“It’s a simple technology, and yet, it allows an Elite the freedom to live among the regular populace. This is but a prototype,” he continued, addressing the High Priestess directly. “It does not contain pure Glaith ore, but an alloy. As you can imagine, we’ve had to be frugal with what little we could procure. But for the first time in our lengthy, blood-soaked history, an Elite can focus his power. Channel it toward anything of his choosing without the risk of certain death. No longer are we caged beasts, doomed from birth to die with the screams of our enemies chasing us into the Void.” Slipping the manacle off his wrist, he tossed it into the center of the table, letting it spin a lazy circle.
“From my understanding,” the High Priestess said, “you’ve had your Elites relying upon the Glaith for several generations already. This is nothing new.”
“Quite right you are,” the general returned, stepping closer. “We’ve become dependent on the stuff. But this?” he said, pointing toward the manacle gleaming between two countries, “This simple bracelet represents a monumental leap forward in Glaith technology. What we lack, is the one thing we need to live free. Glaith ore is as precious as it is rare—”
“And Tritan is your closest neighbor with mining rights,” she finished, crossing her arms, releasing me in her fit of temper. “And what, Goddess willing, do we get in return for giving you the Glaith?”
“Protection, of course!” the general said, spreading his arms to encompass the Elites all around him.
Ki licked the back of my neck, drawing a splintered gasp from my throat while obsidian eyes twinkled. The smug prick. If only I could wipe the smile from his lips…
“With our alloy, andourtechnology, your Priestesses will experience an ease they’ve never known before. They will no longer have cause to fear, and neither will theybefeared by their fellow citizens. Why”—the general turned to the curator, placing a massive hand on the royal sibling’s shoulder—“our very own Lord Curator has designed the next generation of these simple gauntlets using our Glaith alloy. This is what we offer you. A permanent solution against the ravages of our birthright. Priestess and Elite, both.”
“Permanent?” the High Priestess breathed, standing, fingers splayed on the table before her. “You seek to bind the Glaith to your own people?”
“Now, Your Grace,” the prime minister began.
But she ignored him, icy glare fixed to the general’s face. “Such action would enslave your people, andmine.” She laughed, low and unamused. “And who will hold their tether, I wonder?”
“Madam, I insist you control yourself!” the prime minister hissed. “There is no call to be rude, especially in a situation that does not concern—”
The High Priestess slapped both hands on the table, thunderclouds building behind her light eyes. “Does not concern me? You seek an alliance with a nation who would enslavemyPriestesses, sir. Everything to do with this disappointment is my business.”
Free to turn my attention elsewhere, my eyes went to the one place theyshouldn’t.
“Do I need to remind you that temple and Senate are not ruled by the same governing body in this country?”
A shocked expletive burst from the prime minister’s lips. “Howdareyou.”
I stepped toward that inky stare, reaching again for a ring brimming with impossible ki. Tuning out everything but the urge to chew the smug clear off his lips.
Tilting his jaw toward me, the captain laced his fingers atop the table. Showing off his skill without touching my pendant, even as he tugged me closer. Flooding the bridge built for two… blurring the lines…
“Go ahead,” the High Priestess snapped, taking three massive steps to block my path. “Make your alliance with these warmongers. It has no bearing on me or mine. Butmygirls will not be enslaved by these Caledonian manacles—” she slipped her hand in mine, cramming her ki down my throat until my eyes glazed over, and I was too bloated on ethereal fumes to take another step. “No matter how pretty the package.”
“Enslave them? Oh, come now.” The general crossed thick arms over his chest, brows climbing toward his hairline as he leered. “Just like a woman to be so dramatic. We offer a viable solution to an age-old problem. We’ve all heard the myths of Priestesses going ki-mad, Your Grace. It’s not just an Elite problem, if the legends are to be believed.”
She whirled on him, fingers near to crushing mine. “My Priestesses don’t need the Glaith, General Tilcot. They spend their lives learning to control their Goddess-given power, and I will not see them succumb to something as despicablyweakas Glaith dependency.”
“Weak?” A vein in the general’s neck began to pulse, drawing my eye. “Your lot are nothing more than trumped up healers! We aresoldiers. Weakness? Bah!” His countenance savage, dark eyes glittering, the general continued to glare, forehead dewy. “Tell me, do I look weak, you foolish woman?”
“It’s High Priestess, to you, sir,” she returned. “And my girls have no need of a substance to control their power. They are strong without it.”
“And yet, you toil away in your labs beneath the temple,” the general said, swiping a bead of sweat from his eyes. “Experimenting with the Glaith. That’s rather hypocritical, don’t you think?”
With an eerie stillness, the High Priestess’ fury became mine, leeching into my blood. Replacing the manufactured calm with unquenchable flames. And as one, we turned to the prime minister. “You’ve already sold us out.”
“Now, Sasha, please,” the prime minister said, flashing his palms. “Let’s all take a breath and—”
“No. We’re done here. As for your offer,” she added, turning once more to the Caledonians, “allow me to counter. You may send any number of Elites to me for training, so they might know the true freedom of mastering the power they were born to wield. I will free you from your dependency on dirty Glaith alloy, no questions asked.”
The general threw back his head, and laughed. “The Elites are strongbecauseof the Glaith,High Priestess. You would deny them from experiencing their true potential? Is your ego really so—”
“That’s enough, General.” All eyes shifted to the curator. “We come to you with a generous offer to trade technology, and this is the treatment we receive? I have never been so thoroughly disrespected in all my years.” His lip curled, revealing strong, white teeth. “And by a woman, no less.”
The prime minster snapped his fingers, gesturing at a pair of young women to begin distributing refreshments. “My deepest apologies, Master Curator. You must understand it was never our intention to include the High Priestess in matters of State. Rest assured, she and I will be having words after this meeting has concluded. Nothing is more important to this Senate than organizing a fair trade agreement between our great nations.” He laughed, dabbing at the sweat soaking his hairline. “The things we could do by combining our resources are limitless.”
“Ah,” the High Priestess breathed, gliding to the back of my father’s chair. Placing her free hand on his shoulder, she continued, “And here lies the crux of the matter. What are you hoping to gain by selling off Tritan’s Glaith technology?”
