Dark Age (Red Rising Saga 5)

“Unique trait.”

“Sarcastic ripostes are seldom clever enough to prove that they are little more than the desperate cries for validation of a petty and insecure mind.”

“Oh, shut up, Father.”

“He did teach us half of what we know.”

“The cold, evil half.”

“Which has kept us alive amongst predators, my dear. Returning to my thrust—when has a Copper ever been a savior?” He chuckles to himself. “Now all you have to do is wrest the Silvers away from Quick, and victory shall be ours.”

“Stop talking in that tone. We already seem evil enough in this aquatic lair of yours. All that’s missing is you twirling a mustachio.”

He strokes the gold angels embedded on his bald head instead. “Speaking of facial hair…”

“Theodora has Sevro under control.”

“Does she?”

I sigh. “Daxo…”

“It is hardly pedantic to advise my Sovereign to utilize her best assets. Theodora has proven herself capable, but she is not me nor is she you. Nor is she any of the two hundred Peerless on Luna equipped for the task.”

He sighs and pets a passing gigavok through a water sphere, almost losing a finger for it. He smiles, not offended. He likes it when things obey their natures.

“I confess. I have always viewed Sevro as a marginal character in our great endeavor. He is ill-tempered, rash, and braggadocious in nature. I don’t know if he’s ever read a book. Let me loose, and I will subdue the illiterate halfman in short order.”

I pretend to consider it.

If one listed all the qualities a tyrant might possess, one might start by describing Daxo au Telemanus. He is cruel, thorough, calculating, cold, arrogant, and, though he does not lack empathy, he is fairly unconvinced of its logical merits. Just as he is entirely unconvinced of demokracy. But he is obsessively competitive. And he chose his team long ago.

More than any man I’ve ever met, Daxo was entirely content being a lonely child. Thank Jove Kavax told me to memorize Paradise Lost before I met his firstborn. We might have lost the war if he found me wanting.

“A thought’s just occurred to me,” I say. “Did you model yourself after Milton’s depiction of Lucifer?”

“Finally.” A slow, immense smile spreads across his lips; he is as pleased as a lizard on a hot rock. “To be weak is miserable, doing or suffering.”

“Jove on high,” I say. “It took me twenty-seven years to get that.”

“You are my only friend to guess.”

“Daxo, you only keep one friend.”

“At a time. You lasted longer than the rest. There are more private secrets to uncover. Hiding in plain sight.”

“The gigavok are metaphors for your virility, and your fear that if you had children, they would eat each other.”

“Fuck.”

He glares at me.

I lean back. “You see, communication is our salvation. So…no, you don’t get to play with Sevro. Exponential oddity is a perilous game.”

“Very well.” He sighs his colossal body from his couch and offers me a hand. The waters part as he escorts me to the gravity well. We look up at the light of the politico chamber. “Are you certain we can’t dissolve the Senate?” he asks. “It would just be so much simpler to feed them to my metaphors.”

“No.”

“Worth a try.”