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It’s one of the first times I’ve seen pity in his eyes.
“Pax is safe. We got it under control….”
“You have half the bounty hunters in the Republic after you,” I say. “The Wardens are one step behind. You and my husband killed Wulfgar. He was their founder. Their war hero. Accident or not, they want blood.” I put a hand on the table, minding the spit. “Sevro. Brother. What about this seems in control to you?”
That plays on his guilt and his insecurities. He doubts Victra’s plan. His shoulders curve forward into the slump he always wore as a young man. Selfishly, I want him to choose to tell me. I need that choice from him so I don’t resent him for the rest of my life.
“Sevro, where is my boy?” I ask one last time. His eyes are starting to go glassy. “I know this isn’t your doing. You’d be with your daughters, not carving up my city. But you can choose to tell me.” He swallows, looking for some escape. He wants t
o tell me, but he loves his wife more than his conscience.
“I wasn’t here,” he mutters. “I had Darrow’s back till I had to have Victra’s. You’re third in line. So don’t keep asking. We’ll get Pax to you. That’s an oath. But I gotta have my wife’s back.”
“So you won’t tell me.”
“Maybe I’d tell Mustang. But you ain’t her. You’re the Sovereign now. I finally get that. V’s been telling me that for years. You’re the Sovereign. Darrow’s the Reaper. Everything else is second. Shit, I ain’t even supposed to be talking to you.”
“Yet you are.”
He nods. “I’ll catch hell for it. She thinks you’re some sort of mind reader. Or that I’m a dumbass that’ll spill the beans. Prolly true.”
It hurts to see him like this. I want to be angry with him. In some ways I am. But this isn’t his fault. Victra is to blame. Julii have always had cantankerous genes. There is no right or wrong for her, only hers and everyone else. I was hers. It was a warm place to be. But over time I alienated her as Virginia shrank and the Sovereign grew. Perhaps it was inevitable, a faultline between the consciences of our two clans that now has ripped open into a gulf. It may never mend. But Sevro is Sevro. I have to believe that. No matter what he does, he doesn’t go cold like Victra and Darrow. This is breaking him apart. The horrid violence, the lowered head, the refusal to communicate—all remnants of his early survival mechanisms. Do we ever leave them behind?
I don’t need him to betray Victra. I can’t ask him for that. But I can relieve this burden from him, and maybe this gulf between us. Communication is our salvation.
“Sevro, I already know what she’s doing.”
“Naw.” His eyes harden. “She said you’d say that. Try to pick me for intel.” He hefts his knife. “Now stay real still. I don’t want to poke any of you. But this needs doin’.”
“He’s never seen the Queen’s face, Sevro,” I say.
“We’ll see about that.”
He expects Holiday to rise up and block his path as he walks toward the cube, but she stays seated, as I ordered.
“I know why Victra went to Mars,” I call after Sevro. He doesn’t stop. “She’s going to pay the ransom.”
He stops short of the interrogation cube’s door.
“Victra wouldn’t go to Mars unless our children were there. And you wouldn’t dare attack the Syndicate if they still had them. So they don’t.”
“Nice try. Ain’t fallin’ for it.”
“That leaves us with four possibilities. A third party hired the Syndicate to steal the children and received them as planned. A fourth party intervened and has them, and the Syndicate’s original plan and backer are out of luck. Or Ephraim sold the children to another buyer. Or he absconded with the children and is ransoming them.”
Holiday emotes nothing.
Sevro turns his head a quarter of the way around.
“The last two are unlikely, judging by the fact we found Ephraim’s right leg at the crash site. The first is unlikely because the Syndicate has put out a bounty on Ephraim, and made no ransom demands to me. So that leaves the second possibility. A fourth party has them.”
Sevro turns all the way around. I feel a sudden swelling of excitement as I realize he won’t betray Victra, but actually wants me to guess it right. He wants to come in from the cold. He doesn’t want this division. But at the same time, he’s afraid his wife is right. If I guess what they’re doing, I’ll bring a stop to it.
“Assuming that is correct, and taking into account Victra’s actions, they have asked for a ransom from Victra instead of me. Wise. Victra is paying that ransom. It is a ransom she thinks I would not pay, otherwise why cut me out of the loop, considering my assets? She may be spiteful, but children are sacred to her. She’d never hurt me that way to teach me a lesson. She prefers knuckles to jaws.
“So, what do you two have that I don’t have, and who is it valuable to? The list is appallingly small. Shipyards, ore haulers, tradeships, and hubs. Taking into consideration the curiously timed pilgrimage Sefi has taken to Earth—and the overabundance of evidence supporting her existence there—I know she is not on Earth. Nor is she with the Obsidian fleet heading opposite Mars’s orbit toward the Belt under auspices of chasing Obsidian pirates. She is on Mars or still within the Heart of Venus, which she purchased through a shell company, awaiting Victra’s ships and possible further aid in stealing Quicksilver’s helium mines in Cimmeria.” I lean forward. “That’s aiding and abetting an attack on Mars.”
Sevro has gone very still. His eyes flick to Pebble.
