was taking this conversation, he did not know, but he saw tiny flickers of movement on his pale face, like shadows of things that weren’t there, and the sight made him uneasy. At any moment now, the secretary could return, and the attendants. The servants could arrive with the supper meant for Corien’s private meal with Admiral Ravikant—or, worse, the admiral himself could arrive early.
They could not see Corien like this, covered in the blood of his own soldiers, madness turning like stars in his eyes. The health of the Empire depended on their ignorance.
Simon stepped forward, knowing with absolute certainty what would come next.
“Your Excellency,” he began, “perhaps before supper, we should sort out your study—”
His skull split open, admitting tongues of black fire that plunged down his throat and pulled his spine through his ribs.
The vision was extraordinary, so detailed and violent that for a moment Simon lost himself and swayed. He groped for something with which to brace himself and found the study door.
Seventeen years of living in this palace, and his master’s punishments could still surprise him.
You know better, came Corien’s voice, regretful and pitying in that way Simon had learned not to trust.
“Don’t interrupt me, Simon,” Corien said aloud. “I don’t like being interrupted.”
Simon breathed quietly through his nose, refusing to gulp down air in front of their guest. Let her think it was a mere twinge of pain he had felt.
He watched Corien take Jessamyn’s chin in his hand. “Tell me what you know of the cruciata,” he said.
“They are beasts from the Deep,” she replied, her expression fierce with determination. “They were made aware of us when the angels broke free of their prison.”
“When Rielle opened the Gate,” Corien corrected her.
Jessamyn flushed. “Yes, Your Excellency.”
“And who keeps the beasts from overrunning our world?”
“You do, your Excellency,” she whispered. “Your mind engineered the machines that shoot them down as they enter our world.”
“The vaecordia. The guns of God’s chosen.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“Yes, and my mind controls those machines,” Corien said, “and my mind controls the guards in this palace, and speaks to my generals in Astavar, and speaks to my commanders on the Namurian Sea, and to the adatrox patrolling the streets of Orline. My mind scours the world for the Prophet.” He smiled. “My mind is infinite. I am beyond the understanding of anyone who still lives.”
Jessamyn’s eyes were bright with awe. “Yes, Your Excellency.”
The pain had receded enough for Simon to sense that something was wrong. He was seldom alone in his mind. Only when Corien was immersed in his deepest work, or captivated by drink or music, or shut up in his rooms, brooding on memories, did Simon feel that ancient angelic mind relax its hold on him.
But it was happening now, as Corien knelt on the floor before this wide-eyed girl. His mind seethed against Simon’s own and then vanished, as if some shining blade had cut him free. Simon saw Corien’s shoulders sag and his smile waver, and he had a sudden vision of Corien lunging forward to rip off Jessamyn’s face with his teeth.
“You look different, Jessamyn,” Corien murmured, leaning close to her. “You look different from what she remembered. I’d like to keep you close. I think it will hurt her to see you. And I would like to keep hurting her, until she can’t bear it.” He laughed quietly, touching Jessamyn’s face and then his. “Until I can’t bear it.”
Then he considered her for a moment longer, his laughter quieting. “Actually, I’ve an idea. A grand idea. You see, there’s the boy. Remy.”
Jessamyn frowned. She cut a swift glance toward Simon, then looked back to Corien. “The brother of Eliana Ferracora?”
“Indeed. He rots in a solitary cell in the heart of Vaera Bashta. You will bring him to the Lyceum and teach him as Varos taught you.” He smiled, his gaze distant. “You will turn him cold and heartless. A killer, nothing more than a blade. And he will serve in her queensguard, and every day she resists me will be another day of looking into the eyes of the brother she has helped make into a monster.”
Corien gripped Jessamyn’s shoulders and bowed his head, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Yes. Yes. And there will be no relief from this guilt. Already, she despairs at what has happened to Remy due to her actions. Soon, when she realizes what you’ve done to her brother, that torment will grow and bloom until she cracks all the way