“But—”
“They won’t,” he says sternly. “If they are of Egyptian descent, they won’t attack during the feast because of their respect for the gods. Hades, why has no one thought to mention an alliance?”
My eyes squint, and I pull my arm free of his hand. “What do you mean? Try to bring them into our forces? They are rogues—as much as any rogue of Egypt. And are being controlled by someone who wishes to see Egypt fall. Who wishes to see you dead, Xarion.”
“But they are first created in the image of Set.” His green eyes flick over my face. “Like you, and all Kythan, they must worship the immortal ones. What if we could break their binds to Octavian? There would be no need to defeat them. They could be willing to join us against him.”
My lips pinch together as my mind thinks over his idea. It’s far more lucrative than anything Fadil or Habi suggested, which was nothing more than meditate, battle, death, destruction. But again, Candra’s tinkling voice pervades my thoughts.
Lifting my chin, I meet Xarion’s gaze, his stature so much taller than mine I have to tilt my head back at a sharp angle. “I wanted to talk to Phoenix first, but . . .” Xarion raises his eyebrows, prompting me on. “But one of the Leymak spoke to me. Through the aether, in my mind.”
“How? Habi made no mention of this.”
“I know.” I shake my head. “I waited for him to say so, but I’m not sure he encountered the same thing. I’m not sure any other Kythan did. But she spoke to me, and she asked me to join her. She said something about freeing myself from my master.” I dip my head, hide my eyes.
Xarion looses a heavy breath. “Rogue,” he says simply.
“It was most likely a trick—to weaken me; take me off-guard. But the way she said it, it was as if—I’m not sure.”
“As if they’re formulating their own plans to break free of their binds.” Xarion shakes his head, and I finally meet his eyes. “Whatever was used to create them, they are not in full service to their master. They are truly rogue, and will only join us if it meets their goal.”
“Then you believe Octavian has no real power over them.” I study his intense, far away gaze as he considers my words.
“I believe we need to visit the Library and learn everything we can about the creation of the Kythan.” He extends his hand, touches my arm softly. “For whatever purpose they were designed, they are of something dark, and have been loosed on Egypt. We need to understand what we face.”
A line forms between his brows. He worries his lip between his teeth.
“What else, Xarion?”
“Nothing, just . . .” He releases me and backs up a step. “Why—how could she speak to you through the aether? Only you.”
“I’m unsure.”
“Tell no one,” he says. “Not even Phoenix.”
“Why? Xarion, I don’t think there’s anything to worry—”
“Promise me, Star—No. I command you to tell no one until we’ve investigated them thoroughly.”
My mouth drops open. “You act as Pharaoh and command me? Now?”
He nods once. A hard frown pulls at his lips, his forehead creases, as if he’s struggling internally with his choice. “I’m giving you a command.”
A burning worms its way from my stomach to my chest. “Of course, master.” I turn my back on him and start again toward the entrance.
“Star!” he calls. “Don’t be this way. It was your wish that I’d act as Pharaoh. Come back.” He groans. “This is the only way I know how to protect you!”
My heart says to keep on, to not look back. But that is childish. Xarion and I may have grown up together: chasing one another in the palace gardens; swimming together in the sea; fighting for the last apricot, his favorite fruit. But I’m no longer a child. Nor is he.
He’s a pharaoh. And I’m his guardian.
The binding to him aches in my chest, tingles along my skin, my neck; the mark of the Kythan. The swirled ink engraved there forces me to obey his command to tell no one. But my heart aches. It’s the first time he’s ever enforced an order through a command. I’m not sure he understands how this has affected me—us. How it changes everything.
Turning to face him, I say, “I’ll tell no one, master.” I bow regally. “And if you plan to be ready for the procession in time, I suggest dressing soon. I’ll be waiting at your chambers to escort you.”
My eyes, narrowed and hurt, meet his before I turn and march out of the palace.
I have just enough time to make it to the Rhakotis Quarter, change, and then enjoy a few free moments at the feast before I have to return to the palace.