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Sevro gives him the crux. Quick shoots me a look of concern. “Right. Well. You’ve had a hard run, lad. A hard run. Act as you like. You’re entitled to it.”
“Why don’t you show me your new world then, old friend?” I ask. ”Help me to understand.”
Yet it is difficult not to let my wonder at the garden and Quicksilver’s ship decay into the sulky anger of a spurned lover who has been traded in for a younger model.
“Did it spring from doubt or hope?”
“Since this will be the last time we see one another, I feel an urge to be understood.
They found us in bed, and our children in their beds. They wrapped them in the sheets, hung them from the ceiling, and beat them until no more blood would come out. I sat in that rain…that red rain…and I understood there is no such thing as proper authority. Violence is the only authority. They said one of us could live. My partner refused to choose. I chose me.”
“That’s what progress does, you see. It leaps ahead of the past, but we can never outrun the trauma that fixed our course.
He wanted me to see him. Not to understand him, but to forgive him for running away. And though I’m angry, I truly do.
“This is the path that is available to me. Your father left it for you. But we’re brothers, so in a way it’s my inheritance too.”
For a horrifying second, I realize what it must be like to be him. The man cursed to use the weapons of the enemy to liberate people like me.
All the anger I’ve had for him over the years dissolves in the reality of his existence. I wouldn’t want to be in an Iron Rain. I wouldn’t want to fight a Peerless Scarred. And he’s fought them all.
In those fantastical stories, my brothers and sister always imagined we’d be their plucky lancers as Darrow and Sevro swept us away on their adventures, draping wolfcloaks around our shoulders when they realized what big hearts we had in our small bodies.
Maybe for a moment he thought someone didn’t know of his infamy. Maybe for a moment he thought he got to make his own first impression.
They seem to take a measure of comfort in their relative insignificance, or perhaps it is the pride in knowing they are an essential part in an effort so massive. The Core could learn from them.
“If Rim and Core are to be friends once more, moments like these will matter. I want the crew to see you there.
They make the brave choice. The stupid choice. They choose to stay to fight and die with honor.
I’m mad at myself for mistaking this man’s patriotism for loyalty. That means Kyber isn’t in his circle. Shot by a sniper, maybe, but not one from the Republic. He didn’t want her coming on this trip.
The disgust I feel toward his methods and his action are dwarfed by the absolute awe I have for his capacity and his brutality.
“Your mother will be in Sungrave,” I say. “Gaia.” “Yes, she will be,” Atlas confirms. “Along with my sister, my nieces, and my nephews. And tonight as we sleep, or maybe tomorrow as we eat breakfast, the Ascomanni will enter through our family tunnels and Fá will breach the main gate. After that…well, you’re a student of history. You know what happens to cities that resist, and Sungrave has resisted the Society for hundreds of years. Its death will therefore be proportionate.”
“You made a messiah. An Obsidian Darrow.”
I lean back, stunned. Twelve years! The whole time Atalantia, her father, and Darrow have been trading planets and ships in the Core, Atlas has been working on this project. “It was you. The helm cam footage the Ophion Guild sold to Dido. Proof that Darrow and Victra destroyed the docks…You pushed the Rim into war.”
Division is a cancer, Lysander, and I am excising the affected tissue.
“Then you are an idiot. Worse, you are selfish. These deaths cannot be reversed. They are a sunk cost. It would be a logical fallacy to let them influence your decision.
Besides, you are too fixated on Darrow, boy. Darrow cannot win. Darrow is beaten. His only power lies in the mystery of his absence. He has no tools left to resuscitate his cause. No allies to call upon.
I have brought darkness to the worlds in its fullest extreme so you can bring the light.”
Atlas offers me everything I have worked for and fought for, not to mention the chance to stop the deaths of hundreds of millions, but the price is my soul.
Couldn’t handle your brother dying in the Passage, even though those were the rules you people made. Had to pout. So big, so small. Needy little Bellona. Sad, lonely Cassius. You’re hollow, man. Can’t even stand straight without a woman inflating your spine.”