The Secret Kings

by Brian Niemeier

  “And Jaren doesn’t have a golden cord,” said Astlin. “But Tefler does.”

  Ydahl must have brought Tefler’s food in while no one was looking, because he was too busy chewing a large mouthful of meat and bread to respond.

  “Tefler’s golden cord isn’t from Shaiel,” Elena said. “Like all priests of Thera, he inherited it from his father.”

  “Deim was a priest of Thera,” Teg said more to himself than the others. “That makes an extra scary kind of sense.”

  Anris raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I do not accuse Mr. Peregrine of spying. But as one captain to another, I urge him to consider the welfare of those under his protection. Shaiel is not the only evil in this world.”

  “We all appreciate your concerns, Anris,” Nakvin said. “But two goddesses just vouched for Jaren. He’s one of the best strategists alive, and he knows Vaun better than almost anybody. I need him.”

  Jaren pushed back from the table. “Sorry,” he said with resignation in his voice and a half-grin on his face, “but Anris is right. You want my strategic advice? Now is not the time to deal with unknown quantities.”

  Nakvin’s face fell. “Are you sure, Jaren?”

  “It’s the smart move,” Jaren said, “at least until we know more.” He stood and gave Anris a ghost salute with his missing right hand. The malakh returned the salute and escorted Jaren out of the room.

  Tefler’s loudly squeaking chair broke the uneasy silence as he got up from the table.

  Nakvin glowered at her grandson. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I just came to eat,” said Tefler, spreading his arms wide. “I’m done now.”

  “Sit down,” the queen said through clenched teeth.

  “I should’ve let your imp kill Sulaiman,” Tefler said. “Then there’d have been this weird time paradox where I’d probably never have existed, but at least I wouldn’t have to put up with your tyrannical dining etiquette.” He sat down heavily and crossed his arms.

  Nakvin set her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands. Teg stared wide-eyed at Tefler. Elena destroyed her cube with a dismissive gesture. Anris returned and stood quietly beside the door.

  “Sulaiman died anyway, didn’t he?” Astlin said sadly.

  “Yes,” said Nakvin. “He went back to kill Elena aboard the Exodus.”

  “But Vaun killed him first,” Teg finished for her, looking as if he’d found the last piece of a fiendish puzzle.

  Sorrow and anger warred in Astlin’s heart. “Death is Vaun’s Fire.”

  When Astlin saw everyone looking at her, she explained, “When I was a souldancer, the fire in my soul wanted to consume everything around me. Vaun was the souldancer of the Void. His power has grown, but the connection’s still there. He killed my friends. Now he’s killed an innocent boy.”

  Teg raised his hand. “As someone he killed, I can vouch for your theory. It doesn’t matter if they’re souldancers, gods, or men. Vaun’s kind bring death, and they don’t stop unless you put them down.”

  Astlin felt a delicate yet strong hand take hers. She looked at the table’s head and saw that Nakvin had joined hands with her and Elena.

  “Tell us what happened last night, Astlin,” Nakvin said.

  “Zay—one of the Nesshin children—woke me up in the middle of the night.” Astlin fought to keep her voice even and partially succeeded. “I saw that he had two life cords. One was gold. He spoke to me. Then Xander spoke through him; then Shaiel.”

  Nakvin leaned forward. Her silver eyes gleamed as they came under the lights. “What did they say?”

  “Zay said that someone had taken his king.” Astlin shook her head in frustration. “Then I heard Xander. He warned me not to listen; no matter what Shaiel promised.”

  “Vaun made you a promise?” asked Nakvin.

  Astlin looked around a room filled with people she couldn’t bear to lose. “He said someone’s coming to negotiate our surrender. He promised to destroy Avalon if the gate’s not open in six days. Then he killed Zay to make his point.”

  “He was a good kid,” said Teg. “Wanted to be a steersman. The last thing he’d want is us caving to Vaun’s empty threats.”

  Nakvin squeezed Astlin’s hand. “Who is Vaun sending, Astlin?”

  “Xander,” Astlin said, her voice trembling.

  “Why is Xander working for Shaiel?” asked Tefler. “He hates him more than I do.”

  Teg rubbed the side of his neck. “Izlaril—the psycho nudist who murdered Cook and almost got me—slapped Vaun’s old mask on Xander’s face. Apparently he’s possessed now.”

  For the first time since he’d joined them, the flippant look drained from Tefler’s face. “Cook is dead? That Izlaril guy killed Cook?”

  Astlin bowed her head. “Tefler, I’m sorry. I was there, but I couldn’t save him.”

  “Hey,” Teg said with iron conviction, “it wasn’t your fault. Izlaril did the job, and at the end of the day, he’s Shaiel’s Blade. Like you said, Vaun spreads death like a plague rat.”

  Tefler rose from the table. “Shaiel’s dead,” he vowed as he stormed out of the room.

  Nakvin didn’t try to stop him. She released Astlin and Elena’s hands and looked to her captain.

  “Anris, how do our forces match up against Shaiel’s?”

  “We are no match, I’m afraid,” said Anris. “Shaiel controls all three inhabited Cardinal Spheres, either directly or through his allies. The strongest of those are the Night Gen, whose fleet has conquered Mithgar and now Temil. Meanwhile, Shaiel’s fleet at Cadrys wields a remnant of the Guild’s old might.

  “By comparison,” Anris continued, “our numbers are a fraction of Shaiel’s alone, and our army is trained and equipped to fight a ground war. The capital’s air defenses notwithstanding, we are ill-prepared to repel an ether-runner assault.”

  “It’s a good thing Nakvin and Elena can stop an invasion before it starts,” said Teg.

  Nakvin spoke gently to Astlin. “If I don’t let Xander in, do you think Vaun will hurt him?”

  The room seemed to tilt. “I think he already is,” Astlin said in a near-whisper.

  “Something’s wrong here,” said Teg. “If Vaun could talk through the kid, why send Xander?”

  “The boy was only a facet of Shaiel,” said Elena. “Vaun could see and speak through him, but Xander makes a far more useful tool.”

  Elena’s words recalled a fearful memory to Astlin’s mind. “He had the crystal rod,” she said. “And the ruby—the tools Kelgrun used to cut out a piece of my soul.”

  “Yeah,” said Teg, “Xander took Smith and a couple of Magists apart for those rocks. What are they?”

  “The stone that looks like a ruby is Thera’s vas,” Elena said. “It holds the fragments that were cut from other souldancers to make me. The rod is a nexic device powerful enough to partition aspects of a soul. It’s how the Shadow Caste isolated parts for removal.”

  Astlin’s fear turned to cold terror. “Shaiel was hunting Smith to make more souldancers. Now he has everything he needs.”

  “That sounds bad,” said Teg, “but judging by the look on your face, it’s even worse than I think.”

  “Souldancers are living gates to other Strata,” Nakvin said. “If Vaun makes new souldancers for each Stratum and gives them golden cords, they’ll taint the cosmos with Void.”

  Astlin looked over her friends’ troubled faces. “It’s worse than that. I found out the hard way that putting the missing piece back in doesn’t make a souldancer human again. Instead the soul perfectly merges with the Stratum. Vaun would have all of the soul fragments. He could make a souldancer and immediately perfect it. If the souldancer has a golden cord…”

  “The associated Stratum instantly becomes an extension of the Void,” Elena said.

  A sharp exhale passed Teg’s lips. “Sometimes I hate being right.”

  “That still leaves the question of why Vaun is sending Xander,” said Nak
vin. “If he needs the vas and the rod to make souldancers, it’s a safe bet that Xander doesn’t have them.”

  Elena’s rose-colored eyes looked up and to the left for a second. “The vas is stationary on Cadrys. Xander isn’t near any of my facets, but if Shaiel plans on sending him here, he’s probably waiting in the ether for Avalon’s gate to open.”

  “Could the ultimatum Vaun gave Astlin just be a diversion?” Nakvin asked.

  “That’s doubtful,” said Elena. “Vaun most likely believes that he’s trapped us in a lose-lose scenario. Letting Xander in gives him a foothold here, but ignoring the ultimatum gives him more freedom to create tainted souldancers and a pretext to use them.”

  Nakvin set her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. “It sounds like Vaun is right.”

  “Perhaps,” said Anris, “but he is also overextended.”

  Teg’s eyes lit up. “Remember that con Malachi pulled on us?” he asked Nakvin.

  The queen gave a dry chuckle. “Which one?”

  “The time when he lured you and Jaren to that empty asteroid and raided Melanoros,” said Teg. “That little gambit drove us off Tharis for good.”

  “If you’re trying to reassure me,” said Nakvin, “that didn’t do the trick.”

  Anris strode up to Nakvin’s side. “If I may, Your Majesty, I believe that Mr. Cross is suggesting a raid on Cadrys.”

  “That’s crazy!” Nakvin said. “The gate’s either open or closed, so sending a raid out means letting Vaun in.”

  Teg leaned toward her. “Even before he became a god, Vaun thought he was the smartest kid in school. We expect him to sneak a nasty surprise in with Xander, but he won’t expect us to try the same thing.”

  “Because it’s suicidal,” said Nakvin. “Sending a big enough force to do any damage on Cadrys would leave us vulnerable to whatever Vaun sends here.”

  “Who said anything about sending a force?” asked Teg. “I plan on doing this alone.”

  Nakvin scoffed. “Now that’s just silly.” She took another sip of wine.

  “It’s our best option,” said Teg. “I’m not a frontline soldier. If Vaun brings the kind of air and ground war we expect, you won’t even notice I’m gone. What I do specialize in is sneaking around and taking things unnoticed.”

  A smile brightened Anris’ lavender face. “You intend to steal Thera’s vas and the rod of partition.”

  “That’s just the warmup,” said Teg. “For the main event, I’ll extract Smith to Avalon.”

  Elena looked thoughtful. “The vas contains a fragment of Vaun’s soul. I should be able to strike at him through the gem if Teg succeeds.”

  “And when Teg’s pulled that off,” said Nakvin, “he can go to the ether and practice fire eating!”

  “You’re the leader of a country facing invasion,” Teg told her. “Part of your job will be making decisions that get people killed. I’m comfortable with the idea that I could be one of them. If you’re not, step down and let someone else run this war.”

  Nakvin’s expression softened as her eyes met Teg’s. “I spent years getting comfortable with the idea that you already were,” she said. “How am I supposed to do it again?”

  “Look,” said Teg, “I have contacts inside Vaun’s organization. He’ll have his eyes on Avalon, and I can arrange a diversion for his people on Cadrys. Worst case scenario, I can deal with anyone who becomes a problem.”

  The image of Teg lying cold and bloody on the floor of a cave sent a chill down Astlin’s spine.

  “What about Izlaril?” she asked.

  Teg faced her, his eyes and voice steady. “If Izlaril’s there and he gets in my way, I’ll kill him.”

  “Didn’t he almost kill you?” asked Nakvin.

  Teg sat back and looked at the chandelier. “Yes he did, and he knows that almost doesn’t count. That leaves us tied at zero after round two. If there’s a round three, he’ll go into it knowing that his best shot wasn’t enough. And he still hasn’t seen my best.”

  Nakvin sighed. “At least let me send some of my stalkers with you.”

  “If I thought they’d be any help in urban operations, I’d take you up on that,” said Teg. “Besides, if they’re still half as good as the one who shot me in the Exodus’ hangar, they’ll be plenty of use to you here.”

  “I should know better than to argue tactics with you,” Nakvin said. “I’ll approve the operation on two conditions. First, we wait the full six days before I let Xander in.”

  She gestured from Teg to Astlin. “Second, both of you will spend that time in training. If anyone can whip you into fighting form, it’s Anris.”

  Astlin stared at the smiling purple giant. “I don’t doubt Anris,” she said, “but how much can he teach us in six days?”

  Nakvin finished her wine. “A lot, considering I’ll be stretching each of those days into a month.”

  “Can you really do that?” asked Astlin.

  “Making Zebel’s daughter their queen wasn’t just a matter of legality for the Light Gen,” said Nakvin. “Hell is a machine that responds to a certain type of user. I can control it just like the baals.”

  “Maintaining that degree of time dilation won’t leave you enough strength to hold the gate closed,” Elena warned.

  “You’re right,” said Nakvin. “Think you can keep out the undesirables all by yourself?”

  Elena laced her fingers. “Shaiel and I are equal in power, but my presence here gives me an advantage. I should be able to deny him entry.”

  “Sounds like we have a plan,” said Teg. “We prep for six months, which will be six days to Vaun. After that Elena and Nakvin open the gate. Xander comes in, and I go out. While you’re keeping Vaun’s messenger busy, I steal his toys behind his back. Elena hits him in the family jewel, and we win.”

  Nakvin turned to Elena. “Couldn’t Vaun attack you through the vas?”

  “Yes,” Elena said. “The fact that he hasn’t suggests three possibilities—he’s unaware of that option, he is aware but doesn’t know how to implement it, or he’s fully capable but is holding it in reserve to coerce me. In any event, retrieving the vas is the only way to keep Shaiel from using it against me while letting us use it against him.”

  Astlin had been grappling with a dilemma throughout the conversation. Now she made a decision.

  “You should all know that I won’t leave Xander at Shaiel’s mercy,” she said. “No matter what happens, I’ll do whatever I can to free him.”

  Elena’s eyes, like circles of rose quartz, seemed to pierce Astlin’s soul. “Shaiel is more than a match for you alone,” Elena said, “and he can turn Xander’s strength against you.”

  The words hit Astlin like a slap across the face, but she stood her ground. “Impossible odds never stopped me before.”

  A slight smile brightened Elena’s face. “Defeat isn’t certain. If I join my power to yours, the odds will be even.”

  Astlin felt suddenly light, as if she’d been carrying a burden that Elena now shared.

  “I was angry with you for a long time,” Astlin confessed to Elena. “Because they hurt me to make you. But if I had to go through all of that torture again just so you could live, I would.”

  Elena rose from her chair. Astlin couldn’t read her expression as she spoke. “Thera was supposed to return and unmake creation. Do you know what stopped me from being her?”

  “No,” Astlin said softly.

  “The people at this table,” said Elena. “Especially you and my mother. What little room my heart has for others comes from you two. It’s only right that you both have a place in it.”

  Elena exited the room. Anris stood and watched her leave in awed silence.

  Astlin’s certainty that Elena could help her free Xander gave her comfort, but a troubling question remained.

  Who can help Elena?

  A tap on her shoulder snapped Astlin out of her dark meditation. She looked up and to the right to see Teg standing beside her.r />
  “I didn’t mean to brush you off earlier,” he said. “It’s good to know somebody cares if I live or die.”

  “I’m not the only one,” said Astlin. “We all hope you come back safe from Cadrys.”

  Teg put his arm around her. “How’d you like to help make sure that happens?”

  30

  After spending five hours up her to elbows in the Aqrab-class nexus-runner’s control dais, Celwen was no closer to finding the source of the distortion in the ship’s sympathetic interface.

  Not that she minded. Isolating the problem could take another five hours for all she cared.

  Celwen pulled herself out of the service hatch that exposed the control system’s guts and sat on the steps leading up to the dais. Her grey hands were covered with a sooty residue left by the fungi that wove microbial networks through the ship’s organic crystal brain. She looked for her hand towel and muttered a curse when she realized that she’d left it in her uniform jacket.

  Taking care to make as little contact with the matte silver jacket as possible, Celwen removed the washcloth from the breast pocket and mopped her sweaty brow; then cleaned her hands as much as possible. The last vestiges of soot she wiped on her black undershirt. After all, it wasn’t as if anyone would see it.

  Celwen threw down the dirty towel and lay back on the steps with a sigh. Had she been assigned to repair the mid-sized vessel, she never would have been so lax. But this was a personal project taken on by choice in the absence of anything better to do.

  She almost wished that Raig had arrested her and been done with it. Instead, she’d ended up on mandatory recreational leave, ostensibly to relieve the stress of her ordeal on Temil. Idleness was close to torture for someone who derived meaning from her work, but even worse was having to endure her shipmates’ whispers and averted eyes as word of her treason spread.

  Celwen took a deep breath of stuffy air that tasted faintly of rotten fruit. The act failed to calm her mind. Instead her thoughts returned to the vanquished sphere below, where the political machinery that the Magists had built was being used to relocate the human populace to small islands in less hospitable climates.