Sophia had grown so pale Lukys feared she might lose herself, might surrender to the uncontrollable rage of the Tangata. Silently he reached for her, but she jerked away and swung on him, eyes wide, shining.
“You’re talking about my people,” she said, and hearing her voice break, Lukys knew suddenly the grief that lurked beneath her rage. “About slaughtering thousands of innocents. How can you be so casual, so calm, as though they were no more than numbers on a piece of your paper.”
“They are the enemy now, My Lady,” Nguyen replied softly, leaning forward in his chair. “They have chosen their side.”
“They have chosen nothing,” Sophia grated. “Maya controls them, just as she would have controlled me, or any of my sisters and brothers in this room, had she turned her mind against us.” She shook her head, and Lukys’s heart twisted as a tear streaked her cheek. “You don’t understand, can’t understand…”
She trailed off and Lukys reached for Sophia with his mind, seeking to comfort her, to reassure her that he was there, that he understood. But for the first time since they had been granted the gift of the Sovereigns, he was met by a wall of grey, so thick he sensed not a hint of what hid beneath.
The sudden absence of her mind made his heart begin to race and he sat frozen for a second, unable to focus, to pull his thoughts together. Sophia’s grey eyes swept the room, and in them he saw the emotion she hid, anger and fear, and confusion too. She knew the threat Maya presented, the danger the Old One posed to all their kinds. Her people were not the only ones that would suffer should the Old Ones return.
But they would be the first, if they were to stop Maya.
Abruptly, Sophia rose. Without another word, she strode from the room. Movement came from around them as the other Tangatan guards followed her out, until only the humans remained.
Letting out a long sigh, Nguyen sat back in his chair and entwined his fingers. “There is a time in every ruler’s reign where they come to realise a terrible truth.”
“Oh, and what’s that?” Lukys snapped. In Sophia’s absence, he found himself suddenly agitated, anxious about their seperation. He could feel the memories pressing on him, an enormous ocean on which his consciousness floated, waiting to swallow him up. He feared there were more perils to the Sovereign gift than either of them knew.
The king raised his eyebrows at Lukys’s tone, but when the Sovereign did not offer an apology, he went on with his explanation.
“There are many who call me a coward, who hate me for my actions following the southern campaign.”
Lukys frowned at that. The king was not wrong. Just over a decade ago, the four kingdoms had led an invasion into the Tangatan homeland—only to have it go disastrously wrong. Barely half of those who had marched south had returned. Afterwards, Nguyen had withdrawn from the alliance, leaving the other kingdoms to face the wrath of the Tangata without Gemaho’s aid.
“Most would have had me remain faithful to the alliance,” Nguyen continued, his voice soft. “To send more Gemaho soldiers south to the frontlines, to be used as fodder in the battle against the Tangata.”
Lukys frowned, surprised by the admission. “It was a cowardly act.”
“Perhaps,” the king replied evenly, “but also a kingly one. Others do not understand, but before all else, a king’s duty is to his people. Our own wants and desires, our pride and vanity, our past loves and friendships, all of it must be put aside before the weight of duty.” He looked away, gaze sweeping out to the ships at anchor in the harbour. “I faced the Tangatan charge once, on the plains south of Calafe. After the events of that day, I knew they could not be defeated, not in open battle. Resistance would mean deaths by the thousands. That was a price I was unwilling to let my people pay.”
He looked back at Lukys, and in that moment he saw the pain in the man’s eyes, the guilt at what he had done.
“And so I ordered the Gemaho to withdraw. I abandoned the lands of Calafe, the kingdom of a man that had been my friend. Had it only been me, I would have fought to the end to protect those lands. But as king…” he trailed off, spreading his hands as though he had said everything that needed saying.
Lukys swallowed as Nguyen’s emerald eyes watched him, until finally his gaze fell to the floor. A lump lodged in his throat and he shivered, thinking of all that stood before them. The challenge they faced was daunting, the thought of protecting all of Perfugia, of defending the shores of this peaceful archipelago all but impossible. And yet…
Swallowing, Lukys rose to his feet and nodded to the king. “I’ll talk to her.”
4
The Tangata
Standing in the centre of the village, Adonis felt the very air thrumming with the Voices of the Tangata, with the growing excitement that always came before Maya’s arrival. This was the third Tangatan village they had visited since reaching the lowlands. And it would be the third they left empty, abandoned as its occupants marched north, just as its former owners the Calafe once had.
Only the Calafe had fled before the Tangatan invasion.
Adonis’s brethren would march north for conquest.
The murmur of Tangatan voices swelled to a roar in Adonis’s mind, though beneath he could still sense the beating of Maya’s own Voice as she worked her power on the crowd, feeding their anger, their lust for revenge against the humans that had tormented them. Old memories of the human invasion swelled in his mind, of brethren who had died to human blades, of youth put to the
