Grim
“Perhaps my line has not weakened after all,” he said, “if you have the gall to stand up to me.”
Above, the galaxies swirled as darkness grew between them.
“How so?”
Cronan shook his head. “I tried, but it was pointless. She can’t be manipulated or broken.”
“Let me try,” Grim said.
“You think you can succeed where I couldn’t?”
Grim shrugged a shoulder. “She cares about me. I can use that against her. It shouldn’t be much effort.”
What Grim needed was time. Time to learn more about what Cronan’s plans were . . . and what Grim was going to do about them.
“You’re underestimating her,” Cronan said. “Her flair is absorption. Within her lives the power of everyone she has ever killed.”
Grim frowned. She was more powerful than he had thought. “That makes her even more useful.”
“Yes. She would be the ultimate weapon, if controlled.” His ancestor’s head tilted. “She could be useful in other ways too . . .”
“How so?” Grim asked.
Cronan turned to him, his eyes gleaming. “A child between the two of you would be the greatest heir to have ever lived.”
A child? Grim had never wanted children because of the very tradition Cronan had started, where only the strongest heir survived. And . . . a child with her? Never. But he didn’t tell Cronan that. He would indulge him in his delusions. He said nothing, letting his ancestor prattle on.
“I myself was the child of two great powers . . .” he said, his eyes going flat, as if he was lost in some distant corner of his mind. He blinked, and the full weight of his stare returned. “Very well. She lives . . . for now. Let’s see if she can be swayed.”
Grim sighed as Cronan passed him. He didn’t know why he felt so relieved, like a knot within him had loosened. “Come.” Cronan led Grim to the center of the room. He motioned at the ceiling, which Cronan had pieced back together in the time that he was gone.
“This is what I have collected throughout my lifetime. Some of the most powerful planets in the universe. United. Under me. Under us,” he said, smirking at Grim.
“These are the worlds I let live . . . for they have their uses. They are led by those who chose to bow, instead of fight. Together, they form my Astral Council.”
Grim stared blankly at the planets. He didn’t really care. He had no desire to be part of any more fucking councils. The meetings he attended with his own court were tiresome enough.
But he feigned interest as his ancestor kept speaking. “I’ve conquered much of this galaxy already. But there are more. And to get the rest . . . I need something.”
“The diamond?” Grim asked.
“Yes,” Cronan admitted. The galaxy above was overcome by a dark void, matching the cloud of irritation that surrounded his ancestor.
“And more. Your world sits between two galaxies. My Astral Council and I can only access it by going through your planet. The diamond cast me out. I need it to let me back in, so we can feed on that next frontier.” Above, the stars glimmered.
“But that is not my only ambition. There is a place where all worlds meet. A place that would allow me to conquer the entire universe, every galaxy. But to access it . . . I need a key.”
“A key?”
Cronan nodded. “A choice I made once long ago kept me from it. I need to either go back and change things . . . or find another key throughout the universe. And then, only the diamond can make me powerful enough to link all worlds together. Into one world. One universe. And I will rule them all.”
Go back in time. Just a few days prior, he had helped Oro go back in time. With an artifact he brought with him. He didn’t remember what he was supposed to do with it, though.
All he knew now was that Cronan was clearly wary of trusting anyone. If Grim was going to stay a while, his ancestor would eventually find out anything he had in his possession without disclosing it.
Better to earn Cronan’s trust now.
“Then it sounds like you need this,” Grim said. He reached into his pocket—and pulled out a pile of threads.
Cronan’s eyes widened in unfiltered surprise. “The Threads of Time,” he whispered in awe. The entire room trembled with the energy that came off him in waves. “Where did you find it?” he demanded.
“Underwater.”
Cronan grabbed it from his hand like a greedy child, and golden light spilled between his fingers. The threads uncurled, as if reunited with an old friend. Instantly, they shot into his skin. Only one remained visible, pressed against his palm.
He turned to Grim with pure satisfaction splashed across his face. “Now all I need is the Pool of Possibilities.”
Grim just blinked at him.
“An ancient source of knowledge,” he explained.
“It knows all. It has seen all. Those who are allowed to bathe within it can see every possible outcome to any choice in the past. With it, I can run through millions of scenarios to see which one would have left me with the key.” Cronan sighed deeply.
The stars above seemed to breathe with him.
“The pool shows us the way. The Threads of Time will help us go back and change anything needed. And the Infinite diamond . . . it will give us the amplification of power to shape the universe to our will.”
Grim didn’t know how to feel. The world had been cruel to him, that was certain. Did it matter to him if it ended, beyond the survival of his own people? He wasn’t sure. As he watched Cronan revel in his power, he didn’t know if he cared enough to stop him.
His entire life, he had been weighed down by duty and the fierce need for his realm to survive. Beyond care for his people . . . there was a void within him. He had the strangest feeling that something had been there once, something else worth fighting for.
Cronan wanted his line to continue on, for his legacy to be unstoppable. It was another way of making himself eternal. Yet Cronan was alone. Unfeeling. He had nothing truly to live for, simply the desire to gain as much power as possible. It seemed like a sad existence.
His head snapped toward Grim. “I think it’s time for a little reunion. Bring in the Wildling.”