Kazia looks up at Lucien. “Can I trust him?”
Lucien considers before answering, “Yes.”
“Okay.” Kazia reluctantly slides his hand from Lucien’s grasp. “I’m a grail, it sucks, and I don’t want to talk about it. Aliza has a phylactery of my blood, which is why the plan begins with breaking into her chambers. Lucien, can you grab me a rat?”
Whisper looks grim; Salarin looks stunned.
Lucien is the only one who speaks. “Which rat?”
“Whoever wants out,” Kazia answers. There are only four chairs at the table. Kazia shamelessly takes the one Lucien vacated. It’s still warm with Lucien’s body heat, which might be weird for Kazia to notice. Even weirder of him to enjoy. He staresat the maps until Lucien sets a rat on the painted spread of the southern islands.
Kazia reaches out, and the rat sniffs ticklish whiskers over his fingers.
“This is Big Fish,” Kazia says. “Do you see how her little lavender patches look like fish scales?”
Standing behind Kazia, Lucien squeezes his shoulders. “Of course.”
“If you say so,” Marek says doubtfully.
Kazia leans into Lucien’s touch. This secret is easier to reveal than the last—it isn’t his own. “Little Fish has similar markings, but she’s smaller. She doesn’t like leaving the colony.” Kazia scoops Big Fish up against his chest. She’s docile today, happy to be held. “Do any of you know how long rats live?”
“Around three years when they’re pets, shorter in the wild,” Salarin says. When everyone turns to her, she shrugs. “My cousin used to keep them.”
“That’s right,” Kazia says. “But I first saw these rats in Radovan’s laboratory six years ago.”
Marek frowns. “They’re not the same rats, though, right? It’s the next generation.”
Kazia strokes Big Fish’s soft belly. “There are eighteen rats in the colony. They’re sterile, and I recognize each of them by their markings. Which means one of two things.”
Lucien’s hands fall away, and he leans on the table next to Kazia. “They have increased lifespans?”
“Or they’re immortal,” Kazia says.
The table falls silent until Marek swears under his breath. Of course he gets it first. He knows Imrik best. “So, all Vana’s scheming was for nothing?”
Kazia nods. “Imrik was never going to name an heir. He never intended to need one.”
“Fuck,” Marek says. “That makes too much sense.”
“No, that does not make sense,” Lucien says, frowning. “What are you talking about?”
Kazia stands up and passes Big Fish back to Lucien. He’s too anxious to sit still. “Imrik and Aliza aren’t content with one lifetime of tyranny. I used to think it was an impossible goal until I noticed the rats. So, I started talking to Radovan, because…” Kazia falters. “Because this world shouldn’t suffer more of my parents than it has to.”
Marek leans back in his chair. “Last year, Radovan had a breakthrough.”
Kazia can’t feel bad about what he did to Radovan. The man chose to pursue that cursed research. Even Radovan’s regret at the end was only for his own skin. Aliza Dire has never rewarded scientific progress.
“What worked for the rats wouldn’t work for humans,” Kazia says. “It took Radovan years to figure out the ritual, but in the end, it was so simple. All it needs is blood.”
“How much blood?” Whisper asks quietly.
“A life’s worth.” Kazia glares around the table. “Father is already a parasite. I refuse to let him live forever, draining other people’s lives.”
The silence is different this time. There’s the horror Kazia expects—each of these people has principles. But Kazia had expected doubt. Rejection. Instead, Lucien and Marek and everyone else believe him.
Kazia isn’t used to being met with respect. “I got rid of Radovan and burned his research, but I found out today then Aliza found another copy. I don’t know how close she is toa successful ritual, but every moment we wait, the risk grows greater.”
A warm hand covers his shoulder. Lucien looks down, holding Big Fish to his chest. “Then we act tomorrow.”
