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“Nine years. I felt much more at home among the Wraiths than I ever had among the Sulato.”
“Is that where you learned to control your abilities?”
“Partly.” Zevon’s questions seemed casual on the surface, but Kyrex had no doubt he was being interrogated. “I also trained with an Altorian mentor and several Houkdi mystics.”
“I’m impressed.” Zevon admitted, looking at Kyrex with new interest. “Did you qualify as a Wraith?”
“I qualify as many things. The only title I choose to apply is controller.”
“That is the only one that really matters, isn’t it,” Zevon agreed with a faint smile. “Sending you to Pyron with Kern is clearly a waste of time, but perhaps you can offer me a perspective it would take a spy months to gain. Your father is new to the Wraith Council. I get the impression that he is somewhat of a rebel. Is my assessment accurate?”
“His situation is not that different from yours. He represents the rapidly growing portion of Pyron that is hungry for change. The other members of the council are intransigent and overly protective of the status quo. Most see no reason to concern themselves with what takes place on other planets so they are less than enthusiastic about the alliance.”
Zevon nodded as he soaked in the information. “Mistress Air has been helpful, though reluctantly so. She wants to see an end to Jevara’s cruelty, but her pacifism greatly limits what she is willing to do.” Zevon stared past Kyrex for a long silent moment. “Pyron is my best option for a reliable collaboration, which means I need the Wraiths.”
It was obvious Zevon wasn’t finished. He was processing his options, deciding on a new plan of action. Kyrex just sat back and let Zevon work through the new information.
“New alliances are always tricky,” Zevon mused. “I’m sure your father doesn’t trust me any more than I trust him. Do you think you can facilitate an in-depth, honest conversation between the two of us? You’ve been here long enough to see how I conduct business and I’m willing to trust your father because of my faith in you and Kern.”
“I thought you’d already agreed to the alliance.”
One of Zevon’s shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. “All we’ve agreed to is cooperation. We need to start working out the specifics.” His golden gaze locked on to Kyrex’s face. “How good is your relationship with your father? If you comm him, will he respond?”
“He’ll respond. I just can’t guarantee when or in what form.” When Zevon didn’t immediately reply, Kyrex asked, “May I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
“How was I supposed to visit Pyron and pose as a rebel on Torret at the same time?” He tried to keep the sarcasm out of his tone. Zevon didn’t seem the type to forget a mission entirely, so there was likely a logical explanation for the apparent oversight.
“Both you and Kern can Flow, so the trip to Pyron would have taken hours, not days. You would have had plenty of time to do both.”
Abandoning the momentary tangent, Kyrex refocused on updating the Wraith Council. Fortress Ellak was about twelve hours ahead of the Citadel. There was no reason to delay sending a message to his father. “Give me a minute. I’ll see if my father can take my comm.”
Movu didn’t react to Kyrex’s first telepathic ping, but he responded to the second.What are you doing up this early? Sunrises were never your thing.
Kyrex was confused by the greeting until he realized that his father thought he was at his estate on Houkdi.I’m at the Citadel with President Zevon. Would you have time to?—
Flowing into the office with the otherworldly grace that had given Wraiths their name, Movu glided over to his son. “Last I heard you were hiding out at your estate dodging the matchmaking attempts of your mother’s relatives. What are you doing here?”
“My mate is here. Well, my potential mate. She has not agreed to let us claim her yet, but the courtship is going very well.”
Movu’s eyes rounded and his lips parted in a blinding smile. “You said ‘letusclaim her.’ You intend to form a power triad?”
Kyrex nodded, his smile mirroring his father’s. “Eden is already in bed, but she is looking forward to meeting you.” He moved to the other seat, making room for Movu. “She isn’t the reason I contacted you.”
Despite the open chair, Movu continued to stand. His silverish blue hair was drawn back into a simple tail. He wore loose fitting pants and a hip-length tunic indicating that he’d been working with a class of trainees. Speculation gleamed in his dark eyes as he turned his head and looked at Zevon. “I told you to send Kern to me. Instead you ask my son to summon me like one of your lackeys. This is not a good start for our alliance.”
“You asked that Kern be directly involved in the recovery of the Earth-raised conduits, and he was. Raina, his mate, is overseeing their training and acting as counselor,” Zevon countered. “It will still be several weeks at a minimum before the conduits are ready to form triads, but I need to make sure our goals are aligned.”
“There’s no need to be coy with me.” Movu finally sat down beside his son. “We cannot begin to rebuild the stability of this star system as long as Torret is ruled by a madman. Jevara must die. We all know it yet we continue to dance around the issue like a bunch of politicians.”
“I agree and am willing to be directly involved. I am not willing to act alone, however, so I need to know if you are offering your support or the support of the Wraith Council.”
Movu crossed his legs and pressed back into his seat. “You have my support without qualification. The other members of the council, however, want assurances.”
“What sort of assurances?” Zevon’s eyes narrowed, the only outward indication of his displeasure. “We want the same thing. An alliance is simply agreeing to work toward that goal.”
“Yes and no,” Movu responded. “Jevara’s hostility is focused on Altor and the Citadel, which means your motivation to end his tyranny is greater than ours. As long as he launches the vast majority of his attacks at Altorian targets, we can afford to hang back and watch.”
