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beneath his collar. Guardian Lawley merely continued to grin, making it plain he wasn’t swayed by Bion’s response—excuse, really.
    Bion turned and left the sanctum. Frustration was sitting heavily on his back, the lack of satisfaction from the hearing making him edgy. Grainger deserved death. The man was a bastard of the worst sort, one without remorse or compassion for those he had injured. The man hadn’t hesitated when he’d put a bullet through Sophia’s leg and Bion was certain he would happily continue his service to the Helikeians if freedom was his once more.
    Damned Helikeians. They were as old as the Illuminist Order and could trace their roots back to the ancient civilizations that had given them their foundation in knowledge. Long after the Greeks had been conquered, their devotion to science, logic, and learning was still being cultivated by the two Orders. The difference was, the Illuminists had long ago cast off prejudice. Membership was open to anyone willing to pledge themselves to the Order. That didn’t come without a cost, for society shunned anyone wearing an Illuminist pin on their person. But loyalty was the price expected to enter the world of the Illuminists.
    The Helikeians had split off centuries before, when they began to favor arrogance over tolerance and power over knowledge. Now, they dreamed of conquering the world and disposing of anyone they judged inferior, “purifying the bloodlines,” as they called it. They would stop at nothing to gain the upper hand over the Illuminists.
    Sophia was just a commodity in their eyes.
    Bion felt the sting of that fact like a new tattoo. She was too naive to understand, too much a product of her upbringing beyond the walls of the Illuminist world. It fell to him to ensure she did not fall into Helikeian hands. If she did, it would be his duty to neutralize her, by ending her life if that was the only means available to him.
    From the moment he’d been accepted as a junior cadet in the airship corps at the tender age of sixteen, his life had been dedicated to duty. Each year and rank along his path to Captain had only seen him facing deeper personal commitments. There was no reason training a Novice Navigator should test him so greatly. Or frustrate him like Sophia did.
    Yet another challenge of her society upbringing—an Illuminist woman didn’t have any difficulty embracing passion. If she hadn’t been raised by puritan Victorian society, he just might try his hand at kissing her. Becoming lovers would certainly be a better use for the sparks that flew between them.
    He bet she’d slap him again.
    But all that knowledge did was make him think about trying it.
    ***
    Asian fighting was something Sophia found fascinating. It was a technique from the Far East that the Illuminist Order offered classes in. As far back as she could recall, she’d been told how ladies should be sheltered by the men of the house. Only fallen women resorted to defending themselves. It was uncivilized and unladylike.
    Yet among the Illuminists, learning to defend yourself wasn’t frowned upon. In fact, all members were encouraged to learn some form of self-defense to strengthen the security of the Order.
    Bion’s idea of encouraging her had been to bluntly order her to begin taking classes.
    At least she didn’t resent this order. Her training included a form of kicking and punching that made pugilists look like fools. The men in the local pub punching one another in the face until one fell wouldn’t last a full minute with one of the masters of the Asian fighting arts. They used their bodies in amazing ways, teaching her to deliver a blow that would drop a man despite her smaller size.
    Her master was from China, but he was unlike any of the Chinese people she had seen scurrying down the streets with their heads lowered. He held himself with pride. Outside the Solitary Chamber, her father’s elite customers would look down their noses at him, declaring him a