EPILOGUE

Cyyk sat in the courtyard of his father’s estate and watched a large school of koi swim over one another. He wondered why they all moved in the same direction. Every once in a while, one of the fish would change directions sharply, and then the rest would follow. It was a hypnotizing display that used to keep him preoccupied for hours on end. He always wondered if the lead fish knew that it was leading.

A group of statues carved mostly out of one large piece of rock stood in the middle of the pond. Tallest in the cluster was his father, most of his face covered by his ceremonial winged helmet with purple plumes jutting skyward. Only his eyes and mouth were visible, but there was no mistaking who he was. The sculptor had painstakingly created his father’s bushy eyebrows, humped nose, and long, sharp goatee. Cyyk could almost feel his father’s disapproving scowl.

To the right of his father was his mother, carved when she looked just about his age now. She stood demurely by her husband’s side in a tulip-shaped headdress and a formal dress still popular in the Gyian court. Cyyk missed seeing his mother badly. She had died from lead poisoning during one of his father’s campaigns. Cyyk had been too young at the time and had been left at home, which had likely saved his life.

Flanking his parents were his four siblings. Two were now commanders in Sunri’s famed Avalanche Legion. His brother Lisiu had disappeared, presumed kidnapped and killed, before Cyyk was born. The oldest of his father’s children, Cyyan, had married into one of the oldest and most powerful families in Xing. The lord was old and sickly, with a face like a diseased potato, which meant Cyyan would soon ascend in court as well. On the far end of the statues, carved out of a separate, newer stone, was Cyyk, the baby. That right there perfectly explained how expected his birth was to the family.

An attendant approached. “Younglord, your father will see you now.”

Cyyk’s stomach twisted and bugs crawled up his throat. It wasn’t that he was frightened of his father per se, just that there had never been an instance when his father summoned him that had ended favorably.

He followed the attendant past the courtyard and through a zen garden, then a greenhouse. His father liked to claim that he was only a simple farmer who had accidentally become a general.

Two other attendants slid a set of annoyingly tall doors open as they entered the main house. They continued into a large room that looked more like a museum than someone’s personal chamber. An array of pedestals littered one side of the room. On each pedestal was a strange alien item, all Kati gear. On the other side was a mostly intact bixi, minus the tracks. Next to it were the bones of one of their flying glider contraptions, including a tattered cloth. At the far end of the room was a partial hull of one of their supposed under-the-sea boats, although at some point Cyyk wasn’t sure what was truth and what had come from the overactive imaginations of frightened soldiers. He felt another quiver once they reached his father’s audience room. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

The first thing Cyyk did upon walking into the room was shield his eyes. It was abnormally bright, with every sconce lit, and a large fire roaring off to the side. Several floor candelabras had been brought in as well, excessively illuminating the entire room. His father was sitting at a table up a short flight of stairs on the other end of the room. Curiously, he had donned his combat armor. Hanging on one wall was Caobiu’s yellow ducal flag. Underneath it was the Quan family flag, and then beneath that were the many torn and shredded flags of his father’s many defeated enemies.

There were two Mute Men flanking his father at his desk. Father usually shunned them, preferring to rely on his own skills, but there were times when having the Quiet Death’s protection was necessary. Cyyk furrowed his brow; it appeared this was such a time. He had thought this was a private meeting between father and son, but there were a few others in the room: a woman with two strangely garbed people who obviously had arrived with her.

“Younglord Quan Cyknan, my lord.”

General Quan Sah, marshal of Duchess Sunri’s armies, didn’t look up from his papers. “You may leave.” The attendant bowed low and retreated backward out of the room.

Cyyk knelt. “Father, how may I serve?”

“Stand.” Quan Sah looked him up and down. “You’ve grown tall and broad.”

“I train all the time, and eat even more.”

“Your training at Longxian went well? Pity about what happened.”

“Yes, Father. I look forward to continuing my education in the war arts at another school of your wise choosing.”

“I see.” General Quan Sah glanced over at the woman standing off to the side. “I trust then our business is concluded.”

The woman had red hair in an unusual, foreign cut. She was small, but Cyyk could feel the danger of her. She made a face at him, and sighed. “He’ll do, I guess.”

“Watch your tongue,” Quan Sah snapped. “The blood of the Quan flows through him.”

“The fifth Quan,” the woman said, shrugging.

Cyyk froze. He had never see anyone speak to his father so, not even the duchess.

“If nothing else, it satisfies the brood atonement,” said Quan Sah coldly.

“Your mark shield has been renewed, General. The Consortium sends their regards.” There was a hint of mockery in her voice.

“Now get out of my city.” General Quan Sah returned his attention to his papers. “Never return unless you are on contract.”

Before Cyyk could protest or demand to know what was going on, the woman weaved an arm through his elbow and began dragging him back out of the room.

“You said we were getting a girl!” the other woman hissed.

“After the heat the Central Orb put on the Consortium, be happy they didn’t knock us all back to grunts,” their leader retorted.

“What are you doing? Release me! Do you know who I am?” Cyyk tried to break free of her, but she flipped him into a neck lock and flicked the tip of a knife to his chin.

“First lesson of being a shadowkill. Always fight in darkness.” She leaned in and whispered. “The second, the cell shares everything: food, spoils, lovers, and information. Now tell me about your time at the Longxian school, my stupid little baby grunt.”