token and good son, stood and waved, to even louder applause. Kip copied him from across the aisle and got his own applause—just as loud.
Then Karris stood, and then Tisis, and the applause grew louder still.
Dazen grinned at Kip, and saw his son had the same fool grin he did.
Must run in the family.
“Not a bad speech, old man,” Dazen said after all those on the platform had recessed off to one of the side rooms.
“Felia wrote it,” Andross said. “ Thirty-eight years ago. Not all of it, of course. But she told me to give them some reason to cheer at the end.” He pursed his lips. “She should be here.”
“She did all she could to make it so the rest of us are,” Dazen said.
Andross expelled a slow breath at that. He seemed different. They walked together out a rear exit of the hall. They were about to go separate ways, but now they paused.
The new Lightbringer said, “Kip was right, you know: I’m the right person for this time. I know the personalities, the old feuds, the true stories behind family myths, the economies and the familial ties. With help from more handsome and tactful faces, I can bind up these satrapies as no one else could hope to. I know what can be broken and what can only be bent slowly. I can make these lands better—safer, stronger, richer, fairer, more just, more open, more free. I have perhaps ten years left to my mortal span, twenty if I’m disciplined and fortunate, and I will make this land endure—not fall apart under a weaker personality or less capable hands.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Dazen asked.
“Son, you know how I view vows.”
“Yes.”
“This office? I vow to do my best to be worthy of it.”
Dazen nodded his thanks and turned to go.
“Oh, and one last thing. Not that it will mean anything to you,” Andross said to his back. His voice lowered. “Not that it should. It shouldn’t. But I’m grateful for both of you. Proud of you.”
Fists tightening, Dazen barely suppressed the urge to spin and punch his old man in the face.
You dare?!
He wanted to scream Sevastian’s name in the old murderer’s face for an hour. And then Gavin’s name for just as long.
He wanted to shout, ‘I gave you my empire; I gave you my victory; you don’t get to have my family, too!’
But . . . it was a step. A tenuous step, beginning a long climb toward wholeness for this broken, quarrelsome, ravaged family. Dazen could sabotage it now—and goddam but Andross deserved to be pushed into the abyss—or he could help. They weren’t going to complete it today or this year. Maybe they never would. Maybe they were too broken. Maybe forgiveness was too hard.
But he could take one tiny step. Couldn’t he?
“Well, then—” Andross said, turning away.
“Thank you,” Dazen said. He couldn’t look back, couldn’t risk meeting the old man’s eyes. That was too much, for today. “Thank you . . . father.”
Chapter 150
After the ceremony, Kip went to the infirmary and spent some time with his old Nightbringers who were wounded, bringing comfort and cheer where he could. Not all the living were well, but they were all being tended to admirably.
With that realization, he made to where two more wounded awaited him: Teia and Ironfist.
At the lifts on the way there, Kip was surprised to find Ferkudi, Ben-hadad, Winsen, and Big Leo. They’d been waiting for him.
“Where’s Tisis?” Big Leo asked.
“Taking care of the real work so I can goof off with you layabouts,” Kip said. He smiled. “It’s good to have all of us together again. Most of us, I should say. Dammit. Sorry.”
“No, you’re right. Cruxer should be here,” Ben-hadad said. He swallowed.
“And Goss,” Ferkudi said. “And Daelos.”
“And others,” Big Leo said. “Lots of others.”
In the battle, they’d all proven themselves heroes. But Kip hadn’t needed a battle to show him that.
They made it to the private room Teia and Ironfist were sharing. It was guarded by an honor guard of Tafok Amagez and the new Mighty and the Blackguards. After knocking, Kip stepped inside the door, then slipped through the black curtains, careful not to let in any light that might kill Teia.
“You in here?” Kip asked, not really serious.
“Sadly,” Teia said. “Some old guy keeps telling me stories about the glory days or something.”
“If I could move, I would so kick your ass for that,” Ironfist’s voice said.
Kip shifted his vision to the