Of Dawn and Darkness

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Someone’s in there,” Calder said.

No one wasted his time with questions or complaints. Andel looked at Foster, who shrugged and pulled open the door to the Emperor’s quarters.

A goat-legged Imperial Guard lay sprawled on the carpet inside, papers strewn all about him where he’d dropped them. He’d been conscious only a minute before, and there was little chance he’d taken that instant to pass out on his own. Someone else was inside.

Nothing beats the satisfaction of being right. Together, Calder and Andel rushed in quietly, hauling the Imperial Guard out the door and back into the courtyard. The blond captain looked likely to shout, so Calder shook his head.

According to Calder’s silent, frantic signals, his crew shut the doors.

“What’s the security like in this building?” Calder whispered.

“It’s usually a death-trap for anyone inside,” the Guard captain responded, her eyes locked on the door. “But it’s been uninhabited for years. I need men.”

“Go get them. Capture, not kill. And send someone to inform Teach.”

She saluted and ran off, shouting before she was quite out of earshot.

“Who do you think it is, sir?” Andel asked, folding his arms and watching the door.

“Consultants,” Calder said. Someone had already hired a Champion to take a crack at him. Why not a real assassin? “They killed Maxeus a couple of days ago, and now they’re working up the ladder.”

Foster drew a weapon, holding it low in both hands. “You’re not real humble, are you?”

“‘Humility is the death-knell of the soul,’” Calder quoted. “Enterius, I think.”

“Loreli had some views of her own on the matter,” Andel said. He didn’t sound particularly alarmed by the idea of a Consultant waiting for them in the Emperor’s chambers. “‘Humility is the perfection that we should always seek, but can never truly achieve.’”

“You were a Luminian; obviously you’d take her side.”

“I wasn’t aware you’d been in a dispute with the Regent, sir.”

That actually raised an interesting point. He’d always thought of Loreli as a strategist and scholar from the ancient past, not a contemporary. But she hadn’t ever died, not really, and she was currently awake and serving the Empire as a Regent.

She didn’t want another Emperor. What did that say about—

His unproductive train of thought was broken by the Guard captain’s return. “They’re taking up position,” she said. “I suggest we remove you to a safe location.”

“Thank you, Captain, but I decline.” Calder pulled off his hat and swept her a bow. “I’m wearing my own clothes today, I’m hanging out with my own friends—”

Foster coughed pointedly.

“—my own colleagues, and I’ll handle this the way I usually would.”

“Foolishly, but directly,” Andel said.

“I would have said ‘bravely.’”

“I’m sure you would have, sir.”

Honestly, Calder was in a better mood than he’d been in for…weeks, probably. His wounds were starting to improve, though they were also starting to itch, he was finally feeling at home in the Imperial Palace, he thought he was making headway in his identity as Imperial Steward, and for the first time he was faced with an assassin that he’d outwitted and overmatched from the very beginning.

“I have to insist,” the Guard captain was saying. “We have no idea who the enemy is, what he wants, or what he can—”

She was interrupted by the deafening shriek of tearing metal, which filled the courtyard as one of the Emperor’s bronze doors crumpled like a used handkerchief.

Calder was still trying to figure out how to react to the sight of a balled-up door when it began to roll, with ponderous force and surprising speed, away from its housing and straight toward him.

He dove to the side as Andel and Foster did likewise, the three of them separated by a loose ball of bronze. Something exploded—a gunshot, he realized, close to his ear—and then a dark-skinned man in the black of a Consultant Gardener was slashing a bronze knife toward his waist.

Calder staggered back, grasping at his sword, but he knew he wouldn’t make it. The assassin was too close, too fast, his approach too unexpected.

Andel moved first.

He slammed into the Gardener with a running shoulder-tackle that sent the man rolling over the tiles, bronze blades clattering away from his hands.

Calder looked at Andel with relief and more than a little astonishment. “You saved me, Andel.”

The quartermaster was still on his knees, unbalanced after the tackle, but his eyes were on the Consultant. “Not quite yet, sir.”

Both of the Gardener’s hands came up, and a pair of tiny silver knives flashed out. One flew toward Andel, one toward Calder.

This time, Calder was ready.

His Awakened cutlass was in his hand, blade glowing with irregular orange spots like the pattern on a live coal. He slapped the throwing knife from the air, though the sudden motion pulled on his wounded shoulder. At least he hadn’t put too much weight on his injured leg; if it collapsed on him again, that would be the opening the Consultant needed.

Calder recognized Meia’s friend Lucan. They’d met once, in the depths of the Gray Island, though Calder hadn’t recalled the man’s name until Meia repeated it.

He started to speak, but the Gardener had pressed his palms against the stone tiles of the courtyard as though Reading. He’s welcome to it, Calder thought. He looked up at the Guard captain, motioning to surround the attacker.

Then the ground of the Imperial courtyard surged to life like a sea in storm, thrashing and throwing men around. Calder slammed to his back, which didn’t do his wounded shoulder any favors, and saw that Foster’s body was being tossed around like a rag doll.

He only had a brief second to wonder about Foster. When had the gunner gone down? Was he immobilized by one of those Gardener paralyzing needles, or was he dead? Then the rock beneath Calder shook any sense from his head.

Calder woke seconds later, to Andel’s soft laughter and the feel of his wrists tightly bound behind his back. He squirmed around for a better look, and saw Lucan only a few feet away, sitting cross-legged on the now motionless stone.

It was with relief that he noted ropes on Foster’s hands—no one would bother to tie a dead man.

“That’s kind of you,” Calder said. If he could make conversation, maybe he could point out some common ground. Just knowing Meia might take him out of this. “Tying us up, I mean. I thought you’d be more likely to slit our throats.”

He almost winced. Why give the man any ideas?

“I like to make sure my victims deserve it,” Lucan said, calm as a soft breeze.

Yet you still call them ‘victims,’ Calder noticed, but he didn’t say it. He raised one eyebrow at Lucan instead. “And you thought we didn’t deserve it? You’re a generous man. Besides, mercy is a quality I never thought I’d see in an assassin.”

“You know many hired killers, do you?”

More and more every day, it seems, he thought. Out loud, he said, “‘The quality of mercy is among the rarest of virtues, and rarest of all in killers and kings.’ Sadesthenes. You should read him sometime. Timeless wisdom in the classics.”

“You’re assuming I haven’t read him already,” Lucan said, unperturbed.

Calder brightened a little. If he’d read Sadesthenes, that might make for more common ground. More reason for him to let them go. “Have you?”

“No.”

A dead end. Calder cast around for a change of subject.

“I can’t help but notice you’re not making a hasty getaway.” Around the edges of the courtyard, Imperial Guards were pulling themselves to their feet and calling for backup. Lucan had to notice, but he didn’t move or point them out.

“And you’re chatty for someone with his hands tied. I can still make a gag.”

As long as Lucan kept responding, Calder could keep the exchange going. And the longer their chat stretched, the more chance for an escape. “I enjoy getting to know interesting people. A Consultant saboteur who attacks the Imperial Palace, fights three men singlehandedly, and then lingers on the scene of the crime is an interesting man indeed.” Not to mention the way that he apparently used Reading to temporarily Awaken stone; Calder would have to get the Magisters to explain that one.

“Your flattery is indeed the most powerful weapon in your arsenal, sir,” Andel piped in. He was weighing in to help the conversation along, the same as Calder, and humor would lighten any situation. “Thank the God we have you to defend us.”

“Shut up, Andel!” Calder said, as he’d said a thousand times on the ship.

“Mmmphmphmmm!” Foster said. Joining in the banter, just as he would on The Testament … and, not coincidentally, letting them know he was conscious and alive.

“Shut up, Foster,” Calder said, and he’d never put more affection into the phrase. “Now, stranger, I’m sure you know my name. I’ve learned to assume the Consultants know everything.”

And of course he knew the Consultant’s name as well…or he thought he did. He wouldn’t want to use the man’s name and then get it wrong. He’d look like an idiot.

Lucan stared up into the crack at the sky, seemingly undisturbed. “Calder Marten, twenty-six years old. Tried before the Emperor for counts of sabotage, theft, destruction of Imperial property, instituting a jailbreak, and conspiracy to commit fraud. Sentenced to forced labor in the service of the Navigator’s Guild.”

Calder didn’t think he’d actually been tried for half of those crimes, but that didn’t make them any less accurate. “That’s…not exactly the list I remember, but it’s impressively comprehensive nonetheless.”

“You tried to attack the Emperor, and I helped to hold you back. It was a test of our reaction speed.”

Calder whistled through his teeth, as though he’d just placed a memory. “That was you. I’d thought…you know what? It’s not important. Serving the Emperor at such a young age. You must be even better than I thought you were, Lucan.”

The effect was as good as he’d hoped. Lucan went stiff, staring at Calder with eyes slightly wide, surprised at the sudden use of his name. A second later he regained control of himself—no doubt remembering that he’d introduced himself only days before—but even that much was enough of a crack in the façade. It reminded Calder that the man was more than an assassin and a Gardener. He was human…and all humans could be beaten.

Even, in the end, the Emperor.

Out of what Calder could only imagine was petty spite, Lucan didn’t respond. He only watched as the orange-eyed captain gathered a group of Guards and surrounded the Consultant, leveling crossbows at him.

She knelt behind Calder, sawing at his bonds with a knife. Calder made a mental note to see what he could do about promoting her. “Are you hurt, sir?

“I think Foster’s poisoned,” he responded. “Get him to an alchemist as quickly as you can. Any casualties?” Lucan’s attack had been focused on Calder and his crew, but it had bruised half a dozen nearby Guards.

“No dead,” the captain responded, to which Calder let out a breath of relief.

“Admirable restraint.” When the ropes left his arms, the blood started to flow, leaving an irritation like an itch just beneath the skin. Calder rubbed at his wrists. “So, Lucan, would you mind telling me why you decided to linger?”

Lucan looked from one Imperial Guard to another, half his face covered, seemingly deciding which to kill first. “Curiosity. I thought I’d have a word with the Guild Head in charge.”

Anger and frustration flickered through Calder before he would suppress them. He’d thought he was past people overlooking his authority, at least here in the palace. “And what makes you think I’m not in charge?”

Lucan answered immediately and with brutal honesty. “Ex-criminals and Navigators don’t get set up as the next Emperor. No offense intended, but I expect the Guild Heads proposed you as a disposable alternative. Bait for the Elders, and something to keep the common people happy.”

Disturbingly true, and Calder realized he’d been half-squatting to face the sitting man at a more even level. He straightened, feeling a flash of pain in his injured leg. “That’s true enough, but no one holds my leash at the moment.”

“Trust me,” Andel said, from the floor nearby. “It’s not a job anyone would want.”

Calder wasn’t sure if the quartermaster was trying to irritate him, or trying to defuse a dangerous situation with levity. Either way, he could play his part. He turned to the Guard captain.

“You can feel free to leave him tied up a little longer. Good for discipline.” To Lucan, he added, “So you can tell me what was so important that you risked execution or capture for the chance to say it.”

Lucan met his eyes calmly, and Calder caught a brief impression of the man’s Intent. He was absolutely at peace, ready to die if he accomplished his mission.

Calder shivered.

“My life is the least of what’s at stake,” the Consultant said. “I’ve already inspected the Optasia, with every intention to sabotage it so you couldn’t use it. Now, I’ve changed my mind.”

And I’ve got Nakothi in my bathtub, Calder thought. “Have you?” he said.

“Yes. You have to destroy it.”

Calder spotted his hat where it had fallen to the ground, picked it up, and placed it on his head. If nothing else, the gesture gave him time to think.

Lucan could easily be lying, but the timing was too good. Jerri had spent significant effort trying to persuade him to sit in the Optasia, and all the Guild Heads seemed to agree. The only argument he had against it was a vague unease, along with the desire to prove he wasn’t dancing to some Elder’s tune.

Now, it seemed like the Consultant was offering him exactly what he wanted: a reason not to trust the Emperor’s ancient artifact.

“Consultant Lucan, we might have something to discuss after all.”

Before taking Lucan into the Emperor’s chambers, Calder had a quick, quiet discussion with the Guard captain.

“He’s not going to attack us,” Calder insisted. Not only did the Consultant’s Intent suggest that he was perfectly content helping, but he’d had a chance to kill Calder in cold blood. He hadn’t taken it. Lucan had earned a measure of trust.

“We’re at war with his Guild,” the captain said stubbornly. Her orange eyes flared. “We were encouraged to ignore even the Emperor’s orders in the interest of keeping him safe, and as far as I’m concerned, this is directly relevant to your security.”

From what Calder had read of the man, the Emperor was not used to being ignored. “Did you ever actually ignore him?”

“Of course not. He was the Emperor.”

With that, the captain proceeded to disregard Calder’s wishes and have Lucan searched and bound. The Guards took his shears, the veil over his mouth, and an impressive array of smaller weapons secreted all around his person. Everything from his handkerchief to the lint in his pockets was confiscated, in case it might possibly be invested; which, in normal circumstances, Calder would have applauded. In this case, he insisted they hurry.

He wanted to find the truth about the Optasia as soon as possible.

Finally Lucan was ready, absolutely unarmed and hands bound. Before taking him into the Emperor’s old room, Calder pulled the Guard captain aside once again. “Please send someone to retrieve my wife. Don’t bring her in yet, but keep her close. I may have some questions for her.”

This time, he was thankful that she didn’t raise any objection. She only nodded and passed the orders on to a lesser Guard.

Together, Calder and Lucan stood before the Optasia. Though the room around them had been ruined in the confrontation between Teach and Jerri, the throne itself was spotless. Its matrix of steel bars sat polished and gleaming, and Calder felt a vague sense of readiness radiating from the device. As though its Intent was receptive and eager, ready to be used.

“It enhances your perception,” Lucan said. “The Emperor had a network of relays built all around the world, statues that look like him. When you connect to the Optasia, it’s like your own Intent separates from you, but magnified a thousandfold. Sitting on this throne, you can Read a building on the other side of the planet.”

“No wonder he controlled the world,” Calder muttered. He couldn’t help a little flash of jealousy. He understood better than most how powerful the Emperor actually was, but the man also had access to this? It was a wonder he’d ever died.

“Well, he didn’t rely on this. He sealed it away from himself. Rumor has it that he even employed…watchers, to make sure he never used it. And if he did, to kill him if it drove him insane.”

Calder stared at Lucan, sure he’d caught the Consultant in a lie. “He had this device, but he never used it?”

Lucan faced the Optasia while emitting sadness and regret, as though remembering his own execution. “One time, that I know of. I gathered that he used it more often when it was built.”

“Because of the Great Elders?” If there was one weapon the Elders would have feared, it was this throne.

“Have you tried Reading it?” Lucan asked.

Calder thought back to Jyrine, insisting that he join his Intent with the device as soon as possible. “You might say I was warned not to.” Anything Jerri wanted that badly, the Great Elders must want as well. And it pained him even to think that.

“I did,” Lucan said grimly. “It’s like staring into the eyes of Kelarac himself.”

“Kelarac doesn’t have any eyes,” Calder responded, deliberately casual. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Lucan’s reaction.

Between the Consultant’s Intent and minor flickers in his expression, Calder was able to piece together his emotions. He was confused at first, and then suspicious. Not the reaction of someone who had met Kelarac before.

It was good to be sure.

“It’s common knowledge,” Calder explained. “Haven’t you read Fisher’s Treatment of the Aion Sea?” He wouldn’t have, as Calder had made up the title on the spot, but Lucan brought the conversation back to business.

“Feel free to Read this for yourself. It’s a conduit straight to the Great Elders. The Emperor was afraid to use the device, lest he draw too much attention, but now…anyone who sits in that thing might as well feed themselves to Kthanikahr.”

Might as well feed themselves to Kthanikahr. Kthanikahr, the Worm Lord, was a monster even by the standards of the Great Elders. His body could be seen even now, a miles-long worm half-exposed where it had burrowed in and around a towering mountain. Myth held that Kthanikahr digested his victims alive over a thousand years.

And Jerri had tried to get him to sit on the throne.

Calder forced his anger back when he noticed the wince on Lucan’s face. If the man was a strong enough Reader to rock the stone outside like storm-tossed waves, he would certainly pick up on Calder’s anger. He was probably causing the Consultant a nasty headache.

“Thank you,” Calder said. “I don’t believe I need to do that. Let’s say I have every reason to believe you’re correct.”

Calder leaned over to the Guard captain. “Bring me the Consultant the alchemists have in recovery. Meia.” The captain saluted and left.

“Consultant Lucan,” Calder continued, “I would like your opinion of a small personal matter. Please observe, after which I have a few requests to make of you.”

Lucan glanced back at the mesh of silvery bars. “Will you destroy the Optasia?”

“I think you’ll find this discussion very relevant,” Calder said. Whether he destroyed it or not depended largely on Jerri’s behavior. Lucan didn’t seem satisfied with that, understandably, so Calder gave him a friendly smile. “As a show of our good faith, I’d like to introduce the newest addition to my crew. I believe you’ve met.”

The Guard captain returned in seconds, perfectly on time. Calder once again reminded himself that the woman deserved some kind of reward. Meia hung over her shoulders, clearly unable to support her own weight, and so close the two women really did look like sisters. Both blond, and if Meia turned her eyes orange, it would have been impossible to think they weren’t related.

Lucan showed more emotion than he had since he’d first appeared: pure astonishment. “Meia?”

Meia didn’t meet his eyes, for reasons Calder couldn’t quite figure out. “I was careless,” she said.

She’s embarrassed, Calder realized. He forced back a budding smile. That was…cute, really, was the only word for it, but Meia wouldn’t appreciate the observation. Even weakened, she could probably tear his arms out of their sockets, so he should probably—

Even his thoughts were interrupted by the surge of frozen hostility radiating from Lucan. On the outside, he didn’t look any different, but his eyes were fixed on Calder and his Intent said that he was three seconds away from a bloody murder.

Calder put a hand to his sword, taking a healthy step back. “Meia, please convince your friend. Hurry.” If anything, the hostile Intent sharpened. “Hurry, please.”

Lucan pulled his wrists apart, passing through the ropes binding his arms together as though they’d rotted off. Calder couldn’t believe his eyes. He wouldn’t have been able to tear ropes like that without days of Intent and focus, while Lucan had seemingly done so in minutes.

The Imperial Guards reacted appropriately, seizing Lucan by the shoulders and slamming him to his knees even as they leveled weapons. Two grabbed Calder and pulled him back.

Then Meia limped up to her Guild-mate, shouldering aside the Guards, and smacked Lucan on the back of the head. “Calm down. If I wanted to escape, I could have done it anytime.”

Calder took a deep breath as Lucan’s Intent dissipated. Escape? She’s not a prisoner. He might have said something indignant if he wasn’t still worried about Lucan killing everyone in the room.

“He’s not keeping you captive?” Lucan asked Meia.

Meia shook her head. “He couldn’t. And I’m not a member of his crew, either.”

“Provisional member,” Calder put in. If he could recruit Meia fully to his side, that would be a coup for his authority as Emperor. Imperial Steward. Whatever they called it.

“I already have a Guild, thank you,” Meia said, but her attention was still fixed on Lucan.

A Guard pushed Lucan farther toward the ground, but he didn’t seem inconvenienced. “So what’s wrong with you?”

“More carelessness,” Meia said, which was better than saying she’d gotten on the bad side of Jarelys Teach. “When we get back, I’ll have to report myself to the Architects.”

When Calder saw Lucan’s answering smile, he realized that Meia had done exactly what he’d wanted: defused the man’s hostility. It had taken a little longer than he’d hoped, but had worked in the end. That was what counted. “You can let him up now.”

The Guards looked to the captain, but Calder outranked her. “Release him,” he repeated.

They did, taking a step back from Lucan but keeping hands on their weapons. That was probably wise, he had to admit. Lucan remained on his knees out of his own will. “What’s the assignment, Meia?” he asked.

“Stop the Elders. They’re the highest priority for all of us. The Imperialists can’t keep an Emperor on the throne if he’s constantly under threat of Elder possession, and the Independents can’t successfully establish a new world order if they’re only serving the world up to the Elders piece by piece. We should be working together, not against each other.”

Not precisely how Calder would have said it, but it was a good answer. If she believed it, and he thought she did, then she should keep working with him. He just had to phrase it the right way…

“Did the Architects order you to do this?” Lucan asked.

Meia’s answering pause didn’t make her following words sound very persuasive. “They would.”

Nonetheless, Lucan seemed pleased. “Maybe they would.” He turned to Calder. “Captain, I’m still here because I agree with Meia. Whatever else we do, the Guilds can’t dance to an Elder’s tune.”

You’ve been dancing to an Elder tune for half your life. Jerri’s words. Now suddenly, disturbingly, echoed. He had some soul-searching to do later, but for now, he needed Lucan and Meia both on his side. “That’s well said, and your loyalty to the Empire is why I kept you here, Consultant Lucan. Anyone who can look past our current Guild rivalry is someone I can work with. And your personal knowledge of the Optasia will come in handy for our next guest.”

Calder waved to the Guard captain, indicating that she should bring Jerri forward.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

Calder cleared his throat and made his intentions more obvious. “Could you bring the next guest in, please?”

Her orange eyes moved around, like she was looking for the next guest somewhere in the room. “I wasn’t aware we had another guest, sir.”

She was excellent at her job, Calder was sure, but she wasn’t a member of his crew. They hadn’t worked together long enough to read each other’s minds. “My wife, Captain.”

She looked as though he’d asked her to haul in the garbage, but she did bow and leave.

Calder turned back to Lucan, who looked somewhat amused. “That would have worked better if I hadn’t been forced to explain. More dramatic.”

“Are you still in frequent contact with the Sleepless, Captain Marten?”

More than I want to be. He turned to face the door, prepared for his wife’s arrival. “Too frequent, Consultant Lucan.”

When the door opened, the captain brought Jerri into the room.

She looked much as Calder had last seen her, messy and unkempt in her secondhand prisoner’s uniform, though she seemed angrier. She probably hadn’t appreciated it when he’d walked out on her, even though the sky was literally cracking apart. She was shackled with enough chains to restrain an Imperial Guard, and Calder almost had them removed before he reconsidered the anger in her eyes. No. Let her wear them.

“You just drag me out of my hole whenever you wish, now?” she asked.

Calder gave a flippant response, knowing it would annoy her. “That’s one of the perks of being Emperor. I get to drag whomever I like wherever I like.”

Jerri barked out a sound too ugly to be a laugh. “You’re not the Emperor, but you could be, if you would just listen to me!”

The same argument as before, but more heated. Well, so be it. He had temper enough to match both of them today, after knowing she’d tried to trick him into killing himself on the Optasia. “In point of fact, that’s exactly why I’ve brought you here. I’m going to ask you a question, and I’d be very interested in listening to the answer.”

He gestured to the Optasia, which sat alone and almost forgotten in the corner of the room. “What exactly should I do with this, Jerri?”

“It’s a relic of the Emperor,” Jerri answered, in a tone that suggested he was an idiot. “You sit in it.”

“And then what will happen to me?”

“Calder, I’m not a Reader.”

“No, you’re a Soulbound.” Something else you lied to me about. “But I have every faith in your ability to answer the question.”

She sighed, as though giving into a child’s demands. “As I understand it, the device will expand your awareness. Thanks to a network of relays, you’ll be able to Read practically anything on the planet from this spot.”

Almost word-for-word how Lucan had explained it. So she understood the Optasia perfectly. “Including the Great Elders,” he prompted, waiting for her to admit it.

“Of course including the Great Elders. That’s the whole point. This is the only way for you to understand them, and to negotiate with them on an equal level. With you on the throne, humanity will finally have someone to speak to the Elders on our behalf. You’ll have a seat among the immortals, Calder. It’s something we all desperately need.”

Once again, she was trying to convince him he would be saving the world. Not handing his body over as a husk for the Elders. Finally, he’d caught her in an outright lie. He turned to Lucan.

“We’ve heard from the crazed Elder cultist, and now let’s hear from a neutral party. Jerri, Lucan here is a Consultant who came here to sabotage the Optasia. He Read the throne for himself, and instead of leaving, he stayed here to warn me.”

“And you call him a neutral party?” Jerri asked, but quickly latched on to a different detail. She turned away from Calder to Lucan. “Consultant Lucan, did you say?”

“Jyrine,” Lucan said, shocking Calder. “I’m glad you made it out alive.”

Of course. They were practically cellmates. Next door in the Consultant dungeon, they must have gotten to know each other. For an instant, a suspicion bloomed: if they knew each other already, how could he possibly trust anything Lucan said? Maybe he was Sleepless himself.

But if this was all part of their plan, they would have concealed their connection. He would never have found out. In fact, this could be an advantage: if Jerri knew Lucan, then she knew he was a Reader. She’d know he was telling the truth.

“Lucan, what would happen to me if I tried to use the Optasia?”

The Consultant didn’t hesitate. “You would go insane in minutes. Perhaps seconds. The Great Elders would core you like an apple and put whatever they wanted in your place.” No member of the Sleepless would warn him like this; they would leave him to walk blindly into danger.

“That’s some compelling imagery,” Calder said. “Jerri, your rebuttal?”

But he could see that his wife’s mind was elsewhere.

As soon as she heard the Consultant’s name, Jerri recalled a vivid memory. Crouched in her cold cell on the Gray Island, she listened as Lucan spoke to his ally. To Shera.

She almost shivered at the unnatural timing of this ‘coincidence.’ Kelarac was controlling the game now, and he had placed her within reach of Shera’s allies. “Lucan,” she said. “The Consultant named Shera visited you while you were in prison. Do you know her well?”

Lucan’s response was absolutely calm. “We’ve worked together.”

That was confirmation enough for Jerri. She turned to his blond partner. Meia? Maia? Something like that. “How about you? Do you know Shera?”

“I don’t believe I’m required to answer you, madam,” Meia said, but Jerri knew the truth. Kelarac had delivered two of Shera’s closest allies into her hands.

She nodded, turning back to Calder. “You’ve met Shera before. She’s tried to kill both of us. She did kill Urzaia. Would you trust her companions?”

“Consultant Shera and I have a separate account to balance,” Calder said. “If I refused to do business with any Guild whose members have attempted to execute me in the past, I’d be working alone. Or maybe with the Greenwardens,” he added.

He was being intentionally obstinate; ignoring her logic and making a point to say the opposite of whatever she did. In other circumstances, she could try and get him alone, make him engage her argument.

But she had to take this opportunity, whatever it cost her. You must not let the Killer meet the King.

“I’ve been warned about Shera quite recently,” Jerri said, hoping he would sense sincerity in her Intent. “However little you know of her, let me assure you: she is the greatest threat to you and to the future of humanity, not any Guild.”

Calder’s brow furrowed, and his hand began crawling for his pistol. “Recently? Who warned you, Jerri?”

“She’s your enemy, Calder, whether you believe it or not,” Jerri said. She was close to him now, the Guards closing in on her from every direction. “And whether you like it or not, I’m still your ally.”

She spun to face Meia, drawing power from her earring. The Vessel, the source of her power, delivered to her by Kelarac himself.

There were two targets here, two allies of the Killer, but she knew she would only get one shot. And if she could eliminate only one target, she’d prefer to remove Meia; the blond Consultant was a stranger, while Lucan had listened to her stories while they were both captives of his Guild. If she had to kill one and spare the other, she would prefer it if Lucan walked away.

“Stop her!” Calder shouted, drawing his sword instead of his gun. The Guards shoved her to the ground, but she had already released a shot of green flame. It blasted over Calder’s shoulder, tearing through the air with palpable hunger.

Meia stood with orange eyes wide, staring at her approaching death. In the instant before the blast struck, Jerri knew she had succeeded. Meia couldn’t escape.

Calder twisted, trying to get his orange-spotted blade between Meia and the fire, but he was too slow. He couldn’t stop it.

But Lucan threw out a hand.

Meia collapsed as though weighted down, like every inch of her clothing was suddenly anchored to the floor. Jerri’s attack tore through the wall of the Emperor’s room, leaving a smoldering hole the size of a bullet.

I’ve failed. The Guards piled on top of her, practically smothering her with their weight, and she knew she had only seconds before they pried her earring away. She couldn’t even see Meia, so her only option was to burn her way free of the Guards if she wanted to try again.

Her Vessel raged inside her, begging her to incinerate the bodies in her way, but she forced it down. Calder would never trust her again

“Her earring!” Calder shouted. “The earring is the Vessel!”

She was surrounded in a cage of limbs, both human and otherwise. The Kameira enhancements of the Imperial Guards blocked her in a menagerie of tentacles, talons, claws, and scales. But through the chaos, she caught a glimpse of another face; pressed, like hers, against the floor.

Lucan’s dark skin was a shade too pale, and his eyelids fluttered as though he hovered on the verge of passing out, but he looked as though he recognized her. And Jerri saw Kelarac’s will.

She wished it didn’t have to be Lucan, but this was one last Elder-sent chance to remove one of Shera’s greatest allies. The moment was here, she had her earring, and she didn’t even have to kill anyone else. Truly, the Great Elders had set the stage.

Though she knew Lucan wouldn’t hear her over the chaos, she felt she had to say something. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Her Vessel wasn’t sorry. It crowed triumph.

Calder shouted louder, reaching closer, trying to grab her ear.

A wave of dry heat blasted up as a single bolt of green flame flashed out from Jerri’s hand. It drilled into Lucan’s stomach.

The Guards saw the flash of light on her face, tearing out the earring and leaving a bloody hole in her ear. But it was too late. Jerri let them drag her off back to her cell, knowing that her task was over. She had already won.

Lucan was dead.

The Guards were still shackling her to the walls, growling threats about her execution, when Calder marched in. He still held his sword, as though he’d forgotten its existence, and he stared at her in undisguised horror.

Even now, that still hurt.

“Why?” Calder asked. “Why him?”

Jerri spoke simply, knowing he would recognize honesty. “That might be the last chance I get to strike a blow against Shera. I had to make it count.”

“Because she’s the greatest threat.” He pointed to Jerri with the tip of his sword. “Who told you that, Jerri?”

“Who do you think?”

He nodded as though she’d confirmed his every suspicion, then gestured to the Guard nearest the door. An instant later the door slammed shut, leaving Jerri once again in darkness.