Page 56

PRINCE DOMAN

I sit in my throne as the holo-vid appears in front of me.

My mother is in the gardens of the palace, near the pond where I used to wrestle with Bruton, the loser getting a bath.

On the outside, she is pristine, not a single hair out of place, in a simple yet elegant brown dress, but she’s sitting on the stone bench, and I can tell she hasn’t slept in a week.

It’s such a strange thing, that she looks not much older than me, the Bond slowing the lifespan.

Every year, an Aurelian ages slower, and in that endless old age, many old warriors choose the peace of absolution in the cryo-bays, to create the next version of themselves instead of living in an endless twilight.

One day, I will look the same age as my own fathers, though the burden of ruling has put lines on their faces, tension in their eyes.

With the Bond, the same process occurs for a human, but my mother was only in her twenties when she was Bonded to my fathers, and thus she has barely lived longer than me.

“My son,” she smiles, her eyes warming.

“Mother. How are you?”

Her eyes close, slowly, then open. “I’m tired, Doman. I’m tired. Obsidian won’t stop. There are no limits to what he will do to us. His new mastery of the Rift… we can’t waste any more time. Get the final ritual on Frosthold finished and complete the tests.”

I grip the stone armrest of my throne. “The Planet-Killers. Do you plan to use them against Obsidian?”

“It would be like using a sledgehammer against a mosquito. He darts his forces in, then back out before we can strike him. But he is only a mosquito. He can sting us, but he can’t kill us.”

That soothes me. I don’t know if she would be willing to use the Planet-Killers if they would be effective, but they are strategically useless against the style of war Obsidian is raging, guerrilla strikes then vanishing before we can mount a response.

My mother smiles. I am one of the only people alive who has seen Queen Jasmine with any vulnerability or human emotion.

“You’re not the first of my sons to ask about the Planet-Killers.

Cal has been hard at work, trying to convince me not to even run this test. He and the Princess Evelyn have become fast friends, and both are studying the Rift, though I try to tell her to rest.”

“Are the tests truly necessary? With our new access to Pentaris territory, the Toads will be put on the backfoot. They know we could strike into the heart of their kingdom if they try anything.”

“We will win this war. But we can’t fight on two fronts. These tests alone will chill any Toad ambitions.”

I tap my fingers against the stone of my throne, thinking.

“He’s done a great deal of damage to our Mark-10 factories. The cyborgs are the reason we’re pushing back his advance.”

“Yes. But not all of them. Only the factories on our outer territories. We push him back, deeper and deeper, and he strikes out in desperation. His mastery of the Rift is an annoyance and nothing more. This ends as it was always going to. Obsidian can wait no longer. Fay is near to giving birth to his firstborn, and he will not let his son be born into captivity. He has no more time. He will come to Colossus, and he will die here.”

The talk of Fay makes my skin crawl. Any hint of hesitation would be disaster. She may be my mother, and she may love me, but if she thought I was going to stand in the way of her victory and peace, she would throw me into a jail cell and release me only when Obsidian was slain.

“He won’t be thinking straight. I have another plan.”

“Go on.”

“Booby trap a Mark-10 factory. One that he can’t resist striking. Fill it with nuclear warheads. He’s been exposing himself to danger on the frontlines.”

My mother’s eyes narrow in thought. “His spy networks are elaborate. But it might work. I’ll speak with Baldur of it.”

My second father always had a cunning I wished to possess. He drubbed me in chess through my childhood, and in my early adulthood as well, and I have still yet to take a game from him. Only Cal was able to compete against him.

“I’m very proud of you, Doman. You’ve grown into a great general.

Your play with the Prime Minster was exceptionally well done.

She was fiercely anti-Aurelian, and now she has bowed to us.

Access to her territories is a key asset.

I underestimated your diplomatic skills.

You manipulated her effortlessly. You will be a true leader when it is your time to take the throne as emperor. ”

I grin, hiding my emotions. “I’ll be an ancient man when it comes time. I’ll leave it for one younger.”

“Yes, your children or your grandchildren will have your skill. Tell me, Doman, where is your Fated Mate?”

I raise my hand, showing the black orb-ring that all members of the Aurelian Army wear. “I am just another soldier.”

“You’re so much more than that. You are my firstborn,” she says, and she smiles, but then it becomes sad.

“Be careful with your heart, Doman. I watched the ceremony on Magnar. The way you looked at Adriana, it was like the way Raegan first cast his eyes on me, the way he looks at me every day of my life. This one is a proud woman. It will be a morass when you break it off. Find a way to do it clean. I promise you, when you find your Fated Mate, any feelings of puppy love you had for her will evaporate like a dream.”

“These are peacetime talks.”

“True. Warriors are bolstered by your sacrifice. They see you putting the needs of the Empire above your own. You are a true prince, Doman, and you make me so proud every day. When the tests are conducted, you will return to Colossus, and you will be wed to her in front of our people.” Her eyes grow more intense.

“It may be the time Obsidian decides to strike. He may think us distracted.”

“Something tells me you’re setting a trap.”

“He’s a cunning wolf, and he may not step into it. We’ve run the simulations. Even with his mastery of the Rift, he stands no chance with a direct attack.”

She sounds confident, but I can see she is unsettled, the tension in her as she sits straight-backed.

“What is it?”

“We’ve captured some of his Priests. It takes a long, long time to wear them down, but our Interrogators are patient.”

“What have you learned?”

She frowns. “We had hoped that Obsidian was a pawn of the Priests. That they somehow added the birthmark to him in his mother’s belly, that he was hidden away to rally their troops…

but he’s no pawn. They truly see him as a God.

They see signs everywhere. And do you know what scares me the most, Doman? They think they are a force of good.”

“What do you mean?”

“The prophecies. We had thought them stories, woven to take power, creations of man. But even the High Priests of his order believe them. They believe they are fighting a war not for the throne but for the fate of the entire universe. And if Obsidian is not ruler of the Aurelian Empire, the entire universe will perish. We are fighting forces who will stop at nothing to win.” Her face hardens, and any trace of my mother is gone.

Instead, I see the woman capable of keeping a pregnant captive, capable of doing anything to defeat her enemies.

“When we kill Obsidian, it is the beginning, not the end. We need to pull out every root of resistance. We will send our men with squads of Mark-10s through every stretch of space, and there will be no safe haven for Aurelians marked by the brands of Obsidian. We will hunt down every last one of them. And then, only then, will there be peace.”

I swallow, unsettled. “My sword is yours to command.”

“Finish the final ritual. Conduct the tests. Return to Colossus. And prepare yourself, the day is coming. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I say, and end the call, the vast marble of my throne room cold and impersonal.