“Where is the governor?”
There was a pause before the other warden answered. “Glencoe. She’s alive.”
The line clicked off, call ending, and Soren stood there, frozen in place, staring blankly at nothing. The news didn’t seem real—that the Warden’s Island had fallen to Daijal. That a country would go against everything dictated by the Poison Accords and bring harm to the very people that kept the world safe.
Soren drew in a ragged breath, wondering about the tithes, about the wardens too old or wounded to survive the poison fields. The Warden’s Island was supposed to be a respite from the roads and borders. It wasn’t a home, but it was all any warden had.
And now they didn’t even have that.
Soren shook his head, crumpling up the piece of paper and dropping it in the bin by the desk. He took himself out of the resupply station, locking the door behind him. His skin had goose bumps, and not even the heat of a summer day could warm him.
Soren didn’t know how Vanya would react to news of the Warden’s Island being attacked. Sanctions were primed to be levied against Solaria. Even with that punishment in play, Soren liked to think Vanya wouldn’t take pleasure in the deaths of Soren’s fellow wardens and too-young tithes.
He reached for his belt, belatedly realizing he’d left his televox in the bedroom back at the palace, not expecting to need to fully gear up for a simple roundtrip to the resupply station. He could use the telephone inside the resupply station, but Vanya would not expect the call from that number and would not answer on his personal televox. Calling the household line was out of the question. Neither could he reach the Chief Minister’s office and hope the news wouldn’t spread.
Ever since the discovery of Amir’s status as arionetka, Vanya had become deeply distrustful. That lack of trust was something Soren understood, leaving them both on edge, despite all the precautions Vanya attempted to take to safeguard his House and country.
If a call wasn’t possible, the only other option was to return with the devastating news in person. Soren didn’t recall much of the drive back to the Imperial palace. The streets passed in a blur as he guided his velocycle through the traffic. Thepraetorialegionnaires on guard duty at the palace gates sent him through with a crisp wave, and he drove into the forecourt.
Rather than leave his velocycle for a servant to deal with, he drove it at a low speed to the garage detached from the main wings of the palace. He needed the tools there to do a check on the engine. He’d been planning to perform that maintenance after the gathering today and before he got on the road, but it needed to be done now. It couldn’t wait.
Neither could Vanya.
Soren drove into the garage and got off his velocycle, walking it toward the mechanics bay. He parked it in an out-of-the-way spot before leaving the garage and returning to the palace proper. Soren stopped the first servant he found who wore the colors of one assigned to the royal household as opposed to the general palace staff.
“Where’s the emperor?” Soren asked.
The maid bowed her head respectfully, carefully keeping the vase of flowers she was carrying upright. “I haven’t seen him this morning. Perhaps try the star temple? He spoke yesterday of wanting to pray this morning.”
It wouldn’t be out of character for Vanya to pray before a gathering, despite already having Callisto’s blessing. He was dutiful that way. Soren nodded his thanks before striding down the hallway, making his way across the palace wings again for an entrance that would take him to the private star temple.
It was a place he was familiar with, ever since entering it the first time for the funeral of Vanya’s parents. He’d long moved past the quiet fury of realizing what lay beneath the palace, working to better secure the entrance to the crypt. Vanya had agreed to all his suggestions, including the creation of a secondary door built by warden engineers, with a key given to the House rather than the Star Order.
It was meant as an extra precaution, requiring the presence of a member of the ruling House or someone they designated from the royal household to enter the crypt. There was no recent cause—for Vanya and Raiah still lived—to open the crypt within the star temple. So it was strange to find the way barred by a star priest, door closed behind him, and thepraetorialegionnaires who normally patrolled the star temple missing.
“The temple is off-limits today,” the star priest said, refusing to move. His Solarian was faintly accented, sounding as if he were from one of thevasilyetsaround Bellingham or even Karnak.
“I’m looking for the emperor.”
“He isn’t here.”
“I was told he came to pray.”
“There is no sermon set for today. Again, I must ask you to leave.”
The star priests assigned to the star temple here knew Soren. They knew this was his border, knew he had explicit permission to enter at any time. He had never been barred from the premises, for the only one who had the authority to do so was Vanya.
And Vanya never would.
A chill coursed down Soren’s spine, unease settling in his skin. He stared at the star priest, whose serene expression never wavered. He contemplated sliding free the Imperial writ tucked safe into the inner pocket of his vest to gain access but decided against doing so.
“I’ll look for him in the greenhouse, then. He likes to wander there after a prayer session,” Soren said, lying through his teeth. Vanya almost always returned to the palace after praying, busy as he was.
The star priest nodded, waving Soren away with one hand. “May the stars guide you.”
The greenhouse was within the palace gardens but set beyond the star temple. It was an excuse for Soren to follow the path around the circular building to the rear entrance typically used by star priests andpraetorialegionnaires. The door was plain-looking and unguarded but locked.
Frowning, he withdrew the lockpicks and slipped them into the keyhole, fumbling a bit with the tumblers and gears. It took a minute or so for him to pick the lock, pushing the door open slowly, looking up in case there was a bell he had to be aware of. But the way forward was unalarmed in any way, no spell set down to seal it off or give warning of someone entering or leaving.
