‘Follow me where?’ Jardir asked.

‘Why, to Lakton,’ Abban smiled. ‘The fields in the chin lands to the east of Everam’s Bounty are still ripening.’

The Royal Consort waited in the cave as dawn approached. The dark was still enough to leave the surface stock blind, and the lesser drones could hunt for hours more, but to the coreling prince, used to the utter blackness of the mind court, the sky was brightening at an alarming rate.

He had waited purposely until the last moment to summon the others as the last night of Waning drew to a close. They would be forced to materialize outside the cave, weakening in the light as they approached. The consort had drawn powerful wardings around the cave and the fissure at its rear, focusing the magic venting from the Core and ensuring no other could Draw upon it.

Two of the six minds he had brought with him to the surface were dead – the most powerful, no less, but it was still wise to take every precaution when facing so many of his brethren so far from the Queen’s influence.

It was an advantage to be rid of two potential rivals, but not worth drawing the Queen’s displeasure this close to a laying. The other four minds seemed heroes by comparison, fighting on even as his plans failed, sapping the enemy’s strength. The experience and prestige they gained positioned them well to take the place of his lost rivals.

He Drew hard on the vent as the four approached, holding as much power as he could bear. He made no effort to mask the energy, letting the others see and fear it. His mimics surrounded him, but a simple forbiddance kept the rival mimics outside the cave.

The day star approaches, brother, one of the demons thought.

We should return to court and report to the Queen, another agreed.

The consort hissed. You will report first to me.

We have given you our reports, one of the princes sent to the North argued. He was older than the other, and stronger. His will had grown considerably since coming to the surface. He masked his aura well, but the consort could sense his tension.

At a thought, one of his mimics lashed out, wrapping a tentacle around the prince’s throat and hauling him in close. The consort did not change his stance, but he readied his power. If they were to strike in unison, it would be now.

But the others stood frozen. They might hate the consort even more than the day star, but they hated one another as well, and none would risk his own life without assurance of victory.

The consort caressed the knobbed skin of the prince’s cranium. You have given your reports, but have not told all. Did you think me a fool?

The young mind struggled, no match for the mimic’s strength. His cranium pulsed, attempting to seize control of the drone, but the consort’s will was second only to that of the Queen herself. The mimic tightened the tentacle around the prince’s throat, and his efforts to escape ceased.

What happened the night your brother died? the consort asked.

We captured the unifier, the prince admitted, drawing a hiss from his cohort. The princes sent south tensed at the words, craniums pulsing as they conversed.

Then why is your brother gone while the unifier continues to kill drones and draw humans to serve him? the consort demanded.

We walked his mind to learn of his power, the prince thought, but he escaped before we could bring him to you.

A second lie? the consort asked. The prince’s lidless eyes widened, but he had no time to protest before the mimic slashed a talon, opening his cranium wide. The consort reached inside, tearing bits of the prince’s mind, feeding as the others watched with horror and jealousy mingled in their auras.

As he fed, the memories and will of the prince transferred to him, and he learned in an instant everything they had taken from the unifier’s mind. The consort was nearly overwhelmed by the pleasure and power of it. He had feasted on the minds of his brethren numerous times over the millennia, and it never failed to leave him dizzy with strength. Outside, the prince’s mimic shrieked and began to lose cohesion.

The consort looked to the other prince that had shared in the deception. He stood frozen with fear, no doubt wondering if he would share his brother’s fate.

Go, the consort ordered, and the prince did not question his fortune, backing quickly out of the cave and fleeing to the Core, taking his mimic with him.

The other two princes stood motionless as the consort digested the memories of their brother. One licked his teeth, looking at the broken cranium.

The consort was shocked to learn that the unifier had stolen much of his power by consuming drones. He had not known it was possible for the surface stock to store Core magic in their bodies and learn to Draw. It seemed as impossible as a rock drone debating philosophy, but there was no denying it.

And now he knew, too, the answer to the question that had drawn them all to the surface in the first place. The fighting wards had been found buried in the sand to the south.

The Northern unifier has stolen a bit of our power, but I have his measure now, he thought to the others. There is nothing he can do we cannot. We must simply devise the right lure to draw him off his greatwards.

No mind would be so foolish, one of the princes thought.

This one has foolishness to spare, the consort assured him. He is not nearly as evolved as he thinks, and he has led us to the source of the uprising. He sent a mental image of the lost city of the last unifier.

We must go there on the next cycle and grind every last stone to powder, the consort thought. I will shit on the unifier’s corpse myself, for the trouble he caused us.

The other minds gave their agreement, and the consort met their eyes, letting them see him in the fullness of power.

Open your minds to me, he ordered. It was not something he would dare back in the mind court, but these princes knew well that they would never see the court again if they did not comply, and it was a better fate by far than having their minds consumed. As one, they lowered their defences, letting the consort sift their memories of the last three nights.

They had been in contact with their brother when the heir appeared, wearing the cursed crown and driving his vicious weapon into the prince’s chest.

The consort felt a chill of fear as he relived the memory. The Northerner was powerful, but his power was no more than the weakest of princelings. The heir had done what he feared most and unlocked the full power of the artefacts.

He had become the mind hunter, like the withered corpse out in the desert.

How many of the consort’s brethren and ancestors had fallen before that one? The Queen herself had not been alive then, but he was. He had been juvenile and weak, surviving more by luck than cunning, but he remembered well the terror that permeated the air of the mind court.

The consort dismissed the others with a nod, letting them flee the surface before gathering his mimics and riding the currents of the vent back to the Core.

The heir must be killed quickly, before he could set up a dynasty.

29

Eunuch
333 AR Autumn

‘I have taken the alagai princes’ measure,’ Ahmann said, ‘and found them wanting.’ He pointed to the foot of the dais. The curtains of his throne room had been pulled tight and the room lit by oil lamps that he might display the bulbous head of the demon prince, staked there. He had ordered Abban to commission masons to brick the windows permanently.

His counsellors had taken it in turn to stare into the huge bulbous black eyes of their enemy, each hiding his revulsion behind a forced scoff of derision. Abban could not blame them. The demon was not nearly so large or full of teeth and claws as many of its other brethren, but its otherworldly stare was unnerving. Its high conical head, vestigial horns, and almost gentle features were not those of a mindless killer. It was a thinker. A planner.