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be okay, that they would save her people, find a way to kill the Old One while protecting the Tangata she controlled?

It was impossible. Maya was too powerful, too dangerous. Even if they could reach her, somehow sneak past her armies and Tangatan guards and confront the creature, not one of them had the strength to face her. Cara was the only being he had seen match blows with the Old Ones, and she had vanished with the Erika in the Mountains of the Gods. They may never see her kind again.

Their only hope was to use overwhelming force, to defeat the Old One with sheer weight of numbers. That meant an army, one that must first face the Tangata she controlled.

There was no other choice but war.

So Lukys held Sophia tight and waited for her grief to pass. And as they stood together, his eyes drifted to the fleet of ships upon the harbour, the hundreds flying the colours of Perfugia and Gemaho, more even than they had soldiers to field. Some would remain in Perfugia, they had already decided, to protect the kingdom should their campaign fail. As for the rest…

…the rest would bring fire and sword to the mainland.

And death to Sophia’s people.

“I want to live, Lukys,” Sophia rasped, lifting her head from his shoulder. Her eyes met his. “I want to laugh and love and grow new life.”

Lukys swallowed. There was such longing in her voice, in her eyes…leaning down, he kissed her, his lips hard against hers, pulling her tight against him, holding her desperately, as though at any moment she might be lost to him. When they finally broke apart, he was panting. A fiery desire burned in his chest, to lift his partner into his arms and carry her to their chambers, to grant her everything she desired.

Instead, he gently brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “You will have it all,” he whispered. “I promise.”

A tear spilt from her eye as she watched him, streaking her cheek. Her lip quivered and when she spoke again, her voice was so soft he barely heard her words. “At what cost, Lukys?”

Lukys shivered, but reaching down, he entwined his fingers through hers, then leaning in, he kissed the hot tears from her cheeks. “Don’t cry,” he whispered. Drawing their hands up between them, he held her tight. “We will find a way, Sophia.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Has he ever lied to us?

Lukys looked around as two figures stepped from the shadows. It was still strange to see Keria and Isabella, Sophia’s sister Tangata, garbed in armour and equipped with the silver spears of their new position, but their support was welcome. He nodded his thanks as they approached, laying their hands on Sophia’s shoulders as she stepped away from him.

A wry smile crossed Sophia’s lips as she looked to them. Are you ganging up on me, sisters?

Laughter whispered in Lukys’s mind before Keria, who had chosen Dale as her partner, turned to him.

No, sister, we stand with our family. We expect our strange brother here to do the same.

Lukys inclined his head at the respect they’d shown him, naming him as family. He and the other Perfugians who had returned from the south felt the same. After all, it had been their fellow Perfugians who had condemned them to a cruel death on the frontlines. Whereas Sophia and the Tangata…they had welcome the Perfugian recruits into their homes, into their lives. It was a kindness none of them would forget.

Yet, Lukys found himself haunted by Nguyen’s words, by the king’s insistence they would have to choose, that the lives of his people must come first.

But were the Tangata not his people too, even those they had left behind in New Nihelm? After all, the Perfugians shared common ancestors with Sophia and Keria and the others. There must be a way he could protect both, however impossible it might seem.

Clenching his jaw, Lukys nodded in answer to Keria’s words. “We will find a way to free your people,” he said softly. “We must, or we do not stand a chance.”

He could already hear Nguyen’s objections, but the king was wrong. Whether he liked it or not, the fact remained that even united, the forces of humanity could not stand against all the Tangata.

It will not be easy, Isabella said. You have felt the power of Adonis’s Voice—he is only of the third generation. Maya is infinitely more powerful, strong enough to hold captive the will of our people, even over some distance.

Lukys turned to Sophia. “Ay, but we are no longer just Tangata, or human,” he said quietly.

As he spoke, he reached with his mind for hers, felt their consciousnesses reunited, the surging, burning force of their collective of minds, the power of a hundred Sovereigns long passed, all the way back to the ancient rule of the Old Ones. Those voices cried out in unison against the rise of Maya, at the threat to their people and Tangata both.

Lukys’s mind thrummed with the power of their Voices, the harmony he felt with Sophia. Could they use this strength, these past minds and memories against Maya? Surely there must be a secret, some power, some weakness of the Old Ones they could exploit.

Finally they looked back at their friends, and smiled.

We are Sovereigns now. They said in unison. We will find a way.

7

The Tangata

Adonis paced among the silent trees, ice crunching beneath his boots, ears still pounding with rage—even a day after the human’s insults. Even now, he longed to find her and tear out the creature’s throat for her impudence…

…instead, he shuddered, recalling against his will the Tangata who had guarded the old Matriarch, who had turned on her to join Maya’s side. They had perished assaulting the city of the Anahera, but they had been of the third generation too. The Old One had spent long hours with them during the journey into the mountains, when Adonis had lingered

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