Chapter 223

They stepped through the doorway onto the palace grounds.

The concierge bowed as they passed. “The Doorman offers his regards, Machine God, and apologizes for not being able to assist you directly. They are occupied clearing the last pockets of infected from the station.”

Alexander nodded without turning back. His attention was already sweeping the grounds.

The terrace was unrecognizable. Bodies lay in rows where someone had begun the grim work of organizing the dead. Blood darkened the marble in wide, overlapping stains he doubted any amount of cleaning would fully remove. Wreckage from the stage, the seating, the barriers, all of it scattered across the grounds in broken heaps. A small group of people moved between the rows, dragging corpses despite obvious exhaustion, many of them pausing to watch as Alexander and Maximilian passed.

Other than that, nobody remained outside.

Which made sense.

He could sense the palace’s internal systems. Lockdown protocols were running throughout the building. Sealed security windows. Climate systems operating at maximum capacity, recycling air, raising internal pressure, keeping heat inside. Redundant atmospheric processors that he suspected had been installed for an entirely different emergency were now the only things keeping hundreds of people breathing comfortably.

Paranoid levels of engineering for a palace, if not for the reality of being stranded on Mars.

He approved, though he’d had no reason to think about it before.

They made their way to the main entrance. Someone had constructed a temporary airlock out of heavy plastic sheeting, forming a sealed corridor. They unzipped it and stepped inside, then zipped it back up and made their way to the other end, which opened when they got close.

The guards on the other side clearly meant to check them for signs of infection. Instead, they took one look at Alexander and Maximilian and stepped back without a word.

The grand foyer had become a triage center. Nearly every surface that could hold a person did. Wounded civilians lay on makeshift pallets along the walls. Palace staff and what remained of the ESA security force moved between them, providing what care they could. The smell of antiseptic and blood mixed in the warm, pressurized air.

It extended into the hallways beyond. Dozens of people moving about, carrying supplies, calling for help, directing the wounded who could walk. But there were few genuine healers among them.

That was when Alexander spotted Felix. The cat sat on the chest of an unconscious woman near the far wall, both paws pressed to her collarbone, the faint green shimmer of healing visible beneath the contact. Felix’s head turned at the same moment, as if sensing him.

Their eyes met across the crowded foyer. Felix dipped his head once. Alexander returned the nod.

He already knew everyone was safe. But seeing it for himself was comforting.

If only that were all he could see. Felix and some others had the faintest aura, and threads that reached out toward him. There was no doubt in his mind that if he closed his eyes and reached out with his Will, he would find similar threads from different people reaching for Maximilian.

Alexander restrained his Will instead, not wanting to feel or investigate the change. Not yet.

Khalida’s aide appeared at his elbow, breathless and already moving. “Mr. Rooke. Mr. de Castillo. The Sheikha has been waiting for you. Please follow me.”

She turned and took off down the nearest corridor at a pace that didn’t invite discussion.

They did.

As they stepped around the beds, Alexander saw one man reach out for Maximilian, his eyes wide. Drugged, too. One of the staff grabbed his arm and tucked it back against his side.

The hallways told the same story as the foyer. Injured people propped against walls. Staff moving between them. The faint hum of the climate systems working overtime. The smell wasn’t as overpowering as they moved deeper into the palace.

Alexander spotted Gabriel before the precog saw him. The man sat in a chair beside an open doorway, sleeves rolled to his elbows, helping a medic wrap a young woman’s arm.

Gabriel looked up and met his eyes.

Alexander wondered if he was giving off some sort of signal. He turned to Maximilian. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

Maximilian glanced at Gabriel, then back at Alexander. He nodded and followed the aide without comment.

Alexander stopped and leaned against the wall, glancing inside the room. More makeshift beds. More survivors.

Half a minute later, Gabriel finished wrapping the woman’s arm and patted her knee, sending her off with a murmured word.

His eyes turned black as he stood and turned. “I would congratulate you, but it doesn’t take precognition to know you aren’t happy.” He reached out and patted Alexander’s shoulder. “Don’t worry too much about the city. Our friends are okay. And people are already opening ways to the nearest habitable dome. Including Auggy. That should solve the attrition problems caused by the cold and the thin air.”

Alexander let out a sigh. “Thanks. I was feeling a little… responsible.”

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Gabriel smiled. “Well, then you’ll be pleased to know that you are being credited for stealing an entire city back on Earth.”

He’d said it loud enough that several passersby turned to look at the pair, standing just beside the doorway, casually chatting. Most of them clearly recognized Alexander. He couldn’t decipher the mixture of expressions, though.

Instead, he scowled and raised his voice. “What? Why would I be happy about that?” He glanced up and down the hallway. Everyone refused to meet his eyes. “This is terrible.”

People slowly returned to what they were doing.

Alexander leaned in and whispered. “They really think it was me?”

Gabriel nodded. “That you orchestrated it with the Royals, at least.” He grinned. “And that the Throne of Scales were involved.”

Alexander choked back a laugh. Turned it into a cough when people glanced at him again. When they stopped staring, he smiled. “Nice. Max is going to be so pissed. I can’t wait to tell him.”

“Better hurry then. Annie is going to gloat the moment Maximilian enters the council chamber.”

Alexander blinked. “Shit.” He took off running. “We’ll talk later!”

Gabriel’s laugh chased him down the hallway.

***

Alexander burst into the room and realized he was too late.

The council chamber was as he remembered it. The long conference table of polished dark wood dominated the space, warm light reflecting off marble walls. But the room felt different now. Heavier.

Khalida sat at the far end, presiding. Her composure was intact, but the suit jacket was gone and the ivory blouse beneath was creased in ways that suggested she hadn’t changed since the attack. Her hands were folded on the table in front of her.

Maximilian had already taken his seat on the far side, close to the Sheikha. His expression was somber. Noticeably more than when Alexander had left him in the hallway two minutes ago.

Annie shot Alexander an amused smirk over her shoulder that told him everything he needed to know.

He’d lost the race. And more importantly, based on the mood in the room, it wasn’t the right moment to gloat.

Around the middle of the table, Sindre turned to look at him. The man had removed his glasses at some point, and without them he looked older. Harder. Beside him, Hjordis gave Alexander a nod. Her greatsword leaned against the wall behind her chair, still smeared with blood.

Julia sat almost opposite Maximilian. She turned to look at him as he entered, and the smile she gave him carried relief beneath it.

At the opposite end from Khalida, Titanic stood with his arms folded behind a chair. Seated within it, looking considerably more alert than the last time Alexander had seen him, the King of Diamonds studied Alexander with a look that showed he saw more than the others knew.

Alexander wondered exactly how much he could see.

Khalida glanced up at him. “Alex. I’m glad you’re here. Please join us. We have a lot to discuss.”

He closed the door and made his way to the seat next to Julia.

The Sheikha continued, a sharp edge entering her voice. “I’d like to start with who thought it was a good idea to tear my entire city from the face of the Earth and ship it to Mars.” There was a beat of silence. “Please.”

Alexander shifted in his chair. Several eyes turned his way.

Then King cleared his throat. “I apologize, Sheikha Khalida.” He dipped his head an inch. “The idea was mine, though I only intended to move the palace itself.”

Khalida’s eyes narrowed. “Then how is it that the entire city came with us?”

King let out a breath. “I had the Machine God and the Dragon Lord combine their Wills with mine. Part of my power, the ability to claim land and then relocate it, is very sensitive to the intentions of those who reside upon it.” He glanced at Alexander. Then Maximilian. “I underestimated just how powerful our combined strength would be. Particularly with three Divine Wills carrying the support of their allies and friends.”

Silence fell over the room.

Alexander shared a look with Maximilian.

So much for their carefully laid plans.

Hjordis leaned forward. “Wait. Three?” She turned to look at King, then Alexander and Maximilian. “You did the thing already? Become demigods or godlings or whatever? How?”

“We weren’t really planning to discuss it just yet,” Alexander said, shooting a half-hearted glare at King, “but yes, we… did the thing.” He shrugged. “But we don’t know how, so don’t ask. And we’re not planning to discuss it like this, either.”

He turned to Khalida. “That said, I should probably be the one to apologize. Not King. I told him to do anything he could to help. All that mattered at the time was stopping the Lost Prophet and his dead minion army.” He sighed. “So. Sorry about all of this.”

She stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. “Fine. Apology accepted. We did what we could with what we knew.” Her shoulders slumped slightly, and she leaned back in the chair before crossing one leg over the other. “Let’s focus on more important matters. Is the Lost Prophet dead?”

“Yes,” Maximilian said.

Khalida turned to him. “Are you certain?” She hesitated. “He’s not going to just… rip his way out of another person any moment now?”

“We are certain. But as Alexander said, we won’t discuss why right now. On my—” Maximilian glanced at Alexander. “On our honor. He is dead.”

Sindre spoke before Khalida could continue. “We are allies in this, Maximilian. Alexander.” He picked up his glasses from the table and slipped them back on. “Why won’t you share what you’ve learned about Divinity with us?”

Hjordis nodded emphatically beside him.

Alexander caught Annie’s nod, too. Even Julia was watching him.

“We have our reasons,” Alexander said. “The list starts with not really understanding what’s going on, and it ends with us wanting to protect ourselves.” He raised an eyebrow at Sindre. “You’ll just have to accept that for now. When we’ve had time to figure things out, we’ll share what we feel is safe.”

Sindre studied him over the glasses. “I see.” He paused. “Very well. We accept that for now, but I trust you remember that the Northern Shield and Grimnir and the Throne of Scales are not simply allies anymore. We are partners in what is coming.”

“I will respect both the terms and the spirit of the Compact.” Alexander grinned. “Especially now that I’ve met you and seen what you’re made of. You and your sister are two of a kind, huh?”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Hjordis growled.

“He’s trying to say I am as reckless as you, sister.” Sindre frowned. “A blatant untruth, of course. We are nothing alike.”

Hjordis crossed her arms. “Damn right.”

“As entertaining as this is, we have far more pressing issues to resolve.” Khalida focused her attention on the other end of the table. “King. Can you return my city home?”

King closed his eyes and shifted his head slowly from side to side for a few moments. “I think so.” His eyes opened. “But not right away. I am nearly completely drained. It will take a few days to recover fully, and when I do, I will require the Machine God and the Dragon Lord’s assistance again, along with anyone else remaining in the city.”

Khalida sighed. “That is both a better answer than I feared I would get, and a worse answer than I hoped to get.” She took a breath. “Fine. We’ll have any capable superhumans working to clear the city of the infected over the next few days, and continue to evacuate anyone struggling with the Martian atmosphere to the domes. What help do you need from everyone else when it’s time to return?”

King smiled. “I’ll need everyone thinking that there is no place like home.”