The Rifts of Psyche by Kyle West (i love reading .txt) 📕

“You are missing part of the story, Cleon. Should you tell them, or shall I?”

Everyone looked at him, stunned. Cleon hung his head in shame.

“Cleon is himself responsible,” the Sorceress-Queen said. “For if it weren’t for him, Mage-Lord Kiani would have never seen his sister as a viable marriage candidate.”

“I introduced them, so what? How could I have ever known what would happen from that?”

“You are not as innocent as you make yourself seem,” the Sorceress-Queen said, her smile triumphant. “You only regret that you didn’t get the posting you desired for the arrangement.”

“That was before the slaughter of Kalm,” Cleon said, blue eyes burning. “That was before I knew the kind of man Mage-Lord Kiani was.”

The Sorceress-Queen’s smile disappeared. “And still, you leave out another important part of the story. At the time of the meeting, how old was your sister? And how old General Kiani?”

At this, Cleon was silent.

“He was fifty if you need reminding. And she was seventeen. A man that old doesn’t marry a girl that young unless someone is profiting by it.”

“I made a mistake,” Cleon said. “We were desperate. I . . . thought she would be taken care of. We were poor, orphans . . .”

“Come off it. You thought you would win a nice prize for yourself. Perhaps the title of Mage-Lord, someday?”

He ground his teeth. “Yes, but only to save our family. It was wrong, but I did want her safe and at the time, I thought Lord Kiani was an honorable man. She hated me when I told her, but it was for her protection. But when I learned what he was really like, he exiled me.”

“He exiled you for challenging him to a duel,” she said. “And he would have given you it, but I forbade him. Mage-Lord Kiani is too . . . useful . . . to waste on one such as you.”

The Queen seemed to be egging him on to commit some fatal error.

“We just need to cool off,” Lucian said. “You’re talking about how we need to work together, but all you are doing is making Cleon angry.”

“Stay out of this, Lucian,” Cleon said. “Or should I say lapdog?”

“I’m no lapdog,” Lucian said. “I’m just trying to do the best thing for all of us. There are no easy answers here.”

“I trusted her once,” Cleon said. “If you do the same thing, then you’ll end up like me. Completely lost and broken.”

“I don’t trust her, and she knows that herself,” Lucian said. “I simply said we need her help to get to the Orb of Psionics. Nothing more or less. That’s the truth.”

Cleon shook his head, not wanting to admit even that. “I made a mistake. The worst mistake of my life. I ran from that mistake. But now, I want to do everything I can to rectify it. I’m done running.”

“Poor fool,” the Sorceress-Queen said. “Are you so naïve as to think you can come back from this? You’ve already stepped off the ledge. It is done, and if you still plan to kill Lord Kiani, my loyal vassal, that will not sit well with me.” Her eyes glinted. “Even a Queen has need of a Butcher. A Queen needs a tool for every occasion, but that’s something you would never understand.”

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” Serah said, coming out of her silence. “You want us to work with you, and you’re psychologically torturing our friend. Whatever trust you were trying to build with us is gone.”

“I’m only trying to show you one thing,” the Sorceress-Queen said. “There is no such thing as a good person. Even honorable men, like Cleon, have dark stains. However much they wish to clean them, some stains just don’t come off.” Her eyes grew cold. “So, let’s just drop this charade, right now, that you are good and I am evil. We are merely people, doing the best we can with what we have. We are people who must work together for the mutual benefit of all.”

“You’re talking about uniting the mages and starting a war against the League,” Lucian said. “Chosen or not, I want no part of that.”

Her violet eyes turned on him. “Willing or not, that is your fate, Lucian. You can either go into that conflict with a strong position, or a weak one. Much depends on your choices in the next few days.”

Fergus shook his head, seeming at a loss. “This has gone so far beyond me. I was only told to find the Orb and give it to Lucian.” The large man looked up, though his broad shoulders were still hunched. “I’m with you, Lucian. Whatever you decide.”

Cleon cursed under his breath, while Serah just stared daggers at the Queen.

Lucian looked back at the Queen. “I guess we’ll see what your words are worth in the next few days. We will work with you. At least for now.”

“That’s all I ask,” she said, with a small, mysterious smile. “For now.”

36

In the following days, they did not meet with the Sorceress-Queen again together. Rather, Lucian met with her once a day for training. As much as he hated the prospect, he felt he had no choice but to comply.

He stood in her cabin, bathed and dressed in the rich vestments common to the Mage-Lords of her empire; tan breeches and fine, polished boots, a blue vest with silver trim, worn over a puffy white shirt. He felt ridiculous in it, but it was apparently the fashion. And it was her not so subtle way, perhaps, to separate him from his friends, who were not allowed in clothing as fine, though like Lucian, they were given their own cabins.

His first training session, the Queen asked him to stream each of the Aspects for her, sans Atomicism. As she followed each, Lucian’s skin crawled at the tingling sensation. She could see absolutely everything he was doing, and it was almost like being naked.

She shook