Golden Son (Red Rising Trilogy, #2)(131)

“What was her name?”

“Her name? Why does it matter?” he asks warily.

“Because I want to remember her.”

“Bryn,” Sevro says from above. “My mother’s name was Bryn. She was twenty-four when they killed her.”

“Bryn,” I repeat the word and see Fitcher rock slightly on his feet. A shortness of breath.

“So you’re half Red,” I say to Sevro.

Sevro nods. “Found out couple days ago. Weird as shit, righto?”

“Weird as shit. You’ll make a good Ruster.”

“I like to think I’m an endangered species.”

Dancer rolls a match through his fingers. “We all are.”

“You knew about Titus,” I say to Fitchner.

“But Dancer didn’t. Don’t blame him for that. I thought you’d be brothers at the Institute. A natural affection for your own race. But he went dark, and there was no way to reel him in. I met with him—jammer, ghostCloak—like I met with you. But his mind broke under the strain. I didn’t want to see you break.”

“I did break.” I look over at Sevro, Dancer. “I just had friends to piece me back together. Why didn’t you tell Titus and me about each other?”

“Then his mistakes would have been yours and yours would have been his. In a storm, you don’t tie two boats together. They’ll drag each other down.” He clears his throat.

“I always knew a Gold couldn’t lead this rebellion. It has to be from the bottom up, boyo. Red is about family. More than any other Color, it is about love amidst all the horror of our world. If Red rises, they have a chance to bind the worlds together. MidColors won’t. Pinks, Browns, can’t. Obsidians have failed before. And if they succeeded alone, they’d break the worlds instead of freeing them.

“So what’s the plan?” I ask. “I squabbed up your position next to the Sovereign.”

“You’re hard to manipulate, Darrow, so I’ll just cut to it. Augustus is going to adopt you. You’re not surprised …”

“It would make sense. He wants to tie my fate to his family. Probably make me marry Mustang. It’ll fracture my alliance with the Jackal if I become an heir, though.”

“Does the Jackal care about that?” Sevro asks. “Seems like he’s abandoned hope of ever gaining approval. Bloody bastard’s building his own empire.”

“I’ll have to see,” I say.

Fitchner continues. “Dispose of the Jackal or make him part of the plan, it doesn’t matter. Augustus will adopt you as his heir. And he will use you as a Praetor in his armada. And if you defeat the Sovereign, he won’t settle for being King of Mars. He’ll want to be Sovereign himself. Help him be. And a year into his reign, Sevro will kill him and pin it on a rival, maybe the Jackal …”

My turn to rock on my feet.

“You want me to inherit the empire,” I guess. “The entire Society.”

I gawk at him. At Dancer. How can they look so serious?

“Yes,” Fitchner says. “After he dies, all will look to the strongest. Be the strongest. Win the game of succession and you can be Sovereign just as you were Primus. Just as you are Praetor. It’s all games. Except this time we’re helping you cheat. We will feed you information, guard you against assassination attempts. With me on your side, you will have a spy network even the Jackal and Sovereign cannot rival. We will bribe who we need to bribe and kill who we need to kill.”

I sit reflectively looking at my hands. “I thought the lies were nearly over. I want to declare what I am. I want to declare war.”

“We can’t yet. You know that.”

I do, but I don’t want to leave these people. “I won’t be in the dark again. We will communicate. We will plan. No more gray areas. Do you understand? I can’t be alone like before.”

“Say yes, Fitchner,” Sevro says. “Or I’m not going either.”

“We’ll communicate every day, if you need. I can’t come with. There’s a ghost war being fought that I have to manage. But in my stead, I’ll send some of my best agents. You’ll have a cabal you can trust. Spies. Assassins. Courtesans. Hackers. All with perfect covers. All willing to die to break the chains. You are no longer alone.”

Relief fills me. But there’s something I know I can’t do. “I have to go back.”

“Yes. They’ll be wondering where you are,” Fitchner agrees.

“No.” I say. “I have to go home.”

“Home?” Dancer asks. “To Lykos?”

“Why?” Fitchner asks. “What’s left for you there?”

“My family. It’s been four years. I need to see them.” I look each man in the eyes, each so scarred and so wounded in his own way. “You have to understand that. Things are about to break apart in ways we can’t predict. We pretend we know what we’re doing, pushing these Golds to war. Planning our own. Like we can control it, but we can’t. We’re just mortals opening Pandora’s box. And before everything turns upside down, I need to remember what I’m fighting for. I need to know it’s worth it.”

“You want their blessing,” Dancer says. “Her blessing.” He knows my heart better than Fitchner. If I’m to let Augustus adopt me, then I must go home first.