“Yes,” the AI said. “Do you?”

  She saw the slight tension in Allya’s shoulders.

  They both knew she wouldn’t walk out of this room alive if she gave the wrong answer.

  They both knew lying wouldn’t work either.

  And yet she’d still asked that question. Because it was the right thing to do. Not for herself, but for others.

  Gods. Arcadia would have made you president of the Federation. Of Terra. People like you are how we build a brighter future.

  All I can do is take out the darkness. I can’t make new light.

  “I will follow you. But I really, truly hope you know what you are doing. Because if you fail, we will all burn.”

  Pray that we won’t burn because I succeed, my friend.

  “I don’t plan to fail.”

  “Good.” Allya looked up at the runes. “Will you make this public?”

  “Not yet. But we will have to, eventually.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the Order will. We need to preempt that. Do it on our terms. So far, they’ve been fanning the flames, trying to keep the war going. My guess is, they’ll release this when the UDC is about ready to negotiate. Once they do, all hell is going to break loose. Can you imagine what will happen once people know that they were trying to effectively make people into dungeon monsters? Any hope of even negotiating with the UDC will evaporate. Period.”

  Allya slowly nodded.

  “I can see that. I assume I shall prepare the ground?”

  “To some extent. But this will be on our end. Dungeons.”

  “Ah. You and your posse of advisors.”

  “Not just them.” Alexandra looked at the holographic runes. “If we want to find a way to do this without being dragged into a war of eradication, we need someone on the other side. Make it seem like it was a rogue element being rooted out. Then yell it from every rooftop, supporting them.” She met Allya’s gaze. “I’m going to need Glarvistar.”

  They’d talked about the dungeon core, of course. Or rather, Alexandra had vented about him at length.

  He was a convenient scapegoat to blame every time the UDC did something clever.

  “...I’d wish you good luck, but you were pretty clear on the fact that you make your own.”

  “Honestly? At this point, I’d take it.”

  “Yikes. Dire.”

  “And then some. I can only make so much luck, and there’s a lot of places to spread it around.”

  “Right. Well, I suppose I should return to the surface. Try to avoid some extra expenditures of that luck by keeping things together on my end.”

  “Of course.” Alexandra watched as Allya moved to leave, and spoke up as she put one foot through the threshold. “When did you guess?”

  She didn’t need to specify what. They both knew it was about the Church.

  “The second I laid eyes on this place, Alex. This whole ‘core fortress’ of yours isn’t here to stop Sunrise, or any mortals. You built this stronghold to stop a Custodian. A word of advice? They won’t bother showing up to kill you.”

  Alexandra smiled.

  “I know. I don’t intend to let them.”

  She saw a flash of surprise and almost terror in Allya’s eyes.

  She had point-blank admitted she was aiming to destroy the Citadel.

  But...well, if she intended to survive fighting the Church, there was no other choice.

  “...I see.”

  And with that, Allya left.

  Alexandra watched her go, and turned towards Ghost.

  “Stand them down.”

  “But—”

  “Stand. Them. Down.” She took a step forward towards her other self, and Ghost seemed to positively shrink before her. “She had guessed the answer before she even asked the question. Long before. She did not betray us then. She won’t now.”

  Just like when she had guessed “Crystal” was not who she claimed to be.

  There was no physical response from Ghost.

  But through her network, she felt the kill teams stand down.

  Just because she had given up on the false flag Order attack on the advisors didn’t mean she had to throw away the hardware, or the troops made for it.

  And you never knew when you would need some plausibly deniable, high-profile assassins.

  Alexandra turned away from the apparition and leaned against the console. She couldn’t suffer from an adrenaline crash, but her system could simulate one pretty accurately.

  “...She’s my friend too, you know,” Ghost said.

  “I know.”

  “Do we tell her everything?”

  “No. Not just yet. But we can start bringing her in. Layer by layer.”

  They could leave who she truly was for last.

  There were shocks, and then there were shocks.

  Like finding out that your revered, mythological ancestor’s boss, who had murdered a whole world, was standing before you. Had been there the whole time.

  And that she had access to, and was actively manufacturing, the same nuclear weapons she had used to burn a whole world to cinders.

  There was a short silence. Then, the ping of a notification.

  “The drones’ final checks are finished. We can launch whenever you wish.”

  “About damned time.” Alexandra gestured, and the hologram changed, now showing Rebirth and the surrounding lands. For some definition of “lands.” Not quite wasteland anymore, but not truly inhabitable either. On it were overlaid the filed paths of the various guild expeditions Glitch had found. “Let’s get to work.”

  “I hope someone here has some answers for this,” said Maes-Khan Trivor, Archmage of the Astral and Foreign Minister of the Sapphire Kingdom, as he stormed into the council room and threw a pile of papers down on the table.

  “And those are, my dear colleague?” said Ulvi, Archmage of Life and Interior Minister, truth be told, Prime Minister in all but name, of the same nation. The archmage, somehow managing to look respectable and matronly while simultaneously having the appearance of a twenty-year-old, raised a delicate eyebrow.

  “Dispatches and communications from various nations.”

  “Handling them is why you get paid six figures every month, darling.”

  “It includes six declarations of war.”

  He could hear the untimely bowel movements this declaration provoked in his colleagues, though many of them didn’t show it, their faces immobile, as if sculpted from marble.

  He could well understand it. He’d felt the same.

  Of course, he knew there were some overtures in there as well. But he wasn’t going to bring them up to the full council.

  “...From whom?” Ulvi finally said, dropping the nicknames.

  “The Aurorean Empire.” Ulvi started to scoff, and he continued on, cutting her off. “Alongside all of their vassals. So, the Empire itself, the Asarian Kingdom, the New Republic, the Autonomous Province of Eternity, and the Tark Hegemony.”

  He saw Ulvi swallow. That was, bar the Far Reach and Gorromar, the entire continent.

  Technically, minus the old Republic and its senate, but no one counted on them surviving for long after the Hegemon’s little speech and the recent news of Pavrow’s surrender.

  “And the last remaining declaration?”

  “The city-state of New Raleigh.”

  There was a long, very long silence after that.

  Ulvi might scoff at the new Empire however much she liked, as a pathetic shadow of what their Kingdom once was, but she could not deny its power.

  And no one alive could deny New Raleigh’s. It was becoming obscenely clear that Rook, or someone close to him and his interests, had changed magic.

  What could they possibly hope to do against that?

  “Well...it appears that Crystal and her pet Empress have fabricated a casus belli at last,” Ulvi said.

  “Did they?”

  Everyone turned towards Jaika. Archmage of Alchemy, and Minister of Trade, she was still obsessively scratching on her notebooks. But this time she’d brought files.

  A lot of files.

  “What do you mean?” Maes asked, carefully.

  “Was it fabricated?” Files were pulled out of the pile, one by one. “I have reviewed the information being shared abroad. Each of the mages quoted worked for us. All of them were unaccounted for in the indicated period. There were sightings in Sunrise. Then their discovery with sizeable funds. And they were excellent enchanters. We have mages, who could have made those brands, under our employ, who ended up in a place where their heads should have been chopped off, and instead left covered in gold.”

  There was a pause, and Vindal, Archmage of Evocation and Minister of War, roused himself.

  “I can already tell you that none of my departments commissioned any brands, especially not the clone units. We have our way of dealing with insubordination.” He looked to the opposite side of the table. “Paligan? Do you have something to add? This is your specialty.”

  Paligan, Archmage of Enchantment and Minister of Education, colored as he sputtered.

  “I-The mere thought! Who do you take me for? I would never have condoned this, let alone sponsored it!”

  “Peace, my friend, peace. He only meant if it was possible,” Maes said conciliatorily. And also completely lying. Vindal had been, in his usual forthright fashion, suggesting exactly what the Archmage of Enchantment had inferred.

  Thankfully, Vindal wasn’t a fool, and he leapt onto the proffered olive branch, nodding along.

  Paligan still looked suspicious, but he leaned forward.

  “I’m not saying that it is impossible, but I have studied these brands. Extensively. Breaking them and freeing our people was a major line item, before...the event.” He cleared his throat. They had all been stunned by Rook’s ritual, but he more than most. His entire understanding of magic and how it worked had collapsed; entire sections of enchantment magic just removed from existence. “They are extremely complex. It was my thoughts, alongside...others, that they were not so much newly created as they had been adapted.”

  “You mean they already existed?” Ulvi asked.

  “Precisely. For something vastly different. The ephemeral lifespan of the brands seemed a consequence of that, rather than a purpose-built failsafe.”

  “I doubt the duchess would have tolerated the latter.” Paligan shot a baleful look at Vindal as the Archmage of Evocation spoke, but softened a bit as he saw that his fellow was all business.

  “That’s...a bit beyond my own remit.” Paligan took off his glasses and wiped them. A nervous tick he’d never lost, despite his eyesight having been restored to full capacity by magic centuries ago. The glasses were heavily enchanted, however. He probably could see through walls with them. “But I don’t imagine she lacked the mages to look them over. She had Falmagar, after all.”

  “A traitor bloodline,” Vindal intervened.

  “Traitor or not, they’ve proven adept at keeping their own understanding and mastery of the art alive and well,” Ulvi said, shooting a glance at Maes.

  The diplomat didn’t rise to the bait, of course. Falmagar, and the Dukes of Lorenz in general, were renegade archmages who had sided with the rebellion during the Wars of Shattering. And like him, they were mages of the Astral.

  In fact, for centuries, they had said they were the true archmages of the Astral, and his own seat at the council was that of a usurper.

  “Indeed,” Paligan continued, oblivious to the tension. Damned scholar, always disconnected from the realities of the world. “So I don’t believe we have made it. We could have. Probably. But had someone cracked this particular code, they, ah...” He licked his lips.

  “Would have come for your seat at the table like a hound chasing after a bone?” Vindal offered, and Paligan colored even more.

  “Yes. Quite.”

  “The real question,” Maes said, “is what the hell do we do?”

  “That’s simple.” Ulvi smiled. “We go to the UDC.”

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Red Sands Desert, Aurorean Empire

  Capital City of Rebirth

  Allya smiled as Elkaryos stepped into her office.

  “Welcome back. Is this summit proving to be every bit as...interesting as you’d expected?”

  The dark elf smiled hesitatingly.

  “In a manner of speaking, Your Imperial Majesty.” He flicked his glance at her clothing, including the medallion resting on her collarbone. An almost perfect copy of his. “Will you...”

  “Be wearing the merchants guild’s insignia in public? No, probably not. And certainly not for the coronation.” That was still being organized, but she had already picked her outfit, with Alexandra’s surprisingly enthusiastic help, it should be noted. Turns out, sometimes, she did like to design stuff. “But I am not going to hide it either.”

  “Of course.”

  She looked at him, then gestured at the seat in front of her desk, and he took the hint, sitting down.

  “So. I’m going to be a bit blunt. We have a few subjects I need to discuss with you. All of them are critical, in their own way. The first one, which I’m sure you saw coming, is financial.”

  Elkaryos’ smile became less hesitant.

  “We are master merchants; everything we do is supposed to be financial. But I am guessing this is about my shares.”

  It felt like a lifetime ago when they had negotiated the terms for the corporate dominion that had allowed her to buy Rebirth. Forty-five percent of the financing, and ownership, had gone to Elkaryos, with options for her and Pyn to buy it back share by share...until he retained just fifteen percent ownership, which had been done remarkably quickly.

  She had never, however, challenged his remaining fifteen percent. She could have when her barony became a frontier principality, and probably should have when she founded the archduchy.

  Now, though...

  “Yes. Having the capital of an Empire under partial corporate ownership is... problematic. It is no longer just a question of money, loyalty, and authority, but also one of Imperial prestige.” Not to mention an internal security issue. The fact that the guild was moving against her and Alexandra had been no surprise, but there was no telling how deep their connections ran. “Thus, I would like to buy your last shares, at a considerable markup.”

  “I had guessed something like that was coming.” He smiled. “Even at my...diminished ownership, Rebirth was by far my most profitable venture.” Actually, according to her intelligence, it was starting to verge on being the majority of his income in mana, and not more esoteric forms of wealth like securities, debt, or whatever the hell “CDOs” were. Gods, she hated financial chicanery. “Still, I will freely admit it does rankle a bit.”

  The fact that he even admitted such was a testament to how fundamental he had been to Rebirth’s creation and how close he was to Allya herself. Others would have kept their mouths shut, nodded, and said, “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty, right away.”

  “Oh I know. Which is why I have both a reward and a thankless task for you.”

  The dark elf tilted his head.

  “Truly? How so?”

  Allya smiled.

  “Melia has been of considerable help, but she is too busy to manage everything now.” A massive understatement if there ever was one. She had to hire a small army of people to keep the poor woman from working herself to death, and it still wasn’t enough. Just like even with Camille filtering her paperwork, she still had so much landing on her damned desk every day. “That means that her portfolio must be split. She will inherit the economy, and you...” She slid a paper to him, and his eyes went wide as he read it.

  He looked up abruptly, meeting her gaze.

  “You’re making me Minister of Trade?!?”

  “Yes. I need to constitute a ministerial cabinet, and quickly. You fit the bill.”

  “Your Imperial Majesty, the conflicts of interest⁠—”

  “Would be considerable for any candidate.” If there was one thing she’d learned as an assassin, then as she ran Rebirth, it was that no one was truly uninvolved in what they believed in and were good at. And if they weren’t involved, it meant they were neither competent nor a true believer. And Elkaryos was both excellent at commerce and a believer in free trade, which was exactly what she needed when her entire Empire still hinged on her control of the trade route running down the center of the continent, linking both halves of her domain together. “And I trusted you to hold fifteen percent of my domain, Elkaryos. That is more than I can say for almost anyone, let alone those qualified for the post. So take the damn nomination. Build me a ministry that’ll last a thousand years, and I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities for your businesses and contacts without having to betray my confidence.”

  Elkaryos looked down at the paper again and took a deep breath, nodding.

  “I accept.”

  “Good.” Allya searched her drawers and pulled out an amulet, handing it over. “Here.”

  Elkaryos smiled as he hefted the piece of jewelry. It bore the heraldry of the Empire, which was a modified one of House Nouvelle-Aurore. A four-pointed star, rising behind a planet. The difference was the gems. The leftmost point of the star held a sapphire, the rightmost a topaz, and the top a blood red ruby. And at the center of them all, an emerald.

  The New Republic, the Asarian Kingdom, the Tark Hegemony, and at the core, Rebirth. Each gem the color of one of the founding nations of the Empire.

  Or...was it? Perhaps the ruby meant something else...

  Or someone else. Standing above all the others, even the heart of the Empire itself.

  The thought was driven out of his mind before he could dive deeper, as he felt the thrum of power within the amulet.

  “It is not just a symbol of office to add to your collection,” Allya said. “It is also an emergency escape. Crush this medallion, or speak a certain series of keywords, in sequence or just in a sentence within thirty seconds of each other, and you will be teleported to safety.”