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he was coming for her. To kill her for what he knew she had done.

She had killed the queen he had been sworn to protect.

He should have understood back then, as he surely did now, that everything she had done had been for him. And it still was: she would take her own life, rather than have him live with the knowledge that he had killed his wife.

She felt herself slip away. His heartbeat became hers. She was dimly aware of him lowering her onto the bed, lying down beside her and holding her.

She thought she heard him whispering to her. That he loved her. That he always had. And that he always would. No matter what.

But she could barely hear him.

All she could hear was his heartbeat.

Until her own heart stopped beating.

i

Dunkat landed his shuttle near a cave. His father’s soul lingered at the entryway, a shadow of what he had once been. Dunkat opened the door without hesitation and stepped out, following the soul into the cave.

Rocks crunched under his boots. The glow from his father’s spirit was enough to light his way, as long as he kept his pace brisk.

He was not surprised that his father, or at least a piece of him, had survived. He had always been strong, and stubborn. Dunkat had modelled his own behaviour after him, admiring his quick and steep climb into politics. And his luck: when Mirial was uncovered, as it was once every twenty to thirty years, his father had happened to be leading a survey mission of the area.

It would have led to great heights, had it not all gone so foul. Now, Dunkat could barely convince the council that Mirial existed at all, much less that it posed a threat.

The air in the cave was growing a bit thin, but despite being middle-aged, Dunkat kept himself in superb form and his body maintained its strength.

A faint glow could be seen approaching his father. Dunkat’s gut turned. What if it was his mother? He would be surprised if she had lived, being a weak creature, and he wondered how he would react if he saw her again. He had loved his mother, but had hated her at the same time. It was she, he was certain, who had created his father’s weakness — his love of art.

Dunkat was certain his father had accepted Mirialers so easily because he shared their passion. Everything on Mirial had been finely manicured, from her ships to her gardens, all meticulously tended to and cared for. Had he been more suspicious and not lingered on the planet, even bringing his family to take in the sights…Dunkat stopped his thoughts from heading too far in that direction. What was done was done, and who knew what kind of man Dunkat would have been, had he not had to fight for his survival these last twenty years.

The tunnel ended abruptly in a cavern with an odd yellow glow bouncing off the walls, although Dunkat could not see any source for the light. A small pond, three metres across at most, rested in the bed of the cave, shimmering with yellow highlights and some hints of greens that Dunkat assumed to be algae.

His father’s soul came to rest above the pond, the light of the cavern giving him a sickly yellow look.

“Dunkat,” his father said, his mouth moving just a bit after the syllables reached his ears. Dunkat concentrated on his eyes. They were as stern and hard as he remembered they had always been...except when he had been looking at a fine piece of art, of course.

“Mirial must not be allowed to revive,” his father said, and Dunkat bit back his reply — I told you that twenty years ago, when you were still flesh and blood! His father had been a terrible enough foe when he lived. Now that he was some form of wraith, Dunkat dared not make an enemy of him.

“I can give you the means to stop Mirial’s rebirth.”

Dunkat braced himself for the words that he knew would follow.

“It will require the use of ether.” Of course. Dunkat felt himself flush, his anger boiling high in his throat. Ether was the source of all their problems.

“There must be another way,” Dunkat spat out. He felt like a teenager again, about to be scolded by his father. But the anger did not come.

“I have looked. It is the only way. If you stop Mirial, all of us will be allowed to rest and we will no longer need to worry about the terrible threat of ether.”

Dunkat clenched his fists. His father had looked, and his father would have been meticulous. Dunkat wanted to ask about mother, but feared that might draw his father’s wrath. He wondered if she lingered in some form, waiting to be reunited with her family, alone and afraid. He wondered how hard his father had looked for her, and he imagined the night wind carrying his cries of anguish when he could not find her.

“How do I stop it?” he muttered, then braced his feet and spoke again. “How do I stop Mirial?”

His father seemed to smile for a moment. It sent a shiver down Dunkat’s spine.

“You must kill the heirs. Two little girls, both on this planet, both heading to the same place. We can do it together, Dunkat.” The shade hissed, and its voice grew smooth again. “My powers in death can take form in your living body. I cannot approach them, but in you, we both can. If we join, an army will follow you, and the opportunity to win is ours.”

Dunkat nodded and walked towards the shade, trusting as he always had that his father would not lead him to his doom.

CHAPTER 34

Bridge. Temple. Hurry!

Yoma?

“It’ll be okay, just hold on to me, Layela.”

Yoma?!

“It’ll be okay.”

Blood!

Layela woke up with a jerk, the sound of her own deep breath greeting her return to the world of the waking. She

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