Bonds of Brass (The Bloodright Trilogy #1) - Emily Skrutskie Page 0,83
was like something came over me, ripping out the lacing that’s been keeping me together for the past seven years. And if that wasn’t enough, I had to look General Iral in the face as the man I’ve idolized since childhood laid his hope on our shoulders. I may hate that Gal has to keep checking, but there’s no question why he feels the need to do so for the second time today.
But through all of this, through every part of this mess, the only thing that’s ever mattered is Gal. There’s only one side that has my allegiance. It’s not Archon, which fell and fled, or Umber, which conquered and reshaped. It’s not the past. It’s that possibility of a better future. It’s only ever been Gal.
Gal emp-Umber, but that isn’t exactly helpful at the moment.
“I’m sure,” I tell him. I’ll tell him as many times as it takes. “No matter what, I’m with you.” The pure relief of that simple truth cuts through the confusion. I was caught in the swell of an ocean wave before. Now I’ve found my footing in the sand. “But we need to decide what we’re going to do.”
He takes his time before answering, his fingers tangling in his lap. “There’s no way out but through. If we withhold information from the resistance, they’ll get suspicious. They’ll investigate. And if they find out who I am, we’ve handed them the greatest weapon they could possibly have. With the right negotiation, they could probably ransom their ruttin’ empire in exchange for me.”
The urgency in his voice has brought him right up against my ear, and I slip my arm around his shoulders to steady him. He doesn’t tense up at the contact—instead, he relaxes right into it, melting against my side in a way that has me tensing at how easily we could topple into something out of control. “So we have to feed them information,” I whisper, trying to get my thoughts back on track. “The kind that forces them to keep us. Maybe even…the kind that gets them moving where they’re headed.”
Gal stiffens. It’s no innocent comment coming from my lips, not when he’s seen firsthand what this place seems to awaken in me. I can’t want the resistance to launch an assault. I don’t want the resistance to launch an assault. Not when our friends would be caught in the crossfire. Not when it’s only been seven years since the last war.
I take a deep breath, trying to sort through the facts. First, we have to give the resistance information. Second, we need the resistance to make it back to the Archon territories.
But a third fact slips into my mind, one with ramifications that go far beyond the crisis we’re facing. Third, and maybe most important, Gal needs to return to his empire with a show of strength. Something massive, something bloody. Something that will leave a mark.
And this plan doesn’t need the resistance to win.
“So we give them information,” I say slowly. “But not all of it. And not always the right information. We know the interior defenses inside-out.”
Gal straightens, inhaling deeply. I turn my head to find his face taut, his hooded eyes pinched shut. I know he doesn’t want me to go on. I also know he doesn’t want to finish the thought out loud himself.
So I lean forward, my lips skimming his ear. “We could convince them it’s possible to win Archon back. And then we walk them into a trap. Iral only escaped the first time because he had a trick up his sleeve that can’t be repeated. Imagine telling your mother that you didn’t flee—that you came here to pursue the Archon uprising that tried to out you as heir and obliterate you. You could take the throne with the defeat of Maxo Iral and his final rebellion on your hands.”
He stares at the crooked nest of his clenched fingers, and hangs his head. “The galaxy would bow to me. If…If I…”
If he brings her Iral’s head. If he stoops to the violence it took for Iva emp-Umber to claim her legacy and outdoes her a thousandfold. If he finishes what she started, crushing the