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“Not if he’s dead.”
I assigned Sevro to infiltrate the Citadel in Agea where the ArchGovernor is being held captive. But I did not tell him to kill Augustus.
“You’re not going to kill him,” I say with authority. “I forbid it. It is …”
“Necessary. You don’t need his legitimacy. Haven’t you figured us out yet? Here you get what you take, no matter the right of it.” He spits on the ground. “You are twenty years old. If you win Mars, Darrow, you become a living god. And so when you reveal what you really are … you transcend Color. Do I register?”
Sevro has grown wiser since we first met. No doubt about that. But I fear he thinks too much of me. Apollo thought he was a god. Augustus thinks he is. A god is not what I should be. A god is something to serve, something to worship. I’ve never wanted that. Eo never wanted that. Sevro will have to learn. This is about freedom. Yet it seems like everyone just wants to follow.
Mustang oversees the troop operations today. She floats through the air with Milia, the horsefaced Gold we adopted at the Institute. Nearer me saunters an ambling, pitiless Gold with a familiar face. I laugh and point him out to Sevro, who curses poignantly.
“Proctor Jupiter?” I call to the man. “Darling, could that really be you?”
“Who else would it be, you uppity brat?” Jupiter comes before me. He’s tall. Careless in the eyes. Hair bound tight. Half a foot taller than me, he’s a sinful, hedonistic beast of a man with an arrogant streak a kilometer long, and it is clear that he and Ragnar are two misunderstandings away from opening each other up. He eyes the razor wrapped around my forearm, and I see his is worn in the same new fashion. “I heard you’re the one responsible for the new style.” He holds up his arm. “I do approve. Bold as a naked prick in an ant nest.”
“Limping still?” Sevro asks.
“Shut up, Goblin,” Jupiter sneers.
“Daddy dearest had a little duel with Proctor Jupiter here to win the Rage Knight post.” Sevro smiles. “Old man sliced him up the same place I did. Right in the ass.”
“That slippery slag Fitchner is … tricky.” Jupiter nods grudgingly. “Very, very tricky. I have been helping the lady,” Jupiter rumbles on, gesturing to Mustang.
“How so?” I ask.
“Most of the Augustus cities are on communication interdict. Can’t get a word out or in. I’m the emissary to those still loyal. Sneak in. Sneak out. Been doing it for weeks now and sending word to remote dropCaches and the other loyal cities. A whole war’s been going on here with her agents and her brother’s while you were out stitching together a fleet. It’s been nasty, my goodman.”
“So what can you tell me?” I ask.
“Well, Daddy Bellona commands the house fleet against your friends. Cassius and Karnus have been allocated to ground operations inside Agea. I am going to help you find them and kill them.” Jupiter raises his large eyebrows, as though telling us how tedious he finds the chore. “That is the point—kill the Bellona family members and all their allies will suddenly wonder why they’re fighting—isn’t it?” He winks at Sevro. “Next best thing to pounding that Luneborn Sovereign’s head in.”
“You sure all Bellona are in Agea?”
Jupiter nods grudgingly. “Last we saw. That was a couple days ago, though, after they brought Augustus down in chains.” He airily holds up a finger. “And there was a peculiar series of heavy shuttles that landed last night.”
I wave a hand, ignoring mention of the shuttles. He squints at me, but I tell him to shut up and get behind me as I meet Mustang and her entourage.
“Everything is prepared,” she says. “We’re awaiting launch orders.” She wrinkles her nose as if smelling something foul. “Sevro, do watch Jupiter. He tends to shit where he eats.”
Jupiter yawns. “Pleasure working with you too.”
“Milia, lovely seeing you washed,” I say.
“Reaper.” She nods and smiles, an ugly thing on her face. “Still playing with scythes? Warms the heart.”
“You’ve a heart?” Sevro chuckles.
She examines his height. “A full-sized one.” She pauses. “I saw Pollux just yesterday, on the other side, however. Been sneaking in and out with Jupiter here. You’ve arranged us all a little reunion. I heard about Tactus. He was a bastard.”
True enough. I glance at my datapad. We’ll be at the launch coordinates in five. My team disperses. Mustang lingers, face thoughtful.
“What’s what?” I ask. “Worrying about me already?”
“A little,” she confides, coming close enough for me to smell the scent of her. “But it’s my father. What if they kill him before we even make landfall?”
“They won’t kill him. They’ll need him as a bargaining chip. Or if they’ve lost, they’ll spare him and hope we do the same for all the Bellona family members. You don’t kill men as important as him.”
I reach for her hand to comfort her, but she pulls it away, turning from me. “We have a planet to invade.”
