Page 32 of Into The Rift

The guards came for me as I was finishing the midday meal, after merely picking at the food they’d brought me an hour earlier—some gray, tasteless stew with unknown-to-me vegetables, and some hard bread and what they said was tea in a metal mug. Probably still better fare than my crew was receiving, and my better treatment was most likely due to my grandmother’s influence.

I had no idea what kind of influence she was wielding, actually. She had simply suddenly appeared, fucked up the standoff I had going on with the Tygerians, and then claimed to have come to warn me of some plot against me by the emperor. She had yet to say how this new marriage of hers had come about.

I was glad to see her already in the room where the meeting would take place when I arrived. Her big husband was with her, his arm around the back of her chair, very possessively.

“Niko,” she said as I came in. “Sit here next to me.”

The guards released me, and I sat down, leaning toward her at once. “Itaka, tell me again about this marriage of yours and why you’re here before the Tygerians arrive. You said Linnius wanted to sabotage this mission that he sent me on. But help me understand all of this.”

“There’s a reason I not only survived but thrived all those years in the dula, Niko. I had informants, some among a network of servants. They were the ones who brought me the best information, as they truly see and hear everything. I left Pton and went back to Touzia after Linnius took the throne. You already know all that. Anton was on a state visit to Touzia as a part of a diplomatic mission when I arrived. He saw me in court, and he approached me.” She shrugged. “I’m sure I did nothing in particular.”

“She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen,” King Anton said, gazing at her like a love-struck adolescent.

She glanced over at me and shrugged. “His mother is Pton. It must be something similar to my first husband and his reaction to me when we met.” She preened a little and smiled. “Anyway, Anton swept me away with him, and I’ve been living on his planet for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you get word to me?”

“I tried. I sent you several messages that were returned. Someone must be interfering with your communicator messages, dear. At any rate, one of Linnius’s body servants was present at a meeting between Linnius and one of his assassins. The servant had been serving them until Linnius cleared the room, and even then, he managed to overhear some of their plans. Enough to know that Linnius directed this man to kill you after you reached the rift with the hostages. I came at once to find you and get word to you.”

“But why now? Hating me isn’t exactly anything new for Linnius.”

“No, but your affair with his wife was.”

“Lady Melanius? There’s nothing serious between us. I’d hardly even call it an affair.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t, but he took great offense. There was a poisoning attempt on Linnius a few days ago. Evidence led back to Melanius and she was taken into custody.”

“What? Melanius is dead?”

“Not yet. She’s awaiting execution. I’m sorry to bring you such terrible news. Her family is outraged, of course, and they’re being offered compensation, but they’re still complaining bitterly to whoever will listen to them. The council is not happy about it either, and there’s been a huge uproar.”

“Linnius likes to eliminate political rivals whenever he can. He’s using this as an excuse to murder me and get rid of Melanius at the same time.”

“So you and Melanius aren’t really having an affair?”

“No, of course we are, but it’s nothing serious. She and Linnius have been estranged for years.”

I clenched my hands into fists, overcome with anger and a surprising amount of grief for a moment. The fact he hadn’t killed Melanius yet was a good sign. But he must be making her grovel to him and she would hate every moment of that.

“What kind of compensation could Linnius possibly offer to her family? Is it for sure that there was an attempt to kill Linnius?”

“No, I don’t think so, though Linnius said it. I doubt it personally, because he’s a liar. Listen to me. The emperor thinks you’re plotting his death, or so he pretends. You have to make that plot a reality and kill him. It’s the only way.”

“What? You think I should assassinate the emperor?”

“Yes, I do. And I think you should make it your top priority.”

“Is that a possibility?” a large Tygerian, not much past middle age said from the doorway. I had no idea how long they’d stood there or what they’d heard. The man was powerfully built, red-haired like all of them. He was a huge man, even larger than his grandson Mikol, and he looked mean and dangerous.

He strode almost casually into the room, with Prince Mikol behind him. Trailing them both was an ornamental human male, who was holding tightly to Prince Jago’s arm. He had the same oddly bright blue eyes that Prince Rakkur had, and the resemblance was striking. This must be Rakkur’s male bearer of course, and grandparent to Jago, though he hardly looked old enough. He was quite small in comparison to his husband, and I wondered what he could be doing here in this meeting. Leaders didn’t bring their pretty bedmates to important meetings on Pton, and I was surprised to see it done here.

It was also the first time I’d seen Jago up close since he was taken off my ship. I was glad to see he didn’t look as if he’d suffered any ill effects. The bruises were a shame though—they didn’t belong on such a face. His generous mouth was a bit pursed, as if he were biting his lips from the inside, and his remarkable navy-colored eyes held shifting light as he glanced up at me. He looked worried and stressed. Those dark, bottomless eyes shouldn’t have reflected light in such a way, but they did.

Itaka seemed surprised at the newcomers entering so abruptly for a moment but quickly recovered. “Oh, you must be King Davos,” she said, not getting up or making any effort to do so. “I’ve heard plenty about you. I apologize, sir. If I’d known you were eavesdropping on us, I’d have tried to make my conversation with my grandson more entertaining for you.”

“Itaka,” her husband Anton said in a soft, shocked voice. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty.”

Davos merely smiled as he took his seat at the head of the table, but it never reached his eyes and they narrowed slightly. “Quite all right. I was eavesdropping. And it was entertaining enough, Lady Itaka. You’re right. I’m King Davos, and I believe you already know Prince Mikol. This,” he said, nodding toward the blond man at the back of the little procession, is my consort, Blake, along with another of my grandsons, Prince Jago, one of the young men your grandson kidnapped so dishonorably.”

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