shiver passed through her at the sound.
Minister Durano was likewise engaged in paperwork, occasionally sipping from the still glass of water on his desk. As the glass trembled and cracked, silver droplets falling to the floor, he started and looked up, his fabled poise trembling for the first time he could remember.
Vir Cotto shook at the sound, his eyes flickering around the dark room. Beside him Mr. Morden smiled slightly, and made preparations to ride out the coming storm.
Countless light years away Carn Mollari heard something, the faintest echo in the back of his mind.
It lived. Once more, once again, it lived, awoken from the womb of the stars, crafted as perfect and as powerful as its race had always been.
But something was wrong. Where were the Guardians, where the Protectors and the Towers of Judgment, from where it would launch its first flight? This place felt wrong, the memories it had absorbed through the blood felt wrong. It could feel the domination of its Dark Masters, but they were not here. They were coming, but they were not here. Where was this place it recognised only vaguely, glimpsed in half–shadows through the slow awakening of the soul?
There were sentients here, beings who quailed and ran from its sight. Its consciousness expanded slowly, absorbing their thoughts and memories. It sent forth its eyes and ears with the crimson mists, and understanding dawned slowly.
There was consciousness here, many minds, each with the residue of potential, a race that could see beyond the veils of time, that could glimpse the soul's shadow.
With a thought to the Dark Masters, it continued extending its consciousness. In their name and in their service it would call all the minds of these.... Sehn'tahr'rhee into one, bringing a communion and an epiphany, and creating a world fit for the Dark Masters to make their own.
Londo looked out at his capital, and saw a single mass of flame. He could hear the cries of his people, but he remained here in his palace, powerless to act.
And he saw the creature, vast against the sky, in the centre of the red mist that swamped all the heavens, that filled the horizon, that brought madness and chaos.
It was happening again, all of it was happening again. Little more than a year since the inexplicable madness had all but destroyed Centauri Prime, and now it had returned, but here the madness was far from inexplicable. Here the cause was plain for all to see.
'Damn you, Cartagia,' he swore. 'I will not let you win. I will not!'
He heard a noise from behind him, and turned to see Marrago come into view. There were two members of the Palace Guard with him. 'The palace is besieged,' the Lord–General said simply. 'Some of the besiegers are our own guards, driven mad. Most of the capital is burning.'
'Yes, I can see. Has everyone gone mad?' He laughed. 'Can we even know? Are communications working?'
'Mostly, as far as we can ascertain. I've received some reports from the rest of the planet. Remarin has been lost, so has everywhere covered by that mist. There's anarchy everywhere.'
'But not here,' Londo said. 'Not in this palace. Around it, yes, but not in it. Why am I not mad? Why not you?'
'A question for another day, Londo, when we have more time to think. We cannot hold this for long. There are places from which we can escape, go into hiding, wait for reinforcements....'
'And then what? No, old friend. We cannot afford to lose the palace, not after everything we sacrificed to regain it. I cannot rule my people as some.... some hidden Emperor. No, we have to stay here. Can we secure the palace?'
'Truly, I do not think so. But if you stay, then I am honour bound to try.'
Londo smiled mirthlessly. 'Has it all come to this? Did any of our victories matter? Was Cartagia right, damn him? Was he right in his dark vision? I saw it, Marrago. I saw forces of darkness and light battling across the sky, searing our world with their war. Is this it?'
'No,' said a new voice, one casual and yet knowledgeable. Both Londo and Marrago turned, the Lord–General drawing his kutari in one smooth motion. Londo did not see his friend's face change abruptly, from mute terror to righteous fury.
Morden stepped out from the shadows in the corner of the room. He brushed an imaginary piece of dirt from the sleeve of his immaculate suit, a futile display of fastidiousness, and smiled. 'This is not the vision you saw, Majesty. This is merely the beginning of it. After all, the forces of darkness and light are not here yet. But they will be.'
'What do you mean?' Londo spat. 'More riddles?'
'No, no more riddles. The Enemy is beaten, Londo. They know it, we know it, everyone knows it, and they're preparing. They have two goals now, only two ambitions. First, they want to salvage something from this war, to seed worlds to begin again in another thousand years. And if they can't have that, then, well.... they want to make sure that no one forgets them this time. They'll die, but they won't die easily, and they'll leave a million scorched worlds behind them. This will be one of them.'
'What? But why? What have we....?'
'You were one of the first, Londo. You and G'Kar were the first to raise arms against them. That merits some revenge, does it not? Also, they were contacted, almost invited here. A bargain for a bargain. A simple question. W
Marrago said nothing. He could not find the words. Londo looked at him, and the dull light of understanding rose. 'You?' he whispered, unable to believe it. Unable to comprehend it at all. 'No. You lie, Morden. You lie.'
'Do I? Ask him.'
'Londo,' Marrago said, his face gone ashen. 'Londo, I....'
'But.... how could you...?' He turned on Morden, an anger blazing within him such as he had never known. 'You know all this and you do nothing? Help us, damn you! You said it yourself, we were the first. We were the first in this damned war, and is this the price we pay for it? Help us!'
'You know our price. We have no interest in saving a Shadow–tainted world, only in destroying it.'
'But you'll die, too.'
'Will I?' Morden smiled. 'Deliver to us all those who allied with the Shadow, agree to our terms, and we will bring a fleet here. We will destroy the creature, help restore order, and lend our strength to reforging and consolidating the Centauri Republic. We will even help you sort out some sort of amicable deal with the Narns. You can't say fairer than that now, can you?'
'Get out of here!' Londo roared. 'Get out of here!'
'I am always open to reconsideration,' Morden replied calmly. He walked forward past Marrago's guards, and stopped as he reached the door, turning. 'By the way, I am to thank for protecting you from the madness. A fairly straightforward psionic blocking device. I made sure you were adequately protected last time, and now I'm doing the same. You see, Londo? We are helping you.'
And with that he was gone.
The Emperor of the Centauri Republic looked at his Lord–General. It was strange, but he had never seen Marrago look so old. 'Londo.... Majesty.... I....'
'Not now,' Londo said curtly. 'Save this palace. Serve your Emperor.' He made each word sound like a barb, and Marrago winced with every one.
'As my Emperor commands,' he said stiffly, and then he left.
Londo looked out once more across his capital, and dark thoughts moved through his mind.
Kiro moved through the corridors of the palace, exulting in every step. He moved unopposed, there was no one to challenge him. The few guards who stood in his path fell before the power of his glorious son, kneeling before him and begging him to be their Emperor. Mariel was at his side. She could not leave him now, she was bound to him utterly. She would not be his Empress, no. He knew in the darkness of his mind that another was destined for that. But she would be important. Very much so. She was a living reminder that, where once he had
