“Excuse me?”
“Kip, do you think you’re the first young man to see that the games of his elders are stacked against him? Do you think you’re the first to rage against the game upon finding out that you’re not much of a player?”
“Look, old man—”
“Yes, I am old, and how old are you now? Even out of your teens yet?”
That caught Kip up short. But he didn’t bother to answer.
“Even in our world, where drafters, and the children of noble families, and most of all those who are both, must mature early, you are still very, very young.”
“My uncle Dazen set the world on fire by the time he was my age,” Kip countered. “And my—”
“You consider that an achievement?” Andross interrupted before Kip could start on his father’s deeds.
“He moved the world by his will.”
“No, he didn’t. He didn’t even set the world afire. He provided a spark to one powder keg among hundreds. He invited other fire throwers to his banners because he was so desperate for support, and they came because the old grievances were so strong.”
“You backed him into a corner,” Kip said. “And you did nothing to disperse all that powder, though you were in a position to do so. It was your failure.”
“Perhaps you know less about that history than you think. You ascribe more power to me than I had at the time.”
“Do I?” Kip said.
“I came from the outside myself, Kip. I was a nothing like you. I started from the bottom of the nobility to get where I am now. I had to make gambles, time and again, that would make your testicles quiver. And I didn’t win every time. When the war broke out, I was still heavily in debt from all the bribes it cost me to get onto the Spectrum, and there were masterful players at that table who’d seen me coming and wanted me ruined, if not dead. You see me now and believe that I was ever thus.”
“No, I hope that you weren’t,” Kip said. “You never got around to telling me how you closed off the chance for me to simply leave and not play your games.”
Andross’s eyes flashed, but then he suddenly smiled, and this time it hit his eyes. “This, this is why I’ve longed to play you again, Kip. You give me the uncomfortable pleasure of playing against an opponent who will bring out the best in me.”
Kip couldn’t help but suddenly remember those moments when he’d actually missed sparring with the old man. But this was insanity; they didn’t have time for this.
“But to answer your question: unattached young men are destabilizing,” Andross said. “Like the lover of fire who burns down homes for pleasure and wouldn’t altogether mind if the flames took him as well, a young man might tell you to go sodomize yourself, even if it’s the worst possible thing he could do for his own interests. This is why young men go to war. It’s why they gamble ruinous amounts. It’s why they jump off heights to impress others and bear the pain of their injuries for the next fifty years. Anyone who might kill himself to hurt you is dangerous, hard to predict. You were one of those. You’re not any longer. Why do you think I gave you a wife? Why do you think I gave you the Mighty? Why do you think I let you recruit your own army and have success with it? Because every bond is a fetter. Every extra thing you love makes you easier to predict.”
“You didn’t give those to me,” Kip said.
“Didn’t I?”
Fuuuuck.
Andross’s eyes glittered at the doubt he saw in Kip’s, and he went on. “I’d hoped you’d have a child on the way by now. I figured a young man who grew up without a father would be loath to abandon his own child. But you do have a wife to think of, and friends you wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to.”
Kip didn’t want to believe that the very happiness he’d enjoyed had been afforded to him by Andross Guile, and he knew the man wasn’t above taking credit for things he hadn’t done, but he was the master.
The phrase pulsed in Kip’s head: ‘The Master.’
That card. But it triggered no further memories or visions.
“You know you’re insufferable, right?” Kip asked.
“A common trait of the Guile men.”
Kip shook his head, trying not to smile. Dammit. “How do you do this?” he asked.
Andross waited for him to clarify.
“How do I like you, after all you’ve done? I should . . .” I should abhor you, Kip thought, but it wasn’t the time to say such things.
“Water seeks its own level,” Andross said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kip said.
“It means we’ll be playing three games.”
“That doesn’t answer my question in the slightest.”
“The first two will have stakes high enough to keep your interest, and by the time we’re finished with the third, you’ll understand why this is not only worth the time you’ll be spending away from preparing for the battle, you’ll understand that what we’re doing will quite likely decide the battle.”
“We’re on the same side,” Kip said, disbelieving. “If you want me to do something, just ask.”
“I want you to play three games with me to decide the fate of the world,” Andross said.
Kip had walked into that. He thought for a moment. What leverage did he have to refuse?
“Please,” Andross said. He gave a serpent-cold smile.
“Since you asked so nicely,” Kip said.
“Stakes for the first game are a secret for a secret. If I win, you tell me what happened to all of Janus Borig’s cards. Everything you know. Including the ones you left out last time.”
That sounded suspiciously non-terrible, though Kip knew there had to be some angle on it. “Understood. And if I win?”
Idly, Andross spun a ring on his finger. “I’ll tell you your mother’s story.”
“You mean my real mother.”
“Well, if you want Karris’s real story, you’ll have to ask her yourself. I think there are some things you might learn about the woman who called herself Katalina Delauria that might change how you feel about her.”
“What do you mean by that? What do you know about my mother?” Kip demanded. He’d sworn he didn’t care about her anymore, but his emotions went so hot so fast that he saw he’d only been fooling himself.
“Quite a lot more now than I did even a month ago. I had a visit with Lina’s father. Most illuminating.”
“I have another grandfather?!”
“Tragic story. Lina and Asafa were very close. They corresponded until she became convinced it was too dangerous for her to continue doing so. That, of course, was long after she’d run away. He’d love to meet you. Would you like to meet him?”
Run away?
Too dangerous?
Kip had a whole other family?
His grandfather’s name was Asafa? Kip could meet him?
The questions piled on top of each other, throwing Kip’s heart to the winds—until he saw Andross’s coolly smug smirk.
This was Andross Guile’s favorite thing in the world, wasn’t it? Knocking people off balance, then lording his greater knowledge over them, then manipulating them with it: this was his real game.