Free Gentle Chains (The Eleyi Saga Book 1) by Nazarea Andrews

day before in the holostim has vanished. I’m fumbling and
slow and have yet to actually hit him with my weapon. It makes me angry, and I
shove his practice sword away. Lash out with my hook. He pins it with one foot
and pushes the other on my throat, just enough pressure that I’m paying
attention.
    “You aren’t trying,” he says, and anger shivers through his voice. “You
do realize what Argot means when he says that the training determines your
place, don’t you?”
    I shake my head, trying to keep from throwing up. “What?”
    “The worst trainees are fodder. Slaves who are put in the arena to die,”
he says flatly and my eyes widen. “And quite often, their mentors are sent with
them. I don’t much care what happens to you, but I’m not dying in the arena
because you are sore.”
    “Does it occur to you that maybe I need to build up my strength before
you beat me to death with a wooden stick?” I snap and he swings out, delivering
a ringing blow to the side of my head. My head spins, and I dry heave as the
pain wins, doubling me over. Through it all, his psyche never flickers.
    “Watch yourself, Eleyi. You’re a slave, and this attitude won’t be
accepted by the Ja, Prator, or Primus at the jakta. I’m barely tolerating it,
and I have an unusual threshold for bullshit.”
    I shake my head, trying to shake the ringing in my ears, but I have to
sink to my knees. Tears gather in my eyes and I blink them back, furious. I
want to go home.
    I struggle to my feet, reaching for the wall to steady myself. He
watches me, his gaze assessing as I lift my sword. Kristoff sighs. “Let’s go
for a run. Tomorrow we leave for Pente and there isn’t much to do on the ship.
The least we can do is start your conditioning now.”

 
    Later, I lie awake long after Kristoff slips into sleep. My body is
screaming in pain, every muscle stiff and tight, and the floor makes it
impossible to get comfortable. My head throbs from his blow this afternoon. But
what bothers me most is not the ache of my body or head—it’s the utter solitude
in which I find myself. All the Eleyi around me are locked off, minds hidden behind
mental walls I don’t have the energy to breach.
    I wonder if it will always be like this: long days that leave me aching,
and longer nights filled with nothing. Tears sting my eyes and I shake my
head—no. I can’t live like that. I’ll die first.

 

 
 
 
    Chapter 10
    Juhan’tr

 
 
    SPACE IS LIKE A cold blanket, wrapping me in a cocoon of ice and
emptiness. It’s different here than it was on the slave ship—there are no
psyches pushing at me. It is the curious quiet in my mind that makes me acutely
aware of how alone we are. The only thing I hear is Sadi and Tin talking,
quiet, hushed, excited.
    She bought it—my quiet acceptance of her insane plan. She didn’t even
think to question my motives. I’m almost embarrassed for her—that kind of blind
trust is dangerously naïve.  
    It took very little effort on my part to convince Sadi to help me look
for Chosi. She offered to have Tinex hack the slaver queen’s records, find out
who bought my sister. It will take time, time that we will use to seduce the
cybertulres—tabloid news feeds that people adore—and through them the people of
the Interplanetary Alliance. It’s all broad strokes of a plan that is risky and
ludicrous.
    Frankly, I don’t care. It’s merely something to distract me while I wait
for information.
      “Juhan?” Tinex says, a slight intrusion
that shakes me from my thoughts and brings me back to the ship. He’s extends a
small stack of clothing. “We’re approaching Ariede.”
    I take the clothes, glance at them questioningly. They’re nice—but then,
if we’re going to Ariede, the seat of the IPS, that is to be expected.
    “You need a shower. And fresh clothes—you reek of the slave houses.” He
says the words without inflection, but they sting. I can’t meet his eyes as I
take the clothes and he