Trials of Conviction (The Firebird Chronicles, #5)

Kira and Eurus glanced in her direction.

Liara lifted her chin. "Although my House isn't militarily inclined, we'll do our part."

"That's all the emperor asks."

Kira's hands clenched, her fingernails biting into her palms as anger strangled her. The primus turned underneath her skin, its agitation adding to her own. It demanded action. That if Eurus and the emperor didn't want to cooperate, they would take the general for themselves.

If a few people were bloodied in the endeavor, so be it.

Kira's muscles locked, her struggle for control harder than it should have been as sweat dotted her forehead. A bloodbath wouldn't win her friends or allies. Eurus couldn't give in to her request if she ripped him in half.

Not to mention Helena and Castor's presence. Both of whom were rumored to have primus's of their own.

One—she might be able to take. Two? Not likely.

Throw in Harlow and the emperor's oshota rimming the room, none of whom were likely to allow her rampage to go unobstructed.

She had to be smart. Cunning.

Too bad Jin wasn't here to take her focus off things. He'd have had the perfect quip to defuse her primus.

Just when Kira had started to regain control, Harlow's words destroyed it again.

"Roake will answer the call as well."

"No." Kira's denial burst out before she could give conscious thought as she moved to her uncle's side, looming over him in a manner she knew was threatening. "That's not what you promised."

"Later, niece. This isn't the time or place."

"Oh my, Roake's heir seems a little out of control," Castor murmured in amusement. "This is why it's so important that only the truly mature be allowed to undertake the adva ka."

"You promised those battalions to me," Kira argued, ignoring the comment as she glared at her uncle's face.

Four battalions were a sizable chunk of Roake's forces. While Roake's warriors were considered the best, they also numbered the fewest. Her uncle couldn't answer the emperor's call, maintain the House's borders, and also assist in Kira's rescue operation.

Something had to give. From the way he was acting, it would be her.

"Kira," Liara cautioned.

"I know what I promised, but Roake's duties can't be shirked. If you had grown up properly in a House, you would understand that."

The harsh words left Kira blinking as unexpected hurt squeezed her ribs. "Watch yourself, old man."

Harlow finally deigned to look at her. "I'm not the one acting like a petulant child."

Chairs scraped against the ground as those in the immediate vicinity evacuated.

Color leached out of Kira's skin as violet symbols etched themselves over every inch of her body, their meaning arcane and only understandable to the very oldest and well learned of the Tuann. Her primus peered through her eyes.

"Kira, calm," Liara urged from the other side of the table. "You won't help matters by losing control."

Kira was too far gone to listen, the desolation and sorrow she'd been suppressing spilling out as her voice took on the echo of her primus. "You will keep your word."

"I have given you a lot of leeway in consideration of the extenuating circumstances." Harlow rose from his chair to face Kira. "Perhaps that was a mistake and you need to be forcefully taught your place."

Kira bared razor sharp teeth. He could try.

Harlow beckoned her with a flick of his fingers. That bubble of anger expanding in her chest burst. The last thread of her rationality snapped as Kira launched herself forward. Liara let out a cry of denial as Kira closed the distance between her and Harlow.

Her claws stretched for Harlow's neck.

A force struck her. The room spun as Kira was picked up and slammed down on the table. Her head cracked against it hard enough that she blacked out for a second. Before she could recover, her hands and feet were bound.

"I apologize for my niece's behavior. It seems she's feeling out of sorts. Perhaps others were right that allowing her to embark on the adva ka was precipitous on my part."

Pain made it difficult to think as the room swam in and out of focus.

"I think some time under house arrest will do my niece good."

It was the last thing Kira heard as her eyes slid closed and she lost her battle with consciousness.





Three





Kira woke to a splitting headache and the low murmur of voices around her, along with the rhythmic scrape of metal sliding against something. She opened her eyes to a familiar gray ceiling, blinking up at it as she reoriented herself to the situation.

"Looks like she's coming out of it."

"Did you have to hit me so hard?" Kira asked with a groan.

Harlow paused to examine the knife he held. "You said to make it look good."

"Maybe not that good."

She could have done with a little less force. There were still twinges of pain as she shifted to push herself up onto her elbows.

A pair of hands caught her, the person they belonged to peering down at her with concern.

"Easy," Quillon warned, guiding her to lie back down on the bed. "You're not fully healed. Let my soul's breath finish its work."

Kira didn't resist the healer's fussing. "You're being overly cautious. I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You have a concussion," Quillon informed her with a censorious look. "A fact I find concerning given the frequency with which you collect head injuries and the state you were in a few days ago. I believe I warned you of the dangers of pushing yourself too hard."

Kira grimaced. Now that he said it, she did have a vague memory of him cautioning her on several things. Most of which her primus, and thus her, hadn't paid much attention to.

"Your recklessness will cost you one day. My skills aren't infallible. You risk permanent damage if you continue like this."

Kira settled deeper into the bed. "It's not that I don't understand what you're saying."

It would go against Quillon's healer instinct to allow her out and about considering the state she was in not that long ago. It must be infuriating to have a patient who refused to pay attention to his advice.

Especially one who was still in the early stages of recovering from ki poisoning.

It wasn't that Kira didn't want to listen. She couldn't.

As someone who walked the warrior's path in addition to the healer's, Quillon had to understand that sometimes circumstances didn't allow you to pay attention to what your body was telling you. In moments like these, you had to push forward, regardless of the danger or the possibility of permanent injury.

Time was of the essence. Kira couldn't afford to go easy on herself. Every second she lay here, Jin and Elena sunk deeper into danger.

That was unacceptable.

Quillon's face held frustration. "Talk some sense into her."

Harlow remained focus on the knife and block of wood he was whittling. "She's not going to listen."

Quillon shook his head as he stomped toward the door, muttering under his breath about stubborn idiots.

Kira felt sympathy for the healer as she watched him go. She'd done it. She'd finally driven Quillon mad.