Free Syndicate's Pawns by Davila LeBlanc

sense of loyalty toward and that was Sopherim. She had always protected him from bigger, stronger foes who could not be bested with intellect alone. The fact remained that both Sopherim and Domiant were the youngest of twelve, the runts of Ynarra’s brood as it were. Probably because of this, both Sopherim and Domiant had always been close, from their earliest days. Domiant could not imagine being out here without her. Not that Sopherim would have allowed him to leave Uldur alone without her, even if ordered to do so.
    â€œNo you don’t.” Sopherim sat herself down cross-­legged and leaned forward, stretching her back until her forehead touched the ground. “Not that I mind, brother. I am here to keep you alive, not to educate you.”
    Domiant took a sip from his tea; it had grown lukewarm now, yet still kept all of its strong flavor. “What would you do without me, sis?”
    Sopherim did not look up from her stretch. “Enjoy more moments of contemplative silence.”
    â€œDon’t tell me the royal siblings are having a disagreement,” Mikali called as she stepped into their chambers without waiting to be invited. Domiant looked to her; there was something about Mikali that made him think that she might lose her balance at any given moment. He noticed a blackened spot of pulsing veins at her elbow, which Mikali made no effort to conceal.
    Living Green spare us, did she use Frost while copiloting the bloody ship!?
    The vapors of Soma Divinorum, when secretly prepared and administered by the Elvrids, were rumored to grant the gift of clarity and farsight. The by-­product of crudely processed Soma Divinorum was the highly addictive narcotic commonly known as Frost. While Domiant had never once done it, he knew that Frost gave the user a sense of intense relaxation and numbness. It was incredibly cheap to produce, highly addictive and had a low death rate—­an intentional design, as repeat clientele was the best kind.
    Domiant had remembered reading a recent medical article released by the Alexandran Scholics in which a study had revealed that Frost, when injected, would burn out the veins in the surrounding area. The effects were similar on the lungs when inhaled. However Frost itself did not kill, rather, it greatly shortened the user’s lifespan—­often by decades.
    Which begged the question to Domiant, if Mikali had been a regular Frost user, how much of her potential life had she thrown away? “You are interrupting a conversation, Mikali, and nothing more.”
    â€œWhich does not make her intrusion any less unwelcome,” Sopherim added in Wolven.
    Mikali scratched the back of her head. “Just because I don’t speak your language doesn’t mean I can’t recognize an insult.”
    Domiant sighed, and the morning had been starting so nicely. “What is it, Mikali?”
    â€œWe reached our destination, little prince. Figured you two would like to know that.” Mikali gave Sopherim a look, and Domiant now noticed that Mikali’s right hand was always close to the butt of her blaster pistol, holstered at her side. “Loc gets to keep his toes, I suppose?”
    â€œYou figured correctly, Mikali.” Domiant got up out of his bed and stretched before slipping on a fine warm cloak woven in long black feathers over his shoulders. “Let us observe our prey.”
    T he cockpit of the Althena was a cramped place barely capable of holding more than four ­people. Seated in the pilot’s chair, his hands cuffed to the seat with long enough strands of chain that he could reach all the dials on the board in front of him, but no further, Jerkol Loc was nervously observing the unknown gas giant they had approached.
    Loc nearly popped out of his seat when Domiant and Mikali stepped into the cockpit next to him. “Sir, we ah, we made it.”
    Domiant gave Loc’s back a rude pat. “My sister was saddened not to