Empire of Ashes: An Epic Space Opera Series (The Augmented Book 1)

by Ben Hale

  “You see what I mean?” Ero said to Brand. “But this is nothing compared to when she found out about Kelindor, or when Dragorn—that’s my father—was accused by Reckoning.”

  Hellina’s eyes flicked to Brand. “Out. Now.”

  The girl bowed her head and slipped away, casting an uncertain look back at Ero. But she’d done her job admirably, so he let her quick-walk her way to a different side door and slip through. When it shut behind her, Hellina returned her attention to Ero.

  “I expected a better greeting,” she said coldly.

  “Why?” Ero asked. “What makes you think you deserve a better greeting?”

  “Because I am your mother—and a royal.”

  “You betrayed the first, and I don’t care about the last.”

  “You should,” she said. “Because you need me.”

  “What do you want?” Ero leaned his back against the railing and motioned to the gardens. “To gloat at what you have kept while our House has fallen?”

  “I want to save you.”

  Ero scoffed at her words, anger suddenly rising on his tongue. “You want to save yourself. You married Dragorn, the head of a powerful, rising House. You thought your ambitions would become reality—and then the House crumbled, and you had a choice: to stay with us or return to the Empire. We both know what you chose.”

  “Would you rather have had me fall with Bright’Lor?” she asked, her jaw tightening. “As a member of the Imperial line, I helped the children I could. As a member of a broken House, I would be helpless.”

  “You’re saying you abandoned us out of loyalty?” His incredulous tone drew a sneer from his mother.

  “Self-preservation is not a crime,” she said.

  “Perhaps it should be.”

  Ero was already regretting his choice to come. Hellina had always been conniving. It had been her defining characteristic in Ero’s youth. She’d spoken of her lineage with pride, and she often shared her shame that none of her children had possessed black eyes. Seeing her now made elicited a new sense of clarity.

  He hated his mother.

  The realization came as a surprise, not because she was rotten to the marrow of her bones, but because he’d never noticed it before. Turning about, he stepped to the Gate controls. His hand settled on the symbol to activate the Gate when she called out to him.

  “House Bright’Lor has enemies.”

  He paused and then turned to face her. “Every House has enemies.”

  “Not like this.” Hellina held his gaze, unmoving, regal. The woman exuded power with every look, every carefully positioned strand of black hair.

  “We’ve already fallen,” Ero said. “Our assets are sold to pay for Condemnation. Most of my brothers and sisters went with you, and others were fell to the side. There’s nothing else to take.”

  “Except blood.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  She raised her hand and pointed to his eyes. “They covet your eyes.”

  “Who? Why?”

  She motioned to her Bloodwall. “Leave us.”

  He gave a curt nod and retreated out of sight, leaving Ero alone with his mother. Hellina then tapped her holoview, and a faint buzz sounded in Ero’s ears. He recognized it as a muffling mech, to ensure that no devices could be used to overhear their conversation.

  “Paranoid much?” Ero asked.

  “The krey are a timeless race,” she said, ignoring him. “And legends are bountiful. One such legend speaks of the first krey that sat on the throne, and their blue eyes.”

  He snorted a laugh. “The Imperial line has always been black.”

  “That’s not actually true.”

  His scorn withered under the truth in Hellina’s eyes. The woman had been manipulative, cruel, and ambitious, but she was not usually dishonest. Was it really possible that House Bright’Lor had once held the throne?

  “House Bright’Lor is a young House,” he said. “They could never have held the throne.”

  “Houses rise and fall, but eyes stay forever.”

  It was an oft-quoted statement by many, even the Emperor himself. The phrase was spoken with amusement and warning in equal measure, and was a constant reminder that Houses could never be completely destroyed.

  He shook his head and looked out over the gardens. “You’re implying that blue eyes once held by the Imperial line—but that would make Dragorn the true Emperor? It’s not possible. There must be millions of archives telling of the ancient beginnings of the Krey Empire.”

  “History changes according to the writer,” she replied. “And when the current Imperial line rose to power, the House with blue eyes was eradicated, down to the last child. The truth was altered, and over time the slaughter was forgotten.”

  “There are krey that have lived for half a million years. We do not forget.” His thoughts flickered to Fatheron, the krey that had supposedly lived for a million years. Did he exist? Would he know the truth?

  “History has many secrets,” she said. “This just happens to be one of the greatest.”

  He grappled with what she was saying and wondered if it was a lie. But what did she want? How would such a lie be of benefit to her? More likely, telling him the truth gave her power.

  “You knew this when you married Dragorn,” he guessed.

  She did not answer, but she didn’t need to. Hellina’s ambitions had an almost religious fervor, and many of Ero’s siblings had followed her when Bright’Lor had fallen. The only reason she would have married outside the Imperial line was if it provided upward mobility within the Empire. She’d probably envisioned herself one day sitting on the throne. Finally she gave a curt nod.

  “I did.”

  “Did you tell Dragorn?” he asked.

  “Dragorn was a fool,” she said, her tone caustic. “He thought his House impervious to damage and refused to prepare safeguards in case of catastrophe. He could have prevented the fall of Bright’Lor, if he’d been willing to grow slower—but all he wanted was to rise in ranking. He was obsessed with status.”

  “And you’re different?”

  “I’m more subtle,” she said. “That’s why I’m here and your father is in prison.”

  “Why tell me all this?” he asked. “What do you have to gain?”

  She did not deny his veiled accusation. Instead, she swept her hand toward Throne. “Have you heard from your sister Sagrina?”

  “Not since the fall.”

  He’d never liked Sagrina. She’d been spiteful, angry, and manipulative—a lot like their mother. When Hellina had abandoned Bright’Lor, Sagrina had been the first to join her. The last Ero had heard, she’d been living in luxury on Throne.

  “She was killed in Diamond Towers last week,” Hellina said.

  “Killed?” He frowned. “You mean assassinated.”

  “It looked like an accident, but I suspect she was killed. I think the Empire has sent a Bloodblade to eliminate the remains of House Bright’Lor.”

  Bloodblade. The word sent a shudder through Ero’s lungs, both of excitement and fear. As a child, he loved reading of the Bloodblades, secret assassins wielded by the Emperor himself. They had once been Bloodwalls, but their identities were guarded, their assignments even more secret.

  The Empire’s assassins could be anyone: a dakorian employed by a House, a low-ranked officer, or even a Bloodwall in the military. They were wraiths, always hunting, always killing on behalf of the throne. Even the Burning Ghosts feared the Emperor’s Bloodblades.

  “Are they coming for me?” Ero asked.

  “I don’t believe so,” she said. “At least not yet. You and Skorn are still under the legal protection of a House. But they are systematically killing each of my sons and daughters that fled Bright’Lor’s fall. The deaths appear to be accidents, but I believe the assassin is just taking his time.”

  She spoke of her dead progeny with cold callousness, like they were rooms of a house that had been demolished. No regret. No sadness.
For some reason, he thought of Brand outside the door. She was one who felt keenly the loss of someone, and Ero wondered what it would be like to have a mother that loved him. The thought was laughable but still left a strange sadness in his throat.

  He’d heard of a few of the deaths, of course. Even though they were not part of House Bright’Lor, they were still related. For the first time, he began to believe Hellina’s claims.

  “Too many sudden deaths in a bloodline would draw attention,” Ero thought aloud. “You think the Emperor will try to kill Skorn and I through Condemnation.”

  “Probably.”

  “But why are we even a threat?” Ero said. “There’s only a handful of us, and it’s not like we have any power, not anymore. Unless you think they believe your claim about blue eyes once being royals.”

  “Power ebbs and flows,” she said. “And there are many powerful Houses that oppose the Emperor. They think he is building too large a military and will one day attempt to cast down the Houses.”

  “Because he does not have enough power already?” He snorted in disdain, and Hellina gave a wry smile.

  “Those with power do not like to feel threatened, and the Krey Empire has always existed on a delicate balance of authority between the Houses and the Emperor. If that power tilts to one side . . .”

  “There would be war.”

  He’d seen vids from the last war and even visited one of the worlds destroyed in the conflict. Just chunks of rock floating in space, debris from warships still drifting away from the cold core. Grogan lances sheared off and hovering next to cratered hulls.

  “The antagonistic Houses need a reason to publicly go against the Emperor,” Hellina said. “If there was a krey claiming to be the rightful heir to the throne, it would be a powerful excuse.”

  “And you want me to be that excuse?”

  “If you’re smart,” she said.

  “It would be smarter to just walk away,” Ero said. “I can rebuild House Bright’Lor to its former glory without you.”

  “If they’ll let you.”

  He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t think Kelindor was an accident.”

  Ero wanted to laugh at the absurd claim. She made it sound like the Empire had caused the Dark to be released because they thought the House of blue eyes to be a threat to the Emperor.

  “If we were such a threat, why didn’t the Empire move against us before our rise?” he asked. “We wait until we were ranked fourth?”

  “Did you never wonder why our House fought such opposition?” She crossed the platform and pointed out a window to the towers in the distance, just visible around the curvature of the city. “Dozens of Houses countered our growth at every turn. They didn’t know why, of course, but I have reason to believe the Emperor had a hand in their actions.”

  “But we managed to grow despite their intrigue.”

  Ero recalled the acquisition of their fourth world, through a coup orchestrated by his father. For all his faults, the man had a gift for turning other krey into traitors to their own House.

  “Dragorn was cunning.” She spoke with bitter admiration. “But his arrogance led to our downfall. He should have invested in more judges, ensuring our protection. Instead, he purchased another world, and another, his ambition forming the blade that cut his throat.”

  “You blame him for being ambitious?” Ero laughed scornfully. “You want to usurp the Emperor himself.”

  Her lips curled into a sneer at his words. “I may be ambitious, but I am also cautious. Your father brought about his own demise.”

  “What do you expect from me?” he demanded, abruptly tired of the conversation. “You want me to side with you? Leave House Bright’Lor to its fate and become your puppet?”

  “A puppet with power.”

  He stared at her, shocked by her bold assertion. She wanted him to claim power to the very throne and stand at the head of the coalition of Houses willing to go to war with the Empire. But he would be a target by the Emperor, and a puppet by the Houses.

  “You should have asked Skorn,” Ero said.

  “I did.”

  Her throat muscles contracted, her eyes as cold as he had ever seen. He imagined what had happened. She’d approached Skorn with the offer, her voice persuasive, her tale convincing. She would have appealed to his strategic mind and claimed to support him, to wish him as her ally.

  And Skorn had refused.

  The reason was obvious. Skorn was tactical and patient, with all their father’s strengths and none of the weaknesses. He was the obvious choice, but even he had seen the foolishness of the endeavor. Even if what she claimed about blue eyes were true—and Ero was not certain it was—his brother had seen the same result that Ero now imagined. A quick death.

  “Skorn is smarter than I.” Ero offered a short bow. “So I think I’ll follow his lead.”

  Hellina’s features hardened, the beauty fading into unadulterated rage. “You would deny me? I’m offering the entire Krey Empire.”

  “You offer what you do not have.”

  “You would remain with a dying House?” Her voice rose, breaking her veneer of rigid control. “I offer you luxury and wealth in place of squalor and poverty—yet you refuse? You have the intelligence of a slave.”

  The branded slave came to Ero’s mind, prompting a scornful sniff. “Compared to you, a slave has higher caliber.”

  Hellina’s chest heaved, her black eyes blazing like a dakorian hammer lance. She looked terrifying, as if she wanted to melt him with a glance. His mother, ready to destroy him because he would not be her puppet.

  Drawn to the conflict, her Bloodwall returned to the balcony. He advanced, casually drawing his hammer. The dakorian came to a halt when she raised a trembling hand.

  “No need to take his life now,” she said. “He’ll be dead in a year.”

  Ero swept his hands wide. “Better dead than living with a mother like you.”

  “Get his ferox slave.” She sneered at Ero. “They’re fit for each other.”

  The dakorian strode to the door. Opening it, he caught Brand by the back of her neck and shoved her to Ero. She stumbled but kept her feet. Ero slammed his hand on the rune, and the Gate activated, the silver light flowing beneath the arch. Without a word, he turned and departed with Brand, the portal taking him to the previous platform. He all but ignored the operator on the floating platform and Gated back to Grenedal.

  His return to his ship was a blur, and Brand wisely did not speak. Ero stepped out of the portal onto the Nova still fuming, and the light from the Gate dimmed. He wanted to strike the wall, to slam his fist into the seracrete plating until it shattered, or his hand broke. Instead, he stomped his way to the door. It swung open to reveal Skorn leaning against the wall on the other side of the corridor.

  Ero came to a halt, and for several long seconds, the two brothers regarded each other. Skorn, his eyes ever calculating, seemed more curious than angry. His eyes flicked to Brand, and the girl slipped around Ero and left. When she was gone, Skorn pointed to the Gate.

  “Well? Did you accept Hellina’s offer?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ero turned down the corridor and made his way to the helm. “How did you know?”

  Skorn followed his footsteps. “You really need to delete your messages.”

  “You read my beamcast?” He cast a look over his shoulder.

  “Always.”

  He chuckled sourly. “I should not be surprised.”

  “What did you expect?” Skorn asked. “We are engaged in highly illegal activities in an attempt to return a fallen House to power. I’m not leaving anything to chance.”

  Ero whirled and pointed a finger at his chest. “You should have told me about her offer.”

  “Why would I?” Skorn asked. “It’s a desperate plan by a desperate woman. And we don’t even know if what she claims is true.”

  Ero shook his head. “Hellina likes to manipulate othe
rs with the truth. I don’t think she’s lying.”

  “It’s not lying if she believes it’s true.”

  “So you think she’s been deceived?”

  Skorn shrugged and threaded around him to enter the bridge. “I don’t care. Her plan is fraught with risk. And I don’t want to gamble my future on the color of my eyes.”

  “You should have given me a warning.”

  Skorn smiled faintly as he reclined in the pilot’s seat. “Why? This was much more fun.”

  Ero claimed the pilot’s seat. “You knew she would come after me,” he accused.

  “Of course. The rest of our brothers and sisters lack the fortitude for such a dangerous endeavor, leaving just the two of us.”

  “What about Belgin?”

  Skorn actually laughed. “He’s crafty, but your branded slave has more charisma than he does. There’s no way she’d pick him.”

  “Leaving just me.”

  Skorn grinned. “I would have liked to see her face when you refused.”

  “How do you know I refused?” Ero countered.

  “You’re here, for one thing.” Skorn pointed to Ero. “And you’re not stupid, for a second. Only someone drunk with ambition would follow her idea.”

  “Like Dragorn.”

  “Exactly.” Skorn’s amusement faded as quickly as it had come. “But Hellina never really trusted our father. If he’d thought he had a claim on the throne, he would not have waited for the support of other Houses, he would have beamcast it to all the vids.”

  “And our House would have been destroyed in a year.” Ero leaned back in his chair. “You ever think about abandoning him and just going our own way? We could just leave him to his fate.”

  Skorn hesitated and then shrugged. “Of course I considered it.” He leaned over to check the flashing symbol on the panel. “But we need the protection of a House, especially if the Empire really is sending Bloodblades after us.”

  “You think that part’s true?”

  Skorn sat in the copilot’s seat. “I did some checking to confirm Hellina’s claims. Several of our former brothers and sisters—those who followed Hellina—have been killed in a series of accidents. Another three just disappeared, and I think it’s safe to assume they’re also dead.”