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  “Zeus will be told in due time,” Sohm’lan admonished fondly. “In the meantime, we need to give him our support. Canry…” His eyes burned, but he stubbornly pushed his emotions down. “Canry has entrusted him with this mission. Zeus will need us. He has lived outside Atlainticia in anonymity and has forgotten what it is to be a Prince.” Sohm’lan forced a chuckle. “The Monticore keep messaging me about who will be picked as his guard. They chafe at seeing him only attended by Hadon or the rare time that they have seen him wandering the corridors alone.”

  Mestor laughed, the sound causing Sohm’lan’s scales to tighten and warmth to pool in his gut. Carefully, he extracted himself from Mestor’s arms, ignoring the brief glimpse of longing.

  “I do not understand why Canry chose Zeus to approach the Feteine.” Mestor tore his gaze from Sohm’lan. “It is obvious that he is gifted with farseeing like us, but that does not explain Zeus’s involvement. He has been away from home and is now unfamiliar with galactic politics. He has little knowledge about reaching out to other people and cultures. Azaes would have been the best choice for this expedition since he has the most experience. It does not make any sense.” Mestor frowned and Sohm’lan wanted to press his fingertips against Mestor’s brow ridge and… and…

  What was he thinking? He should not have followed to console Mestor. It would only feed Mestor’s desire for him. Then Mestor gazed at him with those sunrise-yellow eyes full of hope and—Poseidon help him—love.

  Sohm’lan did what he had done that morning. He made his excuses and ran. Gods above, he did not dare look back, otherwise he would drag Mestor into the sleeping chamber, and that action would be wrong on so many levels.

  Chapter Nine

  Azaes

  * * *

  Azaes stared pensively after Mestor and Sohm’lan, worried for his twin.

  He was… unsure how he felt personally. As a ruler, there were things one could not share with anyone, even family. He understood that, but since his parents kept the information about Rathmar from them, he and Mestor had treated Rathmar horribly, believing the bull had betrayed their brother. Knowing what he did now, he was horrified by his actions. He and Mestor had been so sure they were in the right.

  A hail sounded at the door, and thinking it was either Mestor or Sohm’lan, he authorized entrance. Zeus stepped through, smelling strongly of the Dar Massaga. Peering around the cabin as if he was looking for someone, Zeus said, “I thought you would still be in meetings.”

  He crossed quickly to his brother. “You just missed Mestor and Sohm’lan.” He barely held back a grimace, the sudden urge to tell Zeus what they had talked about was strong, but he squashed the notion. As his waterfather had reminded him, it was not his place.

  “You have a few moments then?” Zeus seemed hesitant and Azaes did not know why.

  “Always,” he reassured, wrapping an arm around his youngest brother, contentment filling him when Zeus leaned into him.

  The furniture in his cabin had been specially made for Mar’Sani and their tailless guests. The backrest of the sofa was attached to the base on the ends, allowing him to slip his tail between the two cushions instead of needing to sit on it. Zeus took the space next to him, seeming to have something on his mind, so Azaes waited patiently.

  “I feel as if I should apologize. You are supposed to be home, preparing for your commitment ceremony with Ariafella, not escorting me all over the galaxy.”

  Behind them, he smacked his tail on the floor. Zeus held up a hand. “Let me finish. The moment I stepped aboard the Oethra 7 we became embroiled in a galactic-wide plot. Even Meme and Ariafella have been pulled in. Not that I regret meeting and falling in love with Dargon and Alpha, or speaking to Canry, but—”

  “No buts,” Azaes snapped. Zeus smiled at him indulgently. “We would have been involved anyway. Sooner or later someone would have identified you as Fal’Amoric. That in and of itself would have embroiled us in Galactic Imperial business. Now Canry has asked for help, not only from you, but from Meme as well.”

  Excitement bloomed in Zeus’s eyes. “Do you think that Meme got to speak with him, see him?”

  “I could not guess. I hope so. From what you have told us, you and Shaneva are the only ones to have seen him before today.” And that fact hurt Azaes. Why did Canry not find a way home before now? Why had Shaneva not told them about Canry?

  The day Canry was lost was one of Azaes’ most vivid memories from younglinghood. He might have been only five summers old, but even then, his budding farseeing had warned him something would happen. In hindsight, he wished he had told his parents or Sohm’lan what he had been feeling. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he acknowledged that he had not realized the knowing was warning him. He did not come fully into his farseeing abilities until ten summers later.

  As if he read Azaes’ thoughts, Zeus pressed into his side, trying to give comfort. “From what Nethus told Poseidon, he purposely kept Canry from us. I am sorry I did not remember I saw him back when I was thirteen.”

  “You were traumatized and sick when you returned from the Chtichlian vessel. I overheard Meme talking to the medtech about how much drugs were in your blood. Shaneva should have—”

  Zeus made a loud negative noise, brows furrowing and Azaes braced himself for a scolding. “Hold your opinion about what you think she should or should not have done. Think back, Azaes. When the Chtichlians cut me open, she assisted me by pulling me into the Dream where I met Canry, then she mysteriously disappeared for several weeks. If Nethus was controlling Canry, who is to say he did not have a hand in her disappearance? When she returned, she could no longer leave the Waters, her legs and tail completely fused. Remember how shocked everyone was? We expected her to walk on dry land for another three summers and in mere weeks she was completely transformed. What kind of trauma caused her body to change so rapidly? Tell me that does not sound like rotten fish to you.”

  He touched his brow to Zeus’s. “You make a good argument.”

  Zeus flashed a wide, mischievous grin. “Of course, I do. I was taught by the best. Ariafella always said to leave the thinking in the family to her and me.”

  “You brat!”

  Zeus shrieked with laughter, trying to get away from Azaes’ tickling fingers. Mar’Sani were not ticklish, but when he and Mestor had discovered the places that made Zeus yell and wiggle, they did it often, much to Zeus’s dismay.

  Instead of trying to escape, Zeus tackled him, and they rolled off the couch. He laughed out loud; it had been summers since he’d played like this with one of his siblings. When Zeus left Atlainticia, the family had turned serious, and moments like this were lost. Somehow, he ended up on his stomach with Zeus straddling his back and pulling his tail sharply over his spine. The motion was not painful but paralyzed Azaes, making his arms and legs stick out at his sides. If an enemy had pinned Azaes in such a way, he would have released his barbs, and the being would have been poisoned with only a small nick. As it was, he was merely embarrassed. But Zeus would never tell anyone how he got the upper hand. Just like Azaes and Mestor never told anyone about Zeus’s ticklishness.

  “I give!” He laughed again.

  Zeus rolled off to lie on his back on the floor. They both panted in companionable silence for a few minutes.

  “I miss Ariafella,” Zeus murmured. “She was my first real friend… outside of the family,” he hurriedly finished.

  Azaes frowned. Zeus had to have been only three when he met Ariafella. “Do you remember meeting her?”

  “Sure,” Zeus said, as if of course he had clear memories from such a young age. “I remember much from when I was a youngling. I remember Meme introducing me to the Waters of Poseidon. Oh! I remember when you and Mestor glued rat pelts to your heads. And Meme having a fit because I kept hiding on top of the armoires. She had them moved away from the windows because she thought I was using the curtains to climb.”

  “Mestor and I did that, climb the curtains. We busted a windo
w and landed on the balcony one floor down.”

  “No wonder she was hysterical. I used to put dirty sand in… what was the nanny’s name who attempted to keep you from coming to see me? He claimed I was a bad influence, especially after the rat pelts incident.”

  “Oh, that was Nanny Notus. I once set off explosives in his room.” Azaes chuckled at the memory, then sobered. That was the day Canry disappeared. “He said something to Father about how disgraceful it was that we were mimicking prey.” Azaes vividly remembered that as well.

  When Zeus was two, Azaes saw the nanny hit him and had immediately told his twin what happened. “Mestor attacked him while I escaped the wing to find Father. Even though Mestor was riding him like a barnacle, Nanny Notus followed me. Father was in his office, but I was so scared of getting caught, I ran right by him, hiding under the desk.”

  Nanny Notus had barged into the room with Mestor clinging to his leg. When Mestor saw Father, he had jumped off the nanny and hid with Azaes. In a loud whisper, which probably was not a whisper at all, they told their father about Zeus being struck. Nanny Notus vehemently denied the accusation. But what the nanny forgot was that when Zeus had woken from his afternoon nap, the motion sensors had activated the monitors. Security had followed Zeus via vids as he toddled from the nursery, recording the incident. Meme had been out of the palace, so Sohm’lan had been on his way to pick up Zeus when security called for the Basilisc to apprehend Nanny Notus for questioning. Azaes would never forget how Zeus’s face had already been bruised when Sohm’lan brought him to Valdor.

  “I did not like him,” Zeus remarked. “I used to pee in the sand and take a handful to drop it into his cup of tea.”

  That startled a laugh out of Azaes. “Seriously? You were only two summers and could barely walk in a straight line.”

  Zeus’s grin was wicked. “You would be surprised what I got up to. I hated being in the nursery by myself, especially when Shaneva graduated to her own room.” He sounded nostalgic.

  “You really remember being introduced to the Waters of Poseidon?”

  “Sure, do you not?” Zeus turned his head, his gaze searching Azaes’ face.

  “Yes, I remember being introduced to the Waters, but most events… I do not remember much until my tail was longer. Is that your earliest memory?” Zeus was four moons old when Meme took him into the Waters.

  Zeus’s gaze grew distant. “Yes… No… I do not know. Before my memories of Meme and Sohm’lan, I have these impressions, a voice talking to me. I do not remember what they said, just the sound and how I did not want them to stop speaking. And their scent, I remember that well. While I was at Space Station Bashker’Qa, I would sometimes stop and listen in the common areas, searching for that voice that spoke to me when I was an infant. I knew it was a long shot, coming across someone that knew me before I arrived at Atlainticia, but I would occasionally hope to hear that one voice that made such an impression on me.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I know that sounds silly.”

  “Not at all,” he hurried to reassure Zeus. He could not remember the last time Zeus had shared so much with him. This show of trust was a soothing balm to Azaes’ soul.

  “Do you remember the first time you saw Ariafella?” Zeus teased with a broad grin.

  “How can I not? You would not shut up about her and she was an insufferable know-it-all.”

  “Aww,” Zeus crooned. “It was love at first sight.”

  Not really, Azaes could not stand to be around her in the beginning. She had been only eight summers old and had looked at Azaes as if he bored her to tears just by breathing. Azaes snorted out another laugh.

  “Zeus! Slow down!” Azaes knew his little brother would not run into anything even if he was blind. He just… he was jealous. Zeus was his brother and did not need any more friends. He would never dare admit to being possessive to anyone, not even Mestor, though his twin could sense the emotion through their bond.

  “He is not even going that fast,” Mestor muttered, nonplussed about meeting Zeus’s friend.

  Ten moons ago, Azaes and Mestor were sent to see the petrified park, Angel Trumpet Forest. They had attempted to get out of the trip since Zeus was too young to go with them. When they returned, he had talked nonstop about his new friend, Ariafella. Azaes did not know what to think, at first. Soon Zeus would be graduating from the nursery, free to play with the other young who visited the palace. Most of Azaes’ and Mestor’s friends—because of course no one could only be the friend of one and not the other—had questions about Zeus born of avid curiosity. But he had heard some of the adults talk, sure Zeus would never measure up to Mar’Sani standards. Too frail. Too human.

  Sure, Zeus had a lighter frame when compared to other young. He was also soft-skinned. The first time Zeus fell in front of people dining with his parents, he scraped the skin on his knees and hands. Many rose to their feet at the smell of blood, sure Zeus was terribly wounded… except Zeus got up, brushed himself off and climbed onto his chair next to Meme. There was no crying or hysteria, just Zeus going on as if nothing shocking had happened. Many marveled at his resiliency, but there were those who still pointed out how fragile Zeus was when compared to others. They doubted his ability to participate in activities with young his age without needing to be coddled. Zeus was tailless, and without a fifth appendage to help him balance, many believed that this was the reason why he took so long to learn how to walk.

  Azaes resented the gossip. When Meme heard such murmurs, she shut down the talk. But whether anyone said it or not, they doubted Zeus could be a true Mar’Sani, despite him being able to swim in the Waters of Poseidon like everyone else.

  Now there was this youngling who had somehow made it past Meme’s strict guard and was allowed to make friends with Zeus. Azaes was highly suspicious. This Ariafella could have made friends with Zeus just to quench her curiosity. If she was going back to others and telling stories about him, Azaes would find out and put a stop to it.

  “Ariafella said—”

  Zeus was unaware of the look Azaes shared with Mestor. Azaes rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. How many times had Zeus repeated that phrase?

  “—the Dire D’Noss offspring are little better than beasts, snapping and growling like savages. The parents will leave the offspring with youngless males who are supposed to tame them.” Zeus’s voice lowered to a whisper. “She said the males stuck raising the little heathens are the ones who refused to mate with the female.”

  Mestor abruptly stopped in the middle of the red-tiled hallway, looking as shocked as Azaes felt. Zeus turned when he realized he was walking by himself. His silvery eyes did not land on them, but his full attention centered on them all the same.

  “Does Meme know Ariafella was talking to you about mating stuff?” Mestor demanded.

  Zeus’s nose scrunched up. “That is not about mating. That is about revenge, and yes, Meme was having midday meal with us. It was great fun.”

  Zeus turned and continued walking as if he had not scandalized his brothers. Azaes could not believe that Meme had allowed such talk.

  “Meme told us about the GyrFalconi nests. Did you know that once the female goes out and makes an egg with the breeding male, she will return home and pass the egg to the nesting male who lives with her? He will hold the egg in his body until it is ready to hatch.”

  Azaes scowled; he had learned that in his studies last summer when he was eight. Zeus was much too young to know such stuff. He would have to say something to Meme after this Ariafella went away.

  They left the royal wing of the palace, six Basilisc paired up with them before they ventured into the busy common areas. Zeus was excited, practically running, clicking his tongue often and listening to what the vibrations told him about where people were.

  “Zeus!” a high, squeaky female voice called.

  Azaes could not tell who spoke, but Zeus changed directions and headed toward a tall, white-scaled youngling wearing a tunic and trousers that were embroider
ed with the ambassador’s emblem. He had seen the crest on the wall of his father’s main meeting hall. Her warm, red eyes watched Zeus closely and Azaes did not see anything other than joy in them. But he was scowling again when Zeus hugged her. He was never that familiar with anyone outside of family. Azaes did not like it.

  “Ariafella, these are my brothers, Azaes and Mestor. They wanted to come to midday meal with us.”

  He pulled his gaze from where Zeus had twined his fingers with Ariafella’s to see her narrowed-eyed stare and then her gaze moved to Mestor. “My father tells me that you two started a weird trend of pasting rat pelts to your head.”

  Mestor put a hand on his hip and smirked. “That was my idea. It was awesome.”

  Ariafella gave a squeaky laugh. “You will have to show me holo-vids.”

  “Darling,” called a tall bull with creamy brown scales. He too was wearing the crest of an ambassador. “The food is ready to be served. Hello again, Prince Zeus!”

  Zeus executed a formal bow, still holding Ariafella’s hand. “Afternoon, sir.”

  “And who do we have here?” The bull turned his attention to Azaes and Mestor.

  Azaes stood straighter under the weighted gaze.

  “Father, this is Prince Azaes and Prince Mestor,” Ariafella said before he could reply.

  “Look how you have grown! The last time I saw the two of you, you were each sporting a darling mop of black rat fur.”

  Azaes barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

  “I am Tymon Sagonas, Ambassador to the Proxima Heann Coalition.”

  Mestor perked up. “I know that place. The Ambassadors who made fun of Shaneva came from there.”

  Ambassador Tymon’s expression turned predatory. “Yes, those oafs paid dearly for that misstep. Now come, Empress Ashari is waiting for us.”

  Zeus and Ariafella made their way to the dining hall. Azaes followed, Mestor at his side. Ambassador Tymon brought up the rear.