Marex grinned. “We do.”
“They made them,” Wesley announced. “The Zathki. Crux stole all this technology from the Zathki and used it to synthesize hybrid warriors. But he didn’t make any of it himself. He’s been lying to his people. For power and privilege.”
Jax’s mouth turned into a hard line. He inclined his head, just once, but it was enough to indicate his agreement. “But that time is over. We have uncovered the traitor, and Vorian the Bastard has been tasked with bringing Crux to justice.”
I flinched. Vorian the Bastard? That was pretty fucking harsh.
Noticing my unease, Jax tipped his head to the side. “He must recover the dignity of his line. Crux has been shamed. It is on his own house to bring him to justice.”
Wesley reached up to settle his hand on top of the warrior’s. “They’re a little strict here with the whole excommunication thing?”
“Excuse me?” I blinked.
“Vorian will be banished if he fails to recover Crux. We cannot risk another traitor among our noble warriors, among our precious humans.”
Vorian would never—never—choose Crux over, well... I wished I could say anyone, but I didn’t know. Families were weird. And complicated.
But I was pretty damn sure that, after everything, Vorian wouldn’t choose Crux over me.
“Where is he? Where’d Vorian go?” I demanded. These Zathki knew what they were doing, and no tube needed my attention more than Vorian did right then.
Wesley shrugged.
Jax blinked slowly, his smile gone for once. “He has gone to begin his hunt, or to leave our city behind of his own volition.”
I had to fight the urge to scoff at him. Vorian wouldn’t give up. If there was one thing I knew Vorian didn’t have in him, it was that.
“I’m going with him.”
Jax gave a tiny frown and made an aborted movement as though to take hold of my arm and stop me. “He must do this alone, Beau. He is responsible.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Vorian’s house is my own. He is mine. I am his. If he has a place to defend on Thorzan, so do I.”
I stormed out of the lab, hoping to find Vorian outside, waiting for me, ready to explain all of this and set off on the quest together.
But he was not there. Because this was a difficulty, and Vorian, for all his patience and kindness and generosity, would not want to cause me any trouble.
Damn it all.
Unsure what to do, I stormed down the walkway and toward the house across the lookout.
Crux’s house. Where he stayed and slept.
It was far more luxurious than the lab, but given how Vorian had avoided it, luxury didn’t mean comfort. And I doubted Crux would be foolish enough to stay there when the king wanted his head.
But that was where I found Vorian, whether through luck or because some part of him wanted to be found, he was at least starting with the obvious.
When I came in, he was turning out drawers of tablets and trinkets I didn’t understand, rifling through and discarding everything he saw.
“You’re going after him?”
Vorian’s head popped up at the sound of my voice. This once, I had startled him, and there was no explanation for that other than that he was mentally spiraling. He was a warrior—he should’ve heard me coming a mile off.
His nose flared when he exhaled, but he straightened up, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I must bring my father to justice or there will be no place on Thorzan for me.”
I stared at him for a few seconds. It was cruel, sending a son after his own father. But if anyone deserved to decide Crux’s fate, it was Vorian.
“Then there will be no place here for me.”