Page 86 of Last of Her Name

“Only that the tensors have it too.”

“They have somethinglikeit,” he corrects me. “Before they were rulers, the Leonovs were artists of genetic enhancement, and the tensor code was one of their earlier innovations. They created four Firebird codes in all. The tensors’ gyrokinesis one, two others lost long ago—one that fostered superintelligence, the other rumored to grant virtual immortality—and the final code—yours.”

I draw a deep breath and look down at my hands.

I am the Firebird.

“But what does that mean? What does the codedo?”

Before replying, Volkov rises and walks to a cabinet against the wall. As he opens it and looks through the contents, he continues, “I was twenty when your father broke his family’s most sacred rule and told me about the Firebird. Pyotr always was the braggart. He showed me the things he could do—the gifts he had, like no other. He called it prismakinesis. Pyotr—all the Leonovs—couldcontrolthe energy the Prisms produce, the same way tensors control gravity.”

“They controlled Prismic energy …” My hands knit together on my lap, starting to shake. “Zhar said he used the Prismata to blow up Emerault’s moon.”

“Yes.” He finds the bottle he wants and pulls it out, then turns to look at me. “The Leonovs could reach any Prism in the galaxy, and cause it to explode or fade or even manipulate the tech and systems they powered. Any station, any settlement—it was all at their fingertips. They could pluck your secrets from your tabletkas, spy on you through your own security cameras, override any system they liked. If it was powered by Prism energy, it was theirs for the taking.” He shakes his head, eyes darkening. “I lost a lot of good people the day Pyotr blew up Emerault’s moon, and that was when I knew he would never come to terms with us. The genetic code that granted the Leonovs such great power also cursed them with insanity. Strange visions haunted them; voices woke them in the night. I remember old Feodor, Pyotr’s father, holding conversations with people who were not there. And Pyotr finally succumbed to that curse. He had to be removed from the throne.”

While he pours the wine, I look down at the Triangulum pieces, thinking of the millions of Prisms in use across the Belt. If this is true, then the Leonovs had power beyond anything I’ve imagined. They controlled every aspect of the Jewels.

Zhar thought the Prismata was the superweapon—but it’s beenmeall along.

But with the Leonovs’ power came their curse. I think of Dr. Luka, peering into my eyes.What is your demon?I press my fingers to my temples, my skin clammy.

“I don’t understand,” I say. “If they had so much influence over Prism energy, how did you even have ahopeof revolting against them?”

He nods, picking up a second glass to pour into. “We built ships that ran purely on solar power. They were slow and mostly useless—but they were beyond the Leonovs’ control. We used ancient gunpowder weapons; we didn’t rely on a single piece of Prism tech. And we knew we only had one shot at it, because the element of surprise was our only advantage. We couldn’t have sustained a full-scale war against their superior weapons and ships, so we had to take the Autumn Palace in the course of an hour, or all hope would be lost. But we did it.”

With a sigh, he replaces the bottle of wine. “Humanity was never meant to be ruled by gods, and that is what the Leonovs had made of themselves. Pyotr would do anything to keep the code from falling into enemy hands, and so he killed himself and his family, and the poison he used corrupted their DNA. They even flooded the ventilation system with a toxic agent that scoured any traces of their DNA from the palace. The Firebird had slipped from our grasp, and with it, our last chance at true freedom.” He smiles. “Until, of course, we realized Anya Leonova still lived.”

“You thinkIcan control Prismic energy?” I shake my head. “I swear, I’ve never felt anything close to what you’re describing.”

He returns to the sofa, carrying the two glasses of wine. “I believe Pyotr deactivated the code before he had you smuggled away. The Firebird is dormant inside you, waiting to be awoken. All we have to do is figure out how to turn it on.”

“And then you can wipe out your enemies, just like the Leonovs did. You’ll be no different than they were. You’reworse.”

His eyes settle on me, and something slinks across them—something dark, something dangerous. Almost as if there are another pair of eyes hidden inside his, and now they’ve awoken and fixed on me. I freeze under them, swallowing my voice.He craves to be the hero, Zhar had said. Calling him a villain is like digging a knife under his armor, I realize, probing the sensitive skin underneath.

“I have no such ambition,” he says quietly. “I seek to protect humanity, and if that requires sacrifice, then so be it.”

He hands me a glass, and I take it automatically, still tasting the metallic fear those hidden eyes inflicted.

Then I taste the wine, and choke.

I’d recognize my father’s vintage anywhere. The liquid in the glass tastes like Amethyne, like violet sunlight and dark soil and the warm wood of the slinke trees.

It tastes like home.

I look up at Volkov, hatred pulsing through me.

“It truly is an excellent wine,” he says, studying his own glass. “A pity this was the last bottle.”

My hand shakes as I set the glass down.

“Now,” he says, “I’ll have you shown to your room. You will be treated with utmost respect during your time with us, Anya, rest assured. Despite everything behind us, I hope you will come to see me as a friend.”

I stare at him, wondering if he actually believes his own lies.

The door opens and a girl walks in, coming to attention before Volkov. “Sir?”

“Ah, Anya. Meet your new bodyguard.”