Darius smiled down at her as he folded her body around him. She smiled back, and as she nibbled at his chin she decided to give him exactly what he wanted. Reaching into his mind, she conjured up his fantasy and allowed it to consume him. Soon he was hammering away at a completely different woman, and a climax soon shuddered through him.
Later, he would feel guilty about this little affair. But that was all right. Guilt would just make him more malleable, which was probably for the best. She would need him in the days ahead, and together they would finally bring justice to the Alliance.
“Gods,” Darius breathed. “I love you so much.”
Smiling, Krystia leaned her head. “I love you too.”
***
Midnight had long since passed by the time Ethan Moore slipped inside Celenest and maneuvered his way to his new safe house inside the city. Calling a three-story mansion in the prestigious Sylinar District a “house” was a bit of a misnomer, of course, but he had been looking forward to sleeping in a real bed ever since he had set out from Lyebel. Flying on griffonback had cut several days off his trip, but it had also done a number on his already battered body. His arms and legs felt like they were about to fall off, and his back hadn’t ached this much in months.
Still, as he unlocked the back door and slipped inside, a part of him wanted to crawl into the nearest sewer grate and hide out there until his business was finished. Traveling anywhere in the city was a significant risk, and living inside an otherwise abandoned mansion was a great way to draw unwanted attention to himself. Even here in the heart of the Alliance where the law ostensibly protected both noble and peasant equally, this district was patrolled as least twice as heavily as any besides the palace. He couldn’t afford to be spotted by anyone…but after years of flitting between dilapidated shanties and rubble-strewn hovels, the thought of spending a few hours inside a proper estate brought a rare smile to his weathered face.
One tap on the closest glow-lamp illuminated the entire bottom floor, and Ethan immediately made his way to the kitchen. As expected, the larder was well-stocked; it only took him a few seconds to find a bottle of spiced rum and an assortment of salted meats. The entire house was pristine, as if it hadn’t been used in months…which was almost certainly true. Smiling again, he spiraled his way up the staircase towards the master bedroom, and once he arrived he pushed open the door with his foot—
And then nearly dropped his bottle of rum when he saw Krystia sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed.
“Hello, Ethan. I’m glad to see you made it here safely.”
He bit his lip and fought to compose himself. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Making sure you’re all right, of course,” she said, obviously amused by his discomfort. “I see you’ve already helped yourself to the larder.”
“How did you get in?”
“I walked in the front door. Do you really think a mechanical lock can keep out a determined channeler?”
Ethan grunted. “It’s not a good idea for people to know that someone has moved in. The neighbors might start asking questions.”
“Calm down, no one saw me,” Krystia soothed. She seemed different than the last time he had seen her. Her voice, her posture…she had always been confident in her abilities, but she had always been a little less confident around him. Not anymore. “What I find much more interesting is who actually owns this mansion.”
“I told you that an old war contact owed me a favor,” Ethan said, stepping inside and setting his rum down on a dresser.
“That is what you said, but I knew there was more to it. I did some peeking around the records, and apparently an Elashi noblewoman named Hadassa Deshvir lived here for the past three years. She moved out six months ago without telling anyone, which I found extremely…convenient.”
“I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Of course not. I would never believe you capable of such a thing,” Krystia replied dryly. “No, it took a bit of work, but I discovered that Lady Deshvir used to be quite…friendly…with Jonathan Alistan, senior member of the Lord’s Council.”
Ethan took off his overcoat and hung it inside the armoire. “And this concerns you?”
“Not really. I just know Alistan has had a rather significant change of heart recently. He has been the staunchest opponent of intervention, but now he’s suddenly and unexpected come to Darius’s side. We’ve been trying to figure out why.”
“Not too strenuously, I hope,” Ethan commented. “With Alistan on General Iouna’s side, it makes the Council far more susceptible to his suggestions.”
Krystia’s pale blue eyes appraised him briefly, and as he went to pour himself a drink, he made a conscious effort to focus his thoughts so that she wouldn’t get anything from him. He had been a channeler himself for most of his life, and he knew that a disciplined mind could make it very hard for a telepath to glean anything
“I wondered how long you had this card up your sleeve,” she asked after a moment.
He gestured at her with a second glass from the nightstand, and she nodded. He poured two glasses and handed her one.
“I’ve known Alistan a long time, and I have some leverage on him,” Ethan said. “But really, he knows it’s in his best interests to support me right now.”
“That’s the part I can’t figure out. He’s always been against escalation because his territory sits right along the northwestern border. If you’ve told him anything about what we’re planning, he would have to realize how much he stands to lose. His entire province will be occupied long before we could mount a counterattack.”
Ethan took a long sip and admired the drink’s sweetness. Ikaran imports weren’t cheap, and he hadn’t tasted anything like this in years. “He understands that in the long term, he’ll be better off once the Crell are driven out. His borders will be safe.”
“I wonder how many other things you’ve failed to mention to me in the last six months,” Krystia mused. “I might as well let you know you can’t keep secrets from me anymore.”
Ethan smiled. “Is that so?”
“How long has Alistan been working for the Zarul?”
The smile vanished, and the rum turned bitter in his mouth. Something was definitely different about her today. She almost always started their conversations cool and in control, but after a while he was invariably able to crack her resolve and get at her real feelings. This time, however, he saw no such weakness. Something must have happened during his trip here, something that had galvanized her. If it weren’t for the fact she had just ripped a deeply buried secret from his mind, he might have thought it a boon. Instead…
“You wanted me to be ready to kill, Ethan,” she reminded him. “You wanted me to be willing to walk into an old man’s chambers and murder him in cold blood. You wanted me to be ready to sacrifice tens of thousands of lives to save millions more. Well, I can do that now. You should be pleased.”
He met her gaze and tried to remain calm. “What happened to you?”
“My question first.”
Ethan sighed. “I don’t know exactly, but I’d guess at least a year. The Zarul Sovereign, Damir, bought his loyalty when she convinced him a third war was coming. She knew the about-face of one of the biggest doves on the Council would be a political asset when the time was right.”
“What did she offer him?”
“I’m not completely certain, but I do know it involved money and false promises about the safety of his homeland once the war was over.”
Her lip twisted in disgust. “He’s betting on us losing.”
“He’s an old man,” Ethan pointed out. “He lived through the second war and his father fought in the first. He has plenty of reasons to believe the Alliance won’t survive the third.”
“So how do you fit in?”
Ethan downed the rest of his glass before pressing his tongue hard into his cheek. “I told you I made arrangements with the Crell last time we sp
oke. That’s not entirely true.”
“You’ve been working with them for a while now, haven’t you?”
He nodded. “Almost a year. I learned of Alistan’s arrangement and confronted him about it; this allowed me to gain some additional leverage on him for later use. I convinced him he might be able to save his people and keep the Alliance if he helped me.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, her face scrunched in concern. “How long has he known?”
“About our coup? He doesn’t know anything specific; I’ve been very vague with details. He knows I’m plotting something behind-the-scenes, but without the details there’s nothing he can do to stop us.”
“I see,” Krystia murmured. “I assume you’re the one that slipped him information on the demons in Lyebel.”
“Of course,” Ethan said. “Again, all part of his about-face. It added validity and—”
“I understand the logic,” she assured him tartly. “There’s another issue you need to be aware of. Adar sent a message through the Solarian priests this afternoon. Apparently your son just left Lyebel.”
Ethan froze. “What?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. Adar didn’t provide any details. Military Command isn’t going to be happy about it, and I doubt the knights will, either.”
Ethan turned and paced away. If Jason had left Lyebel, that obviously meant he was alive and conscious…but what about the spark? He could have decided to come here to Solaria and hand its power over to the Alliance, but if that were true, then why hadn’t he told the priests about it? They could have arranged protection for his trip.
“Something is obviously wrong,” he whispered. “Perhaps he is simply running away.”
“That doesn’t sound like him.”
Ethan snorted. “That sounds exactly like him.”
“He saved my life,” Krystia reminded him. “He fought in the war. He’s not a coward.”
Ethan shook his head. There was no other explanation for Jason to slip out secretly like that. He must have let fear overtake him. “What about his friends? Did they accompany him?”
“Yes, including Elade. Lord Alric is rather livid about that.”
“Why the hell would she go with Jason?”
“The Zarul prisoner told our priests that Elade was Unbound. You can imagine the Dawn’s response.”
“Unbound,” Ethan whispered, shaking his head. “Tevek, you old fool…”
“He’s a braver man than you’ll ever be,” Krystia said stiffly. “He’s going to suffer because the knights are all bigots.”
“Yes, Alric will probably make his move to take over the Dawn. It’s been coming for years; I warned Tevek about his old friend many times, but of course he never listened to me. He refuses to acknowledge the truth even when it’s right there in front of him, and now it’s too late.” Ethan pursed his lips. “This still doesn’t tell us where Jason is going.”
“One of the priests overheard them talking about Darius. I bet that means they are all still headed here.”
“Perhaps,” Ethan murmured. As much as he wanted to leave right now and try to track down his son—and the divine spark inside him—he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Not right now, at least. He needed to focus on the task at hand. “Regardless, I will begin the appropriate rituals tomorrow to summon us the reinforcements we need. I will require your assistance.”
“I’ll be here,” Krystia said, standing and setting down her empty glass. “Try and get some sleep. I’ll be back in the afternoon.”
Ethan turned to her as she moved towards the door. “You never answered my question, by the way. What happened to you?”
Krystia glanced back over her shoulder, her blue eyes glistening. “I found clarity.”
Chapter Ten
“Anyone can be redeemed.”
—The Book of Maeleon
The Dawn Citadel was a thing of beauty, a pillar of light standing resolute against the darkness of the God’s Wastes. For Tevek Dracian, the tower had also been his home for almost four decades. But here and now, walking through its winding corridors of burnished obsidian, he felt like an old man returning to his childhood cabin. He could recall every nook and cranny, every imperfection, every smell. Each hallway carried its own remembrance of a lost conversation, each room the echo of a forgotten comrade. They were mementos of what had once been but could never be again. They were a reminder that all things changed…and all things came to an end.
During his five-day journey from Lyebel to the Brackengarde portal and then here to the Citadel, Tevek had started to believe that he was coping reasonably well with the loss of his channeling ability. But being here amongst his brothers and sisters quickly shattered that illusion. He couldn’t feel their presence through their shared bond to Maeleon, nor could he send them emotional assurances as he walked by. He felt cold and alone.
Perhaps this wasn’t like an old man returning to his childhood home at all; it was more like a ghost realizing he could no longer affect the world around him.
Less than an hour after he arrived, he was standing before the Conclave, the six senior knight-lords who, along with himself, coordinated the efforts of their kind across the world. Only five were present at the moment, since Gabriel had temporarily set up a command post in Celenest, but they listened politely as he recounted the major events in Lyebel. Elade had given them a succinct report, of course, but they had still wanted to hear his detailed story first hand.
The knight-lords surrounded the circular marble table, each evenly spaced from the next. Despite his position as the Highlord, Tevek had no throne or seat from which to reign over the others. The Conclave was meant to be a single body, a unit of equals who made collaborative decisions. It had endured for nearly two millennia, and many countries—the Alliance included—had adopted similar systems for their own governments.
“If you weren’t recounting this story personally, it would seem almost impossible,” Avilar murmured. He was the oldest active member of the Dawn at seventy four, and Tevek had always hoped he would be as spry himself in twenty more years. “The ability to sever a divine bond…”
“We know he’s an Unbound, but that’s about all,” Tevek said. “He didn’t open up much to Elade, at least not before I left.”
“Sir Lavonde reported the Solarian priests didn’t have much luck, either,” Najeen confirmed. She was Tevek’s age, with the light brown skin and eyes typical of her Elashi ancestry. “Though they believe only an Unbound can master this technique.”
“I can only hope that is true. If every Imperator were capable of turning this weapon against us, it would be a disaster.”
“Yes,” she agreed solemnly. “The Solarians were taking the man to Garos for further interrogation. Hopefully in time they will learn more from him.”
“Even if the technique is limited to Unbound, that is ultimately a small consolation,” Galadron, a middle-aged Solarian, put in. “The Sovereigns have no qualms about training their Unbound…so long as their wills can be broken first. Even a few dozen of these ‘Breakers’ could sew chaos across Torsia and beyond.”
“A coordinated team could disable the defenses of an entire city before an attack,” Avilar said. “And small outposts would be even more vulnerable.”
“Which brings up another excellent point,” the calm, baritone voice of Dagrid Moers put in. His Crell accent was thick and more than a little disturbing sometimes, but he always managed to sound calm and cultured regardless. “Recent events have proven that we need to reconsider the role of our leadership.”
Tevek tried unsuccessfully to stifle a sigh. “You’re going to suggest that I should never have gone to Lyebel in the first place.”
“You should have never left the Citadel in the first place, let alone crossed into enemy territory,” Moers said pointedly. “This Conclave has been without its Highlord for almost a week, Tevek. We cannot take foolish risks with our leadership, especially not now.”
�
�Sir Alric has temporarily been given the status of Highlord, pending results of the Binding Ritual,” Galadron said. “I’m sure you know he agrees with our assessment here.”
“We have more pressing issues to deal with right now,” Tevek reminded them, trying not to sound overly pushy. “Let us save this debate for another time.”
Moers eyed him carefully before finally turning away. Tevek might not have been connected to them all anymore, but he could still sense that something was wrong—something beyond the Crell’s new weapon or the upcoming war. It felt like he had walked in on the middle of a conversation.
“Very well,” the Crell man said. “There is another matter we need to bring to your attention. It seems Moore and his associates decided to leave Lyebel. Sir Lavonde believes they are heading to Solaria.”
“So Jason is alive, then,” Tevek whispered. “Thank Maeleon. I assume he has decided to assist the Alliance?”
“We’re not entirely sure. He claimed he needed to track down the source of the demons, but he didn’t provide any more information. Dame Devarath accompanied him.”
“After disobeying an order from Sir Lavonde,” Galadron added. “Lord Alric wished for her to return to the Citadel.”
Tevek frowned. “Why?”
The two men glanced at each other, then back to Tevek. “He believes her presence there threatens our relationship with the Solarians and the rebels,” the man continued. “My countrymen in particular expressed reservations about dealing with a vaeyn.”
He could almost hear Gabriel’s voice speaking those words. They were nonsense, of course; the knight-lords were merely stalling to give him the opportunity to come clean…or tossing him the rope with which to hang himself. Either way, the fact of the matter was that they knew the truth. Elade’s Unbound heritage had finally been revealed…and he wasn’t sure what was going to happen next.
“I’m not going to validate Solarian racism,” Tevek replied stiffly. “I left her standing orders to pursue any available leads on the infestation. She was under no obligation to listen to anyone else.”
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