Unknotted

Scoffing, Chet waved off his comment. “They aren’t going to kill you.”

Tydeus twisted around in his seat, his dark and light eyes settling on me. “I won’t allow it.”

The drive to camp wasn’t long. Before I ever managed to doze off and Tydeus had only made it halfway through the files the enchantress had given us, we arrived. Immediately I could tell the ultras were in the camp. Keadanian soldiers stepped lightly. Displease our ultras and the very ground could betray us, opening up and swallowing us whole. I half expected that to happen as I climbed from the vehicle and approached the command tent. Soldiers, dutifully cleaning their weapons or tending to their armor, watched from the corner of their eyes. I couldn’t blame them. I looked a sight with my face, uneven gait, and mangled arm. That and a foreboding hung around me like a cloak. They all would know of my failure by now.

Metallia burst from the command tent, face drawn into a snarl. She wore full armor with the helmet drawn back. Her hair was pulled into a severe bun at the base of her head, her eyes lit with a fiery challenge.

Tydeus, the file on Topaz in hand, took the lead. Chet and I walked at his flanks. We strode up the gauntlet of soldiers watching with rapt anticipation.

“Ultra Metallia,” Tydeus began.

Her eyes zeroed past him to me. Core between, she would go for my face again. Her opened palm cracked across my cheek. I staggered. She struck again, dropping me to a knee. My dominance shot to the fore, urging me to retaliate. That had never happened before, not with my ultras. I had always been entirely submissive to them.

Tydeus slid his feet wider. A low growl, barely audible in our close proximity, rose.

Undeterred, she landed a third blow that wrapped around the back of my head to my cheek and drove me onto my belly. My dominance roared at the injustice of an ultra attacking while I was belly down and submissive. Yet, Topaz had escaped me a third time and someone had to be blamed. Chet hadn’t been there and daring to challenge Tydeus would have been too risky. He lost control of his dominance more often than I did—usually—and he was favored by his soldiers. Metallia had to be careful or risk enticing him to extend a challenge for the ultra position. It only made sense I would carry the punishment for our failures.

Face in the dirt, I heard a sharp smack, skin against skin, but no pain accompanied it. I peered up to find Chet holding Metallia’s wrist poised in mid swing.

“He’s submitting to your punishment,” Chet spoke so low that I had to strain to hear. “I suggest you accept his submission. Otherwise, you look like a bully. And no one likes a bully, Metallia. Now hit me so all of our onlookers will know you’re the one still in charge here.”

A tense moment stretched between them. Metallia ended it by crashing her fist into Chet’s cheekbone. It didn’t appear to be a particularly hard punch, but Chet dropped to a knee, hands hitting the dirt.

His eyes fell on me, his face concealed from the onlookers by its angle. My brows drew together in question, and Chet winked. Despite my pain, I smirked, or at least tried to. My face was too swollen to move it much.

“Bring him inside.” Metallia spun back toward the tent and vanished inside.

I struggled to my hands and knees. My head was throbbing and spinning. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the beatings to the head would leave me with a concussion. Hands hooked under my arms. Chet and Tydeus hauled me to my feet, but I didn’t have much strength in my legs, and they had to carry me into the tent.

It took my eyes longer than usual to adjust to the dimness. Inside, maps still covered the table, the portable television was off, and Ultra Glark sat behind the table. Upon seeing me pathetically dragged in, he jumped to his feet and rounded the table. “What happened?”

As Glark crouched and gently took my chin in his hand, Metallia paced behind, breathing hard. “He failed. That’s what. Now we have no idea where that terrorist is or even if another territory has her. The enchantress could be handing over the Tide Reverser as we speak. Explain to me how your precious, most favorite warrior has managed to lose this woman three times. Three!”

“In his defense,” Chet said, dark humor coloring his tone, “the first time he didn’t know he was supposed to catch her.”

Metallia snarled. “Watch your tone. You aren’t innocent here either. Why you sent him”—she glared at me in disgust—“instead of handling this yourself is beyond me.”

It didn’t matter that I had run hundreds of successful missions, many of which I planned and carried out on my own. It didn’t matter how good of a soldier I was or how much I submitted to her authority. I was the only one Glark had ever treated like the child she had never given him. For that alone, she hated me.

A sheen covered Glark’s eyes. When I had first met my ultra, I wouldn’t have believed him capable of tears. He had been a hard man. Cold and distant and solely focused on fulfilling the prophecy. I could only guess at what had changed. As the years of war continued, Glark grew softer, while his pragmora seemed to absorb all his hardness. She had become crueler until compassion of any sort was beyond her reach.

Chet rolled his shoulders back. “There’s nothing Rokan did that I wouldn’t have done differently. Had I been there, the results would have been the same.”

That was Chet. Always trying to deflect some of Metallia’s ire to protect me. It had worked for a time, but she had figured out his ploy.

Her nostrils flared. “You will find this terrorist and bring her to me. No more mistakes.” Her eyes fell on me like a javelin, painful and piercing.

(Chapter concludes in part 3)