She set the stone on the table. She still had questions, but after Elodie had gone to so much trouble, she didn’t feel right about asking the healer to leave again.
She’d have to wait until next time.
“How about I see you out?” Quillon offered. He stepped aside and gestured for the door.
Kira stepped toward it then hesitated. “Thank you, Elodie. You were very helpful.”
Elodie’s head lifted, her expression momentarily surprised before pleasure washed through her expression.
Kira dipped her chin before heading out of the room, Quillon keeping pace beside her as Finn trailed them.
They walked for several minutes in silence before Quillon spoke. “I sense there was more you wanted to ask, but that you wanted privacy for it.”
Kira slid him a hard look. “How observant of you.”
His lips lifted the barest bit in a faint smile. “I have my moments.”
They walked several more feet before Kira lifted the wrist with the inhibitor. “This is supposed to block my ki, yet I was able to create a small shield. Why?”
If something was wrong with her treatments, she needed to know—even if it was bad news. Especially if it was bad news.
If her gamble of coming here didn’t work, she’d need to make other arrangements. Put into motion plans that would see that Jin and others were taken care of if her disease ran its course.
Quillon’s head tilted. “You misunderstand the inhibitor's purpose. Yes, it is to block your ki to give you a chance to heal, but as your channels strengthen, so will your access to your soul’s breath.”
Kira stopped and faced him. “What does that mean?”
Patience filled Quillon’s expression. “It means you’re healing. The ki poisoning is slowly reversing. The stronger your channels get, the more of the soul’s breath you will be able to access.”
Kira’s breath stuttered in her chest, a desperate hope fluttering through her.
“You still have a long way to go, but this is a positive step,” Quillon explained.
Kira started moving again, her thoughts churning. As welcome as Quillon’s words were, it didn’t change the fact that the inhibitor was a glaring weakness.
“I need to know how to get it off in the case of an emergency.”
Quillon blinked at her. “Absolutely not. You’ll undo all the progress you’ve made.”
Kira scowled at him. “Progress that will be meaningless if I die first.”
This time it was Quillon who stopped. “If you’d known how to remove the inhibitor when facing Devon, you would have, and you’d be in the same state you’d arrived in, only worse. I won’t help you commit suicide.”
Kira struggled with patience, knowing the oshota healer was doing what he felt was best for his patient.
His face softened. “You found a way to win even without your ki. You wouldn’t have if you’d been able to take the easy way out.”
“Next time, I might not get the chance,” Kira pointed out.
The universe was a dangerous place. Being on Ta Sa’Riel didn’t change that. If anything, it probably placed her in more danger because she was unfamiliar with the culture and customs. Who knew when she would trespass against someone she shouldn’t have?
Quillon raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “There’s an easy solution to that.”
Kira raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“Don’t go running headlong into danger.”
Kira’s frown was dark as he straightened with a small smile.
He tilted his head toward Finn. “That’s what your oshota is for. It would be best to leave the heroics to him. For now, anyway.”
Finn snorted quietly but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to; it was clear he didn’t hold much hope of that happening.
Yeah, Kira didn’t either.
FOURTEEN
Hands clasped over her stomach, Kira watched clouds pregnant with rain drift over the spot she'd chosen for her afternoon nap. Hard shingles weren't the most comfortable of beds, but the smell of salt and ocean and the chance to be outside made up for the discomfort.
The steady drone of young Tuann learning what it meant to be Roake kept Kira company.
It had been several days since the incident with the primus. Quillon had been serious about her taking it easy.
He'd put his foot down, forbidding her from any physical activity. Surprisingly, Wren had agreed, making it clear that if he caught wind of her not following the oshota healer’s orders she could pack her bags and go.
Her time as an initiate would be done. Her path to the uhva na closed—perhaps permanently.
Finn's near-constant presence made testing the ultimatum impossible. Since the incident, he'd been more overprotective than ever. To the point she wasn't sure he was even sleeping. More than once, she'd opened her door in the middle of the night to find him standing in front of it, practically daring her to try to sneak past.
She might have taken him up on the unvoiced challenge if she hadn’t also agreed with Quillon's restrictions. Her body needed rest. The wise thing to do was to let it.
It wouldn't be long now before she could resume training anyway. Her mind might still expect to see wounds when she looked at her arms and torso, but all evidence of her standoff with the drones had healed. The welts fading as strength flooded into her muscles.
"I finally caught you Ms. Shammer Mcshammerson of the Summerset Shammertons," Blue called.
Kira looked up, finding the woman leaning out of a window from one of the towers overlooking her napping spot.
Blue didn't wait for Kira to reply, disappearing only to reappear moments later as she backed carefully out of the window. She descended the ten feet to the roof before picking her way over to where Kira rested.
"I've never heard that version," Kira observed as Blue collapsed beside her, spreading her arms and legs out in an impression of an oversized starfish.
"Made it up myself," Blue admitted, her eyes closed as she smiled up at the sky. "Thought it had a certain cachet."
It was certainly creative.
Kira didn't think she'd ever heard such an official title attributed to the time-honored tradition of soldiers going out of their way to avoid work.
Shammer. Skater. Sandbagger. Kira had heard many in the course of her time in the military. Sometimes the names were said with derision, other times envy. You couldn't help but admire some of the more creative ways people chose to evade work.
"I see you haven't managed to lose your shadow yet," Blue said, cracking an eyelid and glancing to where Finn scanned the area for threats.
"Despite my best efforts."
Blue propped herself up on her elbows, looking around with interest. "How did you manage to land such a sweet gig while the rest of us are being run ragged?"
One side of Kira's mouth tilted up lazily. "You too can have this. All you need to do is go a thousand rounds with about a million drones."
Blue grimaced. "No, thanks."
Kira snickered, not blaming Blue. Kira would rather have bowed out too.
"Training is that rough?" Kira asked.
Blue groaned, flopping to the shingle. "I don't know who is worse. Wren or Maida. They're relentless."