You’re embarrassed.
Why wouldn’t I be? You shouldn’t have seen that...
And now I wonder why you’re so cocky.
Ryke stiffened. Because I am the best, I’ve always been the best. Top of the class. Tallest, strongest, brightest. I’ve worked hard for that, because it’s right for the son of the emperor to be better than his peers. I’ve always won.
Until the day it really mattered.
My father was humiliated. I couldn’t blame him for that. He never spoke to me in public again. He relieved me of my imperial duties and took custody of my son, as was only right.
Anguissa was silent for a long moment. You said ‘we’ never ask permission before slipping. Does that mean umbros in general or just those of your lineage?
My father is the emperor. He has the right... Ryke’s thoughts faded to silence as Anguissa shuffled through his own memories.
He was startled that she could do that, but had no time to ask. The host shouldn’t have been able to review or revise his memories. Ryke was supposed to be the influence hers.
At the beginning, the hydra was weak. She showed him the hydra as it entered the arena and he had to agree with her assessment. Its manner did change, as if a jolt ripped through its body.
I told you. That was when it saw me.
No, Ryke. Anguissa showed his quick scan of the imperial box, but slowed it down, lingering on the sight of his father sleeping during the battle. Who’s that? Her attention was fixed on her father’s custo, Wayling.
Standing vigilant, his pale eyes fixed on his patron.
The conclusion was inevitable, if shocking.
Ryke’s father had slipped during the fight.
While Ryke fought for his survival, while he struggled to prove himself, his father had slipped! Where had he gone? Why hadn’t he watched?
Anguissa’s attention returned to the invigorated hydra, the fury in its eyes and its sudden power. Let me guess. Your father didn’t want you to prove yourself worthy.
Her conclusion was obvious and Ryke was shocked again. He wanted to defend his father and that man’s high ideals, but he had no words.
His father had slipped into the hydra, purely to defeat him, and teach him a public lesson. To disinherit him for cause.
But not quite kill you. What a merciful emperor he is. Anguissa’s tone was wry even as Ryke was reeling from her conclusions.
His father had betrayed him.
No! Impossible! He was his father’s heir, his father’s pride and joy. His father had supported him and seen him trained and given him every advantage...
Anguissa snorted. Your father has his own agenda.
She was doing it. She was twisting the truth and making him believe it.
Abomination! Ryke roared and recoiled.
Anguissa was a dragon shifter. He had been warned from childhood of the powers of such a creature. Ryke had always been skeptical of those stories, but Anguissa’s ability to review his memories and manipulate them, as well as her attempts to change his thinking about his own father, were more than adequate proof.
Revulsion rose within him and he felt her flinch. She was right to be afraid. He should exterminate her, start the bleeding, and save himself while he could.
But did she really carry his child? What would be the child’s nature? Ryke didn’t care—he had to ensure the survival of his own child.
Anguissa had to survive so that the child would survive.
If it existed.
He couldn’t kill her until he knew for sure.
It could only be a mark of how much she’d meddled with what he knew to be true that the realization filled him with relief.
He’d have to pretend to believe her conclusions about his father.
Ryke took a deep breath, mustered his thoughts, and remained in Anguissa’s mind.
All he had to do was get back to Centurios alive.
He hoped that he could keep his sanity—and his secrets—that long.
Six
Anguissa mistook the reason for Ryke’s silence, probably assuming that he was devastated by the revelation of his father’s betrayal.
I’m sorry to have shocked you so badly.
It’s all right.
It’s not all right! You think you’re a failure and a discredit to your father, but you’re wrong, Ryke. Look. Look at how they admire you. She showed him the gladiators honoring him, the ranks of cheering citizens awaiting him in the arena, the cheers when he struck a blow and the moans when he fell. She let him hear the chanting of his name and showed him the agitation of the crowd when he was defeated.
She was seductive. It was easy to think as if he believed her, because part of him did.
The other gladiators poured into the arena to kill the hydra, and he recalled watching it through the haze of his pain. They had taken it down so easily that he appeared to be even more weak.
But as Anguissa showed him that memory, Ryke looked at the creature’s eyes. They were dull again, cloudy. It wavered on its feet as if it was already half-dead, restored to the feeble desperation it had shown at first.
Had that truly been the case, or had Anguissa changed his memory? It wasn’t consistent with what he had believed or remembered.
His father was on his feet in the imperial box, calling for the demise of the savage beast.
His hand on Ryko Primus’s shoulder. Ryke remembered that.
Anguissa wasn’t done. Where were you when the Gloria Furore took you, Ryke?
What difference does it make?
Indulge me.
I abducted Ryko Primus when I was forbidden to even see him. We were snatched on the way to our new life.
What a coincidence.
Ryke was impatient. It would look suspicious if he agreed to all of her suggestions. It was bad luck, Snake-Eyes. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Gloria Furore have launched raiding parties on Centurios for eons...
She turned to watch him, understanding in her eyes. So, it was just a coincidence that they kept only you, the son of the emperor, exactly when your father wanted to get rid of you?
It sounded so obvious when she argued it that way.
It made him feel like a failure all over again.
And that redoubled his conviction that she was deceiving him.
And your son?
They ransomed him. My father paid the price.
But not for you?
No one pays ransom on an outlaw.
Ryke’s fists clenched. He slipped from Anguissa’s thoughts, needing to escape the treacherous skill she showed in manipulating his assumptions. He felt like a child, an amateur, an umbro inexperienced with slipping, instead of the master he knew himself to be. He’d achieved the highest rank of skill before being captured by the Gloria Furore and it wasn’t something he was going to forget. Bakiel slumbered on beside him, oblivious thanks to the jump.
Anguissa rolled toward him, her hand on his cheek, and touched her lips to his ear. “Come back, Ryke,” she whispered. “We still have to get out of this mess, and I’m not looking forward to being sold to the highest bidder. Come back, so I’ll know what you know.”
She pressed a kiss into his ear, a sweet slow kiss, sending an unwelcome surge of desire through him. He wouldn’t have thought it possible that he could have responded to her touch, not here, not now, not when his mind was spinning, but he felt warm and reassured.
She was controlling him so deftly that he should have been terrified.
Instead, he wanted to trust her.
Ryke knew he was in trouble—and not just from Hellemut.
“I’ll even let you be on top again,” she murmured, laughter underlying her tone. That she could be amused when they were in such deep shit impressed Ryke. It wasn’t that she was stupid. It wasn’t that she failed to understand their bleak situation.
She was an optimist. A confident, charming, optimist.
And Ryke yearned to have some of her spirit himself. Just th
e sound of her voice made him ready to fight again, fed his confidence, reminded him of all those things a luxa was supposed to bring to an umbro.
Could all of the myth be true?
No, she was trying to seduce him into believing it. Weaving it into the story she wanted him to believe with a skill that took his breath away.
“Although,” she mused. “It is kind of interesting to have you at my mercy like this.” He felt her run a proprietary hand over him. Her caress was welcome, solace when he needed it most. He studied her and was relieved to see that her gaze was clear and confident again, those flames dancing in her eyes. She looked as if she would take on the universe and give it a good fight, as if she’d go down swinging—if she went down at all. Ryke wanted to really kiss her even as the display flickered on the far wall.
“Looks like we’ll have company soon,” Anguissa said and rose to her feet, snakes swaying, ready for another round. How many jumps had she endured in rapid succession? Ryke had to admire her stamina. He admired more than that as he watched her, hating that he was unable to stand alongside her. “Strength is where you find it, Ryke,” Anguissa murmured. “You can choose to use the power you have.”
It was true. The drug still held his body in thrall, but he wasn’t completely helpless.
He had his mind.
He had his skill.
He could accept her invitation. It would be a feint, because she’d believe they were allied, but neither of them would survive alone.
It was the best of an array of bad choices.
Now that he was warned of her powers, surely he could protect himself against them?
He was never going to see his son again otherwise.
Anguissa didn’t glance back, but as she strode forward to face the display, Ryke slipped.
Welcome back she thought, her tone amused but unsurprised. What’s a custo?
The one who watches over me while I slip.
More than a servant.
More than a friend. It’s a bond from birth.
But Bakiel’s asleep now.
That’s not the only rule I’m breaking with you, Princess.
There was exasperation in her tone when she replied. And you think it was unpredictable for you to come back for Bakiel? Oh, Ryke. If you continue to be so honorable, you might end up being my HeartKeeper, after all.
Ryke felt panic slide through him. There’s no such thing as love, Snake-Eyes.
Oh good, I’m safe then.
Was she mocking him? Without seeing her expression, Ryke couldn’t be sure.
You felt a bit worried there for a moment, Ryke. Is love that terrifying a possibility?
It’s a fiction, but sharing thoughts with someone who believes nonsense poses definite risks.
Anguissa chuckled under her breath. Her Starpod is in the hold. You can slip into her and make her return to it. Then we eject her, seize control of the freighter, and abandon her in this quadrant.
Ryke was dismissive of the suggestion. It doesn’t work like that. I can only compel the host to do what he or she already wants to do. There has to be some urge and Hellemut won’t leave this freighter.
All right then. She needs some motivation.
Good luck motivating her to do anything she doesn’t already want to do.
Oh, Ryke, you’re being defeatist.
Realist, Princess.
Let’s make a little bet.
This is serious...
It is. If I get her into the Starpod, I win.
Win what, Snake-Eyes?
Anguissa ignored his question and Ryke figured he could guess the answer. If she won, it wouldn’t be much of a loss on his part. She had a plan, and he was curious as to what it might be. He tried to investigate her mind, but she had him confined in a specific area, trapped where he could only see her present observations. Her past and her memories were like sealed vaults.
She shouldn’t have been able to to do that.
She should have been an open book to him.
He wasn’t surprised, not anymore, but he knew he should have been a lot more worried than he was.
It wasn’t a surprise that Anguissa wouldn’t follow anybody’s rules.
The communications screen snapped to life, displaying Captain Hellemut on the deck. She leered at them and Ryke was glad he was immobilized.
He wouldn’t have been able to hide his revulsion and that wouldn’t have helped them one bit.
Hellemut was already going to be vengeful, given that he’d refused to help her doppelganger survive.
When Anguissa had first ventured away from Incendium, she’d been surprised to discover how many sentient life forms in the universe were bipeds. She supposed that symmetry made for elegant design, and that having two of most body parts was the most efficient way of guarding against debilitating injuries. There were exceptions, though, and she could never become accustomed to tripeds.
She’d heard in space bars that tripeds could be doubly or even triply endowed, with a set of genitals at each junction, but Anguissa had never seen one naked. She didn’t want to. There was something about tripeds that disgusted her and she had a hard time keeping her expression impassive as she approached the display of Captain Hellemut.
Tripeds could travel at amazing speeds, but the coordination of their limbs while running required a higher level of fitness. In Anguissa’s experience, as tripeds aged, they either concentrated on their physical welfare, or they abandoned all pretense of remaining agile and became sedentary.
Captain Hellemut was of the latter variety. She was monstrously large, with skin of a deep yellow hue, and her green eyes seemed to be half buried in her face. Her malice was clear, though, and not to be under-estimated.
They were alive still, which meant they were useful.
Or valuable.
Why?
Anguissa had to think that her own survival was due to Hellemut’s desire to claim the Archangel.
Which had to be about that cargo.
How much did Ryke know about the Gloria Furore and their plans?
It was time to find that out. Anguissa sought a memory, then pulled it to the fore of her thoughts before she could reconsider the urge to trust an umbro who was already in her mind.
Can you read this, Ryke?
She felt him recoil. It was the warning label on the most carefully packed item in that bootleg cargo and the one that had fascinated Anguissa. The container itself was of the kind used for biohazards, and its presence was the reason she’d quarantined the hold of the Archangel.
His reaction spoke volumes, but Anguissa wanted more.
Can you?
Where did you see that, Snake-Eyes?
It’s in the hold of the Archangel.
Then you did look!
Of course, I looked. I’m not going to haul garbage across the galaxy, given the price of fuel these days.
Ryke sighed. Then the stories are true. Before Anguissa could ask, he continued. There have been rumors of a virus being bred in the illicit labs of Gungalorus, engineered to affect all carbon-based life forms. A custom job.
I can guess the client.
You’d guess right. There are also rumors that it was stolen by the lead bio-chemist, now dead. Hellemut received coded messages about it after your first appearance near the Armada Seven.
And you broke the code.
Call it a hobby.
The Gloria Furore could hold any system hostage over the threat of releasing such a virus upon their populace. They’d paid for its creation and it had been stolen. Of course, they’d want it back.
Hellemut might want it badly enough to let Anguissa live for a while longer.
Would it be long enough?
After? So, that’s not why Bond planted the worm?
No, it wasn’t. Wait. You’ve decided Bond was the culprit?
Don’t gloat, Ryke, just because you were right. She heard him chuckle. Is it a deadly virus?
What other kind would matter?
/> Excellent. Now we have something to bargain with.
Snake-Eyes....
Quiet, Ryke. I’m going to steal this freighter and it isn’t going to be easy. Helpful comments only, please. This isn’t a good time for me to fail.
“You will understand, Princess Anguissa, that I am reluctant to invite you to the deck to parlay, given your destructiveness in the Armada Seven,” Hellemut said.
“I suppose you can’t be too cautious,” Anguissa replied. “Although insulting me when I control everything you desire might be seen as a diplomatic mistake.”
“Everything I desire? Surely you exaggerate.”
Anguissa just smiled.
Hellemut’s sobered. “And what cause have you for insult?”
“Being attacked. Being locked in the chart room with a known traitor.”
“You did destroy the nav system of the Armada Seven, condemning that crew.”
Anguissa waved a hand, pretending to care less than she did. “Minions aren’t worthy of my concern.” She didn’t feel badly that there were fewer members of the Gloria Furore using oxygen, although she felt badly for those in the crew who’d been enslaved. On the other hand, death might have been a relief, compared to serving under Hellemut’s command.
“And my survival?”
“That wasn’t you. It was one of your doppelgangers.” Anguissa leaned closer. “You might be one of Hellemut’s doppelgangers. I’m not convinced that the real Captain Hellemut would risk her survival by boarding this freighter.”
Hellemut smirked. “Where is the risk? This freighter is under the complete control of the Gloria Furore. We set a trap for Ryke and he took the bait.”
“Why?”
“I never trust an umbro. He might not have slipped during his torture, but that was only because his custo wasn’t with him.”
“I thought umbros were myths,” Anguissa replied but Hellemut shook her head.
“They’re very useful spies. We like to convince all of them who cross our paths to join our ranks. Ryke was, unfortunately, resistant to such persuasion. It would have been so much easier for him to capitulate.”
Anguissa already knew that surrender wasn’t in Ryke’s vocabulary. “And yet I felt strangely compelled to destroy the Armada Seven as soon as I arrived on the transport deck and then to flee with Ryke. I think he must have slipped and used me for his own nefarious purposes.”