Violet!" her grandfather gasped.

"It's true! I heard him say it to Mumma."

Even Jace snorted in laughter and Scarab was never more proud of her daughter.

"That is very foul language for such a young girl and you should be punished!"

Violet sighed heavily. "Now you sound like Da."

"I should. I raised him. And I can assure you that our heads are not up our...rumps! After a few months of settling in, you will learn that our way is best." Bradwin gave the little girl a stern look and a firm nod.

Violet suddenly turned uncomfortable again. "Mumma I wanna go home."

Scarab squeezed back the pain. "It's okay. It'll be okay."

"You are going home," said Bradwin, trying to drown out Scarab's voice. "And it will have big yard to play in and a swing set and many children to play with. Have you ever watched television? No?" Bradwin kept talking, telling her all of the things his land had to offer that she never would get in the Borderlands, telling her about the family she hadn't yet met, telling her about her little cousins, Nada's twins that she could play with, anything that came to mind just to keep her from panicking. The one thing he hated above Irmara's griping was a wailing child, and her lip had started to quiver there for a moment. Besides, the rest of the journey would go much smoother if she cooperated. He talked until he saw her eyes getting heavy, and quieted his voice to soothe her to sleep. Her head lolled to the side of the seat that held her captive and Bradwin wiped his sweaty brow.

"I do not know how you manage to put up with that around the clock," Bradwin said as he mopped his sweaty face and neck with a handkerchief. "I believed you were a tough woman before, and now I am certain of it."

The throbbing in Scarab's head increased the longer she forced herself to stay awake. The jostling of the transport made everything worse and soon she was struggling to remain conscious. "Don't compliment me while you're kidnapping my daughter," she ground out, trying desperately to keep her focus.

Bradwin snorted. "You have a mighty chip on your shoulder for one in such a predicament. I can promise that compliments will be few and far between from here on out. You should simply say 'thank you' and move on."

The dark metal floor and curved seat back in front of her swirled and blurred in her vision. "He won't come, you know," Scarab said, needing to do anything she could to help their cause.

Bradwin gave a small, humorless laugh. "Come now. If there's one thing I know for sure it's that my son is far too romantic for his own good."

Scarab felt a flood of relief. Bradwin just confirmed that they didn't get Tenet. He was still home, still safe. "He's weak and soft," Scarab insisted, trying to keep her heartbeat calm through the lie. "He does nothing all day but stay home and fiddle with his crafts."

Bradwin glanced up in the mirror and lifted an eyebrow when Jace stared at him. Jace shook his head and shrugged, not knowing if Scarab was telling the truth or lying. "You don't think very much of your womanly wiles if you believe that."

"I have no womanly wiles," Scarab said. "I'm a shitty and demanding wife and he's probably very happy to get rid of me."

Bradwin let out a small laugh that sent shivers through Scarab with its coldness. "Let's not misunderstand each other, hunter. I know my son. I know every single fault of his, and I know the damn fool was probably besotted from the moment you scraped his sorry ass up out of the ashes. Don't play games. They won't get you very far."

Scarab squeezed her eyes tightly, trying to keep her focus. The throbbing in her temple would not stop, and when she tried to turn her head to see if a different position would help, she found she couldn't move very far. Something tugged on her skin when she tried and she remembered the monitor. She wondered how much Jace could read, what he could see by her brain waves. She had been away from technologies like those for so many years she couldn't even hazard a guess at how good they had become.

Jace noticed the brain wave monitor was going nuts. He frowned and gripped the steering wheel tighter. His boss was giving Scarab too much information and Jace could literally see her gears turning. The last thing he wanted at this point was for her to hatch a plan. She was strapped into an electromagnetic holding device. Her vital statistics were monitored in every possible way. He could press a button and see everything she was doing in less than a second. His boss thought he was being ridiculous, that it was overkill to use so much equipment on one small woman, but Jace knew Scarab. He studied her years of bounty hunting with a determination that bordered on obsession. If there was one thing he knew for sure it was that he'd never met anyone who was better at getting out of a tight situation. At that moment, she couldn't move. But she was still working out her escape, and that was something Jace could not afford to forget.

"Mr. B, I think the conversation should end," Jace said in a stern voice, glancing up at the man in the rear view mirror, hoping that for once Mr. B wasn't going to need a detailed explanation.

Bradwin sighed. He'd worked with the man for years and knew what that look meant. It was a patronizing look that said the hunter believed the old man was a complete moron. Bradwin had the urge to remind Jace once again just who it was that paid his bills and kept him in whores and wine. However, he would never do that in a board room. Even though he was in a transport in the blasted wildness, business was still business. He gave Jace a small nod, then turned to stare out into the dark night.

Scarab listened for any response, waiting for a reprimand she was sure Bradwin would give the impudent hunter. When none came, Scarab saw an opportunity. She scoffed with as much authority as she could muster. "I see the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

Jace waited for more, but when that was all she said, his frown deepened. What was she playing at? He glanced in the mirror again to warn Bradwin to keep his mouth shut, but the man wouldn't look up, and if he said anything else at this point, he knew it could just play into whatever Scarab's plan might be.

Scarab waited patiently. If she had judged correctly, neither man could let that statement go. One of them would want to know what she meant. As the seconds ticked by in silence, she was just beginning to wonder if she miscalculated, when Bradwin could not help himself.

"And what could you possibly mean by that?"

If he had been allowed to keep the camera on her, Jace would have seen the little twinkle of triumph in her eye. "It's just striking how similar you and Tenet are," Scarab told him.

Bradwin snorted. "That bump on the head must be worse than I thought! Did you ever hear such nonsense, Jace? This just got highly entertaining, indeed. Tell me, female hunter, just how it is that I am in any way like my fop of a son. I'm all ears."

Before Jace could answer and shut down the conversation, Scarab's voice was loud and clear in the cab of the transport. "You both take orders from common bounty hunters."

Bradwin tried never to lose his temper. He had spent decades perfecting the cool aloofness a politician of his caliber needed to display during even the most terrible crisis, and he considered himself an expert on stoicism. However, her one simple sentence and all it implied set his blood boiling. He bowed to no one. No one! And it was time the hunter bitch learned that lesson well. "Protocol," he snapped, his eyes seeking Jace's in the mirror.

Scarab didn't even have time to wonder what that meant when she heard a faint hum, then felt a searing pain shoot through her temple. She had just enough time to feel a flutter of panic before everything went black.

"Done, boss," Jace said, removing his finger from the button that sent an electric jolt through Scarab's brain. Years of practice, some successful, some less so, had taught Jace the right voltage he needed to deliver though the electromagnetic holding device to incapacitate a person without killing them. A quick glance at her heart monitor showed he had gone a tad too far, and he anxiously watched the line, hoping for it to resume a steady rate. After a couple cycles, the line settled down into a more normal, if somewhat rapid, rate, and he felt relief. She seemed overly sensitive to the electricity. He didn't want her dead. If that was the goal, he would have killed her back in her home. He also didn't want her brain fried. When she finally came to him as he wanted for so long, he wanted her to really be Scarab, all of her, not just some vegetable with tits.

Bradwin looked out the window into the night, hating the feeling of anger that still rushed through him. Jace had warned him that Scarab was scathing, but he had years and years of Irmara's razor tongue and fully believed he could handle anything a heathen hunter could throw his way. Irmara was the very best at cutting a man down, after all. He gave a bitter little laugh thinking about how entertaining it would be to watch Irmara and Scarab go at each other. Perhaps the hunter would finally give Irmara the comeuppance she desperately needed.

The scary laugh worried Jace. Mr. B had lost his temper, and that was exactly the game Scarab was playing. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Mr. B just that, but after Scarab's words, he knew the man wouldn't take it well. Instead, he decided to try concern. "You okay, boss?"

Bradwin's eyes snapped to Jace's in the mirror. "You undersold the heathen's intelligence."

Jace hadn't. In fact, he'd spent the last seven years that he worked for Mr. B trying to hammer it home just how clever Scarab was. It wasn't his fault Mr. B didn't listen, but with the man's temper at the breaking point, it would not be wise to point that out. "We're almost to camp," he said instead. "We'll put up for the night and she'll be out of your way."

Bradwin waved a hand and turned to look back outside. A granddaughter who wore fur, a huntress with the ability to cut a man's balls off with one sentence, and a moron at the wheel. That's what he had to deal with. And the damn impossible trails through the wilds that rattled his teeth and pounded his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose, telling himself over and over it was worth it. Twenty years of planning and he was so very close. He could put up with a little sass and an idiot. The girl would be taken in and go through training. She was smart and very young still, with enough of her father in her to adapt. He could get through this. He could see it out.

He was so very close.

Chapter 4

Tenet sat on the back of Hans' best horse, in the middle of a line of Ogden warriors and hoped to hell they were right when they picked a path to follow out of town. Once the decision to join Tenet in his pursuit of his family had been made, the warriors moved with an incredible speed that made Tenet's head spin. Within the hour that Wren had given Tenet to prepare, Wren and his companions questioned townspeople, assembled the necessary supplies for an extended journey, and ascertained the direction they believed the group traveled. While it came as no surprise to Tenet that his father was moving south, he was leery as to the exact path Wren insisted they took.

"Trust us, brother," Wren had said firmly before they mounted their horses and took off. Tenet did. He trusted his friend completely. He was just terrified, and in his terror everything he did brought doubts.

"Hold!" Wren called from the front of the line, holding his closed fist in the air for the rest to see.

Takar McKay, Wren's brother and second in command of the warrior sect of the septad, told Tenet to wait on the path, then kicked his horse forward to join his brother. Wren had dismounted and was looking at something on the ground, and Tenet rose in his stirrups, trying to see what it was. His horse began to turn, and Tenet swore and tried to get the beast facing the right way.

"Easy, now," came the young voice of Lendyl Bryn, one of the youngest warriors from Ogden, as he gently took the reins from Tenet's hands and guided the horse back the right way. "You keep it more firm, like this," he said, pulling both reins taught and securing them behind the mane.

Tenet took the reins. "Thanks. I'll never get the hang of these things."

The young man flashed him a grin, something rare in a warrior, especially when they were on a mission. But the boy hadn't yet lost the shine of youth, and in his mind, he was on a grand adventure. He'd never been south of the great mountains, and by what Wren had told his mother, he would travel much further than that. His skill with a bow earned him a modicum of respect among the seasoned warriors, but he still had yet to earn a full place side by side with the others. Lendyl had plans on being a hero, and receiving a hero's welcome upon his return. In his young way of thinking, there simply wasn't any other way their mission would play out.

"You let the animal control you, this is why you have difficulty," the boy explained. He liked Tenet. He was a fair healer, and he traded well. But the best thing about Tenet was that he knew less than Lendyl. Lendyl was superior to someone on the journey, and that made Tenet his new best friend.

Tenet pulled his canteen from his belt once he was certain the horse wouldn't buck him off and took a long sip, watching Takar and Wren deep in discussion. "What do you think they see?" he asked as he screwed the cap back on.

"I could guess and be wrong and prove myself a fool, or we can wait and they will tell us."

Tenet gave a little laugh at the boy. Lendyl was trying so hard to sound old and wise. Tenet remembered his own days in the Academy when his friends realized he had access to his mother's healing herbs. He felt like he was smarter, bigger, better than all of them and, looking back, he bet he came off as a royally pompous ass, much like young Lendyl. He held his tongue. He knew it was important for the young warrior to prove himself to the others, and if that meant a little conceit, so be it.

Takar turned from Wren and mounted his horse, then came back to speak with Tenet. Not one for much chatter, he said simply, "Transport tracks."

Tenet felt a flutter of hope. No one drove any mechanical transports in that particular section of woods. No one who knew the area, anyway. There were only rutted game trails to follow, and anyone local would never attempt such a jarring and slow journey. "Why didn't they use the Nortaberg road?" The government had been expanding the road that lead from Nortaberg to the Northern sections of Borderlands. Over the past few years, the decision had been made to also create a safe passage south. It would have been much faster and definitely easier travel, and with all the traffic, they probably wouldn't have been noticed.

Takar gave a curt shrug. "Because they went through here." He clicked his tongue and his horse moved back in position in the rear of the small party.

Lendyl turned his own horse and they settled back into their travel pattern. When Tenet passed the point on the road where Wren had stopped, he looked down and saw unmistakable tire tracks through the soft ground. They were wide and deep, and he knew it was a fairly large transport. He looked at the forest around them. They were off the mountain, so it wasn't steep any longer, but there were still plenty of trees and bushes. He followed the tracks ahead of them with his eyes and could see the swath the transport cut through the undergrowth. He craned his head back and looked past a scowling Takar, to see if he simply missed a similar swath before, but could clearly see where it started.

Tenet turned back around to face forward and think. Though his military career had been halted pretty much before it began, he did have excellent training at the Academy and had a knack for strategy. His father had clearly traveled on foot to abduct his family. At the thought, his hands tensed on his reins and his horse threw his head up and whinnied. Lendyl looked back to see if he needed help, but Tenet got his animal back under control. Scarab always insisted the beasts could sense moods, and Tenet tried to get himself to calm. Panicking would not help. Letting the anger consume him would not help. Thinking would help. Planning would help. He drew a deep breath and thought through what he knew.

Tenet knew that his father had either walked in or taken horses or small personal transports to Ogden. The large transport had to have been parked at the base of the mountain where they picked up the tracks. Jace was smart enough not to attempt the mountain in a large vehicle, or to risk being seen in one in Nortaberg. Tenet believed that meant they might be searching for a Southland transport, something that would be noticed. Yes, it was the only thing that made sense. Did it matter? Perhaps. At least it was something to think about, something to keep his mind off the rest.

They traveled for hours until just before dusk. Tenet didn't want to stop but knew the folly of traveling the dark forests of the central Midlands at night. It was springtime, and there would be untold numbers of starving wildcats and bears coming out to make up for the lean winter. They would need to camp with a large fire and hope Jace and his father were still far enough away not to notice the flames. Tenet reined in his horse and followed Lendyl's instructions on setting up a warrior camp. He did as he was told and within a half hour they had a roaring fire and were passing dried meat around for their meal.

"They bogged down," Wren said, staring into the flames and chewing the dried deer. He had a winter of mostly root vegetables, and only got one meal of the sheep Tenet's daughter had slaughtered before they rode out. He was grateful to Tenet for the power the deer meat would supply his lean body. They would need it on the trip.

"Bogged down?" Tenet asked, handing the sack of meat to Lendyl.

Wren nodded. "Yes. They must have gotten stuck. Did you not notice the mud splatters and giant ruts?"

Tenet was used to the way Wren explained things, the tone of voice and the look of derision. Wren spent his days training young warriors, people who would be fueled by condescension and disrespect to be braver and harder and faster. Tenet did not take it personally. "No. I didn't."

Takar grunted. "Open your eyes tomorrow."

Tenet didn't think Takar liked him. Then again, Takar didn't seem to like anyone, not even his older brother. He lived alone, having no wife, which was odd for one of his age. If Tenet had to guess, Takar was easily pushing thirty-five, well past the age of marrying and starting a family in the Borderlands. Tenet often wondered about it, but never asked. It would have been a rudeness beyond measure to ask a personal question of a warrior. Wren had a tendency to gossip, though, and let it slip once that Takar's path had been decided early on, but hadn't elaborated.

Tenet turned back to Wren. "What should I look for?"

"Do they not teach tracking in Southland?" Lendyl asked.

Tenet nodded. "They do, but not in terrain such as this. And not how to track vehicles." With all Southland and New Canada vehicles running on the national electrical grid, every transport was always accounted for. No tracking was ever necessary.

Lendyl frowned. "How useless!"

Takar grunted again, but Wren got angry. "Hold your tongue, pup."

Tenet didn't want to cause any more trouble than he already had. "It's okay, Wren. He's right. Now that I think about it, it was fairly useless." He sighed. "Life down there was useless."

Lendyl didn't know what to say. He hadn't meant to offend Tenet, or make him dwell on a time he wanted to forget. "You look at the pattern of the track," he said, trying to make up for his faux pas.

"Look for footprints," Wren added with a nod. "If they bog, they have to get out."

Tenet nodded. "Right. Makes sense. And if they bogged, that means we're closer than we should be already."

Wren agreed, but he didn't want to get Tenet's hopes up. Even a large transport that bogged and had to avoid trees could move faster than the horses, especially once they reached open grasslands. "We are within a day. Let us hope they rest for the night."

Takar sucked a piece of meat from his teeth loudly, then cracked his knuckles and lay back in the dirt.

"Takar's right," Wren said. "We must sleep."

Tenet hadn't heard Takar say any such thing, but the other men stretched out on the ground around him and he laid back and tried to do the same. But sleep? There was no way that was going to happen. He knew as soon as he laid his head in his entwined fingers that he would be awake all night, hoping, wishing, wondering, and fearing. He wanted his wife. He wanted to be back in his home tucking his baby in her bed so he could join his wife in their own. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to know she was okay. He forbid himself to think about the blood. Scarab was somewhere planning the escape that would lead her and their daughter back home safely. She just had to be.

Takar was annoyingly refreshed in the morning. His movements were full of peppy energy and it was clear he slept well. Lendyl smiled at Tenet as he drank his morning tea, and Tenet had an unreasonable urge to slap the grin from the boy's face. Even Wren looked like he got good rest. How did they do it? How could they shut it off and sleep when everything he loved was stolen and...

"Eat," Wren said, giving Tenet a knowing look.

Tenet snatched the meat from him and accepted a cup of hot tea, wishing it was coffee. Ogden didn't share the love of the southern beans that Tenet and Scarab did, and getting coffee was one of the great perks in the Spring when Fratz was sent to Ogden to interrogate Tenet on behalf of the army. He wondered idly what Fratz would do when he arrived to find Tenet gone as he sipped the bitter tea the Celtists preferred.

"You did not sleep," Wren said, squatting by the fire across from Tenet and assessing his friend. He had not believed he would, but he hoped Tenet would soon figure out how to calm the heat inside and let his body rest. "You must." Tenet gave Wren a glare he'd never seen before in the man, and it made Wren feel better. Tenet was no warrior, and he never would be. But there was a fierce side to his friend he'd never seen. Good. He would need to be fierce to save his wife and baby.

Tenet said nothing but drained his mug and clipped it back to the side of his pack. "Can we move out?" Takar jumped up, as if he had been waiting to get moving for hours, and in seconds was on his horse and ready to go. Everyone mounted, then picked up the trail where they left off the night before.

It was barely past dawn and the fog hung thick even in the dense wood. Travel in such conditions was slow going, and Tenet felt his frustrations mounting, thoughts of his family getting further and further away torturing every step. He tried to force himself to think of military strategies, to think of all the tracking experience he had, no matter how useless, to think of anything other than crinkle paper snowflakes or the way his wife's eyes flashed when she came to him in bed. However, the torturous night without sleep was taking its toll and he was finding it harder and harder to keep himself focused. How in the hell did Scarab do it? How was it that she could so easily put up the walls and feel nothing?

Tenet felt Takar's horse beside his own and turned to look. He was so lost inside himself that he hadn't even heard the man approach. "Get your mind together," Takar said firmly.

Tenet was shocked that he was getting advice from the cold warrior. "How?" he whispered miserably.

"What is it you would do to this Jace right now?"

Tenet's eyes instantly changed and he clenched his jaw. "I'd kill him."

"And what if he touches your woman?"

Cold fury ripped through Tenet at the very thought. He remembered their encounter with Jace when they were almost to the border all those years ago. There had been something between Scarab and Jace, an affair between the two hunters perhaps, something more than just a working relationship. He never pushed Scarab for more than the few details she offered. But sitting there thinking of that bastard touching his wife, he had a terrifying thought that Jace might consider the reunion a chance to rekindle old flames. He turned his hate filled eyes to Takar. "Why would you say that?" he hissed.

Takar would not relent. Tenet needed to be a man, and in Takar's opinion, pushing him right to the boiling point was the way to make that happen. "Maybe he puts his hands on her now."

Tenet gripped his reins so tightly they cut right into his hands. He found he liked the pain. "Warrior or not, if you don't shut your mouth this instant..."

"Good," Takar said firmly. "Now, you stay there. You keep that thought. You'll be a warrior yet." He nodded and pulled back, letting his horse drop back into position bringing up the rear while Tenet fumed.

Tenet was shaking he was so furious. He tried desperately to see through the angry haze, to calm down, to remember who he was, who Takar was. His anger was so hot and intense that for the first time in his life, he longed to plant his fist into someone and make them pay. He took a deep breath and then another, thinking about exactly what he wanted to do to Jace. No, he didn't want to plant his fist in the man's face. That would be quick and not painful enough. He wanted to systematically tear him to pieces. He gripped the reins tighter and felt the burning sting of ragged leather bite deeper into his flesh.

Midway through the morning, Wren abruptly stopped his horse and held his hand up silently. Everyone stopped and dismounted, then crept forward to peer over the ledge like Wren. Tenet stared down a small hill to an old, abandoned homestead in the middle of a clearing. It was clear that no one lived at the abode with any regularity. The house was covered in dried vines, and even the heavy snow of the past winter wasn't enough to tamp down the crinkly pile of high, dead grass in the clearing. However, right through the center were deep gouges made by the transport. It was clear Jace and the others had spent the night in the house, and the urge to run down and see if could find any more clues made Tenet rise. If it wasn't for Wren's firm grasp on his forearm, Tenet would have marched right down there, danger be damned.

Wren gave Takar a nod, and the warrior crouched low and passed the group. Wren yanked on Tenet's arm, and he had no choice but to drop down and wait. He watched as Takar soundlessly made his way down the hill into the clearing, sticking to the tracks through the tall dead grasses that the vehicle made. He stopped when he was at the spot where the transport had clearly been parked, and patted the ground around him.

"What's he doing?" Tenet hissed.

"Checking for temperature, moisture," Lendyl explained. "Signs to say how long ago they left." Wren glared. "What? They're clearly gone."

Wren shook his head. "We've no sign from Takar," he said, his voice very low pitched but not exactly a whisper. "Until we do, we wait and we do it quietly."

Tenet saw Lendyl roll his eyes as soon as Wren turned away. He knew the boy would follow the order, though, and he planned to as well. The very last thing he wanted to do was mess the mission up. Too much was at stake . He turned his attention back to Takar. Or at least he tried to. Takar was nowhere to be seen. "Where did he go?" he whispered.

Wren closed his eyes and prayed to the Mother for patience. He had to remind himself once again that Tenet was not one of his warriors. "Do not whisper. Pitch your voice like mine. A whisper carries. Voices like this sound like Nature. And Takar is in the house. Now, be quiet."

Tenet turned back to the scene and saw Takar standing on the small porch, waving his arm over his head. He waved three times, then made another motion. Wren put his own arm up, waved twice, then made a chopping sign and then held up a closed fist. Tenet watched as Takar answered with another set of hand motions, then crept off in the direction the transport must have taken when they left that morning.

Wren turned to Tenet. "The house is clear, we will investigate. I do not believe you will rest until we do. Then we will follow again. It has been less than four hours since they left. We are closing the gap."

Tenet clenched his hand and stood, ignoring the sting from the cut the strap made when it bit into his palm. Wren noticed the blood on Tenet's hand and frowned, worried for his friend. He said nothing for the time being, but determined to watch Tenet carefully. It was a hard mission they were on, especially for someone like Tenet who had no training, and Wren couldn't imagine what Tenet was thinking and feeling.

They went down the hill as quickly as the muddy slope would allow. Lendyl stayed outside and held the reins while Wren and Tenet went in the rickety old building to look. Look for what, Tenet wasn't sure. But Wren was correct. His wife and daughter spent the night in this house and he had to see. He just had to.

Wren stood in the doorway and quickly took in the scene. Those they chased had a fire in the fireplace that still smoldered. There was a pile of wrappings on the table that indicated the captives were fed. The dust around the central room floor was gone. Perhaps that's where they slept? He glanced at the stairs. They were covered in cobwebs, and it was clear no one had used the rooms above. There was a door in the back of the room that stood open, and he could see a small washroom. The only other doorway lead to what appeared to be the kitchen. He moved quickly to investigate and saw the area on the counter near the water pump was disturbed, but nothing else had been moved.

Wren stood in the doorway leading back into the central room and watched Tenet, who stood at the table and held one of the food wrappers. The man's hand was bleeding and he looked very angry. It made Wren uncomfortable to see his normally smiling friend looking so much like a warrior.

"They were fed and warmed," Wren said, deciding Tenet needed to know that and hoping it would give his friend some comfort.

Tenet held the waxed paper in his hand. He knew the wrapper even though he hadn't seen one in years. It was from the type of snack cake he favored as a boy. The paper had little crumbs stuck to it with the syrupy honey glaze, and he remembered what it would taste like if he licked it off as he used to. Instead of being a happy memory, though, it was a sour one. His mother only allowed him to have those cakes when she was bribing him. They weren't treats, they were payments. And his father was now doing the same with his Violet. He crinkled the wrapper in his hand and let it burn into his cut, let it put another brick in the wall.

"Let's go," he said to Wren, his voice eerily calm.

"Tenet," Wren began. When Tenet whirled around and glared, Wren held his tongue. They silently mounted and followed the trail, picking up Takar along the way. Takar gave Tenet a nod of approval when he saw the man's face and took up his position in the rear, feeling proud that he could be the one to help the warrior inside the soft man emerge.

Much to everyone's chagrin, it began to rain in early afternoon. Lendyl tried to point out to Tenet that rain would be much more of a hindrance to a large, heavy, wheeled transport than it would to light and agile horses, but Tenet simply stared ahead and marched his horse through the wet drops. Lendyl watched him with concern, then clicked his tongue and trotted up to Wren.

"I worry," he said simply to his leader.

Lendyl didn't have to explain for Wren to understand. He, too, kept glancing back at his friend. Everyone had a breaking point. He wondered if Tenet had reached his. It would be a shame to lose such a person. "Ride by his side and keep on alert. His mind is of a single focus and danger could come from anywhere."

Lendyl felt his chest swell. He was just given an important task, and never before had Wren bestowed any job of true worth on his shoulders before. "Yes," he said simply, then fell back to walk his horse beside Tenet's, his eyes scanning the landscape for dangers, his ears straining in the rain to hear potential trouble.

Wren smiled to himself at the head of the small troop. He just took care of two birds with one stone. Not only would Tenet be protected, but eager young Lendyl would keep his mouth closed through the rest of the afternoon. Not for the first time, he thought of how similar training a new warrior was to raising a child. Besides, there was no real danger, not yet. Not so close to his homeland. If they couldn't get the woman and child back before they neared the border, it would be a different story. For the time being, though, he was positive they chased only one transport, that the old man and bounty hunter worked together without assistance. There were no dangers beyond those the Mother would put in their path.

The rains picked up just as they were clearing the deep forest and entering the central plains lands. While it made for miserable travel, Wren knew the rains were actually help from the Mother. The transport would bog in the thawing, muddy ground. Though he couldn't see it on the horizon, the tamped down swath the vehicle cut through the tall dead grasses was no longer straight. He was certain the operator of the vehicle was already having trouble keeping on course. As they pressed on, they found several places where the transport had to be dug out of deep mud, and Wren assured Tenet over and over that it was a very good sign.

"The Mother is helping," he said firmly as he stood over a deep, muddy mess.

"The Mother could have kept my family safe in the first place," Tenet said coldly, as he rose and mounted his horse again.

Lendyl's eyes went wide and he turned to Wren. Wren just gave a little shake of his head and motioned for them to mount as well. He would not hold Tenet's bitterness against him and would meditate later on Tenet's behalf.

They pushed on as long as they could, until the night rolled in and they couldn't see in front of their own noses. "Halt!" Wren called, knowing they couldn't see hand signals. The rains still pounded and it would be a long, uncomfortable night. Together they tethered the horses and set up the small skin lean-tos the warriors carried with them. The skins stopped the worst of the rain from hitting the men, and they settled as best as they could.

"Tenet, a word," Wren said.

Tenet was staring into the night, not even realizing he was shivering. He heard Wren but didn't respond.

Wren opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to continue. If Tenet was one of his warriors, he would have given him a lecture on losing himself to the heat of the moment, and then ordered him to meditate and find his center. But Tenet wasn't one of his warriors, and he wasn't a Celtist, and Wren had to choose his words with care. "Your woman is the strongest and bravest." He felt Tenet tense beside him. "She will die before she lets them hurt Miss Violet."

Tenet ran a hand through his wet hair and swore. "Don't you think I know that, Wren? Don't you think that's one of the things that terrifies me the most? My father will not hurt Violet."

Wren's eyes went wide. "He wanted to hurt you. It would seem foolish to believe better of him than he's proven."

Tenet sighed. "Yes, but...it's different down there, Wren. He wouldn't hurt a girl. He stands to profit way too much from her."

"You are sure of this?"

Tenet was absolutely sure. Maybe if he had a son, not a daughter, it would be a different story. "Yes. Violet is safe. She will bring a very high bride price, and my father would never risk losing out on such and unexpected bonanza." The words tasted sour in his mouth, but that didn't make them untrue. "She will stay safe even if we have to go across the border and hunt him down to get her back." He turned to Wren even though he couldn't see the man in the night. "And I will," he said firmly. "I will get my daughter back and bring her home."

"We will," Wren said firmly. "You will not be alone in that mission."

Tenet was glad for the resolve he heard in his friend's voice. It spoke of their friendship, and once again Tenet was glad his life had lead him to people who would honestly put their lives on the line for their friends. He was proud to have a friend like Wren, but he had no plans on taking the man up on his offer. A Celtist warrior would not get a warm welcome in Southland. Through the afternoon, he had silently made his own plans as he rode in the rain. If it came to crossing the border, he would slip away on his own and leave the Celtists in the relative safety of the Borderlands. Tenet knew Wren would be furious, but he just couldn't put any of them in more danger than they already faced.

Tenet calmed himself with reason about Violet, and fueled his angry desperation as the truth about Scarab's predicament sank in. They would need Scarab to get to the border. He was almost sure of that. She would keep Violet calm, keep her behaving, keep her from drawing attention when they got towards the more populated areas nearer the border. But once they crossed the border, Scarab would be no more than an old problem. Tenet's father would turn his daughter over to his mother's care, and Scarab would be handled. They had to get to her before the border, if she didn't do something to get herself killed before then.

"Scarab can really rub people the wrong way," Tenet said as diplomatically as he could. "We need to get her. She is nothing but trouble to my father and..." his voice choked off and he squeezed his aching hand closed to let the pain bring him focus. When he spoke again, his voice was detached and cold. "We need to reach her as soon as possible."

Wren gave a firm nod. "We are gaining on them, Tenet. Sleep."

Tenet gave a bitter laugh. Between the shivering and the rain and the nerves that were twisted in knots inside, the very last thing he could do was sleep.

Wren used his scariest warrior voice. "You are no good to her or us if you fall off your horse! Stop your self pity and sleep before you put the mission in danger. Now!"

Tenet spent enough years with Scarab to know that tone of voice in a warrior did not leave room for argument. He pulled his hat lower on his head and hunched down with the fur wrapped around him and stared at the darkness of night. He let the sounds of the rain drown out his thoughts and finally after long, lonely, aching hours, his eyes closed and he let the image of his wife's face calm his mind. He would get her. There was no other option.

Chapter 5

Bradwin pinched the bridge of his nose and wished it was time to take another pill. His headache simply would not stop, and the driving rain on the roof of the transport for the second day in a row was not helping. He wished for the millionth time that they could have taken the main roads, but knew it would have been far too risky.

"I want to go home!" Violet yelled again, kicking her legs firmly on the seat. She gave up being good the day before when her Mumma stopped answering her questions. She knew Mumma was in the back. Grandfather kept leaning over the seat and talking to her, though Violet couldn't hear what he was saying. And she knew her Mumma wasn't awake because the man driving them around kept telling her grandfather she was still "out".

"Come on, little girl," Jace said from the front seat. "Just shut the yap for five minutes like a good kid and I'll give you another Yum Yum cake."

"I don't want a Yum Yum cake. I want my Da!"

Bradwin sighed heavily. He should have brought Irmara with him. She would know what to do about the obstinate little hellion. "You cannot have your Da, but what you can have is a firm swat on the rump if you do not behave!"

Violet clenched her jaw and looked out the window, watching the rain drops ooze down the glass and wishing she could figure out how to get outside. She wriggled in her seat again, but it had her pinned right around the chest and the tops of her legs. She tried to kick the other man when Grandfather told him to bring her in the house the night before, but he was ready for it and caught her foot and laughed. No one laughed at Violet. No one. She made up her mind to make her own plan and get him back for that. It was exactly what Mumma would do.

Her lip started to quiver and she bit down, hard. She would not cry. Mumma wasn't crying and she would not, either. She just wanted to hear her. Even if she couldn't see her, she would know Mumma was okay if she would just say something. The transport hit another huge bump and then they stopped. There was a loud whirring noise and Violet knew they were stuck again. Good, she thought. Let them be stuck! She hoped the both of them got covered in mud and were shivery and cold all day long!

Bradwin slammed his hand on the seat. "Goddammit! Can't you do anything right?"

Jace bit back the string of curses he desperately wanted to unleash on the old man. He told him a transport would be a moronic thing to use to cross the plains, especially heading southeast. But Mr. B wouldn't even hear of riding horses, and what Mr. B wanted, he got. Jace grabbed the mud-caked shovel from the compartment next to his seat and stepped out into the rain. Securely out of range of Mr. B's hearing, he let his curses fly as he once again shoveled out the big tires that were bogged in the deep sludge.

Digging the large Southland transport out of the mud was a back-breaking task, especially in the pouring rain. As he had with the other stops, Jace attempted to do it by himself, knowing the day would go much better for him if he could manage the task alone. However, it quickly became clear that he was stuck enough to need another set of hands, and he sighed heavily, opened the door, and called for Mr. B's help. Bradwin swore, then shoved his arms back into his wet jacket and left the vehicle, slamming the door behind him.

Violet seized her opportunity. "Mumma, are you awake?" she called. There was no sound but the rain and the sploshing of the mud as the men shoveled outside. Violet tried to turn again in her seat, but couldn't crane her head around enough to see where they were keeping her mother. "Mumma," she said louder. "Mumma, please say something!" There was a groan and Violet let the tears of relief fall. "Mumma, it's me. Violet. Can you hear me?"

Scarab could hear Violet calling her. "I'm coming," she tried to say, but heard her own voice as no more than a mumble. She tried again and again, and still she only moaned.

"We're stuck in mud," Violet said in a hurry. "Grandfather and that smelly man are digging us out. I'm not hurt." Violet frowned, trying to think of anything else she should tell Mumma while the others weren't listening. Mr. McKay was always telling Beddick to notice everything around him and report back with details if he wanted to be a good warrior, and she was determined to try to do the same with her Mumma. "Oh! Grandfather has a bad head ache. And there's lots of dead grass outside."

Scarab heard Violet's voice and tried hard to concentrate. Why was Violet telling her all this? Her grandfather? What did Mordin have to do with anything? She opened her mouth to try speaking again when she heard a door open and Jace barking an order to someone else. Reality crashed down around her as the hazy events of the last couple days gained focus in her foggy mind. She opened her eyes, feeling the rush of nausea at the stab of light. She pressed her lips together tightly and took a deep breath. The door slammed again and it was quiet in the transport. "Violet?" she croaked.

"Mumma!"

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked as well as she could through her dry, cracked lips. Her mouth tasted like old metal and sand and her throat ached.

"All today and last night and most of yesterday."

That would make three days since they were abducted, wouldn't it? She cracked her eyes open again. It was definitely day time, and she could hear the pounding of rain. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I wanna go home," Violet said, her lip trembling again. She was so relieved to hear Mumma that she was very close to losing it. She clamped on her lip again, hard, and tasted blood.

"I know. But we can't get out of here yet." Scarab waited until the waves of nausea had settled. She could hear Jace and Bradwin sniping at each other outside, along with the sound of something scraping the side of the transport over and over. Did Violet say they were stuck?

"Mumma?"

"I'm here," she said, her arms longing to hold her daughter. No, she corrected. She wanted to kill Jace and Bradwin first, and then hold her daughter. She needed to make a plan. "Did they say where we are?"

"No. But there's grass everywhere," Violet told her mother again.

Plains. Good. That meant they were traveling in the open. "Have they said anything about people following us?"

"No."

"Have they said where we're going?"

"Grandfather keeps saying we're going home, but I know it's not really home."

Scarab heard the vehemence in her daughter's voice and was proud. "No, it's not. But you have to pretend. Do you remember what the wraiths do to lure people into their homes before they eat them?"

Violet swallowed hard. Those were the scariest stories her Mumma told her, and Da would roll his eyes and say "Scarab," in his best warning voice whenever she would start. Now, Violet was very glad her Mumma told her those tales. "They pretend to be people."

"Yes," said Scarab firmly. "And you have to pretend, too. You have to pretend and be like them, okay? You and me, we'll be wraiths."

Violet nodded with resolve. She liked the sound of that! She was about to promise her Mumma she'd be the best wraith ever when she saw her grandfather coming toward the door. "They're coming!"

"Play along," Scarab said quickly before the door opened to Bradwin's huffing and swearing.

"I can't do a damn thing about the weather, and bitching at me won't make this trip any better," said Jace as he slammed his own door and put the vehicle in gear. They spun and lurched and finally got up and out of the tracks. Jace glared at Mr. B in the rear view. "I didn't order this weather or this trip and I'm about fed up with taking the blame for both!"

Bradwin wriggled out of his soggy coat and threw it to the floor. "You are reducing your payment with every word, young man. I implore you to think of your bottom line before you speak to me in such a tone again!"

It wasn't about the money, Scarab thought. She knew with Jace it was deeper than that, and she wondered if he'd start fighting back. She could plan for an angry Jace. However, Tenet's father was still a largely unknown entity, and she hoped to have more time with them to formulate a plan. She hoped Jace didn't push it too hard, not yet. She needed to determine a few things first, like where they were. Then she could work on the old man, finding his weaknesses, how to get to him. And then she'd be able to plan an escape.

Jace clenched his jaw. It would be so easy to take out rotten old cur, and he had no doubts he could secure a passage on one of the cargo transports they now used to cross the Great Equatorial Desert without Bradwin's connections. He could off the bastard, take out the kid, and get the woman. But he had pride. No matter what else people thought of him, he took a great deal of pride in his work, in doing the job he was hired to do. He had a near perfect record that struck fear into the hearts of most major governments, and he lived for the terror his name alone could bring to their faces. He could kill them, and then he'd have to run and hide. Then he'd have to scurry off like a dog with his tail between his legs. When all was said and done, he didn't plan on being the one who had to live the rest of his life in the shadows and looking over his shoulder.

So Jace said nothing. He clenched his jaw until it ached and drove along the route the old bastard chose in the vehicle the ill-prepared moron selected on a mission that was doomed to fail from the beginning. He would do his job exactly as he was hired to do and then his reputation would stay intact. He glanced down at Scarab's monitors and felt his lips tug up in a smile. She was awake and her heart patterns had returned to normal. Suddenly, his day was starting to look up.

"Well, looks like the little desert bug isn't ready to give up on us yet," he said with amusement in his voice.

Bradwin was wiping his glasses off on his shirt. So the hunter was awake again. "You see, Violet?" he said, looking at the little girl. "I told you your mother was fine."

Fine? Scarab almost laughed out loud. Her arm was killing, her head still throbbed, and she couldn't move a muscle in the electromagnetic cuffs. Yeah. She was fine. She wished she could move, get a look outside. Violet said they were in grass, but what kind? How far did it go? There were so many things a five year old wouldn't think to notice. She needed to at least get a peek. A thought struck, and she hoped Violet would catch on. "I'm here, baby," she called to Violet, stressing the last word.

Da called her "baby". Mumma never did. Violet didn't know whether she should worry or if her Mumma was trying to send her a message, like when they were pretending to hunt. "Are you okay, Mumma?" she asked, trying to figure out if that's what she should do.

"Yes, sweetie," Scarab called, hoping Violet would follow along. "I just have to pee, though." When Violet giggled, Scarab squeezed her eyes shut. No, it's not funny! It's your cue, she said in her head. "It's been forever since I peed, honey."

Violet's eyes went wide. Oh! "I gotta pee, too." She crossed her ankles and started squirming. Scarab was very proud of her girl. "Grandfather, I gotta pee!"

Jace smirked. He had to admire Scarab's guts, even if she was dumb enough to think he wouldn't catch on. "Oh no you don't," he said, gunning the transport and moving faster. "Nice try, but we're not stopping."

Violet frowned and wriggled harder. "Come on, Grandfather. I'm going to pee right in my pants!"

Bradwin looked at the girl. She really was looking in a bad way, and it had been awhile since they stopped so she could have a break. He certainly didn't want to clean her up. "Maybe we should pull over."

"We just got back under way!" Jace sputtered. "If I stop now, we'll bog again."

"My back teeth are floating!" Violet wailed.

Bradwin sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. The crass things that came out of the child's mouth!

"I'm gonna pee all over the seat and it's gonna splosh all over you!"

Scarab almost laughed out loud. When her little girl wanted to sell something, she was as tenacious as Tenet. She could just picture the face Violet was making. She held her breath until finally Bradwin ordered Jace to stop.

"They're teaming up on you, Mr. B," Jace warned.

"They're teaming up on me to what end, Jace? To spoil the carpeting in my best transport? Don't be ridiculous. Pull over and take the girl first, then take the hunter out. You really do make things much more difficult than they have to be."

Jace stopped the transport and stared at Mr. B in the mirror for a minute before throwing the gear into park. "Fine. Have it your way. If they escape, it's on you."

Bradwin laughed. "Escape how? You've got one little girl and a shackled, beaten woman. If you can't handle it..." Bradwin let the words trail off, seeing the steam building in Jace's glare.

"I'm doin' it! I'm gonna pee!" Violet shouted.

Jace swore and opened the door. He stomped over to Violet's door and yanked it open. "You so much as try to run away and I'll leave you out here for the coonskunks to eat!"

Violet's eyes went wide. She believed he would do just that. She let him pick her up and out of the seat and said a prayer to the Mother to let her have some pee. She wasn't supposed to pray to the Mother, but she knew Mumma needed to be able to get outside for some reason and hoped she didn't ruin that. The Mother must have heard her because she was able to pee, and then she gave Jace a smug look. He quirked an eyebrow. "Better?"

Violet nodded. "Now it's Mumma's turn," she said when Jace was securing her back in her seat.

"Mumma can piss her pants for all I care," Jace said, pulling the strap around Violet's chest tight.

"For god's sake, Jace," Scarab said from the back, trying desperately to sound weak and beaten. "Do you really think I'll risk my daughter's life? I just need to take a piss."

Bradwin scoffed at her crass words and shook his head. "It's no wonder Violet speaks like a common seeder!"

Jace heard Scarab's tone and didn't believe her. He knew her too well to buy that line. But Mr. B was giving him that look again, the one that made him feel small and weak and useless, and damn if he didn't want to prove him wrong. He slammed Violet's door, then walked to the back of the transport. He gave it one more quick thought, then opened the back hatch. "If you want to get soaked from the rain and be even more miserable, be my guest, sweetheart."

Scarab looked up at Jace and was shocked at how much older he seemed. It had been over eight years since she'd seen him last, and those years had not been kind. His hair was thinning. He had crow's feet around his eyes and frown lines around his mouth. The mustache he wore was more silver than the dark brown she remembered, and something had given him a deep, purple scar across the bridge of his nose. The only thing that hadn't changed was the cold, calculating look he gave her. She knew that look. It used to make her heart flutter. Now, it just made her already rocky stomach heave.

Jace took out a unitool from his belt and held it up. "I need to reconfigure your bindings so you can walk. But be warned. You so much as twitch and I'll kill you in front of your daughter." He watched the flash of heat in Scarab's eye and felt the old familiar rush of his blood. She didn't answer but he knew she would obey. He yanked her up by her arm while pulling on her bound feet until she was sitting with her hands behind her and her feet dangling over the edge of the transport. He gave her another warning look before he waved the unitool over the invisible magnetic field that bound her feet.

Scarab felt the bindings lift and had an instant urge to kick out and then run, old instincts she carried from her time alone. But she was not alone, she had her daughter to protect, and she forced her feet to remain still. In seconds, blood flowed back into the limbs that had been useless for days and they began to tingle and burn. Scarab ignored the pain, never taking her eyes off Jace. It used to unnerve him when she would stare and she hoped it still made him squirm.

"Now, I'm going to put your hands to the front," he said, trying to ignore her glare. She was the only person he ever met in his life who could set him on edge with just a look, and he was frustrated to find that was still true. "No funny business," he warned. He waved the unitool, pulled her arms forward, then quickly turned the magnetic field back on when her arms were positioned to the front. He shoved the unitool in his pocket and pulled her up by her arm.

Scarab's feet hit the ground and it was all she could do to keep from pitching forward. She let her gaze leave Jace's face so she could concentrate on walking through the mud. They took several steps away from the transport and Jace let her go.

"There."

Scarab looked at him and lifted an eyebrow. "Uh, are you going to let me use my hands here?"

Jace let out a laugh. "Nice try." He reached over and unbuttoned her pants, then roughly shoved them down. "There."

Scarab refused to let herself blush. "Are you at least going to turn around?"

Jace didn't want to. God, he didn't want to! But he'd let her have this one. He turned slightly and listened to her relieve herself.

Scarab quickly scanned the horizon. They were in the Midland Plains still, though this particular area didn't look familiar. She couldn't see any signs of civilization, and wondered if that meant they were heading southeast. Yes, she thought. By now, they'd have hit more mountains if they were going to the west. Clearly Bradwin didn't want to be seen. That meant the government of the Borderlands didn't know he was within their border. If that was true, then they'd have to go through the eastern desert area to cross back into Southland. There would be plenty more wide, flat areas to travel. That was both good and bad. That lessened her chances of getting Violet out of there and hiding safely, but it made the odds that any party following could reach them before they hit the border much higher. She wished she could turn and scout for signs of...

Jace nudged her with his foot and pulled her up. "You're done pissing," he said roughly, pulling up her pants. "Back in with you." He pushed her forward towards the transport, and as soon as Scarab got a good look at their ride, it was immediately clear why Bradwin and Jace were staying away from population centers. The technology was completely foreign to the styles of transports available in the Borderlands and would have stuck out like a sore thumb in any population center.

"Nice ride, Jace."

"Stop talking," he said, pulling Scarab's arm to make her duck under the open hatch door.

"Blends in with the locals." Jace pitched her forward into the cargo area and her breath whooshed out with the impact of her chest hitting the floor.

"Don't hurt my Mumma!" Violet said, hearing the thump and her mother's breath. She began to struggle in her seat and Bradwin tried to calm her down.

"Mr. Jace didn't hurt your Mumma."

"She tripped," Jace said with a smirk. He pulled her up and spun her around. "And she'll be much more careful in the future, won't she?"

Scarab's eyes burned with hatred. "Yes," she said for Violet's benefit. "I will be very careful in the future."

Something in her tone did not set well with Jace. "Hold still," he said gruffly. He yanked the unitool from his pocket and waved it over the cuffs. He turned Scarab and secured her arms behind her once again. He felt better when her hands had been rendered useless. "Feet," he ordered.

Bradwin sighed. His granddaughter was worked up enough, and Jace's gruff words to her mother were going to make it worse. He would do just about anything for a quieter afternoon. "Leave the feet."

"But..."

"But nothing, Jace," Bradwin snapped. "What the hell can she do back there, hm? She's magnetically locked in. You've got every kind of monitor on her." He rubbed his tired eyes. "For goodness sake, she's pinned and caged and harmless. Let's just get moving."

"Yes, let's just get moving, Jace," Scarab said quietly.

Jace was tempted to secure Scarab's feet anyway, but knew she'd pitch a fit. She had him, and Mr. B helped. "Fine," he ground out. "But like Mr. B said, I've got eyes on you. Try anything funny..."

"What am I possibly going to try?" Scarab asked in an innocent voice. "Like Mr. B said, I'm harmless."

The cold in her eyes made Jace shiver. As he slammed the back hatch shut, he wondered idly if that's how his prey felt when he had them cornered. Harmless? Yeah. Right. He got in his seat and started the transport, then fixed the mirror to look to the back. Sure enough, she was sitting up, her eyes boring straight into his in the reflection. Mr. B had no idea what the hell he was doing, and Jace was convinced the man had to be the dumbest evil mastermind Jace had ever met. He shoved the mirror aside, not wanting to see either of them and drove on through the rain.

"I'm thirsty," said Scarab.

"I'm thirsty, too!" said Violet. Mumma's voice was close and she tried so hard to turn in her seat and see her.

"Stop thrashing before you hurt yourself," Bradwin ordered. His granddaughter stopped wiggling and he reached into the cooler and took out a bottle of water. He opened it and helped his granddaughter take a sip, then turned to Scarab and only his years of dominating the board rooms kept him from jumping back at the terrifying look in her eye. For a split second he was tempted to order Jace to stop and secure Scarab as she had been before the little break. But Violet had calmed, and he was correct in saying that there was nothing the hunter could do. Or, perhaps more accurately, _would_ do. She was not a stupid woman. Even if she did somehow manage to get herself into a position to run, she would not risk the life of her daughter.

"Drop the field, Jace," Bradwin said, telling himself his fears were ridiculous.

Jace shook his head but was beyond arguing. He hit the button that dropped the electromagnetic field that shielded the people in the cabin from their prisoner in the cargo hold. He moved the mirror and watch Mr. B help Scarab drink some water, his finger hovering over the button just in case he had to put the shield up quickly.

Scarab was surprised that Bradwin gave her water. He was certainly proving to be more of a mystery than she would have thought. She was not naive enough to believe Bradwin acted out of kindness. There was no kindness in the cold man in front of her, and she didn't for a second let herself pretend there was. However, the reasons behind his actions weren't clear. Perhaps she was just still foggy. She took several large sips and then nodded.

Bradwin capped the bottle then forced himself to turn around. He didn't want the hunter thinking he was in any way afraid of her. Just like in business, you never let them see your fear. "Place the shield back up," he said casually to Jace.

Scarab leaned forward, testing. She heard the hum of the shield then felt a crippling jolt shoot through her temple and neck, making her collapse.

"Mumma!"

"I'm fine!" Scarab panted, trying to shake off the effects.

"Electromagnetic, sweetheart," Jace called back with glee. "Not just for cattle anymore."

Scarab worked her way back up to her knees and leaned against the side of the transport trying to shake off the electric tingles that raced up and down her spine. She had to be in a shock collar, only this one linked directly to the brain monitor on her temple. It was tech the ranchers used to keep cattle in their pens. She didn't know they developed that type of restraint system for people. Six years away from new developments really put her at a disadvantage.

"I suggest you don't try that one again," Bradwin said calmly, looking over his shoulder.

Scarab heard the little camera whir near her head. She turned and gave it a scathing look, then heard Jace's laughing response. She pushed against the side of the transport with her shoulder and turned to kneel where she had been before, looking through her invisible cage into the mirror at the front of the vehicle. If Jace was going to stare at her, she'd stare right back.

They drove in silence for awhile until Violet got fidgety. She wanted to hear her mother again. "Mumma, tell me a story."

"No stories," said Jace quickly. Scarab was cunning, and it was becoming clearer and clearer to Jace that she was raising her daughter the same way. He didn't plan on giving her any chance to signal a plan to her daughter.

"You like stories?" Bradwin asked, turning from his window. When Violet nodded, he smiled. "Your father used to like stories, too. Shall I tell you one of his favorites?"

It wasn't going to be one of Mumma's stories, but if Da liked it, she would, too. "Sure."

Sure? Bradwin shook his head. "It's 'yes', not 'sure'," he corrected automatically and Scarab cringed. She hated that Tenet was in any way like this man. If she ever saw Tenet again, she'd tell him he was never allowed to correct them again.

When. When she saw Tenet, she told herself.

"Well, then," Bradwin said, clearing his throat. "Let's begin. Once upon a time, there was a little boy..."

Violet crinkled her nose. "I don't want a story about a boy."

"Fine. Once upon a time, there was a little girl." He looked to Violet who nodded her approval. "This little girl lived on a great alfalfa farm."

Scarab frowned and Violet tilted her head. "What's alfalfa?"

"It's a vegetable. Now hush or we'll never get through this story. Her father was given the farm at great expense to the government, and instead of being grateful, he was bitter and angry. He started to teach the little girl how to be bitter and angry, too, and worse than that, he taught her that it was okay to kill people she didn't like."

Violet gasped. "No!"

"Yes," said Bradwin, leaning toward his granddaughter. "And she liked to do it, too!"

Scarab silently seethed. She knew then exactly what Bradwin was doing. He wasn't being kind to his granddaughter, he was starting to turn her against them. "This is one of Tenet's favorites?" she said, with as much control as she could muster.

Bradwin turned in his seat and looked Scarab right in the eye. "Apparently it's one he simply adores."

There was nothing Scarab could do. There was nothing Scarab could say. As Bradwin continued to spin a wild tale loosely based on her life, Scarab had no choice but to hold her tongue. Jace smirked in the mirror. She bet he was absolutely loving this torture. And still she held back all she wanted to say. Her daughter was wrapped up in the tale. She could imagine Violet's wide eyes, the look she got when she was taking something in, holding it close. She knew Violet would remember the story forever, and she feared the day Violet found out the story was really about her. Bradwin made the girl in the story sound like a monster. He made the girl sound exactly like what Scarab had always feared in herself, and by the time he was done and Violet had fallen asleep, Scarab felt numb.

They weren't simply going to take her daughter from Scarab, they were going to make her daughter hate her first. They were going to make Violet turn away in disgust, just like the rest of the world. Scarab leaned back against the transport wall, helpless and sick with useless rage. She begged silently for Tenet to come for her. The camera arm hummed and Jace's chuckle reached the cargo bay. She couldn't stop herself from kicking out her foot and knocking the little camera off the control arm. It felt so good to actually be able to do something that she kicked again and it shattered against the floor.

Bradwin chuckled. "I guess someone didn't like our bedtime story, Mr. Jace."

"All the world's a critic," Jace said, grinning at Mr. B. The old man had a few tricks up his sleeve after all. He had managed to get to Scarab. Someone finally cracked the shell. And now Jace knew exactly how to get to her, he planned to take full advantage. He'd have her begging for him soon enough.

The transport hit a mud hole and only Jace's quick reflexes kept them from bogging again. He turned his concentration back to the ground ahead and wondered how far they were from the pick up point. They should have reached it the day before, and perhaps if they had better weather. He sighed heavily and pushed on. He just had to reach the pick up point, and then he would have all the time in the world to think about Scarab and the rest of their life together.

Chapter 6

The horses needed rest, and the men needed it just as badly. Yet, they were so close. Though Wren couldn't see the transport, if they could keep running at their current speed, he felt sure he would soon. The clumps of mud kicked up by the wheels of the vehicle hadn't had a chance to soften and run back into the ground from the rain, which meant they were within miles. As exhausted as they all were, there simply was no time to stop.

Wren leaned forward and raised his back end, shifting his weight on his horse to allow the beast to run even faster. The warriors behind him did the same, and Lendyl called over his shoulder for Tenet to follow suit.

"We're close, Tenet!" he said excitedly. Wren only rode like that when they had caught a herd and were hot on the heels of a big animal.

Tenet did his best to copy their motions and was soon riding faster than he'd ever ridden before, holding on for dear life and straining to see through the rain. He didn't know how Wren was so sure, but the man was, and he trusted him. He tried to get his heart to slow down. What would they find when they caught up? Would there be a fight? Of course there would be a fight. Would he have to kill his father? He damn well would if it came down to it!

"Tenet! Look!" Lendyl yelled, pointing in the distance.

Tenet squinted in the rain and saw at the very horizon a large, dark blur on the ground. Old memories gripped him and he suddenly realized he was staring at an air transport. "No," he whispered harshly. "No!" he screamed. He urged his horse faster, faster. They were about to fly away! "Wren!"

"Ha!" Wren yelled at his horse, pushing the animal as hard as he could. They would not lose. He was the lead warrior for the great Ogden septad and he forbade defeat! He yanked his bow from the sheath on his back and held it toward the sky, asking the Mother to bless his arrows and make them true.

Scarab struggled in Jace's grasp and watched helplessly as her daughter was shoved into the hover plane. She had yelled and screamed her voice raw until Jace shoved a wad of cloth in her mouth to shut her up. Violet kicked and screamed until a large man in a black uniform carried her off to the waiting plane. Scarab heard her release one more ear-shattering screech, and then the hum of the rotors drowned out any more.

Bradwin walked over to where Scarab and Jace stood and yelled to be heard over the noisy transport. "I'd like to say it's been a pleasure meeting you, but..." He patted Scarab's cheek. "Don't worry about Violet. She'll be far safer than she's ever been. After all, I won't be so careless as to let someone simply walk away with her. She'll get a proper education, have real medicine, live a life you could never give her. Why, she'll be a national treasure. My long lost granddaughter, taken back from the heathen bitch who kidnapped my son. If I were you, I'd spend my last few hours on earth comforted by that."

Scarab tried with all her might to will herself free. She felt her muscles clench so tightly against their magnetic restraints that she knew she was close to doing her body real damage. She didn't care. She was beyond thought. She needed to get to Violet. Never in her entire life had she felt so useless.

"That cargo transport will be waiting at Terminal B of the Clough Pass station," Bradwin said to Jace. "That will settle our debts."

"Yes, sir," Jace agreed. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Bradwin gave a little huff and turned and walked away.

Jace's grip on Scarab's arm tightened. "Stop before you hurt yourself. It's too late."

Bradwin boarded the plane and Scarab lurched forward. The door to the plane closed and she tried to throw herself at it, her mind screaming. The great rotors under the vessel increased in speed and Jace pulled Scarab around to face him. "Aw, now, sweetheart," he said when he saw her teary eyes. "You heard him. He'll give her a good life. Trust me, the man's loaded. She'll have everything she ever wanted."

Scarab's rage was useless against the plane. She could do nothing to Bradwin. She couldn't tear him to pieces. But there was still someone to vent her fury on and she turned every ounce of anger towards Jace.

Jace swallowed hard at the look in her eyes. He raised his hand and cupped her cheek. "Look, I've got a transport waiting to take me across the desert. We'll go south, start the life we used to talk about."

Scarab could not believe her ears. Was he serious? Was he honestly so delusional that he would think she could ever, ever forgive him? Didn't he understand that he'd already signed his own death contract? His hand on her cheek was cold and disgusting, the hand of a dead man.

Jace frowned. "Now, Scarab," he said as patiently as he could. "You knew how this would play out. You got six years more than you should have and you damn well know it. Be thankful for what you got and move on."

She was going to take her fingers and slowly drive them into his eyeballs slowly. She was going to take out her knife and slice open his belly and let the coonskunks eat at his guts while he was still alive. She was going to...

"Now, if you play nice, I'll let you join me and we can have a life." Jace licked his lips. "Come on, Scarab. It's what you always wanted." He was close enough to smell her. His heart began to pound so hard in his chest he was sure she could feel it, too. He gave a small laugh. "God, I suddenly feel like a horny teenager." He brushed the hair from her eyes. "Don't tell me you don't feel it, too, baby," he whispered.

Scarab did feel something. She felt a hard thumping coming from the ground and knew it was horses. She saw Jace turn his head a fraction of a second before they were violently ripped apart.

Tenet jumped off his horse as soon as it crashed into Jace. He knew Wren and the others would secure the hunter. With a single-minded focus, he landed hard on the muddy ground and scrambled to get to Scarab. She was face down in the mud and for a heart-stopping second, he was afraid he had hurt her. But as soon as he turned her over and saw her dark, shining eyes, he finally let himself feel something beyond anger. He pulled her to him and kissed her head, her face, her hair. She mumbled something and he pulled the rag from her mouth.

"The plane!" Scarab yelled.

Tenet's hold on her tightened as he watched the air transport speed off toward the horizon.

"What are you waiting for?" she screamed in a panicked voice. "Go get her!"

Tenet shook his head. "I can't chase down an air ship on a horse."

Scarab was near her breaking point. It was one thing to be hard and cold and calculating when she was being held captive in the back of a transport, all alone, miserable, and uncomfortable. There was something so familiar about that environment, and she had found it surprisingly easy to revert to her old training. However, comfort, Tenet's comfort, threatened to shatter the walls again. "You have to try," she insisted, her voice breaking.

Tenet smoothed her hair and looked her in the eye. "I thought I lost you."

Scarab closed her eyes, squeezing them to keep the tears away. "I can't move," she said quickly, desperately trying not to succumb to the fear and anguish and pain of the last few days. Not then. There would be time later, after she had her daughter back.

Tenet looked over her body and couldn't see any cuffs or ropes, just some disconnected bracelets. "How are you bound?"

"Electromagnets," she said. "Jace has a unitool."

Tenet pulled Scarab back to her feet and turned around. Wren and Takar held Jace between them on his knees, each man holding one of his arms and a large fistful of hair. Blood trickled from Jace's lips, and a large bruise was already forming on his eye. Tenet made sure Scarab was steady on her feet without his support and walked over to the man. "Where's the unitool?" he asked.

Jace knew he was beaten. He knew there would be no getting out of this one alive. The very best he could do was be as big a pain in the ass as he could until he died. He worked his mouth until it filled with the tinny tasting blood and spat it right in Tenet's face. He got a kick in the back for it from one of the barbarians holding him, but as Jace watched the punk wipe the bloody spittle off his face, he decided it was worth it.

Tenet saw red. He'd always heard that expression before, but never really understood what it really meant until that very moment. His hand twitched again with the need to hit something, to bash itself into someone, and for the first time in his life, he gave into that desire. He heard the dull smack of his fist hitting Jace's jaw and was surprised in an odd, detached way that he didn't actually feel the impact. He looked down at his own fist, then up to the surprised face of Wren. The warrior looked almost horrified, and even though he heard Takar's encouraging hoot, Wren's shocked expression brought Tenet back to reality. He hastily fumbled around Jace's pockets until he found the unitool.

With shaking hands he returned to Scarab. "I...I don't know how..." he began.

"Press the decom button and wave it over the wrist bracelet and ankle ring," Scarab said carefully, knowing Tenet well enough to understand that he was close to his own breaking point. She never before saw him become violent, and she decided she never wanted to witness it again.

Tenet did as Scarab instructed, and in a moment she stumbled, her arms and legs suddenly unbound. Scarab reached up and ripped off the necklace she wore. "Shock collar," she told Tenet when he saw the raw, red welts around her neck. Tenet clenched his jaw against the anger, and caught her elbow and held on until she was steady.

Scarab had to move. If she didn't move, she couldn't stay strong. Already the adrenaline was waning. It had been days since she'd eaten, and her body had been through some fairly alarming electroshocks. In a few moments, she would not be able to stop herself from collapsing, and she couldn't let that happen.

Tenet let Scarab go when she looked to Jace. He knew that look in his wife's eye and he wondered if that was the same look he just had on his own face when he hauled off and bashed the man. He crossed his arms over his chest and stood, watching. It may be Scarab's score to settle, but he planned on enjoying every minute of watching the bastard suffer.

Scarab stood in front of Jace. She held his cold glare for a minute until she could tamp down her anger enough to think clearly. She needed information. In her few bursts of consciousness, Bradwin had been very careful, revealing few details of his plan. She had no idea where Bradwin was heading, or what his end goal really was. There was more behind Bradwin's actions than simply taking Violet, and Scarab she was sure of it. As infuriating as it was, they had one connection to her daughter now, and if she gave into her anger, she'd blow their best chance at getting Violet back.

Scarab held her breath and counted to ten while she considered her options. She could simply ask, but she knew Jace would either laugh or spit in her face as well. She's have to make him an offer he couldn't pass up in exchange for the information. Jace was going to die, of that there was no doubt in any of the people present in that muddy, wet clearing. Her only bargaining chip was the hidden cowardice very few people knew was at Jace's hollow core. After a few tense, silent moments, Scarab held her hand out to Lendyl. "Bow," she said simply.

Lendyl frowned and looked to Wren. At his leader's nod, he handed over his bow.

"Arrow."

Again, Wren nodded his approval, and Lendyl pulled an owl-fletched arrow from his quiver and carefully passed it to Mrs. Lorne.

Scarab notched the arrow and drew the bowstring, then leveled the arrow tip at Jace's head. "Where is he taking her?"

Jace let out a miserable little laugh. "Now, sweetheart. You know I never kiss and tell."

Scarab tightened her hold and the taut string creaked with the pressure. She lowered the arrow tip to Jace's heart. "You talk, I let you die clean." She moved the tip even lower, pointing it to his abdomen. "You don't talk, I'll gut shoot you and let you suffer for days."

"You're bluffing," he sneered. "You'd always be looking over your shoulder to see if I somehow managed to survive. There's no way in hell you'd walk away with me still alive."

Scarab nodded. "You're absolutely right. I'll stake you to the ground and watch while the coonskunks gnaw out your intestines. You will die knowing that I'll carry the image of your torture with me forever, that I'll bring up that thought in my darkest of days to give me comfort."

"You're bluffing," Jace said with less conviction.

"Try me."

Jace swore, a feeling of dread sinking deep in his stomach. "After all we've been through, you'd really do that to me?"

"It's no more than you threatened to do to my daughter," she said coldly. Her arm was starting to strain. "I've been through a lot the past few days and right now you're putting a whole lot of faith in my ability to keep holding this string. You better pick while you still have a choice."

Jace looked into the icy eyes of the woman he loved for so much of his life. They should be sitting on a beach somewhere drinking fancy drinks and whiling away the rest of their days. Wasn't that what they always talked about doing? Hadn't they earned it a thousand times over? When had it all gone so wrong? "Life catches up to you, doesn't it?" he asked, as he had dozens of times before. Only this time, instead of saying "Only if you stop running," as she always had in the past, she simply glared back at him, a complete and utter stranger.

Jace took a deep breath. He didn't deserve to die clean, and he damn well knew it. It shocked the hell out of him that she'd even give him that choice. In her shoes, he wouldn't do the same. "You've changed," he said. "It was a job, Scarab. It wasn't personal."

Scarab scoffed. "You stole my daughter. It doesn't get any more personal than that!"

Jace sighed heavily. The woman he loved was gone. She simply did not exist anymore. In her place was an even more unforgiving figure. "No," he said quietly. "I guess it doesn't." He saw Scarab's arm begin to shake. There was just a small tick in her forearm, but he knew she wasn't kidding when she said she was close to collapse. He knew the hours and days of agony he'd have if she actually shot him in the gut. He'd been on the other side of things enough times to know what a horrible way that would be to die. Hell, that one woman at the burnt out homestead across the border hung on for five days. Five! And Jace knew he deserved that death. He was a bad man who spent his life doing bad things for money, and he knew full well he earned himself a long, torturous, agony-filled ending. And yet, Scarab offered him one final reprieve. Jace gave a sad laugh as life once again proved there was no such thing as fairness.

"Wheat," Jace said after a moment, his decision made. "He's got some fancy wheat farm or something."

Tenet frowned. "Are you sure? They're usually in the corn sector this time of year."

"Wheat," Jace repeated firmly. "I'm sure. Why do you think we're heading east, brainiac?" Jace grunted when one of the warriors tugged his head sharply. "I'm telling the truth," he insisted looking Scarab in the eye. "He said something about training her away from the press or some shit like that. They're stopping in Leonsburg for some summit, then heading to his wheat field."

Scarab studied the eyes of the stranger she used to know. She believed him. Without allowing herself time to get angry again, she moved the arrow to Jace's heart.

"No last words, sweetheart?" he asked sadly, giving her the half smile that used to make her do anything he asked. Scarab pressed her lips firmly together and held his gaze for a long moment, a world of history passing between them silently. Jace couldn't take it. For some reason, that kind of torture was far worse than a few coonskunks gnawing at his insides. For the first time in his life, he felt regret, and the bitter taste of it clogging his throat was too much. "Do it," he whispered fiercely, begging for it to just end.

Scarab released the bowstring and Jace's eyes went wide for a split second before they rolled back in his head and he slumped in the warriors' grasp. She didn't feel relief that one enemy was finally gone, nor did she feel any sadness for the loss of anything they used to have. She stared at the body and felt absolutely nothing.

Scarab's arm dropped in exhaustion as she simply stood and stared. Tenet motioned for Wren and Takar to strip anything of use from Jace, and he placed a hand on Scarab's back. Scarab looked numbly at the bow in her hand and she held it up to Lendyl. "Thank you for the use of your bow in slaying my enemy," she said wearily.

Lendyl was uncomfortable with the way the kill happened, but he wisely said nothing. Giving her a nod, he took his bow and decided to speak to Wren about it later.

Scarab felt a shiver run through her body. After a few seconds, she felt another. Soon she was shivering uncontrollably. "Tenet," she said, through chattering teeth. "I...can't stop...shaking..."

"We need to get somewhere warm," Tenet barked to Wren.

Wren looked up from the prayer he was saying over the fallen enemy and saw the urgent look in Tenet's eye. One glance at Mrs. Lorne was all it took to know Tenet was right. He turned to Takar and made a few hand motions. In seconds, Takar was on his horse racing away from them. Wren stood and wiped his muddy, bloody hands on his pants as he walked over to the Lornes. "I have sent Takar to scout," he said. "He will find a place to rest."

"We...have to...get Violet..." Scarab said through her shivers. She cursed herself for getting so weak over the years, and desperately tried to will her body to stop its ridiculousness. No matter how hard she tried, though, she could not get herself under control.

Tenet removed a blanket from his pack and wrapped it around Scarab, even though he doubted it would do any good. She was beginning to show the signs of shock, and he needed to get her somewhere warm, dry, and safe. "Let's get you in the transport until..."

"No!" Scarab said vehemently before she shuddered again.

Tenet's jaw clenched at her reaction and he had to push away the anger once more at the thoughts of what may have happened in the transport. He looked to Wren for advice, but Wren was clearly at a loss as well.

Scarab frowned at the men. "Stop looking...like I'll break. Saddle up. Move out." Even though she spoke in quick sentences, her voice was still raw and her teeth chattered, the combination taking all authority out of the order.

"The only place we're moving to is a shelter for tonight." Tenet saw the hurt and outrage in Scarab's eyes and felt his own guilt flare up. He knew she wanted to get Violet back as badly as he did. But he also knew he had just gotten his wife back and he'd be damned if he was going to lose her to hypothermia or shock. The warriors were strung out, and the horses were all but useless in their exhaustion. They all needed rest. It wasn't just something they wanted, something they wished for. It was an absolute need. The group knew where his father was taking Violet, and Tenet was certain that Bradwin's plan wasn't to harm her. The very best thing they could do for her was to stop, rest, and regroup. They'd be no good to Violet dead.

"We can't afford to wait," Scarab said through the teeth she clenched to make them stop clacking together.

Tenet held up a hand. "I want to get her just as badly as you do."

Scarab scoffed. "Do you?" She instantly wanted to take it back.

Tenet's eyes went wide and he stepped back as if she slapped him. "How could you even..." He bit off the rest of the words and shook his head. He knew her. He knew she was just lashing out because of her own guilt, but it still didn't take away the sting. "Look at yourself," he said after a few tense seconds. "Look at all of us. We have no choice but to stop."

Scarab knew it. She knew she was about to drop, and it hadn't escaped her attention that the others were damn near the breaking point as well. Even the horses were sagging. She knew Tenet was right, and yet the part of her that felt like it was ripped away when that air ship took off still called for her to push forward. Her lip quivered and her eyes watered and she never felt so helpless, weak, and useless. "We have to get her," she insisted on a hoarse whisper.

Tenet pulled her to him and held her tightly, suddenly realizing he was shaking as well. "We will," he said firmly. "I got you, right?"

Takar whistled from the stand of trees to the south, and Tenet lifted his head. Takar was making signs to Wren, and in a moment, Wren nodded firmly and told them to mount up. Tenet had to help Scarab get on his horse, and he began to think like a healer instead of a terrified father and angry husband. He made a mental checklist in his head, a plan for how he'd treat Scarab for her injuries in a cold, distant way that gave his tortured thoughts a reprieve.

Not far into the stand of forest was another clearing containing an old farmhouse and three barns. The home was not abandoned, but the elderly farmer and his family sorely needed the coin Tenet offered for the use of one of the crumbling barns, even though he eyed the Celtist warriors with trepidation.

"Was that all our money?" Scarab asked when Tenet took the reins and lead their horse to the far side of the farm yard.

"We'll make more," was his only reply.

They settled into the barn quickly, and Wren dispatched Lendyl to gather up broken bits of wood that sat in heaps in the rundown building. While they built a fire, Tenet tethered the horses and dragged over some old hay. Scarab tried to help, but when she realized her fumbling was just getting in the way, she sat down on a dusty hay bale by the fire. When the horses were wiped down and fed, Tenet removed his saddle pack and pulled out a dry blanket and his herbs.

"Come," Wren instructed his men. "The battle has ended. Time for meditation." He was giving Tenet and Scarab some privacy, and Tenet tipped his head in thanks as the warriors went to the ladder and climbed into the loft for their prayers.

Tenet sat on the bale of hay next to Scarab and gently guided her to turn and face him. He ran a hand over her hair before forcing himself to get to business. "Where are you hurt?"

"Left arm and neck."

Tenet gently lifted her chin and looked at the burns. Only his years as a healer let him keep his features calm in spite of the new boiling rage inside. Though the burns were not very deep, the fact that anyone would dare do something like that to his wife made him wish he had punched Jace more before he died. Suddenly the clean kill Scarab offered the man churned up the acids in his stomach. Not trusting himself to speak, he pulled an oiled skin pouch from his herb bag and dipped his fingers into the soothing salve. He spread it as gently as he could over her neck and when he was done, he finally felt calm enough to speak. "You said it was a shock collar. Like for cattle?"

"I guess for people now, too," she said as she watched the vein in Tenet's temple throb.

"I see," he said tightly. Without any more discussion, he gently unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it off. When she shivered, he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and laid the shirt by the fire to dry. He turned back and held the blanket open to look her over. Satisfied that the bruises on her ribs were only on the surface and not indicators of broken bones, he tucked her back into the blanket, leaving only her left arm uncovered. He poked and prodded until he hit a spot that made her wince.

"I've got to..." he began, the apology already in his voice for the pain he was about to inflict.

"Do it." Scarab clenched her teeth and balled her right hand up around the blanket until she could feel the nails dig into her palm even through the layers of material while Tenet poked and prodded some more. She only relaxed when he stopped and looked up at her. "Broken?"

Tenet shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Were...were you kicked?" Scarab didn't have to answer. His lips pressed into a firm line and he went back to his bag. He couldn't go back in time and make it not happen, but he could fix it. He took a few pinches from several bags and dropped them into a cup. He rose and walked to his saddle that lay on the hay near the horses. He pulled his water flask off the saddle clip, then dumped some water into the cup of herbs. He swirled the mix together, then gave it to Scarab to drink. Though she made a horrible face at the bitter concoction, she drank it all down.

Tenet made her rise and stripped off her pants. After he eased her back down on the hay, he gently took her feet one at a time into his lap to look at the marks around the ankles. The electromagnetic cuffs left bruises, but none of the burns the shock collar made. He rubbed them with another ointment, one that would soothe the ache. Once that was done, he was satisfied that he'd done all he could for Scarab medically. He removed his own shirt to lay it by the fire, then pulled his wife into his lap, wrapping the blanket around them both and simply holding her.

"Tenet, I'm..."

"Shh," he said. He kissed the top of her head.

"You're shaking," she said quietly.

"Yes."

Scarab wanted to ask him if he was injured. She wanted to assure him she would be fine. She wanted to tell him about everything she observed and her thoughts on how to get Violet back. But the fire crackled, and Tenet's heart thumped on her cheek, and his comforting arms were around her. It all worked against her, and she felt sleep pull at her. She idly wondered what the herbs Tenet gave her contained, but she couldn't make her mouth form the words to ask.

"I thought I lost you," Tenet whispered as he kissed her head. "I would die without you." He felt her body going slack and shifted her weight into a more comfortable position. "I love you," he murmured before he joined her in sleep.

Chapter 7

Irmara paced the marble floors of the northeast wheat manor, her clicking heels echoing through the spacious room. She clutched her hands in front of her and stepped to peer out the window again. She was nervous, a feeling she rarely felt anymore, and couldn't pinpoint why. She was to meet a child. A small one, at that. How many children had she met over the years? Not only her two and her other grandchildren, but all the children she treated on the ranches, all those she healed. It was ridiculous to be nervous to meet one more. Ah, but none of those other children were Tenet's.

Nada flipped the page of the entry book and studied the next column of numbers, checking the books on the accounts for the wheat ranch. Her mother's constant pacing was grating on her last nerve and she sighed heavily. "Sit down!" she snapped. "You're giving me a migraine."

Irmara shot her daughter a dry look. "You cannot get a migraine from the sound of me pacing."

Nada leaned back in her chair and fluttered her hand in front of her face. "Then stress. You are giving me stress! You know that's not good for me."

Irmara stared at her daughter with haughty contempt. Had she really raised such a spoiled woman? Nada fanned herself and turned a sulky glare at her mother, and Irmara had to look away. She long ago gave up caring about Nada's antics. "Then call your husband and have him bring you your pills," she said dully.

Nada frowned. "I do not need pills," she snapped. "I simply need you to stop pacing. I don't know why you're so nervous to meet the little heathen."

Irmara rounded on her daughter. "Don't you say that!"

Nada's eyes went wide. Her mother never broke her composure like that, and for a moment she didn't know what to do. "It's...it's no more than the truth," she sputtered, saying what they'd all been saying for months while her father planned the rescue.

Irmara tucked an errant lock of hair back in place, noticing her hands were shaking. She would not give her daughter the satisfaction of seeing her come unglued, she simply would not! "You will not forget that she is also your brother's daughter and your one and only niece," she said coolly.

Nada let out a small snort. "A bastard born to a witch," she said, snapping the ledger closed. "Don't worry, Mother," she said before her mother could get started again. "I'll play the nice aunt. But if you think I'll let her taint my own children..."

"Yes," said her mother. "Wouldn't it be a shame if one of them actually started to develop a personality?"

Nada's eyes went wide and she stood up. "I understand that this is a stressful time for you, Mother, but I will not stand by while you disparage your _real_ grandchildren!" She spun around and stomped from the room, calling for her husband, Merle, to bring her some pills.

Irmara sighed with relief. She didn't like to speak badly of any child, especially her own grandchildren. But the twins were about as intelligent as a ball of yarn, and she had more fun watching the harvester shake the cornstalks than she did spending the afternoon with the four year olds. She often wondered how they could be so dull when she stared at their blank eyes while they picked their noses or drooled. Nada was a fun child. Well, active, at any rate. She could hardly ever have called Nada fun. Still, she did things when she was younger. Maybe it was Tenet the whole time. Maybe Tenet was the one to push her, to make her get up and play. Would Tenet's child be boring? She couldn't imagine he'd have a boring child. She felt a prick on the back of her hand and looked down, shocked to find it came from her own finger nails clenching tight. She instantly dropped her hands and ordered herself to calm down.

The sound of a transport approaching made Irmara jump and run to the window. So much for calming down! The hover plane kicked up great clouds of dust as it landed, and she found it impossible to see through. She sighed and turned, quickly making her way through the great house to the door where she could get her first look at the grandchild she never thought she'd be able to meet. She waited, drawing on the years of practice she spent by her husband's demanding side to get her through the next few anxious minutes. When she was about ready to scream and stomp in frustration, the door opened and a gust of dusty air filled the immaculate room.

"Oh Bradwin!" she chided, shielding her face. "Must they land it so close?"

"Hush yourself, Irmara," he said, pulling the little girl through the door and slamming it shut against the wind. It certainly was not the dignified entrance he had hoped for, and no doubt Irmara would gripe for months about the ruined finish on the floors. But it could not be helped. "There's press near the road. Press! How the hell did they catch wind of this?" He peeked out the window, trying to squint past the dust cloud and get a sense of how many media whores were at the gate. "Confound it, woman! I asked you how they know? Did you go running your mouth to your..." his words trailed off when he turned and looked at his wife. Irmara was thunderstruck, and that was something he hadn't seen in her for years. He blinked and looked down at his granddaughter. The little girl simply stood there looking lost and scared, but at the same time, very curious.

"Oh," Irmara said as she stared at the dark eyed little girl. Tenet's child. She felt a well of emotion bubble up and had to catch herself. "Oh, Bradwin. She doesn't look a thing like him!" Much to Bradwin's surprise, his wife was smiling. And were those tears in her eyes?

Irmara took a step closer to the little girl. She was terrified, but there was something else there in her eyes, a sharpness, a depth, a spark of life. The girl was scared, but she was thinking. "I'm your grandmother," Irmara said, taking another step closer.

"I want my Da," Violet said, her lip shaking.

Irmara's breath hitched in her chest. Her Da, Tenet. Tenet was truly a father. She always knew he would be, even though no woman had wanted him. She always knew he would be a father, and a far better one than she or he had known in their own childhoods. "I know, Violet," Irmara said carefully. "I would very much like to see your Da, too."

Bradwin scoffed. "Oh, for goodness sake. _Now_ you're getting that mothering spark? Now that's it's thirty years too late?"

Leave it to Bradwin to kill a beautiful moment. Irmara felt the ice settle in her veins. Of course he would kill it. He would take any ounce of beauty and kindness in the world and crush it under his foot and laugh the whole time. Irmara held her hand out to Violet. "Come, Violet. You are a sight and you must be cleaned."

Violet didn't want to go with the lady, but she wanted to stay with her grandfather even less. She took the woman's hand and let her lead her through an enormous building, the likes of which she had never seen. The closest thing she could think of was the hotel lobby in Nortaberg. "Is this a hotel?"

Irmara let herself laugh. "No, this is one of our homes."

"You live here?"

"Yes."

Violet looked around in wonder. "Where's the water pump?"

Irmara stopped. "Water pump?"

"Yeah, to get water."

"Goodness, we don't use water pumps. We have taps."

Violet's face crinkled. "Taps?"

"Oh heavens me. They said life up there was rustic. I didn't know how bad. Yes, child. Taps. You turn the knob and water pours out. Now, come with me and you can see for yourself in a nice, hot bubble bath."

"What's a bubble bath?"

Irmara groaned. This was going to be a far greater challenge than she thought. "Enid!" she called, searching for her maid.

"Yes, ma'am?" a woman said, popping out of a room. She saw Violet and her eyes went wide.

"Enid, we need to take my granddaughter into the bathroom and get her scrubbed up immediately."

"Yes ma'am," the woman said quickly, then raced ahead of them.

"Is Enid my aunt?" Violet asked.

Irmara blanched at the very thought. "Goodness, no! Where ever did you get an idea like that?"

"My grandfather said I would meet you and my aunt."

"You will, but not yet. Not until we make you presentable."

Violet reached out to touch a big, pretty, shiny thing as they passed. "What's presentable?"

"Don't touch that!" Irmara said quickly, giving a gentle tug on her hand to steer her away from the expensive vase. She never had to worry about the vases getting broken when Nada's children were around. It looked like she had to start worrying. She made a mental note to tell Enid to put all breakables up out of Violet's reach. "Presentable means clean and tidy and neat."

Violet looked down at her clothes. "I'm all grubby."

"Yes," said Irmara. "We'll wash you up and then put you in a nice new dress. Would you like that?"

"No," said Violet honestly. "Dresses are scratchy. And you can't ride in them."

Irmara almost afraid to ask. "Er, ride what?"

"A horse," Violet said, rolling her eyes. Didn't her grandmother know anything?

"Ride...a..." Irmara blanched again and held her hand to her heart. Did the child honestly say ride a horse? Just what kind of life was Tenet letting this precious little girl live? Ride a horse, indeed! "There will be no horse riding, young lady. Imagine how it would feel to have someone sit on you and ride you around all day long!"

"Da lets me sit on him and he doesn't care." Violet felt her lip quiver again. "When can I see Da?"

Irmara pulled herself together. "Let's just worry about one thing at a time, shall we? Let's get you clean. We'll start with that." She tugged on Violet's hand and Violet let herself be pulled through the huge house.

It turned out a bubble bath was great fun. For her, anyway. Violet didn't get the feeling that her grandmother liked it very much when the bubbles got everywhere. Enid laughed, but her grandmother didn't seem to like that, either. Violet didn't care. It was warm and the bubbles smelled like flowers and were fluffy and went all over the place when she blew on them. She even held still while Enid washed her hair just so she could feel the bubbles tickle down her back. After the bath, her grandmother wrapped her in a big warm shirt she called a robe and then Enid blew hot air all over her head while her grandmother brushed her hair.

Violet looked at the air blower curiously. "How do you get the hot air to come out of that gun?"

Enid's eyes went wide and Irmara felt a headache coming on. "It's not a gun. We do not use guns. You are a lady. You should never even discuss guns."

"Mumma uses a gun." She held her finger up and pointed. "She shoots us turkeys and deer and..."

Panicked, Irmara dropped to kneel in front of Violet. She grabbed her arms roughly and gave the girl a firm shake. "Look at me. You must never speak of that. Do you hear me?"

Violet's lip quivered. "But..."

"No buts! Violet, you absolutely must listen to me on this. Please, Violet. Please do not ever tell people your Mumma hunts."

"But there's no...nothing wrong w...with it..."

Irmara bit her lip and looked at Enid's shocked face. Irmara was raised in a tribal culture. She knew what it meant to hunt for survival. But she also knew the hell little Violet would face at the cruelness of others if she spoke of it. She knew how much the looks would hurt, how deep the wounds of the teasing would run. "Violet," she said firmly. "Listen to me. I know your Mumma is a good woman. I'm not saying any different." Enid made a little noise and Irmara snapped at the woman. "Take yourself to my office and wait for me there. Now."

When Enid left, Irmara relaxed her grip on Violet's arms and ran a hand over the little girl's head. Big tears were rolling down her cheeks and Irmara wished she could spare the girl the pain of the world. "There isn't anything wrong with it when there's no choice. Your Mumma was a brave woman to go out and do what she had to do to get your food. Your Da, as well. But now you live here, with us. And you cannot eat meat and you cannot speak of killing or hunting or guns. It will be our secret. You can pretend, can't you?"

Pretend. Mumma told her to. She could pretend. She bit on her lip and nodded her head.

Irmara sighed in relief. "Oh, child. What are we going to do with you?" A wild child, Bradwin had said. That was ridiculous. This child was no more wild than Irmara was when she grew up in her village. And that was exactly what Bradwin meant. He had never seen the hard work she went through on a daily basis to create the picture perfect wife he expected. He only saw the wild-haired girl he knocked up and was forced to marry by an uncaring father who couldn't wait to put her in yet another set of cruel hands to be someone else's problem.

Gripped by a rare impulse, Irmara suddenly planted a kiss on Violet's forehead. It had been years since she'd kissed anyone but lovers, had that type of affectionate contact with a family member. She didn't even remember ever kissing her other grandchildren, and the action stunned her.

Violet was a girl used to kisses and hugs, and it had been days since she got either. Without thought, Violet threw herself into her grandmother's arms and sobbed. Irmara awkwardly patted the girl's back, absolutely shocked by the outburst. Tears clogged her throat.

"There, there," she said, her movements becoming more sure as the child's sobs tore at her heart.

"I wanna go...home."

Irmara closed her eyes tightly, knowing exactly how Violet felt. "It's not so bad here," she lied, and pulled the girl tighter. "After all, your father grew up here, and he turned out just fine."

Violet cried harder. "I want my Da!"

Irmara felt the unfamiliar sensation of a tear roll down her cheek. The shocks just kept coming, didn't they? She was sure all those tears dried up years ago. "I want to see him, too," she whispered to the girl. "I have missed him so."

Violet's breath hitched and she looked up. "He'll come to...get me. I'll tell him...to see you."

Irmara felt the icy grip of fear clench back around her heart. No, he wouldn't. He couldn't! He must stay away. Violet's arms went back around her grandmother, and Irmara clutched her tightly. He wouldn't be so foolish to come back. He escaped! He made it out! She silently begged her son to stay gone as she rocked his daughter to sleep.

Irmara carried Violet to the new room they had prepared for her and placed a servant outside her door. "I must be alerted the moment she wakes, do you understand?" The maid said she did, then Irmara took a deep breath and sought out her husband.

Bradwin wasn't difficult to locate. He was loudly regaling Nada and Merle with his adventure into the Borderlands. "Badlands" was what he called them, but Irmara had long ago learned about the entirely different nation that was so very close to them in miles, and yet so very far apart in culture. She rolled her eyes at his recounting, knowing full well he was embellishing. Three bears? She scoffed.

Bradwin looked up at the sound and saw her in the doorway. "Well? Where is Violet?"

"Resting," Irmara said in her cultured, bored voice.

Nada turned to her husband, a horrified look on her face. "Resting, she says. I've been waiting to meet the girl for years now, and she's resting!"

Merle patted Nada's hand. "I'm sure she's been through a lot," he said, trying to placate his wife. He knew it was the wrong thing to say by the look of utter disgust on her face. Everything was the wrong thing to say. He dropped her hand and walked over to get a drink of wine, wishing that old Bradwin had something a bit stronger he could drink to take the edge off the afternoon.

"Imagine being raised in a place like that. With witches and bears and goodness knows what!" Nada fanned her face with her hand. "I feel a head ache."

"I wonder why," said Irmara, hating her daughter with a cold fury. Witches, indeed! No doubt that's what Nada thought of her, too, then. Nada sputtered and began to screech again, but Irmara had enough. She turned to Bradwin. "A word," she said, then walked out leaving no room for debate.

Bradwin glanced at Merle, envying his youthful stomach that wouldn't burn like fire when he drank wine. He would have loved a glass, but in his current state, that would bring an even more miserable night. He sighed and followed after Irmara. She waited in his private study, staring out the window, her icy shoulder to him as always. He shut the door behind himself. "Yes?"

"Enid must go," she said simply. If Bradwin cared to notice, he would have seen just how much it cost her to ask. She hated the idea of getting rid of her maid, and hated knowing that she would have to use Bradwin's style of leadership to make it happen.

Bradwin quirked and eyebrow. The mighty Ice Queen needed to come grovel for a favor, did she? "Indeed? And what did Enid do to incur your wrath?"

Irmara choked back the bile that rose when she looked in Bradwin's eyes. He knew. The bastard knew just how deeply she hated to ask him for the favor. He knew what a knife to the back it felt like and he stood there trying to twist it deeper as always. Dammit, if only there was any other way! But, there wasn't. She had enough years in her life to know that much. "She was in attendance for the girl's bath and heard her speak of hunting."

Bradwin saw the sweat bead on his wife's forehead and added a tally mark to his side of his mental score card. Her notches vastly exceeded his own, and every win in battle was cause for celebration. Perhaps he would have a glass of wine after all. He let her stew while he slowly made his way to the dusty decanter and poured himself a drink. The wine burned his stomach instantly, but there would be time for regrets later. "I see," he said, swirling the wine in his glass and drawing out the moment.

Irmara seethed with the bonfire of hate she'd spent thirty years stoking. She wanted to walk over and smack the smug look right off his wrinkled old face. She wondered idly how he would react. Perhaps it would be the shock that finally stopped that steely heart. It was a fleeting desire that she quickly tamped down. Let him smirk. She'd win next time. She stood straighter and stared him right in the eye, something she knew he hated. "Well?"

Bradwin saw the change in her demeanor and schooled the frown that wanted to crease his forehead. He hated it when she looked at him like that, like she knew every single thing about him and was sharpening her claws while she decided which way to slice. He swilled the rest of his wine and put the glass down on his desk with a resounding thunk. "She's been your maid for ten years now. I think she's proven her loyalty." He didn't care about a stupid maid. That wasn't the point.

Irmara folded her hands in front of her to keep them from twitching. "You should have seen the look on her face. She will not keep this to herself."

Bradwin let out a small, humorless laugh. "Always so quick to throw people away, aren't you, Irmara?" He rubbed the burn in his chest and dug some pills out of his pocket.

"What can I say, Bradwin?" her voice dripped with venom. "I learned from the best."

Bradwin's eyes went straight to hers and he was once again stunned by the cold fury he saw there. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He walked around his desk and sat down heavily. He tapped on his com dock and in a few seconds there was a sharp rap at the door before a man strode in.

"Sir?"

"We've had a situation with one of our maids." He looked to Irmara.
"Enid Pender," she supplied.

The man gave a curt nod. "Understood. Standard severance package?"

Bradwin thought for only a moment before shaking his head. Irmara was a lot of things, but she wasn't an alarmist. If she believed the woman would blab, then he would take her word on the matter. She didn't want public humiliation any more than he did. "There's a cargo tug of wheat heading out of Clough Pass. Board her and her family. Keep them secluded until then." Bradwin looked up to Irmara, as if asking for her approval. She gave a curt nod, and he turned back to his lackey. "Got that?"

"Yes, sir."

Irmara watched the man leave. "Across the desert?" she asked, her heart wrenching for her maid. They could not keep the maid around, but the woman had served with loyalty and faithfulness. Not for the first time in life, she wished things could be different.

"It's that or death," Bradwin snapped, rubbing his chest and wishing just once he could do the right thing in Irmara's eyes. "I'll call him back in here and order the second option if you disapprove..."

"Don't be silly," Irmara said in her cool tone. "I want her gone, not dead." She wondered for a split second if he actually would kill the woman on nothing more than her request.

Bradwin let out a humph. "Then, if that's all, I had a horrible meeting in Leonsburg and I need to debrief the Council, not to mention figure out how much the press knows and..."

"Of course," Irmara said, not wanting to stand there and listen to him prattle on about how difficult his cushy life was yet again. She turned and headed for the door, but paused with her hand on the knob. "Did you...did you see Tenet?" she asked, wishing her voice didn't sound so hopeful.

Bradwin was surprised it took her so long to ask about her precious Tenet. He considered lying. The burn in his gut added to his bad mood and he could make her squirm for awhile. But he wasn't joking when he said he had a long day ahead of him.

"No," he answered her after only a moment. "I did not." He watched her back stiffen before she flung the door open and strode out. He sighed heavily and popped another pill. He pressed the com link and called for a Council assembly, then settled in to get the next part of his plan started.

Chapter 8

Scarab woke with straw sticking in her back and Tenet snoring in her ear. It took her a few seconds to get her bearings. "Violet!" she hissed, bolting up.

Wren quirked an eyebrow from his spot across the fire where he tended the rabbit Takar had snared as it roasted for their dinner. "Easy, Mrs. Lorne," he said carefully.

Scarab blinked, then blinked again. "I...we need to get Violet." The fog of sleep hung around her and she struggled to get her mind working properly.

"The others are still asleep," Wren said. He placed the stick he was using to poke the fire around on the dirt floor next to him and reached over for Mrs. Lorne's clothes. He handed them to her. "These have dried."

Scarab glanced down and noticed she was naked, then swore as she yanked on the clothes. Wren was greatly amused, but kept his features schooled. He'd hunted with Mrs. Lorne enough to know that she did not wake up well from sleep. She got dressed then sat with a humph on the bale of hay beside Wren.

"I don't suppose any of you brought coffee," she muttered.

"I have tea," he said. He moved to his bag and brought out a sack of tea and a pot. After getting water from Tenet's flask, he put the pot on the fire to heat. They sat and waited for the tea while the other three men snored in the barn around them. The rabbit smelled delicious and Scarab's stomach rumbled.

"When was your last meal?" Wren asked casually. When Scarab only lifted a shoulder, Wren let it drop. If she wanted to speak of her ordeal, she would. The tea bubbled and Wren pulled the pot off the fire with the poker stick. He took a cup from Tenet's pack and with practiced ease, used the poker stick to tip the teapot just the right way to allow the hot liquid to fill the cup without spilling. Scarab nodded her thanks and barely blew on the hot elixir before she sucked it down. Her stomach threatened to rebel and she had to take a few deep breaths to keep from losing the tea.

"When you don't eat for days, your stomach forgets how," Wren said.

Scarab knew damn well she should have sipped the tea. It wasn't like this was her first run, and didn't need the likes of some stupid warrior telling her what to do like she was some... She stopped her grumbling thoughts and looked at Wren. She wasn't mad at him. He didn't deserve her anger, and she would not use him as a punching bag to vent her frustrations, even it was only in her head. "Thank you for coming for us."

Wren gave a small nod before he looked away. Though he considered Mrs. Lorne a friend, and a very worthy warrior, he was always uncomfortable when she assessed him so openly. "It is my sworn duty."

Tenet snorted and rolled, drawing Scarab's attention. She watched as his hand groped the straw around him before he bolted up in his own panic. The past days had taken their toll on him, as well, and Scarab felt her own failure again. "I'm here," she said to assure him she was safe.

Tenet blinked and rubbed his eyes, willing his heart to calm back down. She was there. She was safe. "What time is it?"

"It is evening," said Wren. "And almost dinner." He got up to wake the warriors from their nap while Scarab brought Tenet his shirt.

She refilled the cup with some tea for Tenet, then sat next to him while he woke. "You drugged me," she accused.

"Yes," he said, not even caring that she'd be pissed. "You needed rest."

"I know," she admitted.

Tenet slid his hand over hers on her knee and sipped his bitter tea. They watched the warriors wake and stretch and join them at the fire. Lendyl had a large straw sticking out of his hair, but he was trying so hard to be an accomplished warrior that Tenet didn't have the heart to risk embarrassing him.

Wren sectioned the roasted rabbit and passed it around, along with a sack of raisins. Overall it was a filling meal, and everyone sat, warm, dry, and sated in the glow of the fire.

Scarab cleared her throat. "I would like to offer my thanks for the rescue," she told the warriors. Wren nodded, Lendyl beamed with pride, and Takar rudely sucked meat from his teeth. Scarab turned to Lendyl. "And I thank you again for the use of your bow. It was an honor to slay my enemy with such a weapon."

While Lendyl all but preened under the praise, Takar snorted and shook his head. Wren frowned and reached behind Lendyl to cuff Takar on the back of his head. "Your rudeness is unforgivable," he told his younger brother.

Takar knew he was being rude to Mrs. Lorne and offered a hasty apology. Like Lendyl, he, too, had been uncomfortable with the way the kill went down, and he was expressing it in the wrong way.

Scarab watched him carefully. He apologized, but there was something more, something under the surface, some kind of question or resentment. "If you have something to say to me, Mr. McKay, then get it out in the open right now."

Takar nodded. "If you were an Ogden warrior, there would have been no pleasure in your kill."

"I am not an Ogden warrior," Scarab said in response.

Takar pointed at her. "Then you admit you enjoyed the kill."

Scarab shook her head. "I didn't enjoy it."

"You were smiling," said Lendyl, leaning forward in spite of Wren's fierce, warning glare.

Scarab turned to Tenet. "Was I?"

Tenet shrugged. In truth, in that moment, he only watched Jace, desperately wanting to see the man die. He took pleasure in the kill. It clawed at him, it ate him inside to admit, but he did. He'd replay that moment over and over in his mind, and no matter how sick it would make him feel, he'd enjoy the memory.

Scarab turned her attention back to Takar. "He was a very bad person, Mr. McKay, and now he's gone from the earth. I enjoy _that_. I take pride and pleasure in the fact that a piece of shit won't be able to hurt other people, and that it was my hand that made that happen. I wasn't blood thirsty. I was just relieved to finally dole out the justice he deserved."

Takar crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head. She made sense and he could see her point of view. The man should have died, of that there was no question and that wasn't his issue with it all. He'd accept her answer, and ask for clarity from the Mother. But there was still one large confusion, and he doubted there was any amount of meditation that would clear it up for him. He decided to push forward and ask his last question. "Would you have really shot his belly?"

"Yes."

Wren saw the look of horror that crossed Lendyl's face. Even Takar was taken aback. Wren looked to Tenet, but his friend wouldn't meet his gaze. Was it possible that Tenet would have let the man suffer, as well? Not Tenet. Surely not his gentle friend. Yet, Tenet was intentionally refusing to look them in the eye, as if he was hiding a shameful thought. All of the warriors squirmed until Wren cleared his throat. "But that did not happen," he assured his subordinates. "And now we shall offer evening meditations and sleep."

Scarab frowned. "We're staying the night?"

"It's pouring. Our horses need more rest. Our bodies need replenishment and our souls need commune." Wren stood and motioned his men toward the loft. "We will set out for Miss Violet in the morning."

Tenet shook his head. "I can't let you do that, Wren."

Wren spun around and quirked an eyebrow. "Do what?"

Tenet looked to Scarab to make sure she was on the same page. When she nodded her consent, he continued. "We'll have to go into Southland. I think...I think you should all head home."

Wren's fury was clear on his face. He stood to his full height and crossed his arms slowly over his chest. "I take orders from no one."

Tenet quickly stood, holding his hand up. "Now hold on, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just saying..." He had to put it carefully. "Look, what we're going to face down there...it's not like anything you've ever come up against."

Wren was more shocked than angry. "You think me afraid?"

"No!" Tenet said quickly. "That's not it at all. They've got bots. Electromagnets. Invisible fences and mechanical soldiers." When Tenet saw Wren's uncompromising stance, he turned to Scarab for help.

"He's right," Scarab said to Wren, backing Tenet up. "It would be suicide."

Wren tried hard to calm the bristly offense he felt inside. He knew what the Lornes were saying came from a good place, one of caring and concern and not from a desire to insult. He took a few calming breaths as he told himself that over and over. "I have sworn an oath to protect those in my septad."

Tenet felt a sinking feeling of dread. He'd already endangered enough lives. It would kill him if anything happened to anyone else. "Wren, think. Your arrows will do nothing against them."

"There is nothing I cannot kill."

"They're machines!"

Wren waved a hand of dismissal. "And who controls these machines? Men. Are these men so much bigger and better than an Ogden warrior?"

Tenet was on a slippery slope. If he lied and said yes, then Wren would carry the offense with him forever. If he told the truth, then Wren would not give up. "It's not a matter of that. You'd have to get through the machines, and..."

"Then we get through the machines."

"It's suicide," Scarab said quietly. "Tenet and I, we know what we're doing. We'll slip in and blend."

Wren thumped his chest. "And have I not proven I can be a deer when I hunt? Or a moose? Or a bear or wild cat?"

Scarab had to admit he had. His skill at mimicry was almost legendary. "It's more than that, Mr. McKay."

Wren had enough. While it was kind of them to consider his life, they still did not understand that he had no choice. "I am a warrior of Ogden. I live and breathe to keep the children of the Mother safe. This is my calling, my life, and my choice. I will return to Ogden with my septad, my whole septad, or not at all!"

"Same here!" echoed Lendyl. Takar joined them, and even though he didn't speak, his message was clear.

Tenet felt an odd mix of guilt and acceptance, and he turned to Scarab for guidance. Scarab knew the warriors would not yield, even if it meant their lives. She stood and placed her hand on Tenet's arm. "Then once again, you have our thanks."

The warriors nodded and turned without further talk. They filed silently up the ladder to the loft and Tenet heard them settle in for their meditating prayers. He turned to Scarab and sighed. "They should go home. What could I ever tell Mrs. McKay if something happened to Wren?"

"That he died honorably," she said simply.

Tenet turned to her in surprise. "How can you say that? You just backed me up!"

Scarab shrugged. "And I meant it. I don't want anything to happen to them, either." Scarab looked uncomfortably into the tea mug she held. "Aside from you and Violet, they're my only...family. They let me pretend to be one of them and..." She shook her head and jumped up, suddenly needing to move.

"Then let's go."

Scarab stopped her pacing and spun around. "Go?"

"Yes. Right now. Give them the slip like old times."

It was tempting. It was so very, very tempting. They could take the horses and beat it out of there and go get Violet.

With no weapons.

Or money.

And alienate every single friend they had in the process.

Scarab dropped to the hay bale. The look on Tenet's face said he, too, knew it wasn't possible. Scarab scooted closer and they sat together staring into the fire.

"I wish..." Tenet began, then faltered. He wished so many things had gone differently that if he began to make that list, he'd never stop. The guilt and anger and fear were threatening to overwhelm him again.

"Me, too." There were a million things Scarab could have done, and as she sat staring into the fire, she couldn't stop that old familiar voice of condescension from berating her for each and every way she screwed up. She should have paid better attention. She should have listened to Violet. She should have been a more conscientious mother and listened to Tenet instead of telling him he was babying her. Babying her? She _was_ a baby! The self-hatred clutched inside and Scarab wasn't sure if she would keep her dinner down.

Tenet let out a shaky breath, then slid his hand into Scarab's. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. What could he say? That they were shitty parents? That they both failed? That there were a billion things they should have done differently? He tightened his hold on her hand and she responded in kind, as if he were the lifeline keeping her sane. He almost laughed at that thought, and then almost cried. In the end, they sat and stared at the fire, both lost in their shared anguish until they knew they had to at least try to sleep through the night.

The night was spent in a hell of torturous self-reproach for the Lornes. Wren could see the guilt and pain in their faces when he rose. They were already awake and Tenet sat looking much like a lost child himself while Scarab rekindled the fire. Wren frowned. This was no good. They needed to be alert, aware, sharp. He tried a few times through the morning to get them talking, but neither would be shaken from their stupors. In the end, he decided just to ride hard and let them meditate privately. Perhaps the Mother would take pity on them and ease their pain, even though they were not technically Celtists.

They all rode uncomfortably through morning. The rain had eased from a driving downpour to an almost worse annoying mist that clung like icy cobwebs to their faces as they pushed on. It was as if the Mother gave them the weather to match the Lornes' moods, and Wren spent most of the time pleading for a reprieve from both.

Late into the afternoon, Takar whistled to Wren. Wren pulled in his reins and turned around. The two warriors had a brief conversation with their warrior sign language before Wren ordered everyone to dismount.

"What's happening?" Tenet asked Scarab in the low voice Wren taught him to use.

"Riders. Coming up on our flank."

Tenet followed her eyes but could see nothing.

"Get the horses in that thick grove and tether them," Wren ordered Lendyl, then crouched behind the trees with Takar.

Scarab followed suit and Tenet copied her motions, taking up a position behind a bush and squinting through the thin forest. He couldn't see anything.

"How far out?" Scarab asked Takar. When Takar answered with hand signals, Tenet realized Scarab's speech was for his benefit. "Three miles, maybe four," she told him, interpreting the warrior sign language. She then communicated with her hands, and Tenet shook his head. After almost six years together, his wife never ceased to surprise him. He waited quietly, knowing she would fill him in. "They've been following all morning. There are several riders on horseback."

"More warriors?"

Scarab shook her head. "Not Celtist."

"How can he tell?"

"The way they move."

Tenet frowned. "You think my father hired locals?"

Scarab wanted to say that no self-respecting Borderlander would help the likes of a Southlander with something like that, but she knew there were plenty of Borderlanders with no self respect who certainly would. She shook her head and shrugged, then glanced up the tree above them.

Tenet didn't have to know warrior sign language to figure out her hand gestures to Wren. "No," he said, knowing she was heading up the tree no matter what he said. "You're not going up there." Scarab was already starting to scale the branches when Tenet hissed again. "We don't have the right supplies to patch you up if you fall!"

"Then I won't fall," she said, knowing he would be stewing the whole time she was up the tree.

"You're a lot older than you were last time you did this, you know!"

Scarab couldn't help but chuckle at that. "I did it last time I hunted with Wren. Now zip it before they hear you."

Tenet turned angry eyes at Wren who suddenly had somewhere else to look. He shook his head and crouched back down, hoping his wife wouldn't slip. He hated it when she climbed trees.

Scarab shimmied up the pine tree with ease. It was young and the sap running in the cool spring air gave her plenty of grip on the bark. She reached high enough to get a good look around. The forest they were in was thin, with frequent grassy glens and many areas of scrub brush instead of trees. She searched the rear horizon, and after a few intense moments she caught sight of movement. She looked down and signaled to Wren that she had a visual, then turned back to watch.

The movement was much closer than three miles. Whoever followed them was gaining ground at an alarming rate. Scarab was torn for a second, considering whether to run now or to stay and get an idea of their enemy's identity. She determined that it was most important to know who was after them, and motioned for Wren to get the horses ready for a fast flight if necessary.

The movement through the forest seemed to indicate a party of several people, just as Takar had said. They moved quickly and Scarab's eyes scanned ahead of their location, settling on a field she believed they'd have to cross. She watched as the trees closer to the field moved and swayed, and held her breath waiting for whoever was coming to cross into the open field. When the first person broke through the undergrowth, she blinked and squinted, then blinked again. More men followed and she shook her head, not believing what she was seeing. The waving flag the last man carried was the proof she needed and she gave a little whoop before hurrying down the tree.

"What's going on?" asked Tenet, holding his hands out in case he had to catch her.

"The calvary's here!" She thumped Tenet on the chest. "Come on!"

The warriors were just as confused as Tenet and they all hurried to catch up to Scarab as she ran through the forest. They broke from the trees into a glen and Scarab stood watching the far side, waiting. Tenet pulled in ragged breaths and stared where she was looking. "Who is it?"

Just at that moment, Fratz burst into the glen on an enormous horse, a small troop of soldiers hot on his heels. Tenet whooped and waved his hands and the warriors drew their bows. Fratz waved and grinned when he saw them, then pulled and held his hand high to call his men to a halt. The Celtist warriors stood in an attack stance, and Fratz knew if his men took one more step, all hell would break loose.

"Hold 'em up," he called to his men. "Call off the guard, if'na want us to get a step closer," he shouted across the field.

"Stand down," Scarab said firmly to Wren as she stepped forward to greet their old friend.

Wren's bowstring was taught, the arrow ready to fly. He knew the man who lead the troops. He was the one the army sent to check on the Lornes every year. But that didn't mean he trusted him. He wore a uniform. He worked for the same government that wanted to take Celtist land and resources. And he found it very suspicious that the man found them so easily. "I do not trust this one," he said quietly to Tenet.

"He's a friend," Tenet insisted.

"Are you certain? You may be risking your life on your answer."

Tenet knew the tensions that existed between the Celtists and the military forces of the Borderlands. He knew Fratz wouldn't trust Wren any more than the warrior trusted the soldier. And he had to admit, that from Wren's perspective, he had a good point. But he knew Fratz. He trusted Fratz. And that would just have to be enough for Wren. "Yes, I'm certain."

Wren clenched his jaw but lowered his bow. Takar followed suit, but young Lendyl needed a stern look before he'd put his weapon down. He watched the Lornes cross the field and saw Tenet embrace the enormous soldier who had dismounted.

"You be much better this time at runnin'," Fratz said, thumping his friend hard on the back.

"I have a better reason," Tenet said, his throat clogging with emotion.

Fratz nodded. "I reached Last Inn with Phyllis and we got us emergency orders to double time it to Ogden." Scarab frowned, and Fratz laughed. "Krupkie, she always know what's what. I be tellin' you that for years."

"How did Krupkie know?" Tenet asked with a frown.

"The old..." Fratz was about to say "witch", but caught himself in time. The three Celtist warriors had dropped their weapons, but they had advanced in formation to close the distance between the forest and the troops. Dealing with them was going to be trial of diplomacy, but Fratz was up to the challenge. "The priestess, she be callin' down to Krupkie to move mountains right quick." Fratz's horse snorted and tossed its head. He thumped the war beast on the neck to offer comfort. "We be chasin' since."

"Don't tell me you left Phyllis in Last Inn," Tenet said with a smirk, thinking about the aptly named run down hotel on the edge of the Midland mountain range, the last real bit of civilization for a good fifty miles until the hill villages.

Fratz gave a broad smile and a helpless little shrug. "She did'na wanna be ridin', so she be stayin'."

"She'll take care of herself just fine," Scarab said, looking over the other troops. "You _have_ been riding hard," she said, noticing that all the horses were panting and covered in a sheen of sweat.

Fratz was scanning the group in front of him for one little, dark haired girl who held his heart. Though he already figured she was still missing when he found the dead hunter and tracks leading south, he had held out a small hope. It was not so. Little Violet was still in danger. "Shoulda run harder," Fratz said, turning his guilty eyes to Tenet. "I shoulda been up ta ya faster. If'na got there in time..."

"No," said Tenet firmly. "Don't do that. You got here at all, and that's what matters."

"Are we breaking for a meal then?" Wren asked.

Scarab heard the edge in the warrior's voice and hoped there wouldn't be trouble between the two groups. The soldiers eyed the warriors with fear, the warriors shot back glares of hatred. She hoped it wouldn't build and come to blows, but she realized that was a distinct possibility. She would pull Tenet aside and see if he could smooth things over with both groups. He was far better with people than she was and if anyone could get them to play nice, it was Tenet.

"We break for a meal and a rest," Tenet said to Wren. "It will give us a chance to catch the troops up on the plan."

Wren did not like the situation. However, he was pragmatic. The soldiers were heavily armed and even pulled extra horses behind them. Their supplies and weapons would be invaluable. It was a wise strategic move to allow them to join, and all in the party would benefit. It would be very difficult to get his warriors to see it that way, though. He sighed, wondering if he could do enough to rein in Takar's bitterness and young Lendyl's exuberance. Without a word, he turned his back, showing his men that he trusted the troops enough to be vulnerable. Takar held his ground for a moment before turning and following back to their own horses, but Lendyl walked backwards until they were in the protection of the forest.

"This goin' ta be a problem," Fratz said quietly.

"It best not be," Scarab warned him fiercely. "You keep your men in line and we'll worry about ours." She turned and strode after the warriors.

"Still spittin' fire," Fratz said to Tenet as he watched Scarab leave the field.

Tenet flashed a smile. "Wouldn't want her any other way."

Fratz thumped a large hand on Tenet's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I'll be cuttin' mama bear a little slack. Don't worry 'bout my men. I'll be threatenin' the very lightning itself on their asses if'na be bringin' troubles. I ain't stoppin' till we get that cub back."

Tenet couldn't say thank you. It simply wasn't enough. He nodded as he choked up. "We've, uh, stopped up ahead. Let's go."

A small stream was quickly located using one of the army's maps, and the horses all got a good watering while Fratz directed his men to set up a quick camp and cook up rations. Tenet knew Fratz was a soldier. He even knew that the man had received a promotion a few years back to Captain. He knew Fratz had a troop of men that relied on him, that he lead. He knew all these things in an abstract way, yet, he'd never seen it for himself. Fratz was large and jovial and loved to laugh and have a good time. Though he questioned Tenet yearly, and did so in a very professional manner, the business part of their relationship took so little time that it was easy to forget about in the rest of the two week long visits every spring. Tenet watched Fratz bark orders at his men, and he was blown away. His laughing, joking friend transformed into a hard-as-nails soldier and not a single one of his men dared do anything but jump at his every command.

"I never pegged you for the leadership type," Tenet commented when he was sure Fratz's men couldn't hear him.

Fratz grinned at his friend. "That be the result of Phyllis hen peckin' me in front of ya. If'na seen me more on a field of battle, ya wouldn't have surprises." Fratz looked over Tenet's shoulder. "You be droppin' them rations again, it be the scrub duty for ya, Henrik!"

"Yes, sir," came the quick reply from the young soldier.

Fratz shook his head. "Green as can be. Feisty lot, though, I promise ya."

They did seem young, but Fratz's assessment about their eagerness was spot on. They got a quick camp put together and in no time, everyone was eating. Everyone but the warriors. They refused the army food, choosing to chew on their own supply of dried meat instead. After they ate, Fratz introduced the troops.

"Stenan, Octavio, Kanto, Henrik, and Olaf, all privates."

Tenet nodded to them, then introduced the Celtist warriors. "Wren, Takar, and Lendyl."

Fratz nodded in return. "I know they all be itchin' ta be friends," he said, casting a warning glare at his soldiers.

"You'll get no troubles from this side," Wren insisted, giving the same look to his men.

"Now that we're done with touchy-feely time," Scarab said sarcastically, "let's get down to business. I don't believe for a minute that Major Krupkie gave any troops under her command permission to cross the border."

Fratz gave her a wry smile. "She did'na. She gave orders ta be draggin' you back ta base."

"We're not going that way."

Fratz eyed Scarab and decided he much preferred the woman he had gotten to know over the years to the cold hunter she used to be that sat before him now. He didn't fault her, but he knew it would be one hell of a bad trip trying to get her to see reason. "If'na army say you be goin' that way..."

"The army can piss off." Scarab dropped her plate and stood. "Come on," she told the warriors. They all jumped up with her.

"Hold on, now," Tenet said, jumping up.

"We are not going to Krupkie's base," Scarab said firmly.

"I'm not saying we are, but let's hear Fratz out."

Scarab's eyes flashed with anger and the muscle in her jaw twitched. Tenet knew she was close to blowing, but Fratz didn't come all the way for nothing. After a tense second she nodded her head. "I'm listening."

"Krupkie got the call from Ogden. She scrambled her men an' the board, they decide it be the kick in the ass they been waitin' for ta call up'na war."

Tenet frowned. "A war on who?"

"Southland."

Tenet turned to Scarab, but she looked just as confused as he was. He turned back to Fratz. "A war? I don't understand."

"Them tensions, they can only build for so long. It be comin' for ages, an' Krupkie an' the board, they see the time to fight."

It didn't make any sense. The Borderlands had no reason to want to go to war with Southland. "Because of my daughter?"

Fratz shook his head. "Not in the whole, but on paper, ya. Yer old pop there, he be dealin' up'na here for years. Every time we think we got'na good an' shut down, he finds himself another way in. We say, 'Just leave us be.' And he say, 'I want money.'" Fratz spread his hands wide. "So Krupkie, she had just about enough, and she holds this big meeting with some big muck mucks in the gover's offices down in Leonsburg."

"That must be what Jace meant," Scarab said.

Tenet felt his heart plummet. "So the meeting already happened?" His daughter wouldn't be there. It was a very long shot anyway, one he never put much hope in, but hearing Fratz's confirmation was still like a blow. For a fleeting moment, Scarab let her hand rest on his shoulder. Just one tiny comfort before she pulled away, but it was enough to keep him on track.

"Stenan," Fratz said to one of his men. "Gimme the com from Krupkie we got yesterday."

"Yes, sir." The young soldier dashed to his horse and removed a hand held com dock. He brought it over to Fratz and loaded the communication.

"Got this last night," Fratz explained. He handed over the device and Scarab read Krupkie's summation over Tenet's shoulder.

Leonsburg was a diversion. It has been determined that war is no longer avoidable. All borders will be closed. Retrieve the Lornes and bring them to Carlton STAT.

"No," Scarab said again.

Tenet handed the com back to Fratz, trying to wrap his head around it. "How can there be a war? People down there don't even know we exist!"

Fratz shook his head. "Then it be a quick war, eh?"

Scarab crouched down to get Tenet's attention. "Screw the war. We are going to keep riding in that direction," she pointed southeast, "until we reach our daughter."

"The borders, they be closed, manned with them big guns, missy."

Scarab turned to Fratz. "That won't stop me."

He didn't think it would. If anyone could run through a militarized zone, he fully believed it could be Scarab. But, he didn't want her to try. "I got me my orders ta bring ya ta Carlton, and that's what I gotta do."

Wren stood and reached for his bow. "You have no authority over the citizens of Ogden, soldier, and it is my duty to see my people safely on this mission." The other warriors stood and drew their bows, and within seconds Fratz's young troops jumped up and drew their guns.

"Are you threatening me, barbarian?" asked one of the soldiers.

"Private Octavio!" Fratz shouted jumping up. "That be enough!"

Tenet stood and turned to Wren. "Hey, let's calm down."

"He's right," Scarab said, nodding to Wren.

Tenet turned to Scarab with his eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

Scarab moved to stand with the warriors. "You heard me. He's right. We're citizens of a septad. We don't fall under governmental rule."

Fratz spun around. "Listen here, desert bug. You live in Borderlands, ya? Then you be followin' the same rules I be followin'."

Wren's eyes burned with open hatred. "So I see once again your armed soldiers are ignoring a treaty..."

"We have every authority under article..."

"I said silence, Private!" Fratz bellowed at Octavio. Stenan raised his weapon, and Fratz could hear the creak of one of the warrior bows drawing tighter. He turned to Tenet. "Please, brother."

Tenet put his hands up. "Everyone, just calm down. Let's just talk this out."

Scarab scoffed. "Don't tell me you're thinking of going with them?"

Tenet felt a stab of pain at her tone of voice. "No!"

"You best rethink," muttered one of the soldiers.

"I mean," Tenet hurried to say, "that we at least need to hear him out and then weigh our options."

Scarab could not believe what she was hearing. "There is only one option," she said coldly. "One I thought you cared very much about. Maybe you're just like..." she bit her words off. They were said in anger and frustration and fear, and she honestly didn't mean them. They just slipped out before she could stop them.

Tenet dropped his hands, absolutely stunned by his wife's words. She didn't have to finish the thought to know what she meant. She meant he was like his father. "Is that what you really think?"

"You shouldn't have stopped for me," she blurted out. "You should have kept going for her."

Tenet shook his head. "And what would that do, huh? I can't run down a plane."

Fratz glared at his men until they dropped their weapons. He then turned to Scarab. "Missy, listen. Ain't no better a Da than Tenet and you're jus' all worked up. Don't be fightin' and tearin' yourselves ta pieces."

Scarab ignored the big man, her gaze never shifting from Tenet's. "You didn't even try."

Wren lowered his bow, feeling very bad for his friend. He had been with him, seen how driven he was, how hard he pushed himself to reach them in time. He had no doubt that Tenet spent the last two days tearing himself up inside over being too late to save them both. However, he also knew that Scarab was probably doing just as bad a number on herself. He would in her shoes. He nudged Takar and Lendyl and they let their bows point to the ground as well.

Tenet knew his wife. He knew how guilty she felt. He knew she was torturing herself because she felt so weak and powerless while he daughter was taken. He knew these things logically. But knowing them did not make the icy ache inside go away. "I didn't try? You really think I didn't try?"

Scarab squeezed her fist tight. She couldn't do this. She couldn't keep pushing and pushing like she used to and feel so much. It used to be so easy for her to shut off, to keep everything locked down. If she had stayed in that mode, Violet would be with them. If she had been able to remain the bounty hunter she used to be, then they wouldn't be in this situation. She let herself get soft over the years, and the self loathing she felt was nearly all-consuming over the last few days. She was useless and helpless and she hated herself for it.

Tenet watched the war in her eyes and sighed heavily, trying to tamp down his pain. He took another deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. "When I discovered..." he choked up and had to swallow before starting again. "Violet told me she had met her grandfather. I should have listened to her, given her the chance to explain that she wasn't talking about Mordin. Instead, I went on one of my lectures and...as as result, she was taken. You were taken. It was the worst moment of my life, realizing what I had done." He refused to look away from Scarab's eyes. "I don't think a person can hate themselves any more than I do."

"Tenet," Scarab began.

"I didn't listen, and now my daughter is gone. I accept the similarities between my father and I."

"No," Fratz said firmly. "Don't be..."

"But," Tenet continued as if Fratz never spoke. "I am going to do everything in my power to get her back. Not because I hate her, not because she knows too much, but because I love her and will die without her. That's how I'm different from my father. I will get her back because I love her, just like I got you back because I love you!"

Before Scarab could respond, Tenet rushed on. "And then I am going to make sure my father will never be a problem again. If we need the help of the army to do this, then that is the path we will take. I am going to sit down and listen to Fratz, and then, yes, I will weigh our options. I'm not just going to run off without listening again because I've learned just how much worse that can be in the end."

By the time he was finished, Tenet was almost yelling, and Scarab had no idea what to say. She should apologize. She was sorry even before the words were out. She wasn't angry at him. It was her fault, not his. She should have seen to Bradwin's demise a long time ago. She shouldn't have let herself get soft and weak. She should have listened to Tenet when he wanted to keep walking Violet to school and back instead of letting her go with her friends. The list of "should haves" on her part was so much longer than Tenet's that it was ridiculous for him to take the blame.

But what could she say? "Sorry" had always choked in her throat. She could count the number of times she actually said the words out loud on one hand. She always apologized through actions. It was so much easier for her to do than it was for her to say. She had years and years of being alone, and while the six years with Tenet had opened her up in many ways, talking through feelings would never come easily, especially in front of other people. She just couldn't get past that wall. Instead of answering, she stepped forward and sat back down at the fire, hoping Tenet would be able to know what that meant.

Tenet stared at Scarab's back for a minute, before turning and dropping back in his seat. He looked at Fratz. "What is Krupkie offering?"

Scarab watched Fratz look between the two before he joined them. He explained his orders again, then took careful pains to detail all of the bonuses the army had to offer. "Weapons, men, tanks and planes and guns. You got yourselves a fine passel of warriors," he said, nodding to the Celtists who still stood guard behind the Lornes. "But one of them arrows won't do no good if'na run up against guns."

"We are excellent marksmen," Wren said defensively.

"And what you be markin' with?" Fratz asked, raising his eyebrow. He knew that Celtist warriors were a fierce lot, but they were very poorly equipped for the type of battle they'd find across the border. "I'm not puttin' ya down, but I don't see no gats up'na saddles of yours."

It was a damn good point, and one Scarab could not ignore. "We will buy weapons," she said.

"With them pretty brown eyes? Might get ya a handful of ammo, but..." Fratz spread his hands, letting the rest of the statement hang in the air.

"I have some tech that might be valuable."

"And where ya gonna sell it, missy? If'na ain't with me, you ain't gonna cross no border."

Scarab's jaw muscle twitched and she looked to Tenet for help. He refused to look her way. She couldn't blame him, but felt let down all the same. "Then take us. You said you were our friend."

Fratz frowned. "Oh no ya don't, ya sneaky little desert bug. Don't be twistin' it. I am the best friend you got right now if'na want a real chance at gettin' yer little flower back!"

"We're going with them," Tenet said quietly.

Scarab scoffed. "Just like that? We need to discuss this." Scarab asked with a frown.

Tenet turned to look at her. "We just did."

Scarab snorted. "You're always so quick to trust the army."

"Yep." He pointed his finger at her, completely fed up. "And you've already decided it's the only way we can really help Violet. You've already made up your mind, too, and the only reason you're still going on and on with the questions is because you don't _want_ that to be the only way. Well tough shit, Scarab. We've had to put our lives in their hands before, and we have to now. You don't trust them, even after all these year, that's fine. I actually like that about you, that you stick to your guns. But I had hoped that you would have learned to trust me." He stood and started kicking dirt on the fire. "Pack up. We're rolling out."

Every other man around the fire was speechless. Those who knew Scarab honestly wondered if Tenet just signed a death warrant. Even the new soldiers who didn't know her personally had learned enough to realize Tenet might have just made a huge mistake with his wife. They all watched Tenet as he started packing up, and watched Scarab as she numbly stared after him, clearly trying to decide what to do.

"And us?" Wren asked tentatively.

Tenet made a motion around his head. "All of us. You swore to get my daughter back, let's do it."

"We can't ride with barbarians," Olaf hissed.

"You will ride with whoever I damn well say, Private!" Fratz said, deciding he liked this new bossy side of Tenet. He turned and looked at his soldiers. "What you be waitin' on? Get packed! Move out!"

Tenet was right. He was one hundred percent correct, as much as it galled Scarab. When had he taken the reins? She should be the one barking orders. She should be the one making decisions. She always had in the past and she suddenly felt at a loss. She numbly rose and helped pack up the dishes from the meal. In just a few minutes, the whole party was ready to mount and ride out. Fratz counted the horses on the Celtist side and called for a horse to be saddled for Scarab.

"I have a ride," she said curtly to Fratz and strode over to Tenet's horse. Without anything else said, she mounted and simply waited for him to get in position behind her.

Tenet stared up at his wife with a mix of anger, annoyance, and love. He wanted to have his own horse so he could distance himself and have a good long time alone to stew. And yet, part of him was afraid that she would take Fratz up on his offer and he'd be alone with his own thoughts. He hesitated only a moment before hooking his foot in the stirrup and taking his position in the saddle behind Scarab.

Scarab felt a flood of relief pour through her. "I always trust you," she said quietly.

Tenet reached around and grabbed the reins. "Yeah. Sure," he said. He knew that was her way of apologizing, but it wasn't enough. Not this time. Her words echoed his own self-reproach and hit far too close to home. He would let her ride with him, because he did love her and he did need her with him. And he would forgive her as he always did. He would forgive and forget and move on. But he just couldn't shake it off when he was already feeling so miserable. Not yet.

Still, no matter how firm Tenet sounded when he made up his mind to go with Fratz to Carlton, changing course to ride away from his daughter ripped at him inside. Within a mile, Tenet needed to share the pain and fear with Scarab. He let his hand rest on her leg and moved forward, just enough to feel her solid heat, just enough to let them both be soothed by the familiar contact. Scarab leaned back into him slightly, thankful for the silent support. Everything in her screamed to turn around and keep going straight for their daughter, even though she knew they needed help. They had to go with Fratz because that was the best option. But that didn't make it any easier, and she actually felt comforted by the knowledge that Tenet was torn up about it, too.

"Be thinking of a plan B if Krupkie is a bust," Tenet said tightly.

"I already am," Scarab assured him.

Tenet's hand held her leg more firmly and Scarab knew in that moment that they would be all right. Fratz called for the pace to increase as soon as they turned on the field, and there was no time for talking. They rode hard through the day, silently hoping that they made the right call.

Chapter 9

Violet stood in another big, cold room and shivered. The dress her grandmother made her wear when she woke from her nap was not nearly as warm as her leathers, and when she asked for them back her grandmother's face got that white look again and she knew she would never see the beautiful suit again. The shoes she wore made loud clicking noises when she walked on the slippery floor, and though she liked the noise, they pinched her toes in together and made her feel like she was going to wobble and fall. She looked around at all the fancy things and saw another shiny vase that she wanted to touch, but her grandmother caught her looking and shook her head.

"You must wait with the decorum expected of a young lady," her grandmother said as she stood next to her.

"What's a decorum?"

"Decorum is aplomb. Poise. Grace." At the child's blank look, Irmara mentally added it to the growing list of things she'd have to teach her. By five years old, a child should know to stand still and not keep craning her head around to plan her next misadventure. Still, Irmara's lips twitched in a smile before she could school her features. She remembered Tenet being as curious as Violet.

Violet sighed and itched to go jump on the fluffy looking chair against the wall behind them. "Can I go sit?"

"May I," corrected Irmara. "And no. You are being presented to your aunt and uncle and your cousins and you will meet them standing tall and proud." The child looked unmoved. "Like your father would expect," Irmara threw in there. Though Violet's lip quivered for a second, the words did their job and she stood straighter and stopped fidgeting.

Irmara glanced at the large clock over the doorway of their receiving parlor and wondered what was taking Nada so long. She was about to ring for the butler when she heard Nada's nasally voice issuing orders to her children down the hall. Here we go, she thought to herself. She took a bracing breath and held her granddaughter's hand more firmly. "Remember, speak only after you are spoken to," Irmara reminded Violet as her daughter's family rounded the corner and entered the room.

Nada took two steps into the parlor and stopped so suddenly that Merle walked right into her back.

"Pardon," he said formally.

Nada didn't even notice. Her eyes were riveted on the girl whose hand her mother held. Her mother never held a child's hand, not even hers when she was small and injured and in need of comfort. She felt a pang of jealousy rip through her before she determined to ignore the slight. The girl herself was utterly fascinating. Her skin was dark, as if Tenet actually let her run free in the sun like a barbarian. Her hair was almost black and very shiny. Again, there was an unreasonable jealousy. Her own hair had always been a lackluster brown that hung in dull waves when it wasn't shelled, and she spent her life envying beautiful hair. But it was the girl's eyes Nada found both arresting and discomforting. It was as if they were assessing her, as if the child felt she had every right in the world to cast judgment on an adult. They were insolent, impudent, and all together offensive, and Nada sniffed and turned her gaze to her mother, glad that her own children were not so brazen and rude.

"Mother," she said.

Irmara had not missed the jealous looks Nada cast at Violet. How could she? Her daughter had never learned how to hold her emotions inside like a proper lady. Irmara felt the familiar bubble of disgust rise inside. "Violet, I present to you your aunt, Nada." Irmara held back her smirk at Nada's look of outrage. Violet should have been presented to Nada, not the other way around. Merle didn't do a thing to hide his own smirk behind Nada's back and Irmara felt another little glimmer inside. She greatly preferred Merle's company to just about anyone else's in her life these days. "Merle, I present to you my granddaughter and your niece, Violet Bradwin."

Violet squinched up her nose. "My name is Violet Lorne," she said to her grandmother.

Nada let out a little squeak of indignation, but Merle placed his hand on her elbow in a rare warning. "I am pleased to make you acquaintance, I'm sure, Violet," he said smoothly. "As you can see, your aunt is overcome with emotion." He squeezed Nada's elbow mercilessly until she got the message.

"Indeed," Nada said quickly, trying to save face. "I, um...I'm pleased to meet you, dear." It took all she had to show any grace towards Tenet's heathen.

Irmara's eyes sparkled, and only those who really knew her would have been able to tell that she was feeling genuine amusement at her daughter's discomfort. "And these children are your cousins, Violet."

Merle pushed his children forward at Irmara's nod. "Yes," he said, making the introductions his wife should have made. "I present to you your cousin Auger and your cousin Anka. They are not that much younger than you."

Irmara nodded. "They will make good friends. You can learn a lot from your cousins, Violet."

Nada's eyes went wide. "Mother! We discussed this."

"It won't hurt them any," Merle said, making his children walk forward to meet their cousin.

Violet bit her lip and looked at the two children in front of her. They were pale and looked tired. "Are you sick?" she asked Auger. He shook his head, and Nada snapped at her.

"They are perfectly healthy! Honestly, what a thing to ask." Nada shook her head in disapproval and looked to her husband. He was ignoring her completely, and her frown deepened. "Do you not find it rude to ask such a question, Merle?"

"Yes, Nada," he said automatically, even though he could not muster the outrage she seemed to always find in any situation. It was rude, and he would have chastised his own children. However, Violet was not raised with them. He was surprised she could stand still in a dress for all Bradwin had told him. "I believe our children may end up being a good influence on her."

Violet frowned. They were talking about her like she wasn't even there. She looked up at her grandmother, but the woman obviously wasn't going to defend her. "We had a girl in the village that was sick and had skin the color of snow like them, that's why I was just askin'."

Nada visibly cringed at Violet's rough accent. She shot her mother a look and was gratified to that Irmara was cringing as well.

"It is not polite to ask if one is ill," Irmara said to Violet, hating that Nada almost preened in her self satisfaction. "Now you must apologize."

"But Da always asks people if they're sick," Violet protested.

Nada snickered. "Da? Oh, Merle, did you hear that? Da, as if he's a farm hand!"

Violet looked at the woman who was supposed to be her aunt. She didn't like her one bit. "How are you s'posed to help if you don't know who's sick?" It was a very good point and she crossed her arms over her chest like Mumma did when she was arguing because that seemed to make people listen.

"Enough of this," Irmara said to the group before Violet said anything else to prove Nada's points. The very last thing her daughter needed was a bigger ego. "The child has a lot to learn, on that we can all agree. You cannot expect her to be able to change cultures in the span of one afternoon. It's a process." She looked to Merle for a little help.

"Yes," Merle said, picking up Irmara's silent plea. "And certainly now you can see the value in allowing Auger and Anka to spend time in Violet's education."

Nada spun to face her husband. "We have discussed this. I will not subject my children..."

But Merle knew his wife well and cut down her argument before it was made. "Think of how impressed your friends will be to discover that your mothering has made it possible for your children to help reform a heathen." He saw the calculations in his wife's eyes and knew that he'd won her over. Irmara gave him a look that said she was impressed, and he was slightly offended. Of course he knew which buttons to push. It wasn't as if his wife was either clever or difficult to read.

"Yes," Nada said slowly, the wheels of her brain churning. "I noticed the Phillips' looking over Auger at the garden stroll last weekend." She tapped the end of the folding fan she always carried against her teeth, an annoying habit she did whenever she was deep in thought, one that grated on Merle's last nerve. He looked to Irmara.

"Perhaps we shall sit and receive afternoon tea in the gazebo while the children become better acquainted?" Irmara suggested.

Nada waved a hand, still lost in thought. She was bound and determined to get Auger noticed by the nation's best families, and Merle's plan did make some sense. She followed her mother outside and down the cobblestone walk that lead to the large, white gazebo, and sat on the edge of the bench. "Do you suppose we should introduce the girl to society before she is tamed?"

Irmara had been ordering her butler to bring them their tea and cakes when Nada's words stopped her. She lifted a carefully shaped brow and shot her daughter her coldest look. "I would use caution with my wording if I were you," she warned. Tamed indeed!

Nada suddenly remembered that her mother was from a tribal life. She always forgot, mostly because she desperately did not want it to be true. But randomly throughout her life she had little reminders, and each time the knowledge always felt like a fresh blow. Suddenly warm and very uncomfortable, Nada flicked open her fan and began to furiously wave it in front of her face. "I simply meant that for Auger's sake, perhaps if we allow people to know what he's starting out with..." she waved the fan around and let her words trail off.

Irmara turned and finished giving instructions to the butler to allow herself the chance to cool down.

Nada knew she pissed her mother off. Good. Let the woman fume! It had been a very trying day so far, and Nada believed she was holding up nicely under the circumstances. It wasn't her fault Irmara was a tribal heathen. She sniffed loudly and turned to her husband. "For heaven's sake, Merle. You know I'm correct. If the Phillips are looking, then now is the time to begin Auger's championship. Why, you had already caught my father's eye by three, and Auger's closing in on five."

Merle called to the butler to bring a cask of wine as the elderly man was leaving the gazebo. "Yes, I remember," he said with a caustic bite in his tone. He would never lie and say she was his choice for a mate. But she was rich beyond words, her father was easy enough to get along with as long as he nodded whenever the old man spoke, and then, of course, there was Irmara. The Phillips were very well off, being in wheat and barley, and if his son could be matched with either of their daughters, it would mean a secure future for the boy. Auger was no prize winner on his own. He would need to do something grand to turn favor his way, and Merle had to admit, if the boy's influence on Violet could be documented favorably by society, it could go a long way to impressing the right people. He watched his son pick his nose for a moment and sighed heavily. His wife had a point, as bitter as that was for him to admit, and he didn't argue with her as he turned to wait for his wine.

Irmara watched Merle look longingly after the butler and she knew he was wishing they'd already brought out a cask of wine with them. She'd have to speak to him about the drinking. If there was one thing she would not tolerate under her roof, it was a drunk.

"Violet is not ready to be introduced into society," Irmara said. She knew Nada's reasonings and agreed with them from Nada's standpoint. By all rights, she herself should care enough about Auger to see him well matched, if for nothing else than to spare the financial drain he would be as an unwed adult. But Nada's attitude, and Merle's ready agreement, piqued her anger once again and she decided to be stubborn.

"But Mother, it's a very good opportunity for Auger," Nada said, unsure of why she had to explain things to the woman who had taught her everything she knew about society.

The butler came back out pushing a cart and Merle sat up straighter, his eagerness for the wine furthering Irmara's anger. "I will not have Tenet's child paraded around like some circus monkey!" she snapped at the group.

Nada flipped her fan open again as she glared at her mother. "Here we go again. Here we go choosing Tenet over everyone else."

Merle sighed and grabbed for the wine bottle before the cart was all the way in the gazebo. "Nada," he warned, not wanting to hear yet another rant against the brother who had been far too kind to her, in his opinion.

Irmara turned to watch Violet and the other two children. They were on the neatly clipped lawn under a shade tree, far enough away so they couldn't hear what was being said about them all. She wondered just what they would think if they could hear. They'd probably learn the way of things a whole lot sooner, she thought. Auger would learn that his parents thought very little of him and Violet would learn that they would sell her life to make the boring brat a good match. They would all learn just how much they would be used, these tiny little pawns of society. Feeling an uncharacteristic pang of guilt, Irmara passed over her tea cup and instead took a tumbler from the wine tray. She held it out and waited for Merle to pour, then she took a fortifying sip of the burning liquid.

"You cannot tell me you'd let such a great opportunity for your own grandson pass by," Nada said to her mother. "Don't make the same mistake twice."

Irmara was furious to the very depths of her core. How dare Nada say such things? How dare Nada use her failures with Tenet's championships against her? And how dare she let that sniveling brat she raised make her feel guilty? Irmara pressed her nails into her palm, feeling the stab and concentrating on that instead of the war within.

Merle saw the fire in Irmara's eyes for a brief second before she looked away. "That was a low blow, wife," he said almost under his breath.

Maybe she did push it a bit too far, Nada conceded to herself. But she did not want her boy suffering the same fate as Tenet. No one championed for him when he was young. No one secured him a match until it was too late. Her father was busy running the country and assumed her mother would do her duty to their boy. Her mother was far too busy dallying with the farm hands and playing doctor with the workers to pay attention to what was happening in her own home. As Nada got older, she realized just how badly Irmara had bungled things for Tenet right from the start. There were people who should never have children, and in Nada's opinion, Irmara was one of those women. She may have pressed her point in the wrong way, but that didn't make it untrue.

"I'm sorry, Mother," Nada lied. "But even you must admit there are certain similarities. Perhaps the girl is your second chance to help me do for Auger what you did not do for Tenet."

Merle was angry on Irmara's behalf, but he had to give his wife credit. She was right. He'd be damned if he said as much, though. If he so much as opened his mouth, he'd have to pick a side, and he'd suffer greatly no matter which side he chose. So he wisely kept his mouth too full of wine to speak. He wished Bradwin was outside and he could go off and discuss the politics he didn't really care about or the crop reports he cared even less for. He'd go off with Bradwin and discuss just about anything to get him away from the two women who were once again at each others' throats.

To everyone's surprise, Irmara rose without chastising Nada. "Violet, come and get refreshments," she called to the girl.

Nada frowned. "Yes, and you too, Auger and Anka," she called, annoyed but not surprised that her mother intentionally ignored them.

The children raced towards the gazebo. Actually, Irmara thought, only one child raced. Violet ran with a grin, her dress and hair bouncing behind in the wind she created by simply being lively. The other two stood, brushed themselves off, fixed their outfits, then walked sedately on the path towards the gazebo. Irmara wanted to run with her granddaughter. She wanted to take her hand and turn around and run across the grass in her bare feet until they got to the great fields of golden wheat and could play "catch me" in the tall rows through the afternoon. She wanted it so badly that she had to order her feet to remain in their shoes.

Violet reached her and stood panting. "Auger said a refreshment is a snack."

"Are you hungry?" Irmara asked, wanting to smooth the sweaty hair back out of the girl's face.

Violet nodded. "But I don't want anymore Yum Yum cakes. I had enough of those forever."

"Those were your father's favorites," Irmara said, pointing to a bench for Violet to take a seat.

"Mumma said too much sugar makes you weak and slow." She reached out to take the glass from her grandmother's hands and took a sip of some kind of sour drink. She crinkled her nose and tried hard to swallow it without making a scene. Da would have considered it rude for her not to eat what someone gave her, but it was so sour she didn't plan on taking another sip.

"You don't like lemonade?" Anka asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bench next to Violet.

It was the first time Violet heard the girl speak. Her voice was very quiet, and she sounded very grown up for her being so small. "I never had it before."

Anka picked up her own glass and took a tiny, dainty sip. "We have it all the time here."

"Violet is from a place that does not grow lemons," Irmara told Anka, wondering if she'd ever heard the girl say so much before.

Anka made a small face, and in that moment she looked just like her mother. "That is silly. Everyone has lemons."

Violet shrugged and took a bite of a vegetable cake. "We don't have lemons."

"Well," said Nada. "You do now."

Violet didn't want lemons. She wanted home. The vegetable cake in her mouth suddenly tasted like rotten mush and she put the rest on her plate. The adults began to talk again and she looked at her cousins. Anka was small and quiet and very pale. When Violet had tried to get her to run in the grass, she gave Violet such an angry look that Violet gave up and left her alone to sit on the cobblestones. She had turned her attention to Auger, and while he did get up and follow her to a tree, he would not touch the weird caterpillar she found, even when she held it out to him. And he picked his nose. A lot. Now that they were getting a snack, they both sat just like the adults, with their backs straight and taking tiny little bites and tiny little sips. They weren't anything like her friends back home and she suddenly missed Beddick so much it ached.

"I don't feel well Grandmother," she said miserably.

Irmara was immensely relieved to have an excuse to cut the afternoon short and get away from her daughter. She stood quickly. "Yes, I imagine it has been a long day for you. Come, let us get you to bed." She tugged at Violet's hand, then they got out of there before Nada even realized what happened.

"Mother! You cannot walk out on tea!" she called after her mother. But Irmara completely ignored her and Nada watched the pair retreat into the house.

Merle poured another glass of wine. "I'm sure the little girl has had enough for one day," he told Nada.

Nada fanned herself, her cheeks hot with anger. "Well! Can you even believe that?" She pointed her fan to her daughter. "I do not want you to lower yourself to her antics, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mother," the girl said, taking another tiny nibble of a vegetable cake.

"Auger, get your finger out of your nose and listen to me." Auger popped his finger out of its favorite place and looked at his mother. "You must teach Violet how to behave like a proper young lady. Both of you," she instructed.

"You already told us that, Mother," said Anka.

"I know. But now you have seen for yourselves just how desperately she needs your guidance. I want you both to make it a top priority to educate her whenever you see her acting inappropriately."

"Damn, Nada. They're just kids themselves," Merle said, swirling his wine in his nearly empty glass.

She whacked him on the arm with her folded fan. "Language! Really I do not know what has gotten into you today."

Merle sighed and knew it was a battle he could not win. So he poured himself another wine and didn't even try. As his wife continued to hen-peck their children he closed his eyes and wished the wine was stronger.

Inside Violet's room, Irmara brushed Violet's hair out of her face as she held her on her lap. "I know you miss your friends, but you really must give your cousins a chance."

Violet sniffed. "They don't like me."

Irmara was not going to tell the child another lie. "No," she admitted. "But take heart. I do not believe they like anyone." She gave Violet a conspiratorial wink that had the desired effect and made the little girl giggle in spite of her tears. "There's a good girl. Always put on a brave face, especially around those who do not like you."

"I want my Da," Violet whispered.

Irmara pressed her lips together. "So you have said."

"I just wanted to say it so you wouldn't forget."

Irmara said nothing more on the subject as she tucked her granddaughter into the large bed. "Now, you sleep. Tomorrow you will have lots of fun."

Violet's eyes perked up. "Doing what?"

"First, you will get a fitting."

"What's a fitting?"

Irmara smiled and fluffed the pillow behind Violet. "It's when a seamstress measures you to make you new clothes." When Violet opened her mouth to protest, Irmara quirked an eyebrow. "We already discussed the leathers, young lady." Violet bit her lip and nodded. "Good. Then after the seamstress leaves, we will have a stylist come." She waited for the girl to ask, and when she did, Irmara explained. "A stylist will come and cut your hair and fix those eyebrows and make your skin look light and fresh."

Violet frowned. "My eyebrows aren't broke."

"Broken," Irmara corrected. "And you're right, but they are indeed a mess." She smoothed her hand over the coverlet. "And then we'll have even more fun meeting your tutor."

Violet crinkled her nose. She knew what a tutor was. "Do I hafta have school?"

Irmara tried to retain her patience. "There is no such word as 'hafta', and if I need to tell you so, then yes, young lady, you most certainly do need school!" She rose and clicked off the electric light by Violet's bed. "Now, time for sleep. Trust me, you'll have great fun tomorrow."

Violet did not have great fun the next day. The seamstress poked and prodded and made her stand completely still even though she had an itch on her nose. The stylist came next and chopped off so much of her hair that she cried and cried because she was sure her Da wouldn't even recognize her when he came to get her back. Her grandmother had to spend a great deal of time calming her down, which made the stylist annoyed enough that instead of "fixing" Violet's eyebrows, she ripped out the hairs to make her suffer. Though her grandmother assured her over and over that the stylist was not, in fact, being mean, just doing her job, Violet saw the woman smile when she ripped the hairs out. She silently put a curse on the woman.

The first tutoring session was the last and most trying part of the day, for Violet and Irmara both. Irmara had personally selected a young and malleable man to be Violet's initial tutor, someone she could control who she could be certain would keep his mouth shut. It would be his job to take the hard edge off Violet. He would teach her the basics of her new culture, and be paid very handsomely with a match high above his station for keeping the details of whatever came out of her mouth private.

From their first introduction, it became clear that the task would prove to be far more difficult than either Irmara or the tutor, Bodi Canton, imagined. "I am Mr. Canton and I shall be your tutor, Violet."

Violet frowned. "Teachers are s'posed to be ladies," she said.

Bodi gave a small smile. "Not always. Now, your grandmother tells me you are from way up north, is that correct, Violet?"

"You hafta call me Miss Violet," she said. Bodi looked to Irmara who simply shrugged.

"Fine, Miss Violet it is. You may call me Bodi."

Violet's eyes went wide. "But I'm only a kid! I hafta call you Mr. Canton."

Bodi cleared his throat. "Ah, okay. You call me Mr. Canton, I'll call you Miss Bradwin."

Violet folded her arms across her chest. "My last name is Lorne. And you call me Miss Violet because I'm just a kid." She shook her head and looked to her grandmother, her expression clearly saying that she thought Mr. Canton was an idiot.

Irmara pressed her lips together to keep from cracking a smile. She had heard a similar exchange between her butler and the girl just that morning before breakfast. "In Violet's, um, 'culture', it seems an unmarried lady must be called Miss and then her given name before she reaches her majority."

"I...see," said Bodi, not really understanding but deciding it was not worth arguing about any longer. "Miss Violet, Mr. Canton. Now that we have names all set, I believe I should begin by gaining an understanding of your educational level."

Irmara sighed inside. He was drab and dull and entirely far too handsome to be so boring. She stood and walked to the window to stare out while Bodi peppered Violet with questions. His warm voice droned on and Irmara let herself get caught up in a fantasy where he used that voice for a much more fun purpose. She tuned the two of them out until Violet demanded her attention. She spun quickly from the window. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Violet pointed at Bodi. "He says Grandmother is a witch!"

Irmara's eyes went to Bodi's and she squinted. "You have told the child I am a witch?"

Bodi shook his head fiercely. "No, ma'am! Of course not, ma'am!"

"She has no other grandmother," Irmara said coldly, wondering why she wasted her time fantasizing about such an insolent boy, no matter how smooth his voice might be.

Bodi sighed and went to loosen his tie before he thought better of it. He took a sip of water instead to gather his thoughts so he could explain. "While I am not precisely certain myself, it would appear that in the village from which she hails there is a matriarchal society placing some imaginary figure at the top of a pyramid of power, with the human embodiment of this..." he waved his hand around, searching for the right word, "goddess of sorts being a woman they call Grandmother."

Irmara gave a small nod. "I see. And you called this woman a witch?"

Bodi did not know why Irmara was so angry. "I cannot think of another word to adequately describe her position or place, especially since Miss Violet had indicated that there is an other-worldly power attributed to one in that position."

Irmara counted to ten in her head. The same things had been said about her own culture, even though they had no priestesses. It didn't matter to those who staunchly practiced the national religion. Anyone outside, even the others from known third worlds, who prayed to beings were not only frowned upon but openly mocked. She tried to tell herself the same things she'd said over and over through the years, that they only mocked because they didn't understand. Bodi was not making fun of her granddaughter, he simply did not know what he was saying and doing. She calmed herself down before she spoke.

"Mr. Canton, if you will not chose your words with more care then you will find yourself in sore need of a new job." Irmara ignored his hurt look and turned to Violet. "I am going to be more clear than Mr. Canton. Your belief system is different than ours, and you must keep your tongue and listen to what Mr. Canton is saying."

Violet's lip quivered but she did not cry. "Grandmother is not a witch."

"No, she is not. I'm sure she is a strong and powerful woman in her community. But we are no longer in that community. You must listen to Mr. Canton and not speak of your tribal beliefs."

Violet sniffed, her anger making her eyes bright and dangerous. Mr. Canton scooted back in his seat, and Irmara was silently elated that her granddaughter had so much power in her being. "So it's like hunting?" she said quietly after several uncomfortable moments. Mr. Canton gasped at the very word.

"Yes, Violet. It is like hunting."

Violet's little fists clenched. She didn't want to have to keep things to herself. She was supposed to learn all about them but they didn't even want to listen to anything about her.

"Violet," Irmara urged in a firm voice.

"Fine," the girl bit out, still shooting daggers at Bodi. "I won't talk about Grandmother."

"Very well. Continue your lesson, Mr. Canton."

Bodi swallowed hard and ran a hand over his hair. Witches and hunting? Just where did they find this poor girl? The enormity of the job in front of him was suddenly like a weight on his shoulder and he knew he had his work cut out for him.

By the time the sun was setting and Irmara dismissed Bodi for the day, everyone was exhausted, and Irmara agreed to let Violet take her dinner in her bedroom. She decided to eat with her granddaughter, and they sat at a very small table eating their vegetable tureen. Violet picked at it with her fork and kicked her legs under the table.

"You do not like vegetables?" Irmara asked.

"I want..." she was about to tell her grandmother she wanted some beef steak, but bit her lip. If her grandmother didn't want to hear about hunting, then she probably didn't want to hear about the spring culling of the livestock. "I like them fine," Violet said, sounding sad and tired but, thankfully, resigned.

Irmara was very proud that the girl remembered herself. She was learning. It would be a long process, but she was learning. "Then eat up like a good girl," she said, taking a bite of her own dinner. She gave Violet a pointed look, then smiled when the girl finally picked her fork back up and took another bite.

Violet swallowed the vegetables and knew she had to eat more. Her dress was itching her knees again and even though her grandmother let her take those awful shoes off when they got back to her room, she could still feel the line where the straps dug in across her ankle. She wanted meat. She wanted her soft slippers. She wanted her leathers. If she could just find where they were hidden, she could put them on and get out of the large cold house. She could find a horse and then click her tongue and be on her way home.

Those thoughts brought her comfort as she ate and took her bath. She thought of finding her leathers as she put on the frilly gown her grandmother made her wear to bed. She thought about a bow as her grandmother said good night. That might be hard to find, she admitted. She hadn't seen any bows around yet. And there were a lot of guards. Even if she did find a bow, she did not know if she was good enough to take out more than one guard. They were much faster than old sheep, after all.

Violet sighed. Maybe she could not get out. Then she just had to hope her Da would hurry up and get her himself. He should be there soon, she told herself over and over. And until then, she would pretend.

Chapter 10

Bradwin sat in his empty board room long after the rest of the Council had been dismissed. He stared out the window over his wheat field, not really seeing what he was looking at or hearing the maids cleaning up the room behind him, until the sun hovered just above the horizon. He had a lot of thinking to do, yet he found he could not concentrate. There were simply too many things to consider all at once, and he was tired. He was so very tired.

There was a knock at his door that brought him back to reality. "Enter," he barked.

His secretary poked his head into the room and announced that Jiti Ton's transport was coming up the drive. "Very well," he said, dismissing his man.

Jiti Ton had been Tenet's best friend as a child. The son of one of Bradwin's workers, the boy was of such a low caste that Bradwin's gut instinct had been to forbid the friendship. However, Jiti Ton was a very trusting boy. He had high hopes and dreams, and Bradwin saw an opportunity. He not only allowed the friendship, but saw to it that Jiti Ton was able to join the academy. In all the years since, Bradwin never regretted that decision. Jiti Ton was now his top military advisor and worked with a diligence he wished his own children had possessed.

Poor Jiti Ton, Bradwin thought with near sincerity. The past few months had thrown the man's very world into chaos. Like most of the people in the upper castes, and almost all commoners not living near the actual border itself, Jiti Ton had been shocked to learn of the Borderlands. Many decades before, when the Borderlanders refused to incorporate with New Canada and Southland in one united government, it was decided by those in charge, mostly Bradwin's ancestors, that for the peace of the population it would be best to pretend the area was uninhabitable. Since all education and religion were state controlled, it was simple to tame the sheep. The transports that flew over the Borderlands during the biannual migrations had no windows in the civilian cabins, so they could not see the world they flew over. Bases were established near the border to abduct and train any who crossed the border. Those who did not keep their information to themselves ended up in the state run mental asylums, and the few times there had been stories in the press about the Borderlands, it had been a fairly simple matter to discredit the reporters and get them out of the public eye permanently.

In more recent years, the growing population in Bradwin's nation required his father, the man in charge at the time, to search for other food sources beyond what his people could grow. His father traded with the third world nations, but they had very little to offer. Early in his career, he had orchestrated trading with the gangs from the Borderlands, the Cons who ran the place. He'd trade for meat for the poor people who didn't care what they ate, and whatever bean and corn crops he could get his hands on. In the beginning, he traded drugs grown in Southland. It was a simple solution for him, since the warmer growing fields of Southland produced excellent coca plants for cocaine and the right type of flowers for heroin. It took nothing to requisition extra fields off the books to grow enough to meet Con demand, and very little effort was necessary to keep the chain of delivery a secret. Once Bradwin took the reins from his old man, he kept up the exchange. It never ceased to amaze him just how much one would do to feed their family.

It was a good system, in Bradwin's opinion. It worked for forty years. If the Borderlands hadn't decided to get tough on the Cons, to make its own legitimate government, the uneven trading would still be working that very day. The new government didn't care for letting their citizens be drugged out on cocaine. Slowly they began to shut down Bradwin's supply lines, until Bradwin had no choice but to offer them legitimate trades. Money. Cloths made from cotton. Fancy foods for the elite they couldn't grow in the temperamental Borderlands climate. Though it galled him to have to pay real prices to a bunch of heathens, barbarians, and witches, his people needed to eat. It was as simple as that. He paid for enough things to make it seem as if he'd changed his ways, and the Borderlands fledgling government shifted its priorities to more pressing internal matters, leaving Bradwin alone for the most part.

And then that young government started to get a swelled head. They shut more and more of his drug runs down, and threatened to cut off all trading if he didn't start treating them like a viable world power. He had scrambled for years trying to find other food sources, but every option turned up short. He tried to pass a law that would limit the number of children per family as a measure of population control, but that had been an utter failure. He made up his mind years ago that his citizens would need to learn of the Borderlands, if only so he could gain the upper hand again. But, he knew it would have to be done carefully. He began to make diplomatic trips to the border to meet with some of their representatives. He had signed bullshit treaties to keep them quiet, all the while sizing up for himself their level of power and to get a feel for the enemy. He spent years quietly planning, grooming his people, and laying the foundation for a unification of nations. Or a hostile takeover. He personally didn't care either way as long as he got his payday in the end.

But, Bradwin had to go carefully. He was on the cusp of all he wanted, and one wrong step could risk it all. He thought he may have taken that wrong move when he blew off the meeting in Leonsburg. He never expected it to be any sort of real summit. He planned the stop simply as a ready excuse to explain his presence in the Borderlands in case he was spotted. He believed he would meet with some local government official, pump hands in front of their media, make a few bullshit promises to an eager crowd, and leave. He believed it would be a glorified photo op. Instead, he had walked into an official summit, complete with high brass and legitimate treaties of trade.

Bradwin was normally good on the spot. So many years at the helm made thinking on his feet an ingrained habit. However, his granddaughter was sitting in the running hover plane on the helipad on top of the building. He got a brief glimpse of a group of official-looking riders bearing down on them as the door of the plane closed and was certain that Jace would sell him out in a heart beat. And Violet had cried and cried the entire plane ride, even when he threatened that she'd never see her Mumma again if she kept it up. Quite simply, he had been rattled and frazzled and pretty much blew off the whole summit. He did what he had planned on doing. He shook some hands, mugged for the cameras, and left.

Bradwin's spies on the border had quickly reported back, and it wasn't long before he realized just how much of a faux pas he committed. The Borderlands officials fumed. They closed all trades immediately and armed their borders. At first, Bradwin had panicked. But the days of meetings, both official and off the records, along with further intel sent from his men across the border had calmed him. He didn't screw everything up, not yet. In fact, he simply pushed the time line up a little. The Borderlanders closed their borders and trades. The next obvious step if Bradwin persisted was an assault, and he planned on giving them just the type of provocation needed to ensure that would happen. And then what would he have? He'd have barbarians threatening to kill his citizens, that's what. He'd have their strong-arm tactics be the very first, ghastly introduction his people would have to the backwoods culture. He'd play on the Enlightened Humanism tenets of peace and serenity and let those stand in stark contrast to the outlaw warriors. And if that wasn't enough, if his nation was still hesitant to go to war, then he always had the ace up his sleeve.

Poor Jiti Ton, though, was almost as much in the dark as the rest of his people. He knew outlaws lived in an area they called the Borderlands, since he'd lead the official search for Tenet all those years ago. He, of course, had stumbled upon their border and been summarily turned around by renegades. Bradwin remembered with glee how shaken up Jiti Ton had been at the very thought that people would break the law and live in the "Badlands". That incident had played out better than Bradwin had expected, and he gave the boy a promotion for his "discovery", assuring his strict confidence. Yet, every new piece of information Jiti Ton was allowed to "discover" shook the kid to his core. It tugged at something in Bradwin, but it couldn't be helped. Jiti Ton was an excellent litmus test for the rest of the nation.

As soon as the young man knocked and entered, Bradwin wasted no time. "It's been a long day, Jiti Ton. This better not be another blow."

"I've received a report I believe you must hear, sir," Jiti Ton said, taking the seat across from Bradwin's desk. He waited until the old man sat, then got right to the point. "The borders have not only been closed, but they are now armed." He passed over a report he received from one of the outpost bases closest to the border.

Bradwin didn't even look at the com. He already had his personal task force reporting on the border. "So it would seem."

Jiti Ton was surprised Mr. Bradwin already knew. "I, uh...well that is, we did not understand that the renegades had any formal military force."

"Those renegades are very well organized, much more than they should be," Bradwin confirmed to the soldier. "They've spent years stealing our weapons and ammunitions right out from under our noses." He watched the look of outrage spread across Jiti Ton's face and had to keep down his own smile. "It's unconscionable."

"You said yesterday that they claim to want a real government. I don't understand why they have turned their noses up at the very basics of diplomacy."

Bradwin snorted. "Because they are barbarians! Pigs! Dogs who scratch in their own shit. They are desperate people who are doing desperate things, and that makes them dangerous." When Jiti Ton looked hesitant, Bradwin lifted a shoulder. "I have been there myself, Jiti Ton. You would not believe the horrible conditions they allow their people to live in. Squatters in their own filth, that's what they are. They kill and then wear the very skins of the poor animals!" He hissed the last part in a disgusted voice and it had the desired effect. Jiti Ton paled in front of him. "They put their children in those skins. And you expect those animals to be capable of reason?"

Jiti Ton shook his head. "I can't believe that's where Tenet chose to go."

Aha, thought Bradwin, holding his hands firmly on the table so he wouldn't clap with excitement. "I have said before that I question whether he had a choice in that escapade, and after seeing how my granddaughter was..." he let his words trail off as if he couldn't bear to say them out loud.

A muscle clenched in Jiti Ton's jaw. "I'm sorry, sir. I know he is your son, but captive or not, how he could allow such goings on..."

Bradwin patted the young man's shoulder. "Yes, it is a mystery. Perhaps if I had been able to find Tenet." He sighed heavily again. "If only I had been able to search longer...but at least I got my granddaughter. At least I saved her from that witch."

Jiti Ton looked even more uncomfortable. "Sir, are you absolutely certain the girl is Tenet's?"

"We've tested the blood. It's a direct match." He gave a firm nod. "She's my granddaughter."

Jiti Ton shook his head and felt the years of regrets press down on him once again. "I know Tenet and I didn't part on the best of terms, but I never wanted this for him. Do you think we'll ever get him back?"

Jiti Ton had been jilted at the altar by a bride Bradwin convinced him had eyes only for Tenet. To say that the two didn't part on the best of terms was an understatement. If Bradwin could get a man who hated Tenet to feel pity for his son, then he knew he could get the rest of the world that had mourned Tenet's loss to fully rally behind his cause. "I'm certainly going to do my best," Bradwin said, sounding every bit the concerned father. "Was there anything beyond this report that you needed?"

Jiti Ton shook his head. "No, that was all."

"I thank you for it. I'll be sure to look through your figures later. I'm certain they're more accurate than the half-assed reports I get from the bases." He saw his compliment do the job and by the time Jiti Ton rose to leave, the soldier looked eager and determined. Bradwin almost pitied him.

Once Bradwin was alone, he called his butler to summon Irmara. It was several minutes before the butler returned to announce that Irmara would be along presently. Bradwin rose and walked to the window once again to watch a tractor hover down the row of wheat. He knew the workers were testing its ripeness, that it was almost time for the harvest. Once the wheat harvest was complete, he'd have no choice but to move the family down to oversee the corn crop reaping, where they would be in the spotlight. Though the press hounded them on their wheat ranch, the bulk of society spent Winter far more south, down in the corn and barley sectors, preferring the near tropical weather. Normally that's where Irmara and Nada would spend their Winter. He longed for his normal solitude, but some things could not be. At the moment, they all had to make sacrifices.

Irmara's heels clicked quickly outside the door and she strode into his meeting hall without knocking. "I was eating dinner with Violet. This better be important. She's still got so much to learn."

Bradwin turned and looked at his wife. "I require a progress report, a real one."

Irmara's lips twitched in a faint, wry smile. "I take it you find Mr. Canton's dry verbiage a little circumspect."

Bradwin rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I think the boy believes I'll skin him alive if he just comes out and says what's on his mind."

Irmara took a seat. "Yes, he does tend to skirt around the problem."

Bradwin quirked an eyebrow. "And is she?"

"A problem?" No, she wanted to tell him. She is only wild and free. But that was not what Bradwin would accept, nor what she could honestly say. "She is coming along."

Bradwin snorted. "You sound just like Canton."

Irmara reined in her impatience. "What would you have me say, Bradwin? Is she working hard? Yes. Is she looking better? Yes. But she is only a child, and it's only been a few days. You can't present her, not yet. You need to give it a little more time."

Bradwin turned and looked out the window, clasping his hands behind his back. "They've closed the borders and cut off all trades. We are running out of time."

Irmara's jaw clenched tightly and she fought the urge to childishly stick her tongue out at Bradwin's back. "Had you informed me of the situation sooner, I could have been better prepared."

Bradwin hated the anger in her tone, but had to admit that he deserved it on some level. He had kept the fact that Tenet lived to himself for many years while he reconfigured his long term plan. He never expected the bounty hunter to do anything but turn the boy in. When she ran with Tenet, it threw all his hard work into chaos. It was easier to sell the story that Tenet died to Irmara than to risk having her discover the truth. His life was hard enough without that. So when he told her a few months back that her son actually lived, that he was captured and sold into slavery in the Badlands, he knew it wouldn't go over well. The look in her eyes at the time also said that she didn't believe Bradwin was innocent or unknowing the whole time, either. He couldn't blame her for being angry. However, in his opinion, she really was carrying the grudge a little too far. She had the child, didn't she?

"You have everything you need here," he said calmly, refusing to rise to the bait. "You simply need to push her harder."

Irmara scoffed. "Five years old, Bradwin. You can't expect miracles."

"Do not make excuses for this one like you did with Tenet. We all know how that turned out."

Irmara pulled back as if she'd been slapped, Nada's accusation still fresh in her mind. "You stand there and blame _me_ for the way Tenet turned out?"

"Is it not the mother's responsibility to raise a child? Instead you were too busy screwing the farmhands."

It took all of Irmara's self control not to scratch his eyes out. "At least I was there. At least I tried to do something with the boy. You never once treated him as anything other than a burden."

Bradwin spun around. "What did you expect? You tainted him from birth! You turned him against me before I even had a chance!"

"That's because I knew what kind of a monster you were by then!" Irmara was beyond caring about appearances and stood, shaking with the pent up rage.

Bradwin snorted. "You didn't think I was a monster when you spread your legs for me." Irmara's eyes flared and Bradwin felt an old stirring. She never showed emotion anymore. She never let herself feel. And in her anger, she was beautiful. She was that young, wild little thing he couldn't resist.

"You were thirty years older than me," Irmara said slowly and clearly through clenched teeth. "Thirty. Years. You were a sophisticated full grown man and I was a naive, sheltered child who knew nothing about the real world."

Bradwin groaned. "Here we go again! I'd like to remind you that I didn't exactly strip you of your maiden head."

Irmara threw her hands in the air. "And now we come to the part where you belittle my people. Come on. Let's have it. Let's throw my heritage up in my face once again."

Bradwin looked at her and all his anger fled. He simply felt old and tired again. He turned back to the window and listened to her heavy breathing. He could almost feel her pull her feelings back inside and put them away. He heard her pour herself a glass of water from the carafe on the table and then place the glass down. He didn't have to turn to know how the scene looked. How many times had he watched Irmara change back to stone?

"What happened with Tenet happened," she said, her voice once again gone cold. "And I am doing everything in my power to make sure that Violet does not go down the same path. She is bright and eager. You simply must give me more time." Irmara turned to leave and got almost to the door before Bradwin responded.

"You could have left a long time ago, Irmara. I gave you that option dozens of times and you chose to stay. I'm a monster? Maybe. But then, what does that say about you?"

Irmara's hand was shaking as she turned the doorknob and it took all of her will not to run from the room.

Bradwin heard the click of the door and smiled to himself. He knew his wife would worry over that for the rest of the night. He knew it would make her squirm. She could have left. The plain truth was, she didn't want to. She wanted the fancy perfumes and the big houses. She wanted the money and power Bradwin could give her. She liked to be above the law and took every advantage she could, just like him. She stayed because at heart, they were two peas in a pod. The only difference was that Bradwin accepted that fact while she continued to fight it even after all these years together.

No matter how angry she was, Irmara would do right by the girl. Bradwin was certain. Though Nada was an annoying, insipid, spoiled child, she was considered a paragon by society. She was everything the peons strove to be, and Bradwin gave all that credit to Irmara. Perhaps Irmara simply didn't have it in her to raise boys. He had every faith that his wife would turn Violet into an acceptable granddaughter for the exalted Leader. The only reason he summoned Irmara was to needle her, to make certain she'd make him eat his words, to stiffen her resolve if only to spite him. Bradwin let out a small laugh. Yes, she'd spite him. And in doing do, she'd once again give him everything he wanted in the end.

There was another knock on the door, and a butler announced that his private council had assembled and was ready with the latest reports from the border. Bradwin put aside all thoughts of his wife and granddaughter, satisfied that things would be handled on that front, and spent the rest of his night deep in discussion with his secret detail.

Chapter 11

Fratz pulled to a stop when his horse whinnied in a way he knew meant the beast was very close to throwing his big ass off if it didn't get to rest soon. "We can't go no more if'na want ta keep my seat," he said when Tenet asked why they were stopping.

Though Tenet was hellbent on reaching Carlton as quickly as possible, he had to admit that he was ready for the break. His thighs had been rubbed raw by the saddle and he was desperate for the aloe cream he carried in his pack. He slowly worked his leg over the saddle and hopped down to the ground, landing with an "oof" and an ungraceful stumble. He held his hand up to help Scarab and knew as soon as she accepted any help at all that she needed the break as well. They were attempting to complete a two week journey in a few days, and it was demanding on even the most seasoned in the group.

"Thanks," Scarab said, letting go of Tenet's hand as soon as she was on the ground.

Tenet nodded and waddled off to make use of a tree. That was how it had been between them for two days. Not unfriendly, exactly, but certainly distant. Scarab rubbed her thighs to get the feeling back in her legs. They had ridden for nearly seven straight hours and she felt it in every muscle. "Another four hour stop?" she asked Fratz.

Fratz stood and leaned back, sighing in relief when his back let out a loud crack. "Think we be needin' the whole night, missy." He saw Scarab's scowl and shrugged. "Sorry."

Scarab let out a breath and made her way to a bush to relieve herself. She knew they all needed rest, knew the horses were strung out, knew they needed to try and get real sleep not just a nap. Even Wren and his men were showing signs of fatigue. They had to rest, no matter how much she wanted to keep going. She finished her business and stood, her knees creaking with the effort. Not for the first time on this trip she thought about how old she was getting. She almost regretted putting her body through so much when she was younger.

Back at the camp, Scarab was surprised to see tents being erected. They hadn't bothered with them the night before when they only had four hours to eat, water the horses, treat saddle wounds, and catch a quick nap. It hadn't made sense to waste any of that time in putting up tents. "Getting too old to sleep in the fresh air, Fratz?" she asked, as she took up the poles Tenet was working with and helped him click them together.

Fratz gave her a grin. "I tole ya a long time ago, I don't like sleepin' on the ground. I figure I'm the boss man now, I get me a tent for a snooze." He motioned toward the Celtist warriors who were crouched down to start a fire. "We have enough ta share."

"Keep your tents," Wren said, not even looking up from his task. Tenet made a little noise in his throat and Wren stood to address Fratz directly. "Many thanks, but we will sleep under the Mother's bounty."

Fratz held in a sigh. They were all working towards the same goal, yet they were still so far apart. His men only said a handful of words to the warriors, and only then when absolutely necessary. It was no good. If he couldn't even get his own soldiers to show these warriors respect, then things would get very hairy at the base. "This be good huntin' land," he said to Wren. "We might use some fresh meat, if'na want ta hunt for some."

Wren sized the man up. There was a look in the soldier's eye that said he had a plan, and it only took a second for Wren to catch on. Though he was trying, it had been impossible to get Takar and Lendyl to be anything but wary of the soldiers. He saw what Fratz was doing and gave a small nod to the clever man. "We will need help. There are deer signs and an organized hunt would be in order."

Fratz smiled, glad the leader of the Celtists warriors was a man of reason. "Olaf, Kanto, go with them." He chose the two he thought would warm up to the warriors the easiest. Olaf gave a small grumble, but Kanto obeyed without question. Fratz noticed that Kanto even bowed to Wren as he passed, and the boy clearly had a basic understanding of Celtist culture. In fact, by the time the small party was out of view, Kanto appeared to be speaking with young Lendyl. Though neither held high positions in their groups, both being young as they were, it was a start to building ties between them all.

"Nice thinking," said Scarab, fluffing out the tarp they'd put over the tent poles.

Fratz gave her a wink and set to helping his men erect their tents. Soon the camp was set up and Scarab and Tenet went off to gather wood for the fire. Fratz was glad to have a minute without their tense silence. He sincerely hoped Tenet would say something stupid and start a fight. The two needed to get the air clear and they needed to do it soon.

Tenet drew a large knife from his belt and began sawing a huge branch he found.

"We'd do better to get the small stuff back first so they have something to build with, first," Scarab pointed out.

Tenet's jaw tightened. "Are you telling me how to start a fire?"

Scarab sighed and scooped up another armful of twigs. "I'll just get the small stuff, then."

She stormed back to camp with the first load, and Tenet frowned at her back. He turned and began to hack at the large branch in earnest. He weakened it, then brought his foot down on the weak spot, feeling a deep satisfaction as the branch cracked in half. He started in on the next section and Scarab returned.

"I wasn't telling you how to build a fire," Scarab snapped.

"Sure sounded like it to me." He brought his arm up and thunked the blade down into the wood as hard as he could.

His tone of voice set Scarab off even more. "Fine, then. Have it your way. Build a fire from the start with huge, wet logs. I'm sure you'll get far that way." She bent over and snatched up a long stick, then snapped it hard over her knee.

"See? You _were_ telling me how to build a fire!" Tenet shook his head. "Unbelievable. You really have no faith in me whatsoever, do you?"

Scarab threw her hands in the air. "And we're back to this."

"Back? We never left 'this'!" Tenet bellowed. He stared at her, waiting for her to fight back. When she simply glared back, he swore and started hacking at the log again.

"I'm...sorry," Scarab said after a few silent moments, biting the word out between clenched teeth. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that." She felt better for getting it out, and fully expected Tenet to accept her apology.

Tenet scoffed. "You call that an apology?" He cut his hand through the air. "Nope. Not taking it. Not this time. Maybe if you meant it..."

Scarab felt her own anger bubble back up. "Are you kidding me? I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it and you damn well know that!"

"So you get to say whatever you want and I'm just supposed to let you, huh? Damn my feelings. Damn what I think." Tenet let out a bitter laugh. "No faith in me at all, and after all I went through to get to you."

Scarab marched up to him and stood on her tip toes, her face right in his. "So now you're going to hold that against me, is that it?"

"I'm not holding anything against you. I just want you to realize that I'm not the bumbling idiot I used to be."

"I never said you were."

Tenet laughed in bitterness. "And yet, you keep trying to control every part of this rescue mission. You can't let anyone help, even just a little. Nothing's changed, has it?"

The frustration inside Scarab was too much. "Everything's changed!" she screamed. "I've changed so damn much I can't even do this anymore. I let them take her and I let myself get caught."

Tenet opened his mouth, then shut it again, stunned at what she was saying.

"I got soft, I got weak. That's really what this is about, isn't it? Say it."

Tenet shook his head, stunned. "That's not what I..."

"Say it!" she yelled, begging him to put the blame where it belonged.

"What are we doing?" Tenet cut in, the anger suddenly gone. He didn't want to yell at her. He didn't want to fight. He dropped his arm and sat heavily on the branch he'd been chopping. He looked so tired, so strung out. Scarab suddenly felt spent, and she walked over to flop on the branch by his side.

"I hate apologizing," she muttered. "But I didn't mean to sound like I blamed you or don't trust you. I...I just lashed out. I don't want you to be mad at me."

Tenet snorted in spite of his mood. He took her hand and held it, and Scarab was shocked to find he was shaking. "I'm not mad at you," he said quietly. "I'm so mad at myself I'm sick with it."

"Tenet..." But he squeezed her hand and she stopped talking.

After long moments of silence, Tenet finally felt like he could speak without breaking down. "Is this how angry you were all those years? Is this why you hunted?" He looked at Scarab and she felt a stab at the pain in his eyes. "Is this what you tried to outrun?"

Yes, Scarab wanted to scream. Yes it was, she wanted to cry. She suddenly felt naked and bare, vulnerable in a way she never had before and she found she couldn't say anything. Tenet looked at her for a few more moments, then drew her to him and crushed her in a desperate embrace.

"Make it stop," he whispered harshly.

Scarab shook her head. "I can't."

"Then at least don't make me go through it alone."

Scarab wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight. "I don't know how to do this," she admitted.

"Do what?"

"Hunt like I used to," she said quietly. "I can't...I've lost it and I..." she swallowed hard, fighting back her tears. "What if I'm not good enough to get her back?"

Tenet pulled back and wiped her tear off with his thumb. He gave a small little laugh. "What a pair we are." He kissed her nose. "You haven't lost anything, wife. You still scare the hell out of me every single day." Another tear fell, but he noticed a small sparkle in her eye. "And I'm glad you can't hunt the way you used to. That way left no room for me or Violet."

For some reason, that made Scarab feel better. "I was pissed when you decided to go to Carlton so quickly."

"No, really?" Tenet said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

"I'm not used to you making decisions like that."

Tenet's smile faded, but he his arms tightened around her. "I'm not sorry I did. I won't apologize..."

"I wasn't asking you to," Scarab said quickly, not wanting to get back to the distant silence. Had she actually once craved that? Had she really thought that was the better way to live? Things had changed in the intervening years, and as long as Tenet would help her figure it out, she could handle that. "But talk to me first."

"Seems we've had this conversation before, wife. Only the other way around"

Scarab gave a wry smile. "I believe we have, husband."

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander, eh?"

"Something like that." Tenet was smiling at her again, but she noticed it didn't reach his eyes. She knew the pain he was holding inside matched her own, and right there, she determined that she'd do whatever it took to make him really smile again. "We'll get her back, Tenet," Scarab whispered.

Tenet pulled Scarab closer, needing her warmth to reach the ice inside him that wouldn't seem to go away. It didn't. For the first time in his life, he simply could not be certain that things would work out well in the end and it was terrifying. The fact that Scarab was also unsure hammered home their desperate situation. They each told the other that victory was certain, but they were all hollow words. Even so, as they sat on the log holding each other, they desperately tried to believe them.

When they emerged from the forest with their arms full of wood, Fratz took one look at them and smiled in relief. "There ya are. I was jus' about ta send out me boys ta find ya lost in the woods."

Scarab dropped her kindling and squatted by the fire. "Has the hunt been successful?"

Fratz nodded toward the edge of the field. "Sure has, missy. They be dressin' a deer on a ways up."

Tenet took a seat on the ground next to Scarab. "I hope the deer's the only thing that got shot."

Wren was waxing his bow string near the fire. Though Takar and Lendyl hadn't been overtly rude to the soldiers, they hadn't done anything to make matters worse, either, and Tenet's tone annoyed him. "My men are proud warriors," he said in their defense.

"That they be," Fratz readily agreed. "And my lot's a bunch a' greenies. But they mean well."

Wren considered that silently as he continued to care for his weapons. He supposed the snide comments and furtive, hate-filled glances the young troops shot at Wren's men went unnoticed by the big soldier in charge. Of course they would, Wren couldn't help but think bitterly. He did not have to live a life being hated and feared by all who simply did not understand. It was not the soldier's fault that he had no idea how deeply words and looks could cut, and he held his tongue. They were making progress, and as Grandmother always said, that simply took time. Wren told himself this over and over until the old bitterness was once again in check.

The hunters returned with large chunks of venison and spits were hastily constructed. In no time, the smell of roasting meat brought everyone around the fire and they sat in numb exhaustion waiting for the delicious, fresh meal. No one spoke, but the silence wasn't an uncomfortable one. Kanto sat right next to Lendyl, and even Octavio was too tired to make sure he wasn't sitting close to a Celtist. When the meat was finally ready, it was sliced and passed around.

"I never thought venison would taste so good," Tenet said. Normally he didn't have a taste for deer, no matter how it was cooked.

"Anything tastes delicious if you're hungry enough," said Scarab, wiping the juice from her chin.

"So if I were to offer you a turnip right now..."

Tenet was teasing her and a part of her soul rejoiced. She gave him a wry smile. "Now let's not get crazy."

"I like turnips," said Lendyl. "An honorable vegetable."

Stenan snorted. "Honorable? They're a root. How in the hell is a root honorable?"

Lendyl frowned. "Turnips will continue to grow in the frozen ground. They are blessed by the Mother to feed us in the darkest of times."

Stenan laughed out loud and Henrik chuckled in spite of Fratz's warning glare.

"It makes sense to me," said Kanto quietly. "Not many things can grow in the winter."

Wren had thought the young soldier had a basic understanding of Celtist culture and was pleased to hear him jump to Celtist defense in spite of his fellow soldiers' clear bias."You are familiar with Celtism," he said in his simple way.

Kanto looked to the warrior and nodded. "Yes, my Ma hailed from a southern septad." The young soldier normally kept that knowledge to himself, knowing it could be a point of ridicule in the army. However, as he heard his fellow soldiers take pot shots at the warriors through the last couple days, his anger grew and his resolve firmed. He joined the army to help change things, to help change the negative opinions and misconceptions of the Celtists that were prevalent in the nation. His father always told him there would be a time to speak up, and he knew that time had come. After his announcement he looked to the troops, his friends, and silently dared them to make fun.

Wren looked to Fratz, who seemed just as surprised as the rest of them. It was clear the leader had no idea, and Wren carefully searched the big man's expression to judge the reaction. He was surprised, but not angry or disgusted. Fratz rose a notch in Wren's estimation.

"No kidding?" asked Lendyl. "Where?"

Takar reached over and cuffed Lendyl upside the back of his head. "Do not be rude," he warned, knowing that once Lendyl began to pry, he just might not stop.

"It's okay," Kanto was quick to say. "It was the McIntyre septad in the southwest. An ocean people."

Stenan had liked Kanto, he really had. The boy was always calm and easy to get along with, and they'd been bunkmates for a year and a half without problems. He never once pegged the kid as a Celtie. "You hide it well," he couldn't help but blurt out in his surprise.

Kanto looked across the fire at his friend, and it was hard for Tenet to determine which burned brighter, the flames from the fire or the heat in Kanto's eyes. "I hid nothing. Yer never took no time ter ask. It didn't matter a lick five minutes ago!"

When Kanto was angry, his coastal accent grew much thicker, and it surprised Stenan that he'd never noticed it before. Of course, he also never saw Kanto get angry. "I didn't mean anything by it," Stenan mumbled, unsure of what to make of the revelation. "I was just saying..."

"Well I, for one, am shocked as hell," said Henrik, tossing his bone into the forest behind them. "This whole time we got ourselves a Celtie."

All three warriors tensed at the term. "Henrik," Fratz said very quietly in a tone no one mistook for calm.

Henrik rolled his eyes. "Everyone's so damn sensitive these days." Fratz was glaring at him, though, and he knew he was expected to apologize. "Oh for god's sake, calm down. I didn't mean anything by it." He pointed to Takar. "Didn't I give you salve for your horse's flank?"

Takar felt his cheeks burn. He already felt shame at having to be beholden to a soldier, and now the young whelp was calling him on it in front of the group. It was a humiliation he had a hard time bearing.

Fortunately Wren jumped in, attempting to soothe the tensions. "Perhaps young Henrik is unaware of how much offense he is inflicting."

Henrik threw his hands in the air. "It's just a word! Are you really telling me that the mighty, famed Celtists warriors can't handle hearing one little word?" He shook his head.

Scarab looked around the group. All the men were as taut as a bowstring waiting to snap. She had no doubt that Henrik knew exactly what he was doing when he called them "Celties". The look on his face clearly said he intentionally picked that fight. But, she had to admit, it was a fight that needed picking. Everyone had been tip-toeing around it for days and it was time to get everything out in the open. She stood up and faced the group. "He's got a point."

"Scarab," Tenet hissed. He saw the look of betrayal on Wren's face and pulled on Scarab's sleeve to get her to sit down. "What are you doing?"

Scarab ignored Tenet and turned to Wren. "In just a few days, we will be at an army base where you will be viewed as a barbarian. A savage. A 'Celtie'. If you are going to continue with us, then you will have to swallow your anger and live with it." Scarab didn't like the look in Mr. McKay's eye and wished she didn't have to push him. She respected him above all others in the septad and his opinion of her actually mattered to Scarab. However, her words were the truth, and she hoped that once he meditated, he would accept them. "Believe me when I say I know a thing or two about getting along where you aren't wanted."

Before Wren could form a response, Scarab turned back to the soldiers. "Now for you. These men have ridden with you for long enough to demonstrate their skills. They deserve your respect, even if they aren't going to get it from anyone else." She pointed her finger at Henrik. "You owe my brothers an apology."

Henrik rolled his eyes. Fratz sighed and scooted away from Henrik, and Tenet cringed. Henrik saw Mrs. Lorne's nostrils flare a split second before she drew her weapon and aimed it at his head.

"Apologize," she demanded.

Henrik looked to Fratz. Surely the Captain would stand up for him, beat this woman down. But the Captain just sat there shaking his head, and Henrik knew he was on his own. He looked back to Mrs. Lorne. "B-but you said I was right," he stammered.

Scarab nodded. "Yep. Now, apologize."

Henrik's cheeks burned. He wondered if Mrs. Lorne would actually shoot him. Fratz had warned them all over and over while they searched for the Lornes not to get her angry, and now that he had, the warnings suddenly made sense. He hadn't been a soldier for very long, but he had learned what that look meant in a man's eyes. Apparently, it meant the same in a woman's eye, too. She would shoot him. She would really shoot him for a stupid little word because it hurt her brothers in arms. Though he didn't really understand, he had to respect that. He swallowed hard and looked to Wren. "I'm sorry."

Wren was just happy that Mrs. Lorne was finally behaving how she should. She dressed the boy down like she normally would, and the familiar interaction was a sign from the Mother Herself that even in chaos, he could find a grounding constant. He would offer up thanks before sleeping that night! "I will accept the apology for the benefit of the group."

Scarab nodded firmly and put the gun back in the holster on her hip. She sat back and gave Fratz a look, her eyes twinkling but her face hard. "I like the heft of this weapon, Fratz."

Fratz knew the change in subject was intentional and he was glad. Things could have gone so much differently. He planned on taking Henrik and Stenan aside once the group broke for sleep and giving them his own form of a dressing down. But, for the moment, the crisis had passed. "If'na likin' that, ya got'na see the bigger version at the base."

Tenet kept his sigh of relief to himself, but he snaked his hand down Scarab's leg to grasp the hand she held loosely on her knee. She let him entwine his fingers with hers while the rest of the group discussed weaponry, a safe subject for all involved. Her way of calming a potential explosion amused him in spite of their situation and he listened to her discuss the variety of new weapons and ammunition in a sleepy haze.

Fratz noticed Tenet start to doze and clapped his hands. "Now, we sleep." He ordered his men to their tents, telling Stenan and Henrik they'd have special orders come morning, then watched as Wren did the same for his two warriors. "Mr. McKay, a word if'na don't mind," Fratz said as soon as the various subordinates and the Lornes were gone.

"I would appreciate the same, Captain."

"Fratz," he said quickly. "If'na don't mind, jus' be callin' me Fratz."

Wren nodded. "And you must address me as Wren."

Fratz was relieved. He worried that there would be an animosity between them again, in spite of Wren's public acceptance of apology. Over the last couple days, he got the feeling that the stoic warrior was slowly learning to trust him, and he knew how badly both of them would need that trust if they were to really help Scarab and Tenet. He motioned to the empty seat next to him, and the warrior easily rose from his place across the fire and joined him where they could talk.

"I'll say apologies again on behalf a my men," Fratz began.

"No need," Wren said firmly. "The apology from the offender was accepted."

Fratz nodded. "Ah, but words cut deep. Sometimes it be takin' more ta heal the cut."

Wren cocked his head and studied the large soldier. "Mrs. Lorne was correct. We must strive to accept the attitude if it will get the baby back."

Fratz sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, and gave a little laugh at the memory of Scarab pointing the gun at Henrik. "She's still got'na big temper, eh? Thought I'dna have ta be lookin' for a new soldier t'morrow."

Wren could not help his own smile. "My men, they fear Mrs. Lorne as well," he admitted, keeping his voice low so he would not embarrass Takar and Lendyl.

Fratz quirked an eyebrow. "An' you?"

Wren didn't hesitate to nod. "More than my own wife."

Fratz threw his head back and laughed, and Wren joined in. "Aye, we be tough men scared of a little desert bug!"

It was not the first time Wren heard Fratz use the term for Mrs. Lorne. "Why do you call her this?"

"That's what a 'scarab' be. A bug." Fratz wiggled his fingers in front of him. "They scurry up'na desert and hide under the rocks."

Wren bristled at Fratz's description. "I do not think you should say such things about Mrs. Lorne," he said sternly.

Fratz waved a hand. "I did'na mean no offense. Truth told, I got me a soft spot for the shrew." He assessed the warrior for a second before answering. "I don't be supposin' you know much about the Lornes."

Wren knew he shouldn't pry. He really, really should not. He should dismiss himself and go have his nightly meditation session before turning in. It was a long journey that was far from over and he knew he would have to only be stronger and stronger to make it through. And yet, he could not. His curiosity was so great that he simply could not stand up and walk away as he should. "No," he admitted. "I know very little of the Lornes."

Fratz sighed. "Well I don't know how much I should be tellin' ya, if'na haven't learned yet. It's not my own tales ta tell."

Wren felt the disappointment. Perhaps his wife's love of gossip was rubbing off on him, he thought idly as he found himself needling for more information. "I know nothing of the Southlands but myths. If the Lorne baby is to be rescued, then perhaps I should know more."

Fratz kept his smile to himself. The warrior may be a hard force to be reckoned with, but he was clearly fishing for juicy details. Still, the man made a good point. "In the Southlands, Scarab was what they call a bounty hunter. Do ya know the term?" Wren shook his head. Though Fratz didn't understand Southland culture very much himself, he did know the basics, enough to explain Scarab to Wren a little better.

"Down there, they migrate. Follow the seasons. Southland in the Winter, New Canada in the Summer."

Wren tilted his head. "The people do this?" Fratz nodded. "Like herds of deer?" Fratz nodded again and Wren frowned. "This makes no sense."

Fratz shrugged. "The weather, it be fierce. And movin' around is law." Wren had a hard time wrapping his mind around it. He'd have to meditate later, as Fratz kept talking, leaving no time for consideration between thoughts. "Some folks, they don't like ta be told ta go here an' there, an' they stay back. A bounty hunter, it be their job ta round up the folks an' bring 'em ta jail."

"A prison? For simply staying in their homes?"

"Yep, and tough ones if'na stories down border-way are ta be believed." Fratz saw the deep confusion in the warrior's face and knew it would be difficult for the man to understand. A Celtist warrior spent his entire life time protecting their homeland. He wasn't surprised the warrior couldn't fathom the way of living that was so opposite of his own.

"And Mrs. Lorne, she was one of these jailers?"

Fratz shook his head. "She was the hunter. Hunters don't do the jailin'. That's up ta the govers ta make the call. She jus' got paid ta bring 'em in."

Wren didn't know how he felt about that. She was one of the people who punished those who simply wanted to keep their lands, and yet he'd never seen anything but fierce loyalty from her. "I do not understand," he admitted, hoping Fratz could explain further and make some sense out of it all.

"I don't know the whole truth of it myself," Fratz admitted. "But she did'na have no friends in either country, theirs or up'na here. She be Celtist born herself, Wren," he said quietly.

Wren wasn't surprised. Though Mirvena never actually came out and said it, she had alluded to the fact more than once when she would urge Wren to accept Mrs. Lorne's warrior tendencies with an open mind. She knew Celtist ways. She knew exactly how to address the other warriors on a level they would understand. Fratz only confirmed what he always suspected. "Then how did she end up in Southland?" He closed his mouth firmly after blurting his question out and determined that he would not pry any more.

Fratz shrugged. "That, I don't know. But she did, and it could'na been easy if'na she end up bein' a bounty hunter." Fratz could see that Wren wanted to ask a million questions, but his warrior's training kept him silent. Fratz would have laughed if he didn't know it would offend Wren. "The weather outside Borderlands, it be harsh," he continued, explaining what Wren wanted to know without making him ask. "In Southland, it gets ta bein' real hot in the Summer, too hot ta live in. And New Canada be a frozen up wasteland in'na Winter."

Wren frowned. "We have those seasons as well."

"Ya," agreed Fratz. "But if'na take the worst Winter ya ever known, and make it ten times as bad, ya start ta get'na idea of Winter in New Canada. And the same bein' for Summer, only swapped."

"That's why they migrate," Wren said, catching on. Though getting information from the big soldier was a roundabout experience, the puzzle was finally starting to come together.

"And it be pure danger ta stay."

"So Mrs. Lorne was saving people?"

Fratz shrugged. "If'na wanna be lookin' at it like that."

"But she left and came back here." He frowned. "Why?"

"Ta keep Tenet safe from his Da."

Wren's eyes went wide. "The very bad man," he said quietly, remembering Tenet's panicked words in Hans' store before they left.

"Ya," Fratz said in almost a whisper.

It was almost incomprehensible, and Wren sat for long moments staring into the fire, struggling once again to make sense of it. Tenet's own father was the "very bad man". Wren could not imagine a deeper betrayal. He got angry at Beddick, surely. But he could not think of any possible situation that would turn him against his son. "His father must be a very bad man, indeed," he mused mostly to himself.

"He be that an' more," Fratz agreed. "He be the big boss man down ta Southlands."

Wren turned back to Fratz, his eyes wide. "Big boss man?"

"Ya, like the president of the govers."

Wren felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea they would be up against the government itself. At first, he didn't know how to respond. As the seconds stretched, his trepidation at their nearly insurmountable odds changed to a simmering anger. "Why could they not have just left the Lornes alone? They did not want them. We took them. They are our people now. Why wait all this time and snatch them away?"

Fratz shook his head. "If'na want an answer fer that, ya gotta look somewhere else. Dammed if'na can tell ya that myself." The warrior looked shaken, and Fratz quickly wondered if he had made a mistake. "Yer not thinkin' on leavin' now ya know what ya be facin', are ya?"

A muscle in Wren's jaw twitched and he turned angry eyes on the soldier. "I do not abandon my brothers or sisters. A Celtist warrior is not like those Southland scum!"

Fratz sighed in relief. "And a Borderlander soldier ain't, neither!" Fratz stuck his hand out to shake, to solidify their common bond. After a brief moment, Wren grasped Fratz's forearm and gave it a firm pump as he would any other Celtist warrior. They were brothers in arms, if nothing else.

"I thank ya for the trust in me," Fratz said quietly, truly meaning the words.

Wren nodded. "And the same in return." He stood quickly and gave Fratz a bow. "I must meditate on all I've learned." He turned to head toward the clearing where his men had bedded down for the night, then paused. "Thank you for trusting me with the story of the Lornes. I will guard it well."

Fratz smiled to himself. It had been another long, hard day, but a good one. Much was accomplished on all fronts, and for the first time since starting out on this difficult journey, he truly felt as if he was starting to take control. His men hunted beside the warriors. The Lornes had their fight and were back to being predictable in their behaviors. And he was slowly earning the trust of the Celtist warriors. It was a long day, but a good one, and he truly regretted that he wouldn't be in charge much longer. He sighed heavily and hoisted his large, aching body off the log, wincing when his back popped loudly. Perhaps he wouldn't mind turning over the reins of control after all. He was getting much too old for these expeditions. He chuckled at his own silliness as he stretched out and let sleep finally claim him.

Chapter 12

Major Krupkie started out the window watching her troops perform their morning drills with real feeling for the first time in years. She had specifically instructed the sergeants who ran the drills to make them vicious, make them early, make them long and brutal. They had to prepare for war and she simply forbid her troops from being ill-prepared. It was a cold morning, and the soldiers' breaths hung in front of them in poofs of steam as they panted through their exercises. Krupkie was pleased at how well they were doing, but knew it might not be enough. They hadn't truly warred with anyone but gangs in so long she wondered if the army even remembered how.

A knock at the door took Krupkie's attention from the window. Her secretary poked his head in and told her that Captain Gundersson and his troops approached the gates.

Relief washed over Major Krupkie. It had been days since any of her communiques had been answered and she feared the worst. "Excellent! Show them in."

The man looked uncomfortable. "Ma'am?"

"What is it?"

"They've got..." he swallowed hard. "It looks like they've got Celties with them."

Major Krupkie's eyes widened just a fraction before she dismissed the man to do as she asked. So that was how Tenet made it. She wondered idly why Mirvena hadn't mentioned that there were Celtist warriors on the way. Perhaps the wily old priestess knew the uproar it would cause in a military base. Krupkie had to smile at that, even though it meant more problems than they really needed at the moment.

She turned and called for an officer from the guest barracks. When he arrived, she gave him directions to prepare rooms for their guests. She had no idea how many would be in their party, so simply instructed to have the entire Block 5 building prepared and hoped that would give them enough room. She dismissed the officer then began to pace while she waited for her secretary to bring the people to her.

Major Krupkie didn't have to wait long. She heard Captain Gundersson stomping down the hallway only a few minutes later, barking orders to his men as he neared. One of the best things she had done in her leadership role on the base was to promote Fratz against the wishes of the board that normally made the final decisions in such matters. They did not like how unrefined the large man was, but Major Krupkie knew it was his brashness that would actually endear him to the troops and make them fight harder for their Captain.

The door opened and Fratz wasted no time. "Not a bad jaunt, eh Major?"

Krupkie schooled her features. "An air transport would have been faster," Gundersson.

Fratz shook his head and smiled. "An' where would'na be landin' it in'na hills? Horses win again."

Major Krupkie rose and held her hand out to Tenet. The man looked strung out. She couldn't imagine what he was feeling, but the haunted look around the eyes was unmistakable. "Mr. Lorne. I had wished when we met again it would be under different circumstances."

"Major Krupkie," Tenet said, shaking her hand warmly. "I thank you for your help."

The Major pulled her hand away and shook her head. "Your gratitude is premature." When Scarab's eyes flashed, Major Krupkie held her hand up. "Please, let's sit and discuss the situation."

Tenet knew if he looked at Scarab, there would be an "I told you so" in her eyes. So he simply didn't look. They had to hear Krupkie out. If nothing else, they could beg passage through the guarded borders. They were still better off in Carlton than they would have been trying to cross in the east. He sat in one of the offered seats and tried to concentrate on Krupkie, not the waves of anger he could feel radiate off his wife.

Major Krupkie did not even look at the Celtist warriors who stood at the ready, their backs against the wall of the room. She decided the best welcome they could receive would be the one she would have given any other soldier she had not directly summoned. She would let her people see her treat the warriors exactly as she treated her own people, and she sincerely hoped that would guide their own actions to do the same.

"I believe you need to be caught up on the situation to appreciate where I stand," Major Krupkie said to the Lornes. "What we believed was a sincere desire for open trade pacts was no more than a ruse to allow your father access into the country. You have our government's deepest regrets on that."

Scarab snorted. "Yeah. I'm sure."

Krupkie looked Scarab in the eye. The woman's bitterness was back, if it had ever really gone at all in the last five years. It wasn't completely without merit, either. The big wigs in government didn't give a damn that one little girl was taken. However, Krupkie did. "You have _my_ deepest regrets," she amended. After a tense second, she saw Scarab nod slightly before she looked away.

Tenet cleared his throat. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he began, but Krupkie held up her hand.

"We must move on from that point. No matter the fault, the situation is what's important now." Krupkie sat back and folded her hands on her desk. "And a dire situation it is. We're on the brink of war, Mr. Lorne."

Tenet nodded. "Fratz said."

"Good. Then you can appreciate how carefully I must tread."

"I _am_ getting my daughter back," Scarab said firmly.

Krupkie saw the warriors nod their support. They were an intimidating lot, she'd give them that much. "And I'm not saying you can't. But I also can't let you run across the border at the moment."

Tenet sat forward, his heart rate increasing. "I have to get Violet..."

Krupkie held her hand up. "Right now we are at a standstill. We have closed the borders and they have advanced their troops to the edge of their dead lands." She sighed and shook her head, trying to think of the best way to get them to understand. "Any forward action on our part will be the excuse they're waiting for to trigger an all-out assault."

"Then let it be," Scarab said through clenched teeth.

Krupkie snorted out a humorless laugh. "Easy for you to say. You have one child in this fight and look how desperate you are to keep her safe. I've got an entire nation looking for me to carry them through!"

"I did'na be bringin' them all this way for ya ta turn yer backs on 'em, Major," Fratz said quietly.

Krupkie scoffed. "And I didn't say I was, Gundersson. I'm just saying we can't go off half-cocked and fueled on emotions." She thumped her finger into the desk. "Right this minute I can feel them laughing at us from across the border. I can see your father's sniveling face twisted in glee and it turns my stomach. If your daughter, one of our very own, wasn't involved, my recommendation to President Henders would be to say screw them all and lock our borders forever." She turned to point a finger at Scarab. "But, I meant every word I said when I accepted you into this country and promised you protection. Don't for a moment think I plan on going back on those words now! You've been a good citizen for our community. You've held up your end of the bargain, and I'll be dammed if I don't hold up mine."

Scarab knew the woman meant what she said. One look in her eyes said the Major was telling the truth. She honestly did want to see Violet safely home, and while it raised Krupkie up a notch in Scarab's eyes, Scarab knew when push came to shove, it might not make one bit of difference. The personal feelings of one army Major paled in comparison to the drive of the government. "And what about the government? I take it they don't share your opinion."

Krupkie shrugged a shoulder and sat back. "They're closer to my opinion than you might think, actually." She waved a hand. "Different reasons, but it's all semantics. In the end, we just want to be left alone. We don't need Southland or New Canada, they need us, and it's high time they acknowledge that."

Tenet shook his head. "They won't."

"They will eventually."

Tenet quirked an eyebrow. "You sound...confident." Scarab snorted behind him. "Confident" was putting it nicely.

"I do," Krupkie freely admitted, "because I am. I have given your yearly reports to Captain Gundersson here a lot of weight. Your information has been invaluable and you've been correct at every turn." Krupkie tented her fingers on the desk in front of her and leaned forward. "Now, where your daughter is concerned, what better tool could there be in his plan? Think, Mr. Lorne. Not with the heart of a father, but the mind of a soldier from Southland."

Tenet didn't miss Fratz's surprised look. "I was no soldier," Tenet said firmly.

Krupkie laughed. "All but. Don't forget I know all about your training, young man. Have you been here too long to see the game they're playing?"

Tenet thought he knew what his father was after. It's why he didn't fear for Violet's physical safety. She was extremely valuable to the old man's bank account. Was there more to it? Krupkie seemed sure. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Maybe he had spent too much time in his new life to really remember the awful levels of his old. "What are you getting at?"

Krupkie sighed and shook her head. "I thought more of you than this, Mr. Lorne."

"They're going to use her to start the war," Scarab said flatly.

Tenet's eyes went wide and he turned to Scarab. "What do you mean?"

"She means that your father will sell the girl's story to get sympathy for a war his people won't want," Krupkie explained, feeling another stab of pain for the look on the look on Tenet's face. The poor kid was still so naive on some levels. She suddenly saw a little of what endeared him to his wife. "He'll show her around, let folks know she's your daughter. My informants on the ground down there say people think you died, but in the past year there have been rumors started that you were abducted by a Borderlands outlaw."

Scarab felt her stomach sink. She didn't know why she should feel blindsided by the idea that they'd use her past in such a way. Hadn't they used it against her for her entire life? Yet the years in between of living in the open and welcoming Ogden septad made the new twist hurt worse than it used to. She pressed her lips together as Tenet reached up and took hold of her hand on his shoulder.

"Then I will just have to set them straight on that score, won't I?" Tenet said with a bitterness and rage that disarmed Krupkie. She expected it from the former hunter, but never from the man. Perhaps he was growing up in his new life after all.

"They haven't announced anything yet. In fact, my people have informed me that the government is being very quiet, much quieter than usual. Your father and family are currently shut in one of their farms and refuse to answer the questions of the press. It's getting close to some harvest, and the general assumption is that they will move down to the corn fields after."

Tenet turned to Scarab. "Then Jace was telling the truth about the wheat."

Scarab nodded. "Sounds like."

"My people have guessed that any announcement about your daughter would most likely take place down in the corn sectors. It seems to be a popular place for the elite of Southland. What's your feeling on this?"

Tenet turned around and readily agreed. "That would make sense if he's looking to make a big splash. There will be many end-of-season events, very public." He pressed his lips together for a moment, thinking it over. "Perhaps the annual Harvest Gala, or even the Communal Day of Thanks."

Krupkie nodded. "That confirms what I've been hearing, and it doesn't give us much time."

Tenet let out a sad, lost little laugh. "I don't even know what day it is."

They were tired, even the warriors who still refused to sit. Krupkie knew they'd need rest, no matter what kind of protest they'd make. Fratz would need to be officially debriefed, along with his soldiers. And she had to get ready for the bigger company that would arrive that afternoon, the President himself and his advisory staff. It would be a busy day for Krupkie, indeed. "I believe that is all for now. I had a house prepared for your stay."

Scarab frowned. "We're not staying."

Krupkie held a hand up, ready for the argument. "I have some big meetings today with the very top people in our nation. After that, we'll know more. You all look like something the cat dragged in. You need food and rest, and a bath wouldn't hurt a one of you." She called for her secretary, and instructed him to see the people to their housing while Scarab continued to rage.

Tenet rose and took Scarab's hand firmly. "They're helping us," he said quietly.

Scarab stopped griping, but she pulled her hand from his and marched ahead. "Fine," she tossed over her shoulder at Krupkie. "One day. That's all. If you don't have a plan for me by tomorrow, I'm going and your entire army won't hold me back!"

Krupkie knew she meant it. She thought the woman was tough last time they met. She was nothing compared to the angry mother that stormed out of her office, and that thought intrigued Krupkie. It made her slightly sad for a moment, thinking of her own missed opportunity at motherhood. With a sigh, she pushed those feelings aside yet again and began to debrief Fratz.

Scarab marched through the compound with her eyes blazing. Tenet knew she wanted a fight. She wanted to punch something or someone and he begged the Mother silently to keep the soldiers they passed from so much as casting a funny look at the warriors. It would be just the excuse Scarab would need to go off on someone. Fortunately, they made it to their temporary housing without incident and Tenet was relieved when the door closed behind them in their personal room.

"There," he said. "Now, let it out."

Scarab turned and looked like she was going to hit him for a second before she swore and stomped her foot instead. She kicked a chair over and continued spewing many interesting insults Tenet never heard before while he calmly righted the chair and waited her out. After a few minutes, her voice turned hoarse and he knew she was winding down. "We're sitting here while she's down there! How the hell can you be so calm?" she demanded before she flopped down in a chair, utterly spent.

"Feel better?" Tenet asked quietly.

"No."

"Feel helpless?" She turned angry eyes at him again and he stepped forward and took her hand, completely ignoring the glare. "Do you trust Krupkie?"

Scarab's jaw clenched to hard her teeth hurt. "You know how I feel about the army," she hissed. "Nothing's changed."

Tenet crouched by Scarab's chair and shook his head. "I'm not asking about the army. I'm asking about Krupkie. Do you trust Major Krupkie?"

Scarab didn't want to admit it out loud. "I can't sit here doing nothing."

It was as close to an agreement as he was going to get, and Tenet kissed her knuckles. "We won't. We'll get something to eat. Then we'll take the baths Krupkie was right about us needing. Then we'll sleep. And then we'll plan."

"And what if they say no, huh? What if the government says 'screw it all and shut it down'?" Scarab asked with panic in her eyes.

Tenet pulled her into his arms. "It's different now, Scarab. Haven't you learned it's not the same as when you were a kid?"

Scarab closed her eyes against her old pains, then shook her head. "It's not about that, Tenet. They can't risk their whole population because of one little kid." She looked up. "You always want to think people will do the right thing. Sometimes they can't. Sometimes it's worse for everyone if you try to do the right thing for one person. What if they say no?"

"Then we're on our own again," he said quickly. "Worst case, we're back to square one, only now I have you with me and we're a hell of a lot closer. Right?"

Scarab swallowed hard and laid her head on Tenet's shoulder. "I'll fight my way out if I have to."

"And I'll be right there with you," he promised, knowing she needed to hear it, knowing she needed reassurance, and knowing he needed to hear the words out loud as well. "I made the mistake of trusting one government blindly. Contrary to popular belief, I do learn my lessons," he added wryly.

"I didn't mean..."

"Yes, you did. You're always afraid when I stick up for the army or put my trust in the government." He pulled away to look her in the eyes. "But for almost six years now, I put my trust in one person first and foremost. Don't think that will ever change."

The words spoken so sincerely calmed old fears in Scarab, ones she hadn't felt in years. He was once blindly devoted to his government, so much so that he couldn't see the danger he was in. When he had so quickly agreed to let Fratz bring them to Carlton, she was afraid he was doing the same thing, letting himself fall into that old pattern. Scarab really had needed to hear him say it out loud. She nodded firmly. "Okay."

"I love you," Tenet said quietly. "Always." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She leaned into him, and that was her way of saying it back. "Now," he said, standing up and tugging her hand. "Let's get that shower. You reek."

Scarab rolled her eyes at him, but stood to follow.

"Seriously," he said. "Did you wallow in pig shit?"

The flash of humor in his eyes was all she needed. She threw her arms around him and squeezed, too overcome to say anything. He was still her Tenet. He could still handle whatever came their way. He was angry, but it wasn't anything that was going to ruin him. He was trusting, but no longer blindly. And he was joking his way through a bad situation. "You don't smell like roses, either," she said into his chest, hoping he knew everything she could never say out loud.

Tenet closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the moment with his wife. "Let's go," he said after he finally released her. "We'll round up the warriors on the way. I'm sure they don't smell any better."

Wren and his men stood looking at the long line of shower heads. They had never seen anything like it and even though Tenet assured them it was a safe way to bathe, they were skeptical. Eventually Tenet gave up trying to explain with words and stepped under one of the heads, figuring showing them would be the better way to go. He turned on the tap and almost melted with joy under the steaming hot water. "I'd forgotten how great a hot shower is!" he said, grinning to the confused warriors. "Come on. You'll like it." He turned and started lathering the soap, leaving it up to the warriors to decide if they were going to use the showers or not.

Wren would not let Tenet show him up in front of his men. He strode forward and grabbed the handle under an empty shower head. He said a quick prayer to the Mother, then turned the knob as Tenet had, and a rush of hot water shot out and over his body. He jumped in shock, then settled in to the unfamiliar feeling. "It is like warm rain," he told his men. He took the bar of smelly soap Tenet had offered and began to lather. When he noticed Takar and Lendyl still standing off to the side, he glared at them. "Wash," he ordered.

Once the showers were done, the next issue arose. Major Krupkie wanted the warriors to blend in as much as possible. Instead of their highly decorated leathers, she wanted them to wear a version of the army uniforms. Tenet put one on, but didn't argue long the three stubborn warriors. "I'm sure she just wanted you to be comfortable," he said to Wren. Wren grunted and pulled on his own clothing.

"I would sooner wear my mother's kapka!" Lendyl said, speaking of the fur dresses the women in Ogden preferred.

Takar snorted. "That explains a lot about you."

Wren pressed his lips together tightly to keep from laughing, but Tenet had no such qualms and his laugh echoed out into the hallway as he opened the door. "You walked right into that one, Lendyl."

Lendyl glared as he pulled on his soft leather boot, hopping forward to keep up with the group as they left the shower room.

Wren thumped Tenet on the shoulder. "The standing bath was...different. You have my thanks for your instructions."

"I'm glad you liked it," said Tenet, even though he knew very well the warrior was just trying to be polite. "Perhaps when we get home we can see if we can plumb in a similar system in our homes." He turned and walked away, biting his lip at the horrified look that crossed Wren's face.

Scarab was waiting at the end of the hall. She had chosen to remain in her leathers as well, but her hair was wet and her skin was rubbed pink. Tenet felt a stirring for his wife and instantly felt guilty, reality once again crashing down on him. How could he joke and laugh and want when his baby was gone? What kind of man was he becoming?

Scarab watched his face go from amused to horrified. "Tenet?"

Tenet ignored her worried look, knowing he couldn't explain. "Let's eat."

She walked by his side to the dining room and they silently began to eat. Krupkie had spared no expense and the table was piled high with meats and vegetables and even fresh bread. The warrior, unused to eating actual bread, filled up on meat and root vegetables while Tenet chose the fresh vegetables that he hadn't been able to enjoy all winter.

"How do they get such foods as these this time of year?" Lendyl asked, pointing to the spread.

Tenet swallowed a mouthful of fresh peas. "Trade with Southland, probably."

Lendyl tipped his head in thought. "But that soldier woman said they are at war."

Tenet shrugged. "A war takes a long time to really get going," he explained.

Lendyl was confused. "When we war, everything from the enemy is purged."

"Our wars are between our people," Wren explained. "Our wars are between septads, not nations. It is different when nations war."

It didn't make sense to Lendyl, and he went to push away the offending foods. "I will not eat of the labors of my enemy," he said firmly.

Takar reached over and pulled the boy's plate to himself. "Then I will."

Wren sighed. "Takar," he said in a warning tone.

Takar grinned and slid the plate back to Lendyl. "Eat it, whelp. You'll be on the warpath soon enough and your skinny little arms need to be able to pull the bowstring like a man." Lendyl shot Takar a glare, but wisely said nothing.

"Eat," Wren said, pointing to the plate with his fork. "Your plate was lean all winter. It matters not who grew the food. You will use their own power against them."

It was an explanation Lendyl decided he could accept, and began to eat with relish.

"Do you really get rid of all your enemy's things when you battle?" Tenet asked.

Wren nodded. "Yes. If a war is declared, we sever all ties."

In the time they'd been in Ogden, Tenet hadn't heard of any wars. "It's a good thing you don't go to war often."

Wren tilted his head. "There is good reason for the peace you know." He thumped his chest proudly, as did Takar. "My enemies laid down in front of my bow until they were all dead."

Tenet looked to Scarab who nodded. "Celtists have many civil wars," she confirmed.

"Civil wars? You mean you fight among yourselves?" It was a ghastly thought to Tenet. "Why?"

"There are those who find it necessary to take what is not theirs. This will not be allowed."

Tenet shook his head. "I've always thought of Celtists as...well, united with each other."

Takar snorted. "Why would you have such silly thoughts?"

Tenet shrugged. "I...I guess I don't know. I've never been in another septad."

"You do not need to," said Wren firmly. "You are a proud member of Ogden. You have no need to look for anything elsewhere."

Young Lendyl was enjoying the conversation and waited for an opportunity to once again demonstrate his knowledge. When Tenet asked what started the warring, Lendyl jumped in. "Food and women. If there are not enough of either, a septad will send its warriors raiding."

"And they'll raid another septad?" Tenet shook his head. "Why not raid the army they already hate?"

Lendyl's eyes went wide. "And take the cursed food from the enemy? No warrior would disgrace their septad in such a manner! We are sworn to protect our people, not expose them to the evils of our enemies!"

Wren looked at Lendyl and was very proud. The boy spoke the truth from the heart and his loyalty to Ogden resonated in every word. He was becoming a fine warrior, indeed!

Tenet picked up his fork and ate slowly, thinking about what they had said. It made an odd sort of sense, even though the reasoning behind it was flawed. A peach stolen from the army was the same as a peach grown in a septad's orchard. There was nothing evil about it, only superstition. Still, it seemed of the utmost importance to the warriors, and he made a note to himself to remember it in the future.

They finished their meal and went to their rooms. While the warriors refused to wear the army clothing, they did agree to sleep in the bunks provided when Mrs. Lorne assured them it would make everything easier for all parties. She left them arguing about who would sleep where and made her own way to her room, where she found Tenet already in bed, staring up at the ceiling. She got undressed and then lay down next to him, snuggling into his chest when he opened his arm for her.

"Did your septad war?"

Scarab nodded. "Constantly."

Tenet sighed. "I thought we were with a peaceful people."

Scarab couldn't help but laugh. "Tenet, no one is peaceful. There will always be some asshole who wants what the other guy has and would much prefer to take it instead of working for it themselves."

Tenet rubbed her arm idly. "Southlanders don't war," he said.

"Oh yes they do. They just fight dirty."

Tenet tilted his head. "What do you mean by that?"

Scarab pushed up on an elbow to look at him. "I mean they fight with money, lies, secrets, and cover-ups. Don't tell me you can't see how the way they treat people is anything but a war. It's just a war of money and words, not guns and bows."

Tenet quirked an eyebrow. "I guess I never thought about it like that."

"And as far as civil wars go, your people pick themselves apart all the time. Don't tell me there isn't a class war that's got millions of victims on a daily basis."

Tenet sighed heavily. "They aren't my people."

"They used to be."

"Yes," he said, flipping over and propping up on his elbow to look in his wife's eyes. "And now my people are the guns and bows kind."

"And are you having a hard time accepting that? Is that what this is about?"

Tenet shook his head. "No. I'm _not_ having a hard time accepting that. _That's_ what this is about."

Scarab gave him a soft look. So he was just as uncomfortable with facing the past as she was. She reached out and traced a finger down his cheek. "I'm glad you prefer guns and bows now."

He gave a small laugh and shook his head. "I'm not saying I prefer guns and bows. I prefer no fighting at all." He took a deep breath and let it out. "But I guess if I have to pick, it's out in the open with the guns and bows you can see, not sneaky, back stabbing shit my father pulls."

Scarab put her palm on Tenet's face and he was surprised to find she was shaking. "What are they doing to her?" she asked, finally voicing the question she'd been terrified thinking about for days.

Tenet drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It would be a guess," he said, knowing she would not like what she heard.

"Then guess."

After another moment of silence, Tenet gave a small nod, remembering something she told him a long time ago. Knowing was far better than letting your mind make up something worse. "My guess would be that first my father would pass off Violet's care to someone else."

Scarab's lips pressed together tightly. Bradwin was an awful man, but at least he was a known entity. At least she could prepare to see the changes he would have made. "To who?"

"Most likely my mother, if her health is well." Scarab's eyes narrowed more and Tenet had to laugh. "Hey, I turned out just fine."

Scarab scoffed. "No thanks to them!"

"Shh," Tenet said, pulling Scarab back to the bed. "You asked. Do you want to listen to the answer?" Scarab closed her mouth and stared at her husband waiting for him to continue. "They'd probably next change her appearance. Definitely new clothes. Probably cut her hair and take off her eyebrows." Scarab's nostrils flared. "It's all temporary. It'll all grow back," he said soothingly, pulling Scarab's hand into his own and gently stroking the back with his thumb. "It's all for looks, Scarab. And those we can fix."

They were looks. Hair grew back. Eyebrows would, too, even though she must look absolutely ridiculous. Poor Violet. "I hope she kicked the stylist and bit the eyebrow plucker!"

Tenet laughed and pulled Scarab to him. The picture of Violet giving them what for was so clear in his mind he couldn't believe it played out any other way. "Oh, I'm sure she did."

"Good."

"Yes," he agreed.

"Then what?"

Tenet swallowed. "Then I'm sure she'll be introduced to tutors who will, uh, train her."

"Tame her, you mean," Scarab said flatly.

"Yes."

Hot tears of anger burned in Scarab's eyes. "I hate them," she whispered hoarsely.

"I hate them, too." He could feel his wife's pain, but he also knew his daughter. Violet wouldn't be sucked in by them. She wouldn't. She was far too much like her mother for that. She would pretend to listen and the whole time know she was just playing a game for the moment. He knew his daughter well enough to believe that. He had to. He had to believe she wouldn't let them ruin her.

"And then what?" Scarab asked, needing to know it all.

And then they'd parade Violet in front of the press. And then his father would coo and awe over her and seek out boys to begin their championships. And then she'd be indoctrinated into their state religion. And then one by one, every part of Violet would begin to disappear. He couldn't say that. He couldn't for one second believe that he and Scarab would let it get that far. "And then we'll get her and bring her home," he said firmly.

Scarab was quiet for so long that Tenet thought she had fallen asleep. "I'll kill him, you know," she said eventually in the icy tone of voice that used to scare Tenet to his core. "I'll kill him and show no mercy. If I can make him suffer, I will."

Scarab was warning Tenet. He knew it was her way to let him step in before she did something Tenet couldn't live with. "You gave Jace mercy."

Scarab pushed up on her elbow again to look Tenet in the eye. "Jace was what he was. He never pretended any different, never put on airs."

"And that makes him better than my father?" Tenet asked, incredulously.

"Yes, it does."

Tenet couldn't believe what he was hearing. "He was my father's lackey!"

"He took a job. Nothing more."

Tenet scoffed bitterly and sat up. "Yeah. It really looked like you were just a job to him when I rode in!"

Scarab opened her mouth then closed it again as the meaning behind Tenet's words registered. "Do you think I spared him because I felt something for him?" When Tenet didn't answer, Scarab felt angry and amused all at once. "You must not think very much of me, then."

"I think everything of you. If I didn't, I don't think I'd care about it so much," he admitted.

Scarab pulled his face around and held him firmly by the jaw. "And if I cared about him like that and he betrayed me, don't you think I would have torn him limb from limb?" She gave a little laugh. "Shit, Tenet. If you ever do anything to hurt me that deep, do you really think I'd show you one damn bit of mercy?"

"No," Tenet said, accepting her words and knowing the truth behind them. "You'd probably cut my balls off and feed them to me for dinner."

Scarab flashed a quick smile and eased her grip on Tenet's jaw. "I see you've put some thought into it."

"Of course I have. I've given careful consideration to every potential torture you could inflict."

Scarab couldn't keep the pride out of her eyes. She took his hand and laced her fingers with his. "I never felt anything like that for Jace," she said with quiet determination. "I need you to believe that."

"Then why? I still don't understand why you gave him mercy." Tenet shook his head. "I wouldn't have stopped you, you know."

Scarab nodded. "I do know. You wanted to see him tortured. But I made you a promise a long time ago that I'd be damned if I'd let you know what it's like to live with something like that."

Tenet's eyes burned with that anger that scared Scarab. "He took my daughter. I could have easily lived with it."

Scarab sighed heavily. "Maybe I don't want to know that Tenet."

Tenet assessed his wife. After all their years together, she was still trying to shield him from the world. It was absurd, especially given their current situation. "You may have to by the time this is all over."

Scarab knew that. It's why she warned him about his father. She meant every word. If she got to Bradwin first, she would not stop until the rage in her died. She knew herself well enough to realize that would take a very, very long time. "I don't want you to be there to see that."

Tenet felt tired. He felt every second of the days of anger and pain and frustration settle on his shoulders and weigh him down. He let out a deep sigh and pulled Scarab back into bed. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. "I'm glad you don't want that for me," he said softly. And he was, truly. But what twisted his guts into icy knots was the knowledge that for the first time in his life, he wanted that for himself. He craved the satisfaction of making his father pay.

"Tenet," Scarab began, feeling the tension in her husband.

"Shh," he said, unable to continue the conversation. It felt as if he was standing on a razor's edge, and one teeter in either direction was terrifying. He couldn't keep talking or else he might just fall. Or worse, he'd let Scarab know just how wrong she was about him. He wanted to feel his father's throat crushing beneath his hands. He wanted to see the look of panic on the old man's face as he realized the terror of his imminent death. He wanted to take his hands that were so used to healing and drain the life out of another human being. He wanted to. It wasn't just that he'd tolerate it. Or he'd accept it as something that had to be done to keep his family safe. He wanted to. He wanted revenge and the need for it threatened to push him off the razor.

He tightened his hold on his wife and hoped that when it was all done, she could still love him. She didn't want to see "that Tenet"? She might not have a choice. And that was the scariest thought of all.

Chapter 13

Violet sat at a large table surrounded by the people who called themselves her "new family". The dress her grandmother had made her wear was very stiff and itchy and reminded her of crinkle paper. It crunched when she walked and stabbed her belly when she sat.

"It's a formal dinner," her grandmother had insisted when Violet protested. "Now don't look so upset. It will be your first opportunity to use the wonderful new skills of a young lady that Mr. Canton has been teaching you."

Violet had said nothing at the time because she knew it would do no good. In fact, if she told her grandmother exactly what she was thinking, she would probably end up serving another punishment. She used to think carding wool was bad. Now that she had spent three afternoons kneeling and reciting a list of rules for Mr. Canton over and over until her throat and knees hurt, she would never mind carding wool again. When it was all over, when her Da finally showed up, when Mumma burst in and shot the place sky high like a den of wraiths...

"Are you day dreaming again, young lady?" her grandmother's voice had cut in. "I asked if you were excited to finally show your cousins just how much of a lady you can be?"

Violet had nodded and lied and pretended. They finished their dressing, then the awful lady with the sharp comb had slicked her hair with some kind of glue, from what Violet could tell, and let it dry on her head until her hair was a hard shell, just like her grandmother's. And then they stuffed Violet's feet into shoes with very long toes that made her trip if she tried to clack them on the floor when she walked. And then they led her down one of the long hallways she was not allowed to walk into on her own and sat her in a very high chair at a very high table so she could show off just how good she could pretend.

By the time the first bowl of soup was poured, Violet was already exhausted. Only the thought of another punishment made her pick her spoon up and concentrate on not slurping, like Mr. Canton had taught her. She doubted her grandmother would crack her knuckles with the small stick she always carried when they were at a fancy dinner on front of everyone, but she didn't want to risk it. She ate her soup very slowly, trying desperately not to slurp or cry.

Anka was sitting on one side of her and Auger on the other. Violet watched Anka eat her soup without slurping. She was a year younger and she didn't seem to have any problems doing it and Violet once again felt like punching the snot out of her. That was nothing new. Every time she saw Anka she wanted to punch the snot out of her. All of the adults thought Anka was the best, but Violet knew what a mean little girl she really was. The horrible things she said to Auger made Violet's blood boil.

Because she was trying so very hard to be good, and knew she couldn't do that if she kept looking at one cousin, she turned her attention to the other. Auger wasn't a bad kid, he was just boring. He reminded Violet of a girl in Mrs. Dinty's school named Conna who was two years older than anyone else in the class and dumb as a rock. Auger had that same look in his eyes. He'd walk around and pick his nose all day and drool on the front of his shirt and be happy to have everyone tell him what to do all the time if his mother would let him get away with it. He didn't seem to care one way or the other if he was following the rules or not and Violet knew that if she could get him away from Anka, they might just have some fun together. She could teach him to do something with his hands other than pick his nose.

"Isn't this soup good?" she asked Auger, trying to find anything else to concentrate on other than the itchy dress and the pinchy shoes.

Auger shrugged his shoulder, and her aunt Nada piped up from across the table. "Be a proper young lady like Anka and keep your mouth busy with food," she sniped.

Violet tried hard not to sigh, because her grandmother did not like sighing, and went back to eating her boring soup at the boring table with the awful clothes and mean adults. Her concentration shot, she slurped, and Nada once again made a fuss.

Irmara tried to hold her control. "This is her first formal dining experience," she said with all the patience for Nada she could muster. "I think she's doing well. Don't you, Bradwin?"

Bradwin had been studying his granddaughter from the end of the table. He hadn't seen her all week and the change in her was simply amazing. Though the reports from Bodi indicated that her accent was atrocious and that she still had glaring societal misunderstandings, he was quite pleased with her progress. And now, Irmara was asking for his support. It was a banner day in the Bradwin household! "Why, yes," he said with surprise. "She's coming along nicely."

Nada rolled her eyes. "Please. If my Anka was slurping her soup like a barbarian, you'd have her sent from the room."

Violet's eyes widened and she turned them to her grandmother. Her grandmother was looking bored and angry, so she turned to her grandfather. She hadn't even spoken to him in a week, and she still hated him, but maybe she could make him mad enough to send her from the table. "I guess I'll have to go to my room and think about what I've done," she said as meekly as possible.

Bradwin quirked an amused eyebrow. He couldn't help but like the girl's spark. "I believe we shall overlook the incident," he said. He almost chuckled out loud when he saw Violet's shoulder's slump until Nada continued to whine and moan. He looked to Merle, feeling the long simmering hatred flare. No, he'd get no help from that quarter. Not only did Merle have no desire to try and calm his wife, he knew that the more worked up Nada got, the more pills she would take to calm herself. He watched his son-in-law. The boy gulped his wine with a twisted little smile on his face and almost openly eyed Irmara. Whatever good mood Bradwin had been in evaporated.

"Hush your nattering," he snapped at Nada.

Nada turned her eyes on her father, the fake hurt shining bright. She was a good actress, Bradwin had to admit. "Father! I'm simply thinking of the family. You want her to come out at the Harvest Gala, that's only a few weeks away. Look at her. Can you honestly tell me you believe she is ready?" Her voice squeaked on the last couple words and echoed through the large marble room.

Bradwin bore his daughter's tirade through years of practice. A glance at Irmara told him she was feeling the same and he felt another rare moment of closeness with his wife. Instead of answering Nada, he snapped his fingers for the servants to clear the soup bowls and bring the next course.

Nada turned to Irmara. "Did I tell you how I found Auger yesterday afternoon? Did I?"

"Yes, of course you did," Irmara answered, hoping that would be enough to end the subject. The last thing she wanted was another one of Nada's rambling, overly dramatic tales.

Merle was actually intrigued. He'd heard nothing of it. "You never mentioned to me..." he fished.

Nada turned to him, that annoying look of triumph in her eyes. "I allowed him to have time with her in the gold room. After only one half hour I looked in to see why they were being so very quiet, and do you know what I found?"

Merle answered only because he knew it was expected. "Do tell."

"I found Auger on the floor, on his knees, with her," she pointed a red-tipped nail across the table, "on his back!"

Merle snorted. He just couldn't help it. His wife always got so worked up when children acted like children. "And what was young Miss Violet doing on your back, Auger?" he asked his son.

"She had convinced him to allow her to touch Grandmother's looking glass," Anka said in her snotty voice.

Merle's jaw twitched. "I do not believe I was speaking to you, young lady."

"Merle!" Nada said, outraged that he'd dare speak to their daughter in such a tone.

Irmara's eyebrow went up, just a slight lift that said she was interested to see exactly how this played out. Was Merle finally growing himself a spine?

Though Merle knew he'd pay later, he did not miss the look of interest in Irmara's eyes. He could not please both women, and he had to make a decision. As if there was any real choice to be made, he thought to himself. He'd goad Nada into a good fit that would make her take a pill. "I was speaking to Auger. Do you not agree that it is beyond rude to answer for somebody else? You want Auger to begin championing himself then he must be allowed to speak!" Merle had even raised his voice by the end.

Nada turned her eyes away and snapped her fan open, her cheeks flushed with anger and humiliation. Irmara held her smirk inside and risked a quick look at Merle. His eyes twinkled and she knew how she would spend the rest of her evening. Suddenly feeling happier, she poured herself some wine and determined to enjoy the rest of the surprising meal.

Merle turned back to Auger. "Answer your father when you are asked a question," he demanded. "What were you doing with Miss Violet on your back?"

Auger swallowed his bite. "I was letting her reach the mirror."

"I see," said Merle, surprised to actually get an answer from him. "And why were you helping her do this? You know it is against the rules."

Auger gave a little shrug. "She asked me to."

"You see?" Nada squealed. "You see what a bad influence she is having on my Auger?" She fanned herself faster. "Have you ever heard such a more ridiculous answer..."

"There are far worse things in life than a man who does everything a woman asks of him," Irmara said haughtily, shooting a pointed look at Bradwin.

"I am surprised at your words, wife," said Merle dryly. "You, who want his championships to begin. Why, the very fact that he'd soil his clothing to allow a lady her folly will be very well received by many in society." He tilted his glass at his son. "Good show, chap."

Auger had never had a kind word from his father. Ever. He grinned and went back to eating his dinner while his mother sputtered and snorted.

"She is hardly a lady!"

If Nada flapped her fan any harder, she'd break a wrist, Bradwin thought. He looked to his granddaughter and was surprised to find her eyes down. He expected to see the dark rage that matched her mother's eyes when she was angry. He knew it was a good sign for them. He should be pleased. She truly was learning. And yet, there was an alarming pang of something close to regret at the sight.

"He is supposed to be influencing her," Nada said, turning to Irmara and knowing that her mother would support her position no matter what she personally felt. "Not the other way around. Will you deny that her heathen ways are rubbing off on Auger?"

Violet stared at her plate, knowing that if she even looked up at her aunt she'd fly across the table and tear her eyes out. She listened, expecting some help from her grandmother. Instead, her grandmother agreed with Nada, and Violet's growing disappointment in the woman took away all her appetite.

"It is my understanding that a punishment was carried out," Irmara said to her daughter. "It will not happen again."

Nada's fanning slowed and she took a deep breath. "You can see why I was upset," she said more calmly, turning to Merle. "While a man should most certainly capitulate to the wishes of a woman, it is unseemly to lower one's self to the floor and rut around in the dirt like a pig!"

Merle almost laughed. In their current residence there were over thirty staff members at any given time making sure not so much as a mote of dust was allowed to settle on the floors. Rut in dirt like a pig? In this house? He picked up his wine glass and drained it. "Auger, do not rut in the dirt like a pig. Your mother finds it unseemly."

"Yes, sir," Auger said, not really sure if he was still in trouble or not.

The rest of the meal passed without incident. The children remained silent while the adults rattled on about things Violet didn't care about. She felt so let down by her grandmother that it was harder and harder to swallow her food as the dinner went on. She had to keep biting her lip so she would not cry, and was very happy when the maid served her a single stewed prune, the last course of the meal. It was almost over. And then she could get out of the dress and the shoes and close her eyes in her bed and pretend Da was sitting next to her in the chair.

When the meal was over, everyone rose and walked out in stiff lines, just like Violet had practiced, and entered the formal after-dinner parlor. Mr. Canton had told her that normally children were sent to bed at that point, but he turned out to be wrong. Grandmother bent down to the three children. "Tonight you will serve Violet tea," she told Anka.

"Yes, Grandmother," Anka said with her fake sweet voice she used for the adults.

"I thought it was time for bed," Violet said.

Grandmother frowned and gave a shake of her head in warning.

"It is a formal dinner," Anka said, turning to walk toward a small table with chairs in the corner of the room. "You will be expected to sit for tea after." It was very hard for Violet not to shuffle her feet as she followed her cousin for another torturous ritual.

Bradwin sat stiffly in the arm chair, wondering why they were bothering with such silly formalities. If it was for the girl's benefit, then he didn't need to be there. Still, he'd learned some interesting information that his family would need to know. Though he knew Irmara did not like it when he discussed business at any formal event, even if it was just a practice run with the family, his days were becoming busier and busier. While he had planned on informing them of the move in the morning, he decided to seize the opportunity that evening and free up an extra few minutes from his schedule. He'd do it now and suffer her cold shoulder. He was used to it.

"I'm glad you all are here. There have been developments that we need to discuss."

Irmara was about to open her mouth to argue, but saw the quick angry look on Nada's face and decided to allow Bradwin to discuss business. Let her stew, Irmara thought. Let her sensibilities really be rocked and give me an evening's peace after. She poured an after-dinner sherry and motioned for Bradwin to continue.

Bradwin quirked an eyebrow at his wife's easy acceptance, then decided to simply go with it. Whatever game she played was too much for him to worry about on top of everything else. "Yes, well. As you know, a war is building."

"War talk? After such a pleasant meal?" Nada crinkled her nose and snapped her fan open again.

Merle looked at his wife and shook his head. Pleasant meal? Was she honestly that blind to everything but herself? The answer to that, of course, made him gulp more wine. "Is it truly unavoidable, then?" he asked his father-in-law.

Bradwin nodded. "Yes. It seems those yokels got it in their head that they're a legitimate nation."

"Of course they would think that. You've been trading with them for years," Irmara pointed out. She loved politics in spite of herself. She loved the delicate workings of a deal and often sat in deep contemplation of the far reaching consequences that seemingly minute decisions could have.

Bradwin gave another nod. "I have been, in the hopes that we could have a positive influence over them and stand as an example. I have always given them the benefit of the doubt, always believed that they were intelligent enough to follow our lead. We've spent years increasing their standard of living. And what have we in return, hm? Nothing. There has been no progress on their cultural advancements. You've seen for yourselves now just how primitive they are. All our efforts to make their lives better have been made in vain. Worse," he said with feigned feeling. "Not only have they learned nothing, turned their noses up at our efforts, flatly refused to mature and act like they belong in this century, but they've intentionally slighted us time and again. They sent one of their own in to corrupt and abduct our son! And now after six years, we've finally got the opportunity to get him back here where he belongs."

A light bulb turned on in Irmara's head. So that's what the end game was. That's what he'd been setting up for years. That's why all of the secret meetings and clandestine trades. She wondered just how long he'd been planning this particular little ploy and she hated him for it. To use their son in such a manner...it was absolutely unforgivable! And yet, through the rage, an admiration sparked in her she hadn't felt for him in years. She could not deny the brilliance.

The entire nation had mourned Tenet. He'd always been very well-liked in the press, even if he had no offers for marriage. He was always smiling and had an easy going nature that the media ate up. When he went missing, it truly was a sad day for the country. It strengthened the peoples' devotion to the Bradwins who had to suffer such a great tragedy. In truth, Irmara always knew that sympathy alone was what made Merle's parents pay off the contract payments so he could wed Nada so quickly. They needed a happy event to set their world to rights, and the enormous wedding took the sting out of the loss.

And now, those same people had a chance to get Tenet back. Irmara had underestimated Bradwin's reasoning for bringing Violet to them. She had assumed that Violet alone was the end game. Not only would Violet be Tenet's replacement if she could be properly trained, they'd get payments from many sources for the promise of Violet's hand for years to come. Irmara never dreamed Bradwin planned to have not only the girl, but get Tenet himself to return.

"He won't come for her," she said quickly, a flutter of panic cutting through the admiration.

Bradwin knew she was scared for Tenet. He'd have to navigate the waters carefully. He had an entire nation of barbarians trying to destroy his plans. The very last thing he needed was to have everything suddenly crumble from within. He had to have Irmara on his side as a means to an end if nothing else. "He has been at their mercy, with no choice. If my negotiations are successful and they release him, he'll be welcome with open arms."

Nada gasped and for a second, Irmara actually wondered if the girl was going to swoon for real this time. She needed a second herself to gather her thoughts through the shock. "You would let him return after...everything?" Irmara cursed herself inside for allowing her voice to sound desperate and hopeful.

Bradwin wanted Tenet all right. He wanted the knowledge the boy carried inside him about a culture he didn't understand. He had lived among them for years. He had been openly accepted by the government and if his intel from Jace was correct, which he didn't really doubt, then Tenet had some very powerful friends in the Borderlands indeed. Bradwin almost became giddy when he thought of all the information the recorder buried deep in Tenet's leg would give them when it was removed.

And though it took his inner councils to convince him Tenet had merit aside from being a walking recorder, he had finally agreed with their points of view. The people would eat the story up. They all used to love Tenet and would gladly open their arms to him again. It used to make Bradwin sick to see how easily Tenet could mix with any group. Now, he could see the value such a skill could be to his cause.

"I sent a communique to the base they call Carlton right across the border," he informed them.

"They have bases?" Merle asked in surprised.

Irmara sighed. "Of course they have bases, you twit!" she snapped. She ignored the hurt in Merle's eyes. "Haven't you listened to a thing that's been going on for months around here?"

Bradwin let out a laugh at the kid's expression. "I doubt there's been much information at the bottom of his wine glasses." The words hit home and Merle turned as red as the claret he was drinking.

"You were talking about a communique," Irmara prompted impatiently.

"Yes, Father," Nada said snidely while she patted her husband's knee in sympathy for the cruel words. "Tell us all about the wonderful Tenet's return. We positively cannot wait."

If looks could kill, the daggers Irmara shot her daughter would have done her in once and for all. "I have already reminded you of how kindly your brother always treated you, even when you acted abominably. Perhaps those pills you take are as bad on your memory as the wine is on your husband's!"

Bradwin had to hold himself together so he wouldn't cackle with glee. He had to admit he took extra pleasure in the rare occasions when Irmara sharpened her claws on Merle for once instead of him. The color had drained from the man's stricken face and Nada's mouth hung open like a transport hangar door flapping in the breeze.

Irmara turned her look to Bradwin. "Now tell us about this communique."

Bradwin didn't dare defy her. "I am attempting to avert the war."

Irmara clenched her fist, digging her nails into her palm in her frustration. "You just said it was unavoidable."
Bradwin nodded. "I truly believe it is. However, one must try." He took a sip of his tea. "At the moment we are at a standstill. They are gathering their forces, such as they are, and we are fortifying ours."

"We'll blast right through them," Merle said, trying to set the evening back to rights. "We've got the most highly trained men, bots, and drones. What could those hicks possibly have that can compete?"

Bradwin sat back in his chair. "Quite. As I've said, primitive doesn't even begin to describe the situation in those tribal lands."

Irmara was with Bradwin right up until that comment. "Tribal does not mean primitive," she said icily.

"You have seen your granddaughter. Need I remind you of her state of being when she first walked through your door?" He could see that Irmara wanted to fight the point on principle. She struggled with herself for a moment before waving a hand in concession to the point. "They ride horses," he said with disgust. "They don't even have a transportation grid! All of the motorized vehicles ride on wheels and rely on human controls. Can you imagine?" He shook his head. "I believe in this case, 'tribal' really does mean 'primitive.' And that is quite an advantage for us."

Nada began fanning herself again, growing bored and annoyed with the war conversation. "I don't see what any of this has to do with us. Just send in your bots and destroy them. War over."

Bradwin did not like the look of horror that flashed over Irmara's face for a brief second before she could rein it in. "Because it is not as simple as all that," he said as patiently as he could. "There are many who see the barbarians as a pitiful case and will sympathize."

"Sympathize?" Nada squeaked. "With savages?"

"Why not? Your mother does."

Irmara could not look the monster in the eye another moment. She stood and walked to the window, looking out at the fields being harvested under the bright artificial lights. She took a slow, deep breath. "I do not sympathize, I merely understand," she said when she had calmed the raging beast inside. She turned around. "Look at Violet. There are untold thousands of children just like her up there. Would you honestly have them all killed without giving them the opportunity to live and thrive as human beings?"

Nada snorted. "You act as if they're salvageable."

Irmara gasped. "They're children!"

Nada pinched the bridge of her nose. "And here we are back at this again. Honestly, Mother, you give me a headache." She held her hand out to Merle and waited. He glanced at Irmara quickly, her words still stinging inside, but she refused to give him guidance. After a moment's hesitation, he pulled a bottle of pills from within his coat pocket and gave Nada one.

Bradwin sighed heavily. "If you are done with your antics, we still have much to discuss." Nada didn't even lift her eyes to him, just sipped her tea to swallow her pill, then fanned herself and looked as bored as possible. Bradwin wondered just what the chit would say if he took that fan and slapped her across the face with it. It was a warming thought.

"The communique I keep attempting to discuss is a peace agreement. A settlement of sorts." He waved a hand when Merle opened his mouth. He knew Merle was trying to seem like a man, to prove himself after the brutal truths that were spoken, but he had run out of patience. "I won't get into the semantics of the deal, but, in essence, I have demanded the return of my son. If they comply, I will withdraw my forces by fifty miles and reopen trade negotiations."

Nada felt the potent pill already start to take effect. "Fascinating! Now, what does this have to do with me, Father dear?"

Bradwin made a note to speak with Irmara later about their daughter's addiction. Though common among those in her caste, he found it unseemly in the daughter of the Exalted Leader. She should at least learn to hide it better. "It concerns us all because things must happen on a very strict time line from here on out," he said tightly. Sick of looking at his daughter and her pathetic husband, he turned to Irmara. "I dispatched my men with my negotiations just this afternoon. It will take them three days to reach an official liaison point. As soon as that happens, we must be in a position to present Violet."

Nada's mouth flapped again. "But the gala!"

"Oh for heaven's sake!" Bradwin scoffed. "You'll have your precious little gala where you can parade your little brat and her stupid brother around, don't you worry about that!"

Nada swayed in her seat. Merle knew it wouldn't be too much longer before she demanded another pill and became absolutely unmanageable. "Perhaps we should shelve this discussion for another evening," he said hesitantly.

Bradwin's eyes widened. "Have you not heard a word I've said? We need to be prepared to move within two days. There isn't time to shelve this for another evening!"

"Nada!" Irmara commanded. The girl turned her glazed eyes to her mother. "Sit still and remember yourself."

Nada nodded and turned back to look at her father, giving it her best shot at concentrating through the little rainbows the lights in the room made on her father's balding head. "We move tomorrow then?" she asked.

When Bradwin nodded, Irmara shook her head. "I don't know why you waited until the last moment to tell me this..."

"I just made the plans before dinner," he began in his defense.

"But as you have never been able to comprehend," Irmara continued as if he didn't speak at all, "it takes more than one evening to pack and move an entire household. I need at least one full day."

Bradwin felt the acid bubble in his chest and took out the packet of powders he always kept on him. He opened the little packet and poured the soothing powder into his tea. "I don't see why it's such a big production. What do you have here that you don't already have there?"

Irmara blinked at him for a moment. He was not a stupid man, which meant he simply chose to be blind to all the work it took to change residences. "Our clothing. Our staff. I need to instruct those remaining on how to secure for Summer and sign off on severance pay for those we're not taking with us. It's very early to ask them all to leave, and that will no doubt bring a slew of complaints. Not to mention the patients I have in the outlying clinics who planned on relying on my healing for..."

"Enough," Bradwin said after he gulped his elixir. "I give. You will have the rest of this evening and tomorrow. We'll board the transports at noon the next day."

The list raced through Irmara's head of all that she had to do, not just what she mentioned to Bradwin but the hundreds of other little details that she planned on having two weeks to complete. Bradwin looked stoic and she knew he would not bend further. "You have made up your mind and once again I'll just have to do the best I can."

Bradwin nodded firmly. "Good! And you have my leave to bring any supplementary staff you feel is necessary for the girl."

That was something, anyway. Irmara would inform Bodi that evening, as well as the stylist. There would not be time to look for competent help in the corn sector and she was pleased with their work. "Very well."

"What are you going to do about baby Tenny?" Nada asked with a half smile.

Nada hadn't called Tenet by his childhood nickname in years, and Irmara suddenly wondered if Nada truly cared under her stone exterior. Perhaps her bitterness was born of fear. Perhaps she had missed Tenet just as badly in her own way. "We shall continue our training just as we have."

Nada snorted. "Mother, please. You cannot put her in front of a camera yet."

"We may not have to," Bradwin said. "We'll let Udin decide."

Nada groaned, Merle shot a quick, worried look at Irmara, and Irmara turned her gaze from all of them in case her excitement showed in her eyes. She had not seen Udin Castani for three years, not since the night her husband walked in on them in a compromising position. He was Bradwin's press secretary, and if he wasn't such a damn good one, Irmara often thought Bradwin would have killed him on the spot. Not out of jealousy, of course. She wasn't young or naive anymore and wouldn't for a second entertain the thought that Bradwin had felt jealousy at the thought of his wife in another man's arms. Bradwin was spiteful, not jealous. As it turned out, keeping Udin so close, yet so far out of Irmara's reach had been far more hurtful than getting rid of the man ever would have been.

"Yes, I said Udin," Bradwin said quietly, noticing his wife's hands that twisted together on her lap so tightly the knuckles turned white. "We've no choice. He's the best."

Irmara lifted her cool eyes to Bradwin's. "Yes, he is."

Bradwin felt the acid roil anew and angrily snatched out his powders. He dumped the rest of the packet into the remainder of his tea and choked it down. "Don't get any ideas, woman. So help me, if you don't keep this strictly business..."

"Father!" Nada gasped. Even in her stoned haze she was outraged on her mother's behalf that he would so much as hint at old indiscretions.

Irmara heard her knuckles crack and forced herself to ease her grip. "You have nothing to fear, dear," she said with all the warmth of a New Canada Winter. "I will be far too busy to worry about what your silly little yes-man is doing."

Bradwin let out a caustic laugh and shot a knowing glance at Merle. "Yes, I'm sure you will."

Merle choked on his wine and Irmara's nostrils flared in anger and humiliation. "I would be very careful what you choose to say next, Junior," Irmara said in a voice shaking in rage.

Nada's eyes went wide. Mother only called Father "Junior" when her anger had reached explosive levels. She turned to Merle. "What did I miss?"

Merle opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, completely floored by the old man's open and painfully accurate accusation. He felt the trickle of fear even through his drunkenness and looked to Irmara helplessly.

A scream ripped through the room and all the adults turned their attention to the far corner of the room where the children were supposed to be calmly drinking their tea. Irmara and Merle both jumped up and all but ran to the children's table, immensely relieved for the distraction no matter what the cause. Still, Merle could not hold in his gasp at the sight, and Irmara had to agree that his shock was warranted. Violet stood in front of Auger's chair, pointing at Anka with a hand twisted in some sort of sign and babbling words that Irmara could not understand.

"Violet!" Irmara almost shouted. "What on earth is going on here?"

Anka was beside herself. Her normally pale face was flushed, her eyes were wide with fear, and she trembled as she sat back in her seat as far away from Violet's anger as possible. "She's a witch!"

"Young lady you drop that finger right now and explain yourself!" Bradwin bellowed, coming up behind his wife.

Violet had enough. She simply had enough! They wanted an explanation? Fine. She pointed her finger at Anka. "She was being mean to Auger again."

Irmara knew it was true. Her granddaughter already showed signs of inheriting Nada's bitter streak. She turned on the girl. "Is this true?"

Anka shook her head and made her eyes go as wide as possible. "No, Grandmother. I was drinking my tea and talking about the harvest."

Irmara's eyes narrowed. "And why should a discussion about a harvest make Violet angry?"

"Because she's a witch!" Anka jumped up and ran behind her father for extra effect. She sniffed loudly. "She's a witch and a barbarian and she hates us all!"

Violet felt the angry tears burn in her eye and she glared at Anka. What was a show for her father quickly turned into real panic, and Anka clutched her father's legs with all her might.

"Anka was taking my Yum Yum cake again," Auger piped up. As soon as Anka shot him a look, he closed his mouth quickly.

"Is this true, Violet?" Irmara asked.

"Yes," she insisted. "She always takes his cakes. And then she tells him she'll pop his nose if he says anything about it. She's a lynta."

"What the hell is a lynta?" Bradwin asked, feeling a headache begin on top of the heart burn.

"Someone who steals food from someone else," Violet said as if it was the dumbest question on the planet. Didn't her grandparents know anything at all?

Merle sighed. "Well for heaven's sake! All this over a Yum Yum cake? We'll just ring for another."

Irmara shot him a disappointed look. "So that is your takeaway? That your daughter should be allowed to bully because we've plenty of Yum Yum cakes?" She made a tsk noise and shook her head, then turned back to Violet. "Continue your story, young lady."

Violet took a deep breath. She knew her grandmother would not be happy with what happened next. "So I told Auger he didn't have to listen to a lynta, and that he should put a hex on her, and he didn't know what a hex was, so I got up and showed him." Her grandmother had that same look Da got when he was really, really upset with something she did, and she knew her next afternoon would be spent in punishment. "I just didn't want him to keep having his Yum Yum cakes taken by her!"

That wasn't exactly true, and all the adults in the room, save, perhaps, the stoned Nada, knew very well that the outburst had been building. It must have. They were all pushing a young child very hard, and even Bradwin could not muster anger. "This is why we have these trial runs," he said quietly to Irmara.

Irmara sighed heavily and rang for Violet's personal maid. "I believe it has been a long day, and tomorrow will be even longer."

Violet turned hopeful eyes to her grandmother. Perhaps she wouldn't be punished after all. However, when Grandmother gave instructions to the maid to bathe Violet and put her to bed, she still had her angry voice. Violet's shoulders slumped and she shuffled down the hall after the maid in her slippery, clunky shoes, and her itchy, scratchy dress.

"That's all she gets? Sent to bed?" asked Nada, teetering as she approached. "That's her punishment?"

"Of course not," Irmara snapped. "Get your children to bed." She eyed her wobbly daughter. "All of you. Go to bed."

Merle looked at her hopefully but it was clear whatever good times she had been thinking about earlier in the evening were canceled. He gathered up his children and wife and guided them down the hall towards their own rooms. When Anka tried to speak, he cut her off firmly and they made the rest of the trip to the west wing in silence.

Irmara waited until they were all out of sight before she allowed herself the rare pleasure of a good, long string of swearing. Bradwin humphed a little laugh, then ran a hand up under his glasses to rub his tired eyes. "She can't go putting hexes on people."

"You think?" asked Irmara sarcastically.

Bradwin rolled his neck and heard it pop. "The little shit had it coming, though."

Irmara felt her lips tug slightly up in spite of herself. "Scared her but good, didn't it?"

Bradwin did laugh then, a real, honest laugh at the memory of Anka's face when Violet glared. "That was the hunter side of her, I suppose."

Bradwin had given Irmara very little information about the hunter known as Scarab, the woman Tenet took up with. Or was kidnapped by. Or escaped with or any number of unanswered possibilities. The woman that was Violet's mother, no matter the circumstances. "Is she...is she very much like her mother, then?"

Bradwin quirked an eyebrow. "Can't you see it?"

"I see the looks, of course. But I see so much of Tenet in her."

Bradwin made a noncommittal little grunt, then changed the subject. He didn't want to talk about the hunter. He didn't want Irmara feeling sorry for her. He was almost sure she was dead, but until he was positive, the less Irmara knew, the better. He needed her to show the world fear and contempt for the cruel huntress who stole her child right out from under her wing. She needed to hate Scarab and help him sell the story. "We'll get that side out of her," Bradwin said. "However we need to."

Irmara felt the sinking dread at his tone. "Oh, Bradwin. Not the collar."

"I'm sorry, Irmara, but we simply cannot risk what happened here tonight to happen in front of the public."

Irmara turned to face him head on. They had already discussed the possibility of using a training collar on Violet, and only the glee she allowed Bradwin to have over seeing her grovel made him bend to her will. Shock collars were used for the slaves in the Third Worlds, or for training pets, not on respectable little girls! Bradwin had allowed Violet's training to begin without the tool, but now Irmara knew it would be all but impossible to let things continue as they were. "What will people think when they see a training collar on her?"

"As I mentioned before, it'll simply appear to be a necklace." He wagged a finger at Irmara. "You don't keep up with technology, do you? No one will ever know."

She shook her head. "No. I won't allow it."

Bradwin was out of patience. "You won't allow it? Well, you know what I won't allow? I won't allow my wife to keep having an affair with my son-in-law! Perhaps you are the one that needs a shock collar!" Irmara's eyes went wide and her mouth flapped open, and Bradwin felt a rush of triumph. For once, his wife was speechless. He added another mental tally to his side. "I will put the collar on her starting tomorrow because it's what's good for the family. She simply must learn that she cannot and will not have such outbursts!"

Irmara was shaking. Her insides felt like the jellies she so loved and she suddenly had to sit. Bradwin had never before indicated he knew about her dalliances with Merle, and she wondered how long he had known. One look at his face told her he was saving that bombshell for a special moment. The one fortunate thing was that Nada was so out of it she doubted her daughter caught on. The girl wasn't the brightest in the most sober of moments, and as Irmara forced her racing mind to calm and let logic take over, she knew Nada still had no clue. She wouldn't have to face that explosion on top of everything else at the moment. She'd have to end the affair with Merle, of course, but since she had already begun to eye Bodi, that would be no hardship. And there was Udin. She'd finally see Udin again.

Bradwin studied his wife with sick amusement. He knew her well enough that he could almost hear her thoughts. She wasn't worried about the safety of her granddaughter, or the appearances in front of the press and society. She was worried about the potential ramifications of her affair being outed. How he could have been taken in by her all those years ago, he simply did not know. His own mother had been cold and distant, but served his father well. He chose a hot blooded native girl, and realized far too late that he could not make her stay his once she had to conform to society. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but it did make his own memories of his mother much fonder.

Bradwin was not surprised by the affair. It was the latest in a long list of infidelities. And at least Merle was respectable. At least he wasn't some random farmhand who nailed Irmara in a pile of straw, spreading goodness only knew what kind of germs and disease. So on personal merits alone, Merle was a much better choice than most of Irmara's conquests. Bradwin probably wouldn't have said anything at all if the situation hadn't been dire. He most likely would have just waited to see how the drama unfolded when Nada found out. However, he was asking a lot of his family, and the idea that Irmara would do as he asked simply to help him out was laughable. Sometimes a knife had to twist to make people move.

"Don't worry that I'll tell Nada," he said calmly. "We'll have the girl fit for the collar first thing in the morning."

Bradwin did not have to spell it out for Irmara. He didn't have to specifically say that he'd keep the secret "if". She knew by then just how he worked, and though she knew it made her a terrible person, she readily agreed. "As long as it won't scar."

Bradwin stared at his wife for a moment, then let out a sad laugh. Something in him half hoped she'd still fight for the girl. But just as she did with Tenet, with Nada, and with everything else in life, she simply caved for her own purposes. She didn't do things for the good of anyone but herself, and even though she capitulated as he wanted, he couldn't help the grip of disgust that ripped through him. "Go to bed. Alone," he added bitterly. "I can't stand to look at you another moment."

Irmara gathered herself together and rose, looking upon her husband regally, as if she had any right to still have pride. With her nose in the air, she walked right past him, desperately hoping she appeared unaffected by his words. She stopped at the doorway and looked over her shoulder, needing to get the parting shot. "I am the wife you wanted, Bradwin. I have done every single thing that is expected of one in my position. If you weren't as old as the hills you'd be screwing the maids, too, so don't you dare get on your high horse with me. I'll do as you say because believe it or not, I do see the dangers. I'm not stupid."

"I never, ever called you stupid," Bradwin said firmly.

Irmara felt the weight of the day. Without another word, she walked from the room leaving Bradwin to silently wonder why he felt like she had just won yet again.

Chapter 14

A loud thumping woke Tenet from a beautiful dream. He was playing with Violet in the river on the outskirts of Ogden. It was a warm summer day and as she splashed him and giggled, Scarab sat on a rock and swirled her feet in the cool water. It was so real he could almost feel the sun on his face and hear the rustle of the wind through the Sister trees.

The thumping broke through the dream. He almost moaned in the sadness of leaving the perfect scene behind as he cracked an eye open. Scarab wasn't in bed, and he quickly scanned the room. She was standing with her back to the wall next to the door, her weapon drawn. By the look of her crazy, bed-ruffled hair, she had been woken by the loud pounding as well and was acting on instincts.

"Scarab," Tenet said firmly, trying to snap her out of her panicked reaction.

Scarab blinked, sleep still clouding her eyes and brain. Tenet's voice drew her attention and when he motioned for her hand as he got his pants on, she looked down. "Oh," she said when she saw the gun.

"Mr. Lorne!" a deep voice called through the door.

"Coming!" he yelled back. He took the gun from Scarab's hand and gave her a gentle push towards the little table. He watched her shuffle away and take a seat at the table, then yawn and rub at her eyes. She was not a morning person, even if it was evening, and he knew she'd do well to get some caffeine in her system. "There are some tea leaves in my satchel if you need a boost," he said, nodding to his bag in the corner as he buttoned his shirt.

Scarab yawned again and shook her head. "They might have coffee." The person pounded on the door again and Scarab waved her hand. "Better get it."

Tenet finished tucking in his shirt and pulled the door open.

"Sir, sorry for the intrusion," said the soldier before Tenet could greet him. "But Major Krupkie is calling for you and the Mrs."

Tenet nodded. "Thanks. Can you give us a minute to finish getting dressed?"

The soldier nodded. "I'll stand post until you're ready."

"Coffee," Scarab said, rising to get herself dressed.

Tenet turned back to the soldier. "Any chance of coffee?"

The soldier nodded. "I'll contact mess and make sure it's waiting for you."

Tenet thanked him and closed the door. "Now that's what I call service. I could get used to being waited on hand and foot."

Scarab gave him a dry look, then got herself dressed while Tenet used the bathroom, then she went to freshen up while Tenet gathered their boots, coats, and gear. He placed Scarab's gun back in its holster and laid it out with her coat. There was no way he would ever let her go anywhere unarmed again. If Krupkie had a problem with that, he was fully prepared to tell her what she could do with herself.

When they were ready, they followed the soldier through the base. It was late in the afternoon, with hardly any sunlight left. They had arrived early that morning and slept the entire day away. Tenet felt a growing apprehension about the lost time, and a quick look at Scarab said she felt the same. Still, Krupkie had sent for them when they were needed. If there had been anything they could have done earlier, Tenet had no doubt they would have been woken.

Major Krupkie had an entire meal set up for them in her office. As soon as they entered, she told them to sit and eat. Scarab ignored the food and went straight for the large carafe of coffee, while Tenet grabbed a plate and began piling it high. He nudged Scarab. "Sausage," he said, knowing it was one of his wife's favorites. He fixed a plate for her, even though she waved him off, and they took a seat in front of the Major's desk. After just a couple sips of coffee, Scarab began eating and Major Krupkie realized just what a team the two had become. Tenet knew his wife well enough to know what she'd want before she asked, and that was a rare bond between couples. The man had learned how to truly get into the former hunter's heart and it made Krupkie glad for her decision to allow them sanctuary all those years ago.

It also made her sorry for what she was about to tell them. She knew she'd have a fight on her hands. She took a deep, bracing breath, and started to fill them in on the meetings she'd had. "As you know, I've been in meetings all day with various heads of state, including President Henders himself." The couple looked unmoved, and Krupkie envied their lives deep in the mountains that kept them away from politics. "Please," she said sarcastically. "Hold in your awe and wonder until I'm through."

Tenet glanced up and saw a wry smile on the Major's face. "Uh, sorry. That's great. The president himself, huh?"

"Yes." She sniffed and tented her hands on the desk in front of her. "There have been... developments."

Scarab put her fork down and sat up. "Violet?"

"No. My people on the ground down there assure me she is well."

Tenet gave Scarab's hand a quick squeeze, his heart racing just as quickly as hers. "It's okay."

"What's the development then?" Scarab asked.

"We've received word of a proposition. Though it hasn't been officially presented, I have it on good authority that your father is prepared to call off this war if we meet his terms."

Tenet swallowed hard, a sinking feeling taking all of his appetite away. "I bet I can guess his terms."

Major Krupkie nodded. "Yes. You."

"No." Scarab's response was cold and firm, the very tone daring Major Krupkie to continue.

The Major stared at Scarab and took her anger well. She'd faced enemies across the battlefield, she could handle one angry woman. And yet, something in her, some little voice warned that she may have met her match. She did not want to have the hunter as her enemy. "We are on the same side, Mrs. Lorne," she assured her.

"Like hell we are!"

"Scarab," Tenet said softly, placing his hand on her arm. "Let's hear her out."

"Hear her out?" she repeated incredulously.

"Yes, hear me out," Major Krupkie echoed. "It seems as if they will offer a complete pledge of peace if we turn over Mr. Lorne."

Scarab's eyes snapped back to Krupkie's. "I have not spent the last six years of my life protecting this man to simply turn him over to the very people who want him dead."

"We don't believe they want him dead," Krupkie said carefully.

Scarab scoffed. "Yeah. Okay. And who said that, hm? The slimy weasel who took out a kill bounty on him?"

Major Krupkie shrugged. "You're right. You're absolutely right. We can't trust him. He's broken every single agreement we've had in the past and there is nothing to indicate that he'll hold up his end of the bargain."

Scarab took a deep breath, relieved that Krupkie wasn't really going to go along with such a stupid idea. "Good. Then we're on the same page."

Major Krupkie wished in that moment that they were. She really did. When Henders had insisted on his course of action and told her his standard "make it happen", she wanted to be anywhere else but at the head of the pack. And yet, she could see the value in Henders' plan. She could see the end of a very long struggle for all of the Borderlands. And although she wished with all her being there was any other way, she'd be damned if she could see one. Bradwin had inadvertently wrapped up his own demise with a nice, neat little bow if they went forward, and it was an opportunity she could not pass up. None of them could, not even the Lornes. She simply had to convince them.

"We are on the same page, aren't we?" Scarab asked in a dangerous tone of voice when Krupkie didn't answer immediately.

Major Krupkie held up her hand. "Hear me out. Let me say my peace without jumping in."

Scarab looked at Tenet and he could see the fear in her eyes. He would have been a liar if he didn't admit it matched his own. He held Scarab's hand and nodded for Major Krupkie to continue.

Major Krupkie opened her mouth, then closed it again, considering the best way to lead into the story. Of course they were skeptical. Truth be told, she had her own concerns and misgivings. However, the opportunity could not be missed. She decided a little background was necessary. "We've had men on your father for the last three years."

Tenet frowned. "On him?"

"Yes. Some of our best people infiltrated your father's inner circles." The hunter was still burning with anger, and yet Krupkie could see a quick twinkle in her eye. "Spies, if you will, though honestly they do not like being called that."

"Intelligence agents," said Tenet. "That's what my father called them."

"We officially call them nothing." She waved a hand. "I'm getting off course. Initially they were placed as workers in the fields, to see if we could get a better idea of the trafficking pattern. I wish I could say that six years later has seen our drug problem get better, but that would be a lie. My people were sent down there with the information you provided to see the progression of coca, first, from seed to our door step."

Tenet was interested. Most of the questions Fratz asked him during his yearly interrogations had to do with locations of grow fields, any unexplained activities in the supposed wild areas, that type of thing. "Did you find out who's growing?"

Krupkie shrugged. "Yes. No." She made a motion with her hand to dismiss the question. "It's such a careful operation that we quickly learned finding the growing fields and the lesser players was not going to take care of our problem. Our main objective was cutting the head off the snake, if you will. It became very clear only after a short while of close observation that your father is directly responsible."

Tenet's look was grim, but accepting. "I feel like an ass that I'm still at all surprised."

"Don't," Krupkie continued. "He's good at hiding his operations. I don't suppose it's all that hard when he's surrounded by people who don't even bother to question. Once we decided the head was the way to go, we got several people hired on to your family's personal staff." At Tenet's impressed look, Major Krupkie couldn't help the sudden burst of pride. It had been difficult and, in the end, the infiltration plan was her idea. She still remembered her less than humble reaction when the first communique came in from the one who had been hired as the wife's personal maid.

"It would seem that your family has no idea what's going on in their very own home. I do not believe a single one of them aside from your father knows just what pays for their fancy perfumes and pretty jewelry."

Tenet let out a bitter laugh. "Don't be fooled."

Krupkie was surprised, and the look on Scarab's face said she wasn't the only one. "That's a jaded opinion I didn't expect from you, Mr. Lorne."

Tenet shrugged. "What do you want me to say? I've spent the last chunk of my life learning how to be a husband and a father." His voice caught on the last word and he quickly cleared his throat to hold back the emotions. "And I've done my best to be a good one. It's brought some things to the forefront of memory and given certain aspects of my life in a different perspective." Scarab gave his hand a firm squeeze, and he let out a wry little laugh. "Almost six years of telling me to grow up, and I finally do and now you're worried about me?"

Scarab's frown deepened. Yes, she was worried. It felt like the Tenet she knew was changing into someone else right in front of her and there didn't seem to be a damn thing she could do about it.

"As valuable as your insight has been to us, you need to remember that your information is six years old," Major Krupkie said, getting back on track. "My men and women have seen nothing, nothing at all to indicate that your mother or your sister and her family have any knowledge about the seedy deals."

"My sister's family?"

"Yes. She has a husband and two children."

Tenet smiled. "Nada as a mother?"

Krupkie flashed a quick smile his way. "That's right. It's hard to remember you don't know these things. Yes, a boy and a girl. Twins. I don't remember their names, but I think they are just a bit younger than Violet."

Tenet laughed. "Oh I can't imagine her the mother of twins! They must run her ragged!" He turned to Scarab. "I'm an uncle. And you, my dear, are an aunt." As soon as he said the words reality came back to him. For one quick second, his only thought was of the Nada of his childhood, his friend, his cohort against their parents. For one all too brief moment, he wanted to race to Nada and pick her up and swing her around and tease her for being an old mother and... And then the thought hit him that she was probably the one handling Violet. It was as if ice water was dumped on his head. He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face.

Scarab watched the play of emotions on Tenet's face and felt sorry for her husband. Of course he was excited about the news. She would give anything to have her own sister back, to know that even if she could never see her, she was out there somewhere, a wife and mother herself. She also knew the very second it hit him, that his sister may be involved with Violet, that she may have had something to do with it in spite of what Krupkie was saying. "Get to the point already," Scarab snapped at the older woman.

"My point was not to bring up painful memories," Krupkie said softly. "I'm simply telling you these things to assure you that we do, indeed, have a very good idea who and what we're dealing with. My people have been inside the house for years. They've been with your mother in her dressing rooms, her clinics, her parties and galas. They've been in the nursery caring for your niece and nephew, running errands for your sister, listening to her husband's litany of complaints."

"Must be Merle," he said to Scarab. "At least when I left he was the one that had paid the most. Good guy, but no spine at all."

"Yes, that sounds right," confirmed Krupkie. "Now, the reason I'm telling you all this is that I want you to feel as confident about the situation as we do. We're not rushing into anything blindly here. Your father has forced an issue that's been building for a long time now. Fine. He forced it. He does not believe we're ready, but if we play our cards right, it'll be our side that truly has the advantage of surprise."

Scarab sat forward in her seat, her entire body tense. Krupkie had been laying the groundwork, and now she was about to spell out her plan.

"We have successfully hidden our presence. It's an easy thing when you don't put mechanical trackers in all your citizens," Krupkie added wryly. "It's also ridiculously easy to send intel back and forth. We use their very own mail bots and simply send a letter to an outpost. They're so reliant on their damn technologies..." Krupkie was about to get on yet another rant. God, she was tired. She could not keep herself on track. She shook her head impatiently and poured yet another cup of coffee from the carafe on the desk, even though her hands were already slightly jittery. "They don't know about my people on the inside. Of that, I'm sure. And because of this, there are many things they don't know that we do.

"For example, we know that your father's end game is an all out war, no matter what he's saying in some damn communique. We believe it is only a farce, a tidbit for the press down there. We've had enough years to study that Enlightened Humanism he calls a religion." Krupkie, an old school Christian herself, scoffed at the very notion that the self-centric, fake religion was any more than another governmental control measure. "There is no way the people would support a widespread killing, even of heathens like us, without one damn good reason."

The coffee had made her even more agitated and Krupkie rose and paced to the window. "Your father's a brilliant man, do you know that?"

"Yes, so he always said," Tenet said sarcastically.

Krupkie snorted. "Well, it's true. He knows a couple of things. First, your nation is running out of food. You cannot produce enough."

"It's not my nation," Tenet reminded her in an annoyed tone. "And yes, I know. It's been a problem for many years. They trade with the Third Worlds."

Major Krupkie spun around and simply blinked at him for a moment. "Mr. Lorne, do you not understand why they are called the Third Worlds? They can barely feed themselves. How in the hell can they support Southland and New Canada?" She shook her head. "They can't, and that's why your grandfather began trading up here, taking our foods in return for stuff we didn't need and I wish we hadn't wanted. And then we formed, truly formed. Now we're a united government, a legitimate nation. Did you know the Third Worlds have agreed to add Borderlands to their maps? It's quite a step up!

"But, it puts a wrench in your father's works. We're smack dab in the middle of his nation, a nation filled with people who somehow have no clue we exist. With the Third Worlds accepting our status as a legitimate nation of the world, your father's got no choice but to accept us as well."

Scarab nodded slowly. "The fly in the ointment."

"Exactly," said Krupkie, leaning against her desk and folding her arms across her chest. "All of a sudden, a nation forms. Boom. And then the people turn to look at their Exalted Leader and ask just how it was the Third Worlds knew we were here and he did not? He's got few options. He could play dumb and lose the support of the nation, or he could admit it and lose their respect."

"Or he could start a war against the barbarians who took his son," said Tenet flatly.

Krupkie threw her hands in the air. "Bingo. He has spent quite awhile now designing this war. Nothing we could see at the time, of course. But once he crossed the border and blew us off so publicly, once he thumbed his nose in so grand a gesture, things began to fall into place and make sense. There was a reason he built more bots in the southern outposts. It wasn't to cross the Equatorial Desert, it was a ruse to divert our attention. He wasn't taking advantage of the newly opened ports on the southern border, but building troops for a northward assault."

"Why was he building in the south if he's attacking north?" Tenet asked, his rusty military gears slowly beginning to turn. "He would have gone utterly unseen if he built in New Canada. Everything's far more lax up there."

Scarab jumped in. "Because bots can't winter. He'd have to pay a fortune to have an off grid electrical system to keep them from shorting out."

"Precisely," said Krupkie. "It would have been a far better strategy, perhaps, but the logistics made it next to impossible. And lucky for us on that, too. Our northern border with New Canada is pathetic. Which, I might add, your father would know if he didn't consistently underestimate us." Krupkie turned back to her chair and sat down again. "He's put himself in a pickle, and one he believes he's once again cleverly planned his way out of. He needs a war, he needs us to pick it, and he needs a heartbreaking story to sell it to his people to gain their support."

"And this is where I come in," Tenet said heavily.

"And Violet," Krupkie agreed with a nod. "I'll freely admit we did not see that one coming."

Scarab snorted. "Great spies you have, then. And you expect me to put his life..."

"Hang on," Krupkie said quickly. "I'm offering you full disclosure so you can see I've got no cards up my sleeve. I didn't have to tell you this and admit our oversights. I could easily have convinced you it was all part of the plan, to allow your daughter to be abducted and carry our Henders' wishes. I gave you the benefit of the truth to show that you can trust me. No, I did not know the meeting was a ruse, or that Violet would be abducted. However, I will bet my life on it we now know what he'll do from here."

"No. You're betting his life on it," Scarab said hotly, jabbing her thumb in Tenet's direction.

"Mrs. Lorne," Major Krupkie said quietly and firmly. "Do you think for one moment if this plan does not work I am not on the chopping block? I have absolutely no doubt that if a single hair on his head is harmed, you will keep yourself alive long enough to do me in, no matter how bad off you are."

Tenet looked between the two women, his apprehension growing second by long, silent second. What the hell was Krupkie doing? This was not the way to sell her case to his wife!

"Well," said Scarab eventually. "Since he's not going to be your puppet, that's a moot point, isn't it?"

Major Krupkie spoke only to Scarab and Tenet once again felt control of his life being placed in someone else's hands. "We need a three part assault. We send Tenet in..."

"No."

"...with one of our men dressed as one of their soldiers. It's a method we've already tested before with a bounty, and no one questioned the soldier so long as he wore the proper uniform."

Scarab scoffed. "With a common bounty! Don't you think they'll be a little more careful with this one?"

"This one is sitting right here, you know," Tenet grumbled.

"Look, Bradwin wants Tenet. He's asking for us to hand him over to stop the war, and Henders believes that's the way we should roll, at least to give the appearance of full cooperation. Bradwin wants Tenet to fuel his war one of two ways. Either he's going to kill him and show the dead body that we heathens delivered, or he'll parade him around because he thinks the public will rally harder behind a living person." Krupkie ran a hand through her hair and took a breath. "Henders wants to hand Tenet over and let him take his chances. I convinced him the smarter move is to make certain the public sees a living, healthy person."

"And how are you going to do that?" Tenet asked.

"We get you in, not where your father wants, but where _we_ want. We use the element of surprise and make sure you're seen in a very public venue right off the bat. We find out where they're introducing Violet and make certain you're there in front of everyone. That's surprise number one."

Scarab scoffed. "You're kidding right? Just send him in. Let him waltz right into the lion's den. Great plan, Major. We'll pass."

"He wouldn't be by himself," Krupkie insisted. "As I've said, he'll have a team and we'll make sure that at least one of my men has the proper paperwork and credentials to stay by his side every step of the way."

Scarab hated that she could see the value in the plan. "I will not be separated from him again," she said firmly. "Send me in. I'll be the man."

"No," Krupkie and Tenet said at the same time.

"They want you dead and there's nothing the public could or would do to stop that," Krupkie explained. "However, their Golden Boy will be safe."

Scarab crossed her arms over her chest. "If you think I'm going to sit up here and wait..."

"I didn't say that. I said we have a three part plan. You heard part one." Krupkie waited until the fire cooled a little in Scarab's eyes and she motioned for Krupkie to continue. "Part two is you. We send you down with one of our extraction teams once we have solid intel and can make a plan of escape. I believe it's highly likely that any planned advance on our border will happen very soon after the migration. They'll introduce Violet, and have to reintroduce Tenet. They'll be busy scrambling to spin a story that will whip up the righteous indignation of the public, then migrate, thus increasing the chaos to keep their attentions off the attack, to cover up the killing your people..."

"They are not my people!" Tenet yelled. He looked at their stunned faces and jumped up, suddenly needing to move. "So Scarab would be part of the extraction team?"

Scarab felt a clutch of fear in her chest. "Tenet, no. You're not going without me."

"Yes," said Krupkie over Scarab's argument. "Her skills make her the most critical member of the team. She knows all the sectors inside and out. She knows every hiding spot, every potential danger zone."

"I haven't hunted in years," Scarab said through clenched teeth.

"It's not something you lose," said Tenet with heated passion. "I keep telling you this over and over and you never listen." He spun around and crouched in front of her chair. "For once will you just listen to someone else? Please. I can't be the one to go in there with guns blazing. That's never been me, and no matter how badly I want Violet back, I don't think I can pull it off. What I can do is go in there and find our baby and wait for you to bail us out. I can keep her calm and reassured and safe, and you can come in and save us."

Scarab felt that helpless bubble inside once again as she looked at Tenet's eyes. He was all for the plan already, and he was asking for her to be as well. Didn't he understand yet? He put her up on a pedestal, and she always knew one day she'd fall off. She let their daughter get taken. She didn't stop it. She let herself get soft and weak, and she tumbled off the pedestal with a crushing blow. Why couldn't he understand that?

Krupkie watched the two and knew the plan would go forward. She also knew that the hunter hated the fact that there was no other option. She decided to finish explaining the plan, then let Tenet talk his wife into it. "The third stage is a forward assault. We'll use our advancement as a distraction, time it to happen just hours before the migration when Mrs. Lorne and her team are in position. It'll give you all the best chance at making your escape, and give us the best chance at shutting that bastard up once and for all."

Scarab and Tenet hadn't taken their eyes off each other while Krupkie finished. "I can do this," Tenet said quietly.

Scarab let out a little gasp. "I never thought you couldn't," she said, truly surprised by the track Tenet's mind was taking. "It's not you I doubt," she admitted quietly.

Her confidence in him made his chest swell and he took her hand and kissed it. "And if there's anyone in the world who knows how to get my sorry ass out of a jam, it's you."

Scarab swallowed hard, searching inside herself for the old conceit, that cold, calculating bravado that kept her alive through eight years of hunting in the off seasons. It wasn't there. Instead, there were voices of doubt and self-loathing that pointed out every one of her failures through the years.

Major Krupkie felt for the woman. She could see her tortured look and knew she was beating herself up inside. Hell, Krupkie couldn't blame her. She herself had her rounds of bitter self doubt and hard personal questions she didn't like to answer. She needed something, Krupkie decided. She needed a reminder, some fuel to the fire. Though she hadn't planned on showing them surveillance photographs, she believed it just might be the kick in the pants the hunter needed to get her back to hunting. She opened her desk drawer and removed a few photographs. Without saying anything, she fanned them out on the desk in front of her.

Tenet caught the movement in his peripheral vision and turned to look. The Major was spreading out some photographs and giving him a pointed look. He stood and bent over the desk, staring at the black and white pictures of three children in what looked to be some sort of school. He frowned and glanced up at the Major. She leaned forward and tapped her finger on one of the children. "Look closer, Mr. Lorne," she said quietly.

Tenet picked up the photo and his breath hitched in his chest. "Violet," he said in a harsh whisper. He hadn't even recognized his own child. Her hair was cut and coiffed in the standard shell pattern of the upper caste. Her eyebrows were gone, her face incredibly pale, and the starched and frilly cotton clothing looked positively ridiculous on her. But her eyes, those were still completely Violet. She stared straight into the camera and Violet's jaw was set, and in spite of all they had done to her, the look of her mother was unmistakable. With a clenched fist he handed the photo over to Scarab and looked at the others.

Scarab took the picture and stared at her daughter. At first the girl was so foreign that she could not feel the connection they'd always shared. Violet was in a fancy gown with her fancy hair with two other fancy children in a rich life. For a fleeting second, Scarab remembered Jace's words. They could give Violet everything she wanted. And then, then she stared at her daughter's eyes, eyes so very much like her own, and all her insecurities started to vanish. This was _her_ daughter, _her_ child. This was the girl who liked to make mud pies to splatter in the puddles, not some puffy princess who wanted to parade around in fancy gowns. This was the child that would climb a tree and hang upside down like a possum, not sit at a ball and watch suitors prance and preen in front of her. This was the child that took down a full-grown ewe with no more than a training bow, not some boring robot who wanted to spend the rest of her life being told what to do. This was her daughter. Violet was hers, not theirs, and she would get her back.

Major Krupkie knew the second the hunter was back. She knew the moment the facts of the situation pushed aside the younger woman's personal angst. There was a shift in the very atmosphere of the room and Krupkie knew a cold wind would blow for the Bradwins for sure. She wondered which would be more devastating to the Exalted Leader: his epic loss in a battle he was certain he would win, or the face-to-face meeting with the hunter. She'd lay her bets on Scarab.

Scarab looked up at Krupkie. She folded the photo and placed in inside her breast pocket, knowing that she very well may need it to fuel her determination in the coming days. She wouldn't have Tenet with her. That created an odd emptiness that she quickly filled with the overflow of rage. But, she would not let him be alone. "I want my man with him," she said firmly.

Krupkie shook her head. "We've already chosen someone. He's highly trained and very familiar with the ways and customs of..."

"I will not say yes if you don't give me this one boon."

"If the Major thinks..." Tenet began, then faltered when he saw the determined look in his wife's face. He knew that look. That was the look he never, ever ignored. "Wren?" he said, completely changing his stance. When Scarab nodded, he shook his head and sat back down in his seat. "He'll never pass."

"We can teach him."

Krupkie sighed. "There's no time. The communique is supposed to officially arrive in just two days. Bradwin's moving to the corn sector, where everything will go down. That means we've got a very narrow margin to prepare and deploy. We've got the benefit of the harvests that are starting to come in. There are an increased number of air ships carting the foods to the various store houses and vendors, and we can easily catch one of those. Still, that's a solid day of travel." Krupkie shook her head. "I'm sorry, but there simply is no way we have time to train someone else."

"Then it's off," Scarab said. She stood and drained her coffee, then turned to walk out. "Thanks for the coffee, good luck with your war. Come on, Tenet."

She's bluffing, Krupkie thought to herself. Yet, Tenet rose and followed. "Where do you think you're going?" Krupkie demanded, sitting forward in her chair.

"To get my daughter my way."

Krupkie snorted. "You'll never even get through my border."

Scarab shrugged. "I guess we'll see about that."

"I'll have you arrested right now."

Scarab's mouth spread into a humorless, creepy smile while her hand moved to her weapon. "Try me."

Tenet stepped back. It was that movement that gave Krupkie pause. The man was convinced that things were about to get very messy, and he was stepping out of the line of fire. Were she younger, Krupkie knew she might have a chance at drawing her own weapon. But, just a chance. She sighed. What the hell was she doing? "I don't want to fight you. Stand down."

"I don't want to fight you, either," Scarab said, her hand still on the butt of her gun. "But I will. I will kill you right where you sit if you order my arrest. I will make it to the barracks and gather my men and we will leave your base and we will get through your border and we will get my daughter back."

Krupkie sat back in her seat and rubbed her tired eyes. "And in doing so you will damn us all. You know that, don't you? This is our only real shot."

"Then send my man in with Tenet."

Krupkie looked at the hunter and slowly shook her head. "Do you know that in the past week I have been bent over by more people than at any other time in my life?" She gave a sad, tired little laugh. "I am too old to be doing this shit." She waved her hand toward the door. "Fine. Go. Get your man. If he can pass our tests, I'll send him in."

"There is no 'if'."

"Don't push it, missy," Krupkie said with an icy glare.

Tenet pulled on Scarab's arm. "Come on," he said quickly, knowing that if she opened her mouth again they might just be back to square one.

Scarab looked at Krupkie and considered arguing further, then thought better of it. They'd test Wren, would they? Fine. She would just make damn sure he would pass. There was no way she would send Tenet in without someone she trusted, and Wren was as close as anyone got to gaining that trust. At the very least, she knew that if Tenet's life was in danger, Wren would give his to save her husband. Short of being there herself, it was the very best security she could offer. She gave Krupkie one last knowing look, then let Tenet guide her outside.

Major Krupkie felt her body deflate with relief. God, it was a long day. She reached for her coffee, then thought better of it and pulled a bottle of whiskey out of her desk drawer. She felt like she had just gone through battle and deserved a little nip. She took a biting swig and swallowed slowly, letting it burn. She let out a long, slow breath, then decided she'd earned just a bit more and took one more quick sip before capping the bottle and returning it to the hiding place behind a stack of files. The Lornes agreed, no matter how difficult it had been to get their approval. They'd use their own man, if he could be readied, but other than that, the plan would go forward as she intended. Step one was complete.

Major Krupkie slowly gathered up the photos from the desk to put them away. She looked at the children and shuddered, as she had the first time she saw the photos. They didn't look like people. They looked like little ghosts, specters that wore clothing and pretended to be human. Violet was the only one of the three that had life. The other two had eyes as dead as the chairs they sat on, and it made Tenet's personality all the more intriguing. She could not picture Tenet as one of these lifeless children. He had to have been like Violet, part of him always hovering in the background just waiting to break free. Dolls, Major Krupkie thought. They all looked like little dolls.

The Major scoffed at herself and shoved the photos back into her desk. She did not have time to sit and daydream. The first stage of the plan was in action and it was time to begin planning the careful details of the next step. She rolled her neck to work out the cricks of the day, poured another coffee, and got back to work.

Chapter 15

"I feel foolish."

Lendyl grinned at his mentor, his teacher, his companion in arms. "You look foolish, too."

Wren sighed heavily at himself in the mirror. He had readily agreed to Mrs. Lorne's request. In fact, he wouldn't have it any other way. He would go with Tenet and keep his life safe. If he had to look like a Southlander to pull it off, so be it. He had to wear camouflage to hunt, did he not? He'd had to blend in to different septads before his invasion, hadn't he? Wearing a disguise to see a mission through was nothing new. He was a warrior. He could handle it, no matter how silly he looked.

His hair was cut.

His face was made more pale with a chemical that burned.

His Celtist clothing replaced with the ridiculous uniform of a Southland soldier and he itched and scratched in places that had never before before been itchy or scratchy.

The boots pinched.

The stockings were hot and tight.

The gun belt on his hips dug into his sensitive area when he sat.

But the worst for Wren was the loss of his beard. His beautiful, soft beard that he'd been growing since he was but a boy was shaved off, just like Tenet's. He'd never seen his jaw as a man and didn't like the way it jutted out in hard angles. He didn't like that there was a cleft in his chin, something he had completely forgotten was there. He didn't like how cold it felt, how naked. And Lendyl and Takar laughing over his shoulder was not helping!

"You will shave as well," he ordered them in his humiliation.

Takar shook his head. "No."

Lendyl stopped his laughing and frowned. His beard was finally starting to really fill in like a man's and he was loathed to get rid of it. "Why should we need to shave as well? We are not pretending to be soldiers."

"There will be no shaving of this beard," Takar said firmly, tugging his thick whiskers and making Wren miss his own all the more.

"You will shave to teach you a lesson on...on...humility," Wren said, trying to sound official. He gave a firm nod. "Yes, and then you will meditate."

Lendyl sighed. "Yes, sir." He turned and walked out of the room to find the man with the clippers who took off Wren's beard.

"Brother, that was cruel," Takar said with a gleam in his eye.

Wren gave a little laugh. "It won't hurt the boy. Besides, he will have an easier time here without his whiskers. You would, too."

Takar leaned back against the wall and shrugged. "I cannot hide what I am. I never could. Let me keep my whiskers. I never ask for anything."

Wren looked at his younger brother, really looked at him for the first time in many years, and felt the old sadness inside once again. "Takar," he said gently. "There is no shame in who you are. You are a proud warrior of the Ogden septad. Your hands have slain our enemy and fed our people. You..."

"Enough, brother," Takar said in a low voice. "You need not build me up yet again. I know my own score." He stood up and brushed a hair off Wren's shoulder. "Besides, I ride with tanks. It is you who should be concerned. Are you certain you can do this?"

Takar had never questioned his brother openly before, and that alone spoke of his deep concern. Wren remembered when Takar was young, how gentle he was, how innocent. He remembered their fun as boys, splashing in the river together and playing tricks on other children. He remembered Takar's tears when their father died in battle, and his mother's harsh words over what she called his "womanly behavior". She accused him of dishonoring his fallen father with his outburst, and the words seemed to change Takar overnight. Wren wished he could go back in time and stop his mother's words before they were said. They were spoken in her pain. She lashed out at a child who would have been much better suited to the life of a male nurturer than a warrior. Wren suddenly wanted to know what an adult Takar would be like if his mother had let nature taken its course. He wondered if that Takar would have been happy.

He clamped his hand on Takar's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You know my skill with a bow, and you know that I can hunt. Rest assured that if the need comes to do either, I will not hesitate. You ride with tanks, and that is the bigger worry to me. Keep safe, Takar. There is no need to keep proving yourself to anyone." Takar's eyes darkened, but Wren was not finished. "Be honorable in battle, but remember that it is me who will mourn if you are lost." He squeezed Takar's shoulder harder, hoping the man knew that he was loved and hoping that would keep him from doing something stupid on the battlefield.

Takar cleared his throat and stepped away. He could not look his brother in the eye any longer and turned to stare out the door. He had no idea his brother knew him so well, then decided he should not be so surprised after all. Wren was everything he always wished he himself could be. Wren was strong and sure, where Takar always felt lost and scared. He grew his muscles big to be just like Wren and fought in battle with the single-minded focus of earning Wren's respect. He tried his hardest to be like Wren in other ways, and those failures with women just fueled his determination to strive for the same perfection that so easily came to his big brother. Had Wren shown the slightest bit of conceit at his own abilities, or just once cracked a smile of derision at Takar's efforts, Takar knew he would have loathed his brother and it would have made them enemies. But Wren was always kind, always patient, always understanding and so quick with praise that Takar never felt anything but love for the man. That Wren knew the whole time the inner turmoils Takar never spoke out loud was almost too much, and he felt a deep shame in spite of Wren's understanding. It was too much. He could not hear such things from the man he idolized, then watch that man ride away to a foreign land. He could not keep thinking of it or he'd break down right there.

So, Takar stared out the door. He let his mind go blank. He pushed away all the old hurts and bad feelings and focused on the artificial light dangling from the ceiling instead. He heard Wren sigh, then saw him put the ridiculous hat on out of the corner of his eye. He glanced in Wren's direction and couldn't help the snort of amusement that slipped out of his mouth.

Wren's frown deepened, making the look all the more inane and Takar laughed outright, the moment of uncomfortable seriousness broken. He thumped his brother on the shoulder. "I should have a picture of this moment to take out and look at during my sad days."

Wren couldn't help but smile. He tried very hard to keep his lips pressed in a firm line, but he truly did look idiotic. He let his grin spread and thumped his brother back. "Come. The time to leave is soon."

Wren had easily passed Krupkie's tests, much to the surprise of pretty much everyone on the base, save Scarab. She had seen him hunt difficult game. She had seen him in action, morphing himself to take on the characteristics of the various animals in order to score a large kill. And being in and among the warriors, she knew of his abilities at planning and executing an attack on a septad. He wasn't bragging when he told Tenet that there was a reason his enemies left him alone, he was simply telling the truth. It often struck Scarab that if he had been a Southlander, he most likely would have been in her line of work. What did surprise her was the level of shock from all of the others.

"They are Celtists, not morons," she said to Fratz when his jaw dropped to the floor when Wren spoke in the accent of a Southlander from the border region. He'd only had a couple hours with his trainer, and though his inflection was still a little off, the overall cadence and tone were correct for the area he was going to claim was his homeland.

"I never said they be dumb," Fratz insisted. "I be with the army twenty years and I haven't lost my accent yet." He shook his head and held his hand out to Wren. "Ya be findin' me impressed, Wren."

Lendyl held his hand self consciously over his naked chin. "You sound like a true Southlander to be sure," he agreed.

Takar gave a little laugh. "How would you know, whelp?"

"None of that," Wren said, continuing to use the Southland accent like his trainer suggested. The man had told Wren it would get easier the more he did it and the best way to perfect the accent would be to practice, practice, practice. "You are in charge now, Takar, and you will not abuse your power." He looked to Tenet, who nodded his approval at the way the sentence was structured.

"I do not understand why I must stay behind," Lendyl whined.

"You are not staying behind," Wren explained again carefully. "You will be part of the forward advance with the army. There will be glory for you still, just be patient. And in the meantime, meditate on why it is you seek such glory from the Mother."

Tenet made a face and shook his head. "Oh, don't mention the Mother."

"Right," Wren said, knowing that would probably be the hardest part of all. Even harder than walking in the horribly uncomfortable shoes.

"This isn't going to work," Scarab blurted out in her anxiety.

"This was your idea," said Major Krupkie, entering the transport hanger where the transport waited to take Tenet away. "I'll trade my man back in. Just say the word."

Scarab closed her mouth and shook her head. The time for Tenet to leave was almost on them and she battled her panic. The plan was good. The plan was solid. The plan was their best chance. She just had to keep repeating that to herself until she believed it. Scarab turned to Tenet. He was already dressed in simple Southland clothes, similar to the ones she'd seen him wearing in the photographs she'd studied before she took his bounty. It sent a shiver through her until she looked at his eyes. He was not that Tenet any longer. He was her Tenet. He would go there, get their daughter, and then wait for her to rescue him again. They'd been there before, they'd just have to do it again.

"Get in, keep your head straight, and wait for me," she told him for the hundredth time.

Tenet knew her fears. She had made love to him the night before with a terrified passion that told him all he needed to know. "I will wait for you. I will always wait for you to come rescue me from that awful place." He smiled and gently cupped her face. "You can drag my sorry ass out of there and I'll go with you just as willingly as I did last time."

Scarab wanted to believe him. She really, really did. She swallowed hard. "You have your com chip?"

"Yes."

"And the low frequency tracker?"

Tenet smiled in good-natured humor. "Yes, ma'am." He kissed her forehead. "I've got everything I need. All you have to do is track me down."

Scarab closed her eyes and leaned in, resting her forehead on his. She did not want him to go. She never imagined it would be so hard to be separated from him and already she felt the loss. "Keep your eyes open down there," she whispered. "You remember everything I've taught you."

"I will," he promised quietly.

"Tell Violet..." Scarab had to swallow the lump in her throat. "Tell Violet that it's almost time for the wraith to come."

Tenet gave a small, confused laugh. "Okay. I assume she'll know what that means?"

Scarab nodded, then pulled her head back to look Tenet in the eyes. "Tenet, you know I..."

Tenet put his finger on her mouth quickly. She was going to say she loved him. He knew it. "No," he whispered harshly. "Don't say it like it's your last chance to get it out." Scarab's eyes filled with tears. "Do not tell me you love me like you'll never see me again," he finished in broken words before pulling her to him and kissing her deeply. When he pulled away he wiped a tear off her cheek with a shaking thumb. "I love you, you stubborn, hard-headed woman. And you can finally say the damn words back when you find me. Okay?"

Scarab nodded numbly as Tenet turned and got into the waiting transport. She grabbed Wren by the arm as he passed. "That man is my very life's blood, Wren McKay," she said in the Celtist language of prayer, meaning it for Wren's ears alone. "So help me, if you lose my life's blood, I will not rest until I take yours."

Wren gripped Scarab's forearm in the fashion of a true warrior bond. "I vow my life for his," he answered firmly. "You have my word." Scarab looked at him in the eye for a moment before nodding and stepping away. He turned and waved goodbye to his brother in the warrior sign language and entered the transport. In seconds they were gone.

Scarab felt as if her heart was leaving with Tenet and fought the urge to run after the transport. Fratz stepped up beside her and placed his big hand on her shoulder. Too overcome to do anything else, she shocked the hell out of the man by leaning into him for support.

"We be gettin' him back, missy," Fratz assured her quietly.

Yes, she would. Scarab drew a deep breath and turned to Major Krupkie. "Let's go."

Major Krupkie nodded and motioned Scarab towards a ground transport. "Load up."

The mission to get Tenet back was far more dangerous than Tenet's part in the plan. Tenet would arrive at an outlying farm where the farmers would see Wren as a soldier and do as they'd been trained to do their whole lives and say nothing. They'd capitulate to the perceived authority, and Tenet would have an easy ride to the corn sector. Once there, they'd be met by a team of trained soldiers who would make sure that Tenet arrived where he was supposed to be for the big reveal at the proper time. Southland wasn't expecting it, so they wouldn't even be on the lookout. If they were intercepted, they had forged bounty paperwork that would pass muster under all but the most intense scrutiny, and with all the ado about the early harvests, there was little chance anyone would scrutinize so closely.

Scarab and her team would travel south in a similar fashion. However, by then, Tenet's presence would be known. There was no way to avoid that. The big plan hinged on Tenet's reintroduction to society. While Bradwin would know that something was fishy, he wouldn't know exactly what. He'd clamp down security, though, both along the border and especially around his corn compound. And while the Borderlanders knew nothing beat a good old fashioned human brain, they couldn't be so blind as to ignore the technological advantages Southland had. Scarab would need to know what she'd be up against.

Carlton hosted a test facility of sorts, a bunker deep under ground where the stolen tech smuggled over the border was examined, and where countermeasures were developed. Southland consistently underestimated Borderlanders' intelligence, and they were bound and determined not to have the same blind spot. The Borderlands soldiers preferred to fight with guns and tanks. But that didn't mean they couldn't whip out a guided laser if they had to.

"You'll get the afternoon and night to train," Krupkie said to Scarab, Lendyl, and Takar. Though the two warriors would be part of the army advance and not on the ground with Scarab, they did need to learn how to shoot more than a bow, and Scarab talked Krupkie into letting them join her in training.

Scarab nodded. "It'll be enough for me."

"I'll see they get the full trainin', missy," Fratz assured her. Though he wanted to accompany Scarab and the extraction team, he knew that type of mission was not his forte. He was very bad at sneaking. He was, however, excellent at charging. He'd lead the advance of tanks at the very front of the line with his new warrior compatriots by his side.

The transport turned and started up the side of a hill, then stopped at a large door. In seconds the door began to lift and as soon as the roof of the transport was clear, the driver pushed forward into an enormous tunnel that turned sharply downward. Lendyl, unused to travel in such a large vehicle, clamped his hand over his mouth and begged his stomach to stop flip-flopping inside. He would be a poor warrior indeed if he lost his breakfast on the floor!

The transport slowed when the floor leveled out and then stopped in front of another large door. Krupkie instructed everyone to exit the vehicle, then gave instructions to the driver to wait for her. "I'll bring you in and leave you in Gundersson's hands." A guard came forward and spoke with Krupkie for a moment before giving a wave. A motor sounded and then the door began to open. Krupkie motioned for everyone to follow, and walked through.

The group was stunned silent at the room they entered. It was unlike anything the warriors had seen, and even Scarab was impressed. The room was an enormous, large cavern in the very base of the mountain that housed what appeared to be some gigantic laboratory. There were machines that hummed as people pressed buttons. Soldiers were bent over tables, hard at work on various projects, and the room was lined with shelves, cubbies, nooks and crannies filled with all sorts of weapons and gadgets. In the very center of the room was a large cage, inside which someone stood and shot a laser-type weapon at a target. It was as if Scarab's fondest wish had come true.

"Whoa," she said, unable to think of anything else.

Major Krupkie's mouth turned up in a half smile. "Whoa is right. It took us twelve years to build this facility. Only one like it in the nation. This is where we research and develop weapons and counter measures. A soldier's wet dream."

"A hunter's, too," Scarab admitted, craning her head around to look at the weapons that lined the wall. "What I wouldn't have given for one of these..."

"Don't touch that!" came a booming voice from across the room. Scarab turned to see Lendyl's hand inches from a huge turret-style weapon.

"Lendyl!" she hissed.

"Krupkie, what did I tell you about bringing your brutes in here unannounced screwing with my..."

Scarab turned slowly as the man spoke until his words trailed off. She stared at him, unable to believe her eyes for a moment before she threw herself into his arms. "Weevil!"

"Holy shit! As I live and breathe!" He laughed and squeezed her tightly. "It's my sweetheart finally come back to me! They said they had someone for me to train. I never dreamed it was you!"

Scarab pulled away and grinned at him. She hadn't heard a peep about him since he helped her and Tenet cross the border. "How in the hell did you end up here?"

Weevil ran a hand through his crazy, mostly white hair and gave her a wry smile. "I seemed to have had a certain bug infestation that could not be ignored. It left me with few options."

He meant for her to feel bad, but she just couldn't. "Hey, you're lucky to be alive."

Weevil scoffed, torn between annoyance and amusement. "No thanks to you!"

Takar looked between the two with concern. The man was clearly someone Mrs. Lorne knew, yet he was taking liberties with a married woman, and friend or not, that did not sit right with Takar. He nodded towards the man's hand that had found its way to Mrs. Lorne's behind. "You will remove your hand now," Takar said with all the authority he felt Wren himself would have delivered.

Weevil was struck dumb by the big warrior. His mouth went dry as he took in the huge muscles, the large, untamed beard, the fierce look in the man's eyes. For the first time in too many years to count, Weevil was rendered speechless. He took his hand away from Scarab's ass and swallowed hard, trying to regain his senses.

Scarab lifted an eyebrow. So Weevil had his eye on Takar, did he? She shook her head. Hey, at least it would keep his hands off her. "So what are you doing with the army, Weevil? I never pegged you for a military man."

Weevil tore his gaze away from the warrior and cleared his throat. "As you said, sweet cheeks, I'm no soldier. But they made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"Mr. Valance was allowed to live if he worked for us," Major Krupkie confirmed.

"See why I couldn't refuse?" Weevil's eyes flashed with a hint of his old mischief. "Besides," he spread his arms wide. "Look at this! It's quite an upgrade from my old lab, and not a single damn window in the place!"

"He's got a thing with windows," she told Fratz.

Fratz had met the one who called himself Weevil several times, and none of those interactions were good memories. The man was clearly crazy, and Fratz often secretly questioned Krupkie's decision to give him free reign of the research facility. However, in the years he'd been running the department, they'd produced many new weapons and instituted several new policies that would admittedly serve them well. The man had merit. That still didn't make him any easier to be around. "We can stand around yakkin' or we can train," Fratz said simply, breaking up reunion time.

"I will leave them in your hands, Mr. Valance," Krupkie said. "Fratz, a word?" Fratz followed the Major out as Weevil lead the others on a small tour of the facility.

"Look at these machines!" he said excitedly. "They all go pop and whiz and whir and produce such fabulous contraptions of mass destruction."

"What does this one do?" Scarab asked, pointing to a large machine that three people worked on.

Weevil shrugged. "Dunno. We just got it in. We're gonna get it up and running and look." Takar scoffed and Weevil turned to him. "You have a problem with my methods, Mr...?"

"Takar," he said, introducing himself gruffly. "It is a foolish man who will take such risks."

Weevil's eyes danced with excitement. "Ah, but that is my job. I take the risks to keep the rest of you people safe."

"What if that machine kills when you get it running?"

Weevil shrugged. "Then we turn it off and reconfigure it." He sighed when the warrior opened his mouth to speak again. "It's a production machine we sneaked out of a defunct bot factory near the southern border, Takar. It's not a weapon in itself. What, specifically, it produces, that's the unknown. But you can bet your beautiful ass I fully intend to find out!"

Takar was stunned by the man's words. Beautiful ass? He looked away, glad Wren had let him keep his beard when he felt his cheeks burn. What a peculiar man! He would surely meditate on the interaction later.

Weevil led them past rows of freshly produced weapons. "Our capabilities are limited, and the army's building another facility, strictly for production. Until then, I've got my little worker bees busy around the hive. And now, we get to have ourselves a war!" He clapped his hands excitedly, then stopped and snapped his fingers, calling for a helper. When the soldier appeared, Weevil ordered him to prepare a shooting chamber.

Scarab watched Weevil and was surprised to see how much the man had changed. He was still eccentric, that much was clear by the wild hair and the mismatched shoes. He still peppered his speech with the ribald comments she learned to expect, only now, they didn't carry any weight to them. They were simply words, not promises or threats. He seemed older, far older than the six year gap should have made him. Perhaps it was the weight of responsibility. Perhaps it was the heat she and Tenet had brought down on him. Whatever it was, something had changed in Weevil and Scarab didn't know how to take him anymore.

Fratz returned, joining the group silently until Weevil started pulling out weapons. Weevil used military expressions that Fratz knew the warriors would never have heard before and he acted as an interpreter of sorts. Takar was silently pleased that the soldier said what his pride would not allow him to ask, and paid careful attention to the instructions. Lendyl looked confused, and Takar knew he'd have to go over it with him again away from the hearing of the others. When the explanations were finished for three weapons, Weevil instructed one of his people to show the warriors and Fratz to the firing range.

"This little desert bug knows the ins and outs of these guns. I've got something special for her. You go along." When he saw Takar look to Scarab for permission, he shooed his hands at them. "Go on, kiddies. Go play. Mummy needs to look over her new toys. Scoot."

Fratz guided the warriors to the center cage and trained them, allowing Scarab and Weevil their own time.

"Jesus, kid. What the hell did you get yourselves into?" Weevil hissed as soon as the group was out of hearing range.

"Same old," Scarab said, taking a seat in the little cubicle Weevil called his headquarters.

Weevil sighed. "You just couldn't stay hidden. After all that work I did erasing you..." He shook his head. "Guess you're not really to blame. Jace was pretty determined."

"Was," Scarab said pointedly, giving Weevil a look that told the story.

Weevil whistled low. He always knew Scarab was good. But to take out Jace? "Damn girl. Well, one enemy down, about three million to go."

Scarab nodded. "Take them out one by one. That's the plan. I'm glad we've got some unexpected friends along the way, though."

Weevil got a bashful look. "Aw, shucks," he said in an affected manner that hinted at his old playfulness. "You're gonna make me blush, ma'am."

Scarab smiled. "I wonder if we'll find any more along the way?" she hinted hopefully.

Weevil knew was asking about Hark and Enna, the two hunters who helped Scarab and Tenet reach Weevil safely when they ran. Clever girl, he thought. She had no idea what had become of them, and didn't know if it was safe to ask. Weevil was pleased to know her life as a mother hadn't completely rotted her brain. "I don't think so. A lot of contracts were canceled by the league after you left and many hunters were offered positions south of the desert."

Hark and Enna were alive and well, and that's all she needed to know. A six year old fear released from inside her. Hark and Enna helped train her. They were the closest thing she had to friends for her years of hunting and the guilt that she may have lead to their deaths often weighed heavily on her when she'd let herself stop and think about them. They lived. They were safe. Scarab shot Weevil a smile.

Weevil looked Scarab over. She was older by years, but she looked younger somehow. It took a few minutes for it to dawn on him that she was happy, that she had been having a good life. Her eyes were tired. Her muscles were tense. But the past six years had been very good to her, and very good for her. She was a young woman, and she finally looked like one. He wished he could be a fly on the wall of her home. He simply could not imagine her in any sort of domestic role. He felt that familiar paternal tug towards her that he never felt for anyone else, even his own random children.

"I'd chitchat about old times and catch up on new, but we've really got to get you prepped. You look soft," he said.

Scarab's look turned challenging. "Soft? I'll have you know I can run down a deer."

Weevil cackled. "And what are deer using for weapons these days, hm? Running's one thing. Ducking is more important. You wouldn't believe how far some of this shit has come. They developed a new electromagnetic system that's positively blowing up the weapons tech, pun definitely intended. If you're going to rescue that hunk of a man of yours, you're going to need my help."

As Weevil had said, a breakthrough in electromagnetic technology had created an entirely new class of weapons and Scarab spent the afternoon learning the new ropes. The biggest advantage of the weapons was they they could either kill or simply incapacitate the victim, depending on the settings on the gun and type of shot used. From what the Borderlands spies had learned, the Southland military was training with the stun option, not the kill.

"Don't get it in your head they've gone weak, though," Weevil warned Scarab. "Once I roll out The Beast, I think they'll change their settings out of fear."

Scarab quirked an eyebrow. "The Beast?"

Weevil's face spread in a wide, slightly maniacal grin. "Oh baby you've never seen anything like it."

"Is it a weapon?"

Weevil clutched his chest dramatically. "Four years I've spent tweaking, coaxing, and honing and you call the love of my life a mere weapon? For shame, lady. For shame!"

"I thought I was the love of your life," Scarab said wryly.

Weevil grinned again. "Jealous of a little metal, sweetheart? Well, you should be. You could screw what? Five, maybe six people at once if you get creative?" Scarab couldn't help the blush that creeped up her neck. Even after all the years she knew him, Weevil still had the ability to embarrass her with just a few words. "The Beast, she can screw thousands at once!" He cackled at his own cleverness, and Scarab sighed and shook her head. Perhaps he hadn't changed that much after all.

"So what does The Beast do?"

"Wins," Weevil said firmly. "Now, back to what you need to know."

After Weevil crammed so much information into Scarab that she was sure she'd never remember it all, he sent her off to learn how to use the new weaponry with the other warriors. Unlike those who'd be involved with the forward offensive, Scarab's weapons were compact, easy to carry and hide, but difficult to aim. She would not give up, though, and soon her old skills with a handgun began to return. By the time her hand tingled with the excess electricity that recoiled from a shot, it was late evening and Fratz called for them to break for a few hours to eat and rest.

"Makes you all tingly inside, doesn't it?" Weevil asked as Scarab walked past, shaking her hand.

Scarab shook her arm and clenched her fist to try and get proper feeling back. "It's weird. I feel both numb and over-stimulated at the same time."

Weevil waggled his eyebrows. "Over-stimulated, you say? I've got the cure for that." He said the words, but the amusement didn't reach his eyes. Once again, Scarab got the feeling that his heart just wasn't into it.

She shook her head and gave him a smile. "Thanks for the offer, but I'd probably zap your dick right about now."

Weevil threw his head back and laughed, and Scarab gave a small salute before trotting off to follow Lendyl to the small mess hall at the end of the huge cavern. The sound of a shot brought Weevil's attention back to the shooting galleries and he noticed the big warrior, Takar, was still working hard. He moved to sit on the rail of the cages to watch the shots from behind. Though the long weapon was new to the warrior, he was obviously well trained in handling other weapons. Weevil watched as he drew the gun to his shoulder, carefully sighted down the barrel, and drew and held a deep breath. When the gun went off, the warrior stood frozen for a second, then let out a loud swear that made Weevil chuckle.

Takar whipped around at the laughing. He thought he was alone. "It is unwise to laugh at a Celtist warrior," he said in his most threatening voice to hide his own frustration and humiliation. He simply could not get the hang of the unfamiliar scope, and no matter what he tried, his shots went far left.

Weevil didn't seem fazed by the man's deep, tough voice or dark and brooding scowl. He hopped off the fence and entered the cage, pointing to the gun. "I notice you're a southpaw."

Takar's frown deepened. "I do not know the meaning of southpaw," he said, upset that he had to admit it for the conversation to continue.

"Lefty," Weevil said, wiggling the fingers of his left hand. "You favor your left hand."

Takar nodded.

"These digital scopes are preset for righties." He held his hand out for the gun and Takar reluctantly handed it over. Weevil pressed a couple buttons, looked through the display, then nodded and passed the gun back to Takar. "There. That should be better, even though you've been making kill shots regardless."

Takar glanced in the scope then turned to face the targets, very aware that Weevil still stood close. He willed his muscles to relax, then tensed, drew, and fired quickly, as if he were in battle. The shot was clean through the very center of the target and he felt a flood of relief. He felt validated.

Weevil whistled. "Nice shot, honey. I'd hate to be the one that pissed you off."

Takar turned and looked at Weevil, unsure of how to handle the man. "I...thank you for the assistance."

Weevil studied the large warrior. Up close, the man was even more intimidating, and yet Weevil felt no fear, only an old excitement he thought he'd never experience again. He tipped his head. "It is my pleasure. If there's any other way I can assist you, just let me know."

There was a twinkle and a look on Weevil's face that stirred something inside, and Takar instantly became uncomfortable. He took a small step back, and instantly cursed himself. He was a warrior, and yet something made him retreat. From what? The small man? One small, insignificant man. He was a warrior, a fierce defender of Ogden! He would not run from anyone.

Weevil watched the play of emotions in the warrior's eyes and was even more intrigued. "You don't have to be nervous. I won't bite. Unless you want me to."

Takar's eyes went wide and he decided he _would_ run away. He turned and placed the weapon on the bench, then pushed past the man who set him on edge. He would meditate. He would ask the Mother for guidance. He would pray until his head was clear and he could think about the mission instead of the odd man who wanted to bite him. He was a warrior and he had no time for such thoughts. He would pray until his head was clear and his body was calm. And if praying did not work, he would simply have to spend the night shooting until his body had no choice but to cool off and give in to exhaustion.

Chapter 16

Tenet wasn't afraid as he sat in the air ship. The realization shocked him to realize it, but even then he couldn't make himself feel fear. The trip to the corn sector was incredibly easy. As Krupkie had predicted, Southland was busy with the early harvest crops and paid very little attention to a well dressed man and his official looking escort. A swipe of the identification card Krupkie gave Wren was all it took for them to gain comfortable seating on an air ship that carried both cargo and passengers, and no one even glanced their way in the crowded cabin.

Tenet took the time to study the people. While he never noticed the differences when he lived among them, he could now tell who lived at what station in life simply by their looks. The people who most resembled his new Ogden self, those in the lower working classes, dressed simply with their hair undone and their skin dark from the work in the sun. The next level, people with office jobs or tradesmen who pushed pencils, not garden hoes, were dressed finer. Their clothing was clearly more expensive, though still lacked delicate adornments. Their skin was much lighter, and their hair was coiffed in ridiculous copies of the upper class.

As Tenet stared at someone he was certain had to be some type of banker or accountant, he could almost feel the desperation of the man to be better than he was, to have more. Though Tenet didn't doubt a pretty penny was spent on the clothing and hair, it still feel far short of the opulence the truly wealthy displayed. Tenet felt bad for the man. Clearly he tried very hard, and yet, Tenet knew that no matter what the man did, he'd always fall short. The upper crust would always view him as a joke, their personal punchline.

Tenet was the only one dressed in the manner of the upper caste. Perhaps that was why no one questioned them. His hair was coiffed, his white linens starched until they all but stood on their own. He wore the hard, carved wooden shoes that were polished with bees wax until they were shiny, and Krupkie had even managed to come up with a pocket watch that dangled on a jeweled chain. As he looked around the transport, he mentally added up the cost of everyone else's garments, jewelry, and shoes and knew that his one outfit was worth more than everything of their combined. It made him sad, and sadder still when he caught the envious look of the banker. He could see the dreams in the man's face to own any single piece of his outfit, and he had to remember himself before he gave something away.

The air ship wasn't one of the faster models, but they had a favorable wind and reached the designated drop point in the corn sector by late afternoon. They were to meet a ground team at a hotel, then wait for further information. They met their team, three others dressed in finery like Tenet, and one dressed in a more military style like Wren, and checked into the hotel with invitations to the Leader's Ball. The receptionist assured them it was to be the harvest celebration of the season.

Tenet quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? It tends to be a droll event. Personally I enjoy the Harvest Gala far more."

The man behind the desk gasped. "Then you haven't hear?"

"Heard what?" Tenet asked casually.

"Well, I shouldn't be saying this," the man said, looking around quickly. He leaned in. "I've heard that there's going to be something big." When Tenet simply lifted his eyebrow, the man continued. "Huge. Mega. Mark my words, something is going down, and you're lucky to have these tickets. People have been scrambling for the past week to try and scare some up."

"For a simple address?" Tenet asked, relieved that his voice was so calm when inside his heart raced.

"I think it's going to be more than that for sure. The press has been hovering like gnats and some very big celebrities are suddenly clamoring to get invited." The man entered their information into his keyboard as he spoke, then pressed a button. "Trust me. You don't want to miss it."

A bot appeared beside them and Tenet had to school himself to keep from jumping. The last bots he had seen had been trying to kill him. It took a second for him to remember that most of the bots in the world were used for service jobs, not killing.

"Luggage sirs," the bots automaton voice said through a speaker. The group placed their bags on the hooks. "This way, sirs." They followed behind as the bot lead them through the main lobby and into an elevator.

Tenet noticed how nervous Wren was. Though he hid his emotions well, Tenet could feel the tension radiate off his friend and he realized just then how ill prepared Wren really was. Sure, he could speak like a Southlander. But everything was new to him, from the ride in the air ship to even the lift in the elevator. He had done well thus far, and Tenet hoped he could just keep it up.

The elevator doors opened and the bot floated out, waiting in the hall for the group to follow. Wren's eyes took in the new hallway and he wondered what kind of magic he'd just been through. Tenet was not nervous. The others in the group were not nervous. He swallowed his own nerves and followed their lead, creating a long mental list of topics for his evening meditation.

The bot led them into a large suite of rooms. Tenet was surprised Krupkie had managed to get them such a suite right at the start of the harvest celebrations in the center of the corn sector. He knew he could not have done any better even when he had his money, and he asked one of the men with them about it once the bot was gone.

"This operation has been in the works for a long time," the man said quietly. "Now, rest. I'll contact HQ and let you know where we go from here."

Tenet nodded his agreement, then went through the rooms looking for Wren. He found him sitting in the prayer position in front of a large window that overlooked the marbled buildings the rich and famous of Southland used as their playground in the Southland Winter. Tenet sat on the floor next to Wren and took in the sight.

"This is your homeland," Wren said simply.

"I didn't mean to interrupt your meditation..."

Wren held up a hand. "Who can pray? There are no sisters, there is only rock. I wonder if the Mother exists here." Though he instantly felt bad for it, he said how he felt and would not take it back.

"Maybe not," Tenet admitted.

"And yet there is magic."

Tenet quirked an eyebrow. "Magic?"

Wren nodded. "That box that brought us here. We entered in one place, we left in another."

Tenet tried hard not to laugh. "It's not magic, it's called an elevator. It's just a box that's pulled up a shaft with cables and gears." He shook his head. "You won't find any magic here. These people don't believe in magic." He sighed heavily. "They don't believe in anything. I'm sorry to bring you here, Wren."

Wren frowned. "Do not apologize. I am not sorry. It is never a bad thing to learn the ways of others." He turned his gaze back out to the city. "And my wife, she will have a fine time calling me out as a liar." He let himself smile. "I will have many heated nights by the fire with her laughter when we return! But you will back me up, my friend."

Tenet smiled warmly. "Yes, I will."

Wren gave a firm nod. "That is all I ask."

They stared out at the city for awhile as the afternoon turned to dusk. The lights began to flicker, lights of all colors the likes of which Wren had never seen and he had to admit that even though there were no sisters, and even if the Mother was not part of this place, there was a certain beauty about it that could not be denied. If he could show his wife, he knew she would enjoy the sight. She had always been drawn to bright shiny things, and in front of him sat an entire village that glistened and glowed.

"It is beautiful," Wren said simply.

"It's all fake," Tenet said in return. "It's all just lights to hide the ugliness."

"You do not miss this, then?"

Tenet gave a bitter laugh. "You're kidding, right?" He shook his head. "Not a bit. I miss the trees I see out my back door. I miss the brook that we fish in. I miss the smell of my woodsmoke and the feeling of my wool sheets in my bed." He shot Wren a look. "I already had enough doubt from Scarab, Wren. I don't need you thinking that I'll suddenly be nostalgic, too."

"I did not mean..."

The leader of Krupkie's spies walked in. "It's been confirmed by our people in Bradwin's team. Tonight is the night as we suspected. They've mobilized the child." He looked at Tenet. "This is it. You ready to see your daughter?"

"Hell yes," Tenet said, jumping up. "What do we do?"

"Calm down. Your biggest job here is to simply keep calm. No matter what happens, keep calm. You won't see us again, but we'll be there. If there's trouble, grab your kid and duck and we'll handle the rest."

Tenet nodded. "Okay. Keep calm." He tried to run a hand through his hair, but it was hard as a shell and the man in charge cringed.

"The second rule is not to break cover. You want them to believe you missed the hair gunk and fancy duds. Stop wiggling in the starchy pants, don't try and ruffle your hair, and for god's sake stop picking your wedgies!"

Tenet held up his hands, feeling his blush and laughing at himself at the same time. "Okay, okay. Sorry. I forgot just how uncomfortable this shit is."

The man gave a rueful smile. "Yes, I know. I had the, uh, privilege of wearing the garb myself a few years ago before I went even deeper under cover and I can sympathize. But, they won't. Remember you want this. You want to be all spiffied up and dapper. You had a lot of years practice. Stop fighting it and let it come back to you."

"Right. Got it. Suck it up."

"Exactly. Now, the banquet's happening at the Tavern Green across the street. We can't let you in the front door. There are too many people who could ID you. We'll get you in the back through the kitchens. Your contact there is Carlo."

Tenet nodded. "Carlo. Got it."

The man pointed at Wren. "You're his official escort. You got your paperwork on you?"

Wren frowned. "I have no paper."

The man sighed. "Oh come on! You two are killing me! Paperwork. It's an old saying down here. You got your com chip?" Wren blushed but nodded. "Good. Guard that. Show it only if you have to."

"I'll speak for him publicly. Leave it to me," Tenet assured the man.

"I'm trying but you're not making it easy for me to trust you."

Tenet had to admit that from the man's point of view, years of planning for an entire nation rested on his shoulders. He had to remind himself he and Violet were not really the story, only a chapter. Tenet drew himself up regally, calling on all his years of presenting himself to the public exactly as his father wanted. When he spoke, his voice was casually haughty, and any trace of his Borderlands self disappeared. "You speak above your station. Do I need to file a report to your superiors?"

The man grinned. "Now that's more like it! Keep it up. Be the asshole and we might just get through this." He led them to the main room where the rest of the team had donned clothing ranging from high class to one uniformed laborer, and Tenet felt better. He knew they'd mix among both the crowd of guests and the staff of the event and he'd have coverage on multiple fronts.

Tenet was to be brought to the event by the man dressed as a laborer. Before he left, the group wished him well and assured him once again that all he had to do was get to his daughter. "Do as they say, but do it how you're expected. If you were an attitude-filled little shit before you left, then play that up. If you were an easy going pushover, then be that again. They want their kid back, make sure that's what they get."

Tenet and Wren followed the laborer out the back entrance of the hotel and to the kitchen entrance of the Tavern Green. The man knocked in a series of raps that were not accidental, and after a moment the door opened and a short, dark haired man ushered them in.

"Holy shit I can't believe it," he said, staring up at Tenet. He stuck his hand out. "I'm Carlo."

Tenet shook it. "Carlo, nice to meet you."

Carlo frowned. "Sir, you already know me. I worked in your wheat kitchen for years."

Tenet felt a flood of shame. He had absolutely no recollection of the man at all.

Carlo didn't look offended. No one looked at the help, and he didn't take it personally. "Relax, I didn't mean to give you a complex. I was only saying it to let you know you can trust me." Someone came around the corner and Carlo barked at the man that was dressed as a laborer to get back to work. Then he loudly apologized to Tenet for the bad service. "I understand if you should need to dock me pay, Sir." He gave Tenet a wide eyed look, and Tenet knew he was to play along.

"I do not want anything to mar such an evening. I will let it pass this time. However, a letter of contrition from your supervisor will be expected."

Carlo had to hold in his grin. He always liked the young Bradwin, and he and his wife truly did feel bad when the boy vanished. However, it wasn't until he was fired by Mrs. Bradwin that he began to nurse a suspicion about the circumstances. Society had been rife with gossip, and even more so after the rushed wedding of the Bradwin girl. He always knew there was something amok in the leader's household, and when he was quietly approached to help have a hand in uncovering the truth, he ignored his wife's dire warnings and gladly pitched in.

"Yes, sir," Carlo said, as if he would truly face the wrath of an angry boss.

"He's gone," Wren said quietly.

Carlo looked relieved. "Okay, here's the deal. In about three minutes, the big govers will start to arrive. I know my staff," he whispered. "They'll be crammed at the doors trying to get a look. Word has spread that something big is going down, and even though they should damn well be working, they'll be gawking. That'll give me time to slip you two down an old service corridor. It opens in the center wall of the ballroom. You wait there for the signal, then you just walk out and do your thing."

Tenet waited for more instructions, but when none came he frowned. "That's it?"

"What do you mean, that's it? Ain't it enough?"

"What's the 'thing' I'm supposed to do?"

The voices of other workers made Carlo grab Tenet's arm and pull him deeper into the corner. "How the hell should I know? Look, I'm putting my ass on the line here as it is. I told them I'd get you in, and that's what I'm doing. Shit, they're here early!" He tugged Tenet down a small hallway and pointed down the dark path. "I gotta go. Just follow this on around the circle." He was about to leave, then turned back and quickly shook Tenet's hand. "Good luck, kid. I always liked you and I'm glad you're not dead. Now, go!"

"Go," echoed Wren, looking at a large group of workers who were getting closer to the hallway.

Tenet turned and pushed his way through the cobwebs of the very narrow, curved hallway. It seemed to go on forever, though Tenet wondered if that was simply because he was finally feeling afraid. He groped in the dark and was about to turn and ask Wren if he thought they went too far when he bumped into the end of the hall and felt a door handle jam into his hip.

"What do we do now?" he hissed to Wren.

"Shh," Wren said. He could hear murmuring and leaned his ear on the door to listen. "I hear voices."

"Should we open the door?"

Wren didn't know. "It would be foolish if they are all standing just on the other side."

"Does it sound like they are?" Tenet asked, leaning over Wren's shoulder to try and hear.

"No," Wren said. He needed to make a decision, and ordered Tenet to step back. He crouched low, then turned the handle of the door and was happy to find that it opened inward. He cracked it open and stared out at the backs of legs. He stood and peered into a crowd. There were so many people and all of them had their attention to the opposite part of the room. He turned to Tenet. "We are at the back of a crowd. We would be unseen."

Tenet nodded his head. "Then let's go."

Wren eased the door open and they slowly stepped forward. They entered the large, round ballroom under the legs of a huge statue. Wren knew it was good cover, and if they stood very still, they could blend with the background. He tried to whisper as much to Tenet, but the man's attention was already across from them, riveted to a large, brightly lit stage. "They aren't here yet," Tenet whispered.

Wren placed his hand on Tenet's arm to calm him. "Easy," he said. He felt Tenet relax and take a breath. Wren looked around, and after a moment spotted two of their team members at the base of the stage and felt better. They would not be alone. No matter what, the soldiers were keeping their word so far.

All at once, the murmurs in the room got very loud. There were flashes of light, followed by loud music. Tenet turned with the group towards the door and stood on his tip toes, struggling to see. "Wren, I don't see..." His words died in his throat when the crowd was parted by armed soldiers and his father lead his family through the ballroom. His father strode forward with purpose. He waved to the crowd, and then he moved to walk up the steps of the stage. Tenet could see his mother, then, and he gasped. Had he ever realized how young she was before? How great the age gap was between his parents? She looked young enough to have been Bradwin's daughter, not his wife. And then the crowd grew silent as Irmara Bradwin stopped in the center of the room and pulled a child forward into the bright lights. Not any child. His child. Only Wren's firm grasp stopped Tenet from pushing his way to her.

"Not yet," Wren whispered harshly, shaken himself by the way young Miss Violet looked. He held firm, even when Tenet let out a small sob. "Calm," he said in a soothing voice. "Wait."

Tenet swallowed down the panic, the fear, the relief and the anger. He knew Wren was right. He needed to give them time to introduce her. He needed to let the crowd know who she was. There needed to be no mistaking that Violet Lorne was real and was Bradwin's own granddaughter. Otherwise it would be a simple thing to sweep her under the rug, to make some excuse, to continue the lies.

So Tenet simply watched. It killed him to force his feet to stay put and watch his baby squirm under the bright lights. His mother held Violet's hand tightly, and he saw her say something. Violet made a little curtsy to the crowd and looked down at her feet. His jaw clenched and every fiber of his being wanted to yell at his daughter to raise her eyes and be proud. Don't look down! You look them in your eye like your mother would! He felt Wren's hand tighten on his arm and knew the warrior was feeling the same. They watched as Violet was then lead up the stairs to sit at the banquet table behind his father's podium.

Bradwin watched the crowd carefully, those he could see under the glaring lights, anyway. They were beyond curious, as he expected. He'd spent the few days letting little hints leak out to the press, and as soon as he arrived at Tavern Green, he knew the gossip mill had the people churned up better than he could have imagined. The clicking of the press cameras was almost as constant as the hum of whispering that echoed around the crammed room. Irmara gave him a little look as she passed that said he had done well, and she took her seat with Violet behind him. He waited for the people to quiet down and cleared his throat.

"We are gathered tonight to officially begin the nationwide harvest season," he said, in his standard greeting. He waited for people to applaud, and couldn't help feeling amused that tonight's applause was quick and fierce and impatient. Normally the ball was a fairly boring affair, as balls went. It was business more than pleasure, usually filled with politicians and their families and very little press. It was a formality, a holdover from the old days when the harvest season wasn't declared by weather prediction, but by the Exalted Leader himself. Though the Leader hadn't been the one to make the call on when a rancher could begin to reap for many generations, the ball was a tradition.

"So without any preamble, I open the season." He waited for the applause, then cleared his throat. "I suppose you were expecting my usual long-winded introduction." The crowd tittered as they knew he expected. "But as you can see, this year is slightly different from our normal gatherings." He took a deep breath and told himself to remember to choke up, to get teary, to pause for effect as Udin had instructed.

"As you all well know, almost six years ago to the day, our nation suffered a truly tragic event. The passing of my only son."

Tenet folded his arms across his chest and rolled his eyes. "Some things never change," he said in a low voice to Wren.

"It was a difficult time for us all," Bradwin continued. "Tenet was loved. Tenet was our hope for the future. To have him taken from us so young..." he shook his head and sniffed. "It was almost too much to bear."

Tenet watched Violet. She glared at her grandfather's back and he had to fight another urge to run to her and scoop her up.

"What we did not know at the time was that Tenet's disappearance was no accident. In recent months, we received a tip that he was, in fact, the victim of foul play!" He paused, telling himself not to grin as the crowd gasped and whispered furiously over the news. "Please!" he said, holding his hand up. "I assure you there is more to the story." He waited for people to settle down. "My son was abducted by the heathens that live across the border in the Badlands." The crowd grew loud, but Bradwin pressed on, knowing when to whip the frenzy further. "He was taken as a slave and has spent the past six years in abject servitude to a band of outlaws!" He slammed his hand on the podium and stood back to watch the pandemonium.

Tenet watched Violet's eyes burn with hatred. She wasn't believing the lies and he felt absolutely buoyant inside. They weren't winning. They couldn't change her. He stepped forward and Wren held him back.

"Not yet," Wren said, speaking up to be heard over the crowd. "She hasn't been introduced!"

Tenet stepped back and clenched his hands at his sides. He had to be patient. Just another minute. He could do it.

Bradwin held his hand up once again. "There's more!" The crowd settled down, everyone leaning forward not wanting to miss one juicy detail. "After we got the word, I myself went into that unruly land. In a top secret mission of rescue, we attempted to free my son from his bonds. Although we were unable to find him, we did find someone just as valuable." He stepped back slightly and motioned for Imrara to bring the girl forward.

Violet stood and stepped forward with her grandmother, just like she practiced. Her grandfather was introducing her and though she tried to keep her head up and her eyes straight like she'd been instructed, the lights were painfully bright and she squinted in the glare. All the people were pushing closer to the stage and there were sharp flashes that hurt her eyes. Her grandfather said the new name she was supposed to go by, and all the people cheered and looked like they were going to grab her. She tried to take a step backward away from their hands, but her grandmother was digging her nails into her arm so hard that Violet dared not try to move again. She knew the next step would be the collar, and she didn't want another burn. It would make her cry, and there was no way she would let all these people see her cry. She bit the inside of her lip and squinted into the group as best as she could.

"Violet is our hope. Violet is our constant reminder of what those barbarians took from us!" Bradwin was very, very pleased. Rarely did life allow him a perfect moment, and he knew this would be one he'd savor for years to come. The crowd cheered. The crowd cried. They ate the story up and already Violet was in their hearts. True, she could be standing straighter and looking a little less unhappy. However, that might just sell her story even more, he had to admit. Yes, it was a perfect moment and he stood at the podium basking in the glory of it all.

Violet's head started to hurt. She wanted to ask her grandmother how long she would have to stand there, but she was told she absolutely could not open her mouth at the ball and she planned on doing her best to follow that rule. So she bit her lip and tried to find a shadow to look at. She would find a shadow and stare at it and the light wouldn't hurt so much. Her eyes went to the large statue across the room under the bank of lights. They were shining in her direction, not at the floor, and she let her eyes go down away from the brightness. There were two men standing under the statue in the shadows away from the crowd. They did not push forward and try to get past the soldiers to grab her like the other people and that alone made them stand out. Violet blinked and squinted.

"She sees you, Tenet," said Wren in warning. Instead of stepping back into the shadows, Tenet moved forward. He simply could not wait any longer. The time had come and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

Violet's little heart began to beat faster. She knew that man. She knew them both! His hair was silly and his clothes were stupid but she knew who it was. She blinked once more to make sure and as soon as he smiled she was certain. "Da!" she screamed. Before she could stop herself, she ripped her arm from her grandmother's clutches and was halfway down the stairs before the shock collar buzzed, the pain instantly dropping her to the floor.

Tenet watched his daughter crumple and looked up into his father's eyes. Bradwin was stunned. For once, he truly outfoxed the old man and Tenet knew that later he would allow himself to gloat over the look in his father's eye. For the moment, though, he could feel nothing but rage. The lights swung to shine on him, and the crowd parted as he slowly and deliberately made his way to the front of the room.

Violet was clutching the necklace she wore, obviously in pain, but she still managed to smile when he approached. Tenet bent down and scooped her up in his shaking arms and held her tight. She started to sob and he had to will his own tears away as he kissed her head over and over. "It's okay, baby," he whispered. "I'm here."

Violet's little body heaved with all the pain and anguish and fear and sadness she felt over the last weeks. "I knew you'd get me, Da," she said between her cries. "I knew it."

Wren held in his own tears and refused to look at Violet. He was Tenet's servant, nothing more, and until Tenet could explain to Violet, the last thing he wanted was her to speak to him and blow their cover. But they had her, and he could not help feel a warrior's triumph. He stayed in the background one step behind Tenet and simply waited to see what would happen next.

Bradwin felt a hard, sharp pain knife through his chest and wondered if he was finally having that heart attack Irmara always warned him about. He stared at his son and clutched the podium, trying to make sense of the turn his perfect moment had taken. Lost, he looked to Irmara. She stood with her hand over her mouth, her eyes glistening with tears. She was useless. Utterly useless! That thought brought him back from his stupor. "My...my son..." he stammered into the microphone.

The stunned crowd turned as one to look at Bradwin. He held his hand out as a calling to his boy, and Tenet had to fight hard to keep his emotions in check. He shifted Violet in his arms, easily cradling her as he always did, and walked carefully up the stairs. He stopped in front of Irmara. "Mother," he said, hoping he didn't sound as cold as he felt.

It was Tenet. It was really and truly him! Something inside Irmara soared, while something else felt like it broke. "Tenet," she whispered, trying desperately to gather her wits. They were standing in front of the entire nation and she had to pull herself together. And yet, she couldn't. Her mind went utterly blank. Tenet moved his hand toward her and for a fleeting moment she believed he would stroke her face or squeeze her hand or pull her into a hug. Instead, his hand closed around her own and he he pulled it between them, away from the sight of the crowd. With a firm pressure, he squeezed open her fist and pulled the shock collar control from her grasp. The anger in his eyes changed to pure hatred and Irmara knew true depths of sadness and regret like she hadn't felt in years.

Tenet took the control and slipped it into his pocket. They were using the same type of collar on Violet that Jace used on Scarab and it turned his stomach. However, he had to keep calm. Though it took every ounce of self control, he turned from his mother without saying a word. He pasted as friendly a smile on his face as he could and shook his father's outstretched hand before taking a seat. Wren took up position directly behind him and they simply sat and waited.

Bradwin was stuck and he knew it. Udin would have a field day trying to scramble up a story after this debacle! And the boy sat there with the audacity to give him a smug look. One thing was sure. His son had changed. He wasn't a coward anymore. He was a man, and an angry one at that. The stunned crowd had recovered from their shock and were all but screaming for information. Tenet's eyebrow rose slightly, a silent challenge to his father, and Bradwin's blood boiled.

Bradwin turned back to the crowd. "By the great fathers of our nation, we are well and truly blessed." He made tears fall, an old trick he pulled out once in awhile. "My son! My boy! What a blessed harvest season indeed!" He threw his hands in the air and pumped his fists, then strode over and pulled Tenet into a hug. It was awkward with Violet stuck in the middle, but he knew how to play the crowd.

Udin Castani pushed his way up the stairs and walked straight for the podium, ignoring the accusatory look Bradwin shot him. "My word what a night! What a night indeed!" he told the crowd as Bradwin began ushering his family off the stage. As soon as they were down the stairs they were surrounded by armed guards and while they fought their way through the press to the door, Udin shouted for the people to listen to him. "Give the Bradwins their privacy! I think after the years without their son they've earned it. We will hold a press conference first thing in the morning. But tonight, am I mistaken, or were we supposed to have a party?" He motioned for the band to begin playing music, then scurried off after the Bradwins. He made it to their personal transport just before the door closed.

"What the hell was that shit, Bradwin?" he demanded. Any other admonitions died before they were voiced as he took in the scene in the transport.

Irmara and Bradwin sat on one side with their personal guards, and Tenet, the girl, and some mystery soldier sat on the other. The girl clung to Tenet like he was her life line, and all of the adults seemed shell shocked. Udin's gaze found Irmara's and he could not mistake the surprise in her eyes. "Aw, shit," he said shaking his head. "You didn't know?"

Bradwin cleared his throat. "Of course I didn't know, you nit wit!" he snapped.

Udin gripped the wall, still standing as the transport lurched forward. "But you knew he was alive," he said, pointing to Tenet.

Bradwin made a face. "Oh what the hell does it matter now?"

Udin thew his hands in the air and rolled his eyes. "You should have told me! We've got no contingency plan for anything like this!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Bradwin pulled a hankie from his pocket and wiped his sweaty brow. He caught Tenet's look and tucked the hankie back in his pocket, trying to get himself to calm down. "You...you always were one for dramatics," he said, wishing he had come up with something better to say.

Tenet slowly shook his head, then turned his attention back to his daughter. She was curled up on his lap, almost asleep, and he kissed her head again, needing to make sure she was real and in his arms. His lips became sticky from the hair goo, but he didn't even notice.

Irmara watched her son tenderly hold his daughter and her heart broke for all the times she longed to do the same. He was there. He was real. And he was beautiful, even more than he'd been as a child. He was grown, a full man with eyes that were knowing where they once were sad and naive. I wanted to hold you like that, she wanted to tell him. I wanted to kiss your head, too! But she did not say it, she simply dug her nails into her palms and watched.

"And who are you?" Udin asked, nodding his head towards Wren.

"Sergeant Alden Nori," Wren said in his best Southlander voice.

Udin frowned. "Never heard of you."

"He's my man," Tenet said. "A friend who helped me plan my escape from up there."

Bradwin frowned at Tenet, confused by Tenet's claim. Jace had assured Bradwin that Tenet was a willing participant in his life up in that horrid place. "He's a spy," Bradwin accused.

Wren was prepared. He withdrew his com chip and handed it over, just as he had been instructed. He kept the emotion out of his expression as he waited for Udin to take the chip. When Udin snatched the chip and put it in his com dock, Wren looked at Bradwin. "I am nothing but a serviceman who helped your son return."

He had to be lying. Bradwin looked to Udin who was reading the information off the com chip with a deep scowl. "Sir, you better look at this," he said, handing over the com dock.

Bradwin read the service history for the special operative. It all seemed legitimate. "This can be faked," he said, handing the information back to Udin.

Tenet gave a tired little laugh. "I don't have a pot to piss in, and you think I have the means to bribe one of your agents?" He scoffed and leaned his head on the back of the seat. "God, I'm tired. I'm so damn tired. You have no idea how good it feels to be back in a real transport!"

Bradwin's eyes narrowed further. An agent of the man's alleged class would have no trackers, no identification chips. They couldn't. If they were ever discovered to be part of the secret service Bradwin's father had begun, the nation would be outraged. There could be no ties to the government. However, the blood, that could not be faked. They would run a gene test and through DNA discover his identity. "Type him," he said to Udin.

Udin quirked an eyebrow. "With what? We're in a transport, not a lab."

Bradwin turned to Irmara. "Don't you have a kit or something?"

Irmara had been staring lovingly at her son. When Bradwin said something to her again, she turned to him. "What?"

He sighed. "Your kit. Can't you type him?"

Irmara gave him a bland look. "I carry herbs, Bradwin. I can cure a headache. That's about it."

There was no need for her to be snippy, and if the transport wasn't already slowing he would have told her as much. "Doesn't matter," he snapped. "We're here." He motioned to Udin. "Take him to the clinic downstairs."

Tenet felt a quick flutter of fear at being separated, but Wren gave him a reassuring look. "I'd feel more comfortable if Nori could stay," Tenet said casually. "Some thugs gave chase and he has proven his skills in my defense."

Bradwin was tired and flustered. He should get rid of this Nori person as quickly as possible, and would have ordered it already if he didn't have a niggling of doubt. Had Jace been wrong? He was a self-serving little prick. Perhaps he merely pretended that Tenet was a willing member of that awful witch community to press him for more money later? His head hurt. His heartburn seared his insides. He needed a good, stiff drink and some time to think. "Type him and then put him in the guest wing under surveillance until I can come up with something." Udin nodded and led Wren off the transport and into the building.

Tenet stood and shifted Violet in his arms. She made a scared little whimper and squeezed him tighter. "I will be bunking with Violet." He did not leave any room for debate.

Irmara didn't even glance at Bradwin before she consented. "Of course," she said quickly. She stepped forward and looked like she wanted to say something, but then thought better of it and closed her mouth.

"I assume you have given her my old rooms?"

Bradwin nodded and rubbed his eyes. "Yes. I'll have Waldor show you the way."

Tenet gave a wry smile. "I think I can remember." He turned and was almost out of the transport when Bradwin stopped him.

"I don't know what you're playing at, Tenet, but I will find out. I always do."

Tenet turned around and looked him straight in the eye. "I'm not playing at anything, Father. I do not take my parenthood as a game." With that, he turned and stormed into the house past the staff members that stood and gaped in shock.

Tenet let his memory guide him through the large manor to the east wing and up the marbled staircase to his old rooms. He waited for the servant to open the door, then ordered all of the staff to leave them alone for the night. When they protested he simply stared at them until they cowered and left. He knew that in moments, guards would be posted outside the door.

"Da," Violet said sleepily. "I wanted you to come so bad."

"Shh," he said, setting her on the bed. "I'm here." He unbuttoned the top buttons of her dress so he could have access to the collar. He pulled the control from his pocket and used it just as he had used the unitool to unlock the same style of collar from Scarab. The necklace made a little click that caused Violet to wince, then fell off. As soon as it was gone Violet rubbed at her neck.

"I hate that thing!"

"Me too, baby." Tenet pushed aside his rage and put the necklace in his pocket. They'd pay, but right then, Violet needed her Da. He held his arms open and she flung herself into them again. "Better?" he asked.

"Yes, Da. So much better!" She placed kisses on his cheeks then pulled back. "I almost didn't know it was you. Your whiskers are gone!"

"Yes, and so are yours," he said, pointing to her eyebrows. He made a silly face and Violet laughed. His heart squeezed inside at the sound he'd so desperately missed. "What will Mumma say when she sees you have no eyebrows, hm?"

At the mention of Scarab, Violet's lip quivered and her eyes watered. "That bastard took Mumma," she said.

Tenet didn't have the heart to correct her language. Given the situation, he would have let her say far worse. He was about to tell her Scarab was fine when it occurred her him that they were most likely being monitored. He looked at her and hoped she could read him as well as she read Scarab when they played their secret spy games. "Don't you think about that. I'm here. And I'm positive the wraiths got that bad man."

Violet frowned for a second before her eyes went wide. Da put a finger to his lips to make sure she kept quiet and she grinned and nodded, then winked at him.

"It's almost time for the wraiths to come out," he said, delivering Scarab's message. Violet's little hands twitched in excitement and it was clear she knew what the cryptic message meant. "But that's enough talk about the scary monsters. We'll migrate long before they come out," he told her as he winked and pressed a finger to his lips. "Now, time for a bath, young lady!"

Violet threw her arms around her Da again. He came for her and her Mumma would come for them both. She was sure of it. She let her Da pick her up and carry her to the bath and she didn't even care how hard he scrubbed to get the goo out of her hair. He was there and soon she would go home. The wraiths were coming, and Violet could not stop grinning.

Bradwin paced in his study downstairs, his mind spinning with all that happened. His private forces were summoned immediately and he knew he couldn't afford to drink much of the wine in his glass, no matter how badly he craved the entire carafe. He gave a small laugh as he thought about Merle, how he now understood what the simpering little moron felt every day.

"And what is there you could possibly find humorous?" Iramra snapped from her position at the window. She was coiled tighter than a watch spring and she wondered just how it was Bradwin could be calm. Or even act like he was.

Bradwin sighed and sipped his wine. "Nothing," he said flatly. "There is absolutely nothing funny about tonight." He glanced at Irmara's back, for a moment wondering if she had any idea that Tenet was planning on showing himself that night. Almost as quickly as the question arose in his mind, he dismissed it as a possibility. He wouldn't put it past her to make a fool of him, but she had clearly been as stunned as he was. His com beeped and it made Irmara jump. As he answered the call from Udin, he watched as Irmara began to pace like a caged animal again.

"The blood is legitimate," he told her as he closed the com link. "We've typed the blood of the soldier and it matches one of our files. He is who he says." He sat back in seat and rubbed his temples. "It just doesn't make any sense."

Irmara was beyond caring about appearances and turned her tortured gaze to Bradwin. "Can't you just believe Tenet's found a way to come home?"

Bradwin saw the real pain in her eyes and it struck him that she honestly wanted to believe what she was saying. "No," he said, refusing to buy into the game. "I don't. What the hell is here for him, hm? He was all too quick to leave."

Irmara scoffed and turned away. "Don't you dare try and tell me you had nothing to do with that. Not now. Not after all this time. You wanted him gone."

"Yes," Bradwin agreed, feeling the flaring of old anger roil in his stomach. "I wanted him gone. I made no secret about it then and I won't lie now. But he was the one who left. He chose to go. What I wanted was irrelevant. He wanted to leave. And can you blame him?" He shook his head. "It was the one thing he ever did with any conviction. The one time he showed any backbone. Did you know I actually respected him for doing it?"

Irmara dug her fingernails into the window sill and struggled to maintain control. "I knew it," she whispered harshly. "I always knew you were behind it! You said when he was born you'd take him from me and you did." She whirled around. "And now he's back. Now he came back to me and there's not a damn thing you can do about it!"

Bradwin stared at his wife as if she was a stranger. She was yelling. His perfectly poised, utterly composed ice queen of a wife was utterly frazzled. He often saw hatred from Irmara. Anger. Annoyance on a daily basis and an overall boredom with life. But this deep, painful sadness, this was new. It was wholly unexpected, and after such an evening, he found he had nothing to say.

Irmara's anger and pain forced her to her breaking point and before she could stop herself, she ripped the goblet of wine from her husband's hands and threw it with all her might against the wall behind him. "You will not take them from me this time!" she screeched.

Bradwin felt the wine splatter on the back of his head. His wife stood before him, a monster, a raging beast, and it took him the span of several heartbeats to be able to speak. "I have had all I can tolerate tonight," he said as carefully and as calmly as he could. "I believe before you truly do something you will regret that it would be wise for you to retire to your rooms and consider your position!"

Irmara could not believe the man. He still dared order her around? She gave a deep laugh, and it clearly unsettled Bradwin. As he scooted further back in his chair, her laugh increased. "Oh, Bradwin. Oh, you poor, foolish bastard! You think _I_ should consider _my_ position?" She wiped a maniacal tear from her eye and shook her head. "And what about yours, hm? What about your position? What, exactly, is the great Exalted Leader to do now? This wasn't your plan. These aren't your cards being played." She pointed her finger towards the door. "My son has returned in the face of the entire nation, and he did it using the help of your man that shouldn't even exist. My position is the same as it was yesterday, and will be tomorrow. I'm the poor, young, naive wife, just a tribal girl at heart. Do you really think I will have to do the answering in the morning?"

Irmara felt the freedom of her words, felt the weight lifting for the first time in years and years. Bradwin turned pale in front of her, and for a moment she felt bad for him. He was clever. If there was a way to come out of this with the appearance of clean hands, Bradwin would figure out how. But as she spoke, the truth in her statement could not be denied. She saw Bradwin's hatred for her burn, yet she knew that for the time being, it would simply simmer unrealized. He could not risk any more scandal. It gave her a feeling of buoyancy and power and her creepy smile beamed.

Udin strode in and stopped dead in his tracks. He saw the crazed look in Irmara's eyes, then took in the pale, blank expression on the old man. He swore under his breath, then stepped forward to break up whatever he walked into. It was going to be a long few days of spinning to get the people to buy the story he'd have to sell, and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with a murder. At the moment, it was a toss up which one of the pair would be the killer, though he'd lay odds on Irmara. She was a firecracker, especially when she was angry, and in spite of the seriousness of the situation he wanted nothing more than to whisk her away and turn her emotions into the passion he sorely missed.

"If you two are done sniping, we've got work to do," he said with as much authority as he could muster.

Udin's voice got Irmara's attention and she turned to face the man, still feeling like she stood on the edge of sanity and anger and freedom. She stepped forward and only the look of panic on his face stopped her from kissing him. She had already twisted the knife into Bradwin, and it was very hard not to twist it some more. When Udin took a small step back, she couldn't blame him. "Udin," she said, nodding as she passed. "Good luck getting him out of this one!" She slammed the door, but even through the echoing thud they could hear her cackling laughter.

"She's lost it," Bradwin said, staring at the door. "She's finally flipped her gourd."

"Calm down, boss," Udin said, trying to sound like he wasn't shaken as well. "She just had a hard night." He sat across the desk from the old man and studied him. "You take your pill today?" he asked quietly.

Bradwin blinked, then focused on Udin. "My pill?" When Udin nodded, Bradwin patted his coat pocket. "Yes, my pill." He took out the little pouch and removed a pill. Udin handed him a glass of water and he drank it down, then sat back and closed his eyes. "Oh what in the hell are we going to do?"

Udin rubbed his chin and sat back. There were a million things he could have said, but only one he would. "Hell if I know. I didn't even know he was still alive."

Bradwin took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "Oh, get over it. No one knew that didn't absolutely have to."

Udin gave a little humph. "What is it I've always said? If a problem's not solved..."

"It'll always come back to bite you in the ass," finished Bradwin tiredly. "I know. I get it, okay? Your habit of saying 'I told you so' is really annoying."

"I've been told. Now, like I said, the soldier checks out."

Bradwin shook his head. "I don't remember him."

Udin shrugged. "You might not have even met him before. He's worked the border regions guarding some of your, um, most important shipments, shall we say? Spotless record. Four kills, all of them clean and without notice from the locals. Plus there's visual corroboration from the squad up past the 'alfalfa' fields." When he said "alfalfa", he made his fingers form air quotes, and Bradwin knew just what he meant.

"So he's a runner."

"Yep. A damn good one, too. He's straight up legit, boss." He flashed a grin. "Well, you know what I mean."

Bradwin sighed heavily. "Yes, I believe I may have gotten the gist." He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Did he give you any more information?"

"No more than he's trained to. Name. Rank. Base."

"It just doesn't make sense," Bradwin insisted, shaking his head. "Why didn't he bring him directly to me? Why set me up in front of everyone like that?"

"Because he is good enough to know how things operate." There wasn't malice in Udin's words, only truth. "Say he brings the kid to you in private. Say things head south and you decide the world's better off without Tenet, which, I might add, it is. What are you going to do to a soldier who's not really a soldier, hm? Since no one knows about him already, he's utterly expendable." Udin shook his head again. "Now, if he puts himself in the spotlight and _then_ disappears, well, people might notice. Sorry, boss, but I think he just played it smart."

Bradwin let out a little scoff. "Do you think I would have killed him?"

"Yes," Udin answered honestly. His honesty was the only reason he stayed alive and he didn't plan on changing strategies this late in the game. "Shit, you only keep me around because too many people think I'm adorable." He flashed an award-winning smile and Bradwin had to admit, his good looks made things easier with the press.

Bradwin tapped his fingers on the desk in front of him, his mind racing in a thousand different directions. "I don't even know where to go. I don't know what to do. I can't trust Nori, and there's no chance in hell I'm putting any faith in my son. He might have come to be with his daughter, or he could have come to secure her escape. My wife's threatening to go to the press, my granddaughter's still a wild little barbarian. Let's not even get into what in the hell this is going to do with the war..." He laughed, a sad, sorry little sound that made Udin actually feel bad for his boss.

"Let's start with one thing at a time," Udin said in a soothing and firm tone. "I've posted men outside the east wing, both inside and outdoors. I've ordered a bot patrol of the surrounding fields all through the night, and as we speak, an electro-perimeter is being constructed. No matter what your son's reason is for being here, I guarantee he's not going anywhere until we want him to."

Bradwin sighed and nodded. "That's something."

Udin quirked an eyebrow. "That's a lot. Next, we've got your team arriving any time now. We'll see if we can't turn a few screws and grease a few palms and get to the bottom of all of this. Someone knew he was coming, someone besides Alden Nori. I'd bet my life on it. We'll find out who, and then we'll have the whole story. Your biggest immediate problem is the shock collar you used on her in front of everyone." He gave Bradwin a look of admonition. "I thought we agreed not to press the button unless things got dire?"

Bradwin gave a helpless little laugh. Though he would have loved to blame Irmara for overreacting, the truth was that if he controlled the button, he would have pressed it as well. "And can you name for me a more dire situation?"

Udin's plan was working. The old man was getting past the shell-shocked stage and starting to act more like himself. "Yes, well that doesn't make it easier for me tomorrow morning when they all start demanding to know why the Exalted Leader has to stoop to renegade tactics to control one little girl."

"One little _heathen_ ," Bradwin pointed out, and Udin knew his boss was back on firmer ground.

"Exactly, and I think we need to rework the way we present her. Let's rough up her appearance a little. Less us, more them, let the public see that she's truly wild. I think we polished the turd too well, if you'll excuse the expression. Now, if we can convince Tenet that it's in his best interest, what I propose is..."

As Udin laid out his plans, Bradwin began to feel better. He began to shake off the horror and terror and shock of seeing his son, and the fear of all the potential ramifications. Udin had a plan for the press. He already had a story to sell. He called the team and they'd decide what this could mean for the war, and by the time Udin spelled everything out, one manageable step at a time, Bradwin had calmed and cleared and felt like himself. The one wild card was his wife, and he was half tempted to tell Udin to have at her, rewarding the man for his brilliance and keeping Irmara quiet in one move. If it wasn't for the fact that Irmara would derive great pleasure from it, he would have sent the man to her rooms himself.

When Bradwin's team walked in, they found their Exalted Leader up and pacing and giving plans to Udin. "Ah, gentlemen. I'm glad you could get here on such short notice. Close the door. We've got a long night ahead."

Chapter 17

Scarab stood and stared at the rain dripping off the overhang. The lights of the base below the mountain caught in each droplet and she allowed her mind to go blank while she watched the repetitive cascade. Far down the tunnel behind her, Weevil was giving Takar extra training. Lendyl was sleeping. Soldiers were scurrying around to prepare for the war. And she was a useless basket case. She knew the old weaponry and already had a working understanding of the new. She had sat in for about a half hour on the strategy meeting with the extraction team, but most of it was about the area in and around the corn sector, which she knew like the back of her hand. Her fidgeting was only a distraction, not a help, and she had dismissed herself after the instructor glared at her for the third time. So she went to the entrance and stared out into the rain. It was better than pacing.

A vehicle turned from the main road and started up the hill towards her. She watched it approach and couldn't stop the butterflies. It had been two days since Tenet left. They were just waiting for the word of his arrival at Bradwin's estate before they moved out. She clenched her fist and silently begged for this to be that word.

The vehicle slowed to enter the tunnel and Scarab had to stop herself from running up to it like a child. Fratz got out of one side and Krupkie got out of another. One look at Fratz's expression sent her heart soaring. "He's in there safe?"

Fratz gave a nod and a smile. "Sure thing, missy."

Krupkie made a motion for Scarab to follow her into the facility. "Better wake the entire team and round them up. The sooner we mobilize, the better."

They entered the mostly quiet research facility and Fratz walked to the dorm rooms, waking everyone with his booming command as he went. Krupkie took a position in the open area and waited for people to assemble. She watched Scarab closely. The woman was about to snap if she didn't hear something, and Krupkie took pity on her. "He's got your girl."

That was all she needed to hear. Scarab was ready to go. The urge to jump up and start running after them was almost overwhelming.

Krupkie watched as Scarab glanced at the door, her muscles tense. "I stuck with my end of the bargain," she began.

Scarab's eyes snapped to Krupkie's and her face turned red. How was it the older woman could read her so well? "And I fully intend to stick to mine," Scarab assured her.

Krupkie had her doubts. Truth be told, if Scarab cut out then, if she just sneaked out in the night on her own mission, it wouldn't really have any affect on the overall plan. Tenet was the key to setting things in motion. However, if she did, she'd be forfeiting support from a highly skilled extraction team. The woman was itchy to go, and Krupkie couldn't blame her. But Scarab was good enough to see the best plan. She always had been in the past, and Krupkie had no doubt she'd see reason on her own in this instance as well.

It didn't take long for the group to assemble. The extraction team was already awake, and they filed in like the well-trained unit they were, standing at the ready to listen to the debriefing. Lendyl did his best to look as alert, though his whole new unit, Fratz's special troops, had been soundly asleep and all stood trying to shake off the fog. Weevil and Takar stood together, apart from the rest.

Scarab wondered at that. Soon she would be leaving them. Soon they would all be taking their own parts in the war, and she hoped Weevil's guidance would be enough to keep Takar alive. He was a loose cannon. He was always out to prove himself, to gain glory. Scarab sincerely hoped Weevil's teaching could temper that. If he lead a charge on horseback against a bot army, he wouldn't get five steps before being cut down by lasers. And young Lendyl. While he found a reluctant acceptance in the ranks of Fratz's special group, he, too, battled for glory. Takar was driven by something Scarab didn't understand, but Lendyl was pushed by nothing more than the cockiness of youth, and Scarab didn't know which was more dangerous.

Scarab ran a hand through her hair. She could not do this. She could not worry about everyone else. Already her mind was too distracted by her own husband and daughter. She couldn't let herself be divided further. They were warriors, great Ogden warriors. She closed off the part of her mind that worried that they could fall. Though it felt like a betrayal, it was simply what she had to do.

When everyone who mattered was present, Krupkie began to speak. "We have received initial word and follow-up confirmation that Operation Bash Crash was a success." Scarab snorted at the name of the mission. She hadn't heard that before. "Tenet and Mr. McKay gained entry to some harvest blessing gala and made their presence known. Though they were seen by a few beforehand, those people were taken care of. Though it only happened hours ago, their media is already humming with the story and by all accounts, the mission went better than we could have planned." Krupkie had debated with Gundersson on their way to the mountain whether or not to tell Scarab about the next bit. Fratz believed it would make Scarab enraged, when they needed her calm. But Krupkie firmly believed it would simply drive her harder, firm the woman's resolve. Contrary to what Fratz seemed to think, Krupkie knew that Scarab wasn't a woman to act on emotion. She paused for a second and caught Fratz shaking his head out the corner of her eye.

"It seems the great and mighty leader had decided to train his granddaughter with a shock collar." Krupkie spoke directly to Scarab, carefully studying her eyes to gage reaction. The woman burned inside, but set her jaw to listen to the rest instead of flying off the handle. Krupkie shot a quick "I told you so" look to Gundersson. "He shocked her right in front of the press," she continued. "All of Southland saw him electrocute his own grandchild. As I said, it went better than expected."

Scarab's rage burned hot inside and she forced herself to take slow, even breaths. She felt the scabs on her neck from her own collar and used that to help the rage turn to icy steel inside. They would pay. There would not be a single one involved who would escape unscathed.

Krupkie waited until she was certain Scarab was listening to continue. "He's in, he's got her. Mr. McKay was initially separated from them, as we assumed, but has since been placed back in the main house. An electro-perimeter has been established around the house, another around the grounds, and the transport grid itself has been disabled for that entire sector."

One of the men on the extraction team whistled. "They're not screwing around."

"There's more. The bot army has mobilized. They've been ordered to advance to seventeen miles outside of our border."

Takar couldn't help himself and snorted. "That's oddly specific."

Krupkie turned to him. "That's how far our longest range ballistic missile can travel." She flashed a grin. "At least, that's what they believe."

Weevil gave her a wink and grinned over at Takar. "I told you they always underestimate me." Takar tilted his head, then turned back to Krupkie.

"The actual troops are still far behind. Their transport grids end a hundred miles from the border, and they're too stupid to see the beauty in wheels." She rolled her eyes with the rest of the group. "So they're marching. On foot. For a hundred miles."

"And _we_ be the barbarians," Fratz said, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head.

"Pissed off barbarians," said one of his young soldiers. Lendyl raised his fist to the Mother in agreement, and Fratz was pleased to see that none of the other young troops gave him funny looks. His initial instinct was correct. They would work very well together.

"Can we get back on track?" Scarab asked. The soldiers could bond later, after she left.

"Extraction stage begins next," said Krupkie. "The bots are close, the troops are marching. It's going to be a little more difficult than we thought."

"Are we changing the plan?"

Krupkie shook her head at Scarab's question. "Too late in the game. We stick with what we've prepared. It's going to be tricky, but it's still our best shot. We're prepping the old transport now. You've got fifteen minutes to gather your supplies and say your good byes, then you'll head out. Any questions?"

No one had any, and they broke apart to get ready for the next phase. Scarab didn't have anything to prepare. Weevil had put a small pack of necessities together for her, and she had her weapons strapped to her belt already. All that was left to do was to wish Takar and Lendyl well, and she suddenly dreaded the exchange. What was she supposed to say?

Lendyl approached. "Mrs. Lorne?" he said uncertainly.

Scarab took a deep breath. She couldn't worry. She couldn't care. She was already too divided as it was. The walls were up and they needed to stay there. "Mr. Bryn."

"I...I just wanted to say good luck to you."

Scarab swallowed. "And you." The words were cold and curt and she saw a quick look of hurt flash in the boy's eyes. She couldn't let emotion in, she just couldn't. A more experienced warrior would understand.

Takar and Weevil approached. "You honor our septad," said Takar to Scarab, taking over for Lendyl. "We will meet here again and return to our home." He said the words firmly and gave her hand a warrior's shake before turning and pulling Lendyl with him.

"Kinda cold, sweetheart," Weevil said.

Scarab pressed her lips together. "Take care of them," she said quietly, before turning and joining the extraction team.

Fratz approached and knew the look of a soldier about to go to war he saw in her eyes. "You get 'em, missy," he said simply. "Come runnin' and we'll get yer backs."

Scarab was relieved when he turned and walked away. Like Takar, Fratz knew what Scarab needed. She needed distance, not friends. She needed soldiers, not pals. She needed cold separation so she could think past the emotions that threatened to erupt. And when she got back, she would tell them how much it meant to her that they could give her that space.

Takar and Lendyl stood with Weevil and watched the extraction team get into an old transport and roll out. Lendyl rubbed his hand over the stubble on his chin, missing the beard that would have hid his sadness. As silly as it was, he had felt safer with Mrs. Lorne around. Her leaving hammered the situation home for him. Soon he would be riding out with Fratz and his team, and leave Takar as well. Soon, he would truly be on his own. For the first time in his life, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to honor his septad.

Takar thumped Lendyl's shoulder and wished he had the way with words that had always come so easily to his brother. Wren would know what to say. Wren would know how to replace the fear in young Lendyl with the confidence that would see him through battle. The thought of his brother down there in the thick of things brought a lump to Takar's own throat and he felt as lost and miserable as Lendyl. He silently begged the Mother for her help in guiding them both. "We are proud warriors of Ogden," he said quietly. "We will not know defeat."

Lendyl tried to feel the conviction of Takar's words. "What if we do not see them again? I cannot face my septad in such failure."

Weevil laughed, startling the warriors. "Are you shitting me? You two obviously don't know them very well. I could tell you some stories..." He sighed. "Ah, the old days. My point is, now is not the time to worry about them." He pointed at Lendyl. "You need to worry about sneaking behind the enemy lines. And you," he turned his finger to Takar, "need to worry about keeping your cute ass safe on the forward assault."

Lendyl's eyebrow raised at Weevil's words, and his curiosity piqued further when Takar did not lay the man out for such insolence.

"He's right," Takar said tightly, feeling thrilled and embarrassed all at once. "Go meditate until your thoughts have cleared," he ordered Lendyl. When the boy trotted off down the hall, a look of confusion still on his face, Takar addressed Weevil. "Stop saying such things."

Weevil gave a little laugh. "And you clearly don't know me, either. God, for a big bad warrior, you don't pay attention. I say that shit to everyone." He turned and started to walk back to his desk. They'd have to finalize the plans for the forward assault, and he had to make sure The Beast was ready.

Takar frowned at Weevil's back for a moment. He knew he should leave it alone. "This is untrue." His frown deepened. He could never leave things alone. Weevil turned around and gave him a curious look. "You do not say such things to everyone. You only say such things to me and it is..." Takar had to swallow, too embarrassed to continue.

There was a time when it was true, when Weevil said those things to everyone, when he could be fun and flippant and superficial. The man was right, though. He didn't say those things to everyone these days. In fact, when he did, it was usually a farce. Usually. Not with the warrior, though, and it intrigued Weevil that Takar noticed. Weevil walked back to the warrior and tilted his head. "Do you know why I'm helping those kids? Why I'm putting myself out there?"

Once again, the odd man threw Takar for a loop. He jumped from one subject to the next, and it was impossible to predict what he'd say next. "No."

Weevil didn't know why he wanted the barbarian to understand him. He didn't know why it felt important. However, since there was very little in life that truly interested him anymore, he went with it. "Once upon a time, there was a little man who thought he was big. He had all the men and women he wanted to screw tucked away in his little castle that was stocked with gadgets and food and endless drink. People feared him because of who his world made him become, and he actually thought that was power."

Takar followed as Weevil walked while he spoke. He knew Weevil was speaking of himself and couldn't have torn himself away even if the Mother herself commanded it.

"This little man, he spent his life playing. He played with guns, he played with his money, and, mostly, he played with people. He was bored, you see? He lived the life his government had designed for him to live and every day passed just as dull as the last, no matter how he tried to liven things up. And then one day, someone came to his castle and asked him for help, someone young and hopelessly innocent and actually good. A good person, Takar." He turned to face the warrior. "And while his request seemed selfish, it took a long time to understand that it was not." They had reached the training cages and they stood and watched as a troop leader was taking the advantage of the troops being awake at night to get in some extra training.

Takar was silent, just waiting to see if Weevil would continue. To his relief, Weevil did. "You know what happened in the meantime? The government came looking for their kid." Weevil was speaking about Tenet, and Takar's ears perked up when that dawned on him.

"They sent their bots and their hunters into my castle and shook it up. They threatened to kill all of my toys, my collection of amusing playthings, if I didn't talk." He swallowed hard. He'd never told anyone the information, he never wanted to. But he suddenly needed to tell this warrior all the dark secrets he thought he could simply leave in the past. "I did what they expected of me, what they raised and groomed me to do. I told them what I knew... not all, mind. But enough to give them a pretty accurate lead. I told them, and watched them bully their way into the dead zone."

"You sold out your friends."

The warrior's words felt like a punch in the gut. "Yeah," Weevil said eventually. "Yeah, I did. And the pisser was, I didn't even get that until later. I blabbed, watched them walk away, and then turned around and picked up my life right where I left off." Takar heard the self-loathing in the man's voice and instead of walking away in anger and disgust, he stayed and listened. This man was sharing his burdens, for whatever reason, and Takar wanted to let him. "It was days later, days of me getting drunk and staying drunk, before I realized that I not only met a good person, but probably killed him." He shook his head. "God, I was a mess. Maybe I knew all along, huh? Maybe that's why I put myself in a good bender."

Weevil sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair. "So, there I was, thinking I killed them, and who comes back but the hunter who I blabbed to. He missed. He didn't get them, and I had a second chance. I didn't tell him everything the first time and he knew it. So he started killing people, one by one."

"Jace?"

"Yeah, the rottenest son of a bitch you'd ever meet. Save Tenet's dad, that is. He went through picking off the people I laughed with, joked with, screwed and pretended to love and..." Weevil closed his eyes and shook his head. "And the worst thing the bastard did was leave me alive." He drew a shaky breath, surprised at just how hard it was getting to talk. "Damn. I'd kill for a drink about now. Why the hell am I telling you this?"

Takar raised his shoulder, hoping Weevil wouldn't stop. "Sometimes the weight of one trial must be lifted before you face another."

Weevil studied the man for a minute before giving him a half smile. "Are all of you Celties so deep?" He waved his hand before Takar could answer. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Just trying to bring a little levity to a heavy conversation." He smiled, but there was really no humor in it. He turned back towards the troops in the cage. "I, uh," he began before he faltered. After a moment he cleared his throat. "I got out of there. He left me among all the dead, and I didn't even stop to bury them. I just packed my shit and hit the road. I figured...hell, I don't know. I figured maybe I could use my connections and find the kids to warn them that Jace wasn't going to give up, that he'd never let it rest." He snorted at his own naivete. "You know what I found when I go out there?"

"No."

"Nothing. Nothing but trees and mountains and wild animals. My connections, all my supposed power meant shit. Absolutely nothing. I didn't find the Lornes. Instead I found a troop of soldiers out on patrol and was dragged in for questioning and ended up here. I can't leave. It's my prison. My penance. And you know what?" Takar shook his head. "It will never be enough to make up for it all."

Takar didn't know what to say, and once again wished he had Wren's way with people. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to pull Weevil into his arms and hold him through his pain. But that was something he could not do. Once again he felt the familiar awkwardness he always felt when he tried to interact with people.

Weevil saw the look of discomfort come over the warrior's face and he felt a disappointment inside. He didn't know what he expected, but he had hoped for something, some sign, some forgiveness or comfort or... "Aw, hell. I didn't mean to bring us down. We've got a lot of getting ready to do and I'm standing here babbling like and idiot and..."

"Thank you," said Takar quietly.

Weevil looked at him. "For what?"

"For giving me your burdens. It is an honor to carry your past with me. I will guard your secrets and hold them well." The words were spoken quietly and sincerely, the warrior's piercing gaze cutting right through Weevil.

There wasn't a single thing the man could have said that would have affected Weevil more. There was no judgment, either in his words or his eyes, simply acceptance and absolution. Weevil blinked, dumbfounded as a heat crept up his cheeks. Was he...blushing? He could not remember the last time he blushed, the last time he felt embarrassed or excited, or the mix of both running through him. "In another time and place, I bet you and I could have a great life together," he said quietly. He saw a look flash across the warrior's face, understanding, enticement, more than a little fear. Weevil took a small step back, not trusting himself and knowing that any advance would send the warrior running. He had lived in the Borderlands long enough to learn there were great differences in the way the different societies viewed personal relationships. He had no idea how a male-only relationship would be viewed by the Celtist religion, and he didn't want to compromise his new friendship to find out.

Takar was not good with people. He always had a difficult time with interactions and normally had to spend hours in meditation pouring over every little detail of a conversation to discern the real meaning behind the words. And yet, as he stared at the man who just poured his heart out to him, Takar firmly believed he was not misreading Weevil. It was so tempting to step forward. He was sure that was all it would take. He would step forward and the man would act and he would finally, finally be able to share his own burdens with someone.

Takar swallowed hard and took a deliberate step back. Though it took every fiber of his being to deny himself something he sought for so long, they did not live in a different time or place. "I am a warrior of Ogden," he said with as much authority as he could muster. "My life is not my own."

Weevil watched him turn and stride away, every inch the powerful warrior he claimed to be. He took a deep breath, and this time, when he let it out, he actually felt like he could breathe for the first time in years. There was a lightness in his chest that wasn't there before his talk, and his shoulders did not feel so heavy. He saw Takar glance back at him, and he couldn't help the warm smile that spread across his face. He took another deep breath, then whistled a little tune as he turned to head for his desk to prepare for war.

Chapter 18

Tenet woke early, as he normally did, and found that Violet was still fast asleep. He smiled to himself as he tucked a shiny lock of hair over her ear. She would have to get used to waking up early again once they got home. He leaned forward and kissed her head and wondered if he'd ever be able to stop kissing and hugging her and making sure she was safe and well. He pushed up from the small bed and groaned as his back creaked. He rose and stretched, then checked the door to the suite. It was locked, as he expected. He went back into the bedroom and locked Violet's door from the inside before using the bathroom that connected. He wasn't taking any risks with her ever again.

After he used the bathroom and washed up, he went back into the bedroom and woke his daughter. "Come on, sleepy head. No lazing around."

Violet yawned and groaned. "But I don't hafta get up early here."

Tenet sighed. "You and your mother with your sleeping." He shook his head and pulled the blanket right off her. "Rise and shine."

"But Da," she began.

Tenet almost started crying. Just like that, they were back to their usual selves, as if nothing was happening, as if nothing had gone wrong. Just like that, she was moaning about him waking her up, and he was pulling the blankets off and giving her a hard time. He almost said she'd be late for school until reality came back with a bitter slap. They weren't in their normal routine. They still had so far to go. He let go of the blanket and walked to the closet. "What should we wear today?" he asked as casually as he could.

"Did you bring me leathers?" she asked hopefully.

"Sorry, nope. We need to wear, uh..." He pulled some sort of frilly dress from the rack and brought it out, holding it up and making a face. "Whatever this is supposed to be."

Violet glared at the offensive garment before giggling at the horrified look on Da's face. "Do I hafta?"

"'Hafta' is not a word. It's 'have to'. And yes, you have to." He motioned toward the closet. "It's this ugly, crinkly rag, or another one of those ugly, crinkly rags. I don't suppose it makes much of a difference which ugly, crinkly rag you wear. You'll look absolutely hideous in any of them." He was making another face and Violet laughed again.

"You're supposed to tell a lady she's pretty!"

Tenet shrugged. "Sorry. I calls 'em like I sees 'em, and these 'ems is ugly."

Violet shook her head, unable to stop laughing. "Silly Da. I..."

There was a pounding on the door, and Violet jumped up and threw her arms around Tenet. He picked her up as calmly as possible, the rage at her fear making him pause for a slow ten count before he opened the door.

"This door is not supposed to be locked," said a man that Tenet didn't recognize. He was dressed as a servant, though, and Tenet decided to treat him as such.

"This is the door to my daughter's private inner chamber, and you are a man. You will turn yourself around and leave this room at once!"

The man quirked an eyebrow. "Right. Well, seeing as I've been hand picked to be your guard, that means I pretty much go where I need to go. Get yourselves dressed and come out to the parlor. Your father expects you to join he and the Mrs. for breakfast." The man turned and left without giving Tenet the chance to respond.

Tenet stared after him for a minute before turning to look down at Violet. "Well. He was rude." He picked his daughter up and brought her to the bathroom to wash her face and make sure she brushed her teeth. He handed her clean underclothes and left her to get herself changed, then helped her get the abomination of a dress on. It took forever to figure out exactly how all the little doodads and frilly bits were supposed to go, but eventually he got it. He helped her do up the hooks on the most comfortable looking pair of shoes he could find. Once they were on, he picked her up and pulled her to him for a hug. "There's going to be a lot of pretend today," he whispered in her ear. "And I need you to remember that what I say and what I do is just pretend. The wraith will come, okay?"

Violet nodded. "Always."

"Good girl." He kissed her again, then they went to the parlor.

"She stays," the guard said, motioning a maid forward to take Violet.

"No." Tenet said firmly, squeezing Violet's hand.

The guard sighed. "Look, pal. I'm just doing my job. And the boss man said you, not her."

"I'm not leaving without her."

The guard looked to the maid, who, having no idea what to do either, offered only a shrug. "Fine," he said eventually. "But you tell him it was your idea if the you-know-what hits the fan."

Tenet followed the man out and along the familiar corridor, through a series of rooms, and down the back stair case. Unless things had been moved around, it was not a direct route to the formal dining room and Tenet wondered at that. They reached the dining room, and Tenet saw that it was in the same place. Interesting. He picked Violet up and settled her on his hip while the guard announced them.

Irmara stood and had to force herself not to run to Tenet. As it was, she ignored Bradwin's look and walked to the door to greet him. "I...I see you brought Violet. I will call for her maid and she can eat breakfast later with the children as she normally does."

"Violet _normally_ eats breakfast with me, Mother." Tenet smiled, but Irmara felt no warmth. He walked in and set Violet down in an empty chair, then took his own seat next to her. He reached for the coffee and poured himself a cup while he asked Violet what she would like to have for breakfast.

Irmara watched him. He looked so much at home, as if he never left. And yet, there was a world of difference, and Violet was only a small part of that change. Tenet himself was different. Confident. He didn't even look in his father's direction, where he used to always constantly seek his father out in spite of the pain he knew he would cause himself by doing do. Irmara looked at Bradwin. He seemed to grow older and older by the moment. It bothered him that Tenet wouldn't look up, wouldn't acknowledge his presence. Forcing her smile to remain aloof, she walked to the table and sat down.

Bradwin watched Tenet and Violet, tapping his fingers on the table impatiently until Tenet finally looked up. "I see you still buck my orders."

"I will not go anywhere without my daughter."

Bradwin snorted. "The prisoner tells the warden what will and will not be, eh?"

Irmara rolled her eyes. "For goodness sake, Bradwin. Can't we just welcome our son without hostility?" She shot him a knowing look and Bradwin had the good sense to shut his mouth. "Welcome home, Tenet."

"I told you Da would come," said Violet, beaming as she took a bite of the sliced apple in front of her.

"That you did," Irmara said, giving her granddaughter a kind look.

Tenet buttered his bread and wondered at the looks his mother gave Violet. He hadn't received looks like that as a child. In fact, he couldn't remember anyone getting kindness from his mother. Perhaps the years had softened her. "Yes, well, it's been a long time coming." He took a deep breath. "Feels good to get out of there and be back home in civilization." He hoped Violet would just keep remembering that this was all a game like he told her. Bradwin snorted again, and Tenet looked him dead in the eye. "It's true. You upped the time line, but I've been working at escape for years."

"And you expect me to believe that you made her against your will?"

"Bradwin!" Irmara hissed.

Tenet schooled his features, relying on his years of growing up in the Bradwin family to keep the emotion out of his expression. He was trained by the best, after all. "I don't expect you to believe anything. Speak with your man, Nori. He'll tell you how long we worked on a plan to escape." He turned back to his meal and tried to eat with relish. In truth, he wished he had some bacon.

Irmara and Bradwin had a whole silent conversation with looks between each other, and in the end, Bradwin let it go for the time being with the flick of a wrist. "I'll have rooms prepared for you," Irmara said, trying to steer the conversation onto friendly ground.

"Thank you, Mother, but I'm quite content to stay with Violet." Tenet could see that his mother wanted to balk and object, but she held it in and Tenet had to force himself not to smile. The impropriety must be killing her.

"Yes. Well." She cleared her throat. "I'm sure that would make Violet's transition a little easier." She looked to Bradwin for help.

"Yes, it's fine while we're here," he said, surprising her. In truth, it would be much easier to keep an eye on both of them if they were in the same place. "However, once we reach New Canada, it'll be a different story." Bradwin watched Tenet, looking for any sign that would give away his son's plans. He saw Tenet get angry, but couldn't tell if it was because he would be ordered apart from his daughter or if there was something else afoot. He wished Udin was present. The man was very good at reading people. He made a motion to the servant who stood in the doorway, and the man scurried over. He whispered to the servant, then the man nodded and left the room.

"I am surprised Nada is not dining with us," Tenet said, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence as he always had in the past.

"Your sister is...unwell," Irmara said carefully. "It could not have escaped your attention that she and her family did not attend last night's banquet."

Tenet gave a shake of his head. "No, I didn't really notice. There was a lot on my mind." He smiled down at Violet, and she returned the gesture.

Irmara dug her fingernails into her palm fighting back the bitter jealousy at the exchange between parent and child. She wondered if the girl had that same relationship with the Mumma she was always talking about, and an image of a whole family flashed tauntingly in her mind. She could picture them around a small, tribal table in some little hut in the wilderness, just the three of them against the world. She didn't care what Tenet told Bradwin. She had no doubt that he never would have left if Bradwin hadn't taken Violet. He would have stayed in that wild land with nothing around him but two people he loved. She knew a jealousy so deep in that moment that she knew she'd never again question how it was she could have raised such an awful daughter as Nada. The apple did not fall far from the tree and it took a tremendous willpower to pick up her spoon and eat her grapefruit as if nothing was wrong.

"Aunt Nada takes a lot of pills," Violet explained.

Tenet quirked an eyebrow in Bradwin's direction. When the old man gave a small shrug, Tenet turned and accusatory glance at his mother.

Irmara waved a carefully manicured hand. "You know she has always gotten head aches since her child hood accident. And of course there is her back."

"Ah," was all Tenet said. She must still be in great pain, and he suddenly felt very sad for his sister. "Well, I hope she feels well enough to say hello today. Your Aunt Nada and I had some fun times together on this ranch." Violet gave Tenet a bland look that made him laugh. He almost told her how much she looked like her mother when she made that face, and caught himself just in time. "Oh, I know she must seem like a proper old lady to you now, Violet. But there was a time when she was a little girl who liked to run around and have fun."

"I believe that was your father's doing more than anything else," Irmara said to Violet.

Violet tilted her head, then nodded. "Yes. Da is much more fun than Aunt Nada."

Tenet laughed. "A real stuffy pants, is she?"

Irmara could not help the quirk of a smile. "She is exactly as she is expected to be."

Tenet clapped his hands. "Then a challenge it is. Miss Violet, will you join me in the great undertaking of making your stuffy pants Auntie Nada laugh?"

Violet giggled. "Good luck with that one!"

"Violet!" Irmara chastised through her smile. She noticed that even Bradwin found humor in the conversation. That was what they had missed over the years. More than anything, it was Tenet's easy humor and good mood that was lacking on the Bradwin estates since he left. Even if Bradwin himself would deny it until he was blue in the face, life was just more lively when Tenet was around. "You must not speak ill of your aunt."

"I was the one who spoke ill of her," Tenet pointed out. "And I shall continue to do so until she graces me with her presence and I tickle her silly."

"Aunt Nada's ticklish?" Violet could not imagine her aunt doubled over and laughing while being tickled.

An evil little smile spread on Tenet's face. "When we were young, I could get her to do anything I asked simply because she would cry tears of hysteria if I so much as wiggled my fingers in her direction. Is she ticklish? Is the sky blue?"

Udin cleared his throat as he entered the room. All good humor was lost, as if a vacuum sucked it from the air itself. Tenet sighed and motioned for Violet to eat her breakfast as Udin came in and sat opposite him. In a second, there was another presence in the room. Wren. He sat right beside Tenet without saying a word and Tenet instantly felt more at ease. He had wondered what happened to Wren and planned on digging for information after they ate. He was glad that wasn't necessary. He turned in his seat and stuck his hand out.

"We made it, Nori."

Wren gave a curt nod, shook Tenet's hand, then accepted the plate the servant brought and began eating without a word.

"I trust they are treating you well?"

Wren nodded. "I have been given a large set of rooms to live in."

"Where?"

Udin quirked an eyebrow. "Awful intent on Mr. Nori, aren't you, Tenet?" Bradwin was instantly glad he sent for Udin. He'd be able to figure out what eluded his old mind.

Tenet turned to face his old adversary. "Udin, for the past six years, I have been at the mercy of a group of people who...well, I'd rather not look back. My one saving grace was the knowledge that this man was working tirelessly for my safe return. I've had six years of being unable to trust my life in anyone else's hands but his. Yes, I am concerned. I would feel much more secure if he was housed closer to me, as I have seen first hand this man's skill, loyalty, and devotion." Tenet wiped his mouth on his napkin and threw it on the table.

"You seem tense, Tenet," Udin said, trying to get Tenet to slip up.

"You're damn right I'm tense!" Tenet felt Violet's nerves beside him and put his arm around her shoulder, silently begging the Mother to let Violet know it was all just pretend. "Look. I know things. I know about their military and their government. I'm as much a liability to them as I could have been to you. You think they're just going to let me go?" He shook his head. "Oh no. They may be barbarians, but have you ever seen a dog with a bone? They will never let go."

"You believe they will follow you?" Udin said with a frown.

"They already have," Wren butt in. He knew when to stay silent and when to help. This was a time to help. "I killed four of them myself as they chased the transport."

Udin looked at Bradwin and gave a small tilt of his head. Bradwin rubbed his chin slowly. So he really _did_ see riders approaching as he and Violet took off.

"We nearly made it to the pick up location in time," Wren continued, looking right at Tenet's father. "The weather did not cooperate. We just missed the ship."

Bradwin frowned. "How did you know about the pick up?"

"I was in contact with your man, Jace. How do you think you found Tenet in such a vast wilderness?" Wren said it with all the scorn he could muster, as if Bradwin was the biggest moron in the world not to have already figured that out for himself.

Udin sat back and mulled over what the alleged agent was saying. On face, it seemed plausible. Reasonable, even, from what little he knew about the search for Tenet over the years. Things added up. And yet, there was still the doubt he couldn't shake. He was rarely wrong. If his gut was calling bullshit, then there was bullshit. The old man was buying it, that much was clear. Udin frowned and made a mental note to shake Bradwin down for the story, the whole story. He couldn't help if he was left in the dark, and Bradwin did not seem to realize how precarious the situation really was.

"What happened to the hunter?" Udin asked, trying to judge Tenet's reaction.

Tenet shook his head. "I don't know. He wasn't there when we arrived at the specified location."

"Hm. Were you aware that he didn't reach the loading dock for the deserts?"

Tenet shrugged easily. "I have no idea what that means."

"His payment. He was supposed to get a free ride to a new, cushy life. He never showed up. Neither did the lady hunter."

"Udin," Irmara warned. It seemed she was bound to spend her whole morning warning people not to discuss certain things in front of small children. "Perhaps this is a discussion for another time."

"We saw no one but the warriors," Wren said, needing to make his point before the conversation was stopped. "By the time we reached the clearing, there was a transport on the horizon and the air ship was flying away. We decided to follow the air ship and let the hunters go. They were only a means to the end." Wren was proud when he was finished speaking at how smooth and casual he sounded. He knew his speech wasn't quite as polished as the others around the table, but he believed it would pass their test.

Udin assessed the man. There was something out of place, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "And these warriors. You said you killed them?" Wren nodded. "How? I thought the warriors from the north were supposed to be almighty, if the gossip from our borders is to be believed."

"Gossip is only a story not to be trusted. The warriors are men, like any others. If you shoot them, they will die."

Tenet knew how much it had to be killing Wren to say such things about Celtist warriors and he jumped in. "Mother's right. I don't think talk of death and killing is appropriate for everyone here."

Wren turned and went back to eating his meal, relieved for Tenet's interruption. He was mere seconds away from jumping across the table and proving to that sniveling little man Udin just how almighty an Ogden warrior could be, and that would not help their mission one little bit.

It was curious to Udin that Tenet wanted the subject to end, and he filed that away in the growing mental file. For now, he'd do as they wished and change topics. There would be plenty of time later for further digging. "Well, however you did it, you're here now, right? And that means that I've got myself yet another family member to prep for the press."

Tenet lifted the corner of his mouth in a wry smile. "I may have been gone for awhile, but I think I know how to handle the press."

Udin scoffed and sat forward. He never liked Tenet. The boy just rubbed him the wrong way. "Yeah, you really did a stellar job last night, didn't you? Do you have any idea how I spent my night?"

Tenet waved a hand and sat back in his chair. "I _did_ do a stellar job last night." At Udin's glare, Tenet shrugged. "You have to do a little dance in front of the press. Get over it. That's your job. At least everyone is talking about the Bradwins again. At least there _is_ press. Unless things have changed drastically in the last six years, the Leader's Ball is about as interesting as watching a slug cross the yard."

"The Leader's Ball is supposed to be a ceremony of reverence, not a three ring circus," Bradwin pointed out, more than a little offended at the truth behind Tenet's statement.

"Right," Tenet said sarcastically. "Because parading your newfound granddaughter in front of the nation like a trained monkey is the pinnacle of reverence." Bradwin had the decency to look uncomfortable. Tenet turned back to Udin. "When was the last good press this family had, hm? And now you have two juicy tidbits, two pieces of happy news." He picked up his fork and jabbed it into a half eaten slice of peach on his plate. "I'd say I did you a favor." He bit the peach and then pointed the fork at Udin. "In fact, I think you should be thanking me."

Udin's face turned hot with rage and he stood up. "Why you little..."

"Enough!" bellowed Bradwin, rubbing his chest. He snapped his fingers at a servant and the man brought over a little packet of powders. Udin sat down slowly, glaring at Tenet, and Tenet forced himself to eat the peaches as if everything were normal. He had been instructed to act as he used to, and needling Udin had been one of his favorite pastimes.

Bradwin stirred the powders into his glass of water and downed the concoction in two gulps. He'd forgotten just how poisonous Udin and Tenet were when they were in the same room. Six years made a lot of memories fade. He watched as the rest of the group ate in silence for the remainder of the meal and waited for the medicines to take away the burn in his chest. When it was clear everyone was finished, Bradwin called for Violet's maid. "Take the young lady back to her room and dress her properly."

Tenet stood to accompany Violet, but Bradwin told him to sit. "We need to discuss a few things away from little ears," Bradwin said. When that didn't work, he tried a different tactic. "You also need a thorough examination. I need to make sure you aren't bringing some wilderness fever or pox into my house."

"I assure you I am not," Tenet insisted.

"I want my Da," Violet said, gripping Tenet around the legs.

"See?" Tenet said, pointing to Violet. "She wants her Da."

"And I want to speak to my son about adult matters! Will you be chained to her for life, then?"

"Yes."

Bradwin threw his hands in the air. "Oh, for goodness sake..."

"I will take Violet," said Wren. He knew there was great value in Tenet having a private discussion with his father, and he had been carefully watching for signs of danger. The old man seemed content to simply fortify the house to stop Tenet from escaping, and there had been no indication that they were planning on taking Violet from Tenet again. He was confident they would be safe until the migration.

Udin glanced at Bradwin, uncomfortable with the plan. He had hoped to speak with the agent some more, but Bradwin waved a hand in dismissal.

Tenet looked at Wren, then down at Violet. "Violet, you remember Mr. Nori, don't you?"

Violet lifted her head from Tenet's leg and then tilted it. They were playing still, and she knew she had to play along. "I think so."

Tenet gave her a small push. "You go with Mr. Nori and get changed. I'll be up soon and then we can find something to play, okay?"

Violet nodded, then took Wren's hand and they followed the maid out. Tenet watched until he saw them turn down a hall and out of view, and he silently prayed that Wren knew what he was doing. He sighed and turned back to the group.

Irmara rose and moved to Tenet. She went to put her hand on him, then drew it back. She was frustrated with herself that she didn't know how to act or what to say to her own son, and in the end simply dismissed herself from the room with a hasty excuse about seeing to Nada and making her rounds.

"I'm a healer, Mother," Tenet said as she got to the doorway.

She turned. "Truly?"

He nodded. "Yes. There aren't many educated healers up north. Perhaps I could do rounds with you sometime?" He saw a look of pleasure in his mother's face and felt a warmth through him. How many times had he begged to join her as a child? And always she'd allow it only as a means to get him to stop pestering. For the first time, she seemed truly interested in having him join her.

"That will not happen," said Bradwin firmly. He ignored the glare from Irmara. On this, he would not budge. "You are not to leave the grounds."

Tenet quirked an eyebrow at his father, trying to look amused on the outside to mask his sudden and deep disappointment. "Ever?"

Bradwin rubbed at his chest again. "At least until we figure things out."

Irmara pressed her lips together tightly and turned from the room, fuming and aching and needing to get away to sort things out in her head. Tenet watched her go and felt the chill in the room when he was alone with his father and Udin. It might have been his imagination, but it seemed even the sunshine had dimmed. Tenet knew he had to be careful. He knew he had to look for the signs and cues of danger that Scarab had spent years teaching him. He knew he had to take everything that was said with a grain of salt, and keep his eyes on the end goal no matter what manipulative tactics his father had up his sleeve. He took a careful breath to fortify himself, then turned with a smile plastered to his face.

Bradwin looked at his son with interest. In the light of the morning sun, he could see himself fifty years younger. He had doubted the results paternity-matching he had done when Tenet was a baby, but any lingering suspicions evaporated. He wondered idly if being sure back then would have made any difference, if he would have felt more for Tenet or acted differently towards him. "You've changed," he said at length.

Tenet shrugged. "Six years in the wilderness will do that."

"Hm."

Udin looked between the two. If he didn't know his boss so well, he would have thought the old man was softening in his old age. But, he did know his boss. All he had to do was give the man a little nudge. "Yes, well as touching as this father/son bonding moment is, we've got a lot of things to clear up."

Tenet leaned back in his chair and waved a hand. "Ask your questions," he said with his haughtiest voice, the one he knew pissed Udin off like nothing else. The man had always hated him, even though Tenet couldn't imagine why. He was a young teenager when Udin joined his father's press team, and they barely saw each other. To his knowledge, he had never done anything to offend Udin. Over the years, he chalked it up to a basic personality conflict and learned to enjoy setting the normally composed man on edge.

"They aren't my questions," Udin said through clenched teeth. The kid might look different, but he was still the same pampered, self-possessed brat he always was. "They're the nation's questions. You know, the people we do all this for? You were dead to them. And they cared, they really cared. But did you? No. You didn't. You thought you would be all big and bad and traipse off on a wild adventure and..."

"Udin."

Bradwin's quiet command stopped Udin's rant, and Udin was grateful. He remembered how much Tenet's loss had torn at Irmara. He remembered holding her night after night while she sobbed. His perfect china doll, the woman he had always put on a pedestal of poise and grace was reduced to a blubbering mess for months, and all because of Tenet. All because of his selfishness. All because he was a bored rich kid looking for adventure, with no thought or care to the fallout. Just looking at the punk's face brought those memories rushing back, and he almost said so out loud. He almost went there, and none of them in the room would benefit in any way from him unleashing that particular rage. He took a breath and ran a hand through his thinning hair.

Tenet took measured breaths and strove for calm. He didn't want to be goaded into saying something rash that would give them all away. He watched Udin gather himself and rein in the anger. He did not want to push the man enough to make him snap. His own emotions would get the best of him then and that was something he could not risk. "Yes, I did act rashly. I was a child."

Bradwin snorted. "You were a few years into your majority."

Tenet turned to his father. "In years, not experience. Look at me, Father, and tell me I wasn't a child when I left." He didn't let Bradwin answer. He didn't have to. "I was immature, at best. I was hurt and angry at the loss of my military post, I had no marital prospects, no plan for a future, and a lifetime of being shuffled around as someone else's problem."

Bradwin clenched his jaw tightly. "You had everything you ever needed."

Tenet sighed. "I'm not bringing your parenting skills to task. They were lacking in certain ways, as you damn well know, but that's negligible. At this moment, I'm sitting here telling you that I understand what a child I truly was, well past the time I should have been. You can't disagree with that."

Udin's eyes narrowed. "What are you playing at?"

"Everyone keeps asking me that. I'm not playing at anything!" Tenet gave a small, sad laugh to emphasize his point. "I ran. It was stupid and shortsighted and believe me, I've spent the last six years paying dearly for that mistake." He turned to Bradwin. "Father, you were there. You saw that place. You saw the village, how primitive it was. You were there." Tenet hoped he looked hurt and lost. "Why didn't you look for me just a little harder?"

Bradwin felt a niggling of guilt. Just a twinge that was gone almost as it was felt, but guilt nonetheless. It was unfamiliar and entirely unpleasant and he looked to Udin for help.

Much to Udin's surprise, the old man was buying it. If he wasn't in the room, if he wasn't looking at the expression on Bradwin's face for himself, he never would have believed it. The tough buzzard was eating it up just as Irmara always had and Udin's hatred for Tenet grew. "Oh for the love of..." He had to pull in his emotions again. "Nice story, kid."

Tenet shrugged. "It's not a story. It's the truth." He held up his palms and showed the callouses. "I've spent six years in a prison camp. My days were filled with hard labor the likes of which you've never known. I had to split logs with my own hands. I had to pump water from a well. Do you even know what a well is? I had to ride horses. Think about that, Udin. I had to abuse animals on a daily basis just to get by under the radar." He leaned forward and dropped his voice low. "I had to eat meat."

Udin snorted. "Big woo. That makes you like ninety percent of the population."

"You don't eat meat, do you, Udin? Not for a long, long time. And you're very glad for the cushy life you live now, aren't you?" Tenet shook his head before Udin could answer, glad for the embarrassment he saw in the man's face. "Put yourself in my shoes. Yeah, okay. I screwed up. But for someone coming from this life, that one was almost the death of me."

Tenet had good points, as much as it killed Udin to admit. Fifteen years. It had been fifteen years since Udin had to lower himself to eat the meat of an animal to survive, and the time before his employment in the Bradwin household had always been a source of embarrassment for him. He understood Irmara better than anyone else. They shared a common history, even though he was merely from a slave family in the third worlds and not tribal, in the strictest sense of the word. Still, he understood the shame that life carried, and felt a grudging sympathy for Tenet in spite of himself. He squirmed in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable with the shift of power he was feeling. "If you weren't a willing participant, then how do you explain the girl?"

It was working. His father couldn't look him in the eye, and Udin was actually fidgeting in his nervousness. Tenet was so stunned he almost blew it. Udin's eyes narrowed again when Tenet took too long to answer, and Tenet had to quickly cover with a bark of laughter. "You're kidding, right?" he said quickly. He shook his head, his mind scrambling to come up with something believable. "Have you ever been lonely, Udin?"

Udin's face turned red and he looked away.

Bradwin cleared his throat. "Yes, well. I imagine it was horrible for you. And I certainly can't talk about picking up a native, now can I?" He watched the anger pass over Tenet's features as it always did when Bradwin brought Irmara's past up and felt like he was on firm ground once again. He knew this Tenet. He was older, stronger, wiser, perhaps, but he still had familiar buttons to be pushed. "Besides, you got little Violet out of it, so there was some redemption for your troubles."

"Yes, I got Violet." Tenet knew his upper hand had been played out. His father was once again back to his old ways, trying to find weak points he could later use against Tenet. At least he had a moment of control with his father, his first ever.

Bradwin looked at Udin. The man was still flustered and Bradwin sighed to himself. Perhaps he should have rid the house of Udin when he had discovered the affair with Irmara after all. If Udin was getting to where he couldn't brush off the most mild of zingers, then maybe it was time for him to go. Still, he was damn good with the press. Bradwin had never seen better. He would spend the day doing different junkets around the sector and by the next morning, the nation would not only be celebrating Tenet's return, they'd be champing at the bit to punish those responsible. On the surface, Tenet seemed to want to be back. Though Bradwin knew he'd be foolish to accept his son's tale completely, for the time being he saw no harm in going along with it and seeing how it played out.

"Well, I think that's enough interrogation for now. As I said before, I expect you to undergo a thorough medical examination."

Tenet shook his head. "I'm telling you it's unnecessary."

Bradwin shrugged. "Then humor me."

His father was going to discover the missing recorder that Weevil had removed from his leg. Tenet let a few heartbeats pass, struggling to remain calm. He figured he might be able to delay that discovery, but it seemed to be in the forefront of his father's mind. He shrugged as casually as possible, and nodded in concession. "Fair enough. I'll gather Violet and we can leave. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see a real hospital."

"No need," Bradwin said. "Your mother has spent the last few years building a clinic out of our old root cellar." He saw the true surprise on Tenet's face. "Yes, I know. I always said I'd die before I let that happen." He shrugged. "What can I say? I've grown soft in my old age."

Tenet struggled not to laugh outright. Soft? Never. If there was a clinic now in Bradwin's home, Tenet had no doubt it was payment for Irmara's silence. His childhood had taught him that lesson well.

Bradwin called for the guard that had brought Tenet to the breakfast room earlier. When the man entered, he gave him instructions to see Tenet to the clinic and wait until he was finished. "You can spend the day with Violet in the school room afterwards," Bradwin assured Tenet.

Tenet quirked an eyebrow at his father's sudden friendliness. His childhood had also taught him that was simply a bribe, too. He wondered if his father would be so friendly when he learned his tech had been destroyed. What would Bradwin do then? He nodded his good byes and followed the guard out of the room, hoping he didn't look as nervous as he felt.

"He's up to something," Udin said as soon as Tenet was gone.

Bradwin stood and cringed at the popping noise his back made. "If he is, we'll find out."

Udin shook his head. "I don't like this, boss. He shouldn't be allowed to be with the girl."

"Oh for goodness sake, give it a rest. You've always hated him."

Udin stood and frowned. "And so have you. Don't tell me you're losing your edge."

Bradwin's bushy eyebrows drew together. "Don't you patronize me, young man. I've been doing this longer than you've been alive. I can see bullshit when it's piled up to my knees and it'll be a cold day in deep Summer before some little brat pulls the wool over my eyes. I don't trust that kid any more than I ever have. But what's to be gained by being inhospitable at this point, hm? He can't get out, and, most importantly, no one can get in." Bradwin shook his head. "Did you see how well the girl sat for the meal this morning? No itching, no scratching, no hexing people and all that nonsense. For now, we let it ride. If the time comes when it gets to be a problem, at least we'll be close enough to see it coming."

Udin said nothing. When his boss was in that particular mood, there would be no talking sense into him. And he could see the merits in keeping both the girl and Tenet calm. He could certainly sell Tenet to the press easier if Tenet believed they were playing along. And maybe if they gave him enough rope, he'd hang himself so they wouldn't have to. Still, Bradwin had kept too many secrets. "If I had known about him..."

"Oh not this again," Bradwin said tiredly. He was going to have a long day of meetings with his war tribunal and he did not need to once again attempt to justify himself to Udin. "I already gave you my mea culpa. What more do you want?"

"For starts, I need to know if there are any more skeletons in the closet."

Bradwin laughed. Was Udin for real? If the man knew all of the skeletons in Bradwin's enormous closet, he would probably resign. He stopped and turned to the man, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You do a good job for me. No, an excellent one. That's why I've kept you around when others would have let you go." He saw Udin turn red again. "And one of the things I like most about you has always been your incomparable ability to look the other way. There will always be things I don't tell you, because I guarantee they are things you really do not want to know." He squeezed Udin's shoulder harder. Not enough to hurt, but enough to let Udin know it would be in his best interest to drop the subject.

Bradwin's message was loud and clear. Udin swallowed and gave a curt nod. "Yes, sir."

Bradwin flashed a smile. "Good! Now, you go work the press like no one else can, and I'll go figure out what this little incident has done to our war." Without another word, Bradwin turned and walked down the hallway, carrying the look of panic he saw on Udin's face with him.

Udin felt the weight of his years of blind service pushing down on him. As usual, there were things Udin didn't know about the situation. Normally, he could brush that knowledge off by telling himself that every leader kept secrets. They had to. Sometimes they did it to protect people. Sometimes they did it to keep a nation from panicking. Sometimes they did it because they alone could see a threat down the line. But sometimes they kept secrets because they were selfish and evil. Not for the first time, Udin shut down his personal questions. He turned and started for the press room. Later there would be time to wonder. When Udin was a shriveled old man, when Bradwin was dead and gone and he wasn't the mouthpiece any longer, he'd have time to wonder at Bradwin's secrets. While he still had a job to do, though, he couldn't afford to question too deeply. He knew he wouldn't like the answer.

Udin stood outside the marbled press room. He could hear the murmur of the excited reporters, the whirring of the recording bots gearing up to display his every word and movement to the entire public. He took a deep breath, then another. He flexed his lips, making sure his face was loose enough to look relaxed. He tried a smile, then another until he was confident he could pull off the carefree excitement he wanted to portray. If he did his job well, his exuberance would infect the nation. If he played the game properly, the world would be eating out of Bradwin's hands by the end of the day. He took one more breath, plastered on the fake face everyone knew, and stepped into the clicking, whirring, humming, and shouting of the limelight he loved so much.

Chapter 19

Scarab leaned against the side of a building and wiped her sleeve across her sweaty brow. Summer was moving in quickly and the air was hot and humid. She removed the canteen from her belt and took a long swig, watching the group of mechanical harvesters move slowly over the corn fields in the distance. She looked up at the sun and judged that it was about noon. She and her team would have to rest soon. The afternoon sun would make their travel dangerous.

"There are caves past this sector. We'll bunk there for a few hours."

Kenti nodded. He was the leader of the extraction team and the only one whose name Scarab bothered to learn. As soon as she left the bunker in the mountain, she was a hunter again. She closed off her feelings and her worries and concentrated on the mission. It was easier than she thought, as long as she made a point of not getting chummy with the people helping her. If she could have gotten things done without speaking at all, she would have. Since that was impossible, she had to settle for speaking only with the leader. If any of the soldiers minded, they never said. In fact, they were a fast, efficient, quiet bunch, which annoyingly endeared them to her. Maybe once the mission was done she would discover more about them.

Kenti was pleased to let Scarab take the lead. They traveled as bounty hunters. It was risky, but smart. Scarab's reputation was almost legendary in the outlying towns of hunters, outlaws, and other seedy residents of Southland the government tended to ignore. Her name alone had gotten them supplies and information in those places. When they began to get into the farming lands, with more respectable citizens, they decided to keep up the appearance of being bounty hunters. The average, law abiding farmer didn't dare look at a hunter closely. They kept their heads down and went about their lives, determined to pretend outlaws and those who chased them were nothing more than myths. While Kenti wondered how long they could keep up the ruse, Scarab seemed determined to waltz right into the Bradwin estates as the bounty hunter she was.

"I'm smart," she had told him when he suggested they all change into the Southland middle class garb he had. "They know I'm smart. There's no way in hell I'd dare walk in there like a hunter. If they expect me at all, they are expecting me in disguise. It's getting to Summer. The closer we get, the more bounty hunters you'll see in the population centers, gearing up for the huge influx of hunting jobs around migration."

Kenti hadn't been convinced. "Or maybe they'll know you're a brazen bitch who's too cocky to try and pretend to be anything else."

Scarab knew she had a friend for life then. She had actually smiled at the compliment before catching herself. "Need I point out that I'm also female? You've done enough studying of Southland culture that it could not have escaped your attention that a female is far more rare in the upper castes than a bounty hunter. I put on a dress, I get attention. Period."

In the end, Kenti saw her point of view. He wasn't comfortable with it, but staying in their hunting gear was the best option. Besides, he saw a change come over Scarab when she put it on. It was as if all the years of soft living as a wife and mother melted away. He was certain he would have liked her on his team permanently. He'd make the offer when they were finished, but he doubted she'd accept. The past two rest periods when she thought everyone was asleep, he could hear her sniff quietly as she sat watch. It was clear which life she wanted, no matter how good she was in the field. It was disappointing, but Kenti couldn't blame her.

They made their way to the caves. They had ditched their transport at the last outpost before the vegetable farms. Every transport people used in the cultured sectors ran on the invisible magnetic grid while theirs ran on old fashioned tires and smelly gasoline. They would have made much better time in the vehicle, but couldn't take that much of a risk. Scarab pushed them hard, and they were already to the corn sectors. Kenti was impressed, both with her determination and the grit of his team. He told them so when they reached the cave.

Scarab let them have their praise for only a moment before raining on their parade. "We'll be there tonight if we don't dally. Get a four hour break. We'll head out around sundown."

Kenti almost said something. There was a fine line between pushing people to be the best, and pushing them too far. But the closer they got to her husband and child, the colder Scarab became. In the end, he knew his people could see that as well and wouldn't take it personally. He confirmed the order and they hastily gobbled some protein cubes before lying down.

Scarab stood at the mouth of the cave and stared out into the hot afternoon. It seemed she was always watching and waiting these days when all she wanted to do was run. She let out a deep sigh and rubbed the back of her neck.

"You should sleep as well," Kenti said coming up behind her.

"I'll sleep when I have them back." It was the same thing she said to him when they broke for the night, and she saw the worried look on his face. "I used to run for days straight, Kenti. Do you think I'd risk getting sloppy when we're so close? Trust me, I know my limits."

Kenti sighed. "I'm not your enemy, here."

Scarab struggled not to feel bad. "I know."

"You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar."

"And you can kill more people with a bomb than a knife."

Kenti frowned, then laughed. "And what in the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Sometimes you have to be loud and brash to get the job done. I can't tiptoe around peoples' feelings right now."

Kenti tipped his head. "I can respect that. I've been an agent for a long time. I get that there's a line in the sand you can't cross." He pointed his thumb behind him to his sleeping team. "But, if you carry it too far, they aren't going to want to pull your ass out of the fire."

Scarab sighed and turned away. "It's their job."

"And they'll do it better if they like you."

Though Scarab knew what he was saying and agreed on one level, she would not give in. It wasn't for them. It was for herself. Yet, how could she possibly explain? Tenet would understand. He would get it. The sudden thought of him sent a ripple of pain through her and she forced herself to push it back. It made her voice even colder when she spoke. "If that's true, then they aren't very good agents, are they?"

Kenti swore and shook his head. There was no reasoning with her. He'd have to do damage control on his own with his team later. He gave up and went to bed.

Scarab balled her fist up and smacked it against the rock wall to take her mind off the sudden well of emotion that threatened to break her resolve. She took a deep breath, trying to get thoughts of Tenet out of her mind. Violet's face flashed before her, and she pounded the wall harder. Concentrate on the pain in the hand, she told herself. Forget the tightness in the chest. There was Wren to worry about. Was he accepted? Did they buy his routine? And Takar, so lost and yet so determined. Young Lendyl, he'd soon face a war against machines and he was barely old enough to have a full beard! And why? Why? Because she never cleaned up the problem in the first place. She slammed her hand in the wall again and cursed Kenti for pressing the issue, for bringing them all up. There were too many people to worry about. It was so much easier alone. When had so many people become important to her? And now, Kenti was asking her to take on more?

Scarab couldn't stay in the cave. She had to move. She had to get some distance. She stepped out into the burning sun and tilted her head up, remembering all the hard, lonely Summers of her hunting days. She climbed to the top of the rocky outcropping and stared at the land around her. Corn fields stretched for miles around. Half harvested by now, there were whole rows of nakedness that stretched to the horizon where nothing moved at all. Stark, empty stalks, no more than broken nubs drying in the early Summer sun. The dirt was already cracking on those rows. Soon the rest of the green would be gone. Soon the other stalks would be nothing more than memories. Soon the automatic harvesters would be shut down and the only living things would be scrambling away for the season to leave nothing but barren fields of ash behind. She wished for that weather. She wished she was down in the sector in High Summer like before. It would be so much easier to forget and pretend with nothing but hot wind around her.

Scarab sat down on the rock. She had no Summer suit. Not only was that almost an impossible get for the Borderlands agents, but it wasn't yet time for hunters to be wearing them. She would have stuck out like a sore thumb if she had donned the protective gear so early in the season. In her common clothing, she could feel the heat of the rock through her pants. The heat was just to the point of discomfort without being dangerous, and she concentrated on that sensation. Her hand throbbed and she looked down, not surprised to see the knuckles scuffed and already purpling with bruises. She flexed her fingers and winced at the pain, then did it again. She concentrated on the heat and the pain and the silence, and let everything else melt away.

Hours later and feeling more secure, she entered the cave and woke the team. "We're getting close. We'll be to the Hacienda tonight."

The Hacienda was the hotel they'd be staying in. It was a middle class establishment that catered to the seedier side of the caste. The hotel rented out rooms by the hour and didn't scan for identification, the ideal place to have affairs and make less-than-legal business deals while maintaining an appearance of decorum. It wasn't the kind of place a hunter would normally stay, but it wasn't so unheard of as to raise suspicions. The odds of Scarab running into anyone from her old life there were very slim, and it was close to the Bradwin estates. It would serve as their base of operations, and Scarab was eager to get there. The sooner they could get to the Hacienda, the sooner she would be on her own.

"Keep your eyes up. Look mean," she told them as they geared up. "We'll be running into crowds the closer we get. Just keep looking straight ahead as if you don't have a care in the world. You have to be cocky and rude. Do not look down. A hunter never would. If someone stares at you, stare them right in the eye like you want to kill them. That's the only way we're going to sell this."

They headed out into the cooler evening air and made excellent time. As Scarab said, they passed more and more people the closer they got to the city, and they all did admirably at staring anyone who dared to look them in the eye down. Scarab was proud of them when they made a troop of soldiers uncomfortable, and she walked with even more confidence into the Hacienda.

"We need three rooms," she said to the man behind the desk.

"Name?"

Scarab snorted. "Since when do you take names?"

"Since the city's on lock down." He shook his head. "You been in a cave all week or what?"

It was so close to the truth that Scarab almost laughed. "We've been rolling in from the outposts for the season. Not much news up that way."

He leaned forward. "The Bradwin brat's back. With a kid!"

Scarab kept her features bland. "And that affects me exactly how?"

The man frowned. "You don't care?"

"Look, kid," she said, even though the man had to be at least ten years older than her. "I didn't care when he left, I don't care if he's back."
He held up his hands. "Hey, you asked."

"What I want to know is what the hell this has to do with me getting a room." She pulled out a bank card and slapped it on the desk. "Take my money, give me a key card." Kenti was impressed with her balls. He wondered if he'd be able to pull off that attitude himself in her shoes.

The man behind the desk gave a fake smile. "Gladly! Name?"

Scarab leaned forward. "Bounty hunter with an itchy trigger finger."

The man looked scared and tapped his fingers on the desk for a second before snatching up the bank card and swiping it through his register. There was more than enough money in the account for the rooms for as long as they wanted to stay and he suddenly had a thought. He leaned in. "Look," he whispered conspiratorially. "Perhaps we've gotten off on the wrong foot. What say for fifty credits I enter you as Mrs. Cordelia Smatty. We'll say you're having a family reunion."

Scarab plastered a fake smile on her face. "I haven't seen them in ages. Should be fun."

"But I'm warning you," he said, turning serious. "I won't be on the chopping block, okay? Anyone comes sniffing around for some bounty hunters, I won't cover for you."

To Kenti's surprise, Scarab agreed. "Fair enough." She leaned on the desk and looked around the lobby, glaring at a male prostitute who was giving her the eye. He looked away and Scarab gave a little chuckle. The man behind the desk entered the information into his dock.

"How long will you be staying?"

"Till we get jobs."

His fingers stopped on the keys. "I have to have a number of days."

"Season opens in what? Six days? Put that." Kenti quirked an eyebrow but didn't say anything. If everything went well, they wouldn't need half as many days.

"I assume you're prepaying?"

"But of course," Scarab said dryly, knowing full well any difference would be going in the man's pocket instead of the hotel's till. It didn't matter. She'd find a way to pay back the team that obviously worked hard to scrape up the credits in the account. After another moment, the man handed over two key cards. "I said three rooms."

The man looked at her like she lost her mind. "Hello, it's the height of ball season in a town turned upside down with the news story of the century. You're lucky I have anything open at all!"

Scarab knew arguing was pointless. She took the cards and dismissed the bot that appeared for their luggage. Like all hunters, they traveled only with one pack on each of their backs and would never let them out of their sight. To allow a bot to carry their supplies would have been out of character. The bot hovered for a moment before Scarab gave the dismissal command a second time. It turned and floated away and Scarab lead the group up the stairs of the hotel to their rooms.

"Nice work back there," Kenti said when they were finally in their rooms.

"I would bet money on it that if we're not being monitored already, we will be," Scarab said very quietly as she pulled out the special unitool Weevil had given her. She put her finger to her lips and began to scan the room looking for any electrical signature that would indicate a listening device. She found a standard one attached to the lines of the com dock on the desk, but no others. She went into the second room and did the same scan, then broadened the scope of the infrared scanner. The hotel was clean, at least for the time being, and she told her team as much as they gathered in Scarab's room.

"For now," Kenti said.

Scarab nodded. "Bradwin's a conceited ass. If we're lucky, he's cocky enough to think his show of force will be enough to stop someone."

"We can't plan for that," Kent said with concern.

Scarab sighed. "I'm not. I'm just saying, until you've dealt with him, you can't believe the level of ego on that man. I bet right now he's got himself convinced Tenet's return was somehow his doing."

Kenti saw her point. From what he'd learned about Southland and New Canada, it certainly fit. "We'll know more when I get an update from our people on site."

Scarab shook her head. "I'm not comfortable with that."

"You'd rather go in blind?"

"Of course not," she snapped. "But I think the risk is greater if anyone in there tries to contact anyone out here."

"Like I've told you, we got this. This isn't our first day on the job, you know." He shot her a look meant to embarrass her at the insult. Instead it only seemed to annoy her. "Come on, Scarab. You have to trust us. We're using such old tech that I guarantee they won't detect it. They haven't yet."

Scarab knew he was correct. As much as she hated to admit it, she could not simply go in there blind. That would be far more dangerous than risking a transmission. "If they're discovered, then all of this is for nothing."

"And if you try charging in there half-cocked, then you will fail. I know you want them back. I know it's killing you to be this close and still so far away."

Scarab saw the sympathy in his eyes, in the eyes of the other intentionally nameless agents, and she felt a flare of anger course through her. No. She could take angry words and barked orders. She could handle cold shoulders and vicious looks. But she would not tolerate sympathy. She nodded her head quickly then turned from them. "Leave my room. I need to prepare. Let me know as soon as you receive a transmission."

Kenti saw his people bristle again and knew he'd have to smooth things over. He sighed and motioned them out the door to the other room. "Cut her slack," he said to them over their harsh words. "Put yourself in her shoes."

One of the agents scoffed. "I'll never be in her shoes."

"Exactly. Not one of us has a spouse or child. Imagine what that's doing to her. Now, let's do what we can to help, okay?"

Scarab showered and changed clothing, washing off the grime of the trip and giving herself something to do to keep her mind off of the fact that she was only two miles away from everything that mattered to her. She combed her hair into a more Southland friendly style, then looked out the window at the city she had always hated. She watched the people bustle around as if their pathetic little lives mattered until the anxiety and frustration made her begin to pace. She felt like a caged animal. On a good day she hated waiting. But as stressed as she was, as tense and nervous, the seconds ticked by like blows from a hammer. By the time Kenti finally returned over an hour later with news, she was ready to snap.

"Well?" she demanded as soon as he entered the room.

"Tonight is some ball. Bradwin and the missus are attending, but no provisions for any of the other family members have been made. Looks like a press op more than anything."

Scarab's heart soared. "They'll be in the manor alone?"

Kenti snorted. "Hardly." He shook his head. "Look, I hate to bring bad news..."

"So don't," Scarab warned.

Kenti actually shivered. "They're far better prepared than we thought. Not only do they have the electro perimeters we figured on, but they've got tons of human guards as well."

Scarab took a breath. "Okay. More difficult, I'll admit..."

"And bots, Scarab."

Scarab stopped talking and looked at Kenti. He was serious. "Summer bots?" she asked, even though the look on his face told her everything she needed to know. She shook her head. "No way. There's no way that kind of bot could be allowed around the other people."

"We didn't think so either, but they are. They're out every night scanning the grounds."

Scarab frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "How? They can't differentiate between good and bad. They're just mindless killing machines."

He shrugged. "I don't know. They must have honed the tech."

"Shit." It was a game changer for sure.

"I think we need to contact Krupkie and see if we can come up with..."

"We stick with the plan," Scarab said quickly, cutting him off.

Kenti's eyes went wide. "No."

But Scarab's mind was already racing. "I'll watch them. I'll find a position high up and watch their sweep pattern."

"Scarab, no. We don't know what they're capable of. We don't even know how they target, or..." his voice trailed off. He saw the look in her eyes and felt the dread gathering in the pit of his stomach. "It's suicide!"

Scarab didn't need the man or his team. She was certain she could do it herself if she absolutely had to. But things would be much easier on them all with their help, and she didn't want the team to abandon her and her family. "Have you ever held your child to you, Kenti?"

The question threw him for a loop and he blinked for a second struggling to shift mental gears. "Uh, no. I don't have a child. We're not allowed to have a family while on active duty."

"And why is that?"

"Because if we did, we'd make stupid decisions because of our emotions."

Scarab nodded. "That's the theory, sure. But what if you made better decisions because so much was on the line?"

Kenti saw what she was doing. "Oh, no. Nope. There's no way you're getting my approval here."

"I don't need your approval. I'm asking for your understanding." She pointed to the window. "Two miles away, Kenti. That's it. And Bradwin actually thinks a few hunks of metal and some invisible gates can keep me away." She swallowed hard. "I hunted for fourteen seasons, both Winter and Summer. And not once did I have a solid plan. Do you know why? Because things change like that." She snapped her fingers. "Okay, so things aren't how you planned. That's fine. Have you watched wraiths tear people apart in front of you and had to scramble to make it out alive?"

Kenti crossed his arms over his chest, torn between admiration for her low tactics, and his own stubborn determination. "This is hardly the same thing."

"It's exactly the same thing! I didn't lose a single bounty. Not one. I got not only myself out of the scrapes, but the bounties as well. You think that happens on accident? No. That happens because I can reevaluate on the fly to keep them alive. And they all meant shit to me. You don't think I can watch a few bots and make a plan to save the people I love?"

It went against protocol. Krupkie would be furious. Hell, even if everything went well and they made it to the border safe and secure with Tenet and baby in tow he'd probably have to answer for his actions. He swore softly. "I can't condone this."

"Then don't. Krupkie knows I'm a loose cannon already."

Kenti fought with himself for a minute before swearing again and leaving the room. Scarab stared after him and was about to follow when he returned with some sort of device. "This is an old communicator called a walkie talkie." He handed it over to Scarab. "It uses radio waves to transmit sound, if you can believe it. You press that button there and talk, then let go of the button and I'll answer. I swear to God Himself that if you don't tell Krupkie that you stole it and headed out without permission, I'll hunt you down and..."

Scarab flashed him a grin that stopped him in his tracks.

"Oh, God," he moaned. "I'm a dead man."

"How far can I use this?"

"A few miles. Don't worry about it. We'll be close enough for it to reach me even if you have to go around and approach from the south." He sighed heavily, and Scarab almost felt bad for the position she was putting him in. "At least promise me you'll call for help if you need it."

Scarab nodded, even though they both knew it was a hollow promise. "What will you tell the others?"

"That you're a bitch who wants to work on her own. They already think that anyway."

"Good," she said, not the least bit offended. "I'll make it up to them when we're home." Scarab put her pack on and secured the walkie talkie to her belt.

"You're going right now?"

"Of course."

"Of course," Kenti repeated, feeling defeat. "You remember the meeting point?"

Scarab gave him a quick nod, then left him standing alone in her room. She heard him swear and kick something and she smiled to herself. He did a good job getting them there. Now, it was her turn.

Chapter 20

Tenet sat in the fading evening sun and watched his daughter run around the grounds surrounding the gazebo. His leg was sore from the machines prodding his scar where the transmitter had been removed by Weevil all those years ago, as if the machine just couldn't believe it wasn't there. His father had been furious, but held his temper well and seemed to buy Tenet's story that it was removed by the hunter before they left Southland. Udin hadn't known anything about it, something Tenet found curious. He assumed his father's right hand man knew everything that went on. Apparently there were things Bradwin told no one.

Violet spun in circles, holding her arms out and tilting her head back. Tenet smiled. So far it didn't seem like this whole ordeal had changed her, and he knew Scarab would be beside herself with relief. He desperately wanted to ask Wren if he'd had any notice from anyone on the plan of escape, but with all the guards and bots around, he barely dared to speak to Wren about mundane things, let alone secret plans. His father and mother had a ball to attend that night. He had heard something about an accelerated migration, though when he asked about it directly, his father refused to elaborate. They had a couple days at most before they'd be leaving for New Canada. If Scarab was going to get him, it had to be before then.

"You look tense," Wren said from his seat next to Tenet. He, too, watched Violet with interest, always looking to see if there was danger approaching.

"I am tense. It's been a tense few days."

"Let me get you a drink," Wren said. He had been looking for an opportunity to pass Tenet some information and seized the moment. He slipped his hand in his pocket and grabbed the small piece of paper, then stuck it in his palm as he poured Tenet some lemonade.

Tenet quirked an eyebrow in question, but accepted the drink. As soon as his hand closed around the glass, he felt the corner of the paper and his eyes widened slightly. "Thank you. I was parched," he said, easing the paper into his hand. He took a sip of the drink and scanned the area casually.

"It's very wide and open here," said Wren. "Not as many people as I would have expected on a southern farm."

It took Tenet a minute to realize that Wren was talking in code. He was telling Tenet that all was clear and he could read the note, and once it dawned on him that was Wren's real message, Tenet quickly unfolded the paper.

_Team checked in. Waiting for instructions_.

It was small, but it was enough. Tenet felt the flood of relief and almost gave them away until he caught Wren's pointed look. "Yeah, uh, I think everyone's busy with harvest balls and such," Tenet said. Scarab was safe. He breathed a sigh of relief and crammed the piece of paper deep in his pocket.

Violet came running, sweating and breathing hard but smiling. "That's enough spinning for me," she said before she flopped on the bench next to Tenet. "I'm sweating my balls off."

"Violet!" Tenet said, torn between laughing and groaning. "You can't repeat everything you hear."

Violet shrugged and reached for a glass of water. She took a big gulp then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. In her fancy clothing, the rough language and carefree demeanor highlighted the differences between the two possible lives for her. For the first time since she was born, Tenet had a fleeting moment of worry that he was denying her a better life. "Violet," he began, only to be cut off from the sound of the door to the house opening. A familiar voice drifted to him on the breeze and any thoughts about Violet's upbringing were put on hold as he stood to look at his sister.

Nada was nattering at Merle, her nasally voice cutting through the thick evening air as it always had. In front of her marched two prim and proper children, and beside her strode the brow-beaten Merle. If Tenet had to draw a picture of his sister as a wife and mother, that was the very image he would have drawn. She was almost to the gazebo before she stopped handing out instructions and actually turned and looked up. For a second, her step faltered and Merle caught her elbow. For the briefest of moments, she smiled up at her big brother as if the years between them had melted away, and Tenet held his hands out for a hug. Just like that, the moment passed. It was as if the familiar affection hurt her, and she schooled her features just as their mother always did. "Tenet," she said, struggling to say anything at all.

Tenet felt the loss like a blow. "No hug for me, sister?"

The silence grew until Merle could no longer stand it and held his hand out. "Tenet, welcome back."

Tenet took Merle's hand and smiled sadly. "Ah, Merle. I knew you would win in the end."

Win? Merle felt like laughing with bitterness. "Yes. Well." He cleared his throat. "Uh, our children. Children, I present you to your uncle, Tenet. This is Auger, and this is Anka."

Tenet crouched low to look at his niece and nephew. They were twins, but not identical. Anka looked like Merle, and Auger looked like Nada. "Well hello, you two." Anka bowed her head primly, then looked away. Auger stared, his finger back up his nose. Yes, Tenet thought. Exactly what he would have expected of Nada's children. He sighed and stood back up. "As you can see, we've got refreshments. Please feel free to join Violet."

Anka regally mounted the stairs and sat as far from Violet as possible, while Auger sat right beside her. Tenet found it interesting and wondered what Violet did to piss little Anka off. He motioned to Merle and Nada to join he and Wren, and told himself to have patience when Nada passed him coldly.

"Would you have any wine out here?" Merle asked.

Tenet shook his head. "No, lemonade and water."

Nada took a seat on the edge of the bench and snapped open a fan. "Have lemonade for tonight," she commanded Merle. Tenet looked between the two and wondered at the animosity, but was relieved when Merle grabbed a glass of lemonade without argument and sat.

Tenet took his own seat and ran a hand over his sweaty brow. "I don't remember it being so hot," he said, trying to end the uncomfortable silence.

"Don't you have Summer in the wilderness?" Merle asked.

"Not like it is here. There are four distinct seasons up there, a little bit of everything. It gets hot, but not enough to scorch. Like a New Canada Summer."

"Interesting," said Merle. In spite of the lack of wine, he had looked forward to speaking with Tenet about the great unknown land. His wife could be as snooty as she wanted. He planned to enjoy the conversation. "So you have winter as well? Like, with snow?"

Tenet nodded, then laughed at Merle's look of horror. "I know. I was terrified myself that first year. You can't imagine the fear as you stand in your house and watch the snow pile deeper and deeper like you're being buried alive in an ice coffin."

"I can't imagine! How did you make it without going mad?"

"He seems to have managed to find something to do with his spare time," Nada said icily, shooting a pointed glare in Violet's direction.

Tenet's hand tightened around his glass and he could almost feel Wren's silent warning. He took a careful breath. He had forgotten just how sharp Nada could be when she felt like she was backed into a corner. He took a sip of the lemonade to buy his temper time to cool, then placed it on the table and sat forward. "I do not believe you want to discuss certain things with me, little sister."

Nada's eyes widened and the heat crept up into her cheeks. She fanned herself furiously, wishing she could take back the comment. She hadn't meant to piss him off, truly. She was stunned at the emotions that threatened to break her when she saw him, her Tenny, her defender and true champion all through her childhood that had simply up and left her one day as if she never meant anything to him at all. Everything she felt for him over the years roiled inside and came to the surface as soon as she laid eyes on his handsome face. She was thrilled and pissed and excited and deeply hurt all at once.

"Da!" Tenet turned to Violet. She was standing on a bench and pointing at something across the lawn. He stood and crossed to her, afraid something was wrong. "What's that blinking?" she asked.

Tenet looked, then felt a smile spread. "That, my dear young lady, is a lightning bug."

Violet wrinkled her nose. "What's that?"

He held his hand out for her to take. "Come. I'll show you."

Violet hopped off the bench and ordered Auger to follow. The boy stood and followed them across the lawn without question. Tenet pulled them along until they got close to the small, glowing bug. Carefully Tenet scooped it up in his hand and held it out for his daughter.

"It's a bug," Violet said flatly.

Tenet laughed. "I told you it was. Here. Hold your hand out."

"Will it burn me?"

"No, silly."

Violet bit her lip and held out her hand. Tenet carefully put the little bug into her palm and her eyes went wide when it began blinking again. "How does it light up?"

"Bioluminescence," Tenet told her.

"Bio what?"

"Bioluminescence," Auger repeated, stunning both of the others. "It means it's got light juice in its butt."

Violet giggled and Tenet smiled. "A man of science, are you, Auger?"

The boy shrugged. "If you squish it, the light juice gets all over your hands."

"Don't squish it. It's too pretty."

"It is pretty," Tenet said. "And it's a wild creature. We don't want to harm wild creatures, do we?" He guided Violet's hand to the grass. "Now, let's let it go. It'll fly around with its friends and give us a good show."

Violet let the bug go and watched as it blinked and got further and further away from them. She took her Da's hand again. "Do we have biolumy things at home?"

Tenet gave her hand a quick squeeze. "We are home," he said.

"Oh. Yeah."

They turned and headed back to the gazebo. Tenet saw that Anka was standing and watching them. As soon as they got near, she turned and dropped back in her seat, and he felt bad for the little girl who was as stubborn as her mother.

"Playing with bugs, Tenet?" Nada asked, fanning herself again.

He smiled and shrugged. "You used to play with them, too," he pointed out.

"Years and years ago."

Tenet sighed and sat down. "Yes. Years and years ago. But what fun it was. I was telling Violet earlier how much fun you used to be."

Merle snorted into his lemonade, earning a scathing look from his wife. "Yes, well. I had responsibilities," Nada defended. "I had to grow up fast and save the face of the family."

She was trying to make Tenet feel bad. It occurred to him that at one time, her guilt trip would have worked. He would have felt horrid and begged and groveled until she deigned to forgive him. He was almost shocked to discover he felt no guilt at all. He turned to look at the children. Anka was ignoring Violet and Auger who sat and chatted. Auger's finger was still in his nose and Tenet shook his head.

"Auger, did you know that I am a medic like your grandmother?"

Auger turned and shook his head.

"Well I am. And I can tell you from a medical standpoint that what you are doing with that finger in your nose could well be the death of us all."

"Tenet, don't be foolish," Nada snapped.

"It's true," he said, turning to Nada. "Don't tell me you've forgotten where wraiths come from?"

Nada looked confused for a second before she rolled her eyes. "Oh, no. Not this..."

Tenet stood and walked to the kids. He crouched down in front of Auger and put on his serious face. "You know what wraiths are, don't you?"

"Monsters," Auger whispered, looking around quickly.

"That's right. Horrible, ghastly monsters that look like people. Do you know why they look like people?" Auger's eyes were wide as he shook his head again. "Because they hatch from the eggs that we have deep in our heads."

Anka gasped and Auger looked terrified. "I don't have eggs in my head!"

"Oh yes you do. We all do. They're crammed up, right near our brains." He pointed up his nose. "Way deep inside."

"That's not true!" Anka said. "People can't have wraith babies!"

"Why not?" Tenet asked, turning to the little girl. "Mummies have regular babies, right? Wraiths can come from anyone. How else could they look like people?" He turned back to Auger, certain the logic would make sense to the children. "Now, as long as you leave the eggs alone, they will never hatch. They will die and fall out and there won't be any wraiths because of you." He held up a finger. "But, if you dig around up there, you'll knock them out when they're still good and they'll fall to the ground and hatch into a wraith."

Auger's eyes went wide and he quickly pulled his finger from his nose. "I never saw an egg!"

Tenet nodded firmly and patted his chest in feigned relief. "Good! Then we aren't too late. Just don't ever, ever do that again. Got it?"

Auger nodded quickly. "I promise."

Tenet smiled and rubbed his hair. "Good man. Now, you children finish your snack before bedtime." When he sat back in his seat, he saw Nada's look. It was the same look of bemused annoyance Scarab gave him when he told Violet such ridiculous stories. "What?"

Nada bit her lip. She did not want to smile. She refused. And yet, that was the same story he told her when she was young. "I had nightmares for years that I'd wake up to see a wraith baby on my pillow," she hissed, quiet enough that the children couldn't hear.

Tenet threw his head back and laugh. "Got you to stop that disgusting habit, didn't it?"

Nada's face burned, and she refused to look in her husband's direction. "I was a little child. All little children are disgusting."

Tenet smiled at his sister's discomfort. "I guarantee he'll never stick that finger up there again."

"He's smart enough to figure it out, you know," she said defensively.

"He's too young to question it." He waved a hand. "Come on. Admit it. I'm a good uncle."

He used to say, "I'm a good big brother." And then he would tickle her until she agreed. The fact that he now changed it to uncle brought her back to the present and killed the good humor between them. She swallowed back her unexpected tears. "You just left," she said quietly. "You didn't even tell me."

"I couldn't," he said, begging her to understand.

"You left me to face them all alone."

"You had me," Merle said with a frown.

Nada waved him off. "This isn't about you."

"And it's not about you, either," Merle said, raising his voice.

"It's okay, Merle," Tenet said. The last thing he wanted was a blow up.

"No, Tenet, it's not." Merle turned and looked at his wife. "It was not about you then, and it is not about you now. Your brother ran because they forced his hand, and you full well know it. You are a woman. You have no idea what it's like to be a man, to face an uncertain future when no one is interested in your suit. He was forced from the military for things he couldn't control, and months passed without your father appointing him a government seat." He shook his head firmly. "I'm sorry, Nada. But you do not know what you're talking about!"

Nada's eyes were huge and her mouth flapped open in utter shock. Merle never spoke to her like that. Never! She tried to put him in his place, but no words would come. Her mouth opened and closed with strange little gasping noises and she felt her heart race in her chest.

Tenet watched the two of them and rightly guessed that Merle never spoke up against his sister. Few ever really did. He knew he should have felt bad for causing so much chaos in their lives yet again, but he found himself highly amused. What little he'd seen of Nada so far had started to eat at his treasured memories of the two of them as children. He leaned back against the bench and crossed one leg over the other, enjoying the show.

Nada's heart was really racing. Tenet had the gall to sit there looking amused, and Merle was ordering wine from a butler, no doubt about to get himself good and sloshed. And she sat there, humiliated, angry, sad and lonely and lost and... She snapped open her fan and fluttered it in front of her face, hoping the cool waft of air would calm her and stop her heart from pounding so. After a moment, she began to feel light-headed. She stood abruptly, intending to go to her rooms and take as many pills as she needed to that night in order to stop feeling so much. She had a brief sensation of twirling before she crumpled to the gazebo floor.

"Mother!" gasped Auger.

Tenet knelt on the floor next to her and felt for a pulse. Her heart raced and her skin was clammy. He frowned and looked up at Merle. "Has she been ill?"

"I killed her," Merle said, blinking as if he couldn't believe the sight in front of him.

Tenet sighed. "She's not dead, merely passed out. Has she been ill?" he repeated.

"Did you really kill Mother?" Anka asked in a panic.

"Let Da work!" Violet ordered.

Tenet undid the top button of Nada's dress and leaned down to listen to her breathing, his frown deepening when he heard her quick, shallow breaths. He looked back to Merle. The man sat there gaping stupidly, completely at a loss. "Merle!" he snapped. When the man's gaze finally met his, Tenet spoke as calmly as he could. "I asked you if she has been ill."

Merle began to shake his head, then bit his lip. "She is...well, if she takes her pills, it's..." Merle reached into his coat and pulled out a small vial. He stared at it guiltily before handing it over.

Tenet looked at the vial and instantly knew what was it contained. Still, he popped the top and sniffed to be certain. The sickly sweet smell of widow weed reached his nostrils and he closed his eyes tightly against the pain for his sister. "Get the children inside," he ordered.

Merle felt a shiver at Tenet's cold voice. He jumped up and gathered the children and hurried them inside, a new brand of panic taking over. He'd been yelled at by Irmara, hen-pecked into submission by Nada, and even the source of Bradwin's explosive temper a time or two through the years in the Bradwin clan. However, he had never before felt that he was in true jeopardy until that moment. He grabbed his children by the hand and all but ran into the house, leaving Violet behind in the gazebo.

Tenet watched the coward race off into the dark, and shook his head. "What a sniveling, slimy little worm. And to think I used to like him."

"Should I take Miss Violet?" Wren asked, crouching beside Tenet.

Tenet nodded. "Take her to our rooms. I'll be up shortly."

Violet bit her lip. "Is Aunt Nada going to be okay?"

Tenet sighed and ran a hand through his hair. No. She wasn't. Had she ever been? But he couldn't explain it to a five year old. "For now, yes." Violet hesitated a minute before taking Wren's hand and allowing him to bring her in the manor.

Tenet turned back to his sister. She was clearly heavily addicted and he knew that the short term solution was to make her take another pill. Her body had become dependent. However, the physician in him rebelled against the very idea. He lived a life of healing, not harming. And yet, she suffered. He swore in his frustration and took one of the pills. He'd give her a little, just enough to calm her pulse and stabilize her breathing. He broke a piece off and shoved it under her tongue, then shifted so her head lay on his lap. He stroked her hair out of her face, his hands sticking in the gel that had started to seep with her sweat. He glanced at his watch and decided that if her symptoms didn't ease within fifteen minutes, he'd give her just a little more of the pill.

The minutes ticked by until he felt her pulse slow and saw that she was drawing deeper breaths. After a couple more minutes, her eyelids began to flutter.

"Wake up, Nada," he said firmly.

The eyeballs rolled behind their lids, and when Tenet lightly patted her cheeks, Nada finally woke. She lay staring up at him, the confusion clear in her bloodshot eyes. She blinked a few times before things started to come back to her. She moaned and pushed herself up.

"Easy," Tenet said, holding her arm in case she started to fall again.

Nada closed her eyes against the swirling world around her. She took a deep breath, then another. She didn't need to ask what happened, she knew full well. And by the look in Tenet's eye, he did, too. She'd only swooned a couple of times when she didn't get her pills on schedule, and she knew she was taking a risk seeing Tenet that evening without them. But she wanted to see him with her own eyes, not ones clouded by the hazy numbness of the pills. There was a horrid taste in her mouth, and her humiliation was heightened by the knowledge that Tenet had not only figured out her secret, but had been forced to give her a pill to bring her back around.

Tenet stared at his sister. It was clear she was aware of what happened. She wouldn't look at him and her face burned in embarrassment. Tenet tried to feel cold and disconnected, as he did with his patients. When that didn't work, he tried for anger. How dare she? She had children! How dare she be so damn selfish? But the anger didn't last. His sister sat there, her perfect hair messed, her expensive dress crumpled and dirty, her made up face smeared. His hand closed over the vial of pills and though he tried to hold on to the easy comfort of anger, all he could feel was a consuming sadness.

He stood and held his hand down for her to take. Nada felt a tear slip out of her eye as she took her Tenny's hand. He pulled her up and slipped his arm around her waist for support as he silently guided her to the house. It didn't escape Tenet's notice that the butler had the good sense to look away in shame, and he wondered if the man was the one that got Nada the drugs. He brought her to her family's wing and she stiffened and pulled away.

"Nada," he began.

"It was nice seeing you again, Tenet," she said from her cold, distant perch high atop her imaginary throne.

Tenet was stung by the tone. "Look, you don't have to live like this."

Nada gave a humorless laugh. "Some things never change, do they, Tenny? You're older and stronger, but my word are you still naive." Nada patted her gooey hair and did her best to smooth her gown. She turned a sad look on him, then held out her hand, palm up.

For the briefest of moments, Tenet believed she was asking for a hug, or at least a hand shake. After a second, though, her true intent dawned on him. With a bitter taste in his mouth, he pulled the pills out of his pocket and slapped the vial into her palm. He saw a quick flash of pain and regret in her eyes before she spun around and entered her room, slamming the door in his face. He balled his fist in frustration and would have pounded it into the door if a servant hadn't rounded the corner. He turned and strode angrily to his own rooms, suddenly needing to hold Violet and remember this was no longer his life.

Violet knew her Da was upset as soon as he walked in. He got that way sometimes when his patients didn't make it, and she looked to Wren for assurance about her aunt. She didn't like the grumpy lady, but that didn't mean that she wanted her to die. Auger liked his mother and it would make him sad if she kicked the bucket. But, she also didn't want to ask. Mumma always told her to give Da some "space" when he came home from a job looking mad and sad all at once, and she stayed sitting at her little desk where she and Wren had been coloring.

Tenet looked at the huge warrior coloring with his daughter at the tiny child's table. Any other time, and he would have laughed at the ridiculous scene. However, it only highlighted the fact that he didn't belong, that none of them belonged there any more, and he let out a small sob for the life his sister had to live in this hell hole. He didn't know which was worse, the guilt over not taking Nada with him when he ran, or the knowledge that she would have refused to go with him if he tried. Wren looked at Tenet with concern, and Violet was biting her lip. He failed Nada. He let her sink herself. The wave of sorrow threatened to swallow him up. He opened his arms and Violet dropped her coloring wand and ran to him. He gripped his daughter as if she was his life line, his second chance.

"It's okay, Da," she said, patting his back like he always did for her when she was upset.

Tenet shook his head and squeezed his daughter. "You will never, ever be like that," he promised on a whisper. "Never." He sank to the floor and held his Violet, begging for Scarab to come for them soon. He didn't know how much longer he could stand it.

Chapter 21

Bradwin was holed up in a small parlor off Colonel Nord's ballroom, completely forgetting Irmara's stern warning to "only be a few minutes". They had a lot of damage control to do in front of their peers, and he had promised Irmara she wouldn't have to handle things alone. However, there were developments on the front lines, and the promise that had been so easily made was just as easy to ignore.

Jiti Ton had brought the new intel himself. It was clear to Bradwin that the man hadn't slept in days, and Bradwin felt a little bad for the boy. While he was handling the big picture, Jiti Ton was the one in the trenches trying to gear up for a war no one really knew how to fight.

Spread on the marble desk between them was a map, a real paper map. Jiti Ton had read in some military guide that in times of war, it was never a good idea to leave a digital trail. So old maps had been dug up from the Great Library. If things began to turn, the maps could easily be destroyed in seconds and the enemy would have no idea of their plans. It was a simple, yet brilliant, design, and Bradwin was quick to adopt the practice. There hadn't been a war in centuries. They all had to learn as they went.

Jiti Ton pointed to the border between Southland and the Borderlands. The ancient maps were a poor reflection on modern borders, rivers, and coastlines. So much had changed after the asteroid that it had taken a fair amount of time and effort to draw in new lakes, rivers, deserts, and landmarks. While it had been interesting to study the old borders, those, too, had been redrawn to reflect their modern world. At first, Bradwin had found Jiti Ton's scribblings confusing. However, the longer he looked at the map, the more sense it made.

"They're concentrating here, at the place they call Carlton," Jiti Ton explained as he pointed to the map.

Bradwin nodded. "Yes, that's about what we expected."

"But," Jiti Ton said quickly, tapping another spot near the Leonsburg marker. "They've also got forces here, and our radar would indicate a gathering of troops here." He tapped the last place, an area of the Borderlands simply marked "desert".

"They're gathering in a desert?"

Jiti Ton nodded. "Yes, sir. Actually, it's more of a barren plain. It's not hot like a desert, but, for some reason, everything's dead. And to get there, we'd have to cross a vast marsh." He shook his head. "It doesn't make any sense at all from the intel we've received so far."

Bradwin rubbed his chin and stared at the map. It was assumed from all they'd seen over the years that the real problem point would be Carlton. Because of that, he had his forces concentrated on taking out that hub. The change in tactics from the Borderlands was unexpected, and they would need to reassess their own plans. "Then we'll have to spread our forces out."

Jiti Ton ran a hand over his tired eyes. "I've ordered it, but it'll take time. The bots are on their way, but the men will have to march. And, to be honest, I don't think we've got a chance of crossing these marshes."

Bradwin waved a hand. "They won't, either."

"That's the thing, though, sir. They must. They must have a way of crossing. Why else would they fortify that particular location?" Jiti Ton shook his head again and unrolled another map. While it, too, showed the border with the modern corrections, there were several red Xs marked, with dashes that lead to different points in the Borderlands.

"What's this?" Bradwin asked, intrigued.

"This is something I've been working on," said Jiti Ton, clearly excited. "Are you familiar with Jenkins' Theory of Combat?" Bradwin shook his head. "See, we've been basing this operation around the Marlow protocol."

"Of course," said Bradwin, wondering where the boy was going. "As does every civilized nation."

Jiti Ton nodded patiently. "Maybe they would, if we've ever had a war. None of us have. General Marlow wrote his text on theory only, and under the belief that every nation would fight the same way."

"But you've found a different set of combat strategies," Bradwin said, catching on.

"Exactly. See, Marlow would have us attack the bases first, to cripple the enemy. However, Jenkins made a good point for sneaking in past the enemy and attacking from within. If we can gain control of..." Jiti Ton's voice trailed off as Bradwin started shaking his head and he felt a familiar stab of disappointment. All of his ideas got shot down, but he had hoped with things looking so desperate the old man might finally take one of his plans seriously.

"If we get into the wild interior, that will leave the border open for them to advance on our people," Bradwin explained patiently.

Jiti Ton pointed at the map. "But if they follow the rules of combat..."

Bradwin snorted, then instantly felt bad when he saw the hurt look cross the boy's exhausted face. No doubt this plan took him a long time and contributed to his obvious lack of sleep. "You are assuming these savages will fight with honor and integrity," he said in a kinder tone. "You've seen my granddaughter. And she was raised with Tenet trying to mitigate the damages! They are wild animals, Jiti Ton. They will not follow any rules of combat but their own."

"But..."

The door flew open and Irmara stood angrily tapping her foot. "Bradwin, a word."

Bradwin waved her off. "This is important."

"And so is your future in politics," Irmara said firmly. "If you do not get out here and start answering their questions, I will develop a headache and leave you to clean up the mess alone."

Bradwin clenched his jaw and counted to ten slowly in his head to calm down. She'd do it. Ever since their blow up the night before, she had been acting on her own agenda. It made her a loose cannon, and those were always dangerous. He had no doubt that she'd do it, walk away and let him pick up the pieces. And after the life he'd given her, too! He took a deep breath. "I thank you for the information, Jiti Ton. For now, we stay the course."

It was a mistake. Jiti Ton felt so with every fiber of his being. All signs indicated that their enemy was far stronger than they had initially thought. His gut reaction at the news of not one, but three major concentrations of Borderlands soldiers was to ask Bradwin to call off the war, or to attack from the New Canada side. But the old man was hellbent on this conflict, no matter what he might be trying to get people to believe. As soon as Jiti Ton got word that a command had been given to move troops closer to the border even after Tenet was back, he knew that this war was inevitable. He also knew that Bradwin was being a stubborn fool to so quickly write off the obstacles they faced. "Sir, just one more minute. Please."

"Bradwin," Irmara said coldly.

Bradwin held a hand up to Jiti Ton. "I appreciate your ideas. Truly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another type of war to wage here." He gave a friendly, clueless smile, and Jiti Ton's stomach roiled with impotent anger.

The old man always had his own agenda. Over the years, Jiti Ton was satisfied that every leader did, as well, and that Bradwin was no different than any of the others. He looked the other way when Bradwin had asked. He pretended not to know what was really growing in the "alfalfa" fields. He released suspected illegal exporters whenever Bradwin asked because when he got right down to it, the country benefited from whatever it was Bradwin did. As Jiti Ton rolled up the map in defeat, he had the sinking feeling that perhaps he shouldn't have looked the other way so long. Bradwin wanted a war, and now people would pay with their lives. He hoped they were as strong as Bradwin seemed to believe, he really did. But the growing feeling of dread could not be ignored. His com chirped and he answered it, a call from a sergeant with yet another front line update. He told the man he'd be at headquarters as soon as possible, then left the party out the back door. Bradwin was set on his mission. The only thing Jiti Ton could do was keep casualties as low as possible.

Chapter 22

Scarab eased from her perch on top of a large, ornate fence that surrounded the Bradwin property. She'd been sitting up there nearly an hour, trying to determine the type of electro perimeter being used and figuring out the sweep pattern of the sentry bots. When she was confident she could beat the system, she took a deep breath and went for it.

The electro perimeter was easy. Though it made a complete square, it was only a couple of feet high. She initially assumed that the perimeter was programmed to allow bots to pass through, as they scanned all the way to the old, decorative fence. However, twice she saw human guards lift their legs and step over the invisible shields. It was pathetic, really, and she shook her head once again at Bradwin's stupidity as she easily stepped over the invisible barriers as well. There was another one around the house itself that broke for the doorways. The signature on the small radar Weevil had included in the bag of tricks he sent with Scarab showed a much higher alarm zone, but she could easily deal with that when she got there.

The human guards marched with strict regularity. Every seven and a half minutes, one would appear to the southern side of the house where Scarab planned her entry. They'd spend two minutes walking slowly by until they rounded the corner out of view. She doubted any of them had any significant experience guarding as they really did little more than saunter around. She sat right on the top of a fence for several rotations of guards, and not one of them bothered to look up. Bradwin was one cocky son of a bitch, she'd give him that.

The bots were the only real problem, as bots always were. They scanned in small sectors. On her particular side, there were four, and each traveled in tight squares around the south lawn. There was not an inch they didn't scan. However, they didn't bother the guards. The guards marched directly in their scan path, and the first time, Scarab held her breath, expecting a great laser show. Instead, the bot hesitated, scanned, then moved on. Scarab watched the same thing over and over, fascinated. Either the scientists had figured out how to make a smart bot that actually worked, or the guards had some sort of device that terminated the bot's kill signal. Either way, Scarab was positive she wasn't going to receive the same friendly welcome reaction if she crossed their path.

As Scarab crouched in the shadows waiting for a guard to pass, she quietly pulled her pack around to the front and searched inside until her hands closed around a small device Weevil had promised was "almost sort of guaranteed, probably" to disable a bot. She had been watching the house for hours from various locations. The sun would be up soon, and if she didn't at least get inside, she'd have to wait another agonizing day. She knew she couldn't take that kind of torture. She'd have to rely on Weevil and hope one of his machines finally worked.

Scarab closed her eyes and took a deep breath, settling the pack on her back firmly and getting into a running position. She cleared her mind and let her old instincts guide her. The guard turned the corner and didn't even look back and she knew she had to move. She crouched low and took a few cautious steps towards the grid of bots. Old fear surged inside and she had to tamp it down as she pressed the button on the gadget and waited to see what would happen. The seconds ticked by, the bots got closer, and she felt a trickle of sweat roll down her face. "Come on," she whispered, not really sure what she was even supposed to expect. The bots were mere feet from her. In no time, they would pick up her heat signature and it would all be over. She held the button as Weevil instructed and swallowed hard, knowing she wouldn't even have enough time to draw a weapon before she was fried.

The hum of the bot changed and Scarab had enough time to swear and squeeze her eyes before she heard the laser. After a heartbeat, she realized she wasn't fried and she cracked her eyes open to find that one bot had fired on another. The second bot turned and released a burst of electricity as it went down, taking the first out of commission as well. Scarab's eyes went wide as the other two bots received the signals to assist and they, too, began firing on the first bot. Within seconds, all four bots were incapacitated by their own lasers, and a heap of metal carnage lay in the lawn before her. She looked at the device in her hand and let out a small, triumphant laugh of relief before clamping her lips shut and looking to see if the mini war had been noticed. The night was still silent, but she knew she had to move fast. Even the most moronic of guards couldn't miss the crumpled mess. She shoved Weevil's wonderful little device into her pocket and ran forward, crouching low with a wide grin on her face. Someone finally figured out how to beat the bots. What she wouldn't have given in her hunting days for something like that!

The hum of the second electro perimeter wiped the smile off her face. Scarab pulled the radar off her belt and studied it. According to the readings, the wall of electricity climbed up to the tops of the lower story windows. It made sense. The smooth marble walls would be impossible to scale. Anyone trying to get in would have to go through a door or a window. She peered at the window and wasn't surprised to see thin wires running through the glass. She'd be dead if she tried to get in that way. She leaned back and looked up, seeing no way to access the second story windows. A glance at her watch said she only had about three more minutes before the guard rounded the corner. She quickly eased up to a door, double checking the radar to make sure it was not electrified before giving it a quiet test. It was locked, as she figured it would be, and she crouched down to consider her options.

Scarab had seen a guard enter the door. Whatever type of lock system was used, the guard had the key. Making up her mind, she slipped behind a bush, pressing her face into the prickly branches to keep her back from crossing the invisible wall of death. She took a deep breath and held it, straining to hear footsteps. When her lungs began to ache, she slowly released her breath, taking care to make as little sounds as possible, then repeated until she could hear the tell tale scuffle of boots on the carved marble walkway. She waited until she saw the man's legs through the scraggly leaves of the bush, then eased out and silently followed him until he was right in front of the door. The man never even had a chance. Before he could register her movement, a knife was at his throat and a hand was over his mouth.

"Do you want to die tonight?" Scarab asked quietly. The man furiously shook his head. "Then open the door." He shook his head again and she moved the knife blade, just enough to nick his skin and sting. The man whimpered and then moved forward awkwardly. He ran his hand in front of the door sensor and there was a click as the door swung into the manor. Scarab released her hold on his mouth, but kept the knife in place. "How did you do that?"

"Chi...chip," he stammered. He held up his wrist and wiggled it around.

"Internal?"

He nodded, then stopped when he felt the blade. "Y-y-yes. Don't kill me," he begged.

Scarab removed the blade from his neck. Before he could react, she pulled her hand back and bashed the handle of the knife into the man's temple. He crumpled almost soundlessly to the ground, and Scarab pulled him into the manor, her eyes quickly scanning the hallway. It was clearly a servant's entrance. Instead of the opulent marble and crystal she knew she'd see in the main section of the manor, the floors and walls were constructed of cheap concrete. She froze and listened. She could hear someone talking from a room toward the end of the hall, but detected no movement.

Scarab listened at a sliding door to her right. All was silent and she eased the door open to reveal a closet. Perfect. She pulled the man inside and then closed the door, jamming her knife into the door track on the floor. She doubted the guard would wake up for awhile, but even if he did, he would be good and stuck.

Scarab made her way down the hall, pausing to check each door for any signs of life behind. The household was still sleeping for the most part, and she thanked her lucky stars. As she neared the one room with activity, she moved silently, easing her body forward until she could clearly hear the sound of some sort of broadcast. She took a deep breath and peeked around the corner, her hand on her gun just in case. A guard sat in front of a com doc, listening to some program while he snoozed. Scarab rolled her eyes and backed away. Even though it worked in her favor, she couldn't help but be disgusted by the lack of preparation Bradwin showed. Didn't he know she'd be coming for her family? She shook her head and crossed in front of the doorway. On the other side was a staircase, and she slipped up the dark passage, climbing carefully to the second floor where the family would be housed.

At the top of the stairs, there was another sliding door. Scarab pressed her ear to the wood and listened, but the other side of the door was as silent as the rest of the house had been. She eased her gun from the holster and set the rounds to stun. If she could avoid killing innocent servants, maids, and guards, she would. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her sleeve, then inched the door open.

It was as if Scarab had opened a door to a different world. Far from the cheap concrete of the maid quarters, the hall in front of her was clearly meant for the upper echelon. Intricately carved marble walls stretched before her, illuminated by soft crystal lights. On the walls hung millions of credits' worth of artwork, and large, ancient vases stood on carved wooden display tables, silent testaments to the overabundance of wealth in the Bradwin household. Scarab had never been inside such a manor, she'd only ever imagined the beautiful things behind the stone walls. She crouched in awe at the sight, so many times more impressive than anything her mind could conjure, and felt a sinking feeling of inadequacy. She'd never dreamed Tenet had given up so much. And Violet. She couldn't give Violet one tenth of...

"Stop it," Scarab hissed at herself. She couldn't let those thoughts take over again. Tenet had left willingly for a reason. He gave it all up and she hadn't once heard him long for marble hallways or fancy vases or crystal lamps. She tightened the grip on her gun and pulled the radar scanner off her belt. There was no indication of any security measures, no more electro fields. She shook her head again at the blind stupidity of the very rich, and put the radar back. A glance at her watch told her she had an hour, hour and a half tops if she wanted to make the escape that night. There hadn't been any alarm raised yet about the downed bots, and she wondered if that would be the case until daylight. There was a shuffle of noise behind her down the stairs, and that brought her out of her musing. She scooted forward and shut the door behind her, then quickly made her way down the empty hall. The one thing she knew for sure was that she had to get somewhere safe.

Scarab slipped into the first open doorway and plastered herself against the wall, straining to hear. She waited one minute, then two, then five. When she was sure whatever noise she heard was staying downstairs, she ran a hand through her hair and looked around the room. It was a library of sorts, one with old fashioned, real books like they read in the Borderlands. Since most Southlanders used com docs to read, owning bound paper books was another sign of wealth. She looked around, idly wondering how much time Tenet had spent in there reading as a child. Was it his escape? She smiled at the thought. She could easily see him ducking down on that old fashioned sofa, preferring to read about candle making instead of kissing up to potential wives at some fancy party. Did Violet now read the books with him, too?

Scarab set her jaw and shook her head. She was getting too distracted. She was too close to blow it now. She made up her mind and picked up the walkie talkie Kenti had given her. She pressed the button. "Inside the manor," she said quietly.

"I thought you were going to watch and report..."

Scarab pressed the button, cutting off Kenti's angry voice. "Get the team ready on the southern point. Give me one hour." She lifted the button.

"Don't press the button while I'm talking," he ordered. "Repeat what you said."

"Give me one hour and be ready at the southern meeting point." She let the button go.

"Scarab, it's too late. We'll wait until tonight..."

"Get ready," she repeated before switching the machine off. She put it back on her belt and slipped out into the hallway. She looked down one way, then the other. She had to choose. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer to the Mother, then turned left and hoped for the best.

Chapter 23

Irmara sat in bed and stared at Udin's naked back. He was pulling his pants on, to Irmara's regret. She tried to talk him into staying the whole night, to actually fall asleep with her instead of screwing and leaving. He would not be swayed. "I'm not pushing the old man any more today," he told her.

"He's in his war room," Irmara told Udin once again. "He'll be in there for hours. Besides, it's been years since he's been to this section of the wing. I doubt he even remembers the way."

Udin smiled to himself as he buttoned his shirt. "Nice try, babe. He might not remember the way to your room, but I guarantee he remembers the way to mine."

Irmara gave him a saucy smile and lifted her eyebrow. "Why, Udin. Is there something you need to tell me?"

Udin's smile broadened and he sat on the bed next to Irmara. He leaned over and kissed her slowly. "There's only one Bradwin I want. You know that. I'll do a lot of things for that old buzzard, but even I have limits."

Irmara laughed and shook her head. "I've missed you so."

"The way I hear it, you weren't all that lonely."

Irmara frowned at his tone and threw the covers back. She rose from the bed and stomped over to her silken robe. "So are we going to pretend you didn't have your dalliances as well?"

Udin held his hands up. "Calm down. You know I was just teasing." He stood and walked up behind her. After he wrapped his arms around her waist, he pressed his face to the back of her neck and breathed her in. "None of them were you."

Irmara leaned back into him. "And none were you."

They stood in their embrace for a few minutes until Udin knew he had to go. He sighed heavily and pulled away, then set about buttoning the rest of his shirt. Irmara turned and helped, straightening his collar and snapping the top clip into position. "You know, I never thought I'd thank Tenet for anything," Udin said, looking at Irmara with love in his eyes. "But without him coming back..."

Irmara let out an impatient sigh. "What is it about Tenet that the men in my life find so threatening?" She pressed her lips together and shook her head when Udin went to answer. "I don't want to hear it. Go." She patted his chest and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Go and play war."

Udin opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. There was no point in correcting either of her statements. He pecked her forehead, then strode out of the room.

Irmara heard the click of the door and then threw herself on her bed, face down. She drew a deep breath, pressed her mouth into her pillow, then screamed with all her might. She screamed until she ran out of breath, then did it once more. She'd been screaming into pillows for too many years to count. It didn't make anything better, but it did take the edge off. She rolled onto her back, her eyes closed against the world. Five minutes before, Udin had made her come undone in this very bed. She kept her eyes closed and struggled to feel the warmth the down stuffing held from their bodies and breathed in the smell of the man she had so desperately missed.

"Don't move."

Irmara instantly tasted the metallic tinge of fear as her heart thumped once then stopped. Her hand clenched the silk sheet, her nails digging into her palm through the material. She struggled to draw a breath, to calm herself. She willed her eyes to open even as her body began to shake. Her eyes settled on a woman who stood in the shadows, a gun in her hand and a terrifying look radiating from familiar eyes. Irmara sat up suddenly, her hand flying to her mouth and froze when the woman raised the weapon higher. "Oh," she said simply, her mind scrambling to make sense of what was happening.

Scarab shifted to the door and slid the lock in place. She'd made her way into the room while the woman was in the throes of passion. She could have driven a harvester through the door and she doubted the two lovers would have noticed. She had slipped in and stood in the shadows by the enormous wardrobe, waiting for nature to take its course and end the disgusting scene. She planned on waiting until the lovers were half asleep, then incapacitating one while she plied the other for information. Though Scarab had no idea who the woman was at the time, the conversation with the man after they had completed their tryst told her all she needed to know, and her plan had changed.

Scarab stepped closer to the bed. "Your boob is hanging out," she said, knowing the rough, unexpected language would keep Tenet's mother at odds.

Irmara blinked, then looked down. She felt the heat creep up her chest as she hastily pulled her robe closed. Irmara looked the woman in the eyes. She was as cold as Bradwin said and Irmara felt a shiver run through her. And yet, the resemblance to Violet was uncanny. "She looks just like you," she said, struggling to get her mind working properly.

Scarab's jaw twitched, the muscle on the side of her face tightening.

"No," Irmara said quickly, holding her hand up for a moment. "No, please. I don't mean anything bad by it. I..." She swallowed hard.

"Where are they?"

Irmara shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. This woman was going to take them from her again. "Please," she begged. "Please don't take them."

Scarab scoffed. "You're shitting me, right?"

"I almost died when Tenet left," Irmara said, trying to play to the woman's motherly side. "Please don't take him. Take the girl, but leave my baby."

Scarab lifted her eyebrow. The woman was serious. Crazy, clearly. But serious. She honestly believed that Scarab would just walk away, that one life could be bartered for another. "I'm not leaving here without both of them."

Irmara let out a small sob, her face twisting into a sneer. "Then you'll all die. Don't you get it by now? He doesn't stop. If you persist, you'll kill them both." She took a gulp of air, and idea forming in place of the fear and desperation. "Take Violet and I'll make sure you get out of here alive. I'll...I'll bring you to her and..."

"No," Scarab said firmly.

But Irmara had hold of the idea with both hands and would not let go. She would not let go again. "Bradwin doesn't want the half-breed." She ignored the instant fire in Scarab's eyes. "I know that for a fact. He never really wanted me, even. He'll let Violet go, he'll leave you alone to live your life in the wild. Take the baby. You take your baby, I'll keep mine."

Scarab slowly shook her head. "You're nuts."

Irmara let out a desperate little laugh. "And you're not? Look at you! You're a killer. An outcast. A cold, hard woman. You think you can be anything he needs? Or wants? He went to you in desperation. You were a means to an end, and don't for a second think any different."

Scarab knew what Irmara was trying to do, and to her deep frustration, it was working. She was playing to Scarab's feelings, and Scarab was letting it work. She tried to concentrate past the red haze. "You know nothing about us," she said.

"Really? Tell me, hunter. Would he ever have gone with you in any other circumstance?"

Scarab's teeth hurt she was clenching them so tightly. "Tell me where they are," she insisted.

"Leave him. Let him have his life back. Take your daughter and go back and let Tenet have everything you took away from him."

"No!" Scarab yelled, her finger itching just to shoot and be done with the vicious woman.

Irmara pounded her fist on her thigh. "Listen to me!" She jumped up and ignored Scarab's weapon. She simply had to make the hunter see reason. She grabbed Scarab's arms and gave her a shake. "Don't you get it? This is how it's supposed to be. I get a second chance." Her voice cracked with thick emotion. "You will not take away my second chance!"

Crazy was crazy, as simple as that. Scarab could have used Irmara's help. She had hoped she could appeal to the mother in her, but it was clear that wasn't going to happen. It left Scarab with no choice. She pulled the trigger, sending a stun round right into Irmara's chest. The woman tensed and fell back. Scarab caught her elbow, and pulled her to the bed, the task made difficult by the stiff, spasming muscular reaction to the electric round. She got her in the bed and tied her down, then crammed the corner of one of the puffy comforters from the bed in her mouth. The paralyzing effects of the stun shot would last a good half hour, but Scarab didn't plan on taking any chances. Tears rolled down Irmara's cheeks, and Scarab let herself feel bad for the woman for a brief second before the anger took over again.

"No," Scarab said, knowing Irmara could hear her even if she couldn't move. "No," she said again, feeling the anger grow. "Save your tears. You want a second chance? You had a second chance. You could have followed him. You could have hunted him down and dragged his ass home, just like I'm doing. You should have. You were his mother!" Scarab leaned over Irmara's face, making sure Irmara's frozen eyes could look right into hers. "You threw him away. You didn't want him. Always remember that. He left because he wasn't wanted, and now he is."

Scarab stood and reloaded her weapon. Irmara's tears were trickling freely down her face and she was making pathetic little sobbing noises. Scarab stopped and looked at the woman. Yes, pathetic. That about summed it up. She couldn't kill the woman. She was a mother, and as horrible a one as she was, Scarab just couldn't end the life of the mother Tenet loved. But that didn't mean she planned on leaving her whole. If there was anything left to strip off the woman, she was going to do it.

"And why didn't you come for him?" Scarab asked. "I've wondered that over the years. Why is it that a mother wouldn't even try to get such a wonderful son back? And then I had my baby. Then I held her to me and fed her off my own body and marveled at what I had made. You know what? That just made it ten times worse for me. It tore me to pieces to look at my family and know that there was a mother somewhere down here who simply didn't care.

"And you know what I figured out while you were screwing you husband's lackey right in his very home? It's not Tenet. He didn't do anything wrong. He never did anything to be treated like that. It wasn't him, it was you. You're just a cold, angry, bitter, selfish woman who wouldn't risk any of these things to save her son." Scarab picked up a beautiful bottle from the vanity near the bed. The carved crystal vial probably cost a small fortune. She hefted it once, then threw it across the room, smiling when it shattered against the wall. "That's why. Because you wanted that." She picked up a hand mirror, shook her head, then threw that against the wall as well. She knew she was making noise. She didn't care. She was so far beyond angry that she knew she could handle any guard who cared to come running.

"You wanted that." She picked up a vase and smashed it on the floor. "And that. And all of this shit!" She swiped her hand over the vanity and the assortment of expensive and useless items joined the shattered bits on the floor. "That's why you let him go, isn't it? Because you wanted this life and these stupid, meaningless things and couldn't for one second stand the thought of it being gone."

Scarab pressed her lips together and shook her head in disgust. "I'm going to find my husband. I'm going to find my baby. And we're going home. You want this life, have it. Tenet made his choice, and it's me. I feel sorry for you if you can't understand why."

Scarab left the room and could hear an alarm ringing from somewhere in the building. She swore, then pulled the walkie talkie from her belt. "I hope you're in position. There's a chance I might have been heard." She released the button to wait for Kenti's reply.

"Son of a..."

She heard a blip of static and figured Kenti was having a good private fit. A thought struck her, and she pressed the button again. "Give the signal to the front line," she said quickly.

"Are you nuts? Not until we have you in our custody."

Scarab sighed, hearing some feet coming. "Do it. Press the issue. Might as well raise the alarm on all fronts, right?" There was no response for long seconds, and she ducked into a decorative arch, wedging herself behind an expensive vase to wait for whoever was coming down the hall towards her.

"You're crazy," Kenti finally responded.

"Did you contact Krupkie?"

"It's done. I don't know why the hell she's taking orders from the likes of you, but it's done. She gave the order. Now would you please get your ass in gear and get the hell out of there?"

Scarab grinned. "Affirmative," she said. She shut the walkie off and peeked around the corner. A guard was easing down the hallway looking absolutely terrified. She bet it was the first time anyone had dared to even attempt to infiltrate the castle, and she felt bad for the guard as she nailed him with a stun round. He slid to the floor stiffly, and Scarab scrambled to pull him into the little alcove. His feet stuck out, but with the alarms going off, she doubted it really mattered. They knew someone was in the house, and by now they would have figured out why. She had to get to Tenet and Violet.

Scarab ran down the hall and came to a big T intersection. There was a large door down one hall, and an identical one down the other. She looked left, then right, then shook her head. Left had done her well so far, and she decided to press her luck. At the end of the hall, she leaned against the big door and listened. She could hear muffled voices inside, and she pounded heavily on the wood. "Security," she bellowed, in her deepest voice. In seconds, she heard the hum of the electronic locks being undone and the door flew open.

Nada froze. Never in her life had she even seen a gun up close, and now one was pointed directly in her face by a very angry woman who was definitely not part of their household security.

"Tenet," the woman barked.

Nada drew in a quick breath. "It's...you're..."

A guard barked a warning and started running down the hallway behind Scarab. Without hesitating, Scarab turned and fired, then had the gun back on Nada before the woman could even register what was happening to her.

"If you cost me my husband and daughter I will come back here and kill you," Scarab promised. "You tell me where he is right now or you'll have just enough time to be sorry."

A million things flew through Nada's mind all at once. Nothing in her pampered life had prepared her for any situation even remotely like the one she was facing, and she was utterly shocked to discover that she wasn't frightened. She was frightened about everything else in life. Every other aspect of living terrified the hell out of her. All but this. She stared into the eyes of Violet's mother, of Tenet's wife. She should hate her. She should want to tear the woman who stole her only friend to pieces. And yet, she didn't. She wanted her to win. She wanted the hunter to find them and whisk them away and let them have the real life she never would.

"Turn down the hall," Nada said calmly. "Go the other way. He's guarded by at least three people, one of them being one of my father's best agents. You can't get out the main way. We're on a lock down and you can't use the doors. But there's a balcony in his room that hangs over a low roof."

"Nada! What the hell are you doing?" Merle barked in a drunken stupor.

"I'm helping my brother," she said sharply through the tears she didn't realize were running down her face. "I'm doing what I should have done years ago."

"She's an outlaw! She's going to kill us all!"

"Shut up!" Nada screeched, all composure lost. As she turned back to face Tenet's wife, she pressed her hand over her mouth to hold back a sob. In that moment, she knew she would never see Tenet again, and the pain was almost unbearable. "Don't come back," she begged the woman. "Don't ever let him come back. Go!"

Scarab lowered her weapon and shook her head, stunned at what just happened. "Thank you."

Nada pressed a hand to her mouth and sobbed again. "Go!" She slammed the door before she could change her mind.

Scarab whirled around and raced down the other hallway. Three guards, Nada said, though hopefully one was Wren. She took a deep breath, then pounded on the door and called as she had at Nada's. Before she was even finished speaking, the door opened and Scarab was pulled inside. She spun with her weapon and quickly took in the scene. She was in some outer living chamber. She didn't know the man who had pulled her inside, but he didn't have a weapon raised and was clearly on her side.

He motioned to a man bleeding on the floor. "Heard the alarms and knew he'd be trouble. Your man's through that door, but our planned escape has been cut off."

"You're one of us?"

The man laughed. "Yeah. Cushy gig, too. Hate to see it go, but what are you going to do, right? Now, shoot me with a stun round to make it look like I'm a victim and get your asses out of here."

Scarab didn't hesitate. She shot him, said an apology, then helped ease him to the floor. She pounded on the door he had pointed out. There was no noise on the other side, and she had to smile. She had trained her husband well. She pounded again. "Any room in there for a wraith?" she called.

The door flew open and Scarab was suddenly in Tenet's arms. She heard Violet's squeals, felt her small arms wrap around her legs, and suddenly felt like crying. Tenet kissed her deeply, then released her so she could hold her daughter. She couldn't have stopped the tears if she tried as she stroked her baby's hair and clutched her close.

Wren turned and looked the other way, choking up himself. He had held careful control of his emotions through the whole ordeal, but the surprisingly unnerving sight of tears coming from Mrs. Lorne's eyes threatened to be his undoing. He let the family have a small reunion before he cleared his throat. "We must move," he said firmly.

Scarab sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve. "Right. We're not done." She took a deep breath, then really looked at Violet and started to laugh. "Your eyebrows fell off!"

Violet giggled and clutched her Mumma. "I knew you were coming!"

"Always," Scarab promised. "I will always come for you."

"How should we leave?" Wren asked, knowing they really needed to get out of there.

"The balcony. Nada said you used to sneak out..."

"Over the balcony onto the roof," Tenet finished. He shook his head. "You saw Nada?"

"Yes. And your mother." She gave a wry smile. "Don't worry. I only stunned your mother, though I would have liked to have..." Wren cleared his throat and shot Violet a look, knowing full well the list of things Mrs. Lorne probably would have liked to have done to Tenet's mother. "Ah, yeah. Well, she'll live."

"And Nada?"

It didn't bother Scarab that he was concerned for the people who treated him so badly. She saw them for herself and understood. She saw how sad and lonely their lives were, how small and petty and pathetic. She didn't feel jealousy like she used to, or insecure, or inadequate. She felt sorry for them, as Tenet must have. "She helped me. She made me promise I'd keep you safe and she helped."

Tenet felt a rush of sadness. That was the Nada only he knew, and he doubted she'd ever show that side to anyone else ever again. She was an addict. A spoiled, rich, lonely addict with a drunk for a husband, a slut for a mother, two brats for children, and a monster for a father. Tenet finally understood that there was nothing he could do about it. He nodded and turned to the balcony doors, unable to speak. They were locked down, like everything else when the alarms kicked on.

"Got it," Scarab said, picking up a chair. "Cover her face," she instructed, nodding to Violet. Tenet scooped up his daughter and pulled her face to his chest as Scarab swung the chair, shattering the glass.

"A little old fashioned, but it'll do," Tenet said with a grin.

Scarab motioned to Wren. "Head out first and make sure it's clear, then Tenet will get Violet down and I'll bring up the rear."

Tenet and Scarab watched as Wren made his way down to the ground. He gave a bird whistle after a moment, and Scarab nodded. "All clear." She picked Violet up and nestled her on Tenet's back. "You hang on to Da like a baby possum, got it?" Violet nodded and gripped Tenet's neck tightly. "I'll keep watch and cover your back. Have Mr. McKay whistle when you're down and I'll join you."

He gave Scarab a nod, then lifted his leg over the balcony railing. He was surprised at how easy it was. He and Nada used to struggle and take ages to make the trip. Yet his body, now used to hard work, was strong enough to easily carry Violet on his back over the railing, to the small roof, and then down to the ground below in no time. "Keep holding on," he said over his shoulder to Violet. He crouched and nodded to Wren. Wren gave another whistle. They waited in the shadows, scanning the yard in front of them. So far it was all clear, and Tenet felt good about their chances. After a few moments, Wren whistled again, yet the only reply they received was silence.

Tenet didn't even have to ask what that meant. His world moved in slow motion as he turned to look in Wren's eyes. Something went wrong.

Chapter 24

Scarab closed her eyes against the pain as her face was pressed into the floor by someone's knee. Her mind reeled as she silently cursed herself out. Stupid. She'd gotten sloppy and stupid again. The very best she could hope for was to stall them long enough for Tenet to escape. She took a deep breath, then pushed with all her might against the knee.

"Hold still or you will be incapacitated!"

Scarab struggled and wiggled and slipped out from under the man's grip. She made it to her knees before a gun was pressed against her chest and she stopped fighting. At least she could see who she was up against now. She drew in deep, shaky breaths and felt the blood trickle down her nose. A soldier was holding the gun on her, a worried look in his eyes.

"She's bleeding, sir," he said over his shoulder.

"So?" came the all-too-familiar voice of Bradwin. The old man walked around the soldier to the balcony door. "Give up now and she'll live," he called into the night.

Scarab closed her eyes and prayed to the Mother to make Wren overpower Tenet. She listened, but heard no response and felt relief. She opened her eyes and looked at the soldier. "You broke my nose," she said, trying to play to his obvious discomfort.

"Aw, hell. I'm sorry," he began.

"Enough," Bradwin barked. "She's an outlaw, Jiti Ton. Don't let her try and talk you out of doing your job." He turned back to the balcony. "She's a dead woman, Tenet," he yelled. "Already her bones are broken and she's bleeding. Come back and you can end her suffering."

Scarab made herself laugh through her pain. If she couldn't get to the soldier, she could try to distract Bradwin. "I told you before I'm not worth it." She spat a mouthful of blood. "I'm a shitty wife. He's glad to be rid of me."

Bradwin closed his eyes and struggled to keep his anger in check. "I would stop talking right this minute if I were you," he said carefully.

Scarab stared at the man for a minute, her mind racing to come up with a plan. She had absolutely no doubt that she could take the soldier in front of her. While his costume would indicate he was someone of high rank, he held the gun at her chest like an amateur. It struck her then just how ill-prepared these people were for the war Bradwin waged. The soldier in front of her never saw real combat.

"Jiti Ton," Scarab repeated. "That's your name?"

Bradwin spun around. "Don't answer her. It's all trickery." He waved a hand. "Get her cuffed."

"You were once Tenet's friend, weren't you?"

Jiti Ton looked at the woman and frowned. "That was a long time ago before you abducted him."

Bradwin's nostrils flared. "Now you listen here, soldier. You will not engage this prisoner!"

"Yes, sir."

Scarab heard the slight waiver in the man's voice and a plan formed in her mind. "I never abducted anyone. I was hired to kill him and I chose not to." Scarab saw Bradwin's hand come for her face and fought her instinct to duck. She took the hit and played up the affect, though in truth she bet her five year old girl could have hit harder. The ploy had the desired effect and she had to fight a smile as Jiti Ton stammered in astonishment.

"Sir! The prisoner was under my complete control. There was no need to accost her!"

Bradwin saw the twinkle in Scarab's eye and felt the acid roil in his stomach again. Clever. Hadn't Jace kept calling her that? And he played right into whatever plan she had concocted in that vicious little head. He took a calming breath and smoothed his thin hair back. "As I have said before, Jiti Ton, this woman is more than a mere prisoner. She is an extremely manipulative killer. And you were walking right into her trap."

Jiti Ton swallowed hard, his pulse racing. He'd never seen the old man lose it like that, especially to a prisoner who was already caught, already at the mercy of the law. "She is already broken and bleeding, as you yourself have said. I see no reason for further torture."

Bradwin snorted. How was it possible that the head of his military force was so damn naive? He shook his head. "Bind her."

"I would recommend you ignore that command," Scarab said calmly when Jiti Ton reached one hand behind his back to remove the electromagnetic cuffs. He paused, casting a worried look to Bradwin. "Don't look at him."

"Don't speak to her," Bradwin commanded again.

"If you try it, you will die," Scarab warned in a cool, firm voice.

Bradwin's eyes narrowed. "She's got no weapons."

Scarab snorted. "I guarantee that will not even slow me down."

"You are the commander of the Southland militia, for goodness sake! Are you really going to let one little woman frighten you?" Bradwin made a tsking noise. "Really, Jiti Ton. I would have thought more of you than that."

Jiti Ton clenched his jaw and grabbed the cuffs off the back of his belt. Before he could even bring them around, he was pinned to the floor, the gun that had been in his own hand was pointed at his head, and he felt the hot pressure of electromagnetic cuffs on his wrists that were twisted behind him. He didn't even have time to blink and just like that, he was a dead man if that was her choice. He closed his eyes and swore.

Bradwin had been surprised at the woman's speed. An annoying flash of admiration ripped through him. Why couldn't she have been his child instead of Tenet? A woman like her, he could work with. Hell, even with the history between them, if he thought he had any chance of winning her over to work for his side, he would have moved the earth itself to make that happen. Too bad that couldn't happen, he thought to himself as he let his eyes dart around the room, trying to make a plan.

"You'll find no help here." Confident that Jiti Ton was not going to be a problem, Scarab rose and sighted the gun on Bradwin. She wanted to pull the trigger so badly that she actually had to shift her finger to make sure she didn't act on instinct. She wanted Bradwin dead, but if she had learned anything in her brief time back with these people, it was that Bradwin was not the only problem. He was the head of a snake that would simply rise again, especially if he was killed by the hand of a Borderlands outlaw. She hated fate. She hated that she had to let him live. But she'd be damned if she allowed him to become a martyr.

"You were a friend to Tenet once," Scarab said to Jiti Ton, never taking her eyes off Bradwin.

"Don't listen to her," Bradwin snapped. He wondered if he could reach his own gun before the hunter could pull that trigger. His firing hand throbbed from the impact with her face, and he knew he'd only attempt it as a last resort.

Scarab let out a cold laugh. "Are you kidding me? One of us is in charge right now, old man, and my guess would be that it's the one with the gun. Give him another order," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I dare you."

Bradwin's anger flared but he clamped his lips together tightly. He'd buy time. He'd play along. And he'd hope to hell another guard came along to get them out of this. She didn't win. Not this time.

"You knew Tenet, Jiti Ton. You knew he was a whiny, stubborn, drama queen back then."

Jiti Ton frowned. Intellectually, he knew what she was doing. They'd been trained in the Academy to ignore such manipulative tactics if they were ever taken as prisoners of war. He kept his mouth shut and made a firm resolve not to answer.

Scarab waited for some reply. When it didn't come, she gave a little shrug. "I don't need you to answer. Everyone in this room remembers how he was back then. He was...difficult. At best. But, he wasn't cruel. He wasn't cunning. He didn't plot and plan against people."

"Only my intended." Jiti Ton was sorry he blurted it out as soon as the words cleared his lips.

Scarab gave Bradwin a smug smile. "You're kidding me, right? Think about it, Jiti Ton. Did you ever see Tenet make a play for your woman? He came to me innocent in every aspect of life."

Bradwin's heart made a little skip in his chest. "She's just trying to get to you," he said quickly. "She wasn't there. She didn't see how Tenet threw himself at your girl."

Scarab gave Bradwin a droll look and quirked her eyebrow. "Really?"

"I know what you're doing and it won't work," Jiti Ton said quickly, in spite of the niggling voice of doubt in his head.

"I'm only talking about old times with my husband's best friend," Scarab said in her most innocent voice.

"He's not your husband!" Jiti Ton bellowed. "He's your captive. Your prisoner."

"You sound like you care."

Jiti Ton pressed his lips together tightly.

"Could it be you've had second thoughts about ending your friendship?"

Bradwin felt a band of tightness in his chest. A sweat broke out on his forehead and there was a metallic taste in his mouth. He tried to focus on the hunter and her words, but things began to blur. He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, and when he opened them, the room spun a little.

Scarab could see that Bradwin was struggling. His face had gone from its normal white paleness to a sickly gray-green tone. His forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he swayed slightly. Good. She hoped he was having a heart attack. If he keeled over from a bad ticker, it certainly would make her life easier. She stepped back, so she could see Jiti Ton's face while she kept her gun on Bradwin. "You don't have to answer, Jiti Ton. I know you care. You were a young man who was in love and probably more than a little hot headed."

Jiti Ton closed his eyes and turned his head. She would not divide his loyalties. He worked too hard to get where he was to listen to the carefully constructed words of an outlaw.

"And I'm sure looking back now, you can see how wrong you were to believe Tenet could do something like that to you. Did you get a chance to see him and apologize?"

"No," Jiti Ton whispered, guilt washing over him.

Bradwin stumbled and Scarab stepped forward. "Whoa there, old boy. Let's not keel over before we get a few things out in the open."

Bradwin felt himself slump onto something soft and looked down. He was surrounded by delicate pink bedding. A baby doll looked up at him from a fluffy pillow, its smiling face making the entire evening surreal. The world was woozy, save the grinning painted face of the doll, and he suddenly realized he needed one of his pills. "My pill," he mumbled as he fumbled in his pocket.

Scarab's gun on his head stopped him and she reached in the pocket and pulled out a small packet of pills. "Allow me," she said, giving him a fake smile. She dumped out a pill then popped it into his mouth.

Bradwin knew even in his haze and confusion that she was not planning on killing him. He should have felt relief and elation. Instead, he felt the dread gather deep in his gut.

"Swallow the pill like a good boy," Scarab said.

There was definitely a twinkle in her eye. She wanted him alert. She wanted him conscious. She wanted him whole and able and aware. Bradwin considered spitting the pill out and letting his heart give up the fight. It would serve the bitch right! And yet, he chewed. And yet, he swallowed. He let her take his weapon and sat there intrigued and disgusted and pathetically aware.

When Scarab was certain the pill was consumed, she stepped back again and continued with Jiti Ton. "Don't feel too bad about throwing him aside, Jiti. Can I call you Jiti? It seems weird to me that everyone puts your last name with your first. It's rather formal, don't you think?" She did not let him answer. "Anyway, like I was saying, Jiti, you weren't the first to throw him away, so don't feel too bad. Everyone else already had. Not one person here wanted him. You were just being like everyone else."

"Stop," Bradwin said, wishing he had spat the pill out right in the hunter's face. He glanced at the door. Where the hell was everyone?

"So of course Tenet ran." Scarab glanced at Bradwin to assess his condition. He was still wobbling on the bed. She had no idea how long the pill would take to work, or if he was beyond the chemical's help. However, she knew that she had some time, at least, and crouched on the other side of Jiti Ton. She put her hand on his head so he couldn't turn away again. "He had no one here, Jiti. No one. In my years with him, I've learned just how much that must have hurt."

Jiti Ton could not take his eyes off her. His guilt and pain at her words felt like a chasm inside. "I...he wouldn't even explain..." he began.

Scarab waved her gun in dismissal. "Like I said, water under the bridge. And I'm sure you apologized, because you seem like an honorable guy." She thumped his shoulder, then stood. "Now, I was just saying that because I wanted you to think about those times, Jiti. Think about Tenet, his life, why he ran. I'm sure you've seen a thing or two working here all these years. I'm sure you've seen and heard things you told yourself you had to forget in order to look at your reflection in the mirror every morning."

Oh yes, Bradwin liked this evil hunter. If he were a younger man, he would try and claim her for himself. She was brilliant. It was hard to keep remembering she was the enemy. "Go," Bradwin said.

Scarab turned and looked at him. "Go?"

"Run. Take Tenet and that baby and go."

Scarab laughed. She threw her head back and laughed. "Just like that?" She shook her head. "Good one, old man."

"I won't send anyone after you."

"Liar," she said simply. She turned slightly, giving the appearance of keeping her attentions on Jiti Ton while in reality honing her focus on Bradwin. The pill was already working. She noticed his forehead was drier and his cheeks were pinking up. "You work for a liar, Jiti. Have you figured that out yet?"

The fog was clearing from Bradwin's vision and he felt the invisible band around his chest loosen slightly. He couldn't draw in a full breath yet, and his legs and arms still felt like jelly. But the pill was beginning to work and he was starting to feel stronger. "She's the one that's murdered people."

Scarab sighed. "Do you really want to open that can of worms, old man?" She waved the gun. "The people I killed were trying to kill me first. Jiti here is a soldier. He can understand that." She motioned to Bradwin. "What's your excuse?"

Bradwin's anger made him snort and sputter, but Jiti Ton came to his defense, desperately trying to maintain his beliefs. "Every leader must make sacrifices."

"What other leader would order the death of his own son?" Scarab snapped hotly.

"Don't listen to her!" Bradwin bellowed.

It wasn't the words of the outlaw that gave Jiti Ton pause. It was the old man yelling. His boss was clearly upset, far more than he should be if a prisoner leveled bullshit accusations at him.

"She's a liar."

Jiti Ton thought back through his years of service. There were many closed-door meetings with people who scared him, many times he had to look the other way.

"She's caught and she knows it."

But she wasn't caught, was she? She had the gun. She could have shot them both and been long gone by now. She stayed. She lingered. She risked truly getting caught, for what? There had to be a reason, more than just to tell lies.

"Any minute our troops will burst through that door and she's trying anything she can to escape."

She wasn't trying to escape. She was talking. If she was as good as Bradwin had said, and Jiti Ton had no reason to believe otherwise as the side of his face was planted on the floor and his hands were cuffed behind him, then she was not stupid. There was a reason. There had to be a reason.

"She's trying to turn you against me," Bradwin hissed. "Don't let her."

Jiti Ton remained silent and Scarab knew he was listening, really listening. "I received a bounty," she began.

"Jiti Ton, I order you to ignore her!"

"The governmental bounty was to bring Tenet in to face punishment for his illegal off-season attempt. But there was a secondary bounty with an extra incentive for proof of Tenet's death. It was a kill order, Jiti. A kill order issued by Bradwin."

Bradwin could not take it any longer. He lunged off the bed and flung himself at Scarab. The attempt was met with the butt of her gun to his head and he fell uselessly to the floor.

She stepped over Bradwin and crouched down to face Jiti Ton. "I would never have killed him, Jiti Ton. Never. Because I knew he wasn't a piece of garbage that deserved to be thrown away. We ran and gained sanctuary in the Borderlands, with a tribal community that had no reason to accept us, but did so anyway."

Jiti Ton swallowed hard, his mind racing. "Why are you telling me this?"

"The Borderlands is filled with people who simply want to be left alone. They're good people who just want to live their lives. Ask yourself what it is that Bradwin's been hiding all these years. Ask yourself why he's so hellbent on this damn war with people who have never bothered any of you the whole time they were there." She looked at the old man. He was trying to lift himself off the floor and it was so pathetic she felt a new wave of disgust roll through her. "Ask him about the alfalfa fields. Ask him about the drug runners. Go on. Ask him the real reason behind this war."

Bradwin wheezed in a deep breath. "Jiti Ton...remember all...I've done..."

Tenet's bitter laugh echoed in the room. "Yes, Jiti Ton. Remember all he's done to manipulate and control you."

Scarab looked up and though her eyes twinkled, her brow lowered into a frown. "You should have run with Violet," she said, rising and crossing her arms over her chest.

"So Wren said." Tenet pushed off the balcony door. "I came back to see if you needed help." He motioned around the room. "Looks like you've got it all under control."

"Violet?"

Tenet shrugged. "I gave her a gun and told her to act like her Mumma." At Scarab's droll look he laughed again. "With Wren on the way to the evac point," he assured her. "Even though I'm pretty sure she could have handled the guards, now that I think about it."

"You're dammed right," Scarab said with a nod. "Took out a sheep with one shot."

Tenet's smile widened and he pulled Scarab to him. "Good work here, wife," he said quietly.

Bradwin pushed himself up onto his knees. He clutched the side of his face that burned and throbbed and squinted through the watery vision. "You're pathetic," he spat. "You always have been. A follower. She says jump and you ask how high."

Tenet's jaw tightened. It had taken every ounce of self control to keep himself from shooting his father while Scarab was handling the situation, and his hand itched once again to end it, to end the old man's reign of terror and corruption. He wanted to prove to his father once and for all that he was not lesser and weak and unworthy. And it was that desire to kill that stayed his hand. He wasn't lesser. He wasn't weak. He wasn't unworthy. He also wasn't a killer. He was better than that. The old man was pathetic. He was bitter. He was evil and nasty and because of it, he was alone.

Tenet knew that. He knew that was the difference between himself and the old man. He didn't have to prove anything. His life was all the proof that was needed. He had a home, not an ice palace. He had a wife who looked for completion with him and didn't need to hop from bed to bed to try and feel an ounce of love. His daughter would never have to escape through drugs, and if they were lucky enough to have any more children, not a damn one of them would ever feel the need to run away.

And yet, the urge to shut the old man up for good would not release its hold on him. His hand closed over the grip of the gun on his belt and the same little voice that urged him to punch Jace promised him it would feel real good to point the gun at his father's head and pull the trigger.

Scarab saw the look on Tenet's face. She warred with herself inside, wondering whether she should stop him or not. She was about to open her mouth, when everyone in the room felt an invisible wave of energy push through them a split second before an enormous boom shook the walls and rumbled through the floors. Tenet and Scarab pitched forward slightly, struggling to stay standing while Bradwin slipped sideways to the floor. The room was plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the thin strip of dawn on the horizon.

"What in the hell was that?" Tenet asked.

"War," Scarab said simply.

"War? But we didn't advance!" Bradwin shouted, struggling to try and get off the floor.

Scarab looked at Tenet. She could barely make out his face in the dark, but from what she could see, he looked as stunned as she felt. "It's got to be The Beast," she said slowly.

"Huh?"

"Weevil. He's working for Krupkie."

Tenet grinned. "You're kidding me. Weevil? How in the hell did he end up working for Krupkie?"

"I'll explain later," Scarab assured him. "We've got to get out of here."

Jiti Ton shook off his shock and realized his hands were free. Whatever hit the city disabled not only the lights, but his electronic restraints as well. Before he could let himself be overwhelmed with all the implications, he decided that the immediate need was to take control of the situation in the room. He rolled and jumped up, surprising Tenet. Tenet reached for his weapon, and Jiti Ton held up his hands. The two old friends froze and stared at each other.

"What are you waiting for?" Bradwin demanded. "Arrest them!"

Scarab flipped the switch on her gun. "The electromagnetic rounds will not function anymore. You so much as twitch and I'll shoot you with an old fashioned bullet."

Jiti Ton never took his eyes off Tenet. Though his head swam with everything he learned that night, he knew one thing for sure. Tenet was, and always had been, innocent. "I'm not your enemy here," Jiti Ton said carefully.

After a tense second, Tenet's hand lowered.

"You listen to me Jiti Ton. You're seriously compromising your future in my army!" Bradwin snapped, still struggling to get off the floor.

"Go," Jiti Ton said, nodding toward the balcony.

"Jiti Ton..." Tenet began

"Go!" Jiti Ton ordered. From the room behind them, they heard a thumping on the outer door and the shouting of the guards. "Dammit, Tenet! Go!"

Scarab grabbed Tenet's hand and pulled, and he turned and ran. Jiti Ton watched him climb over the balcony, knowing he had done the right thing and wishing life had turned out differently for them all. Bradwin was trying to rise. He was pulling himself up on the little girl's bed, and Jiti Ton looked at the man he had admired for so many years with the new light of disgust. He bent down to retrieve the electromagnetic bracelets from the floor. He looked at them in wonder. They were utterly useless. He gazed around the dark room, his soldier's mind knowing that they were well and truly defeated.

"You knew they could do this, didn't you, sir?" Jiti Ton asked, holding up the harmless bracelets.

Bradwin was sitting on the bed, mopping his brow with the sleeve of his jacket. "You let them get away!"

Jiti Ton strode forward. "You knew they could do this, didn't you, sir?" he asked again in a demanding voice. Bradwin didn't answer. The look on his face was clear, even in the faint glow of dawn, and Jiti Ton felt his stomach drop. "You knew."

"Sir! What the hell is going on?" asked a confused guard as he broke in through the door.

Bradwin appealed to the guard. "Thank goodness! Apprehend this man at once."

Jiti Ton's grip on Bradwin's arm tightened. "Take Mr. Bradwin below and lock him up."

The confused guard looked between the two men. Technically, both of them were his bosses and he warred with himself over which command to follow. "I...I can't lock up the Exalted Leader."

Jiti Ton's jaw clenched. "I am exercising my responsibility to take over command of the armed forces in a time of war, and your Exalted Leader has attempted to usurp my authority. If you do not follow established protocol, then you will face a court martial as well. Now, take him below and lock him up!"

"Soldier, listen to me," Bradwin began. "What we have here is a mutiny. If you follow Jiti Ton's orders..."

The guard swallowed hard. "I can't lock him up even if I wanted to. All of the electricity has been cut."

"Then get creative!" Jiti Ton snapped.

Udin burst in and looked around. "Where's Tenet?"

"Gone."

Udin ran to the shattered balcony door, stopping in his tracks when he saw Brawdin being passed from Jiti Ton to a guard. "What the..."

"This man is to be tried for war crimes," Jiti Ton snapped.

"But..."

Jiti Ton had enough. "Do you have a problem with that, civilian?" he barked, his voice echoing in the dark room.

Udin looked at Jiti Ton. The man was different. He was forceful and commanding, as one in his position should have been all along. "What happened in here?"

"Udin, don't let them do this. It's treason," Bradwin tried.

Jiti Ton motioned to the guard that held his boss and the man dragged him away. Jiti Ton turned to Udin. He didn't need the man's support, but he certainly would appreciate it. "You have two choices. Either you can continue to work for a criminal, or you can join my team and help me figure out what in the hell is going on out there and how to stop it."

Udin was many things. He was selfish and cruel. He was a liar and a professional con artist, when he got right down to it. He was sleazy enough to sleep with his boss's wife one minute, and shaking his boss's hand with a smile on his face the next. He was dirty and rotten and about a million other unpleasant adjectives he'd never deny. However, the one thing he wasn't was stupid. Of course Bradwin was dirty and corrupt, and it surprised him that it took someone else so long to figure that out. "You better be sure about this," he said quietly. "If you go forward, you need irrefutable proof. You need to dig up a chain evidence that cannot be broken."

"That will be your job."

Udin blinked, then laughed. "You sound really sure of yourself."

Jiti Ton nodded firmly. "I am." And with that, he closed the subject. There were far more important things to worry about at the moment than a broken, tired, bitter old man. The noise from the streets was louder and growing more desperate as people struggled for answers and guidance. "Well?"

Udin shook his head and motioned to the door. "I guess we've got a long day ahead of us." And without an ounce of guilt, he jumped from one ship to the next.

Chapter 25

Scarab held Violet tightly on her lap with one arm while she kept the other hand on a loaded weapon. They were in an old bounty hunting transport pushing their way to the border with Kenti and the rest of the team. Another boom sounded, rocking the vehicle, and Scarab smiled. Weevil wasn't kidding when he said The Beast would win.

"Are you sure we're in no danger from that?" Tenet asked, squinting in the early morning sun out across half-harvested fields, trying to see the damage the round had caused.

"As long as we're not relying on electricity," Scarab confirmed for the third time. "Like I said, it's just an electromagnetic pulse to fry the communications systems."

"And power grids and transportation grids and electronic weaponry and..." Kenti shook his head and grinned. "We've crippled them."

Tenet shook his head and frowned. "More than you know."

Kenti saw the look on Tenet's face and bristled. "We didn't start this war," he said defensively.

Tenet sighed. "I know. I just wish things had gone differently."

Wren leaned back and closed his eyes. "Every warrior wishes conflict to be a last resort."

Kenti nodded. "Listen to the Celtie, here. He's right."

Wren didn't even bother to get offended. He was tired and worried. His brothers, both by blood and in arms, were on that front line, and he hoped they were safe. Without communications, the Southland soldiers at the front would attack. At least he would, in their position. They were openly fired upon. Pride alone would move them to charge. He continued his silent prayers to the Mother as the vehicle was rocked by another sonic wave.

Kenti turned to speak with his team and Violet let out a small snore. Tenet laughed softly. "I can't believe she can sleep through this."

"It's been a long few weeks for her," Scarab said. She kissed the top of her daughter's head. "Do you think they changed her?" she asked Tenet quietly, voicing her most terrifying concern.

Tenet shook his head and moved his hand to his wife's knee. "No. She's too much like you."

Scarab snorted and leaned back in her seat. Violet shifted to a more comfortable position, her arm flopping over and her leg sprawled.

"See?" Tenet said, pointing to his daughter's less-than-classy position. "They couldn't turn her into a lady no matter how much they tried."

Scarab turned her head to look at Tenet. She wanted to see the twinkle in his eye. She wanted to see the spark of pure life that was Tenet, to know it hadn't dimmed. She had to know he wasn't changed, either. To her relief, she saw what she needed. "I love you, you know." Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as soon as the words were out, but Tenet leaned over, touching his forehead to hers and not letting her look away, his grin melting her insides even more.

"Took you enough years to say it." He closed his eyes and let the coil of terror and anger that had ruled him for weeks finally release. "Thank you for coming to haul my ass out of there again."

Scarab smiled. "Anytime."

"Let's have this be our last trip south, hm?"

Scarab laughed and shook her head. "As long as he leaves us alone."

"He will," Tenet said firmly. "He'll be too busy trying to cover his ass."

Scarab knew that. "It's why I didn't kill him, you know. I wanted him to suffer and the only way people like that suffer is if they see their world crumble down around them. Now _that's_ real pain."

Tenet opened his eyes and looked at his wife. "That's diabolical."

She grinned with pride. "Thanks."

Tenet wasn't smiling. "I wanted to kill him. I think I would have if that pulse hadn't gone off when it did."

Scarab knew he was being honest. "I'm glad you didn't kill him."

"So he'd suffer."

She shook her head. "No, that's why I'm glad _I_ didn't kill him." She shifted Violet on her lap so she could tuck her gun under her leg, freeing up her hand. "I'm glad you didn't kill him for you." She laced her fingers with his and closed her eyes, letting out a big yawn. "One of us is bad and one of us is good. We won't work if we're both diabolical assholes who want to watch people suffer." She yawned again and started to drift off.

Tenet studied his wife's face thinking about her words. He didn't know if he was glad he didn't shoot his father. He wished he could be. He wanted to still be the Tenet that could let things roll off his back. But sometimes, things left their mark. He knew this was one of those times. He'd have many nights replaying the scene in his childhood bedroom and many fantasies about how good it would have felt to pull the trigger. In the end he simply walked away. Maybe someday he could feel good about that. Maybe someday he could think about the encounter with the same confidence Scarab did. Hell, maybe he'd even feel glad that his father was watching everything collapse, like she was. And maybe that day, he'd feel something other than the deep sadness for all of them they were leaving behind.

Tenet kissed his wife's forehead and turned to watch the landscape pass. There would be time for those thoughts later. They were still in enemy territory a long way from home. As Wren had said twice already, they weren't done. Someday, he'd figure out how to reconcile everything inside. For now, he shut down the thoughts and closed his eyes to get sleep while he could.

They drove through the afternoon and well into the evening before they needed to stop at a hidden Borderland cache for fuel and supplies. As they gassed up the vehicle, Scarab took Violet to use the bathroom, then let her run up and down the rows of already harvested tomatoes. There were no people in sight, and she could not hear the hum of any harvesters. The evening was very warm, and a dry wind blew whorls of dust up into the air. The very stillness was both eerie and familiar and she closed her eyes and tilted her head back to let the hot air blow through her hair.

Tenet brought over some food Kenti had given and he called Violet to eat. "It'll be Summer soon," he said as he watched his daughter play a hopping game over the barren mounds of the growing field. "How will they all migrate?"

Scarab had no idea. She knew Tenet was really starting to think about the implications of the war now. He had gone silent since early that afternoon, and she knew by the far away look in his eye he was wishing there was something more he could have done to help. Personally, Scarab didn't care if all the Southlanders fried in the unforgiving Summer sun. She loved the fact that Tenet did, even after all those bastards put him through. He was still her Tenet. "I'm sure they'll be fine, Tenet."

There wasn't any more time for talk as Violet came running up. "I hopped over seventeen rows," she said out of breath. "And I didn't even fall." Tenet smiled at her and handed over her meal. "It's jerky!" she shouted happily. She took a big bite and grinned. "I never want to see another salad in my life."

"Atta girl," said Scarab, giving Violet a nod of approval.

Tenet held up his hand. "Hold up. Your body needs the vitamins and minerals vegetation can provide..."

Violet rolled her eyes. "I was just kidding, Da."

"Yeah, Tenet," Scarab said sarcastically. "Jeez." The twinkle in her eye made Tenet smile in spite of his worry. He nudged her with his shoulder and they ate their meal in silence while Violet babbled about all the things she was not going to miss eating.

"And there was this jelly crap on everything," she said, rolling her eyes.

Tenet chewed his jerky and nodded. "Tell me about it. The very bane of my childhood. Carrot jellies and onion jellies and mushroom jellies...mushroom!" He put his hand out to Violet. "I promise you I will never again let a jelly cross your path."

Violet giggled and shook his hand. "Deal!"

"Jellies really aren't that bad," Scarab said.

"Oh no, wench. It's far too late in our marriage contract to amend that particular clause."

"I've been thinking for years that the one thing that could spice up our dinner table would be a nice, thick, jiggly, watercress jelly." Scarab's eyes shone with laughter, and Tenet put his jerky down and crossed his arms over his chest.

"If you put a plate of jelly on my dinner table, you'll find yourself in a dress even before the jelly stops wobbling!"

Violet laughed and laughed. "Mumma in a dress? Yes!"

Scarab tipped her head at Tenet in concession. "No jelly, then."

"Aw! C'mon, Mumma. Jelly! Jelly!"

Tenet picked up Violet and whirled her around. "If there's jelly to be eaten, then I won't be eating it alone. You better think carefully, little girl. All that wiggly, wobbly, slippery sludge will be on your plate, too!"

Wren smiled as he approached the family. He felt a warrior's pride at bringing them back together, while still feeling a brother's fear at what they might face. He let them have their moment and when it looked like they had settled down to eat their meal, he joined them, crouching as low as his soldier's uniform would allow. He could not wait to get back in his leathers, that was for sure.

"Kenti has received word that there is fighting ahead." He said the words as casually as possible, so as not to alarm Miss Violet, but saw that Scarab and Tenet both understood the implications. "A different course will be taken."

Scarab looked at Wren and felt his fear for the Celtist warriors. "They are fine men in battle, Mr. McKay," she assured him.

Wren gave a nod, then rose to join the rest of the team. If he stayed with his friends, he would not remain strong. He saw a look of confusion on Tenet's face, but he knew Mrs. Lorne would understand and explain. He spent the rest of the break staring north, hoping for the best.

The ground vehicle traveled at a faster rate than the electric transports of Southland had. They drove hard through the night, and By the time the next dawn was breaking, they were very near the border and began passing fields of downed bots. The driver had to slow to carefully maneuver around the useless mechanical army until there was no choice but to stop and allow the team to manually clear the way.

Scarab bent and grabbed one of the dangling lasers from a downed bot and pulled, hurling it behind her out of the way. "That's some weapon he made," she muttered, thoroughly impressed. "Guess he'll expect some kind of medal for this."

"What's a medal?" Violet asked. The bots were light and small and Violet found throwing them to be great fun.

"An award. An accommodation," Tenet explained, chucking the bots two at a time. "It's a present you get for doing something good or brave."

"Can I get a medal?"

Scarab snorted. "For what?"

"I was very good and brave."

Scarab stopped and tipped her head. "Fair enough. We'll get you a medal."

Violet grinned. "Can I show Beddick?"

Tenet sighed. "That's _Mr._ Beddick, and yes. I suppose if we can find a medal," he said pointedly to Scarab, "then Mr. Beddick would like to see it."

Scarab wiped her brow on her sleeve, then motioned to the metallic carnage around them. "How many hunks of metal did he make?"

Tenet shook his head and went back to work. When the driver determined they could push through the rest, everyone piled back in. The useless metal soldiers thinned and stopped, the ground in front clear and bot-free within only a few more minutes of travel.

"Why is this area clear?" Tenet asked. "I would have thought they'd be right up to the border." Wren frowned and nodded his agreement.

"It was only an advance line," Kenti explained. "It was supposed to be in the front, the first wave of power to protect the human troops."

Tenet frowned. "But we didn't pass any human..." his voice trailed off. If there were no bodies, no signs of humanity, then when the metal bots fell, the Southland soldiers must have pushed ahead. "Oh."

The adults rode in silence, wondering when they'd begin to see soldiers not made of metal that had fallen. They got their answer less than an hour later as the first group of Southland soldiers passed them running the other way, retreating from the border.

"Maybe we should move Violet," Scarab said, seeing the look of terror on the faces of the Southland soldiers.

"I wanna see," said Violet, turning to kneel on the bench and stare out the windows.

Tenet picked her up and settled her on the floor between he and Scarab. "'Wanna' is not a word," he corrected. "And there are some things little girls shouldn't see, no matter how much they might want to."

"But..."

"No buts," Scarab said, pulling her gun out and checking the rounds. The impulses had destroyed their weapons' stun capabilities, and any shot would have to be a potential kill if they encountered trouble.

"Listen to your mother, Miss Violet," Wren said in his best warrior voice.

Violet sighed. "Yes, Mumma."

They rode in silence, everyone tense and on their guard. A transmission came through Kenti's walkie talkie with coordinates for them to meet a group of soldiers who would then safely escort the Lornes across the border. "We're fifteen miles out," Kenti said. They could hear shooting, and he looked to Scarab. "Get down. Cover your girl." He pulled out his gun and locked in the rounds. "Both of you. Down."

"I can help shoot," Scarab insisted.

Wren knew Mrs. Lorne was torn. "This is not a hunt. This is a war."

Scarab stared at Wren for a minute before nodding and sliding to the floor, where Tenet already had Violet positioned on his lap. "You keep your head down, young lady. And stay quiet."

Violet's heart was racing. Her Mumma and Da were scared, and that made her scared, too. She closed her eyes tight and leaned into her Da's chest. When they began to hear gunshots, she burrowed deeper. Mumma put her hand on her back, and Violet turned and flung herself into her Mumma's arms.

Scarab blinked in surprise, then looked to Tenet. Violet never turned to her. Tenet was always the one to offer comfort. For a brief moment, she didn't really know what to do. She had a gun in one hand, and a scared child in the other.

Tenet's mouth lifted in a wry smile at the look of utter panic on his wife's face. He reached over and removed the gun, then pulled her hand around Violet's back and patted it into place. "There. That's all you need to do."

"But I should be ready in case..."

Tenet wouldn't let her finish. "And I'm a highly trained soldier, even if it's been awhile." He checked the weapon and moved into a crouch, holding on to the seats with his free hand as the vehicle bounced over the unpaved terrain.

Violet was clutching Scarab tightly. Scarab still felt helpless and confused, but she did what Tenet always had with their daughter and slowly patted her back and whispered calming things. "It'll probably be okay, Violet. Honestly." She shot a terrified look at Tenet, and he nodded and motioned for her to continue. Scarab swallowed, wishing she paid better attention when Tenet had soothed Violet's fears in the past. "Uh, Da is much better with a weapon than you think. Oh! Mr. McKay is on point, that's good. I can't speak to the skills of the others, since I don't really know anything about them, but Kenti seems like he knows what he's doing. They'll put up a fight, anyway."

Tenet had to hold back a smile. That was supposed to soothe a terrified little girl? And yet, for some crazy reason, it really seemed to be doing the trick. Violet snuggled into Scarab's embrace, releasing the death grip she had around Scarab's neck.

"And we've already come so far," Scarab pointed out. "So they have to have some skill."

"They aren't as good as you, Mumma," Violet said firmly.

"Well, no. Of course not. But at least there's a lot of them."

Tenet turned his head and bit his lip hard. As soon as he caught sight of the world outside their safe little transport, all humor faded. Stretched out before him, in front of the mountains he loved and missed, were bodies. Humans. Dead soldiers, not mere chunks of metal. Everyone in the vehicle tensed, and Scarab could only imagine what they were seeing as she kept up her inane babbling, hoping that Violet wouldn't pick up on the horrified vibe that clung in the air around them. The unmistakable smell of death wafted in the open windows, and while the other scrambled to close them, Scarab pulled Violet's collar up over her nose.

"Ew! What's that smell?"

Scarab's mind raced. "Uh, it's just, um..."

"It's manure," Tenet said, pulling his own shirt up over his nose. "They're planting a quick crop before Summer."

It wasn't manure. Her parents would not be upset if that's all it was. Violet settled back against Mumma and bit her lip to keep from crying. She wanted to be home. She wanted to be home in her own bed away from all the soldiers and the scary sounds of shooting that got louder and louder. Mumma's arms tightened around her and she knew they were in real trouble.

"We'll just sit still and be quiet now, okay? Just like when you go hunting." Scarab felt Violet's nod and held her close, wishing there was any other way to get through to the border.

Tenet watched the grim scene around their transport. It was unlike anything he could have imagined, far beyond what was taught at the Academy. Soldier dressed in the Southland garb were in various states of chaos, anguish, and death. They passed groups who struggled to treat their injured. Others walked in their practiced lines heading south, giving up and running away from the war they never knew how to fight. The worst were the ones that simply sat and stared blankly as the transport rolled by. Their eyes were dead and their faces were pale. Nothing they'd ever learned had prepared them to handle the fighting and the killing. Nothing in their lives was ever that harsh and brutal and as they rode, Tenet felt a frustrated anger build.

"It's not right," he said firmly.

"They asked for it," Kenti said again.

Tenet turned. "You keep saying that, but you're wrong, Kenti." He pointed out the window at a soldier who was too numb to even move out of the way of the oncoming vehicle. "Look at him. Did he ask for this? No," Tenet said, bitterly. "None of them did. They never even had that option. All of these Southlanders are dead because of a sick, twisted, selfish asshole and..."

"Tenet," Scarab said quietly but firmly.

Tenet stopped his rant and looked down at his daughter's wide eyes. He pressed his lips together and turned to stare back out the window. The driver of their transport had to turn to avoid the soldier and as they went by, the man stared directly into Tenet's eyes. "They didn't ask for this," he said quietly. "No one did. They weren't prepared, they weren't trained for a war. Hell, they aren't even trained to handle a real life." He sighed heavily. "They never even had a chance."

They rode in silence until they reached the mouth of a river that cut through a wide valley. The pockets of injured soldiers petered out, and as they rode up the bank of the river, it soon became clear why. High up on the steep cliffs that flanked the valley were large turrets protecting the valley. The vehicle stopped and Kenti used the walkie talkie to call for the soldier group that would escort the Lornes through to Carlton.

"You're leaving us?" Tenet asked.

Kenti nodded. "Yep. This is as far as we go. You'll be safe with this team." He pointed toward a convoy of three transports coming in their direction.

Scarab didn't doubt it. The turrets manned by the Borderlanders would keep them safe no matter who provided the escort. She helped Violet stand, then flexed the kinks out of her knees before following her out of the transport. She held her hand out to Kenti. "You're a good soldier, and I thank you for your help in getting my family back."

Kenti gave her a wry smile. "Did I help? Because as I remember it, you were pretty much a one man army."

"One woman army," she said with a twinkle of amusement and pride in her eye. "And don't forget that."

Kenti laughed and gave Tenet a sympathetic look. "I don't know how you do it, but good luck." He ruffled Violet's hair, then turned and barked orders for his team to get back in the transport as the new team pulled up.

Wren tensed for a moment, then pushed by Scarab. He knew the soldier that was coming for them, even if he was clean-shaved and in foreign military gear. "Lendyl!" he said with relief as he clasped the boy's arm. He hesitated only a second before pulling him in for a hug. While Lendyl hugged him back, Wren could already feel the change in him. He was no longer a boy, and even though Wren was sorry for what that meant, he was proud that Lendyl had turned into a true warrior. He pulled back, still grasping Lendyl's arm in a warrior's welcome, and studied his face. "I believe you have seen more than you wished."

Lendyl swallowed hard and gave a curt nod. "The Mother was generous with her assistance. I never faltered."

Wren pressed his lips together. Lendyl's eyes were hurt and tired, and Wren knew that he had killed. "We shall meditate together when the Mother delivers us to safety."

Relief washed through Lendyl. He had been torn up inside for days, wondering how it was he could kill, how he could be a great warrior now, and still feel such pain and misery for doing the very thing he swore to do. Wren seemed to understand, and that alone was a balm on his wounded self. "I am very glad to find you well," he said with sincerity.

Wren gave him a smile and released his arm. He remembered how difficult his first battle was, how much it changed him. If Mordin hadn't been there to guide him through the journey, he wondered what would have become of him. Lendyl had started down the crucial path, and though Wren felt guilty for not being there from the start, it couldn't be helped. Perhaps the fact that he faced the initial steps alone would make Lendyl even stronger.

Lendyl turned from Wren and held his hand out to Mrs. Lorne. She shook it as a warrior, and he no longer felt confused or unsure about the woman. "It is no surprise to me that you recovered your husband."

Wren smiled at Lendyl's jab. Yes, the man would be alright. He was changed, but for the good. He was stronger, wiser.

Tenet gave Lendyl an unabashed grin, with no trace that he was offended in the slightest. "I told you she'd drag me out of the fire." He shook Lendyl's hand and slapped the warrior on the back in good natured humor. "It looks like you managed to keep yourself whole as well."

Lendyl instantly sobered. He turned to Wren. "Takar fell."

Wren's heart skipped a beat and only his years as a leader of uncompromisingly strong men kept him from running to the vehicles and demanding he be brought to the body of his brother. Tenet gasped and Scarab swore, but Wren held Lendyl's gaze. "Was it an honorable death?"

Lendyl shook his head. "You misunderstand. He lives, but his injuries are great. Only the Mother can decide his fate now."

Wren released the breath he had been holding. He turned to Tenet. "You will tend him." He did not wait for a response. He turned and strode to the waiting vehicles, and the others ran after him.

"He is being tended by the army healers," Lendyl said.

Wren made a face as the vehicles lurched forward. He swore in the Celtist language and pounded his fist on the dashboard of the transport. "They dare lay their hands on a mighty Ogden warrior?"

Lendyl turned to Tenet, knowing Wren was beyond listening to reason. "There was no choice. We had no time to summon a healer from a southern sect."

"How badly is he injured?" Tenet asked.

Lendyl shook his head, giving Violet a look.

Wren's hand clenched into a tight fist on his lap. He knew Takar would be foolish, he just knew it. "I told him not to be a hero hunting for glory!" he bellowed. Even Scarab jumped. None of them had ever seen such a display of emotion from Wren, and they didn't know how to handle it.

"I rode with the tactical team lead by the honorable Fratz Gundersson." It was a marvel to those familiar with the Celtist history that Lendyl could give such a title to a soldier. "We cleared the ranks of the machine army." He turned to Wren. "You have never seen such a thing, Wren. The machine soldiers went for miles and miles."

"Yes, we had to pick our way through," Scarab said.

Lendyl grinned then, showing a flash of the excited boy he was when he entered the mission. "They were slain by our hand. Well, not our hand. That machine killer Weevil made. We rode behind them like the wind, and as we passed they fell as if slain by the Mother herself! They hardly had time to fire."

"If your defeat was so great, why does my brother lay dying?" Wren snapped.

Lendyl turned back to him. "I was not there. We had miles and miles and miles of machines. When we were called back, we had to fight our way through the soldiers. The people climbed over the wall of metal to attack. They should have taken the warning and fled." Lendyl swallowed hard at the memory. "Takar was with the forward assault. He fought brave and fierce. I was not there, but already there are stories told."

A lot of good a story would be if he died, Wren thought, then instantly felt guilty for the very idea. Of course a story would be fitting, perhaps a prayer or even a song. It was the glory every warrior sought, to fall with honor and bravery. If any other warrior lay injured from the battle, even young and innocent Lendyl, Wren would have felt nothing but pride. But Takar, he never should have been a warrior in the first place. Wren should have pushed his younger brother away, insisted he live a more gentle life. He hadn't, and that was a guilt Wren would carry with him forever. He knew Takar would want stories and prayers and songs. It would be the proof he always sought to show everyone he was as strong as any other and as worthy a warrior as the next. Takar would want it, but Wren only wanted his brother to live. Perhaps he was getting too old and soft to be a warrior.

They rode in silence as they followed the river. In just a few minutes, they turned with a sharp bend in the path of the valley, and Carlton loomed before them. "I wish we had known about this valley six years ago," Tenet said to Scarab, remembering their treacherous trek up the side of the mountain they now easily skirted.

"That would have been way too easy."

They stopped at a large gate and the driver spoke with a soldier. In a moment, the soldier made a hand gesture and the gate opened. All around the base were tents, with people walking quickly in and around them.

"What's all this?" Tenet asked, surprised at how quickly the base had changed.

"First aid tents," the driver said, pulling up in front of the large main building. "To treat the influx of wounded."

"Where is Takar McKay?" Wren demanded.

The driver shook his head. "I don't know."

"We'll find him," Tenet said, already leaving the vehicle. He stopped and turned back to Scarab, who motioned for him to go. He pecked her cheek, told Violet to listen to her mother, then took off with Lendyl and Wren to find Takar. He didn't know if he could help, but he'd do everything in his power to try.

"Mrs. Lorne," said Major Krupkie, standing right outside the vehicle door. "I see your mission was a success." She motioned for Scarab to follow her.

"As was yours," she said, stepping out and pulling Violet with her.

Krupkie looked around the busy yard and sighed. "Is it? My mission was never this. My mission was to get them to leave us alone." She shook her head sadly. "I suppose that's just too hard for some people to understand. Come. You'll need to be debriefed. I can find someone to watch the..."

"She stays."

Krupkie opened her mouth, then closed it again at Scarab's look. "Your call. It's going to be very boring."

"For both of us," Scarab muttered. Violet heard and giggled, earning them both a confused look from Krupkie. Scarab cleared her throat. "Lead the way."

Chapter 26

Bradwin sat on a small cot in a small room he never knew existed in his home. He looked around the simple space with wonder and confusion. How could he have an entire room in his own home and never even know about it? Were there others? And, if so, how many? It was fascinating. Simply fascinating. The door opened and Udin walked in. It had been a long time since Bradwin saw any other people, maybe even a few days, and he jumped up in excitement when he saw his longtime right hand man. "Udin!" He tried to thrust his hand forward in greeting, but the antique metal shackles that bound his wrist and feet brought him back to reality. "Have you finally come to your senses?" he asked, with all the authority he could muster.

Udin looked at the man. Just a few days before, he was on the top of the world. People cowered before him and tripped over themselves in their scramble to make him happy. And now what was he? He was a tired, small, old man. Had Udin really feared him? Had Udin really sold his soul to do this man's bidding? Not for the first time, he felt nauseous with self-reproach. "Sit," he commanded.

Bradwin struggled with himself for a moment before sitting. It didn't matter what he was. In his current situation, he had no choice. The sane part of his brain that only seemed to surface once in awhile over the last few days knew that Udin was his only chance to get out of the mess he created for himself.

Udin took a chair and sat stiffly in front of Bradwin. He had thought carefully about what he was going to do with his life in the wake of the nation's worst upheaval. He thought about who he was, who he had been, and what he wanted for his future. Though a subject of great importance to himself, Udin had no illusions that Bradwin would care. However, since their fates had been tightly entwined for so many years, Udin felt he had to spell it out for Bradwin. He felt he owed him that. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Perhaps Bradwin owed it to Udin. Whatever the reason, Udin had thought long and hard and decided that he had to be the one to level with his former boss.

"You are about to face a trial, and I will not be there to defend you."

Bradwin's eyes went wide and he tried to make sense of what Udin was saying. "Excuse me?"

Udin shifted in his chair. The guards outside Bradwin's makeshift cell had warned him that the old man seemed a little touched in the head. Physicians had assured everyone in the Council that it was simply due to old age and stress, but as he looked at the foggy eyes of Bradwin, Udin wondered. "You heard me. You will face a trial for your crimes."

Bradwin scoffed and shook his head. "Crimes? Please. I have committed no crimes."

Udin stared at the man. "You're joking, right?"

"I have done nothing but lead my people."

It suddenly dawned on Udin that Bradwin honestly believed that, and he was stunned.

"Yes, I grew drugs," he continued when Udin sat there and stared. "I freely admit that. Do you know what we got for them? Hm? A few small herbs from us, and they gave us food. Cloth. Security."

"Those drugs killed people," Udin said. "Lots and lots of people."

"Not people," Bradwin said heatedly. "Savages."

"Human beings!"

Bradwin scoffed and wished he could go back to pondering the rooms of his house instead of having a circular conversation. "Don't act like you weren't a part of it."

Udin did many things over the years that were less than honorable. He covered Bradwin's ass, because that was his job. "I did my job. Nothing more, nothing less."

"And what do you think I was doing, hm? The Council shot down the procreation restrictions and opened our borders for female imports. Our population has grown, while our crops have remained the same." Bradwin tried to spread his hands, but only managed to wiggle his fingers. "What would you have me do, hm? Tell me, Mr. High and Mighty. Tell me what it was I should have done."

Udin shook his head. "Plowed the alfalfa fields to grow grains. Ease the ridiculous state ban on animal protein consumption. Hell, for that matter, just trade fair with the Borderlands."

Bradwin looked at Udin and shook his head. "At what cost?"

Udin scoffed. "Don't give me that bullshit, old man. We're the richest nations in the world. We could have spared a little to keep ourselves from starving."

It occurred to Bradwin that perhaps he shouldn't have kept some things so close to the chest for so many years. Udin was a very clever man. Perhaps he could have seen all of this coming. If only he had let him get closer, he would know what he was saying now. "It's not about money, Udin. It's about our very way of life."

Udin looked up and quirked an eyebrow.

"Think about it. They're savages." When Udin's mouth opened, Bradwin rushed on, not letting him speak. "No, now you just listen to me. They are. They do not have an electrical grid. Most of them shit in the outdoors, for goodness sake! You saw my granddaughter, and that was with Tenet doing his very best to make her cultured and teach her a modicum of respectability."

Udin snorted. "He didn't seem to be trying that hard."

"No, he didn't," Bradwin said, suddenly feeling on top of the situation for the first time in days. "That's my point. He's gone native himself. They got their claws into a boy who was...well, he never would have been a leader or a great man down here. But even you have to admit, he was the pinnacle of cultured breeding."

Udin gave a shrug of concession. The only scandal he had to cover up involving Tenet was his leaving. Until then, Tenet gave every appearance of perfection.

"And in just six years, they stripped him of his breeding, his culture, that inborn regal quality that was his very pride. Don't you see, Udin?" Bradwin sat forward, needing at least one person to understand. "If I opened that door, all of this would be gone. Not the money. But us. Our very culture would be stripped."

Udin hated that he could see the reason behind the old man's words. It was warped and twisted, but it made a sick sort of sense. "We opened trade with the Third Worlds."

Bradwin laughed, feeling a surge of hope cut through the inane musings he'd intentionally used to occupy his mind in his tiny cell. He had worked with Udin long enough to know that at least some of what he was saying was getting through to the man, and he held on to that hope with both hands. "And they are all the way across the globe, are they not? They can remain their own culture, a mystery, an interesting vacation destination for the bored upper echelon." Bradwin sat straighter, feeling more and more like himself with every shred of doubt he saw in Udin's eyes. He was making his case. If he could sell it to Udin, then the man would sell it to the rest. "The Third Worlds are a novelty, nothing more, because they can be. They are so far away they remain 'us' and 'them'."

"You don't think very much of our people."

Bradwin gave Udin a bland look. "Until you decided to go on this recent moral journey, you didn't, either."

It was a fair point. Udin spent most of his days lying to people, and they ate it up. He would tell the biggest, most incredibly unlikely whopper, and simply because he said it, they believed him. The system was designed to control puppets, and the public was, by and large, blindly accepting of their strings. There were no uprisings, no citizen revolts. The Council quelled any murmurs of discontent and were able to do so because the average Southlander or New Canadian believed whatever pile of shit the Council shoveled their way. Whenever he stopped to really think about it, Udin was both thrilled and outraged by the naivete of the general public.

So Bradwin really did have a point. However, as Udin thought of the casualty reports he'd heard from Jiti Ton's men at the front lines, the outrage overtook any old amusements he used to have at the public's expense. A blind, trusting people could never have a war. They pretended they were trained by the Academy, that they were the ultimate soldiers, that their forces could not be beaten, and they kept that hubris simply because they'd never been challenged. They never had to prove themselves. The Council was very good at paying for peace in private while bragging about their muscle in public. The soldiers who followed Bradwin's selfish command had no idea what they were walking into and a slaughter ensued. There were losses on both sides, but for every one Borderlander soldier that fell, Southland lost ten. It was a blood bath, and Bradwin had to know it would be. He had to know.

Udin sat and quietly fumed for a moment before he could speak. "You were always good at justifications, I'll give you that."

Bradwin felt that tiny tingle of fear again, but quickly tamped it down. "It's not a justification if it's the truth. If we opened those borders, there would be nothing to stop that savagery from invading."

Udin snorted. "They didn't want to invade. They only wanted you to stop poisoning their people."

"They aren't people!" Bradwin bellowed, his frustration getting the better of him. He took a shaky breath. "Udin, listen to me..."

"No," said Udin calmly. "For once, you listen to me." He sat forward, his face inches from Bradwin's. "For years I did as you asked. For years I looked the other way about the drugs and the strong arm tactics because I let you talk me into thinking it was for the best. People were eating, they were wearing the pretty clothes they wanted, and they seemed happy. Why rock the boat?"

"Exactly!" Bradwin said.

"And then two days ago, you launched a war we could not win. You sent seven thousand soldiers to the front lines to be slaughtered."

Bradwin's jaw ticked. "I'm sure those numbers are inflated..."

Udin jumped up, suddenly needing to either hit him or move. "You said they had bows and arrows and spears. You sold this war to the Council with 'proof' that their numbers were smaller than ours, that they were so backwards that we'd easily roll over them."

"But..."

"No!" Udin yelled, coming to a stop in front of him again. "I said I was going to speak and you will listen. You lied. Plain and simple."

"Like you never have."

"Not on something that would kill people!" Udin stood back and tried to get hold of himself. "Seven thousand, Bradwin. That's more than the entire population of the corn and wheat sectors combined. Seven thousand men, fathers, brothers, sons. And you knew. You knew they had greater capabilities. You knew you were sending our boys into battle expecting sticks instead of guns." He shook his head in disgust. "How in the hell could you do that?"

Bradwin had enough. He forced himself to stand in spite of the awkwardness of being shackled. "Now you see here. I am still the Exalted Leader of the..."

"Oh, you hadn't heard?" Udin said simply. He waited for the implication to dawn on Bradwin. "Ah, so you hadn't heard."

Bradwin's eyes flashed shock for a second, his heart doing that odd slamming thing in his chest once more. "I have done nothing but serve my country," he insisted. "How could I possibly know that they were so well armed?"

"Cut the bullshit," Udin sneered. "We've found your secret intel. We've got irrefutable proof. Witnesses, electronic transmissions...hell, we've even discovered your little private army."

Bradwin was too stunned to feel anything. "They'll never talk," he mumbled.

Udin laughed. "They already have! And thank god on that, too, because without their information, we'd still be losing men. We wouldn't know how to communicate with the Borderland forces and call a halt to this idiocy. As it is, it'll take a miracle to get them to allow us to travel over their lands for our migration, if we can even get the transports working again..." Udin shook his head. The sheer amount of work before them as a nation was staggering. "And you knew. You knew and you could have stopped it like that." He snapped his fingers.

"At what cost?" Bradwin demanded. "Society itself, that's what. Our society would have crumbled. Everything we know and love would have been gone."

Udin was done. He had hoped to break through, to appeal to the old man's intelligence, if nothing else. He hoped...hell, he didn't really know what he hoped. But it was clear that Bradwin either couldn't or simply wouldn't understand. "And maybe that's what we've needed all along, boss. Maybe all this needed to change. Have you ever thought of that?"

Bradwin scoffed. "I didn't see you object to the silk suits you wore to lavish parties, or the extra money I gave you to buy my wife that fancy perfume she likes!"

Udin began nodding as Bradwin spoke. "That's right, I didn't. But none of that shit killed people."

Bradwin shook his head slowly. "Oh, you poor, dumb fool. You honestly believe that, don't you?"

That old familiar feeling of guilty discomfort weighed heavily in Udin's stomach. There was nothing more to say. The truth was out there between them and nothing could change the past. After a long moment, Bradwin sank back onto the bed, his body crumpling when the hope fled, and Udin ran a shaking hand through his hair.

Udin noticed the chair he'd been sitting in got toppled when he jumped up, and he carefully righted it back under the small wooden desk. It struck him again how barren Bradwin's accommodations were. He was being housed in the servant quarters. An armed vehicle the Council acquired from the bounty hunting league would arrive the next day to transport Bradwin to a ship. He'd cross the ocean and spend his days in a holding cell in the Third Worlds while the Council cleaned up the mess in Southland and figured out a way to keep the people from frying in the unforgiving Summer sun. Udin had a meeting with Jiti Ton that very morning, and it looked as if the Borderlanders were open to negotiations.

"I have been offered a position as your defense attorney," Udin said at length. Bradwin didn't even bother to look at him. "I passed. Instead, I am taking a position as a liaison between the International Council of Nations and the Borderlands."

Bradwin blinked. "You're working for them?"

Udin nodded. "Yes."

Bradwin let out a bitter laugh. "I wonder if they know how quickly you'll stab them in the back if it's in your best interest."

Udin expected Bradwin to lash out. If he didn't get out of the room soon, Bradwin would start getting more and more vicious. It was time to leave. He turned and rapped on the door for the guard to let him out. "I leave tomorrow, as do you. I highly doubt I'll ever see you again, though I'll be sure to give the Council a full and honest testimony."

"Make you sure you tell them about your role in all this."

"Oh, I will," he said honestly. "I was just a lackey doing as I was told. I'm sure they'll see it my way since you so completely pulled the wool over their eyes as well." Bradwin snarled and spat a string of curses that once would have scared Udin. Now, from a broken old criminal, they sounded pathetically harmless. Udin shook his head and sighed. "You know what? I'm glad they left you alive." The door closed off Bradwin's swears and Udin wished he felt better about the interaction.

"Was it as cathartic as you hoped?" asked Irmara. She sat outside the room and listened to the entire exchange. She had wanted to go in and give Bradwin a piece of her mind, but since it never did any good in all their years together, she didn't want to waste another breath trying. She stood and walked down the hall with Udin, openly holding his hand and not caring who saw.

"Not really," he admitted. "I think...I think he honestly truly feels like he did the right thing."

Irmara sniffed. "You give him entirely too much credit."

"And you never gave him enough," he pointed out. "He'd not nearly the buffoon you took him to be." Irmara stopped in her tracks and stared at Udin. He took a few more steps, then stopped and turned. "What?"

"Udin, the one thing Bradwin is not is a buffoon. He never was, and the fact that you believe me so stupid as to be taken in..."

Udin grabbed Irmara's hand again and brought it to his lips, kissing it quickly. "I do not think you are stupid."

Irmara felt the frustration bubble up inside. When she heard that Bradwin was finished, her whole life changed. Though she was certain that the Council would not find her in any fault, all the Bradwin's funds would be stripped. She would be forced to abandon all of their properties. She knew she had a slight chance of appealing to their old time friends on the Council to retain at least one house in Southland and one in New Canada. However, even if she could, she would live the rest of her life on their whims. Just as it had been as a child in a poor village, her life was once again not her own.

And then Udin burst into her room amid the blackened chaos. He sat with her until the muscle spasms that held her captive had eased and brought her to his own room to recuperate. By the time he returned many hours later, she had calmed her mind and made her plans. Though she never before saw Udin as anything but an intense dalliance, he was now Irmara's only option. He would not be able to give her the good life she had known, and that was now her bitter reality. However, he actually loved her. She had believed he would do as she said, as her other lovers had, and that was the best she was going to get.

Udin thought her stupid, though. He thought her meek. Over the last couple days with him in constant contact with her, his opinions of her became clear. He thought the same as Bradwin had for all their marriage and the knowledge was like a kick in Irmara's stomach. He was kissing her hand and apologizing, but they were hollow words and she knew it. His eyes held the truth. Udin believed no better of her than Bradwin had and her mind reeled. Instead of Udin being her ticket out, the reality was that once again, she was no more than someone's prize. Irmara felt the metallic taste of bitterness in her throat as they continued down the hall to her rooms to pack. She had a mad urge to pull her hand away and run, but run where? She had nowhere else to go.

Udin stopped at her door and gave the guards the order to open the suite. Since the electrical grid had been utterly destroyed by the long range Borderlands weapons, guards were posted in place of the electric locks they all knew and used. The guards let them in and Udin began to point out what was private property and what was to be left with the estate to be destroyed as the Council saw fit. He rattled off his lists, but became aware that Irmara was not answering. "What's wrong?" he asked, frowning with concern.

Irmara should have run with Tenet. She should have begged his hunter wife to bring her, too. She could have adapted. She could have gone without the fancy clothes and the pretty decorations. Sure, it would be a hardship to eat their root vegetables and meat. But it wasn't like she hadn't done that before. She was a native born girl, after all. She was born into a world with no electricity and hard work. Hadn't she told herself she missed it over the years? She still could run. She could make up some lie and take off for the border with others she heard were doing just that. She could beg entry, play on Tenet's fame. She was a native girl once. She could live that way again.

The very idea turned her stomach.

"Nothing," Irmara said, pasting on her fake smile. "I was just thinking of all of the horrid years in this house and how I shouldn't miss one single thing."

Udin grinned and pulled Irmara to him. She was stiff in his arms, not free and giving as she once was. But they were in a period of upheaval. Her whole life was changing, and in truth, she was handling it better than he could have expected. So she was holding back. So she wasn't as warm as she could be. Like everyone else, she just needed time, and he could live with that. He finally had her for his own, and all those whispered promises made in the hazy warmth of afterglow would finally come true.

Irmara let Udin pull her close and she pressed her fingernails into her palms behind his back until she felt them bite into her flesh. She felt his hand slide down her back to cup her bottom, and she closed her eyes tightly and let out a well-practiced moaned. She felt his response and knew he was about to throw her to the bed and take her. He needed it. He needed her. And since she had a list of things she needed from him, she let out a girlish giggle and pretended.

Chapter 27

Tenet didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful sight than the dark, scary path through the thick forest that would lead them up the mountain into Ogden. In fact, it was so moving, that he pulled his horse to a stop and waited for the others to catch up.

"Why did we stop, Da?" Violet asked, turning her head around and up to look at his face from her perch on the saddle in front of him.

"I just want to remember this," he said.

Violet frowned and shrugged. "You're a weirdo."

Scarab snorted as she pulled up next to Tenet. "Where did you hear that word?"

"Anka called me that all the time," she said, crinkling her nose at the memory of her cousin.

"Did you tell her it takes one to know one?" Scarab asked.

Tenet sighed. "Way to kill the moment, ladies." He gave Scarab a wry smile and she shrugged.

"May I have permission to lead us in?" Lendyl asked. He'd been trying to work up the courage to make the request since they changed from vehicles to horses at Last Inn.

Wren looked at the boy. No, man, he corrected himself, as he had to many times over the last few months. Lendyl left their village a boy, but he was returning a man. "I do not object."

"I think it be a fine idea," said Fratz. He had direct orders to see all the Ogden residents back to their village safely, and even brought the remainder of his troop with him. Though two had fallen in their advanced attack, the others would not hear of Fratz leading the Celtists home without them. Krupkie had been so pleased at the bonds that were forming between the army and the Celtist warriors that she ordered them all to go on the mission.

Lendyl's pride was clear in his eyes, though he schooled his features. Wren felt the pride of a teacher swell in his breast again. He was now a fine warrior, indeed. Capable. Worthy. Takar had been correct. It was Lendyl that would take Wren's place one day.

Wren felt the sadness tinged with calm as he thought about his brother. Takar had healed from his injuries, but would never be whole. He lost his leg and part of a hand. Even though the man Weevil assured Takar he was going to design a metal leg as a replacement, Takar would never again be able to fight for Ogden. When Wren heard Tenet's diagnosis, he had meditated for hours for the strength from the Mother to help Takar handle the bitter news, then went to him expecting the worst. Instead, he found his brother finally at peace.

"You look confused. I like this Wren," Takar had said, still pale and weak from the loss of blood.

"You do not seem as upset as you should."

Takar had waited for Wren to sit. "I fought bravely, brother. The enemies fell before my bow as if the Mother herself guided the arrows."

"Yes. The tale is already spreading. By the time we return to Ogden, your head will be five sizes too large for your doorway and a new house will need to be built."

Takar had smiled openly, perhaps the first true smile Wren had seen since they were children, and in that moment, Wren knew. Takar had changed, and soon Wren would be left without him. "I will not return to Ogden, brother. I am no longer a warrior." When Wren had protested, Takar would not let him finish. "What would happen for me in Ogden? I have no wife, nor will I ever. I am no longer a warrior and have no position. There is nothing there for me but sympathy. I cannot live with that."

"You will be cared for by the septad as a fine and brave member!" Wren's mind had scrambled to find any purpose for Takar. "Mordin is old. Perhaps the Mother would see fit to select you to be the new Grandfather." Even before the words were out, Takar had started laughing.

"Me? Grandfather? I would have to like to be around people for that. No, brother. When Mordin's time comes, I believe it will be you the Mother will select. I can think of no one better to raise the young men of Ogden and lead them down their paths." Takar had grabbed his brother's hand and squeezed it. "I will not be a burden on Ogden, Wren. I will not have old maids bring me my meals and young maidens look at me and wonder if I should have need of their...relief. I could not face their pity and confusions day after day. Can you not understand?"

Wren could understand even through his sadness. "Then you will stay here? To what end?"

Takar's face had turned red, something Wren wondered about over and over through the long trip back to Ogden. "To my own end. For my own purposes. Have I not earned it?"

When they parted weeks later, when Tenet's healing skills were no longer needed to help the wounded and it was clear there would be no more danger from Southland, Takar had stood with them, using a special crutch Weevil designed. He refused to wear the clothing of the army, keeping his leathers in spite of Krupkie's requests, and still looked like an Ogden warrior on the outside. However, Wren had noticed how calm Takar was. There was no longer anger in his eyes and for that, Wren could be glad. He had embraced Takar, not as a warrior, but as his brother, and told him their father's spirit was proud. His last image of his brother was one he would always treasure. Takar had stood proud and tall beside the man Weevil, who looked upon Takar with open adoration. Wren would not tell the septad of that, but inside, he rejoiced that his brother finally found acceptance.

It all came back to Wren as they entered the forest path. It was the first time in twenty years that he rode home without Takar by his side. It was bittersweet, and in spite of his excitement, he took a moment to say a prayer to the Mother.

The group made their way to the center where all paths into Ogden met, then hesitated. Tenet wanted to turn off the path and race to his house. He could not wait to fix them a dinner on their very own stove while his wife traded jokes with his daughter until the girl fell asleep. He could not wait to carry Violet into her room and tuck her into her own bed and kiss her gel-free hair as he wrapped the warm fur up over her. And then what he would do with his wife...

As much as he longed to be in his home right that moment, it would have to wait and he knew it. He could not race to his house and pick up life where it left off. He was part of the returning party, and he knew he must present himself to the village for their welcome as Scarab had explained. He might not be a warrior, but he was a member of Ogden and a decorated hero by the Borderlands government for the lives he saved after the first and only battle. He pushed all fantasies aside and turned his horse to follow Lendyl down the path that would lead them to the center of the village.

Lendyl's horse did not even break free from the path surrounded by thickly growing sister trees before they could hear the cheer of welcome.

"Is that for us, Da?" Violet asked, leaning forward to see past Lendyl.

Tenet smiled. "Yes, I think it is."

"Will I get my medal now?" she asked excitedly.

Tenet tightened his hold around her. "You certainly won't if you fall off this horse!"

Violet rolled her eyes but held on to Tenet's arm just in case he was right. They walked the few more steps and the village center opened in the clearing before them. Everyone was there, clapping and cheering and waving. She waved her hand, looking around the crowd for her friends."

"Violet!" came a clear, young voice.

"Beddick!" she yelled, seeing him and Kenda standing with Mrs. McKay on the steps of Hans' store. "Da, let me down!" she said, pulling against him, suddenly needing to see her friends.

Tenet saw the tears in her eyes and pulled his horse to a stop. He got down and was immediately surrounded by the townspeople. He felt a flash of fear as they closed in and suddenly wanted to get Violet out of there and back to safety.

"Tenet, let her go," said Scarab. "They're all friends here."

Tenet looked at his wife in wonder and surprise. Slowly he lifted Violet down and set her on the ground. He started after her when she began to push through the crowd, but Scarab was suddenly there, holding his hand, reassuring him.

"I never thought I'd see the day when you were the one telling me to relax," he said nervously.

Scarab's eyes twinkled with amusement, but she kept the smile in check. In truth, she was equally nervous. She did not like people. She did not like the fact that they were surrounded by the whole village and people were all talking and laughing and pushing. However, for the first time in her life, she did not think they were plotting against her. She felt like she had come home. Though she was still uncomfortable with the idea, Scarab forced herself to let them give their welcome. She even tried to smile, though she knew it came off fake and wooden when Mrs. McKay shot her a scared look. Still, she tried. And that was a huge step.

Wren embraced his wife and took her teary teasing about his short beard with good humor. And when she kissed him with deep passion, he wondered if perhaps if he would keep the beard trimmed after all. He released her and bowed to Mirvena and Mordin.

"A full accounting will be necessary for the chronicles," said Gwyn.

"Not now," Mirvena snapped at her niece. "There is plenty of time for that later. Can't you see they just got back?"

Gwyn rolled her eyes and smiled at Fratz, completely unmoved by her aunt's testiness. "It is said that you have agreed to sit for a telling."

Fratz looked uncomfortable, but nodded. Tenet had talked him into it back in Carlton, and Krupkie had been very quick to agree. "We've got a foot in the door to getting their trust, Gundersson. Don't screw it up."

"Id'na planned ta do the best I can," he assured her.

Gwyn clapped her hands in excitement. "Oh think of it! Chronicles from the army and Southland and a grand saga that shall be handed down for generations."

Mirvena sighed outwardly, but had to fight her own smile. "You and your soldiers are welcome to the hospitalities of Ogden," she said to Fratz. "You will be housed in the warrior sector. Lendyl can show you the way." Mirvena turned to Lendyl then, and welcomed him as a full warrior. There was no pomp, no official ceremony, or even words spoken loud enough for the rest of the chattering septad to hear. However, they all knew, and Lendyl stood tall and proud.

Mirvena moved to Wren. "It is with a sad heart we do not welcome everyone home. However, Takar's bravery and dedication cannot be denied. You raised a good warrior, and we shall sing about him at the solstice."

Wren's eyes filled with tears and his wife squeezed his hand. He could only nod for fear of embarrassing himself in front of the village if he spoke.

Mirvena moved to Tenet and Scarab, who both stood watching Violet with hawk eyes. "She will not be harmed here," she said quietly to the pair.

Tenet sighed. "I know." And he did, logically. "I can't help it if there are scars."

"Of course not," said Mirvena. "To think otherwise would be foolish." She turned to Scarab. "And what of you, granddaughter? Are you finally ready to take me up on my offer?"

Scarab tore her eyes away from Violet and stared at Mirvena with surprise. Many years ago, Mirvena told Scarab the time would come when Scarab would be ready to release her burdens, and Mirvena offered to take them from her. Over the years, Scarab had moments when she believed she was ready for that, ready to let go. However, every time she had started up the imposing hill toward the Celtist temple, she talked herself out of it. Her past made her who she was. The pain and fears made her strong, made her sharp, made her sure. They made her Scarab, and in the end, the idea of losing all of that was terrifying. Every time she started up that hill, she would turn back around and run, go on a hunt or help Tenet chop fallen sisters, anything to keep her focus clear. She knew what Mirvena was asking, and opened her mouth to once again thank her for the offer, but decline.

"I think I would like that," Scarab said, stunning herself. She clamped her mouth shut and felt her cheeks burn. She told herself to take it back, to fix her mistake. And then the image of Violet clinging to her for comfort, her, not Tenet, went through her head and she kept her mouth shut in spite of her fear.

Mirvena lifted her hand and ran it down Scarab's cheek. The woman before her was utterly terrified. It seemed the only thing that scared the huntress was herself. But Scarab would let go, of that Mirvena was certain. She was ready. Before her own emotions got the better of her and she made herself look like an old fool like Mordin, Mirvena dropped her hand and turned away. "Let these people go to their homes, you buzzards," she yelled at the crowd. "There will be plenty of time for gossip later!"

Tenet watched Mirvena climb the steep hill to the temple, then looked down at his wife's stunned face, a bemused look in his eye. "Um, what just happened?"

Scarab shook her head, unable to explain. There would be time later. There would be plenty of time later. She took his hand and cleared her throat. "Get your kid. I think it's time to go home."

Tenet grinned and called Violet. He made their excuses and dismissals to the crowd, promising he'd be in town the next day to tell them all about their adventure. He climbed up on his horse and held his hands down to take Violet from Scarab. He settled her in front of him, waved to the group, then turned his horse towards home.

"I'm glad to be home, Da," Violet said, her eyes sparkling with excitement and happiness.

"Me too, kiddo."

"Beddick said he missed me."

Tenet sighed. "Mr. Beddick," he reminded her. "And of course he missed you. Everyone missed you."

"But Beddick missed me best." She snuggled back against Tenet and yawned. "I will have to tell him tomorrow to start his championship."

Scarab snorted and Tenet groaned. "Oh no, you don't, missy."

Violet sat forward. "But Da! How will he win my favor?"

Scarab looked at Tenet's terrified expression and threw her head back and laughed. "Yeah, Tenet. He's already six, for crying out loud."

Tenet turned to Scarab, outraged. "Don't tell me you are in support of this idea?" Scarab's eyes glinted and he realized she was teasing him. His frown changed to a wry grin. "You'll pay for that later, wench."

Scarab flashed him a grin, then clicked her tongue and dug her heels into her steed, making him surge forward. Tenet gave chase, with Violet loudly cheering the race on and clinging to him with all her might. They turned the last corner and entered their clearing, then slowed and sat taking in the image.

The sun was low in the sky, casting a pale pink glow around the clearing that was nestled in a perfect circle in the forest. The grass had been trimmed and the lights glowed from inside the low, round building. It was clear that the roofing thatch had been replaced by one of their neighbors, and the smell of a stew cooking inside let them know that someone had gotten the house ready for their return.

"It's a lot different than the mansion in Southland," Scarab said, looking at their shabby home. After seeing the house where Tenet grew up, she couldn't shake the feeling that he gave up too much. As she watched him sitting there, staring, she knew what he would see. He'd see the shutter that had fallen off in an early winter storm that needed repair. He'd see the crumbling stones of the south chimney. When they got inside, he'd see the chipped wooden cup they let Violet use to hold flowers instead of the ornate enameled vases of Southland. There would be no carved marble walls, no soft electric lighting through crystals, no library of books that stretched from floor to ceiling. Their curtains would always be ugly, their sheets would get itchy in the heat, and every single day would be twice as hard as a Southland life.

Tenet turned to Scarab slowly and stared at her with his mouth open.

"What?"

He shook his head and nudged his horse, turning the beast so he could face Scarab. "You're right. It's a lot different than a mansion in Southland, and you have no idea how happy that makes me."

"We don't have money."

He shrugged. "Then we'll earn some."

"It'll take forever to afford a new transport."

Tenet patted the horse. "I'm getting used to these models. Not the best gas mileage, and boy do they smell sometimes." Violet giggled. "But at least they're open on a hot day, right?"

Scarab bit the corners of her mouth to keep from laughing. "Tenet, I'm being serious."

"And you're not saying anything I don't already know." He shook his head. "I've been living up here for almost seven years now. I know our house needs work, I know we'll have to be the ones to fix it, and I know I'll have to work my ass off to earn any extra thing we need or want. I get it. We're broke. We have no maids or mansions or yachts..."

Scarab quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't see a yacht."

"That's because we weren't on the coastal..." He stopped and shook his head quickly. "It doesn't matter. All that crap doesn't matter. I know we won't have any of it, and I mean it when I say this is the life I want. Marble is cold, crystal breaks, and dishes that match are just pretentious."

Scarab closed her eyes for a moment, the warmth of the sincerity in his voice acting like a balm on her fears. She needed to hear him say it. She needed to know that even after he got a taste of that easy life again, he'd still choose her. When she opened them and looked at Tenet, there was the twinkle in his eye and the half-smirk of his lips that always made her fall a little more in love with him. She didn't care how awkward it was, she suddenly needed to feel him and she threw her arms around Tenet, ignoring Violet's protests as she squeezed him tight.

Tenet laughed and wrapped his arms around Scarab as best he could with Violet on his lap, the reins in his hand, and an antsy horse trying to pull them apart.

"You're squishin' me!" Violet said, trying to wriggle out from between them.

Scarab chuckled and released her hold. "Way to kill the mood, kid."

Violet smoothed her hair away from her face and took a deep breath. "You can kiss and hug Da later. Can't we just go home already?"

Tenet and Scarab shared a smile before he turned his horse around towards the house. "Yes, Violet," he said, clicking his tongue to get his horse to take the last few steps of their long journey. "Let's go home."

~~~ * * * ~~~

About the Author:

Beth Reason likes most types of music, with country being the exception. She plays video games and will argue about first dibs on a new game with her teenagers. In fourth grade she started playing the saxophone, joined the chorus in seventh grade, and took two years of Latin in high school, thus rounding out her solid hold on both the geek AND the nerd cultures. She never wore a pocket protector, though. There are limits.

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Want to read more by Beth Reason? Sure you do!

Broken Tenets: Book I in the Tenet Series

Sacred Tenets: Book II in the Tenet Series

A Journey Deep

Four books not enough for you? Coming in March 2014: The Great Mother

Look for it on Smashwords soon!

