Chapter 13
Twelve
Ryan
Ryan contemplated the interplay of light and shadow among the interwoven trunks of the tree. This was a setback. Though perhaps not an entirely unavoidable one.
All creatures had a tendency to bite when cornered. Gus, for all her abhorrence for conflict, was no different.
He winced as the roots holding him in place tightened. Nearly a hundred years on and she still managed to surprise him.
He hadn’t actually believed it when his informants brought news of her betrayal. It was obvious from the start that someone—likely one of their siblings—intended to take advantage of Gus’s position on the periphery to cast blame.
They failed to take into account that for her to betray something, she’d actually have to take an interest in it.
And Gus had none. Her overall apathy to anything and everything that didn’t grow roots had made it increasingly challenging over the decades to get her to engage on even the most superficial level.
There were days he worried they’d lose her.
That she’d disappear into some forest never to be seen again.
It had happened before with others in the early days. With those who were unable to escape their nightmares.
Someone like that could care less about the power struggles affecting the forty-three.
Still, Ryan would have been remiss not to do his due diligence. Gus had already suffered from the stigma of favoritism once. Also, on the outside chance that he’d read her wrong, this would quell any doubts.
Her reaction to his testing took him by surprise though.
“Well done, Gus,” Ryan whispered.
He didn’t think he’d come that close to death since the camps.
It was a little bemusing, actually. How the supposed weakest among them had managed to topple the supposed strongest.
Ryan found himself intrigued.
No.
Enthralled.
He hadn’t expected that level of desperation. Or ingenuity. Pleading, maybe. Though he couldn’t ever remember her begging. Even when Esara was at his worst, Gus had always met their master’s violence with calm aplomb.
The rest of them quailed. They pleaded. They fought.
Gus submitted.
Ryan thought he might have hated her for that once. He’d wanted her to fight. To rage. Like he did. Like Kira had. Even though deep down he knew any appearance of resistance on her end would have resulted in a most painful death.
Instead, she persevered.
Kira had always been the inferno, consuming everything in her path.
Pallas was a mountain, enduring and strong.
He could take whatever was thrown at him and come out the other side, dented and bruised but in one piece.
Gus was a river, flowing over and around all obstacles, wearing them away so gradually that no one ever noticed.
She was life. Even as Esara tried to remake her in the image of death.
Perhaps that was why so many of the forty-three had survived.
It took Ryan a long time to realize what Gus was doing with their masters’ favoritism. The risks she took. The seemingly random acts of luck sent their way.
All Gus.
Most of the others didn’t know. But Ryan did. Maybe that was why he’d always felt this need to test her. To break her open and see what made her tick. Even as he went out of his way to protect her.
I knew there was more to her.
Ryan was already considering how to factor this new information into his plans when a loud whistle interrupted his thoughts.
“Well, well, isn’t this an unexpected sight,” Pallas drawled, sauntering across the uneven surface of the hollow.
Careful not to disturb the roots covering him, since he had no wish to experience death via constriction, Ryan shifted his gaze to watch his brother’s approach. “You’re supposed to be monitoring the major Houses.”
Ryan wanted to be surprised that Pallas had disregarded his orders, but he wasn’t. Although a sensitive soul, Pallas was also contrary and rebellious. Even those who had his loyalty had to be careful lest he tear their throats out unexpectedly.
His unpredictability should have made him an undesirable chess piece. Instead, Ryan found that instability part of his charm. He particularly enjoyed the caution Pallas managed to inspire in their siblings.
Clad in armor and weaponry that gave him the appearance of a brute, Pallas had the build of a warrior and the mind of a tactician.
Looking highly amused, Pallas ran a gaze over Ryan. “Don’t you worry. Everything is under control. Ole Faithful is keeping an eye on the situation. He’ll notify me if there’s an issue, and I’ll be right there to pull his ass out of the fire.”
This was why Ryan had never considered discarding Pallas. For all his seeming carelessness, Pallas was meticulous in his own way.
Pallas squatted next to Ryan to get a better look at the roots. “What did you do to make Gussy so mad?”
“Don’t,” Ryan objected as the other Tuann extended a finger.
Heeding his warning, Pallas withdrew the finger he’d been about to poke the roots with and looked askance at Ryan.
“There was a misunderstanding,” Ryan said, answering Pallas’s earlier question.
Pallas’s eyebrow ticked upward. “That’s some misunderstanding. Gussy doesn’t typically like confrontation. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I wouldn’t have thought her capable of something like this.”
“She is full of surprises,” Ryan acknowledged.
Pallas looked curious as he gave Ryan a sidelong look. “How did she get the drop on you anyway? You’re not usually so careless.”
“An oversight on my part. It won’t happen again.”
Now that Ryan knew the extent of Gus’s abilities, he’d take steps to ensure he didn’t fall prey to them.
“What are you doing?” Ryan asked as Pallas withdrew a dagger.
His brother gestured. “Getting you out of there.”
“I’d advise against harming any part of this tree.”
Ryan didn’t think either of them would like what would happen if Gus’s friend suffered so much as a nick due to their actions.
“What would you suggest then?” Pallas asked.
“Your ki. Inject it—gently—into the roots around me.”
It was just a theory, but based on what Ryan knew of Gus, he was fairly confident it would work.
Shaking his head and muttering under his breath, Pallas extended one hand and concentrated. The nest of roots trembled at the first brush of his ki. A second later, they retreated, sliding off Ryan with a speed that was astonishing.
“You were right,” Pallas drawled, looking impressed.
Ryan sat up, hiding his wince as muscles that had been forced to remain immobile for hours protested. “Give me your report.”
Pallas straightened to look around the hollow with curiosity, his gaze landing on the tangled ball of roots that hid Gus’s safe room before moving on. “Alexander is guiding representatives from House Kashori and Asanth to Titan as we speak. They should be here within the day.”
“Good.”
That was very good.
It had been a gamble whether the Tuann emperor would support their plans.
The man was notoriously hard to predict and about as enigmatic as they came.
Ryan’s knowledge of him was limited to what his informants and the rest of the forty-three could collect, and those infrequent conversations he’d overheard as a child.
His parents had been full of vitriol toward the emperor and his representatives. The major Houses hadn’t fared much better either.
Then again, his parents had always preferred laying the blame of why they were never able to advance up the social ladder at other’s feet rather than examining how their own actions might be holding them back.
Seeing the seiki cuffs around Ryan’s wrists, Pallas chuckled, reaching out to help remove them. “I can’t believe she managed to get a pair of inquisitor cuffs on you. Brave girl. Where do you think she got them?”
Ryan held still as Pallas fiddled with the cuff’s locks. “Pityrodia Augustensis has always been unexpectedly resourceful.”
That was why she’d survived despite having few outward skills for the Tsavitee’s masters to covet.
“So.” Pallas’s forehead furrowed as he concentrated on picking the lock. “Did you confirm what you needed to confirm?”
“I did.”
“And?” Pallas aimed a penetrating stare at him. “Is she the traitor we’re looking for?”
There was a snick as the cuffs were unlocked.
Ryan twisted his wrists free. “What do you think?”
“I’m not the one who doubted her. You were. I’ve always known Gussy isn’t capable of what these idiots are doing. I just want to make sure you know that too.”
“So certain,” Ryan murmured, half under his breath.
“What can I say? I’m an awesome judge of character.”
It was more than that. For all that he acted the brute, Pallas was a perceptive bastard. His ability to read a person was something Ryan valued and had used to his advantage on several occasions.
“What’s the final count?” Ryan asked.
Pallas sobered, the teasing disappearing from his features. “Of those who responded, thirty-one will stand with us.”
“Less than we hoped.”
“We knew it would be a tough sell. You’re asking people who’ve only ever lived their lives in shadow to step into the light. That’s not going to be easy.”
“It is necessary, however.”
The forty-three had lost the advantage of anonymity. As Thea’s betrayal proved, the Osiri were now aware of them. They could no longer rely on the protections they once had. They needed to evolve.
The fools that couldn’t see that had either already fallen into the Osiri’s hands or would shortly.
Ryan pushed their fates out of his head. He’d done what he could. Those who couldn’t adapt would die—or wish they had. He wasn’t kind enough to force them to heel.
Choice.
That was what it came down to.
Theirs. And his.
“How many of those who abstained sided with Thea’s faction?” Ryan asked.
“It’s difficult to say. A few of our siblings are disturbed over the nature of Thea’s demise,” Pallas said, choosing his response carefully.
In other words, they objected to the role Pallas played in her death.
“You didn’t have a choice,” Ryan said, knowing his brother was still upset over what he’d been forced to do. Putting Thea down was bound to mark him. Deserved though that death had been.
“I know.”
“She betrayed us,” Ryan told him.
Worse than that. She’d helped the Osiri restart their madness.
The more Ryan uncovered of her crimes, the more he wished she’d survived so he could kill her himself.
He would have made it painful. Agonizing. Drawn it out into weeks and months until her mind broke and there was nothing of Thea left.
Pallas’s lips twisted into a wry expression of acknowledgment. “I know.”
“Good.”
Ryan had need of his right hand. His brother didn’t have time to dwell on what had passed.
“Have you given any thought to what we’re going to call the new us?” Pallas asked as Ryan rose.
“The twenty-nine sounds nice.”
Pallas gave him a curious look. “Twenty-nine? Not thirty-one?”
“You know what they say. Always keep them on their toes.”
There was no need to advertise their exact numbers to the rest of the universe.
“And our House?” Pallas asked.
“I think House Asunder has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”
Asunder meant to rip apart. That was exactly what they would do to their enemies.
Pallas’s expression showed a slow appreciation. “Asunder it is.”
Ryan was glad he liked it. Many things would happen from here on out. It was important they have a name to operate under. One that encapsulated their future and who they would be as a people. No longer lost or abandoned children, but individuals with a home and shared goal.
“What is it about this place?” Pallas suddenly asked, looking around as he searched for the right words. “Why does it feel so—familiar?”
Home.
That’s the word Pallas was looking for.
It felt like home.
In an instant, Ryan rearranged plans that had been in the works for decades, discarding them in favor of something better.
Something blessed.
“Call your yer’se,” Ryan instructed.
Pallas sent him a startled glance.
“There’s been a change of plans,” Ryan said, taking in the hollow of the tree with a crooked little smile.
A most wondrous change of plans indeed.
“Are you sure? The kid might not accept it. I don’t think one has ever bonded with a space station before,” Pallas pointed out.
“It’ll accept it.”
Ryan placed a hand against the tree trunk, closing his eyes to concentrate on the ki flowing through the wood. Strong and steady. Just like the woman from whence it came.
After all, what lenact wouldn’t want access to a mycorr?