Kira shrugged, and half shook her head before nodding. "The title of unwilling guest works too."
There was a hint of fear in the captain's gaze as he glanced at Kira before his expression firmed.
"I don't care who the iffli she is," he spat.
Kira stiffened, the name tugging at memories she'd long since buried. The instructors in the camp used to call them that.
Her hands curled into fists as her emotions shut off, leaving her studying the captain the way she would a poisonous insect.
"House Dethos will not stand for this. I'll be speaking to our Overlord," the man was saying.
Hm. She'd heard that name before. It took only a second for it to come to her. The initiates who'd started the bar fight last night had belonged to House Dethos. Interesting to hear that name again here.
"You do that," Graydon rumbled, his voice deepening until it contained a dangerous bite to it. "I would be most interested to hear why a boat belonging to their House is fishing in sacred waters. These waters were declared off-limits."
"Except for Roake," the captain muttered defiantly.
Graydon's face was expressionless. "Yes, because they were appointed the custodians and protectors of everything that lies within. Your House is welcome to challenge them for their position at any time."
The captain's mouth snapped shut, his eyes flashing mutinously. "We're not currently in a position to win a challenge against Roake."
"Then perhaps you should not trespass in their waters or bemoan what you are too weak to secure," Graydon said with infinite patience.
Kira barely heard the words, her focus entirely on the captain. His gaze darted to her and away.
This wasn't her imagination. He was afraid of her. That, coupled with the use of that word, was enough to send her senses to high alert.
There was a whistling sound from behind them. The baby lu-ong wiggled further onto the ship, making those behind them stir uneasily.
Kira ignored them, giving herself space to think as she left Graydon's side and moved toward the lu-ong. She stopped in front of him. Taking a chance, she reached out, a small smile escaping her as he knocked his head against her fingers before rubbing his cheek along them while making a sound very like a purr.
Kira's heart stuttered, wonder unfurling in her chest as she set aside the captain momentarily. Seeing the baby under the water hadn't done him justice. He was beautiful and delicate, the suggestion of the mammoth creature he'd be one day there in his face. For now, he was adorable, his eyes multifaceted, his coloring not as pronounced as his mother's.
Impressions raced through her mind. A joyous warbling rising as he whistled and trilled a greeting at her.
He broke off abruptly as the world around them seemed to burn, the very air boiling and frothing.
A form dropped out of the sky, wrapped in darkness as stars trailed behind it. The Overlord of Roake landed heavily on the ship. Hellish fury and the promise of retribution raging from his eyes.
Kira caught sight of the survivor he was, the one who feared loss as much as she did. The one who would destroy his soul if it meant safeguarding those who he'd taken under his protection.
The emotions folded away as if they'd never been as he straightened, his expression containing a calm that almost made Kira think she had imagined what came before.
There was a minute tightening in his expression when he caught sight of Kira's state, the blood oozing from the cut on her head. The half-drowned look and the protective way Graydon hovered over her.
Harlow inhaled deeply, whatever emotions he felt disappearing as if they had never been.
"What is going on here?" he asked, his cool gaze traveling over them.
The captain opened his mouth on a lie Kira sensed even before it left his mouth.
"Iffli," she said, using the term the captain had called her. "Is this a common word among the Tuann?"
Her uncle regarded her carefully. "Not one I've heard used before."
"Graydon?" she asked.
Panic deepened in the captain's eyes.
"It is an old one, not often used in common speech because of its origins with our former masters," Graydon said slowly. He saw the captain's unease too.
Graydon snagged a sheet that had been sitting over some bulky cargo. Cages, identical to the one she'd freed the baby from, were stacked all along the wall of the boat.
Graydon sent a chiding smile at the captain. "And you said she was lying." To Harlow, he said, "This is seiki stone. The emperor decreed its use as forbidden."
The captain's eyes darted, the noose around his neck tightening. His crew tensed at the implications.
"This is alarming, indeed." Harlow's voice a silky rumble. "The hunting of lu-ong carries a death sentence."
"That's not what we were doing," the captain defended. "You're mistaking our intentions."
"Are we?" Kira asked.
Somehow, she didn't think so.
More importantly, the mother and child behind them didn't either. If the Overlord didn't do something about this, they would. Kira got the sense their form of justice would be much bloodier and involve teeth.
"What does it mean?" Kira heard herself ask. "That word?"
People lied about words not hurting. Sometimes words left painful wounds that were more difficult to heal than physical ones.
For Kira, that word was deeply rooted in the identity of those who'd once called themselves her master.
Graydon shifted as if reading her hunger for blood. The change was slight as he readied himself for battle. "Halfbreed."
Kira's smile was humorless. "I thought so. I’ve heard it before—in the camp where I spent my childhood."
Graydon’s and Harlow's attention snapped to the captain.
He snarled a curse.
Kira took a chance, dropping into the Tsavitee language. "Your skin is wearing thin, and your deceptions no longer fool the eyes, shapechanger."
She saw the moment when the captain's resolve faded. He shot a glance at one of his crew members, one who stood slightly apart from the rest. He looked as Tuann as any, if one ignored the eerily smooth skin or the placid detachment with which he observed the situation. Unlike the rest, there was no unease or fear at being faced with two powerful Tuann.
That utter lack was warning enough.
At the captain's mistake, the man's eyes finally filled with emotion. Greed and hunger fought for control. He sprang forward, the skin he hid behind tearing to reveal a Tsavitee shapechanger. Sexless and bald, claws outstretched as his mouth opened wide, he streaked across the deck toward Kira.
She barely had time to prepare, tensing to dodge.
She needn't have bothered.
An en-blade appeared, separating the skin walker's head from its shoulders as the marshal Kira had met her first day on the planet stepped into view, seemingly out of thin air. His gaze was serene as he slashed his blade through the air, slinging the blood from it in one smooth movement.
Nearly identical to the Overlord's, the marshal's armor gleamed in the sunlight. These weren't the ornate ceremonial pieces Liara had worn to greet her. These were meant for war. Plain. Simple. Utterly efficient. Without a hint to announce either man's rank or status.
"I suppose this merits a thank you," Kira told Makon.