Appreciation glittered in Harlow's eyes as he touched his injured side. "Now that your focus has returned, perhaps we can get serious, Little Storm."
Graydon chuckled as he settled into an offensive stance, weight evenly distributed, his arms loose and relaxed. "It's you whose focus is lacking, old man."
Harlow didn't respond, the tip of his blade lowering.
Graydon's legs tensed, his front foot sliding the slightest bit in preparation for his attack.
They burst into movement at the same time, charging each other. Graydon's name ripped through the hall in a scream. As one, Graydon and Harlow shifted to meet this new threat, blades coming up.
The oshota placed themselves between the two inside the room and the screamer.
"Graydon!" a familiar voice shouted.
Joule barreled into the Warrior's Hall. His gaze frantic as he searched. Spotting Graydon, he ran toward him, only to find his way blocked by oshota.
He pushed forward anyway, resisting when they tried to force him back.
Graydon straightened, noting the panic and determination on Joule's face even as he tangled with warriors who had centuries of experience on him.
Ice spread through Graydon. There was only one reason he could think of for Joule to behave in such a manner.
Kira.
"Let him through," Graydon barked.
The oshota hesitated until Harlow gestured for them to relax their guard.
They shifted aside, allowing the barest gap for Joule to pass. He stumbled toward Graydon; his clothing disheveled. There was blood on the knee of his pants, and his sleeve was ripped. He’d been in a fight.
Graydon had been right. Something was wrong.
Joule stammered, his words not making sense.
"Enough," Graydon ordered. "Calm yourself."
He waited as Joule took a deep breath. The boy was nearly shaking, his chest heaving from exertion. Now that he was closer, Graydon saw the sweat on his forehead and the terror in his eyes.
Whatever had sent him here, he'd used every bit of his speed to get to Graydon as quickly as possible.
When Joule's breathing had steadied, Graydon set a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder, knowing it would steady him. "Good, now give us your report."
Some of the terror leached out of Joule, and he straightened, his expression reflecting a determination and strength that would one day make him a fine leader.
"It's Kira. She's in the Trial of the Broken," Joule said.
Harlow frowned. "She should have hours yet before her time comes."
"She's not alone," Joule said. His composure cracked, grief and shame warring as he met Graydon's eyes. "Wren sent me to tell you they're after Devon."
The mood in the room plummeted, growing heavy and tense as Harlow and Graydon traded a look.
"What of Kira?" Graydon asked.
Joule flinched. "She went after them."
Graydon should have expected as much.
"She's not alone," Harlow said at his back. "Wren is at her side."
"He was injured. I don't even know if he's still alive." Joule's face crumpled, reminding Graydon for all that the boy possessed maturity far beyond his years, he was still a boy.
"And you left her there?" Harlow asked, a dangerous rumble in his voice.
"Ease up," Graydon warned as ki built, saturating the room.
"You're a long way from being able to tell me what to do in my own House, Little Storm."
Graydon faced his former mentor, not in the mood for threats. Kira was in danger; he didn't have time for this.
Joule surged forward. "It's our fault. She wouldn't have come here if she hadn't saved Ziva and me. She'd be safe. They would never have gotten close if they hadn't threatened me."
His action stemmed the rising tension, reminding them there were several lives at stake. Finger-pointing and blame could wait until afterward.
Harlow inclined his head. It was the best apology Graydon was going to get.
There was respect on the faces of the oshota around them. Joule's actions had cemented his place among them. They would not soon forget his loyalty to a daughter of their House.
"Who was it?" Harlow asked.
"Aeron." Joule seemed almost hesitant as he added. "And Loudon."
There were small sounds of dismay from those around them. It turned to grief and acceptance as Graydon stood.
"It looks like you've finally uncovered the traitor of your House," he told Harlow.
The Overlord's face was frozen as grief and rage battled for supremacy. The emotions flickered and guttered, extinguished as they left nothing but an implacable determination behind.
Graydon rose. "Stay with Veer."
Joule lurched, his expression earnest. "I can go with you. I can fight."
Despite his intentions, the boy looked on the verge of collapse. Escaping the trial before it was finished would have likely sapped all his reserves.
"You can barely stand," Harlow said. "You've done enough. It's our turn."
Dejection settled on Joule's face, a naked vulnerability that Graydon couldn't walk away from. He picked up Joule's arm, turning it so the boy could see.
There, carved in blue and silver lines, was the mark of the broken, proof Joule had passed his trial. The boy probably hadn't even felt the emblem rise to the surface in the fury of everything that had happened.
"Congratulations," Graydon said.
Joule gazed down in shock. "I don't understand."
"There are more ways to fight than with en-blade or ki," Graydon said. "You recognized that. The trial has rewarded you."
Joule traced the lines of the emblem with reverence.
"Watch over him," Graydon ordered Veer. Harlow’s oshota gave him sharp nods of respect. To Solal, he said, "Find the human male. I have a feeling we're going to need him."
Harlow considered Graydon. "Why?"
"A hunch."
Harlow dipped his chin, well used to Graydon’s hunches. He strode toward the courtyard and the cliffside exit, saying over his shoulder, "There is no time for the long way. Let's take the short cut."
*
Painful howls, the type one might make if their soul was being ripped from their body, greeted them as they stepped into the trial.
"Mea'Ave guide us," Indya whispered.
The screams held an agony so deep it broke the person you were before, leaving behind a pale shell.
It'd been a long time since Graydon had heard screams like that. Not since the Sorrowing when so many had lost so much.
Graydon doubled his speed, careful to stay quiet. Alerting the enemy to their arrival would destroy the advantage of surprise.
While dropping down the cliffs and then using the undersea entrance had cut a lot of time off their journey, it wasn't enough. Every second counted.
Graydon and Harlow's oshota moved quietly with them. Their passage nearly silent as they headed for the sounds of agony.
The uhva na sped their way, almost as if it sensed their urgency. The trial was known to test even the Overlord on his rare visits. The rooms constantly changed as the place tried to lure Harlow into staying. That’s what it was meant for.
Today, those little gut checks were absent, and the trial allowed them to pass with an unheard-of ease.