The doctor did his best to collect himself. “Do you know what radiation sickness is? Seizures, burns, hemorrhage . . . incredible pain. Every time that boy uses C5-001’s power, intentionally or not, it exposes him to an amount of ionizing radiation that would kill most species in minutes.”
Ysira understood about half of what he said. Did he think the jargon would intimidate her?
She kept her tone vacant, sluggish. “But it hasn’t killed him.” She tested her restraints, searching for the right angle to pull.
“Not yet,” Ertagaz conceded. “But it will. Your people are resistant to radiation but not immune. At first, he will recover, but over time, it will take a toll. He will become progressively sicker until in five years, maybe ten, he will develop an incurable cancer and die. He will decay before your eyes. This happened to every individual who hosted this demon before him, without exception. We have the tools to help him, let him live a longer and more comfortable life.”
The words should have frightened her, but . . . both Ertagaz and Tharanoth had been interested in the circumstances of Neri’s birth. His birth—and Ysira’s demon. Because she had stood before the full force of that power they coveted, and unlike the god Nabatar, she had emerged unscathed.
She could not be certain. But because of her demon’s influence on her son’s development, Neri might be uniquely suited to the power he now wielded—moreresistant to radiation. Even if he wasn’t fully immune . . . with that kind of power at his command, he would never have to fear, never have to answer to anyone again. He would be undeniable.
Ysira knew what she would choose. She might well be immortal, but a life of helpless insignificance was no life at all. She would tear out her own still-beating heart and freely trade it, if it meant she would not die feeling likethis.
And she was done listening.
She let Ertagaz sermonize on as she shifted subtly into position. She clenched her teeth, drew a deep breath through her nose, and wrenched her right hand back.Out.Joints popped, flesh tore. Whatever Ertagaz had been pumping into her with those devices dulled the pain but did not eliminate it. She didn’tlet it slow her down. She reached up. Her thumb cracked back into place by the time it was level with Ertagaz’s chest.
He hadn’t expected she’d be capable of this, let alone have the nerve. He tried to stand, stumbling back in shock. Too slow. She seized him by the smock.
“Unlock the restraints.”
He tried to wriggle out of the garment. She yanked him forward, pulling him off balance, and took advantage of the lapse to grab his forearm. Her fingers encircled it, overlapping her thumb. “Now.”
With his free hand, he fumbled for a device at his belt. Ysira’s remaining restraints clicked open. She stood, not letting go of him.
Ertagaz had seemed slightly on the small side, but standing, Ysira proved a head and a half taller. His silvery skin blanched.
“Releasing your restraints triggered the alarm,” he said. “These doors won’t even open for me now. There’s nowhere to run.”
He was still attempting to do something with that device. She seized him by the opposite wrist and yanked it away with asnap.He screamed. Ysira let go, more than a little stunned. His forearm had an extra angle—badly broken. She’d barely touched him. Hadn’t she?
Before the realization could fully dawn on her, Ertagaz tried to bolt. Ysira got in his way, grabbed him by the smock again, and pinned him to the bed. He was lighter than Neri. If he’d tried to stop her, she hadn’t noticed.
“What can I do if you use that fog again?” she demanded. Her demon might have learned immunity to that by now, too, but she couldn’t afford to risk being wrong.
He struggled, grasping ineffectually at her. She forced him around, face-first against the bed, pinning his neck with one hand and his wrist with the other. He cried out, helpless. Sheswore she could feel the terror radiating off him—terror ofher—and a little thrill darted down her spine.
“You’re disposable,” she told him. “That’s why you’re the one in here talking to me, isn’t it? Tharanoth is planning to feed you to your superiors.No one is coming to save you.Answer the question.”
He pointed to his left. She followed his trembling finger to a concave metallic plate on one of the tables. With some effort, he stammered, “We use helmets to keep out radiation planetside. But there’s nowhere to?—”
“Let me worry about that,” Ysira said. “Where is Tharanoth?”
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with. You could never understand; your lifespans are so short?—”
Ysira shoved him into the wall again. He fought with what must have been all his might. A mild nuisance. “Look at me,” she snarled, “and tell me how you’re feeling about that life expectancy of yours.”
He whimpered.
“How long will it take Tharanoth to get here?”
No answer. Ysira tightened her grip.
“Not long,” Ertagaz gasped. “An hour, maybe two.” “Where are the rest of those parasites?”
“Lady Ileth was in the Fractured Peninsula. Lord Rakalem—don’t know—could still be in Zivora—” Ertagaz was almost too distraught to speak. “Turil . . . I’m not told the details of their plans; I don’t know!”
“Tell me where you’re keeping Neri.”
