The Capital had once been a place of grandiose elegance and exquisite architecture. Resting alongside the ocean waters that separated my beloved swamp kingdom of Pentaba from the mountainous, snow-blanketed kingdom of Montemba was the Merchant’s Boardwalk where vendors sold their wares and threw friendly jibes to one another. Hundreds of docks rose up to the gold-wood promenade, and opposite of the docks were hundreds of booths swathed in bright, multi-colored fabrics for shade beneath the midday sun. The boardwalk extended for nearly a mile from the furthest end before opening up to a natural plaza, at the north of which was a short staircase met by a pair of towering black gates. Walls taller than most houses extended outward on either side of the gates and curved in perfect arcs before disappearing behind themselves to surround the Capital in its entirety. Upon entrance, one was greeted with the sight of the Elder palace, a regal castle of towers and atria and black okiluk stone that shone in the daylight. It was a sight magnificent enough to distract the looker from the beauty of the shops and homes that surrounded it in asymmetrical perfection.

Elegance painted the Capital no longer. The walls were covered in sharply-pointed spikes to deter climbers. The gates were laden with blinking sentience detectors and automatic weapon dischargers. Armed guards patrolled the cobbled roads in groups of four rather than individually, and a new wall had been constructed around the palace for additional security. Doors once left open to welcome passersby for a social call were now kept soundly shut. Most shops were closed completely to the public, while a select few erected posts ordering customers to knock if they wished to be granted entrance. Even the Merchant’s Boardwalk, usually bustling with Pentabans, was desolate. My home had become its own prison.

Though my eye was critical, the humans accompanying me seemed quite taken with their surroundings. They stared with wide eyes and mouths ajar, gaping at the sheer height of the palace and ogling the shuttered houses we passed. Without many civilians populating the roads, their voices carried, but I ignored them and allowed their murmured exclamations.

The Novai who had attacked the women was slung over my shoulder, where he had been since we disembarked the boat I borrowed from one of my warriors. He was quite a bit heavier than his lanky appearance projected and I was beginning to feel a burning sensation in my neck where he pressured the tendon. I refused to show my struggle, however, and merely resituated him to the other shoulder with a grunt before coming to a halt at the base of the palace stairs.

“You will remain behind me,” I told them abruptly, interrupting their exchange. “You will not speak unless spoken to, and you will answer all questions with respect.”

They nodded their agreement, but I gazed at them for an additional second to impress upon them the importance of my words. I looked a little longer at the curvier of the two, the female at whom the Novai had lunged. In the breaking dawn, her feminine features were more evident and ethereal. Apple cheeks accentuated an otherwise heart-shaped face that trailed downward into a pointed chin. Her nose was sleek, diminutive and utterly straight from root to tip. A small mouth adorned with defined lips parted as gently sloping eyes of smoky gray rested unblinkingly on mine. She was as captivating a sight as the Capital in its renaissance, but I had no time for captivation. I had a dead Novain colonist over my shoulder and two deaths on my hands.

Xam and Qula were in the entrance hall when I crossed the threshold. My first victim of the tumultuous night was spread across a vast table, face-up. Under the light of the metal chandelier dangling overhead, the blood on the Novai’s tunic was visible, a dark stain spread in an uneven circle across his chest. Sevani was leaning over the corpse to analyze the wound, but he straightened up when my footsteps echoed in the three-story foyer. He eyed the figure on my shoulder.

“You have had quite the interesting night, Khrel,” he said in A’li-uud. He surveyed the humans behind me briefly before turning back to me. “There will be many questions.”

“Yes, Wise One,” I murmured apologetically.

“There was a second attack?”

“Yes, Wise One,” I repeated. “This one assaulted the human”—I gestured to the mud-covered woman—“once on my watch and once before I arrived.”

Sevani’s expression darkened, his silvery hair falling in strands over his hooded eyes. He folded his hands before him, and the long sleeves on his sweeping turquoise robes met at the cuffs to create one uniform tube. “They will be required to make a statement before the Council,” he said gravely. “As will you.”

I inclined my head, and he turned back to the first body. Xam was watching him closely, as if attempting to read his mind. I could see anxiety rolling beneath my warrior’s fierce features, and I hoped his unwavering allegiance to me would not urge him to speak out of turn. Qula tugged a second table from its place against the far wall, the feet scraping against the okiluk floor, and leveled it with the first. I rounded to it, allowing the body to slip from my shoulder to the surface. Sevani waited for Qula to situate the corpse into a basic resting position, and then proceeded to analyze the wounds as he had the other.

“Was the other human attacked?” he asked calmly, bending so low over the Novai that his nose nearly brushed its knee.

“Not to my knowledge. She appeared only to be a witness.”

He looked up. “Take the dark-haired human to the drawing room,” he said to Xam. “I will collect a statement from her shortly. You will show her home after.”

“Do you think it wise to send her back to her shanty?” I interjected before Xam could move. It was uncharacteristic of me to question my Elder, and certainly out of place to interrupt him, but I feared he was making a great oversight under the stress of the disturbing circumstances. “She may be a target for Novai seeking vengeance.”

“Her statement will be taken anonymously,” Sevani replied without concern. “It is the other who will need protecting.”

I glanced at the woman with the smoky eyes. Her face was streaked with dirt, her honey hair caked with mud, and remnants of the crying behavior humans were prone to in distress lined her cheeks, but she stared back at me with straight shoulders and resolute stoicism. I found myself impressed by her fortitude.

“And what of this one?” I inquired of my Elder, still speaking A’li-uud despite looking at the human.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Sevani answered, “I am assigning her to your care.”

I snapped my head around to him so quickly my neck cracked, but I ignored the sudden snap of pain. “Wise One?”

“She is to be under your constant surveillance,” he continued. “You are to keep her safe at all costs. She will stay with you in your home until the Council deems it safe for her to return to the colony.” When he noted the expression on my face, he amended, “Or you may stay here with her, if you prefer.”

“No, I—” It seemed the events of the night were finally catching up to me. I heard the orders from Sevani, but I was unable to properly process them. I shook my head in defeat. “My home will suffice, but would it not be advisable to station some of the warriors at the shanty instead and confine both humans to their home?”

“Khrel,” Sevani said quietly, stepping toward me. His eyes bore into mine with an intensity I had never seen from him before. “It is crucial that this woman remains of sound mind and body to deliver her testimony. We cannot risk any acts of retaliation against her that may compromise her desire or ability to recount her version of events.” He lowered his voice further and took another step nearer. “You know I was against the Novai settlement before the Council even approved it, just as you were. Your claim of violence is a solid argument against the continued colonization of Novai on Albaterra, but a victim’s tale of attack against an unarmed and defenseless human is irrefutable. We must protect her, and there is too much we do not yet know about the Novai to simply confine her to her shanty. Her best defense is you.”

I wanted to look at her, to gauge the emotions on her face despite her inability to understand our conversation, but I resisted. Even as I inclined my head in respectful agreement to Sevani, however, I could feel smoky eyes on the back of my head.