“I mean rule Ethar.”
“Your ambition scares me, Kyon.”
“Your lack of it angers me, Kricket,” he retorts honestly.
“Why would I want to rule Ethar?”
“It’s not a matter of want. It’s a matter of need.”
“You think I need to rule Ethar?”
“You’d like to live, correct?”
“It’s sort of a priority for me,” I say with a nod.
“We only live if we rule. It’s as simple and as hard as that, Kricket. Kill Excelsior and the Brotherhood or eventually they kill us.”
“Those can’t be the only options,” I breathe. “Someone else can rule once they’re gone.”
His grip on my arm becomes painful as he pulls me along. At the top of the stairs, we exit the house onto the rooftop. Chandrum waits for us in his silver airship. Once inside, Kyon shows me to a large, comfortable seat by a long window in the back away from the cockpit. He takes the seat next to me. The airship lifts straight up into the sky. Several ships that resemble silver hawks fall in with ours. They form a V-shaped line, like geese in flight, when we rocket away from Kyon’s small island.
“Who are they?” I point to the other fowl-like airships.
“Armed escorts.”
“Protecting us or making sure we don’t leave?”
“They’re my people. They work for me. We’ll be safe until we get to Urbenoster.”
“What’s in Urbenoster?”
“It’s the capital of the House of Alameeda.”
“Are you worried about our reception?” I ask.
“I never worry. I handle whatever comes.” He’s not lying. He’s someone who doesn’t waste much time on an emotion like worry. I envy that in him.
When I spy Urbenoster ahead of us through a pass in the mountains, it takes my breath away. Rocky snow-capped peaks encircle the glimmering city like a stony tiara. Two mountain-sized griffins have been carved from the rock where a gap resides in the mountain range. The fierce sentinels stand on either side of the opening to the city. The carved griffins have eaglelike heads attached to the bodies of lions. Gray, stone wings flourish from the backs of the statues. As we approach, the sun is behind the stone images, casting shadows that give the eagle faces a more sinister mien.
If there were ever a city made of the tail end of a rainbow, it’s this one. Gone is the Viking enclave that I’ve been living in for the past few rotations. Everything here is shiny and new. There’s nothing misshapen or occurring by happenstance. Every line of every building has the appearance of being meticulously planned in advance, giving it the feeling of completeness in thought and form. The buildings soar above the mountaintops. Blue silken flags wave in the breeze on every eave and rooftop. Glittering, golden confetti pours out of windows to float on the wind as we fly at a sedate pace through channels of airspace between the skyscrapers.
“They’re celebrating,” Kyon murmurs to me.
“What are they celebrating?” I ask.
“The end of Rafe.”
My throat grows tight and I no longer find any of it beautiful.
Not long after entering Urbenoster, we’re met by vehicles that resemble silver wheel-less chariots, manned by men in blue uniforms with blue helmets with griffin wings on the sides. They escort us into an empty traffic channel. No other airship traffic is about on this route. We pass by streaming blue flags that each have a white emblem of a griffin in its center.
My head begins to hurt. My breathing slows and my hands turn to ice. Kyon glances over at me. His hand reaches out and covers my frigid fingers. He whispers, “Don’t fight it, Kricket. Let it come.”
“Let what come?’ I ask in misery, fighting desperately to maintain consciousness within my body.
“Let the future come to you. Let it show us of the danger that lies ahead,” he whispers. He lifts my cold finger to his lips, kissing them. “Tell me why we shouldn’t be here, Kricket.” With those words, I’m ripped from my body, leaving it behind.
“Stop!” I scream, just as I did when I was in the future. Spilling back into my deflated body, my eyes fly open and I arch in pain. I paw at my chest, because my fingers don’t work like they should. I groan, my mouth opening in agony. A hand sweeps my fingers from my chest, covering my erratic heart as it beats out of control.
“I’ve got you, Kricket,” Kyon murmurs.
Wild-eyed, I pant and strain against his hand. He holds me in my seat as I thrash against it. I have the strongest urge to get up and run, but there’s nowhere to run. I need to leave. Slowly, the deep stabbing pain in my chest turns into phantom pain and recedes. My breathing begins to slow.
“How are they going to kill us?”’ Kyon asks me.
I wince. “How do you know they’re going to kill us?” I ask.
“I expect nothing else from the Brotherhood. It’s a test. If you can read it, you get to live . . . for now. Do they succeed?”
“Yeah—they definitely get us.”
“How?”
“It’s our welcoming committee—they’re not so . . . welcoming. Four assassins. Two snipers on the eaves of the buildings at one o’clock and fifteen o’clock and two soldiers at close range—the ones in Peney diplomatic uniforms who will be on either side of Em Sam. You remember Em Sam, right?”
“Em Sam—his title ‘Em’ means ‘preeminent’—he’s an ambassador.”
“He’s an ambassador from Wurthem,” I tell him. “We both met him at the palace when I was Manus’s ward. We had several dinners together.”
Kyon’s eyes narrow in contempt. “I remember him. He’s the ambassador from Wurthem who spent a lot of time trying to seduce you right under Manus’s nose.”
“He never tried to seduce me!” I reply in confusion.
“He did. You’re just naïve. If he had gotten you alone, he planned to smuggle you out of the palace to his home in Oxfortshire.” Kyon pulls out his harbinger from the holster on the thigh of his uniform. He checks the side arm’s power level. Absently, he asks, “Did you die?” My eyes move from the gun to his face. My brow wrinkles. He nods his head to the side. “In the future, did you die?”
“Yes,” I reply, “but not before you. You stepped in front of me.” I swallow hard, remembering how Kyon’s head exploded with blue sparks that pushed his teeth out the back of his head, spattering blood all over me.
“Did that surprise you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Given our history, I didn’t think you cared for anyone but yourself.”
“For someone who can see the future, you’re blind. At least your precognition is clear.”
He glances at me. I must look scared, because his eyes soften. Reaching over, he cups my cheek. “You did well.” I find his touch oddly comforting for a moment, until he adds, “We might survive tonight after all.”
The airship lands and he gets to his feet. Chandrum joins us from the front of the aircraft. “I need your harbinger,” Kyon says as if he’s asking to use Chandrum’s communicator.
Chandrum doesn’t hesitate at all before handing Kyon his sidearm. Kyon then goes to a compartment near us. Opening it, I see it’s loaded with ferocious-looking weapons. “Should she wait here?” Chandrum asks as he indicates me. From the rack, Kyon takes down a long-barreled, riflelike weapon that Strikers usually carry.