‘We’re as primed as we can be for a session of galactic-level patricide with the sombrero of all immortal asshats,’ Molan rasped, checking the energy cells on his ordnance.
Zane chuckled. ‘Stay safe, fight hard, Mirage is keeping a close eye, and the Riders will have your six should you need it.’
‘Santebrother,’ Idan grunted.
With a two-fingered salute, Zane strolled away and climbed back into the cockpit of his pinnace.
The engines gave a muffled, high-pitched whine before the craft banked, streaking back toward the atmosphere of Eden II to monitor the fallout from Sable HQ.
Once the brothers satisfied themselves that their weapons were primed, they sank into their reinforced camp chairs on the ridge of a dune, eyes locked on the magnificent valley below.
‘Can’t beat a lunar sunset,’ Molan grunted, ‘and a sundowner, while taking this freakin’ view in.’
They popped tabs on beer cans and sipped through straws to counter the lack of gravity, unbothered by the scarcity of oxygen in the air.
Idan relaxed, surrounded by the stark desert beauty of the Eden Maria.
‘How fast do you think he’ll come?’ Molan mused.
‘He’s eager to hear from us in the hopes of reclaiming Sivania, so I’ll bet on the Star-Graves of Aethelgard that he’ll be here soon,’ his brother murmured.
They spent the next few hours in a rare, vulnerable exchange, stripping away the armor of their past.
They discussed the brutality of their father’s choices. They spoke about their mothers and paid respect to the amazing women who raised them.
The conversation drifted into tales from Molan’s gun-running exploits and Idan’s Sacran war stories until the lassitude pulled them under.
Mo slipped first into a snooze, his head sliding to the edge of his rest.
Idan stretched back into the chair’s back cushion as he floated into a shallow doze.
He jerked awake minutes later, his heart hammering against his ribs as a violent psionic nudge from Zane lanced through his mind.
Wake up, sleeping beauties.
Molan knifed upright as Zane’s mental growl reverberated through their skulls.
A massive celestial signature just breached orbit. He’s coming in hot.
Idan stood, his hand finding the hilt ofTheSun Eater.
On the horizon, a streak of violet fire tore through the black sky, heralding the god-king’s arrival.
26
A Rage Fueled Tsunami
Asudden freezing, cutting wind blew into Idan, whipping sand over his face in a cold reminder of the stakes.
Taking a deep breath, he sheathed theSun Eaterand theCaelum-Sundererand touched a button on his sleek jumpsuit to hide them from view.
Beside him, Molan gathered the glowing, heavy fetters of the Chains of the Old King.
Mo wound the shimmering metal around his midsection, the ancient links pulsing with a rhythmic, golden luminescence.
With a grunt, he swung theStaff of Mortisto his rear, stealthing his weapons from sight.
The siblings exchanged glances, tipped their chins, and braced.
