* * *
Phrinnis Tampirus
Rigo was adept at reading situations, I learned quickly. He and Ilya returned from their visit to Weir's compound, saying that Weir's chief warlock had left the planet, and that most of his remaining warlocks would probably follow suit.
Rigo also said Weir would attempt to bargain with us as a result, thinking we wouldn't know of his power-wielders' defection.
Weir contacted me that evening, after dinner. I imagine it had taken him that long to contain his anger and present a civil face to me.
"We are strong, but have a common enemy," he began, his voice both fawning and persuasive. "Vardil Cayetes is on his way to take this world. If we stand together, we can easily take him down. This will leave Paricos II in our hands, to be divided as we see fit."
"Why didn't you offer this as an option before you killed all the other bosses and attempted to kill me?" I asked. "Or was that merely a miscalculation on your part? You thought to get rid of all of us, then command what you'd taken from us to fight Cayetes. You want Paricos II and what Cayetes commands. Are you willing to share that, too?"
A bit of Weir's genial façade slipped and brief anger shone in his eyes. He was willing to share Paricos II, but Cayetes' empire he wanted for himself. What would Paricos II matter in the face of such wealth as Cayetes held?
It wasn't difficult to parse his thoughts on this; allow my army to do the heavy lifting against Cayetes, while he plotted ways to get rid of me and take the army I apparently held.
I wanted to laugh in his face and tell him the army acted on their own in this matter, and I had no say in any of it. In fact, I imagined that if Weir could manage to kill Cayetes, the army residing in my compound would turn their sights on him afterward.
It was as if they'd been waiting patiently for this opportunity to destroy his empire, and they'd suddenly been given permission to act on that desire.
Dragon and Crane, with Dragon's sons and grandsons, wore determined expressions constantly and refused to accept anything other than the best from those around them, whether it was training, cleaning their weapons or maintaining armor.
I could see some of those who'd abandoned Weir taking to Dragon's command like a reptagator to a swamp. Perhaps they'd never had the opportunity to follow anyone who acted honorably, before.
Dragon kept strict discipline among the troops, whether powerful or not. Even the lowest among them could expect to be treated fairly. No wonder the tales of the Dragon Warlord survived thousands of years; he was worthy.
"I said, what's your answer?" Weir snapped. He'd already asked the question while my mind wandered.
"The answer, now and always, will be no. If you wish to engage Cayetes, then keep your army where it is. I imagine it won't make a difference in the end. Send them against me now, they die. Fight Cayetes, they die later. The choice is yours."
Weir shouted curses at me before ending the transmission. I smiled at his tantrum. Like a spider in a sealed jar, he was caught and helpless—and he knew it.
* * *
Cayetes' Compound
Hulce
At first, I created devices for Cayetes that wouldn't work, or would short out if used more than once.
V'ili came after that, and ordered me to only make the best quality devices.
I was forced to obey. With tears leaking from my eyes more often than not, I made device after device for Cayetes, who intended harm against others with each one. I wept for them—those nameless, faceless souls who'd die.
I wept most of all for Devarr, who'd died with Carek Prime. I could never love anyone as much as I loved him. I'd sold a device after he emptied the treasury to save Carek Prime. I'd been paid a great deal; I felt sure Tamp would keep the device safe, and Carek Prime would be saved from destitution.
As it turned out, that was impossible.
Devarr and I—we'd both made mistakes with those devices. I wished that I'd never designed them to start with.
I'd attempted to create a shield to contain the areas where the poison spread on Carek Prime.
Instead, I'd created an unspeakable horror. Devarr had paid the ultimate price for the horror I'd built.
I was still paying my price, and, with V'ili's commands, would continue to do so as long as I lived.
I prayed to anyone listening for help, but there was no response. Perhaps it was a punishment for my treachery. Therefore, I changed my prayer to this; destroy Cayetes and his minion, V'ili, before they destroy everything else.
* * *
Zaria
I knew where and when Cayetes' pirates had attacked the passenger ship and kidnapped the wealthy aboard it.
That was my next stop.
I didn't intend to interfere with the kidnapping, or anything else. I merely intended to follow those victims in the moves Cayetes forced upon them, until they arrived in the present day.
Then I would act.
The die had been cast on Paricos II. Soon enough, those gathered at Tamp's compound would wave their bait in front of Cayetes' nose.
I was about to confuse Cayetes further.
After that, I only had a few other things to take care of.
Those things would require my utmost care, so as not to disturb the timelines.
I wanted to shiver at the worst-case scenario, but shoved it out of my mind instead. I refused to sow the seeds of failure into any part of this.
* * *
Queen's Palace, Le-Ath Veronis
Wellend
"I feel guilt that we didn't think to follow Edden and Berel," Warlend, my father, sighed.
"They said they wanted to listen to the people, without interference," I reminded him.
"I know. We could have followed at a distance, though—close enough to pull them away when the moment came."
"Yes." I allowed my shoulders to droop and struggled to work tension kinks from both. "I sometimes feel the same. You have no idea how many times I've argued with myself about it, too."
"Survivor's guilt." Devarr of Carek Prime walked into the library where father and I sat, having our discussion. "I got this from the kitchen staff," he held up a bottle of bourbon. "Sometimes, this helps—even if it's only a little. Want to join me? I understand you can employ power to bring your own glass."
He set his borrowed glass on a low table with a thump before pulling the cork from the bottle and pouring a generous portion for himself.
"I'll have some," Father Pulled in two glasses—in case I wanted some, too.
"I'll join you," I agreed. "Let's hope it helps."
"I can't help thinking of what I did to cause this," Devarr swallowed half his bourbon. "And of what else I might have done to save my planet and its people."
"We only managed to get a few of your people away," I admitted. "We were near the kitchen at the time, so those were the ones we could save with the time we had."
"I am grateful," Devarr sighed and sipped more bourbon. "For what you and Master Rigo managed to accomplish on my behalf."
"You know Rigo's a vampire, don't you?" I asked.
"I learned that, yes."
"Did you know he was also Rigovarnus I, from Hraede? He was King long ago on that world."
"Then I will be more careful with my titles where he is concerned." Devarr emptied his glass and poured more bourbon.
"Don't worry about that—he left that behind long ago, as did we," Father admitted.
"Who?" Devarr asked.
"We were once Kings of Karathia." Father's half smile was tempered with bitterness. Without Zaria's help, we would have died long ago in the coup staged against us. "Nowadays," Father continued, "we no longer recognize that title, or who we were at that time, so many things have come to pass since."
"Who was at fault in this coup you speak of? Was it you?"
"No, unless you consider it our fault that we were born with a lower level of power than some of our murderous relatives," I said. I didn't add that people looked at us differently, n
ow—as if we'd been afflicted with skin-rot or something. For us, the world we'd known had changed dramatically and would never be the same.
"Then let us make a toast to bitterness, and how it scrapes wounds across your soul," Devarr held up his glass.
"To bitterness," I said and raised my glass. Father's glass chinked against mine, and then against Devarr's. "May our scars fade, some day."
* * *
Siriaa, Distant Past
Zaria
I watched from a distance as Liron stood in the massive glass bowl of Avii Castle. It was uninhabited, still, but he was preparing for their arrival.
Soil and grass had been brought in for animals to graze and trees and gardens to grow. What fascinated me was what Liron was doing after that.
He'd brought another huge mound of slag glass from Ranos, and now was fashioning spheres from it—large and small.
I knew what he planned to do with some of the larger ones. Those would be dealt with in the future.
The smaller ones he made, however; I watched the pile of those build with a feeling akin to greed.
Was he counting them? I only needed him to turn my way so I could read it in his face.
I waited.
And waited. His back was turned to me as he focused on the task of creating the spheres. The Orb would supply a saving sphere each time to the Avii Queen in the future, and those red-winged queens would never see the secret room Liron built near the base of the castle.
Only Quin, Lissa and I had seen the inside of it later.
Time passed; I had no idea how long I stood there, hidden behind a shield I'd created, and another created by the device I held. Far to the south, thunder rumbled. Liron turned sharply at the noise.
He wasn't counting small spheres, and an approaching storm meant nothing to him. He went back to his work.
I waited again, until he was lost in what he was doing. Cautiously, I approached. The piles of spheres were now so large that they'd started rolling off the top and scattering across the grass.
I calculated how many I would need, and ended up taking twice that number as Liron worked on the pile of slag glass that remained in front of him.
Thunder rumbled again and I froze where I was, hoping he wouldn't notice the spheres I'd pulled away.
* * *
Paricos II
Revis' Rock
Ilya
"Weir's army is on the way, and it's raining," Halimel walked into the kitchen where Bleek and I sat, having a late lunch after drilling troops in blade practice.
"He's going against us, because we'll be more lenient than Cayetes, no doubt," Bleek wadded his napkin and tossed it onto the table with a grimace.
"Better to die a quick death than a drawn out, painful one," Halimel agreed. "Cayetes isn't known for being kind to those who've crossed him."
"He's the example for all in carrying a grudge," Bleek acknowledged. "Shall we, brothers?" He rose from his seat and stretched all four arms.
"With pleasure, brother," Halimel nodded.
* * *
Queen's Palace, Le-Ath Veronis
Lissa
"Weir's army is attacking Tamp's compound," I informed Perdil. "I just heard from Dragon. He's arranging his army for effectiveness against what Weir is bringing with him."
"Will there be problems?" Perdil asked.
"There shouldn't be—Dragon has more than enough to take out a huge army, tanks and weapons included."
"Are you forgetting Liffel's Proverb?" he asked.
"Liffel's Proverb?"
"What can go awry usually does," Perdil quoted.
"Oh. We call that Murphy's law, where I'm from."
"Who's Murphy?"
"No idea."
"Then yours is invalid. Everyone knows Liffel is the father of the Liffelithi Dwarves."
"Whether he's real or not, he's dead," I pointed out. "Murphy's law in action."
"He died in battle," Perdil countered.
"My case in point," I said.
"He was four hundred eighty-five years old. Not as spry as he once was."
"Now, that's just making excuses."
"It was logical that he wouldn't live through the battle, yet he went anyway. Very brave, in my opinion."
"That has nothing to do with Murphy's law, which can apply to any situation."
"This is like sorting sand by size," he tossed up a hand.
"Is that another Liffel proverb?"
"Maybe. I refuse to say for certain." Perdil walked toward my study door.
"Want to go to Niff's with me?"
He turned back swiftly, a wide grin on his face. "I thought you'd never ask," he said.
* * *
Cayetes' Private Quarters
V'ili
"You're sure the larger devices will conceal an entire fleet of ships?" Vardil asked.
"We've tested them—they work magnificently," I said. "Those replication bots we stole have been worth the effort," I added. "They were given the specifications provided by Hulce, and then created larger versions in a fraction of the time."
"Good. Will you transport me to my command ship, then?" Vardil asked. "These devices will keep me safe enough, I think. It's time we paid Weir a visit. The best part is that he'll never see us coming."
* * *
The Big House, Avendor
Quin
"Master Morwin, how are you?" I asked. "Barc my love, I've missed you." Both had come to the solarium where I'd chosen to sit and watch the exotic birds that flitted past the wide windows.
"I miss Berel," Barc came to me immediately and wrapped his arms about me.
"I miss Berel, too," I whispered against his hair as I hugged him close.
"Can I sit with you for a while? Master Morwin said no lessons for two more days."
"Of course. I was watching the birds fly past," I said. "And was trying to name the different kinds."
"I studied that with Master Morwin," Barc pulled away and blinked at me with misty, dark eyes.
So much like his father, was Barc.
"Then why don't you tell me what kind of bird it is, when one flies past," I pulled him toward my seat. Morwin nodded to me and left the solarium as Barc and I settled on the wide sofa.
"Your feathers," Barc pointed to a bare patch on one of my wings.
"They'll grow back," I said. "The pin feathers are beginning to itch, though."
"No, Quinnie," he said. "I can see a new feather poking out here," he touched my wing with two hands. "Where you can't see," he added. "It looks dark."
"What?" I stood again and struggled to pull my wing around.
"Here," Barc pointed to the pin feather in question.
It looked quite dark against the white feathers that hadn't dropped.
Soon, it would be time for Ordin to roll pin feathers. What would he say if my wings were truly turning black—or brown?
What did this mean?
I wanted to wail for Justis, but he was tending to business at Avii Castle. With my hands and body shaking, I sat beside Barc again and wrapped my arms about him, the exotic birds of Avendor forgotten as I held him close.
* * *
Queen's Palace, Le-Ath Veronis
Lissa
Perdil and I had just returned from Niff's, and both of us held half-eaten treats in our hands as I folded us into my study.
I should be used to seeing envelopes dropping onto my desk from nothing, but it startled me anyway and I jumped.
I went still when I saw my name spelled out in that particular handwriting. I'd only seen it once before, and that was when Zaria, who'd once been known as Corinne on Earth, had sent me a time-traveling message, designed to be delivered at a specific place and time.
Right after she'd separated her own particles.
Setting my cup of ice cream on my desk with a shaking hand, I lifted the envelope and opened it.
Lissa, the message read, You will find the kidnapped victims at these coordinates. Take Wellend and Warlend
with you, and Perdil if he wishes to go. The time to rescue them is now.
* * *
Wellend
"I don't know why Zaria wants you to go," Lissa said as she handed me a ranos pistol. Father, who'd folded into my suite the moment Lissa screamed our names, took his pistol with a nod.
Behind Lissa stood Perdil, who had a short blade strapped to his back and a pistol in a holster at his hip. His height didn't compare to his determination, and any who thought to engage him could die swiftly.
"I'm ready," Father said.
"I, too," I nodded.
"Good. Let's get the hell out of Dodge," Lissa breathed and folded us away.
* * *
Paricos II
Revis' Rock
Ilya
"What in the name of the bloody god are they waiting for?" Bleek asked. He stood beside me on the parapet overlooking the outer wall of Revis' former compound.
Weir's army had come to us, but stopped marching forward roughly half a mile away. Bleek and I watched as tents were put up and soldiers in the distance checked vehicles and war machines.
Dragon held our army back; it wasn't his intention to start this war. He merely waited for Weir to make the first move.
Once Weir arrived, making a move looked to be an afterthought.
"What is he waiting for?" Tamp joined us at our lookout.
"No idea. You'd think he was on a picnic instead of starting a war he can't win."
"He's negotiating with three replacement warlocks, that's what," Halimel materialized next to Tamp.
"Nice to have a mister on board," Tamp grinned at Hal.
"It makes espionage so much simpler," Hal chuckled.
"How long do you think this will take?"
"No idea. I had to hover over Weir's shoulder as he communicated with the warlocks on his comp-vid—they can sense his desperation and are holding out for more money."
"Always the same," Bleek shook his head.
"It's expected," I shrugged. "I held out for more money."
"He did," Tamp agreed. "Velker was hot over it."
"Fuck Velker," I said.
"Velker is fucked—and dead," Bleek reminded me.
"I wish I'd been there to see the look on his face as he died," I said. "Zaria wouldn't give me the images—she said it was gross. Satisfying, but gross."
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