“He had no reason to accept. He’s sure of victory.”
She shakes her head. “No, he refused because he and I had already agreed to end the great Edric Leontes. The poison had already been administered into his food and drink.”
“Alberich should have been testing the food,” I say.
“Alberich’s always resented Father for defeating him in the Combat—an unknown peasant ruining his chances at victory? He serves loyally, but not blindly. Phaestion sealed the pact with a kiss laced with the poison’s catalyst during the final couplings of the evening.”
My face twists, repulsed at the thought of Edric and Phaestion together.
“Come now, Edmon, the man’s quite beautiful. I’m sure you’ve noticed.” She smiles lasciviously. “Father should be dead. I should be Matriarch. A new balance should be struck.”
“But Edric didn’t die so easily.”
“And Phaestion reneged. And Edgaard lost. And you came back.” Her voice is frosty.
“This is sickness,” I say.
“You’re in the game now! You’ve been in it from the day you were born. You rebelled against being a companion, against Father’s wishes, against the marriage to Miranda. By the ancestors, what did it get you? Your mother lobotomized, your island girlfriend killed—”
“Careful of whom you speak!”
“Power rests in your hands. Stop sitting on the sidelines or get the hell out of the game.” She steps toward me. “After tonight, the whole planet will be anticipating your showdown with Phaestion Julii, the greatest aristeia in our history.”
“Are we done here?” I ask.
“That’s not what you want, is it?” she asks again. “Father doesn’t understand. No one does but me. Be my ally, and I’ll help you leave this place forever.” She turns and saunters down the hall back to whatever eel pit she swam out of.
When she’s gone, I pull the aquagraphic cube from my pocket and confirm it captured the audio of the conversation we just had.
“Bed,” I call out, stepping inside my room. The bed does not come. It’s already extended from the wall with someone on it.
“My lord?” The voluminous sheets sweep around the woman as she sits up like a goddess sprung from sea foam.
“Who are you?” The confrontation with Lavinia has dulled my senses. I should have heard the woman’s heartbeat before I even stepped in the room.
“Lord Edric sent me.” She stands. The sheets fall away, revealing a firm, nubile body. Her hair, the color of spun gold, falls to her shoulders, just above the curve of her ample breasts. “Do I not please you?” she asks coyly.
“You’re pleasing, but . . .” Elder Stars, I’ve never been good at this.
“What?” she teases. Her hips sway as she steps toward me. She is curved, but slender and athletic. The perfect Nightsider. She reaches out with a manicured fingernail and traces the contours of my chest. I suddenly feel very exposed. She bites her lower lip. She’s trained for this.
“What’s your name?” I ask. “No,” I say just as quickly. “I don’t want to know.”
She smiles and presses her mouth to mine. Her breasts are warm against my chest. I feel her heart beat. My arms wrap around her. This isn’t right, but maybe this is what I need. After years in the cold among the vile rapists of the Wendigo without love, without . . .
Nadia. Her name whispers in my memory. Nadia. My unborn child. My mother. That was love.
Gorham. The Maestro. Faria . . .
“No!” I shove the woman away. She crashes into the table and chairs. I’m shocked at my outburst and ashamed. I take a step toward her to help her stand.
“No, please!” She throws up her hands, terrified.
I see my reflection in her eyes—my father.
“Leave, please!” I say. “Quickly!” She grabs her clothes from the floor and flees.
I collapse onto the bed, burying my face in my hands. Lavinia’s right. Play the game or get out of the arena. I pull the aquagraphic cube from my pocket once more. My thumb touches the activator indentation. Opera fills the chamber. My song.
I was once a boy of Bone. I loved music and dancing. I had a mother and someone I loved. I had a tribe and a people.
I see a way out. It may just work, but I’ve been wrong before. I’ve been very wrong before.
The doors of the Wusong throne room open. My father reclines on the throne like the king of death. Two sleepy whores, drunk on the evening’s wine, dote on him. A stringed quartet plunks out spare notes of an electronic tune. The languid vestiges of the celebration.
“You’ve missed the party, my son,” the dying king croaks.
“All of you, out!” I shout. “I’ll speak with Lord Leontes alone!”
I grab one half-naked courtesan by her arm and shove her toward the double doors. She screams. Everyone scatters. Alberich unsheathes a ceremonial dirk.
“Really?” I sneer. He may remember the spastic little boy he tried to teach on the sands long ago, but we both know that Edmon is gone.
“It’s fine, Alberich. My son, the victor, wishes to converse.” Edric sounds like a gurgling old toad.
“I watched out for you, boy,” Alberich warns. “Even when your father would’ve had you executed. Don’t forget that.”
“I haven’t,” I respond coldly. “Nor have I forgotten who made me watch as my mother was beaten. Or held me down as Nadia’s neck was snapped and her body dropped into the Southern Sea. I thank you for your kindness.”
Alberich files past me. The doors slam behind him.
“If you intend to kill me, I wouldn’t bother. You’re fast, but the automated snipers throughout the chamber are faster still. One can’t be too careful these days. And you’ve proven you aren’t ready for the patricide. You think I don’t see you looking for escape? I can’t have that, Edmon.”
“I haven’t come to kill you, Father. I’ve come to save you.”
He sits up in his chair, and his bones creak with the effort.
“I have an offer. Take it and live. Refuse and House Leontes is ruined.” He doesn’t like being ordered? Too bad. “You wish for me to enter the Combat, kill my old friend, take my place as an Elector, and help fulfill your plans for Tao. This won’t happen. Not ever. I’m not your son. I renounce you.” His eyes grow hard, and his jaw sets like stone. “Don’t be angry just yet. You are going to grant me my wish.” I smile.
The anger boils inside him. He’s about to speak.
I cut him off. “You believe my taking your place is the only way to save our planet. You believe this because you’re dying and you must see your plans in place before you pass.”
Coughs rack his body.
I speak over the hacking. “It’s a false hope. Think, Edric! You may live for years yet, but how many? One? Five? Ten at the most? You trust me to carry forth your plans after you’re gone? The son you hate? Lavinia is self-interested and conniving. She doesn’t share any vision beyond her own lust for power. Edgaard was the son you dreamed of, but Edgaard is dead. Phoebe’s soft and holds little value. Alberich is a servant. And I refuse. No, the only man strong enough to lead House Leontes is you.”