by Carysa Locke
“Impressive,” he said, more to dig at her than anything. “Does it come with a portcullis?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Word of advice: she’s not in a good mood. Your humor would be unwise.”
There was something in her face. Fear? “Why do you serve someone who frightens you?” he asked seriously. Getting to the bottom of her loyalties was one of the reasons he was here.
She didn’t look at him, seeming to concentrate on each step toward the castle. He didn’t think she was going to answer him. He reached out, testing the area to get an idea of the numbers he’d face when it came time to leave.
Odd. He only sensed minds in the spaceport, and farther afield, in the city he’d glimpsed as they’d flown in. Nothing in the castle itself. Most of them were Talented, but not all. There was a surprisingly large number of nulls. Given the Alpha Queen’s predilection for killing them, he wondered why.
Abruptly, Thirteen stopped. He almost ran into her, because he was so focused on trying to puzzle it out.
“You’re going to do something stupid,” she said wearily. “Don’t.”
“I think I’m offended.”
She faced him, and she was standing so close that her dark hair brushed his face when the wind blew past them. It carried the smell of woodsmoke and rain. “Stop with the jokes, with the stupid questions, and above all, stop thinking you’re more powerful than she is. You’re not.”
He dropped the mask of humor he so often wore, matching her seriousness with his own. “If you’re so concerned about me, why did you bring me here?”
“I’m not concerned.”
“The only two times you’ve spoken to me since we arrived have both been warnings. You’re worried.” He leaned closer. “About me.”
She looked away, staring into the distance. “This entire mission went to hell. I left here with a Wraith Squad and a teleporter, sent to bring back a Queen. Instead, I’m coming back alone, with you.” Her lips pressed together, her mouth thinning with displeasure. “If I’d had my way, you wouldn’t even be here. You’re arrogant and rude, and you use that to get your way. Here, that will just get you killed. You asked me why I’m loyal to someone who scares me.” Her gaze shifted back to meet his, her bottomless blue-violet eyes capturing him. “You’ve seen what she is, you know what her plan is. Which side would you rather be on? Hers? Or the rest of the galaxy as she grinds it to dust? You have two options: join her, or let your arrogance be your death.”
He laughed, his voice low. “You think this is the first time I’ve dealt with an insane Queen? It’s not. I’m arrogant, I’ll grant you that. But I’m not stupid. I won’t challenge her in her own castle.” He gestured to the fortress behind her. “I didn’t come here to die, Laureyna.”
She flinched. “Where did you hear that name?”
So, she knew about it. Interesting.
“It’s yours, isn’t it?” He was definitely not going to tell her about his lovely chat with an AI named Yelena. It was nice to know that despite his idiocy in rushing off on what his brother called a foolhardy quest, the others knew not only where he’d gone, but had an in to tracking him.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? It’s your name.”
She drew in a deep breath. “My name is Thirteen.”
He cocked his head. “You know who you are. I know you do. So, you’d rather continue ignoring your history and living as one number among many? When you have a birthright waiting for you? A home, a people, a pal—”
Her hand covered his mouth. “Stop talking.”
It surprised him. Not that she wanted him to be quiet, but there was intimacy to the gesture, to how close they were standing, that he didn’t think she was prepared to acknowledge.
He waited, patient. She couldn’t stand here like this all day. He lifted a brow, wordlessly asking her if she meant to do just that. With a hiss of frustration, she removed her hand.
“Do not bring that up, ever again. Do you understand? Whatever other stupidity you have planned, leave me out of it.”
He bit back a sigh. This was going to take longer than he’d planned. She was quite deeply rooted here, and it would take time to dig her out. Well, then. He looked past her to the fortress. He’d best prepare himself for a long stay, and whatever unpleasantness that entailed.
“Why can I not sense the minds inside?” he asked, jerking his head toward the structure.
She made an impatient noise. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, but you’re too headstrong and thick headed to listen.”
“I’m listening,” he said, keeping his tone meek and his gaze humble.
She eyed him suspiciously as they began walking again. “The castle is made from a special substance that inhibits Talent. You won’t be able to penetrate its walls with telepathy or plane walking or whatever else you do. Each room is similarly constructed within, as well. So there will be no spying.”
The first prickles of unease moved through him. Thirteen — no Laureyna. He would think of her by her proper name, whatever she did or didn’t want him to say. Laureyna’s face took on a knowing look.
“I told you, you need to be careful. You won’t be the all powerful Treon here, but just one more cog in her machine of war.”
“Like you,” he said.
She did not reply.
They continued in silence until they reached the castle entrance. Despite himself, Treon hesitated at the threshold. She walked in ahead of him, and when she did her mind vanished from his awareness. It was the oddest feeling staring at her physical form standing right in front of him, while being utterly unable to sense that her mind existed.
She turned in the doorway, her figure framed by the light behind her, and raised a sardonic eyebrow at him, waiting. She was taunting him, he knew. That look said: See, I knew you weren’t as confident as you pretend.
She was wrong, though. Many people mistook him and his arrogance, assuming he was like every other puffed up egomaniac. Treon was not actually as arrogant as he pretended to be. He knew his limits, but he also thought it unwise to advertise those limits to others. So, he pretended he didn’t have any. People assumed he was an arrogant prick (and he could be, on occasion; he was self-aware enough to admit that), and underestimated his ability accordingly.
Actually being a phenomenally powerful telepath just made the role easier to play.
He knew he was in a dangerous position. Allowing himself to be brought here was a calculated risk. He was walking into the lion’s den, hoping to get a glimpse of the lioness to better understand their enemy. Mercy and Reaper had made a start, finding out information about the Alpha Queen’s origins, but that information was three hundred years out of date. Treon wanted to know what she was now. She only seemed to venture forth by possessing others. He needed to see her, as she was. That meant going to her.
If he walked out again afterward, and managed to take Laureyna with him, so much the better.
He met her smile with one of his own, and stepped across the doorway. Her mind appeared again, but all of the others outside disappeared.
Wait. That made no sense. He turned and stared back the way they’d come.
“How is this possible?” he asked. “I’ve met your Queen before. She uses her Talent all of the time. She crossed half the universe with it, possessing people, attacking them. If this substance and this place are so impenetrable to Talent, how does she do this?”
Laureyna tilted her head, remaining silent.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“I thought you loved a good mystery,” she said, teasing him.
He liked it when she relaxed enough to tease. She was wound so tight most of the time, it was like she was a different woman from the one he’d met aboard Nemesis. Who was the real Laureyna? She had so many faces, he couldn’t be sure. He hoped for the galaxy’s sake that this teasing young woman was more true to herself than the ruthless side he’d glimpsed on Arcadi
us V. She’d need both for what was to come, but he was afraid the ruthlessness might run too deep.
“So when do I get to meet your Queen?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
“Soon.”
She took him deeper into the castle. Each time they passed into a new room or down a new corridor, more minds opened up to his Talent, while others disappeared. It was disconcerting, and for someone like him who relied so heavily on his Talent, disorienting. He didn’t like it at all.
He thought he was hiding his reaction pretty well, until she turned to him and said, “Would you like me to take the edge off for you?”
He pulled away from her. “By doing whatever it is you do to manipulate shields and Talent? No thank you.”
She shrugged. “It was just an offer.”
“I’ll get used to it.” He hoped that was a lie. He didn’t want to get used to this. He would endure it, yes. But learn to live with it? No.
They turned down a long corridor, and something in her body language told him this was it. They were getting close. They stopped before a door that didn’t seem any different than any other. He steeled himself.
Laureyna knocked, and a muffled voice called. “Enter.”
They went in.
He didn’t know what he expected. A withered old crone radiating terrible power? A young girl like the one she’d possessed when last he’d met her?
First, the room was nothing like the rest of the fortress he’d seen. For one thing, it was filled with plants. Benches lined the walls. Tables ran the length of the room, which was considerable. It was the size of a banquet hall. Absolutely every surface was covered in potted, growing green. The smell of earth permeated the room, seasoned with light, floral high notes and herbal undertones.
They didn’t see anyone when they first entered. But Treon sensed her. So strong. She filled the room with her presence. It was overwhelming. He’d felt something like this before, when Mercy’s Talent had exploded across the galaxy and claimed hundreds of thousands of Talented minds. But that strength had faded back afterward, leaving a woman who only occasionally radiated the kind of aura one expected from a Queen.
He remembered Lilith’s power always draped around her. She walked into a room, and people stopped what they were doing to turn and look. She vibrated with it, impossible to ignore, but not so uncomfortable that you couldn’t spend time with her.
This woman was nothing like Mercy or Lilith. Power spilled from her like an overflowing vessel. He walked into the room, and felt the urge to drop to his knees. Was that deliberate? A pressure from her mind encouraging him to worship?
Well, she would be disappointed.
She came around the corner of one of the tables, stepping out from behind a hanging basket that draped long willowy branches covered in small white flowers.
“Ah, there you are.” She smiled, pulling gloves from her hands. Dirt drifted from them down to the floor.
He stared. His jaw sagged, his mouth dropping open. This woman was neither young nor old. Middle aged, but with a face that still carried the beauty of youth, tempered by a maturity that lent her features strength. Her hair was tied back from a face her knew.
He knew her. Remembered her. It had been years, he’d only been a boy. But he remembered.
“I…don’t understand,” he heard himself say.
“No, I don’t imagine you do.” Her green eyes glinted with something he didn’t know how to name. Amusement? Compassion?
The world tilted around him. He couldn’t seem to find his bearings. He thought of the threat he’d sensed in the woman he’d faced half a galaxy away, while she’d burned through bodies too weak to support her power. She’d seemed wild then, an unbalanced personality on the brink of madness, driven there by the insane power she wielded.
This woman didn’t look mad.
“You’re—” He stopped.
“Go on,” she said, her head tilting as she watched him.
“You’re Pallas. You’re Mercy’s mother.” He shook his head. “No. That’s wrong.”
“Is it?”
“You took her body. Didn’t you?”
The woman set aside her gloves and crossed to him. He had to fight the urge to back away. She was quite a bit shorter than him, but that didn’t make her any less intimidating as she stopped in front of him and took his jaw in her hand, moving his face this way and that, studying him. It felt like she was staring deep inside him with those green eyes, but he didn’t feel anything getting past his shields.
She let go, and he breathed a sigh of relief. A second later, her power crashed over him like a wave. It drove him to his knees, a pressure unlike anything he’d felt in his entire life. It wanted to drill inside him, to take him as its own, to claim him.
He fought. On his hands and knees before her, he built a wall around the core of himself, small, seamless, impenetrable. It was made of his will and fueled by his strength. The link he felt to Mercy lined the inside, and huddled within it, he withstood wave after crashing wave.
From far away, he heard her speak. “He’s stronger than I’d hoped. You did well.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
“But I’m disappointed, too.” Now her voice lashed like a whip. “You lost an entire Wraith Squad. Not easily replaced.”
Thirteen went down on her knees beside him. The entire time they talked, waves of power crested over Treon, trying to pry him open and take what was inside.
“I’m sorry, Mother. The Queen and her retinue proved stronger than we anticipated.”
“Well, now we know their strength. We’ll be better prepared next time.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Somehow, even with his eyes squeezed shut, Treon knew when her regard shifted from Thirteen back to him. When had she become Thirteen in his thoughts again?
“Perhaps next time you’ll be able to take this one with you. He will make a formidable soldier. The planewalkers can create realities and give them life.”
Treon trembled with strain. Sweat slicked his body. It took every ounce of his will to keep her out, and slowly, he was losing ground.
He was losing.
Impossibly, the waves suddenly receded.
“If I force it now, I risk destroying his mind.” The Queen considered him while he knelt and tried not to fall over, panting as though he’d just run a marathon.
“Give him a cell. Watch him. His bond to her is strong, but we will weaken it. We will make him ours.”
“Yes, Mother.” Thirteen rose to her feet. She leaned down and hooked an arm under his, dragging him up.
The Alpha Queen smiled at him. “Welcome to my home, Treon. I’m so pleased you’re here.” She acted like the last few moments hadn’t happened. Like she was a favored Aunt welcoming him for a visit. He glared at her, but her smile only widened.
“I understand, it’s difficult for you. In time, you’ll understand this is for the best.”
Drawing a ragged breath, he decided dissembling would do no good. “I won’t,” he said clearly.
“We’ll see.”
As Thirteen led him away, his legs stumbling with every step, she turned back to her plants. “By the way, you may call me Pallas, if you wish.”
“I’m not calling you her name. You stole her life.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Make sure his cell is comfortable, Thirteen. And — no windows. We don’t want him having any unmonitored contact with the outside world.”
“Yes, Mother.”
When the door closed behind them in the hall, Treon sagged against the wall. All of that pressing power just vanished. He ached with its loss, and wanted to weep in sheer relief at the same time.
“I told you,” Thirteen said quietly. “You shouldn’t have come.”
After a few moments, he straightened, wrapping the tattered remains of his confidence back around himself. “Oh, no,” he said. “I had to come. I had to meet her. To see for myself.”
“And?” Thirteen — Lau
reyna — asked. “Are you satisfied with what you found?”
“Satisfied is not the word I would use.”
She shook her head, her look telling him better than words that she thought he was crazy.
As she led him down the hall to his new room, he wasn’t sure she was wrong.
Afterword
Wow, book three! I remember twelve years ago when I was drafting the first version of Pirate Nemesis. That version bears little resemblance to the one published today, and I had no idea then that I would plan a huge series and a bunch of side novellas for the universe. I have big plans for this series in 2020, with two more full length books due to come out, as well as more of the Swag Stories, which can be read (or not) alongside the main series.
Speaking of which, if you haven’t yet read them, the Swag Stories are “extras”, novellas that deal with side characters or side stories in the pirate universe which don’t specifically impact the main story, but can still be fun and interesting to read. Want to know what’s happening with Nayla? There’s a Swag Story for that — soon to be more than one. Yes, I have a second Nayla novella coming in 2020, title as yet unannounced.
Clearly, this book does not end the pirates’ adventures. Thank you so much for giving my pirates a chance, and for sticking with them this far. I hope you’re here for the whole ride.
This book contains some pretty big reveals about plot points that readers have been wondering about since book one. I love reviews, I hope you are willing to leave a review on your favorite platform, but I would ask that you not spoil the big reveal at the end, i.e., Mercy’s Mom, so that other readers can also be surprised when they read it for the first time.
Also, I’d like to take this time to talk briefly about some questions I’m likely to get regarding the next book, Pirate War. You may notice that Mercy is not featured on the cover. Don’t worry, she’s in the book. But, for the next couple of books the focus will be shifting slightly. In the epilogue you just read, I’m sure you noticed that Treon is not in a good spot, and now we know a bit more about who Thirteen is. They will be taking more of the central stage in the next book as that situation is dealt with. Mercy and her crew will still appear, however they will take a more secondary role for now. Never fear, once things resolve around Thirteen’s arc, Mercy will be back taking center stage again. This was always the plan. A bit unorthodox, I know, but this series is a big, sprawling epic space fantasy, with a huge cast of characters, and the scope of the story was always going to need to step away from Mercy to be told properly. Please, stick with me and keep reading. I promise, it will be worth it.
