by Casey Lea
“Lady Darsey,” he rasped, “thank the Gods. Please make these lordlings listen.”
“Of course, dear. As soon as you lie down again.”
Crest's fingers tightened convulsively on hers. “Please, my Lady. No. I've saved my last metabolic shunt for this moment. Let me sit and if you can, hold these two silent.”
“Crest,” Wing began firmly, but Darsey laid her hand on his arm.
“Hush,” she murmured and then gave Free a look when his mouth opened. He subsided too and they all turned their attention to Crest.
“Thank you.” His head wobbled in a respectful nod and silence fell. “Where to start? I think... with my greatest shame and then my greatest failure, since this seems somewhat likely to be my last confession.” Silence fell and the glow of a full-power com field flared around the old retainer's wrist in cell churning urgency. Crest stopped tipping forward and sat straight again, then smiled down at the three figures crouched on the floor in front of him.
“What fine children you are. The best a guardian could ever wish for.” He stopped again, clearing his throat and his hands grew still to rest on each knee. “My shame then is all the worse, for I have kept things from you. Vital things. I have held secrets since before you were born.”
Wing stirred uneasily. “What do you mean by secrets?” he asked, but Darsey shushed him.
Crest nodded in gratitude and continued. “Can you imagine a time so far past? Not so far in time, less than a century, but so very different in every other way. Just two hundred years earlier the kres Empire had collided with the Harvesters and then the t'ssaa. We were beset on all sides and the great Arck Hawkeye had been forced to spend most of his life in battle. Fortunately he was a gifted leader and tactician. He saved us all from death or slavery. But at a cost to himself. He suffered many wounds and entered the Ageing early, before he was even four hundred.”
Darsey shifted on her knees, but quickly stilled and managed to stifle a yawn. Ancient history had never been her favorite.
Crest chuckled at her discomfort and leaned closer to hold her eye. “However, by luck he already had a son who showed all of his father's aptitude for war. That boy was Sharpeye and he grew to adulthood helping defend our new worlds. He fought alongside his father and was in his prime, a mere two hundred and twelve when death finally approached for Hawkeye.”
“But he didn’t die then,” Free interrupted and Crest clucked in annoyance.
“Of course not, something amazing happened first. The Arkyss conceived again and another son was born. There was much celebration, but even more three years later when a daughter finally arrived. Princess Nightshade, the true heir to the throne, was born mere months before her father's death. The Arkyss entered mourning and returned to her home world.” Crest shifted slightly to look between Wing and Free. “She promoted me to become head of her household and it was my great Honor to watch your parents grow.”
Crest stopped and his face sagged further. “They were so lovely. Sweet, smart and truly great of heart. They led fine lives, far from Kresynt and the Court where their elder brother held sway as Regent. Outwardly he still accepted Wing's mother as the true heir, but his strength grew with every battle won. He stopped consulting his young sister on anything, even though she was approaching fifty and ready to be crowned. She needed to confront him in person, before the Thousand and claim the throne, despite the danger of leaving her home world. She was ready to do such and face the risk, except-”
The old man sighed and subsided, slumping into himself.
“Except what?” Darsey prompted and his eyes focused on them again.
“Children, of course. The great challenge of all kres to conceive. The need was far more urgent than usual. Sharpeye was passing increasingly sweeping laws and creating new bureaucracies on every world. Bureaus that looked only to him. Nightshade needed to produce an heir who could stay safe on our home world while she returned to Kresynt to reclaim the throne.”
“Whoa, whoa, wait.” Darsey jumped to her feet and put her hands on her hips. “Is this about the True Succession? Because Harrier mentioned that, but I still don’t get it. How come Wing’s mom was supposed to inherit the throne instead of her two older brothers?”
“Because she was female,” the old retainer explained, which left Darsey still perplexed.
“Isn’t that sexist?”
“Indeed not,” Crest bridled and his fronds snapped indignantly. “It balances over the generations. A female Arck ideally leaves her throne to a son, who in turn passes it to a daughter. That maximizes the royal genes inherited and ensures an equal gender mix of past rulers. The throne would have gone to Sharpeye by default, until his younger sister was born when he was two-hundred-and-eighteen. I imagine it was rather galling to him, but no excuse for a coup.”
Crest stopped for breath and glowered at Darsey’s waist until she flopped back onto her knees in front of him.
“My tale is not yet complete, my Lady. Unfortunately a son, or indeed any child, proved elusive for Arkyn Nightshade. We were forced to turn to the BGP for help. Lady Grace had great experience with such things and soon had the Arkyn with child. That was you, of course, Wing. However, an amazing thing occurred. Your early growth happened in another body, one more favorable to conception than your mother's. Once you were formed, the ball of cells that would soon be an embryo was removed and implanted in Nightshade instead. Fortune favored us and the pregnancy progressed well, but so did that of your surrogate mother.”
The old kres fell silent and so did the others. Darsey was left to state the obvious. “Huh?”
“The surrogate carrier was still with child after Wing’s removal. Lady Grace discovered that some cells had shed when the fetus was taken. Those cells then continued to grow. Such a thing was unknown to kres. We never bear twins, so it was a deep shock to all, but it was truly so. Freefall was also conceived. He was carried by Senior Healer Swallow, who married Nightshade’s beloved middle brother, Dive. It was a marriage of convenience, to hide Free’s true parentage, but they were happy. You two were consequently raised as cousins, but have always been more."
Crest paused, presumably waiting for an outcry, but there was only silence. Darsey looked from Wing to Free and back again. Wing was frowning, while his cousin - no, his brother - seemed sad and bemused.
Is this senility? Free silently asked the two beside him and Wing flinched.
Certain-sure.
Darsey could hardly believe her frond. “Oh, for heaven's sake. Wing, we had twins of our own. Of course it's possible, especially with the support a com field gives every cell in the body.”
Her husband shook his finger and his jaw set. Why did he have to be so stubborn about everything? “Why are we not identical then?”
Darsey hesitated. “Well, ah, that's a good question.”
They all looked back to Crest, who seemed tired, but perfectly sane. “Indeed. It appeared that when Lady Grace shifted Wing to his mother's womb she added several genes. She was coy about her aims and claimed they would simply aid his survival, but she certain-sure tampered.”
Wing was instantly on his feet and striding away, making Darsey jump. Crest wobbled on his perch, but when Darsey reached for him he raised a reassuring hand. "I'm well, my Lady, no need to fret. I've seen that one start pacing before - far too often to be shocked. His body has to protest every time he tries to think." They shared a smile and he patted her hand. "Thank you for believing. It's a strange thing for us kres, but these two are more than brothers. They share so much... they're almost identical twits."
"That's twins," Darsey corrected gently and Crest winked at her.
"Are you sure?"
She started to laugh, but it caught in her throat and came out as a sob. "I'm sorry," she whispered and Crest patted her hand again.
"Truly, so am I. I've lived long and happy and I don't want you saddened by my death."
"But we are," Free said hoarsely. "Saddened and lessened." He rose and se
ttled on the bed beside Crest, placing an arm around his shoulders again. The old retainer sniffed noisily and gestured for Wing to come closer. Darsey's husband obeyed at once, stalking to join them instead of turning away again.
"There's more?" he asked in a clipped tone and Crest chuckled.
"I thought you'd be angry that I'd kept this from you. Thank you for being honest about it. You should both be as mad as razorbacks, but I fear your brother will give me a free pass." He chuckled again and Darsey looked away. Her old friend's face was sagging so badly it looked like the skin was sloughing and his eyes were far too bright. This final confession was burning him out.
"You should rest," she blurted and felt his disappointment in her.
"My sweet, I've plenty of rest ahead. Let me do this. I've one more secret... I needs must share. About my boys. Free, Wing... your parents. Their deaths were no accident."
Crest subsided into a gasping silence while his audience absorbed that. Wing stepped back as if to pace away, but then sank to a crouch to hold Crest's gaze. "Sharpeye?"
"Of course. Your mother entrusted you both... to me and flew to Kresynt. To ascend the throne. She never made it."
"Are you sure it was him?"
"Certain-sure. We made a dreadful... mistake. Sent most of our security on to Kresynt. But she was hit... before even reaching the ship. Still on a shuttle. Leaving her home world... her sanctuary. We found the traitor and he confessed. But nothing could be done. Trying to push your claim... would have killed us all. Sharpeye would. So, I never told you. Didn't want you hurt. Doing something dumb."
Wing slammed his fists into the wooden floor and something cracked, then splintered. "I almost made that motherdrakker my father-in-law. And you still didn't tell me." His voice was raw and Crest started shaking, but sat forward undaunted.
"Of course I didn't, chick. Look at you. All anger and hurt. You would have run straight at Sharpeye with that. And died."
Wing's jaw set. "Perhaps. But it would have given me a goal within the Empire and I would have stayed. Then maybe I might have been smart enough, devious enough and bloody-minded enough to bring the gat down."
"You were too young."
"We'll never know." Wing finally rose and walked away, but Free had something to add.
"If we'd been told about Sharpeye, you wouldn't have left Kresynt and Darsey would have been murdered by pirates."
That possibility brought Darsey up short and for a moment Greon's silver boots were all that she could see. Tapping the ground in front of her nose while she lay on the floor of his bedroom. She shuddered. The Bandit's Leader would certainly have killed her. She shivered again and Wing's arms closed around her. She settled into the hug with a sigh. "Thanks for saving my life."
"One of my better deeds," he murmured into her hair and she could feel his anger leaching away. It dripped back into a pool of pain and she held him close. It was nice to be together for once, but then she remembered why Wing had left the fleet and felt guilty. This reunion wasn’t a happy one. She pushed out of the embrace and he let her go, turning back to the bed too.
"Attend," Crest coughed and smiled when the couple settled at his feet again. He patted Free's thigh and managed a breathy chuckle. "I do like this. Should have died years past. Wing. The Shadows support your claim. They would make you Arck. And many others stand with them."
Darsey rocked back on her heels as she finally understood where this confession was leading. They wanted Wing to challenge Sharpeye. That was crazy. Had anyone actually thought it through? It would make her an empress, but would the kres even accept an alien queen? And would she ever see her workaholic spouse again?
"No," Wing said to Crest with quiet certainty. "Free is the true heir-"
“What?” Freefall bounced from the bed and Wing came to his feet to meet him.
“Think on it. You're the unaltered one. You carry the real genes of the royal line.”
“No, no, never. Don’t try to place this on me. You were carried in the heir's womb and environment matters too.”
Wing took a deep breath and his frown vanished. “Trust me, I'm not trying to push you into anything. I just need to know, do you want this? At all? Because it could be yours and you'd be an awesome arck.”
Free's eyes were wide and his nostrils flared. “NO. Did I say that clear enough? I've always done my duty, but not this. Never this. Please don't tell them, Wing. If you care for me at all-”
“Free.” Wing clapped both hands on his brother's shoulders. “All's well. This isn't your burden. If you truly don’t want it that’s fine and sensible-plus. I don’t either. Let's take down Sharpeye and then leave the Empire to sort for itself. Our responsibility is to the Alliance. We need to care for all the people we convinced to build this society with us. True?”
Free grinned and clasped Wing's shoulders too. “Indeed.”
“Guys,” Darsey said softly, but they didn't seem to hear her.
“We need to end Sharpeye soon. He's had long enough on a throne he stole.”
“Wing...” Darsey tried, with no result.
“The Empire will thank us,” Free agreed.
“Wing! Free!” They finally looked around to where Darsey was sitting on the bed. Crest lay beside her, slightly spread eagled, just as he had fallen. His empty eyes stared at the ceiling, until Darsey gently closed them. He had kept the brothers safe, but would never see either of them try to claim a throne.
24
War
Arck Sharpeye FarFlight, ruler of the kres Empire lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. He pulled his sheet up to his chin and smoothed it flat. Words wafted past him.
“Sire, you really should drink something. Your com is struggling to keep you hydrated.”
Someone leaned on the bed and tugged the sheet lower while offering him a glass. Sharpeye looked straight through the liquid it held. Water. How stupid. As if water could help. Minutes passed and the glass was withdrawn.
Sharpeye lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He pulled the sheet back up to his chin and smoothed it flat. Perhaps he should just pull it over his face. There was nothing to look at. More words floated across the bed.
“Has he spoken yet?”
The speaker sounded concerned, but he knew the anxiety in that familiar voice was a lie. How Goldown would love to steal his throne. It must gall her that he lay here, feigning death, but still outwardly alive. He smiled and smoothed the sheet.
“Patri?” His daughter settled on the bed and he tugged irritably at the dislodged sheet. He'd make her regret that. As soon as his energy returned. “I've more news of Hawkeye's killer. The second forensics team confirmed that the body in the garden was his. He's certain-sure dead. Isn't that good?”
Something stirred in Sharpeye. There were still answers to be had. “Who?”
“There's no doubt. It was Falkyn IceFlight. A son of Nightwing.”
She squirmed closer and the sheet was pulled from his hands, but he didn't care. He must have misheard. That name was gone and forgotten, just like its owner.
“I'm sorry, Patri, but it's true. Both Nightwing and Freefall survived their exile. They infiltrated the palace with the Alliance delegation. They were here and doubtless Hawkeye's death was their plot.”
Sharpeye's mouth worked, until the grinding of his teeth drowned the constant humming in his head. Nightwing. His most hated enemy was behind this. His own nephew had deceived him, passed his security and ripped out his heart. How Sharpeye regretted the mercy he had shown that boy. He should never have let the child live. Pain shot through his jaw and he finally realized how badly he was grating his teeth.
Sharpeye twisted his head to study the mask that was his daughter's worried face. He looked at her and his mouth locked completely. She was different. She followed his gaze and studied her lap with a sweet smile. She had to, since there was no way she could see past it. Her belly was too swollen for that. “Are you..?”
“Yes, Patri. I'm with child.”
/>
The room spun and a more urgent humming filled The Arck's head. He had thought it was only hours since Hawk was taken from him. Days at most. “How long?”
“Just a week. We decided to accelerate the pregnancy-”
The humming was so shrill Sharpeye had to force his voice over it. “Who is we? Who induced you to take such a risk with my grandchild?”
Goldown rose from the bed and curtsied deeply. “My husband, Sire. Blizzard Haven. The wedding was the day after Hawkeye's death. You were comatose and I needed consolation. The High Council ratified it. They hoped we would replenish the family line and they were right.”
Sharpeye threw back the sheets and rose to stand over his daughter. “Yet you risked that family line with a foolish acceleration of cell division.”
“Sire, I thought-”
He laughed at that, but tapped Goldown's shoulder, signaling her to stand. “Is the child well?”
“She's perfect, Patri.”
“Hmmm.” Sharpeye belatedly noticed that the hum had escaped his head. He clamped his jaw again and studied the room. It was surprisingly full. Healers, assistants and guards milled around the chamber. Wonderful. He always had such an unsettling effect on people. He glided to the single chair that stood in the middle of the room and settled himself. “Show me this husband.”
Goldown beckoned and a rather short lord with a narrow face stepped forward and bowed low. Sharpeye stared in surprise. Wasn't that the awkward Haven boy? The one Nightwing was always picking on- ah. Perhaps the chick would prove useful for more than breeding.
“Rise, rise.” Sharpeye studied his new son-in-law over steepled fingers. “Hmmm-” The Arck stopped and closed his eyes. Had he been humming out loud again? Curse the old BGP witch and her use of mermaridian genes. Death by explosion had been far too easy for her, but at least she was gone, even if his nephews somehow were not. His mind hummed with anticipation and he returned to examining Blizzard.
