Kelmomas smiled at the thought of the skin-spies. Agents of the Apocalypse. He loved hearing the stories about their wicked depredations during the First Holy War. And he had gurgled with delight watching the black one being flayed—carefully, so that Mother wouldn’t see, of course. Somehow, he just knew he would be one of the few who could see past their faces, just as he could see past his father’s voice. If he found one, he decided, he would keep it secret, he would simply watch it, spy on it—he so dearly loved spying. What a game it would make!

He wondered who was faster …

“You fear they’ll attack the Andiamine Heights?” Real horror shivered through Mother’s voice as she said this, the horror of events scarcely survived.

All the more reason to trap it like a bug, Kelmomas decided. He would say things, cryptic things, that would make it wonder. He needed something to tease now that Samarmas was gone.

“What better way to distract me than by striking at my hearth?”

“But nothing distracts you,” Mother said, her tone so desolate that only silence could follow. Kelmomas found himself leaning toward the door, such was the ache that emanated from the quiet beyond. It seemed he could hear them breathing, each following their own tangled string of thoughts. It seemed he could smell the absence of contact between them. Tears welled in his eyes.

She knows, the voice said. Someone has told her the truth about Father.

“When must you leave?” Mother asked.

“Tonight.”

Kelmomas made ready to push through the door … Mother was hurting! And it was Father—Father! How could he have missed this before?

He’ll see you, the voice warned.

Father?

None know how much he sees …

This puzzled the young Prince-Imperial. He stood motionless before the cast door, his hand arrested mid-air …

But she needs me—Mommy! Think of the warm cuddling, the tickles, the kisses on the cheek!

He’s the root, the voice replied, and you’re but the branch. Remember, the Strength burns brightest in him.

For reasons Kelmomas was entirely unable to fathom, that dropped his hand like lead.

The Strength.