“Yes.”
“And what would I get for this? Will I survive?”
“We both know that cannot happen now.”
Cygna opened her mouth like she wanted to laugh at his audacity, but then the extent of her plight seemed to sink in. A certain dimness came to her face. “I choose whether I sleep for the journey ahead of me. You will give me an injectable sedative to take as I wish. Something fast-acting.”
“A simple enough request. Thank you, Grandmother, for asking me for something I can reasonably give. Now for your end of this bargain . . .” He gestured her back up onto the dais.
Cygna’s eyes narrowed. She stiffly mounted the stairs and turned on the crowd, appearing torn between a fierce, unbending dignity and a need to scream for help, to panic. “I killed Randevald. The . . .” Her voice faltered a moment, as though even the hard-hearted Cygna needed to choke back tears. “The sole issue of my womb and my most beloved son. It haunts me, and it will until the void of death claims me. I have killed many others of my family, but I’ve done so only for the good of the Empire, and I regret nothing.”
Tyrus laid his hand on her shoulder, his face sharp and intent. “And what else?”
Cygna’s mouth bobbed open and closed. She hadn’t expected this. “What . . . else?”
Tyrus held her eyes as though sending her a silent message. Then he inclined his head in my direction.
Cygna’s lips curled at the corners, her face cold as though she was weighing the thought of that sedative. Then she looked squarely at me, still wearing that strange smile. “If this is the burden you wish to take upon yourself, far be it from me to stop you, Tyrus. You’re stumbling into your own destruction by courting these Excess, so you might as well take it a step further and unite yourself with an abomination against nature. Nemesis dan Impyrean, it was I who engineered the death of your master, Sidonia.”
Her. Her. The world seemed to drop out from under me, and I felt like I wasn’t breathing.
“My Diabolics unearthed your plot against me, so I urged the Pasus girl toward the action, and suggested the Anointing might be a wonderful opportunity to carry it out. I instructed her on just what to say to lead your suspicions toward my nephew. The fool girl didn’t even understand why I wanted her to say such things when she was about to kill you anyway, but she did it—and never realized she was weaving her own demise. Since I wished Tyrus dead, she was useless to me.” Her hard gaze moved back to Tyrus. “I trust that confession pleases you?”
A buzz filled my ears. I felt dizzy, barely able to concentrate on Tyrus’s voice: “I thank you for your honesty,” he said. “Would you like to be sedated now?”
“I will walk to my own death.”
“I understand.” There was respect on Tyrus’s face. He took her by the shoulders and pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I thank you, Grandmother, for all that you have taught me.”
With that, Cygna raised her chin and threw a last look around the heliosphere—at her unconscious Diabolics, the crowd of implacable foes, and at me, the one she’d intended for the death she was about to meet herself.
“I see you truly are the most cunning of the Domitrians, Tyrus,” she said, delivering her last words as was her right. “In these recent weeks, I earnestly believed we were working together, that perhaps you were the heir to create a greater Empire at my side. But instead you were plotting my death. Woe to you all, for you are now ruled by a most clever fiend. The dawn of his reign sees this most sacred space littered with victims of his treachery. Quite fitting for the most pernicious of my descendants. You have brought your fates on yourselves.” Her voice dropped to a whisper only I could hear. “As have I.”
Her body shook so violently, I could see it even beneath her great ceremonial gown, and the sedative nearly dropped from her hand when a doctor nan Domitrian stepped forward and offered it on a cushion. She pocketed it, stiffened her shoulders, and marched toward her crystalline tomb, lowering herself into the enclosure and stretching out there as the clear crystal slid closed behind her.
As we watched, Cygna’s tomb detached itself from the heliosphere and shot off into the dark, on course for the brightest star in the solar system. If it reached that star and burned, it was a good omen for the reign of Emperor Tyrus von Domitrian. If it was destroyed by the system’s gravitational forces first, then lies would be spread that it had reached the star anyway.
My mind reeled, all the certainty of my imminent death ripped from me. And now Cygna’s words were in my mind, infecting me with doubts, because I was utterly desperate to believe them. I wanted to believe one of the two people I loved in this universe hadn’t killed the other.
But if she’d spoken just to get the sedative, if she’d lied . . .
Tyrus had told me once that a palatable lie was easily swallowed. If this was a lie, it was one so appealing, I was desperate to believe it.
Tyrus stepped down from his dais, and he was blinding like the sun itself with his halo of hair done in the Helionic ceremonial fashion, his effervescent gold ceremonial coat. But in that face that could look utterly ruthless, there was a softness, a need, and he said, “Nemesis, did you hear her speak?”
I looked up at him, so wary, choking on uncertainty. “How could I miss it?”
“I did this for you. This was all for you. The universe may deliver itself into my possession, and I’ll still feel as though I’ve lost everything without you by my side. I am madly in love with you, and I hope to all the stars you still feel something for me.”
I stammered as I spoke: “Swear—swear to me you didn’t have a hand in Donia’s death.”
He pressed his hands to his heart. “Nemesis, I swear to you. I did not do it.”
Still I hesitated. Sidonia’s face flashed through my vision, begging me to be careful. But the temptation to rise, to take Tyrus’s hand, chased swiftly after. He was everything I still wanted, yet I could not dishonor her. . . .
But Sidonia had wanted me to be happy.
The realization washed through me, and I swallowed. I thought of her delight when I discovered feelings, when I found love.
“If I ever discover this is not the truth,” I warned him softly, “I will be merciless.”
He smiled. “And I’d expect nothing less from you, my love. Now take my hand.”
If he was her murderer, I had a lifetime to figure it out. I could avenge her tomorrow if I learned he’d done it. I could avenge her in ten years if I learned in ten years, and I’d have ten beautiful years before that. I would always mourn Sidonia, but I had survived this loss once and I could survive it again.
I raised my eyes to the new Emperor, to that figure like a gleaming sun rising high above me, offering one of its golden beams to bathe me in its glory, but not just the Emperor—Tyrus, the young man who plotted with me and confided in me and explained lightning to me and kissed me . . .
I took his hand.
His face broke into a glorious smile as he raised me up onto the dais with him. We stood above the heliosphere of Grandiloquy and Excess, and the allies of Tyrus even now clearing away his opponents—now his prisoners. His grip felt sure and strong on mine. His gaze was intense enough to set me afire. I swept my eyes over the room, seeing the battlefield where he’d finally outmaneuvered Cygna Domitrian.
This massacre was what he’d contrived in the month spent consolidating his power as the new Emperor. It must’ve been easier for him to gain allies as the incoming Emperor than it had been as a Successor Primus of dubious reputation. He’d worked with the Luminars and snuck them in as new employees. He’d figured out Cygna’s supporters and neutralized them all at once. And he’d played along with my sacrifice in a show of submission to Cygna, planning all along that she should take my place instead.
It shouldn’t surprise me anymore to find Tyrus thinking ten steps ahead of everyone around him. Someone capable of
doing this had no need to kill Sidonia Impyrean just to secure my life, surely.
I needed to believe it, and so I did. I made up my mind. I chose the truth Tyrus offered me and hoped desperately it would never come to taste bitter.
The vicar was escorted in to anoint Tyrus with oils as befitted the new Emperor. But when he reached for Tyrus’s hand, he found it linked with mine. And Tyrus would not unlink with me as we stood together before the Helionic vicar.
The vicar recoiled. “That’s a Diabolic,” he said, aghast. “I can’t bless a Diabolic.”
I made to withdraw my hand, but Tyrus clutched me tightly, his eyes fastened upon the vicar. “I would prefer to retain your services at the Chrysanthemum. I see no reason our aims must be opposed. But if you will not anoint her, you will not anoint me. Nemesis will be my Empress.”
“This is an abomination against the Living Cosmos. No Emperor can forgo his anointing, and I will not bless a Diabolic!”
Tyrus just smiled. “Look around, vicar. This is a new era. And if need be, it will leave you behind.”
With that, he drew my knuckles to his cheek and turned away from the vicar. There were a few sharp, indrawn breaths across the Great Heliosphere, but none dared to speak up against the new Emperor Tyrus von Domitrian. As he stepped down with me, leaving the vicar where he stood with his phial of unused, star-blessed oil, the cheering arose and pounded in our ears.
The Grandiloquy and the Excess on all sides parted for us to pass, and my heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest, for I knew the import of what Tyrus was doing. He was not just leaving the Helionics behind, but all those who cleaved to the old ways.
In the doorway, I roused as though waking from a dream. “Tyrus, how can this happen?” I turned to him. “You can take risks as a new Emperor, but this Empire won’t tolerate you wedding a Diabolic. Even the Excess think me an abomination!”
“I’ll make any sacrifice for the era I wish to enter, Nemesis,” he answered me, his eyes intent on mine. “But not this one. Not you. Never you.”
Cygna had said once that power had a way of changing people. As I stared up at Tyrus, a peculiar foreboding wisped through me. I could not know what awaited us in the months and years ahead, but I could only hope this cunning of his remained as noble, as pure as I believed it was—or Tyrus had all the makings of a most terrifying Emperor.
Then he drew me close and kissed me in full view of the Great Heliosphere.
His lips felt right: soft and warm. I twined my arms about him, Tyrus in his ceremonial garb and me in the clothes I’d intended to wear to my death.
Some might call us a monstrous pair, and they would be right. Tyrus and I were both scorpions in our way, dangerous creatures crossing the most treacherous of rivers together. Together we might sting—but we also would float.
Perhaps scorpions were the only ones who could save each other.
Whatever lay ahead, it would always be the two of us above the rest of the universe, and woe to any who dared step in our path.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For some reason, I always struggle with acknowledgments. It gets trickier every single book because the number of people who should have my recognition, thanks, and gratitude only increases as my career matures, and I live in mortal terror of leaving people out.
Meredith Duran, because in addition to being an amazing sister, you are also the most amazing beta reader I’ve ever had. Thank you for your keen eye for characterization and your instinctive feel for the necessities of a compelling romance. I honestly don’t think The Diabolic would have reached this place without you.
To those others I love most: Mom, Dad, Rob, Matt, Betsey, Stella, Madeleine, Grace, and Sophia.
To my agent, Holly Root: You are a wonder. You’ve been everything I could have hoped for in an agent, and a great guide every time I’m not sure what’s happening, or where to go next. Thank you for giving me a second wind. I can’t wait to see what lies ahead of us in this partnership!!
Now on to Simon & Schuster Children’s folks: this is daunting. I have met such an extraordinary array of wonderful, enthusiastic, skilled folks that this list could stretch on perilously long and I’d still leave someone critical out. Some names: Stephanie Voros, Deane Norton, Alexa Pastor, Anne Zafian, Dorothy Gribbin, Chava Wolin, Chrissy Noh, KeriLee Horan, Katy Hershberger, Audrey Gibbons, Lucille Rettino, Michelle Leo, Betsy Bloom, Anthony Parisi, Candace McManus, Christina Pecorale, Gary Urda, Victor Iannone. I am sure I’ve missed people. I’ll just say that when I’ve seen your offices, interacted with people at long tables, I’ve been in awe of all of you, and so grateful to work with you on this book.
I must single out Lizzy Bromley for that incredible cover.
And now, most importantly: Justin Chanda. Justin, every author dreams of working with an editor like you. From the first day, your enthusiasm, insight, and expertise have been so priceless to me. I eagerly look forward to all the work we’re going to do together.
Some other publishing folks: my fellow YA writers, too many people to name at this point, who have provided insight, commiseration, and friendship during this process. Molly O’Neill, because we’ve become friends, and you were there at the beginning of my career. I’m so glad to remain connected with you always. Dana Spector, Barbara Poelle (thanks for giving Justin a heads-up!), and all the foreign publishers who have picked up this book.
And of course, thanks as always to David Dunton, Sarah Shumway, Laurel Symonds, and the other publishing folks from earlier in my career who will always have influence.
My real world people:
Judy and the Persoffs, Winnie and the Hattens, Todd, Barb and the Anticeviches.
Various friends, many of whose names I will forget to place here. Off the top of my head: Jackie, Leslie, Yae, Stephen, Abby, Tina, Heidi, Alice, Tim, Allison, Mark, Bryan, Amy.
A special shout-out to David Bishop. I may not have been right for that MA program, but your mentoring and advice truly helped me find my direction again. Thank you, and I hope to see what awaits you down the road!
Robert Graves, for writing I, Claudius and inspiring the BBC miniseries that inspired me to write this book!
And last but definitely not least, those amazing readers, bloggers, librarians, teachers, and booksellers who responded to the Insignia series. Thank you for your enthusiasm, your support, and the time you’ve dedicated to reading my work. You make everything possible!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
S. J. KINCAID originally wanted to be an astronaut, but a dearth of mathematical skills made her turn her interest to science fiction instead. Her debut novel, Insignia, was shortlisted for the Waterstones Children’s Book Prize. Its sequels Vortex and Catalyst have received stars from Kirkus Reviews and Booklist. She’s chronically restless and has lived in California, Alabama, New Hampshire, Oregon, Chicago, and Scotland with no signs of staying in one place anytime soon.
* * *
Thank you for reading this eBook.
Find out about free book giveaways, exclusive content, and amazing sweepstakes! Plus get updates on your favorite books, authors, and more when you join the Simon & Schuster Teen mailing list.
CLICK HERE TO LEARN MORE
or visit us online to sign up at
eBookNews.SimonandSchuster.com/teen
* * *
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2016 by S. J. Kincaid
Jacket illustration copy
right © 2016 by There Is Studio
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or
[email protected].
The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.
Book design by Lizzy Bromley
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Kincaid, S. J., author.
Title: The Diabolic / S. J. Kincaid.
Description: New York : Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, 2016. |
Summary: Nemesis is a Diabolic, a humanoid teenager and the galaxy’s most deadly weapon, who masquerades as Sidonia, a senator’s daughter, and becomes a hostage of the galactic court.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016003698 | ISBN 9781481472678 (hardback) | ISBN 9781481472692 (ebook)
Subjects: | CYAC: Science fiction. | Courts and courtiers—Fiction. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Action & Adventure / General. | JUVENILE FICTION / Science Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.K61926 Di 2016 | DDC [Fic]—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016003698
S. J. Kincaid, The Diabolic
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends