Traitor Born (Secondborn #2)(12)
“But . . . they have no choice. The law requires them to have a second child to fulfill their duty to the Fates. If they don’t, they lose everything.”
“In Walther’s case,” Dune explains, “his adoptive Sword mother pretended to be pregnant. When my mother gave birth to us, my family paid a physician to assert live Sword-Fated births. The physician forged all the DNA screenings necessary to provide sword monikers for me and Walther. Walther’s adoptive family claimed him as their secondborn son so that they wouldn’t have to have another child of their own and give it up. In exchange, they receive Walther’s earnings as a secondborn Sword soldier and keep their positions in the Sword hierarchy. There’s no love there. Walther is a means to an end.”
“How did your Star-Fated family manage to keep all this a secret?”
“Walther’s adoptive family took him into their home as an infant and gave him to a mentor to raise. He lived with them in their house. He was brought to a few of their Sword family gatherings when he was a very young child, but when he became old enough to train in the art of war, he was sent back to Stars, to my real family, per their agreement. We were five years old when I was reunited with my twin brother and began training with my father and Daltrey. We come from a long line of warriors, spanning from a time when there were no Fates or laws to decide who or what a person should be. Our mistake was not training Kendall as well.”
“I’ve always believed you to be firstborn.”
“I was more fortunate than Walther. My adoptive family couldn’t have children. They tried for years and failed. The Kodalines are Sword aristocracy. They would’ve lost their titles and their wealth if they couldn’t produce a firstborn. They were desperate for a child. My adoptive mother, Corrine, and my adoptive father, Quinton, were eager for the illegal adoption, even knowing they’d be executed if it were ever discovered. They love me as if I’m their own child. They missed me when I was at my Star family home. They demanded visitations. I spent time in both Fates. Then they adopted another child in the same way—a secondborn girl named Surrey. My younger sister came from a Star family as well. She was the Star’s thirdborn child and would’ve been killed otherwise. The Gates of Dawn began as a secret movement to save thirdborns from Census. It grew from there into the network it is today.”
“What happened to your Sword sister?”
“Surrey was killed just after she Transitioned at an outpost in Darkshire. Friendly fire, they said. Our adoptive mother cried for days.”
“Were you close to Surrey?”
“Surrey felt more like a sister to me than Kendall. We spent more time together. She had no business being a soldier. It wasn’t in her nature.” Another note of regret. Maybe another reason why my training was always so brutally rigid? Every lesson, Dune stressed that mastery meant life or death.
“How did you come to know The Virtue?” I ask.
“When I was eighteen, I was sent to Virtues to be an Iono guard at the Halo Palace. It was an honor for my Sword-Fated family. I was one of the Halo Palace’s most proficient fighters. The Virtue noticed. Not long after, Clarity Bowie sent me to the Sword Palace to be your mentor.”
“You’re a firstborn aristocrat. Why did you take the job? You don’t have to work.”
“Before he died, my real Star-Fated father was an aristocratic advisor to The Virtue. He used his influence to plant the seed that I be sent to you to protect the future of the sovereignty of the Fate of Virtues.”
“You had plans for me even then?”
“Not plans exactly. We had scenarios. If we could train you from infancy, we’d have another angle of attack.”
“Why not Gabriel? Why not train him?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Mother.”
“Yes. Your mother only saw him. She never saw you. I could train you any way I saw fit, and she rarely interfered. I could teach you to be strong and decent.”
“Do the Kodalines know your loyalties lie with the Gates of Dawn?”
“No.” He frowns. “It would kill them to know.”
“If you can pay physicians for monikers, then you don’t need the stolen monikers I delivered to the Fate of Stars.”
He waves his hand dismissively. “Those physicians no longer exist. They’ve been routed by Census, one by one. I’ve been fortunate to have maintained my identity—my moniker wasn’t a copycat. When Census converted to the new monikers, my device appeared legitimate, so I was issued a new upgraded version after mine was rendered useless. Other thirdborns with copycats were discovered and executed. You saved lives by bringing the new monikers to us.”
“Only a few.” Most of their spies in the field were executed last year.
“You’ll save thousands from Census agents. All our attempts to reverse engineer the new monikers were failures, but because of you, our agents have access to the Fate of Sword’s industrial systems. We can create new profiles—new identities for thirdborns to avoid being senselessly slaughtered. Soon, we’ll locate the schematics and encryptions for the new monikers and duplicate them. You’ve done far more for the resistance in a short time than anyone could’ve imagined.”
His words don’t bring me comfort, not really. They make me feel torn. Sword soldiers are fighting the rebellion—the Gates of Dawn—as I sit here in a literal palace. My regiment is still in active combat. Conspiring with the Gates of Dawn makes me a Fate traitor. When I help them save thirdborns, I’m helping the very people my secondborn regiment is fighting against. I’m choosing to save one side from being murdered while neglecting to do the same for the other side. My side. Secondborn Swords die every day in this war. My people. Where is their peace? Who will save them?