Page 21 of Returned to the Vissigroth (The Vissigroths of Leander #6)

K avryn’s voice echoed ahead of us as he led the way. “It’s just around this bend. We were digging down to see if the river runs underneath here, and then our drill hit this air pocket.”

He was walking with that same smug stride I remembered from the last civil war, shoulders too square, chin lifted half an inch higher than it should be.

Kavryn had always been a fine soldier; that much was true.

Even under Kennenryn’s bloody reign, he followed orders with precision and discipline.

But where the rest of us fought to end tyranny, he’d seemed almost… comfortable in it.

He never questioned Kennenryn’s executions.

Never flinched at the brutal suppression of Groyk's supporters.

And when I stood trial for refusing the order to torch an entire civilian colony suspected of harboring Groyk sympathizers, Kavryn had been one of the loudest voices against me.

Said I was too soft to be a vissigroth. That I let sentiment cloud my blade.

Why would Myccael place him here? In charge of a site crawling with secrets no one understood?

To keep him busy, maybe? To get him away from court? Or because Myccael, like me, knew Kavryn would obey any mission to the letter. He didn’t have vision, but he had efficiency. That made him useful, I supposed.

We rounded the bend, and then I saw it. It looked like we had stepped into someone's living quarters.

Perfectly preserved, besides some dust and one corner that must have burned at some point.

My gaze moved to the artificially vaulted ceiling, from which hung…

a light fixture of some kind I had never seen before.

Cylindric and faceted, more decorative than practical.

It was still on. Not very bright, but it worked.

I didn't believe for a moment that this place had power, so the source had to be inside the lamp itself.

Snyg, what was this place?

Daphne stepped over to what looked like a gray slab of concrete in the shape of a couch.

I wanted to call her back, to tell her not to touch anything, but stopped myself in time.

She wasn't a child. And no matter what my instincts told me, there was nothing evil here that would jump at her.

Multiple lights made sure of it. There was not one shadow in this area.

"Oh," Daphne exclaimed when her fingers brushed over the couch . There was a table in front of it, covered in dust, and I realized that the dust must have come from the ceiling when… whatever happened, happened here.

An oval, large object hung crooked on one wall, its surface reminded me of a palmtop, just a lot larger and mounted on the wall. It was an interesting concept, one I could see being useful.

I watched Daphne's feet leave imprints on the debris-covered ground. Hers weren't the first. A multitude of them had nearly cleaned the floor. Enough that I could make out a patterned, deep green surface. There was no doubt in my mind that this place had been someone's living quarters.

"We've left everything as we found it for now. I don't know if Tovahr told you, but our susserayn is on his way here." Kavryn filled me in.

"Ney, that's news to me," I admitted, then turned to Zavahr, the archivist. "What makes you think this is Zuten?"

The male stepped forward and pointed at a small box on the wall, the only object next to the oval flat screen, that appeared to have been cleaned.

“The markings match recovered relics from Gorgolum's lower vaults—almost exactly. The resonance pattern is similar, too. We didn’t want to speculate until we had confirmation. But there’s no denying it now. ”

"I'm sorry, Zuten? Gorgolum?" Daphne asked, and I realized she had no idea what we were talking about. I hadn't mentioned the Zuten to her, much like a lot of other things, namely that she was a grandmother… I closed my eyes. There was still so much she didn't know.

“A few cycles ago, Myles, the Vissigroth of Oceanus, discovered that many hundreds of thousands of rotations ago, our ancestors, the Zutens, had a thriving civilization on the Fourteen Planets.

Well," I amended, "mainly on Oceanus, but some made it out before the catastrophe hit.

From what it looks like, they made it to Leander, too. "

"Catastrophe?" Daphne echoed.

Snygg, I wasn't doing a good job of filling her in. I was a soldier, not a male of words.

"From what we learned, they were the first,” I said softly. “The oldest civilization known to Leander. They mastered biotechnics and gravity-based travel, enough for them to spread through the fourteen planets. They built cities and temples, and then they vanished.”

Daphne tilted her head. “Vanished how?”

Zavahr cleared his throat, and I nodded my assent, relieved to have a more capable male explain this to her, “It’s believed they attempted to regulate the weather systems of their homeworld, Sorintos, the world you know as Oceanus, using a series of layered atmospheric stabilizers and magnetic regulators.

But they miscalculated, badly. The result was a cataclysm.

Constant storms. Torrential rain. Entire cities drowned beneath rising seas.

My ancestors were driven into the mountains.

Some survived inside a mountain called Gorgolum . ”

“Oh," Daphne exclaimed, and her beautiful features scrunched up adorably, as she remembered Oceanus. Or I hoped she did. I still wasn't sure what she knew and what she had forgotten.

"Oceanus, the planet covered in water?" She made sure, proving that she did remember that part.

My heart felt heavy when I realized that she remembered the world, and maybe Myles' father, but not her and me, on a boat, riding the waves with incredible speed.

She had laughed so loud and heartily… the sound still echoed in my heart.

I blinked the memories back; they had no room here and now, but sadness filled me at the thought of all the things Daphne didn't know.

All the people who had been her friends, those who had died, all the kids she had known who were grown-ups now.

For her, the time stopped when she… when she…

died. For the first time, I wondered if maybe it was a mercy that she didn't remember.

Maybe Grandyr hadn't been cruel at all by making her forget.

“Zyn,” Zavahr answered darkly. “The other males and I thought we were the only ones left. Our world was inside Gorgolum, inside a cave. It was only us and the sirens.”

Daphne still seemed confused, and my heart went out to her. Before I could explain, she asserted, "I'm still confused. Are you saying you and the other males are hundreds of thousands of rotations old?"

Zavahr chuckled. "Ney. I'm sorry, Vissy Daphne, I'm not explaining this right, and I'm way ahead of myself. Allow me to clarify. My ancestors lived inside the cave for hundreds of thousands of rotations. My generation and I are the first ever to see the light of the sun again. To travel outside."

Daphne's expression turned sympathetic, "I'm sorry, that must have been… incredibly hard."

"Thank you, Vissy. We didn't know any better. I feel sorry for all the males before me, who never knew…" he drifted off, saddened.

"Males? Wait." Daphne shook her head, and I realized her problem.

I cut in. " Sirens kept the Zuten locked up inside that cave. They kept their identity hidden for all these rotations."

Understanding bloomed on her face. She must have known that Sirens were only females.

Incredibly beautiful creatures. But as beautiful as they were on the outside, they were just as rotten on the inside.

They kept the Zuten males as breeders for their offspring.

Seffies were taken in by the Sirens, and males were given to the Zuten to raise as the next generation of sperm donors.

"Had Niara not realized that Vissigroth Myles' main city was built next to an active volcano… disaster could have struck at any time, and nobody would have ever found the Zuten." I filled her in on the last piece of the puzzle.

I left out all the gory details. How the Crymphten had planned an attack on Oceanus to weaken us, how the Sirens took Myles hostage, and Niara freed him. And most of all, I left out that our Thalia gave birth on Oceanus to our granddaughter, Zara.

"Alright, are we done with the history lesson?" Kavryn cut in, and I threw him a scalding glare.

Before I could voice my displeasure with him or cut him down a few measures, Daphne put a beseeching hand on my arm, as if she sensed I was about to explode.

It was a gesture so like her, a gesture she had given me far too many times to count.

It hurt and felt incredibly soothing at the same time.

"You're right, my apologies, Kavryn. But please bear with me.

" She turned to Zavahr, "I'm intrigued. Please continue.

From what I gathered, the Zuten lived on Oceanus, or Sorintos, as you called it, zyn?

" She waited for Zavahr to nod. "So them having been living here on Leander is a surprise? "

"Zyn," Zavahr nodded. He pointed at the box again. "The writing on here, it's definitely Zuten. This box was used to adjust the climate and lights in this place."

I strode toward the askew screen on the wall. "Has this given any information? It looks like a giant palmtop."

Zavahr shook his head, "We were leaving everything as we found it, we wanted Susseray Myc?—"

A static noise coming from Kavryn's palmtop stopped him. Kavryn answered, his expression turned enigmatic as he nodded. "We're ready for him." And then to us, "Our susserayn has arrived."

My gaze moved automatically to Daphne, who tensed. A whisper escaped her, "Myccael."

The name rolled off her lips like something sacred.

Something… intimate. And it twisted in my chest like a blade I hadn’t seen coming.

Of course he was coming. This was his project.

His territory. His magrail cutting through the bones of a world we didn't even know had existed.

The entire excavation pulsed with danger and meaning, and Myccael would never miss a chance to stand at the center of it.

But all I could think about was Daphne.

Would she die again, once she delivered her message?

The thought sent a cold spike through me, slicing past flesh and bone, right into whatever fragile hope I’d been holding onto since she was returned to me. Because Grandyr hadn’t just given her back—he’d sent her with a purpose. And once that purpose was fulfilled…

Gods. Ney.

That couldn’t happen.

I wouldn’t allow it.

But what if it wasn’t my choice?

She stood beside me now, her fingers curled near the hem of her tunic, her face pale but resolute as she watched Kavryn bark orders to the workers and signal the lift for Myccael’s arrival.

Her eyes were locked on the passage, but her thoughts were far away.

I knew her well enough, knew the stillness of her body was anything but peace.

It was dread. It was memory pressing at the edges of her soul, desperate to be let in.

I wanted to pull her away. Steal a nicta and vanish into the mountains with her, back to Hoerst, or somewhere the gods couldn’t find us. But that was foolishness. She wouldn’t come, not without finishing what she started. And I loved her too much to make her choose.

So I stood there, anchored to the spot by duty and by fear. I could already hear the distant echo of boots approaching. Leander dragoons in perfect formation. Protocol and power wrapped in black and steel. His procession was moving fast, efficient as always.

Then, he appeared.

Myccael.

He stepped through the passage flanked by his elite, his black and silver armor gleaming under the artificial lights, his long coat sweeping behind him.

He moved with the kind of grace that only came from complete control, over himself, over others, over fate.

He was taller than I remembered. Sharper.

Hardened into a blade of command. His eyes scanned the room the way a king might survey a battlefield. Dispassionate. Exacting.

Until they landed on me. The change was immediate.

A warm grin broke across his face. “Father,” he said, stepping forward. “What a surprise. I thought you left—” His words faltered the moment Daphne stepped out from behind me.

The world tilted. He looked confused, his eyes locked on her face, and all the air seemed to leave the chamber. “Thalia?” he asked, in a rough and bewildered voice, like he’d just seen a ghost.

Daphne stiffened beside me.

Under different circumstances, this moment would have been funny, but the way it was, it was anything but.

Myccael's expression shifted, from shock to disbelief, then to something tangled and uncertain. I couldn’t blame him.

The resemblance between mother and daughter was uncanny.

Especially with the rotations stripped from Daphne, with the radiance of her returned life softening her face, it was almost impossible not to see Thalia in her. They could have been twins.

“It’s not Thalia,” I said quietly. “It’s her mother.”

Silence.

Myccael’s gaze flicked to me, then back to Daphne. “That’s not possible.”

“I know,” Daphne said. Her voice was calm, but I could feel the tremor beneath it. “But here I am.”

He took a slow step forward. “You—You died.”

“I did,” she said softly. “And now I’ve returned. I don’t know why. Not fully. Only that I need to speak with you. And that it cannot wait.”

Myccael looked between us, war battling with wonder in his eyes. “Grandyr…” he whispered. “It had to be him."

“Zyn,” I answered.

He shook his head once, sharply, as if trying to clear it. “Snyg. All this time. You were… What are you now?” He looked at her, not as a soldier, not even as a king, but as a boy who had once grieved for the only mother he had ever known.

“I don’t know,” Daphne admitted. “But I’m here. And I think the train… the rail… has something to do with it.”

He blinked, then turned toward the archway at the end of the chamber. Beyond it, the Zuten apartment waited, full of secrets that had waited longer than any of us had lived.

“She said the magrail must be stopped,” I added, stepping forward.