he’ll defend you forever.
Most call me sir or Reaper. And I want to correct them and tell them to call me Darrow, but I know the value of respect, of distance between men and leader. Because even though I’m laughing with them, even though they’re helping heal what’s been twisted inside me, they are not my friends. They are not my family. Not yet. Not until we have that luxury. For now, they are my soldiers. And they need me as much as I need them. I’m their Reaper. It took Ragnar to remind me. He favors me with an ungainly grin, so pleased to see me smiling and laughing with the soldiers. I’ve never been a man of joy or a man of war, or an island in a storm. Never an absolute like Lorn. That was what I pretended to be. I am and always have been a man who is made complete by those around him. I feel strength
growing in myself. A strength I haven’t felt in so long. It’s not only that I’m loved. It’s that they believe in me. Not the mask like my soldiers at the Institute. Not the false idol I built in the service of Augustus, but the man beneath. Lykos may be gone. Eo may be silent. Mustang a world away. And the
Sons on the brink of extinction. But I feel my soul trickling back into me as I realize I am finally home.
—
With Ragnar at my side I return to the command room where Sevro and Dancer are hunched over a
blueprint. Theodora’s in the corner exchanging correspondences. They turn as I enter, surprised to
see the smile on my face and to see that I’m now standing. Not on my own, but with Ragnar ’s help. I left the chair in the hospital and had him guide me back to the command room I fled only an hour prior. I feel a new man. And I may not be what I was before the darkness, but perhaps I’m better for it.
I have humility I didn’t have before.
“I’m sorry for how I acted,” I say to my friends. “This has been…overwhelming. I know you’ve done the best you can. Better than anyone could, given the circumstances. You’ve all kept hope alive.
And you saved me. And you saved my family.” I pause, making sure they know how much that means
to me. “I know you didn’t expect me to come back like this. I know you thought I’d come back with
wrath and fire. But I’m not what I was. I’m just not,” I say as Sevro tries to correct me. “I trust you. I trust your plans. I want to help in whatever way I can. But I can’t help you like this.” I hold up my thin arms. “So I need your help with three things.”
“Always so dramatic,” Sevro says. “What are your demands, Princess?”
“First I want to send an emissary to Mustang. I know you think she betrayed me, but I want her to
know I’m alive. Maybe there’s some chance it’ll make a difference. That’s she’ll help us.”
Sevro snorts. “We already gave her the opportunity once. She almost killed you and Rags.”
“But she did not,” Ragnar says. “It is worth the risk, if she will help us. I will go as emissary so she does not doubt our intentions.”
“Like hell,” Sevro says. “You’re one of most wanted men in the System. Gold have shut down all
unauthorized air traffic. And you won’t last two minutes in a space port, even with a mask.”
“We’ll send one of my spies,” Theodora says. “I have one in mind. She’s good, and a hundred kilograms less conspicuous that you, Prince of the Spires. The girl’s in a port city already.”
“Evey?” Dancer asks.
“Just.” Theodora looks my direction. “Evey’s done her best to make amends for the sins of the past.
Even ones that weren’t hers. She’s been very helpful. Dancer, I’ll make the arrangements for travel and cover, if that’s all right with you.”
“It’s all right,” Sevro says quickly, though Theodora waits for Dancer to nod his agreement.
“Thank you,” I say. “I also need you to bring Mickey back to Tinos.”
“Why?” Dancer asks.
“I need him to make me into a weapon again.”
Sevro cackles. “Now we’re talking. Get some man-killing meat on your bones. No more of this anorexic scarecrow shit.”
Dancer shakes his head. “Mickey’s half a thousand clicks away in Varos, working on his little project. He’s needed there. You need calories. Not a Carver. In the state you’re in, it could be dangerous.”
“Reap can handle it. We can get Mickey and his equipment here by Thursday,” Sevro says. “Virany
has been consulting with him anyway about your condition. He’ll be tickled Pink to see you.”
Dancer watches Sevro with strained patience. “And the last request?”
I grimace. “I have a feeling you’re not gonna like this one.”