Chapter 24

My world became motion.

From waking up to finally bedding down, my life became a whirlwind of motion and activity. Between work, school, and my training, there seemed to be no real time for me to simply stop and catch my breath. On a typical day, I would attend classes, train with Khrasa, then head to the docks for work. At the end, I was more than ready for bed when I returned home.

On days when work and school conflicted, those nights were spent huddled over my tablet, working furiously through the downloaded lessons I'd missed. Nights like that were tough. The downloaded classes worked well enough, but they did very little for my social life. If only I didn't need the money...

My perseverance with my studies paid off though. It only took two attempts to challenge my grade and advance to my proper level. It was a mixed blessing, being in many of the same classes as my friends again. I say mixed, because while they could acknowledge my presence there, they couldn't interact with me as much as they used to. The first week after my challenge, I was confronted several times by many Clan and non-Clan folk alike, all of them remarking how much I looked like...well, like myself. Thankfully, Risha backed my new identity as Darien Kain with several emotional performances in front of the class. While she managed to ease the suspicions of the others, we all still kept our social interactions to a minimum.

Away from school though, things were vastly different. When Max and Risha returned from their vacation, they tackled me to the ground and hugged me hard enough to crack a rib or two. Risha cried so many tears into my shirt I had to change at least twice. She would finish for a bit, then the tears would start anew and I was tackled yet again. They told me how all my friends used to take turns keeping vigil over me during my coma. They read me stories, talked about their days, and when they could they even spent the night. In their defense, Max said no one wanted me to wake up alone. What did I ever do to deserve such loyal friends? To this day, I still don't know

When Max mentioned 'all of us,' I assumed that included Shiana and a few other Clansmen. I never asked about them though; there was little point. Doubtless they all knew about my exile, and all of them were now honor-bound to execute me should we ever meet. It hurt that my betrothal to Shiana was no more, but having spent the summer in Te'Ki's arms helped ease that pain immensely. I didn't feel too bad for Shiana; if the Winter Stalkers and the Tiger's Paw Clans still wanted a marriage, Richard was still available as far as I knew. Beyond that, I really didn't care.

I elected to continue my increased training regimen even after being allowed back to work. I couldn't really explain it, but of all my activities, stepping into that studio was becoming less something to look forward to, and more something I craved. Khrasa alternated his daily routines with me, switching between physical and mental exercises. On the mental days, I learned to center myself using meditation and other calming techniques. He said it was a delicate balance of brain and brawn that brought about the Shift in all L'au Tari. Because of his little moment of vanity with my training, I had a lot on the mental side to catch up on.

The centering exercises didn't take that long to start having an effect on me, and it was at the same time exhilarating and frightening. As I ran through my forms, I could feel my mind begin slipping into...something. It felt like an altered state of consciousness, as though a veil had been lifted from my senses. My hearing sharpened, my nose could detect the smallest change in the air. Even my whiskers felt like the center of a kind of sensory spider web. With closed eyes, my surroundings were clear and perfectly defined. In this state, I was convinced I could walk around blindfolded flawlessly.

That was the exhilarating part. The frightening part came when I stepped into the combat circle.

Nothing changed for my physically as I squared off against my opponents. My win/loss ratio was still around 50 percent, but the margin by which I lost was growing slimmer. My wins were decisive and, if Khrasa was to be believed, bloody. He often remarked that had my opponents been true flesh and blood, I would be covered in gore after my usual ten rounds. It was hard for him to keep his enthusiasm muted in his voice, but I began picking up on it. I took it on as a personal challenge to at some point make him break out of his veneer of serenity and make him either shout or cheer.

Perhaps it was morbid of me, wanting to impress him with greater displays of ferocity, but this altered state I began feeling also made me look at my opponents differently. To me, they seemed more...well...basic than a fighter. I watched how they moved, noting every step or mis-step. I watched their ears for the slightest flicker...their eyes to blink...their whiskers to twitch. Had they a scent, my nose would have detected any sign of fear or frustration. It felt primal...almost feral, this state. My opponents seemed less and less to me like adversaries or even a threat. They seemed beneath me, or at the very least someone daring to challenge my dominance.

In a word...they became more like...

Prey...

I remember.

I remember the day. Three months and five days after she left, he came.

The knock at the door was even. Not the timid knocking of someone who shouldn't be there, and not the frantic pounding of someone desperate or determined to confront me. No...by comparison the knock was courteous. As such I felt no real need to rush to the door and open it. I fully expected it to be Grandfather, come to check up on me after the previous night's rather horrendous snowstorm. I remember having a hard time falling asleep that night. The wind howled and the trees that normally sheltered the dwelling from most of the elements scraped endlessly against the roof and walls, making any notion of a peaceful sleep impossible. As I approached the door, I was filled with a growing dread at trying to carve out some kind of walkway from the door.

The moment I opened it though, all that dread vanished.

He was a cougar, about half a head taller than me and lean as befits one of his lineage. His muzzle bore a calm, neutral expression, though his eyes resembled those of someone who'd traveled a long way in life. His stance seemed relaxed; whatever his intent, it wasn't for violence.

"You," he said, his voice low and calm. "You are Dalan?"

"Who wants to know?" I countered, my ears beginning to lower. If this packla was some Clan-hired blade, I'd make sure that if I fell, I'd take a good-sized chunk of him with me.

In response, he simply held his hand up in a gesture of submission, then I watched as his eyes began to glow a ghostly white. I lowered my guard. I knew he hadn't come to fight; I most likely would have been dead the moment I opened the door if he had.

"Who are you?" I asked. I motioned for him to come inside but he shook his head.

"I come with a message," he replied, his voice growing somber. He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small drawstring pouch. I took it and examined it. There was nothing overly remarkable about the pouch. The leather was well worn, and the stitching seemed too random to be done by machine. This pouch was hand-made.

Gently I pulled it open and emptied its contents into my hand. At first it seemed to be nothing more than a collection of white and dark beads and what looked like teeth. They were all bound together by what looked like a thin strip of leather. I realized then that it was a necklace of some sort. I picked it up and used my fingers to spread it out. Like the pouch, it appeared to be hand-made. It was primitive-looking...almost...tribal...

"You...you're from Tanaya," I said finally. The cougar nodded. "And this?" I asked, holding up the necklace.

"It is...from Te'Ka'Na," he said slowly.

"Te'Ka'Na...you mean...Te'Ki?" I asked. He nodded again and I felt my heart swell. "A gift?"

"No," he said after a moment. "It is...it was...hers." I cocked my head slightly. I could feel a change in the air...a sudden wave of foreboding washing over us both so hard that it felt like my whiskers were being buffeted.

"Was?" The swelling I'd felt only moments before turned to a pounding in my chest. "What do you..."

"She...she is no more," the cougar said with a bowed head.

Time stopped. My ears heard his words, and my whiskers knew they were true, but my brain just refused to process what he just said. It was strange, in a way. In the movies or on a show, when someone learns of a loved one's death there was always an immediate reaction. The tears immediately begin to flow, or they scream/roar out to the Patrons, demanding to know why someone they loved had been so cruelly taken away. The person usually crumbles into a quivering heap as the background score builds up to a tragic crescendo of loss.

Reality was far different.

I remember the numbness that came first, followed by the wash of goose pimples underneath my fur. I can't remember when any kind of sensation returned to my body, but when it did I remember clearly how cold the air felt. My heart...even with the augments designed to keep it from over-stressing it still pounded mercilessly in my chest. All I heard over my ringing ears was the sound of the necklace hitting the floor.

"H...How?" I finally asked. I could feel myself begin to shake.

"Her father never said," the cougar replied. I could see the saddened look on his muzzle. "He...he sought me out, and asked that I deliver Te'Ka'Na's mark to you." He lowered his head. "For what it is worth, I am sorry. He said that she spoke of you often, and longed for the day you would come for her."

I glanced down at the necklace on the floor, then back up to the cougar. My mind began screaming out questions, but my mouth simply wouldn't work. What could I really ask though, that I didn't already know? What questions truly mattered? She...Te'Ki...was gone. The hows and whys of it in that moment were irrelevant. No single answer or explanation could bring her back, so why ask?

I barely felt his hand on my shoulder. He said nothing when I returned his gaze. He simply nodded and turned to go. Again, my mind tried to call out to him...to extend some kind of courtesy, but my body simply refused to act. I could only watch as he walked away. He gently closed the door; I heard the bolt click, followed by the faint sounds of his footsteps crunching through the snow.

How long had I stood there? I can't remember. Much of that time still escapes my memory to this day. I was only barely aware of the door opening again...of the chill on my fur as my Grandfather stepped inside. I remember being guided to the table...being posed to sit down like some life-sized action figure. I didn't register the blanket that was thrown over my shoulders, or the growing warmth from it. In fact, nothing truly came into focus until my gaze dropped to the table...to the necklace Grandfather placed there.

"Dalan," he said softly. "What happened?"

I looked up slowly at him. I must have looked like all seven Hells in one if his expression was any indication. "She...she's gone," I choked out. I nudged the necklace. Grandfather looked at it, then back at me. His jaw opened as what I said finally registered with him. It was strange, the moment that followed. Hearing it from the cougar was surreal, as though I was watching myself from a distance. My senses knew the truth but it still didn't feel...well...true. Seeing Grandfather's face transform from disbelief to that look of growing anguish...it seemed to make it all finally sink in.

I felt the tears begin to well up. My body began to shake almost violently. I could barely breathe. My heart started pounding again, and I could hear some kind of keening sound begin to fill the air. It wasn't until I felt Grandfather's arms around me that I realized the sound was coming from me. In that moment...that instant of physical contact...the dam burst. The shock from first hearing the news finally burned away, and it all came crashing down.

I screamed until my throat was shredded. I pounded on Grandfather's shoulder so hard I was convinced I broke something. Yet he still held me, gently rocking me as I wailed like a lost kitten. In my chest, I felt as though someone had reached in and torn out my heart, which only added to the screams. My lungs burned, as if they couldn't take in enough air to sustain me. I felt as I was being hollowed out, my entire being erupting from my mouth in the form of scream after strangled, pained stream.

I don't remember stopping. I don't remember the screaming ever ceasing. I don't even remember the darkness that finally and mercifully consumed me.

When I opened my eyes, I realized I was lying down. I was on my makeshift bed, tucked in like when I was a mere cub. The only thing missing was one of my stuffed toys from my old room. Despite the hollow feeling in my soul, I felt warm and undeservedly comfortable.

My nose could pick up the unmistakable aroma of brewing tea. The spicy, cinnamon scent was familiar to me. There was nothing special or significant about it; such a flavor was available anywhere. However, it was a favorite blend in the Kalamar household. On cold, winter nights, Grandmother would brew a large pot of it and we would all partake. Often, we would gather in the living room and either watch a movie, or listen to one of Grandfather's seemingly endless supply of stories. To me, no matter where I was, that aroma would always remind me of home...of better days.

"Welcome back, grandson."

My ears rotated to the voice, quickly followed by my head. I blinked several times until the form of my Grandfather kneeling beside me came into focus. "Here, let's get you up," he said, helping me into a sitting position. "Drink this," he said, handing me the cup. "Don't try to speak just yet. You tore your throat rather harshly. This should help."

I nodded and accepted the cup. My nose could smell the honey in the tea. I took a tentative sip and tried to swallow. That was a mistake; it felt like swallowing a glass full of razor blades. I coughed, tasted blood, and sighed. The ragged, phlegm-filled gurgle that escaped my throat unnerved me.

"You have been out for the better part of two days," Grandfather said. "Max, Risha, and Tomas have all been here, watching over you when I could not. I told them what happened as best I could." I nodded, taking another small sip of the tea. This time, I could taste a hint of something more than just the tea and the honey. "I placed some Tokia extract in the tea," he explained. "It should help your throat and keep your stomach settled. It's not too bitter, is it?" I shook my head. "Good. Regardless of what your Grandmother says, not all medicines have to taste like medicine." His wry smile was infectious, though I could only manage a weak, thin one in response.

He stayed with me until I'd drunk the last of the brewed medicine. By then my stomach was bloated and my throat was numb from the Tokia extract. When I patted myself, he chuckled. "You should rest," he said. "Your friends have explained your absence at school, and your landlord put in a call to the docks." I cocked my head in curiosity, but received only a smile and a wink from him in response. "I must go though, Dalan," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Will you be all right?" I nodded. "Good. Max and Risha should be here in a few hours to check up on you. Until then, try to get some rest." I nodded and patted his hand. I mouthed the words 'thank you' as he stood up and made for the door.

As the door closed, so did my eyes. With consciousness came the inevitable confrontation I was to have with the truth. I could feel the tears begin to well up once more, and I let them fall. I tried desperately to remember anything about her, but try as I might, I couldn't even recall what her voice sounded like. Even my memories of her angelic face seemed clouded over. The more I tried to remember, the fainter the memories seemed to become. I felt the need to growl, but the remembrance of the pain in my throat thankfully stopped that. I settled for a few deep breaths to try and calm down. It worked, but the memories of her still seemed to be fading. I could remember conversations with her, but instead of her voice, it was someone else's. Whose I couldn't say, but I knew it wasn't hers.

I opened my eyes and chanced a gaze around my dwelling. It was then that I realized just how barren the place seemed to be. No decorations on the walls, no real curtains on the windows, and the only floor coverings to speak of were the sila mats. How had I not noticed that before? Perhaps just her being here had been enough to remove the starkness of this place. With her gone, it was as though this dwelling ceased to be a real home. Was this how an exile was supposed to feel? Was this what these cursed dwellings were truly supposed to feel like? Had she...had she been such a light in my life that the true dreariness of this place paled before her?

The tears started anew, and I fought the urge to cry for fear of my throat. I'd been in motion since she left, and now that I was idle, I fully understood the reason why. She was the light of this place. She'd not only given this place a soul, but she'd given me the same. She was the reason I got up in the morning. She was why I worked as hard as I did. She was why I set my sights on something more than merely existing as some outcast. She was my life.

Now that she was gone...what did I have left?

Thoughts of my training came to the forefront of my mind. Even if I did become a L'au Tari, what would it land me in the end? Only a mercenary or some other violence-based occupation could truly take advantage of those skills. Was it even a goal worth working toward? Then again, I'd come far enough along that I was starting to see results from it all, so while it seemed pointless to continue, it also seemed pointless to stop. That, and there was something sadistically satisfying about standing over a defeated opponent, even if it was just a training hologram. Was that all I had though? Was I only living now for violence?

I thought then of my job at the docks. I'd spent so much time there playing the part of the hard worker. It wasn't really an act though; like the sparring, I got a feeling of pride and accomplishment on those days when Allister recognized me. There was potential there for a career if I kept at it...perhaps even a chance to work the spaceport side. All I had to do was keep doing what I was doing and Darien Kain could make a name for himself at the Karalla City Port Authority. Would that be so bad? Would it be enough?

My friends would always be there for me. They'd been there when I was in a coma, and apparently while I was out for the past two days. I felt safe in the knowledge that they would do whatever it took to keep me from falling too far into any kind of depression or other emotional funk. It was something for which I could never truly repay them, no matter how long I lived. For the short term, they could fill the void she left behind. What about the long term though? Could I even think that far ahead? Should I?

I silently cursed my situation. Being forced to sit here and actually think on it was doing nothing to help me resolve it. Then again, the constant motion I'd been in all those weeks prior were of no help either. It had been easy to not think about the coming weeks and months of solitude, knowing that Te'Ki would be waiting for me at the end. With her gone though, so was that goal. That life-line that connected me to the way out of this hellish double life had been severed, leaving me adrift in this chaos of indecision.

My mind traveled back to the first morning I woke up in this place. Bleeding, covered in bruises and offal, and barely able to move. That morning I also had no purpose...no goal to work toward. I could have just lain there, curled up in a ball until my life drained out of me, but I didn't. Instead I chose to rise up from that pitiful situation and walk forward in my life. I chose to live that day, and not to lay down and die. In the face of the chaos, on that day I squared my shoulders and met it with a growl of determination. How was this time any different?

Another wave of cold truth washed over me. Yes, on that day I was determined to live despite not having a purpose, but only a few days later I ended up with a goal: Protect Te'Ki. The entire summer revolved around me trying to keep her safe. That we fell in love was an unexpected but welcome side effect, but as I thought about it, I realized that as much as I wanted to protect her, I'd also wanted a purpose to my life. I needed a purpose to my life. Above work, above training, above survival itself, I needed something to work for...

Something to live for.

I closed my eyes again and sighed. The Tokia extract was taking its toll on me and I could feel myself begin to drift. I welcomed the darkness once more and let myself fall into a deep, mercifully dreamless sleep. There were still questions to answer and grief to deal with, but for now they could wait.

Just for a little bit longer...

I wasn't sure what pulled me back to consciousness first: The hushed voices that made my ears twitch, or the rhythmic purring I felt radiating throughout my body. I knew the latter wasn't coming from me, and that was when I realized there was something - or rather someone - laying beside me. Well, beside me was perhaps too light a term. No, this person was snuggled right up next to me, an arm over my chest and their muzzle buried in my neck. My eyes opened in slits and I beheld the black-furred arm in front of my vision. When I heard the contented sigh next to me, I froze.

Risha was the person laying...no...snuggling down with me.

Panic quickly washed away any earlier feelings of comfort or bliss. How long had she been here? Why was she in bed with me? Gods...what about Max? What would he think of this if he walked in and saw? I knew nothing had happened, or if it had I was far too gone to realize it. In either case, this situation had all the potential to be blown way out of proportion.

Slowly I tried to move her arm off my chest. She let out an almost childish mewl and tightened her grip on me. I suspected she was dreaming it was Max beside her, not me. I tried again, but she was having none of it. I felt her muzzle press into my neck right at its most sensitive point. When I felt the tender nip there, my resolve to extricate myself from this started fading. If she kept this up, I soon wouldn't care if Max found us in a compromising position.

"Risha," I whispered, still mindful of my damaged throat. "Risha...come on...wake up." I tried to shake her off, but damned if she didn't pull herself tighter to me and start moaning rather loudly. Despite her continuing to nuzzle at my neck, all I could think of was Max and what he would think. I knew they became a couple during their summer vacation, and to have that jeopardized by something like this was unthinkable. If only my throat wasn't so wrecked...I at least could have...

"Awww, isn't that cute?"

"Indeed."

I whipped my head around to the voices and beheld two people sitting at the table, watching me with rather confident smirks on their muzzles. The first speaker was Max, who looked like he was trying as hard as he could not to burst out laughing. The other was Grandfather, who was a bit more composed than my panther friend. I alternated glances between Risha and Max, trying to figure out just what in the Seven Hells was going on.

"We got here a couple of hours ago," Max explained. "You were tossing 'n' turning like crazy, so Risha did her best to calm you down." He looked over at his sleeping girlfriend. "Looks like she was more tired than I thought."

As if on cue, I felt Risha begin to stir beside me. I turned to look at her just as her eyes opened. Like I had, I expected her to suddenly realize the position she was in and move off me with all due haste. Instead, she merely yawned, squeezed me a bit tighter and then sighed. "Sleep well?" she asked sleepily. All I could do was nod in response. "Mmmm, good," she said. "You had me worried for a bit there, hun." I patted her arm and smiled. "You're welcome," she said.

After a few more minutes we both rose and headed for the table. Before I did though, I retrieved my tablet from my book bag. I would need it for the time being if I was to say anything. Grandfather placed a mug of tea in front of me. I brought it up and could smell the Tokia extract once more. I took a sip and then called up a blank text file on my tablet. I began typing, and a moment or two later turned it toward Grandfather:

** Won't you be missed? **

"If the Elder of the Tiger's Paw Clan chooses to take a walk on a calm winter's night, then who is anyone to challenge me?" he asked with a slightly triumphant smile. He then sighed and I saw him slump slightly. "In truth, the tension at home has been building. Your father seems determined to 'make things right' with the Clans, no matter what any of us try to tell him. By the gods, were I not so certain he could best me, I'd cuff him one but good."

I tapped some more on my tablet:

** Could disguise myself. Payback for sword. **

Max chuckled. "I don't think putting your dad in the hospital's gonna help anything, Dalan."

** Offer still stands. **

"Be that as it may," Grandfather said, "Dalan...I returned because I have some news." I cocked my head. "Your suspicions about the fate of the Ka'al P'ack are not yours alone."

My eyes widened. Max, Risha, and Tomas all knew of the theory Te'Ki and I had come up with. Like Grandfather, they were skeptical about it, but to hear that my theory was now shared by other Clansmen...I really wasn't sure what to make of it all.

"Not a single Clansman has gotten so much as a whiff of where it might be," Grandfather explained. "Even the black market isn't this discreet. Logic dictates that perhaps it is not lost at all, but purposely hidden for the time being."

** To what end? **

"If the Rondoki do indeed possess it," he began, "it would stand to reason that they would hoard it for now...a kind of punishment to our family for humiliating Lars at the Kumal."

"Sheesh, how petty can you get?" Max quipped. "Oh, you beat me in a fight, so I'm gonna make sure you never see your son again? Anyone else smell a bit of overkill here?"

** Vanity. Saving face. All about power. **

"Indeed. The Rondoki are a very traditional Clan, Maximilian." Risha and I smirked. Grandfather always used Max's full name, which irked my friend sometimes. "They believe that in preserving those traditions, they retain the power and influence they once possessed during the Time of the Warlords."

"But by losing to Dalan's father," Risha added, "that air of infallibility was taken away."

"That still don't track though," Max said. "If they have it but no one knows about it, then they're still tarnished according to everyone else."

"They didn't lose that much face among the Clans," Grandfather said. "The Council still holds Lars in high regard, and his list of allies has not diminished. For what they're putting my family through now, the stain upon their honor would be...an acceptable sacrifice." I both heard and felt the growl that emanated from him. I would have shared it were my throat still not torn to pieces. I grew up with stories of the cruelty of the Midnight Fang, but I never thought I would truly bear witness to it.

"At least you're still safe, Dalan," Max said after several minutes of silence. "I mean, your Grandfather knows you're all right, and maybe someday everyone else will know too. Even if they can't acknowledge it, at least it would put 'em at ease, right?"

"It's still not fair," Risha insisted, her voice venomous. "No statue or honor is worth this." She waved her hand around the room.

"No one is saying this is fair," Grandfather said. "This feud has been going on for centuries, Risha. The Kalamars have wanted an end to it since the Ascensions, but it appears the Rondoki will not rest until it comes to a decisive end."

A decisive end...a clear winner, and nothing more.

Was the Ka'al P'ack just the start for them? Was Tila the next to fall? How far would the Rondoki go in order to humiliate, destabilize, and eventually destroy us? Grandfather was a stubborn old cat, of that there was no doubt. However, there was only so much even his resolve could withstand before he too capitulated. Even if he chose to dissolve the Tiger's Paw Clan, would the Rondoki stop there? Would they seize Kalamar land, driving them out, or would they simply come and slaughter them all first?

What do I have to become?

Violence, Dalan.

Te'Ki's words echoed through my mind...and in her voice this time.

Violence...I had to become violence.

Sometimes, grandson, death is necessary.

Violence...death...necessary...

Was this the only way? Did my family's safety have to come at such a price?

There is a third option.

The third option. I let out a quiet sigh of resignation. He'd known, hadn't he? Of course he had; how could he not? His constant pushing me...his confession to a bit of vanity in my training...he knew. I only wondered now if he'd been preparing me for this revelation all this time, or if it was all some happy coincidence. In the end, I suppose it didn't really matter.

I felt my stomach begin to twist in knots as the magnitude of the truth settled in. Grandfather was right; the Rondoki would never stop unless...unless they were stopped first. They knew the power they held over the Clans, and every Clan knew that they knew. No...like in the Kumal, there could only be one victor in this feud.

One decisive victor.

** Only one way to stop this. **

Grandfather looked up from my tablet. "What do you mean, Dalan? You already said that going to the Council was out of the question."

** Not Council. Would get family killed if I did that. Running leaves all of you open to more attacks. Only one way to end this. **

I paused as a nauseous feeling welled up within. I took several deep breaths in an effort to calm it before I resumed typing. I remember how much my hand trembled as I tapped out the message:

** Go to Rondoki estate. Find Ka'al P'ack. Take it back no matter cost. **

Everyone's eyes widened when they read the message. I heard Risha gasp as she put a hand to her mouth. After that, the silence was almost stifling. Gazes alternated between the screen and me, as though no one could possibly believe it was my hand that had written that message.

Max was the first to break the silence. "Um, pardon me," he said, "But are you out of your freakin' mind, Dalan?"

"It's madness," Grandfather added. "Dalan, there is no way you'd survive that. Neither of the Najari Clans have been able to pierce that compound in decades. It's suicide."

I took the tablet back and tapped out another message:

** Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe not for a long time. Not ready yet. Must continue training as L'au Tari until ready. **

Grandfather made a motion to say something, but then he paused. Max wasn't so hesitant. "So what?" he asked. "So you wait a few years, get your black belt or whatever it is that makes you this...thing, then what? You march in there and get yourself killed, Dalan. You're still just one guy."

"Indeed," Grandfather said. "One guy who laid low a handful of Shatlia." Max turned his head as if to argue, but Grandfather held up his hand. "I'm not encouraging this, Maximilian, make no mistake. It is still an insane path, but from what I've seen, it is not entirely an impossible path."

"What are you talking about?" Risha asked, almost frantic. "You're condoning this? You're telling him that it's ok for him to...to..."

I reached out a hand and clasped her shoulder. Her gaze was filled with a mix of worry, anger, and shock. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. What I wanted to say couldn't be typed out on a mere tablet.

"Risha," I whispered, well aware of what this was going to do to my throat. "I didn't want this. No one did, but I have to do something or we all die. I have to protect my family."

"You mean the same family that turned its back on you...that left you to die in this gods-forsaken place? Why, Dalan? What do you owe them? What?" She stood up and made for the door. Max quickly followed and caught her just as she was about to leave. She fought him at first, but eventually settled for crying into his shoulder while he held her. I knew she would never agree with my decision, or even understand it, but in time she would accept it. I had no idea how it would affect our friendship in the future. I could only hope that something could be salvaged when this was all over.

"I've often asked the same question," Grandfather said after a few moments. "You owe us all nothing but contempt, Dalan...your father especially. Why risk your life for us?"

He was right: I really didn't owe my family anything except to maybe flip them off as a shuttle took me to the stars. Regardless, I was willing to put my own life on the line for them. Why?

I thought back to my first retreat. I remembered the fire and its lesson. In that lay the answer. I leaned in close to make sure he would hear me over Risha's muted sobs.

"Because," I whispered hoarsely. "After I save you, I'll need all of you...to save me."

I left it at that. In truth there really wasn't much more to say. Grandfather stared at me for several moments before slowly nodding in understanding. He knew what was coming, and he knew what the aftermath would be if I succeeded. If I failed, I would die and no doubt the Clan would eventually fall. Good as Grandfather was with words, those alone wouldn't save the Kalamars from the Midnight Fang's wrath.

But if I succeeded...if I emerged from their estate with the Ka'al P'ack in my hands...it would be a feat paid for in blood. That cold realization settled in the pit of my stomach with Grandfather's nod. He knew as well as I did that barring a miracle, the road to my honor would be paved in the bodies of the Midnight Fang. He also knew that if I managed it, like that fire from my retreat, my soul would need all the love and support it could get.

I glanced over at Max and Risha, still holding each other. I hoped that they too would be there when this was all over, and I hoped they would someday forgive me for what I was now committed to.

I was now on the path to honor...to redemption...to family. I would see this through or die trying...

And gods help anyone who dared to stand in my way.

THE BEGINNING