Soulbound

  She shook her head as we crossed the cobblestone of the courtyard. “Don’t ask him, Kaya. If you ask him to teach you how to fight, he’ll go to the headmaster. It’s Protocol whenever someone tries to engage in rule breaking. Let alone conspiracy. Trayton will inform the headmaster and you’ll be punished, maybe even assigned a new Guard. I’m telling you—it’s a bad idea.”

  “He wouldn’t do that.” Even as I spoke the words, I didn’t know them to be true. What Maddox was saying was very possible. After all, there was a reason that the headmaster viewed Trayton as his golden boy. But as much as the idea frightened me, angered me, I had to take my chances, and trust that Trayton would keep my confidence. “I’m asking him, Maddox. If I don’t ask him, I’m saying that I don’t trust him. And I do.”

  “I’m still asking Darius.” She glanced my way. “Just in case.”

  I followed Maddox across the cobblestone of the courtyard toward Darius’s cottage. Just as I was about to ask where the armory was—it hadn’t been part of my initial tour of the campus or my wanderings up until now—she led me around to the back of the building and gestured to a plank wood door with large rusted metal hinges. Balling up her fist, Maddox pounded on the wood twice, eliciting Trayton’s response from inside. “Enter and be known.”

  Maddox wordlessly tugged open the door and gestured for me to go inside. Everything about her posture, the look on her face, everything, said that she was absolutely convinced that I was making a huge mistake. I was only hoping she was wrong.

  The room beyond the well-worn door had a dirt floor and walls made of the same plank wood as the door, lined with several hundred wooden-peg racks, which were completely filled with hundreds of sheathed katana swords. At the far end of the room, sitting perched atop a wooden stool, oiling a blade, was Trayton. He looked up as we entered, and though I thought I spied some of that uncertainty from earlier in his gaze, his smile blossomed and erased all signs of doubt. “I was just preparing this for storage. You’re timing couldn’t be better.”

  He flicked his eyes to Maddox, and it seemed a question was poised on his tongue, but Maddox beat him to the punch. “Remember when I said you’d owe me for that little alone time stunt at the library, Trayton? Well, you’re about to pay up. I need you to keep an eye on Kaya for me for a while. I have an errand to run, and she can’t come with me.”

  Trayton looked surprised, but nodded happily. “Of course.”

  Maddox paused at the door, as if doubt were creeping its way into her thoughts. She was about to leave my Barron and me completely alone together. Was she making the right decision? It was like I could read her thoughts scribbled out across her forehead.

  Her wordless pause proved fruitless, and Maddox moved back out the door, closing it behind her. Trayton and I were left to fend for ourselves. Alone.

  “So…why do you want to learn about katanas?” His voice was hushed, almost gruff sounding in the small room.

  The oil lamps around the room cast a low, warm light, giving an even more intimate feeling to the moment, and I stepped closer, my eyes on the sword in his hand, yes, but more on his hands themselves. His skin was smooth, tan, and supple, and though I knew why I was here—to convince him to teach me how to fight—all I wanted to do at the moment was run my fingertips along the back of his hand. Resisting the urge, just for the moment, I said, “I’m curious. There’s no crime in that, right?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “No. No harm at all.”

  Slipping the blade into the leather sheath, he stood and held the katana out in front of him, chest height, between us. “Your parents are Barrons, so I won’t bore you with the details of sword care. I’m betting you know about oiling a blade and storing them properly. But what else did they teach you, I wonder?”

  Shrugging, my eyes fell to the katana, an anxious feeling fluttering in my chest. It was an invitation, although a subtle one. Maybe asking Trayton to train me would be the smartest decision I could make. Maybe Maddox was wrong. “Surprisingly little. I can oil a blade, even hold a katana correctly, but I was never taught the specifics. I never learned the parts of a katana, and certainly never learned how to wield a blade in proper battle form. My father sparred with me, but I think it was more to amuse himself than to teach me how to fight.”

  For a moment, I thought that maybe hearing this would change Trayton’s mind completely about our evening together, but instead, he breathed his next words, and hearing his tone sent a hot shiver through my core. “Then let’s start with the basics, shall we?”

  “The sheath that a katana is stored in is referred to as a saya. It serves two purposes. One, to protect the blade from damage. And two, to protect the flesh from injury. The blade…” He withdrew the sword from its sheath again, slowly. The metal gleamed in the low light. As he continued his description, his voice quieted, as if in respect for the weapon in his hands. “…is incredibly sharp. The metal is forged from the black sands of Kaito, where it’s believed that Graplars originate from. Because of that, this metal can slice through the beasts with ease—both soft tissue and bone—unlike any other metal on Tril. A katana created at Starlight Academy can easily be deadly to anyone, including the one who wields it, so it must be treated with immense respect.”

  Going back and forth through my mind about the most delicate way possible to ask him to hand me the sword, I met his eyes. “May I?”

  It took him a moment to answer, but when he did, he smiled slightly. “Please.”

  I wrapped my fingers around the handle, taking the katana from him. It felt surprisingly light in my grip.

  “Your hands are too close to one another.” He moved behind me, sliding my hands into the proper position. His breath was hot on my neck, and I was acutely aware of how close he was standing to me. “Your dominant hand should be placed directly under the guard, while your other hand should be placed low on the pommel. Grip it, but don’t squeeze it. The weapon should act as an extension of you, part of you.”

  It was hard to focus on why I had come here, and not focus on Trayton’s nearness. His arms were still around me, his hands over mine. Ever so slowly, he slid his hands back, giving me full control over the weapon.

  Ready to seize my opportunity, I said, “How do I attack properly?”

  “The katana is a slicing weapon, not a stabbing weapon. If you were moving to attack, you’d place your feet shoulder-width apart…” Gently, he nudged my feet apart with his. His lips brushed my ear softly, his words but a whisper. “…twist your wrists slightly…”

  His hands returned to mine, guiding them in a slow slash. Goose bumps had risen on my skin, and the sensation of his breath wasn’t helping to settle them any. “…and follow through, snapping at the end.”

  We brought the blade down together, and I marveled at the way the steps molded into one fluid act. Of course I’d seen it in action, but even sparring with my father hadn’t shown me the intricate details that went into a simple cut. “It’s like a dance.”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what it’s like.” He took the katana from me and I turned slowly to face him, so close that we were almost touching, and I was very nearly enveloped by him.

  He moved in and I knew that he was about to kiss me. But I couldn’t let him. Not yet. Not before I’d done what I’d come here to do. Placing my hand on his chest—I could feel his heart racing within—I stopped him and said, “Will you train me to fight, Trayton?”

  A hard line formed on his brow. It was indicative of betrayal, and anger. Hastily, he stepped back, sheathing the sword once again. “Kaya, you know I can’t train you. No one can. It’s against Protocol.”

  “Fak Protocol!” I threw my arms up in frustration. I hated that word and it haunted my every move. “I have a right to defend myself, Trayton. How can you expect me to stand on the sidelines and wait for someone to rescue me?”

  His eyes snapped to mine. “Don’t you trust me to save you? That’s my job, Kaya, my duty. And one I hold as the high
est importance. How can you go against eons of tradition without even giving a thought to the honor of your position as a Healer?”

  My heart sank. That was it, then. Maddox was right. I shouldn’t have asked him to train me. What was I thinking? Had Trayton given any indication at all that he was a rule bender? No. But stubborn stupidity had pushed me forward, and now he was going to report my request to the headmaster. Who knew what that would mean for my parents’ well-being?

  He shook his head, placing the katana on one of the racks on the wall. There were hundreds of swords. So many I couldn’t have counted them all in the time it would take Trayton to shove me out the door. “I knew showing you anything about katanas was a bad idea. You’re too curious, Kaya. That’s dangerous.”

  A dark cloud settled over my mood. If my curiosity, if my burning need for knowledge was dangerous, then what did that make me exactly? Before he had the chance to label me any further, I turned on my heel and headed straight for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To find Maddox.” I gripped the door handle and was about to pull it open, when Trayton’s hand pushed the door closed again.

  When I looked at him, his eyes were a mixture of emotions. On one hand, he seemed intensely upset with me. On the other, he looked concerned. Against my will, my eyes dropped until they were focusing on his smooth, slender lips. By the time they found his eyes again, he’d stepped back and gestured to the door, tearing his gaze away from me.

  Yanking open the door, I stepped out into the night and let the wood slam behind me. At first, Maddox was nowhere to be found, but then she came walking around the corner of the building, a pleased smile on her face. As she spoke, the corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. “Good news, Princess. Wait, why do you look so flushed?”

  Turning east, I led the way around the building and back toward the dorms. “Trust me. It’s not because of the reasons you’re thinking. We didn’t even kiss. I’m mad at him.”

  “He said no to training you, eh? Told ya so.” She hurried to catch up, careful to keep her voice low. Even so, it felt like sound carried exceptionally well at night. I kept a watchful eye out for anyone who might be listening, but saw no one. “Trayton’s not exactly a rebel, Kaya. I mean, come on, the guy actually respects the headmaster. What did you expect?”

  “Not now, Maddox.” The last thing I needed to be reminded of was my failure at recognizing the obvious. “So what’s the good news, anyway?”

  “You have a teacher. Training begins tomorrow morning. Before the dew falls.”

  Minor relief flooded me. At least I had a teacher now. If Trayton didn’t follow Protocol and report me, that is. I raised an eyebrow as we crossed the cobblestone. “Why so early?”

  Shrugging, Maddox said, “Darius doesn’t want to take any chances of being found out. We’ll meet him here, you’ll suit up, and he’ll take you outside the wall to a small training area that no one uses anymore.”

  My steps slowed. Mostly due to lingering fear of what lurked outside that wall. “Outside the wall? What about Graplars?”

  “I don’t know. Graplars are pretty much nocturnal, so you shouldn’t have much to worry about.” We neared the building and she opened the door, ushering me inside. It must have been getting dangerously close to curfew.

  “But isn’t it still dark before the dew falls?” My voice squeaked slightly.

  But my guard didn’t stick around to hear it. She was already halfway up the stairs, on her way to my room.

  “Maddox?” I whispered harshly, demanding an answer—an answer she was refusing to give. “Maddox, isn’t it still dark that early?”

  She opened my door, shaking her head and rolling her eyes, like I was complaining about the most minute details. “Don’t worry so much. You’ll have Darius with you. You’ll be fine. Probably.”

  I could have strangled her. “Probably?”

  The sound of footfalls on the stairs behind me filled my ears, and I turned my head toward them. Trayton, barely breathing heavy at all, shot a look at Maddox, who was standing half inside my room, half in the hall. “A moment, please.”

  Rolling her eyes again, Maddox disappeared inside, leaving us alone in the hall. What did he want with me? To tell me he was reporting my actions? To remind me that I was just a lowly Healer? To tell me that he wished that he’d been Bound to anyone but me, maybe someone who respected the rules the way that he did? I didn’t want to hear it.

  His words came soft and caring—not at all what I’d expected. “I only said no because I care deeply about you, Kaya. I just want you to be safe and protected at all costs. I want to protect you, and if you start protecting yourself, what does that mean for me?”

  “It means that you trust me to take care of myself.”

  “That’s not all it means. It means that I have no purpose in your life.” His eyes, so dark, shimmered. He was hurting, torn between what he’d been taught was right and his Healer’s request. He wanted no more than to please me, but couldn’t do that without breaking the rules that he so desperately needed to uphold.

  I shook my head, sorry that he was torn. But not at all sorry for wanting to develop fighting skills. “Trayton, you’ll always have purpose in my life.”

  “If we lived in another time, in another place, for what it’s worth, I would teach you everything that I know about how to survive.” His shoulders slumped in defeat. “But we don’t. We’re bound to certain rules, like them or not. And without rules, our society would crumble.”

  “I understand, Trayton. I do. But don’t you ever question whether the Zettai Council actually knows what they’re talking about when they devise these rules? How do they know better than you or me? Who put them in charge of every little detail? Will we ever get the chance to govern our own lives?” With a heavy heart, I turned to my door, more than ready to call it a night.

  Gently, but firmly, Trayton grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back to him. “Can you forgive me for not indulging you?”

  I shook my head. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

  Then he leaned in and kissed me, his lips so soft and tender, his fingers trembling on my arm. I surrendered to the sweetness of his kiss, allowing myself a moment to just be a girl, and my heart soared.

  C H A P T E R

  Sixteen

  If you’ll turn to page fifty-one in your Protocol handbook, you’ll see some examples of what we’ve been discussing today in class.” By “discussing,” of course, Mr. Groff was referring to the things he’d been barking at us that were generally accepted as social norms. Like the fact that when Barrons were socializing in a group, it was expected that their Healers would not join the group unless all Barrons were in agreement that it was an appropriate moment for their interaction. My head was starting to throb due to the subject matter. He stood at the front of the class, his muscles tensed, as if he were on high alert. I’d realized three classes ago that this was simply his way of standing, his way of being. The idea exhausted me completely.

  Flipping through the handbook, I came upon a list of certain social cues that Healers were supposed to be aware of. I shook my head in aggravation, and when Trayton raised a questioning eyebrow in my direction, I threw my hands up some, hoping he would understand just why I was so annoyed. But Trayton wasn’t the only one to notice my irritation. Mr. Groff snapped his head in my direction. “Kaya, do you have a problem with today’s lesson?”

  What amazed me, what truly surprised me, was that it seemed as though no one but me had a problem with what was being taught. I glanced around the class, looking for support, but found none, just a few uncomfortable wriggles. When I turned my head back to Mr. Groff, I inhaled slowly in an attempt to stay calm. “I have an enormous problem sharing the viewpoint that Healers are subservient to Barrons, yes. We’re people, after all, not cattle.”

  Silence followed my words, but it wasn’t the usual silence of a classroom. It was heavy, and far more oppressive. I was convinced that Mr. Groff
was at most going to rip my eyes out of my skull, and at least was going to give me extra duties for the rest of my life. I didn’t regret sharing my views, but I knew that I’d pay for doing so. Whatever. It was worth it. After all, if you can’t be true to yourself, what else have you got? So I sat back in my chair, watching him, waiting for his head to implode.

  Only it didn’t.

  He looked me over, his stern gaze piercing my calm facade, and when he spoke, it was with a strange sense of appreciation. “Perhaps you don’t yet fully appreciate the delicate function of Protocol. But I suspect you soon will. Now…if you will all turn to page fifty-six, we can continue today’s lesson.”

  As students all around me flipped pages at our teacher’s command, I felt my irritation give way to anger. “Actually, Mr. Groff, I do appreciate the history and reasons for Protocol. I just don’t understand the need for current application.”

  Mr. Groff breathed in deeply through his nose, causing his nostrils to flare. “Over time, society has developed a need for order. Protocol helps us to maintain that order.”

  He turned away from me then, as if dismissing my next words, but I insisted on being heard. I raised my voice, just a little, just enough to make certain they’d reach his ears effectively. “I think people are capable of maintaining order without a strict set of rules. I think you underestimate them.”

  Turning back, he smirked at my challenge. “Then clearly you’ve not seen what happens when rules don’t exist to support people. Chaos. Complete and total chaos.”

  I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table in front of me, the one that Trayton and I shared. “And exactly how much chaos have you witnessed from here in your cozy classroom?”

  Trayton tensed beside me. The rest of the class drew a collective gasp, as if I’d bounded into forbidden territory, which is precisely where I wanted to be.

  Slowly, Mr. Groff approached my table and leaned on it with his palms. He leaned close to me, so close that I could count the pores on the tip of his nose, and growled, “You will find your loyalty to this cause, Miss Oshiro, if I have to beat it into your skull.”