Rebel Born (Secondborn #3)(67)

“I loved you when no one else was worried about you.”

“You don’t love me.”

“I do.”

I’m unnerved by the bend this conversation is taking. I don’t know what his play is here. What does he really want from me? “Is it because you thought I might be her?”

“Who?”

“Roselle—the goddess you knew.”

“No,” he replies with a half laugh, half frown. “She’s long dead. I thought you might be like her physically, not the real her.”

“Cherno thinks I am her.”

“Cherno has been in a tar pit for centuries.”

“Did you love her?”

“Not like you think. I respected her.”

“Were you lovers?”

“Uh, no.” He gives me a dubious look. “Everyone speculated that we were. She was probably the most beautiful woman I’d ever met—cunning and brave—but I was smarter than to get involved with her in that way. She wasn’t like you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She was . . . fierce. Ruthless when it came to her enemies, even more so when it came to matters of the heart. She demanded blind loyalty, even if she wasn’t willing to return it. If you loved her, she swallowed you up. She was the exact opposite of you.”

“You don’t know what I’m like now.”

“I know exactly what you’re like.”

“No, you don’t. I killed the person I thought I loved most in the world, and I was awake when I did it—not manipulated by an AI. I’m not the same person you knew. I have only one objective now, and that’s to find a way to annihilate Crow. I’ll destroy anything that gets in my way, including you. Don’t love me. I don’t have a future. I only have a purpose.”

“You’re my purpose, Roselle St. Sismode—from now until eternity.”

Lights flashing in the window to my side distract me from Clifton’s stern expression. I glance out at the sea.

“What is that?” I ask.

“That’s my other vessel—my home in the sea. I’m bringing Ransom here for you to meet with him.”

Clifton’s other vessel is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s a round, floating fortress—a black sphere dotted with lights. I feel as if I’m a modern astronomer discovering a new world. Surrounded by dark water, the underwater ship reminds me more of a space station than something on our own planet. A port beneath the equator of the fortress slides opens. Our small, torpedolike craft travels toward the cavernous hatch in the belly of the sea station.

“What do you think of my boat?” Clifton asks, his cheek inches from mine as we stare out the window.

“That isn’t a boat, Clifton. It’s a planet in the sea.” Other orbs connect to each other by segmented walkways that undulate in the ocean currents. The interconnected fortresses don’t seem to be moving, just hovering above the seafloor.

“It’s kind of a boat—each sphere can move autonomously . . . so boats.”

We enter a huge hangar. Inside, it’s a colossal warehouse of seawater.

“Not a boat,” I say. Our tiny vessel latches on to a dock within. The hatch closes. Water sucks into pipes while air pumps into the hangar.

“They’re underwater habitats. They can go places, but we mostly float around in the same area. I built this first sphere because I needed privacy for classified projects. There was little of that when operating in any of the Fates—and, after what happened to my world, I felt the need to build something with preservation in mind. We have seven spheres in total, each owned by private investors—many of whom you’ve met already from our interactions with the birds.” By “birds,” Clifton is referring to the clientele who used to purchase weapons from us.

“Does Valdi Kingfisher own one?” The kingpin’s real name is Firstborn Valdi Shelling, but the scar-faced man was first introduced to me by his bird name. He owns the Sword social club in Virtues.

Clifton chuckles. “He was my first partner in the venture.”

“Is Valdi a god?”

“Barely. He possesses immortality, but little else. His money and influence are his only powers now, whereas once, he was the strongest being I knew in terms of raw, physical prowess.” He gives me a side-eyed glance. “Would you like a tour of my sphere?”

“I would,” I reply, my curiosity piqued more than a little. Clifton’s always full of surprises.

We meet Cherno and Reykin in the control room and disembark the elegant commuter ship together. We walk across a large docking room adorned with drainage pipes, hatches that lead to metal hallways, and warehouse spaces that are larger than the ones in the Trees of the Stone Forest Base. We emerge from one hatch and out into a bright, sunlit street. The door behind us closes and assumes the facade of a windowed storefront in an odd world. An exquisite window display exhibits quaint doors from throughout history. Other attractive shops line a pristine avenue. The next store is an ancient apothecary, with colorful vials and bottles meticulously labeled in scrawling ink. I bend to examine them closer.

“These remedies are interesting,” Clifton says, leaning near my ear, “but you may want to stay away from the hair-growth one.”