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Boslin arrived a few minutes later. “Was the message helpful or are we planning an extraction for the party girl?”
“How much do you know about power triads?” Laidon had never discussed the subject at length with either of his brothers. Triads had been created by the rich and powerful so the bloodlines carrying the gifts tended to be wealthy. The worker class, his family’s class, was seldom involved.
Boslin shrugged. “I know the basics. Why bring them up now?”
“Many, maybe even most, of the conduits rebelled about fifty years ago. It is known as the Great Upheaval. Some went into hiding. Others simply refused to respond when summoned to the Citadel. Either way, their actions seriously compromised the power triad program for many years.”
Boslin was still looking a bit confused. “I remember the stories, but it happened before we were born.”
Undeterred by his brother’s impatience, Laidon continued, “Twenty years ago it was rumored that there was a group of conduits that fled the planet and took the next generation of conduits with them. Some say it was only a few, perhaps just one family, but most believe that the number is much larger.”
“Again, why should we care about any of this? Power triads have always created more problems than they solved.”
Laidon knew this meeting would be challenging. Boslin had good reason to resent the Citadel. Still, he had skills and connections that would be invaluable in the weeks to come. Besides, Laidon trusted his brother completely and this situation required trust. “Shalia confirmed that the events are real. Three of the runaways were just returned to the Citadel and Jevara is convinced they are all conduits. One has been claimed already, but Jevara is determined to get his hands on the others.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Boslin narrowed his eyes. “How does Jevara expect to accomplish that? The Citadel is a fortress.”
“He has a spy masquerading as a trainee,” Laidon explained. “And not just any spy—Cylex Mora, though he is using the name Bekar.”
“Seriously?” Boslin shook his head as he expelled a ragged sigh. They both knew Cylex well, had crossed paths with him long before the rebellion. Cylex had been Jevara’s primary henchman for more than a decade. He was ruthless and shrewd, as adept at assassination as investigation. “Cylex is a wily bastard, but no one fakes their way into the Citadel. He must have legitimate abilities.”
“The only thing that kept Cylex from being accepted right out of the academy was the planet of his birth. If he had been Altorian or even Pyronese, he would have become part of a triad years ago.”
Boslin paused to absorb that before asking, “How will his abilities help him kidnap the conduits? Surely they are being guarded.”
“According to Citadel gossip, the two unclaimed cousins have yet to begin training. However, it is just a matter of time until they do.”
“So Cylex is just waiting for them to show up?” Boslin did not sound convinced. “And then what? How will he kidnap two newly traumatized females?”
“He will probably act as if he is helping them escape. That shouldn’t be too hard to sell. Then he’ll load them on a shuttle and fly away. Getting into the Citadel is nearly impossible, but leaving is relatively simple.”
Boslin lapsed into thoughtful silence, his gaze staring through Laidon.
Ready to move on to strategy, Laidon offered the final revelation. “Shalia also learned of an Altorian traitor. His name is Azar Turin and Jevara referred to him as General.”
Boslin’s shoulders lifted in a vague shrug. “Does that name mean anything to you?”
“No, but it might to Zevon Raydo or Prefect Yites. That is what I need to find out.”
“The other world leaders know nothing about this?” Their gazes locked, Boslin’s expression intense and assessing. “This information has great potential for Zevon, perhaps even the Altorians. But how do we use this to our advantage?”
“I am not sure yet,” Laidon admitted. “I only know Zevon by reputation. There is no way he would agree to meet with me even if I lied about my identity.”
“What about your friends from the academy? Are you still in touch with any of them?”
Laidon had attended a private military academy on Altor. They were known for academic excellence as well as rigorous military training. He had corresponded with several of his classmates until the emperor provoked the Altorians one too many times. “There is only one in a position to get me a meeting with Zevon.” Tov Nee owned a small fleet of ships. He worked closely with the Citadel but was not governed by it. If anyone could get Laidon a meeting with Zevon it was Tov. “It has been a long time since we’ve spoken. I am not sure how he would react to the request.”
Boslin shrugged. “There is only one way to find out.” After a tense pause, Boslin said, “I know you had yourself tested a few years back. Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me what you found out?”
Laidon should have known that Boslin would figure it out. Nothing got past him. “I know how much you resent mystics. I didn’t want this to become a point of contention between us.”
Boslin averted his gaze and his jaw flexed before he asked, “That means you qualified as a mystic?”
“I am a controller, level six,” Laidon admitted. He had been dreading this day for three years, yet he was relieved to finally have his secret out in the open.
“How many levels are there?”
“Six.” Boslin’s gaze snapped back to Laidon, but his expression remained blank. Wanting the awkward conversation over, Laidon added, “My primary gift is clairvoyance, which is a common Pyronese gift. However, I scored high as an empath. I suspect our mysterious grandfather is responsible for my abilities.”
