Chapter 4
Four
Graydon
Obeying the order to halt, Graydon glanced beyond the oshota standing guard to the vast chamber that served as the emperor’s audience hall.
Great pillars supported the roof high overhead, and the walls were carved in ancient motifs that dated back thousands of years.
An impression of wealth and power reverberated throughout.
“You’re back early,” Erna, one of the emperor’s personal oshota, observed neutrally.
Her companion approached Graydon as she hung back in preparation to strike if necessary.
Graydon offered no resistance as Faric, another of the emperor’s personal oshota, scanned him with the device he was holding.
The painful prickle that swept over him made the back of his molars tingle.
Graydon showed no discomfort as the scan finished, the prickle disappearing a second later.
Faric nodded at Erna. “Identity confirmed. It’s the emperor’s Face.”
Erna’s stance eased, her expression warming as she shot him an apologetic glance. “Sorry about that. With what happened, tensions are high.”
“Understandable,” Graydon murmured.
His oshota had given him the report a few hours ago. News of Roake’s unwarranted attack was already making its way through the empire. By morning, there would be new schisms to navigate and old alliances redrawn in favor of new ones.
“We weren’t expecting you for another week or more,” Erna said.
“I took a shortcut.”
Erna’s lips quirked as she peered beyond Graydon to the two waiting a short distance away. “The emperor ordered no disturbances.”
As the emperor’s Face, that wouldn’t apply to Graydon. He was Torvald’s eyes, ears, and voice during those times the emperor was otherwise occupied. In such instances, the emperor’s authority became Graydon’s.
He was one of several. Each Face responsible for their own duties.
Eurus—his judge and jury.
Yukina—his diplomat.
Lorcan—his spy.
And Graydon—his enforcer, fixer—and sometimes, executioner.
There was one other whose role was harder to define and who rarely made an appearance in public.
Together, they upheld the emperor’s authority in an empire that was too massive to govern alone. Their loyalty unquestioned and absolute.
Unless the emperor ordered it, there was no obstructing Graydon’s attendance.
Graydon glanced over his shoulder. “Wait here. I’ll call if I need you.”
Alexander’s eyebrow ticked up but he otherwise didn’t comment.
Next to him, Pallas smirked. “Just don’t forget our deal.”
“How can I when you keep reminding me?” Graydon drawled.
In the months since working alongside some of the forty-three to explore the abandoned Tsavitee planet, Graydon had learned several things about Kira’s adoptive siblings. The main one being how little they liked being told what to do.
They constantly tested the authority of those around them in a never ending game. Controlling them was next to impossible.
Despite that, they had managed to come to a tentative understanding with Grayden, rooted in a common goal.
Survival.
And if they were lucky—the destruction of their enemies.
Faric allowed Graydon through the sound proof barrier protecting the audience chamber. As soon as Graydon passed through the motes of gold, he could hear the loud conversation taking place on the other side.
“Don’t bullshit me!”
Something crashed into the pillar next to Graydon, sending shards of shrapnel in several directions.
“My son, Harlow! They threatened my son!”
Roake’s Overlord knelt on one knee, his head bowed in a rare show of subservience.
Seeing it, Torvald closed his eyes, reining in the soul’s breath that had started to leak out of his body to take on a physical form that the Tuann referred to as manifestation.
For someone like Torvald, whose control over their ki was normally impeccable, the mistake was an indication of the depths of his rage. And how tenuous his grip currently was.
Several moments passed before Torvald regained composure. When he spoke, it was like the loss of control never happened.
“Technology like the one used to mimic Caius requires its subject’s features to be mapped out down to the tiniest, most infinitesimal detail.
Every pore. Every blemish. Every strand of hair.
” Torvald regarded Roake’s Overlord with a gaze that couldn’t quite hide the extent of his frustration.
“It requires time and patience. Both difficult to obtain without the subject’s cooperation.
The fact that this invader was able to infiltrate all the way to Roake’s heart means they were familiar enough with Caius and his habits to fool even those familiar with him. ”
Kneeling, Harlow was a virtual statue as Torvald berated him. His head bowed, he stared at the ground, giving no sign of life.
Neither acknowledged Graydon’s arrival as Torvald’s voice rose to a near shout.
“And now you want to tell me that the person in question is unaccounted for?” Torvald made a derisive sound. “You can see how the Houses might take this news.”
“I can.”
“Then you must know the difficult position your failure has put me in.”
“I do.”
The emperor rubbed his forehead tiredly. “Of all the times for something like this to happen. This will divide us further.”
Harlow lifted his head as the worst of Torvald’s anger subsided. “I suspect that’s the point.”
“I can’t be seen as aligning myself with you or Roake,” Torvald admitted grudgingly. “If I use my authority to protect you, it will undermine my authority when I’m most vulnerable.”
“I understand.”
There was a hint of apology in Torvald’s expression. “You’ll have to find a way to soothe their ire on your own, old friend. I can’t help you.”
“This is Roake’s problem. It is fitting that we be the ones to solve it.”
From the grim note in Harlow’s tone, Graydon suspected the Overlord already had an idea of how to do that.
“This will cost you greatly,” Torvald warned.
“I’m aware.”
“A scapegoat might pacify them.”
Harlow’s expression darkened. “Roake will not sacrifice its own.”
“Even if that person is guilty?”
“Caius did not do this,” Harlow insisted.
There was a bone deep conviction on his face that Graydon knew no amount of arguing would budge.
Torvald knew it too, which was why he sighed and shook his head. “I hope you’re right. Asanth and Kashori are out for blood. They will convict him—and thus Roake—in absentia. Your only move is to have him speak in his own defense.”
With him missing, that wouldn’t be as easy as it sounded.
The Houses weren’t likely to allow Roake to join in the manhunt either. Not officially. Any search they conducted would have to be done covertly.
“My storm, what news do you have for us?”
Obeying Torvald’s summons, Graydon advanced from his position on the periphery of the room. He stopped next to Harlow’s kneeling figure.
“Sire,” Graydon said respectfully.
Torvald made a disgusted face. “Don’t bother standing on ceremony. You never have before.”
Graydon smirked, relaxing as he sent a sidelong look at the man kneeling next to him. “Overlord.”
For a man who’d just been put in his place by the emperor, there was no sign of diffidence in Harlow’s expression as he gave Graydon a wry smile. “Little storm. You made good time.”
“I had help.”
Pallas’s gift was a product of experiments and not one original to the Tuann. It allowed him, and whoever he chose, to travel great distances with a single step.
Graydon had to admit that it came in handy during situations like this. Otherwise, by the time he arrived, it might have been too late.
There was no sign of discomfort in Harlow’s expression as he rose to standing.
“Last I heard, the forty-three and their representatives were being less than cooperative,” Harlow said with mild interest.
“You’re not wrong. Pallas’s offer took me by surprise as well,” Graydon admitted.
That surprise had faded when news of Roake and Kira’s situation reached him.
If there was one area where the forty-three were predictable, it was their preoccupation with the two youngest of their number.
Kira and Jin.
“They hope to gain something from the situation,” Harlow guessed.
“More than that, they have a proposition for us. If we want it,” Graydon added.
Torvald held up a hand. “Before we get to that, my son? How is Devon?”
“Well, sire. He and the other boy, Joule, have begun their hunt for the lu-ong scale that will serve as their synth armor’s seed.”
It was unlikely their endeavor would prove fruitful—most required several attempts before achieving success—but it would be a valuable training experience.
Their exact location was known only to a handful of Graydon’s most trusted. They would be safe while events played out on the wider galactic stage.
“Then we can finish our discussion regarding the attacks. Does Roake have any news?” Torvald asked.
Harlow took the floor. “I had my people study the orbs Kira and Raider recovered from the Nexus before it blew.”
Torvald’s features sharpened with interest. “Not everything was destroyed?”
Harlow nodded. “Without the waters of our Nexus, they seem to have gone into hibernation.”
“What are they?”
“Silas consulted the records but found no mention of them. If they’re the product of the Osiri, it’s something they created after our departure. Kira and Raider weren’t familiar with them either.”
Harlow projected the orb for Torvald and Graydon to study.
“From what we’ve managed to uncover, they feed off the Mea’Ave’s energy to replicate. Once they reached a certain number, they disrupted control of our defensive and offensive networks and uploaded their own command protocols.”
Torvald stroked his lip as he slouched against his throne. “Is that the reason for Roake’s self-destruct?”
“I determined that sacrificing our Nexus was the only way we were going to stop the attack,” Harlow answered.