Page 112 of Xerxes Ascendant
“Yes,” Rho confirmed, evidently realising Kyle needed short, straight-forward sentences right now. “He’s safe.”
Casey dropped Chaos, who hissed indignantly and swatted at his ankle, and then legged it outside. He was yelling Misha’s name and more about the perfume.
“Why the fuckity fuck,” Indira asked Rho with the level of exasperation she usually reserved for Kyle, “didn’t you fuckingstartwith that?”
Rho gave an elegant shrug and began to inspect her long, crimson fingernails.
“Akira,” Kyle said urgently, once he’d glanced outside and beheld the relief of watching Casey drag a whole and unharmed Misha from the autonomous car waiting at the curb. “Take me to Akira.”
Rho tsked at his impatience. “There’s really no hurry, Mr. Randall,” she drawled, drifting towards him at an infinitesimally glacial pace. “The Coterie won’t have even started their meeting yet. They’ll wait for me.”
Date of appointment:6 June 2073
Time:1.00am
Assigned to:Eric
Client request:"Eric please!!! Want my daddy to take care of me after a really shit week at work. Can I bring my teddy bear?"
-Extract from the records of House Epsilon's client bookings
CHAPTER 33
Akira
“Rho’s late,” Tau said, gesturing at one of two empty chairs at the table. The other was Akira’s own, but upon arrival he’d been firmly directed to the other side of the room where petitioners appeared before the Coterie. Now he stood alone, still and solemn, facing the scrutiny of the six seated Masters opposite.
“We’re not waiting for her,” Omicron declared without taking his eyes from Akira. “We have a quorum. Let’s get started.”
No one objected, for those indeed were the rules of their organisation. And if Rho was deliberately avoiding Akira’s farce of a trial, he couldn’t blame her. The fewer people who witnessed his disgrace, the better.
“Master Epsilon,” Master Nu began, their voice clear and emotionless in its projection. Another Coterie member with a separate professional persona, for Nu could be playful and extremely witty when not talking business. “This meeting has been called to settle the dispute between you and Master Theta.”
And yet it was only him who stood before them in the role of the condemned. Theta lounged amidst the others as though his seat was a throne, silver hair neatly bound at his nape and his expression sly and satisfied.
“Well?” Omicron demanded, the brusqueness cutting through the air like a knife. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Akira stared him down. “Nothing that has not apparently already been said for me.”
Theta shifted sharply in his chair to draw Akira’s attention. He brought his hand up to his chest and appeared to be absently playing with his dog tags, carelessly fingering the small slips of metal. Yet the movement emphasised the glitter paint that had been painstakingly applied around the glowing runes by a hand infinitely more caring and creative than the monster who now wore them.
Akira swallowed and looked away, unable to stand the sight of Misha’s dog tags hanging around the neck of his old Master. But the warning had been heard and heeded: sarcastic compliance would not be sufficient to play the role required of him tonight.
The Coterie would need to hear his confession in full before they would damn him, and Theta held the leverage that ensured they would receive it.
“You lied,” Omicron prompted.
Akira was grateful for the place to begin. “Yes.”
“About?”
“About Master Theta’s involvement in the events of my House on the night of the Fall. I told you that he facilitated and participated in the attack, but this was untrue. Mackenroth’s men acted alone.”
The words were acid in his mouth, but it wasn’t the first false story Akira had told, and it wouldn’t be the last. Even the disappointment in Nu’s sigh and the crestfallen expression on Sigma’s face couldn’t silence him now. Not when Misha’s life was at stake.
Theta made a wounded noise. “It’s freeing to finally hear you admit it, Akira,” he said through an affected half-sob. “You don’t know what it did to me, to hear you accusing me of such horrible...”
They all waited respectfully for him to finish but when it became clear he had no intention of doing so, Omicron jabbed an irate finger in Akira’s direction.
