I don’t want to know that side of Harl. Not today, when he’s spent the day cooking for my pet yomni’il. I want to love him for that.
We’ll have that conversation another time. After Elvis is better. After the Hatching. Later, when it’ll be easier to leave if it all goes to shit.
Chapter 2
Lyro
I’ve always known what I am.
Useful.
Youngest son, planetless Jara. Pet. Puppet.
My father, my brothers, the priests of the Eye, they all think that if they dangle power in front of me, I’ll leap, jaws snapping, for any chance at it. That I’ll do anything to taste their scraps.
And I will. Alioth knows, I will. I’ll twist and beg and tie myself in knots just for a chance at it, even though I know there is no chance. They’ll never give it to me. But even when I know what they’re doing, I still make myself useful every time.
Because there’s something else that I am.
Patient.
Someday, when my brothers forget that their fists and blades forged me into a lethal weapon, I’ll hold a knife to their throats. Someday, when the priests forget that I’m the son of an Emperor, I’ll become one. Someday, I’ll get my goddess-given due.
My mother, Lorynn, flushes dark purple with fear when I tell her I’m leaving, her claws biting into my wrist. “When will you be back?”
I hope toneverreturn to the Eye, the space station that we’ve both called a prison since my father retreated here to be closer tothe goddess. But I can’t tell her that with shadowcloaked guards posted all around us.
I can’t tell her the delicate game I’ve played, placating my five arrogant brothers and Zomah, the High Priest, as they’ve tested my loyalty in turn. I can’t tell my mother about the clues I’ve given Nik and his fated queen in the hopes that they’ll rescue her and the other concubines my father left in the greedy grasp of the Eye when he died. I can’t tell her of my plans to slash all the strings that have bound and tugged at me for my entire life.
So I lie, something else I’ve done for my entire life. “Soon.”
She lets me go, and I walk away without knowing if I’ll ever see her again. If her rescue fails, Zomah may execute her and my brothers’ mothers. If I fail to bring Zomah the missing terrakin, he may execute her. It’s his favorite threat. This is the last string I need to sever, the one so tightly wound about my neck that it controls my every breath.
I take a long, unusual route through the mirrored, labyrinthine passageways of the Eye, hoping to avoid the High Priest on my way to the space dock. Of course, I fail. He watches and listens, always.
When he glides out of the hidden doorway in front of me, only steps from the airlock, his smile is sharp, glistening with victory. My visit to the concubines has only strengthened his belief that I will dance at the end of his string.
He gives it a final tug. “Your father, Alioth greet his ghost, may not be here, but I think of you as my son, Lyro. I have every faith you will succeed.”
I nod. Any words are pointless. If he knew how I despised my father, he would not be so eager to step into the role.
“Alioth sees great promise in you. She assures me that one day, you will rise to carry on my great legacy.”
If Alioth really spoke to this old fool this way, I would want nothing to do with the goddess. But Zomah lies even more than I do.
“The Mizarans have agreed to fight for the Eye. But if you find the terrakin, we can avoid a great deal of expense and trouble.” He makes it sound as though a war against my brothers would simply be an annoyance and not a genocide.
I bow deeply so he can’t see the curl of my lip, waiting until the hem of his cloak sweeps away.
Then I board my bird, tension falling away with every step of the launch sequence. The great jaw of the Eye opens, spitting me into the dark expanse of space. I watch as pink-hued Olethia, where the Eye has been loitering in orbit, grows smaller and smaller on the nav screen, waiting until enough distance is between us that I can set my course without Zomah’s sensors picking it up.
I know where the missing terrakin is. I’ve known for some time, because the idiot Frathiks who have her were very sloppy. They were careful with their communications but stupid enough to use the same ship to transport her, so she was easy to track. All I had to do was follow it.
They’re keeping her on R’Hiza, the ghost planet. Or if the Frathik generals are to be believed, she is staying there of her own free will. But I can’t swallow that a thin-skinned terrakin would choose to spend her time on a vacant, frigid planet with the species who stole her from her home.
They aren’t even supposed to be there, as they only recently negotiated to populate the planet, so the facility is illegal, hidden in an inhospitable sector in the shadow of R’Hiza’s rings. This will not be a simple rescue.
It would be easier if I could assassinate her. Then it would just be a matter of nudging an asteroid off course, and I could take care of two problems with one meteor. But I need her aliveto soothe whoever wins control of my father’s concubines: My brothers and their terrakin queens, who want their sister and friend back. Or Zomah, who will use the Empress’s sister to regain lost footing in the Five Planets. Without her, both of them will resort to violence financed by an almost endless supply of epylium ore.
