The man Tarquine had wanted.
Jaibriol knew he could never match Kelric, neither in ten years nor ten millennia. The Imperator's shadow would forever leave him in its chill.
The moonlight cast Corbal's face into planes of light and shadow, making him look even more like their ancestors, especially Eube Qox, who had founded the empire. "I've heard the Skolians ratified a treaty," Corbal said. "I've also heard an Imperator's life depends on who else signs." His words were dark gems, hard and brilliant. "Announce a triad instead and he will die."
Jaibriol didn't want to hear Corbal—and he couldn't stop listening. On Earth, Kelric had offered him a means to survive. Quis. What it would come to, Jaibriol didn't know, but Kelric believed it could help. It had been an act of compassion. He didn't want to envy his uncle. He didn't want to fear Kelric's effect on Tarquine. He wanted to put aside these insidious thoughts. But he couldn't forget.
Jaibriol also remembered the boy who had needed to believe the lives of his parents had mattered, the boy who thought he could make the difference they had dared envision. Yes, he remembered. He knew what had happened to that young fool.
The boy had died, replaced by a Highton emperor.
Kelric found Ixpar on the balcony of his bedroom in the ISC mansion. Starlight silvered her face. He stopped at the entrance, needing a moment to absorb that she was here and not on the Orbiter.
"When did you come?" he asked.
She turned with a start. "Kelric." Then she said, "I've been trying ever since you returned. They wouldn't let me until tonight."
He joined her at the retaining wall of the balcony, which came up to their waists. Below them, the tangled foliage of a dense forest carpeted the mountain slopes. "I'm surprised they let you at all. I'm still under arrest."
"Why would they convict you?" she asked. "You brought them the treaty."
"Emperor Qox hasn't acknowledged it."
She had a strange expression, as if an avalanche were poised above them, ready to fall. "And if he doesn't?"
He indicated at the forest. "Look at that."
She glanced at the trees, then back to him. "It's beautiful. But I'm not sure how it connects to the treaty."
Kelric answered softly. "When you know it may be the last time you see a view, it becomes that much lovelier." He was gazing at her rather than the forest. She had let her hair down, and tendrils curled around her face, glossy in the starlight. "So very lovely."
Her face gentled. "They won't kill you."
"Perhaps I deserve it."
"How can you say that?" She had that look he remembered, the one he could never avoid, as if she could see past his silences and into the heart of his fears. "You offered your people a miracle."
"At what price?" He turned to the forest and leaned his elbows on the wall, staring at the rich green life. "I took a chance. I may have been wrong."
She stood with him. "You don't have your dice pouch."
"I lost it on Earth."
Her voice quieted. "On Coba, in our Old Age, the men in the Calanya had a custom. It was rare even then, and it fell out of practice many centuries ago."
"Coba has gone through many changes," Kelric said. Most of the recent ones, unfortunately, were because of him. He had sworn to protect them, and he had genuinely believed he could. He regretted it more now than he could say, for all he had offered them was upheaval and possibly his death.
"In the Old Age, men couldn't inherit property," Ixpar said. "But Calani found a way around that."
He looked over at her. "How?"
"A father would give his son his Calanya dice. They called it the Gift of Quis. It symbolized the father teaching the son how he played. And the Quis of a Calani is his essence. Almost his soul." Softly she said, "It was a great act of trust."
Kelric had thought his son meant it literally when he portrayed him as Jaibriol's father, but now he wondered. "Does my son know about this custom?"
"I don't think so." She rested her palms on the wall as she looked over the mountains. "But sometimes, with the most gifted Calani, the line between their Quis and precognition blurs." She glanced at him. "I used to see that in yours."
"Jaibriol Qox sees me as a rival. Not a father figure."
"Perhaps. Or it may be that neither of you sees himself as well as he sees the other."
"I don't know." Tiredly, he said, "I just wish my own son would see me as a father."
"Kelric, he does, maybe too much. He fears to lose you. For ten years we believed you were dead. Then you appear like a miracle, offering dreams." Her smile seemed to hold more sorrow than anything else. "We had you for so brief a time. Then you vanished into this place you call a Lock. Then you disappeared again, and it turns out you are on Earth with your enemy. They say you are going to die. Execution. Then you offer humankind its first peace in how many centuries? Five? Six? Now you say you may yet die." She gave an uneven laugh. "And how many days have we been with you? Ten? You live an eventful life."
"I'm sorry." That sounded so woefully inadequate.
"Don't apologize." Her eyes were luminous. "I am grateful to know you lived. I understand better now, both why you wanted to hide us and why you wanted to ensure we were prepared if you could no longer do it."
"I should have left you alone." The words came hard. "Yes, I protected you, and my children. No one can take your heritage now." With pain, he said, "And if Qox chooses war instead of peace? He knows about my family, including a Ruby psion heir."
"He won't betray your trust."
"He faces temptation greater than you know, Ixpar."
"You think it is true he set all this up to destroy you?"
"No. But he can use it for those purposes. He may not even fully acknowledge the lure of that power. He might convince himself, if he tries hard enough, that he can do more good if we all unite under one sovereign. Him." He forced out what had to be said. "More than anything, I wish for you to stay with me. I know you cannot. Nor can Jimorla or Rohka." He thought of the hatred on Ragnar's face. "I have no evidence one of my own people tried to kill me. But I know. It may yet happen. Anyone close to me is close to that danger." With pain, he said, "Take them home, Ixpar. I can't promise you will be safe there, but it is far better than here."
"I will." Then she murmured, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." His voice caught. "They are miracles."
She touched his hand. "Your son told me that playing Quis with you was a miracle, like riding on clouds or looking at the face of the sun and rising from its fire in rebirth."
Kelric swallowed. "Thank you."
"It is true."
"He will someday be better than me."
"He's like you. But he has played Quis almost from birth. It is a part of him in a way it never became with you." Her voice caught. "What he brings back with him, after his time here, will find its way into the Quis of Coba. Filtered through him. What Coba will do with that, I don't know, but I give you my oath, Kelric, we will seek answers for you. When you visit us—if ever you can come home—we will be waiting for you."
He drew her into his arms, bending his head over hers. His tears ran down his face, from the joy of knowing his family and the sorrow of losing them.
XXXVI
Duet
Dehya came to see Kelric after he sent away his protocol officers, when he could no longer take their fiddling with his clothes and hair. He was in a chamber near the Amphitheater of Memories where the Assembly met. Dehya stood by the door, and he could see her in the mirror. He pulled at his sleeves, trying to straighten them. He had dressed simply, despite the protests of his protocol team, choosing his unadorned black uniform.
"We've had a communication from the Qox Palace," Dehya said.
Kelric turned to her, and the room suddenly seemed too quiet. "What did they say?"
"The emperor will make an announcement today. They will time it to coincide with ours."
"Did they say what he was announcing?" It was a desperate questi
on and they both knew it, but he asked anyway, in the groundless hope that he could know before he went before three civilizations and put his name, life, and empire on the line.
"They told us as much as we told them," Dehya said. She looked as if she had bitten into a sour fruit.
"Nothing, in other words."
She came over to him, small and slight in her sky-blue jumpsuit. "Whatever happens, know that I stand at your side."
"I don't want you at my side," he growled. "I want you to live."
Her voice gentled. "You hold so much within your heart, I think sometimes it may burst."
"Dehya, listen." He drew her to a table and sat across from her. "I can't go out there without warning you."
"I know you've secured this room." She sounded more as if she were warning him. "So did I. But nothing is certain."
"Even so." He had to do this. "Jaibriol Qox went to the SSRB to investigate the implosions." Kelric took a breath. "When I activated the singularity, he was sitting in the Lock."
Dehya stared at him for a full five seconds as her face paled. Then she said, "No."
"Do you remember what I told you about Soz and me?" Kelric asked. "What happened when we were children, during that storm?"
"I remember." Her voice had a deathly still quality.
"So does Jaibriol Qox, now. I showed him how to play Quis."
"Kelric—" Her hand clenched on the table.
"He needed something to give him control," Kelric said. He wanted to say more, to tell her that he believed Jaibriol's presence in the Triad had stabilized Kyle space and stopped the implosions. He didn't dare, even with mind-speech, given all the Jagernauts outside this chamber. He might have already revealed too much. But he didn't need to go on. He saw it in her eyes. She knew what Qox might do today.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Don't be. I trust your instincts."
"I don't."
A chime came from the door. As Kelric and Dehya stood up, Dehya said, "I will see you in the amphitheater." Gently she said, "Be well, Kelric."
"You also."
Dehya left by a discreet exit that would put her in a hall with private access to the amphitheater. When he was alone, Kelric went to the main door. But he couldn't open it. Not yet. He stood with his palm against the portal, his head bowed as he centered himself. A drum felt as if it beat within him, steady, timeless. Perhaps it was his heart. Maybe it was a future his people had always faced and might now live. Or die for.
He touched a panel and the door shimmered. Eight Jagernauts waited outside. He saw it in their faces, what everyone wondered. Would Jaibriol give them a treaty today or destroy the military leader of his enemies?
Kelric set off down the hall, flanked by guards. His leg throbbed and his limp slowed him, but he kept going, headed for the Amphitheater of Memories.
Corbal came in after when Jaibriol was alone, after the emperor had sent away his protocol officers. They were waiting in a chamber near the Amphitheater of Providence, where the Aristos had assembled. Corbal stood by the door, and Jaibriol could see him in the mirror. Jaibriol pulled restlessly at his sleeves, trying to straighten them. He shimmered from his hair to his black diamond clothes to his polished shoes. Carnelians glittered in his cuffs and belt.
"We've had a communication from the Skolians," Corbal said.
Jaibriol turned, and the room suddenly seemed too quiet. "What did they say?"
"They have set up a Kyle node for us, since we can't create one ourselves." His eyes glinted. "Yet."
Jaibriol nodded formally. "Of course."
"With the connection, we will see it live when Imperator Skolia makes his announcement. And send yours live to them."
"Very well." Jaibriol went over to him. But he couldn't open the door. He wasn't ready. Not yet. A drum felt as if it beat within him, steady, timeless. Perhaps it was the beat of his heart. Or maybe his empire.
He touched a panel and the door shimmered. Barthol Iquar and Erix Muze waited outside, both in black dress uniforms with red piping on their sleeves. Four Razers waited with them.
And Tarquine.
Her red gaze was so intense, it looked as if it could burn through him. He thought he caught triumph from her, but she masked her emotions too well for him to be sure.
The minds of his joint commanders pressed on him, but he could endure it better today. When he had rolled out the Quis dice this morning, he had only intended to distract himself. But as soon as he drew on the memories Kelric had given him, his fascination with the game had swamped everything else.
The Imperator had been right.
Quis settled Jaibriol. With Kelric's memories to learn from, he could center the raging turmoil of his mind. It didn't take away the pain or give him control yet of that surging power, but it was a start. He had years to learn Quis. He didn't know yet what he would do with it, but it offered a lifeline in the ocean of his misery. It would help him rule Eube—
And beyond.
Jaibriol strode out of the room. Tarquine fell in at his right and Corbal to his left, with Barthol and Erix on either side of them. So they headed down the long corridor, the warlords of a conquering empire.
Kelric stood in the console cup at the end of a robot arm. Guards had accompanied him to the amphitheater and more waited on the dais, but he rode alone, and they hadn't insisted otherwise. He had seen it in their eyes, just as with Dehya. It wasn't condemnation; it was, incredibly, respect. He had tried to offer humanity the impossible. Peace. They knew he hadn't betrayed them. If this moment crashed, ISC would have to go through with the execution; to let him live would be to allow treason of unprecedented proportions with nothing to answer for it. But he would die knowing they understood why he had gone to Earth.
The Amphitheater of Memories hummed with the people of a thousand cultures. Giant screens showed him riding to the dais. He hadn't looked at the numbers, but he could tell from the crowds, even in aisles and between consoles, that more people had come today than to any other session he had ever attended. He felt the life, the vibrancy, the sheer energy of that gathering.
Don't let it end, he thought to Jaibriol, though he knew his nephew couldn't pick up that thought across the stars.
The robot arm docked at the dais, and Kelric stepped out, aware of the guards watching him. No one moved. Protocol was at her console, and Barcala Tikal stood by her chair. Dehya was standing by the console. She nodded to Kelric, and he nodded in return, though he felt as stiff as ice. He went to the podium, and screens throughout the hall showed him taller than life.
Kelric touched the speaker's panel. His voice went out to the amphitheater, and from there to Skolia, to his family, to Ixpar and his children, to the Allied Worlds, to Earth, to Jeremiah Coltman and Seth Rockworth and the people of a small Appalachian town. And to the Eubians. Three empires listened.
"Four days ago," Kelric began, "I met on Earth with Jaibriol Qox, the Emperor of the Eubian Concord."
The Razers swung open the great double doors, and Jaibriol walked with his retinue onto a balcony that overlooked the Amphitheater of Providence. Spread out before him, the hall hummed with Aristos, aides, officers, and guards, thousands in tier after tier. Giant screens showed images of Jaibriol, his hands braced on the waist-high balcony wall, Tarquine at his side, Corbal, Erix, and Barthol flanking them, Razers towering behind. He hadn't looked at the numbers, but it was obvious more people had come today than any other session he had ever attended.
He touched the speaker's panel on the wall and his words went out to three empires.
"My people of Eube." His voice resonated. "I come before you today to speak of triumph!"
"The treaty has also been signed," Kelric said, "by the Ruby Pharaoh and First Councilor, and ratified by the Assembly. All that remains is for the last three signers—the Highton Heir and joint commanders of ESComm—to add their names."
All across the amphitheater, people waited. Kelric looked at the private screen on the podium where a me
ssage would come only for him. It remained blank, and his heart thundered.
Jaibriol paused in the many honorifics expected from an emperor lauding his empire. He had said enough. He was tired of the overblown phrases. He glanced at Tarquine, and the intensity in her eyes terrified and exhilarated him.