Page 35 of Between Imminent Fates

The question caught him off guard. When Isaiah glanced over, he found his lieutenant’s attention fully centered on him. Perceptive to a fault, there was a reason Derikles was his second, and the man he trusted above any other.

Regardless, he couldn’t reveal the answer. “My task will remain a secret until the end. I’m certain Key will give you your marching orders soon, if she hasn’t already.”

A nod. “She has, but mine begin after we’ve won.”

Isaiah gifted him a rueful chuckle. “Certain, are you?”

“Are you not?”

The assuredness he heard in the other Raeth’s answer made Isaiah soften. “There are too many variables to claim victory yet. I won’t count it a win until we’ve seen it through.”

“Rather fatalistic, don’t you think?” Derikles rolled his shoulders as if to ward off Isaiah’s pessimism. “Have faith, sovereign. Key’s been working toward this end for centuries.”

Chuckling genuinely for the first time in ages, Isaiah merely shook his head. He dove back into the neural web that connected his clan together. Each unique link was reinforced in preparation, iced in a psychic neutralizing agent to ensure no one but Derikles noticed the change. There would be no hiding the experiment from the other man.

And then Isaiah made his move.

The effect on Derikles was immediate. Flinching, the other Raeth gasped and staggered on his feet before turning wide eyes to Isaiah. The influx of psychic connections erupted brilliantly between them, swelling in Derikles’ mind the way it’d always bloomed in his.

Confusion drummed through the clan bond between them, but Isaiah couldn’t concentrate on the other man’s emotions. As the framework held and the foundation solidified, he retreated. While the shift was incomplete—and would remain that way—it offered him the insight and clarity he required.

It would be successful should he complete the exchange.

“What—what are you doing?”

Derikles was a mix of roiling emotions, but for once, the man’s naivety was a plus. Isaiah didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he opted to psychically shift the connections back into place in his own mind. Derikles’ entire body radiated tension, and it didn’t dissipate even when all had been returned to its former station.

“A test. Nothing more.”

The other Raeth didn’t buy the lie. If anything, the flippant answer only made him more suspicious. Reticence shadowed Derikles’ features with deep concern for what’d taken place.

“A test for what? That—that felt like—”

“Nothing of consequence.” The lie tasted bitter on Isaiah’s tongue. “Don’t read into it, Derikles.”

Tearing his eyes away from a still-alarmed man, he attempted to rid himself of the guilt by surveying the domain that’d been his for centuries. Utah, with its dry heat and open spaces, would always be home. Here, Isaiah could allow himself to simplybe.

“Sovereign.” Derikles bared his teeth. “Isaiah. Tell me what’s going on. There’s no way that was ‘nothing of consequence.’”

Isaiah smirked at the brazen tone. “I’m four hundred years your senior, and I could literally turn you to dust. What part of that makes you believe I’ll disclose anything I don’t want to?”

“None of it.” Derikles shrugged, his tone defeated. “But how about as my brother?”

Face falling, Isaiah studied him. Though they shared no blood, the sentiment was true regardless. They had been as good as kin throughout the years, even when Isaiah had steadfastly refused to admit it. The man beside him was a warrior, and an honorable one at that.

It made what Isaiah would do to him even more shameful.

“I’ve been advised to hold my tongue with relation to my tasks.” An excuse if Isaiah had ever heard one. “I can’t disclose the nature of the test to you any more than Key could.”

“Does the foreseer hold such power over you?”

Isaiah opted for truth—theonetruth he could afford the other Raeth. “Key holds power over all of us, and you’d do well to respect it. We have to trust her. Discard your reservations, and swiftly. The knowledge she holds, the plans she’s crafted: she’s our only hope.”

Derikles left not long after. He’d been shaken by Isaiah’s experiment, that much was apparent. It was as though the very foundation he’d stood upon had been compromised.

Isaiah didn’t blame him. Having lived through something similar with his former sovereign, he knew that Derikles had a right to be disturbed.

Sparing one final glance toward the rising sun as it began to warm the desert air, he strode down the stairs and into his home. Isaak, his one-and-a-half-year-old son, came teetering up to him on wobbly legs.

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