The rest of Iron’s cronies sat near the front, along with two faces he’d hoped he wouldn’t see—Jace and Mom. His brother glared, eyes hard as carnelian. Mom stared at a spot on the floor, not even glancing at him as he passed. The bailiff showed him to the witness chair.
“We aren’t bothering with swearing oaths,” Vexler declared in derision. He wore black, as always, bald head reflecting the bright lights. A fan droned from a corner. “These proceedings are private, but don’t be fooled—they carry weight.”
“I have no patience for traitors,” spat Irons. Angling toward Colt, he added, “even if one’s my own son.”
Colt gripped the armrests, his jaw set. “I’m no traitor, Father, and neither is General Crane. You sent us to massacre unarmed civilians, peaceful protestors.”
“No!” thundered the president, his face reddening. Colt couldn’t reconcile the man in the judge’s seat with the one who’d played with him as a boy. “That filthy, unpatriotic rag lied—bogus account.”
“Mr. President.” Colt contradicted him through clenched teeth, leaning closer to his irate father. “I was there. I know the truth.”
With a menacing snarl, Irons replied in a tone so cold it froze him to the bone. “The truth is what I say it is.”
Letting his words hang, Irons straightened, peering across at General Crane, powerful shoulders slumped, hazel eyes bloodshot. “Maddox, you should have realized that from the beginning. Here, I thought you were on my side, and you go and turn my boy against me.”
“He didn’t!” Colt shot up, fists clenched. “Father, you can’t just go around killing people because they might not vote for you.”
“Didn’t you read the reports of armed rebellion in theDominion Standard?” Irons asked, shifting his focus back to Colt. “Even theRed River Gazetteagreesthat our actions were justified. But you couldn’t toe the line.” His expression hardened. “Somehow, you and the traitorous, disgraced Maddox Crane found that illegal rag—Wellspring, or whatever—and depicted a conflicting report. Do you know what that breeds?”
Colt stared at his father, jaw easing open, a Gordian knot tight in his gut.
The president’s voice gentled. “It causes doubt and division—flaws we can’t tolerate. We’re on the eve of invading Verdancia, of claiming what’s rightfully ours, and you think you can do a better job of leading the Republic to greatness than me?”
A dagger of fear pierced his composure.How could he know about that? Maddox wouldn’t have told him. It was his idea.He shot the general a furtive glance; his head remained bowed.Did Dad threaten his son’s life? Torture him until he confessed?The military giant appeared weak and defeated, his hands in cuffs.
If he knew one thing about his father, it was that he despised weakness. Colt stiffened, jutting up his chin in defiance. “Yes, President Irons,” he proclaimed. “I would make a better leader than you. I would engage in trade with our neighbors rather than plot invasions to take their goods like a common raider. I would allow for debate and differences of opinion so that the best results might be attained. Instead of surrounding myself with an echo chamber of sycophants, I would seek fresh ideas and novel solutions. Our military should be protecting us from Burnt Plains bandits and borderlands wildlings. Our resources should be invested in rebuilding the lost civilization, in medicine, and climate renewal. Invading Verdancia is madness.” He tossed a hand in the air. “What happened to you? How did you become …” Colt sneered in disgust, brows narrowed over his stormy blue eyes. “This?”
Silence screamed, but no louder than the blood pounding in his ears. Colt might have just signed his own death sentence, but at least he’d stood up to a tyrant. No eye blinked as the entire chamber held its breath.
With a slow, ominous growl, Irons commanded, “Sit down.”
Satisfied that he could die with his conscience clear,Colt sat.
“You might not care about yourself, foolish son.” The threat in Irons’ voice was palpable. A new jolt of fear rocketed through Colt, draining color from his cheeks. His father smirked. “That’s right. Don’t you want your wife and daughter to live comfortably in safety? And then you and Crane plot a coup. Tsk, tsk.” He wagged a finger at Colt.
“It was my idea,” Maddox testified, fire returning to his eyes. “Luther, I believed in you. I believed in democracy, in the Republic, in the Dominion Party.Youare the one who betrayedus. You’ve made a mockery of our principles and ideals. Denounce Queen Frost all you want,” he snarled, “it’s only because you’re jealous. You want to be king.”
“Preposterous,” Irons laughed.
“President for life,” Maddox replied. “What’s the difference? And sending us to murder harmless protestors?”
Irons slammed his gavel, glowering at the general. “No protestors are harmless. You think because they didn’t shoot guns at you that they posed no threat? Fool! Those are the most dangerous kind. You,” he bellowed, bolting to his feet, “are a traitor, a conspirator, and you will pay the price. First, you’ll be publicly disgraced, your stars ripped from your shoulders. Then, before all the soldiers, the citizens, the people of Dominion, the executioner will cut off your head. Nobody defies me,” he thundered. In a hush, he added, “Not even my son.”
Colt tensed as his father turned his wrath toward him. “Colt, I’m sending you to the boil on the butt of the Iron Wastes—Fort Desperado. A few years there should teach you your place.”
Of all the bases and outposts in the Red River Republic, Fort Desperado was the most notorious. Deep in a dry wasteland on the country’s farthest border, casualty rates were high and morale nonexistent. It was where criminals were sent to serve time patrolling the desert. Some considered an assignment there worse than death.
“Harmony and Chloe will remain here, of course, where they can be properly looked after.” A twisted grin curled across his lips. “In case you get any crazy ideas out there under all that sun.”
Colt’s chin dropped, his gaze sinking to the floor. He was beyond sick. “Send Crane with me to the desert,” he suggested. “He served the Republic honorably for decades.”
“No. Someone must be the scapegoat, the bad guy. The people need an enemy to blame. He’s agreed to confess his treachery before the crowds in exchange for his son’s life. Maybe I’ll send the brat to Desperado with you.”
Luther Irons returned to his seat, regaining an air of dignity. “What do you have to say now, Colt?”
There wasn’t much he could say, not while this despot threatened his wife and baby, possibly his mother and brother as well. Luther wouldn’t kill him—he was too cruel for that. Instead, he’d make Colt suffer, manipulate and coerce him, like he did everyone else.
Irons sneered. “That’s right. You aren’t on your high horse now. You see, my friend Bram is extremely good at his job. His spies are everywhere—watching, listening, reporting back. Did you honestly think you and Maddox could get away with your plan?” He shook his head. “I thought you were smarter than that.
