Humid, hot, salty air filled Jade’s nostrils and bathed her exposed skin, plastering her short hair against her cheek. She had regained consciousness to the familiar sound of dripping water and immediately felt Maarlo’s presence looming nearby. A loose tunic covered her, and for that small favor, she was grateful.

For days—or weeks, Jade couldn’t know—she had slipped in and out of a hallucinatory state that was drug-induced. Every time she woke long enough to gather her bearings, her kidnapper injected her with a mind-altering substance that scrambled her brain until she thought she heard colors and tasted sounds.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “I know you are awake.” A hard shove to her side followed his words when she didn’t comply.

Before he could hit her again, Jade obeyed. The sight before her confirmed what she already knew. They had finally arrived at their destination, and she was in her cell at the Academy, on Celestia. The grated window that opened on the narrower side of the small room let in the last rays of Coral. Lowering her tunic to cover her thighs, she pushed herself up from her cot and, ignoring Maarlo, walked the few steps to the stone-carved basin. The faucet had been leaking for years, but she never asked for it to be repaired because the sound soothed her. After an intense sparring session, she would lie on her bed, listening to the drops hitting the stone until her mind became a blank canvas.

With her hands cupped, she leaned and drank a few gulps of fresh water to wash the grime in her mouth.

“What now?” she asked when she was done, deigning to finally look at Maarlo.

He leaned against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. “You cooperate.” Maarlo’s cold eyes pierced her. The man could terrify her with a single glance because there was no humanity left in him.

As she had done many times in the past, she faked a calm she didn’t feel. “Or?”

With a bored expression, he said, “You’ll sleep through the rest of your pregnancy.”

Jade turned and forced herself not to touch her belly that felt rounder and heavier than it had before her kidnapping. Instinctively, her hands had shot downward, but she redirected them to the faucet and splashed her face, as if that had been her intention all along.

“Break’s over.” Maarlo grabbed her elbow, applying enough strength to hurt her but not to break bones.

“Where to?” Jade asked, her voice firm as sharp pain shot up her arm.

“You’ll know soon enough.” Maarlo dragged her outside into the dormitory’s hallway and led her toward the infirmary, where he pushed her into the white room. “Whatever you’re plotting to do, don’t,” he warned, releasing her into the hands of a tall medicus. “Rasmud, she’s all yours.”

“You’ll be good, yes?” The medicus waved a syringe in front of her.

His strong accent betrayed him as a Lupinian, while his olive complexion now unnaturally pale indicated that he had spent time in space. Jade assumed he had been hired as soon as the Academy learned of her state. The voyage from Lupine took approximately two months, the same amount of time a light freighter would take to travel from the Outer Belts to Celestia.

“How was the flight?” Jade asked, relaxing both her expression and her stance to appear non-threatening.

It worked because the medicus gave Maarlo a reassuring nod. “I can take it from here.”

“Don’t think so.” Maarlo erupted in a loud laughter. “You have no idea what she’s capable of.”

“Thank you.” Jade brought her hand to her chest and tilted her head, batting her lashes.

Giving Jade a better look, the medicus seemed to reevaluate the situation for a moment, then nodded at Maarlo. “You stay.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere.” Maarlo strolled to the opposite corner where he took possession of a metal chair and straddled it, leaning his arms on its back. “Please, continue.”

Rasmud warily approached Jade, but she raised her hands in a sign of peace. She knew better than to antagonize Maarlo before she had a clear plan sketched in her head. Under the vigilant gaze of the assassin, the medicus subjected Jade to a thorough physical before drawing numerous vials of blood. Two long hours passed before the man announced that he was done for the day.

Maarlo escorted her back to her cell and left her there.

Alone, tired, and famished, Jade sank on her haunches and leaned against the door. Food arrived a short while later, brought by Marika, a new recruit and one of the pupils in Jade’s javelin class.

“Your dinner,” the girl said, smashing the tray on the small desk nested under the window.

Jade engaged in a staring contest with her subordinate, but Marika refused to look down. Instead, the girl’s expression showed resentment, her body language defiant as she turned and left. Jade remembered the look of awe in the recruit’s eyes the morning Marika had entered her class and discovered that a Master Assassin would be teaching her.

“Traitors should be hanged,” the girl murmured to someone outside before slamming the door shut behind her.

“Do not question the Academy’s wisdom,” a man answered. His voice held a mature timbre, but Jade couldn’t recognize the elder who spoke. She didn’t have to guess for long because the door opened again a moment later.

Her mouth dropped at the sight of the man entering her cell. “Master Eon,” she said, standing straight before the Academy’s most venerable member, the Head Master himself.

Tall and sinewy, the older assassin rarely left his quarters and would only talk to the Academy’s disciples at communal gatherings. As far as she could remember, the Head Master never engaged in one-on-ones. Only once, when she earned her final tattoo around her eye, Master Eon publicly mentioned her name during an assembly to congratulate her.

The man exuded raw strength with his controlled movements, and his unwavering gaze trained on her as he stepped inside.

“Assassin,” Master Eon said, making her flinch.

With one single word, he had just divested Jade of her status, wiping away a lifetime of dedication to the Academy as if all the blood and sweat counted for nothing.

It pained her deeply.

It stripped Jade of her identity. She was nothing outside of the Academy.

On the tail of her last thought, the image of a child filled her mind’s eye, unbidden. Past-Jade had found a different path in life and thrown her in the midst of this mess without warning.

“Did your last target father your unborn child?” Master Eon asked, startling her.

For the second time, Jade stared at the man, shock rendering her mute. Briefly before Maarlo derailed her life, she had thought about Dragon Sol being the father of her child, but there hadn’t been any time to delve into it. Hearing the words out loud felt like a punch to her stomach.

“Answer my question, assassin.” The Venerable’s voice rumbled low in the room. “Is the man whose life you spared the father of your child?”

“I don’t know,” Jade said a moment later. She knew, though. Now that she thought about it, there was no other explanation for her pregnancy.

“Vivaldi said you requested an erasion.” Master Eon was playing with her, testing her loyalty.

Maarlo had certainly extracted all the truth from the medicus, and there was little she could add. Depending on what Vivaldi had confessed under duress, there was the possibility that the man in front of Jade knew more about her than she did.

“I did,” she answered.

“Why?”

Jade maintained her straight stance, but inside, she was trembling. “I don’t know.”

“You are lucky,” Master Eon said. “Under any other circumstance, you would be facing the torturers in the square. But we have already been contacted by a buyer for your hybrid spawn.”

The man’s statement struck Jade like a sledgehammer to the chest, stopping her heart. She stepped back, hitting the wall behind her. Had she blinked, she would have missed Master Eon’s satisfied smile.

“I expect you to report to me if any of your memories come back.” He gave her one last stare before turning. Over his shoulder, he threw, “You will spend the rest of your life breeding for the Academy.”