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Umar swung his great sword at Zafira’s belly, but she leaped clear and began to circle him. “You’re a fool, thinking you can take me,” he sneered. “You don’t even have a sword!”
No, she’d had to drop it when Gerik threatened Rance. But she did have a dagger—and more importantly, her Imperial Combat nanosystem. Umar, judging from the arrogance on his face, had forgotten all about that.
From the corner of one eye, she saw Edin standing off to one side, watching the fight with the casual interest of a man at a z-boxing match. Casus, meanwhile, stood over Aaren’s body and wrung his hands, visibly longing to run.
“Bitch!” Umar charged, swinging his sword in a furious arc. Zarifa coolly stepped into his charge, catching the descending sword with her dagger. She twisted and wrenched upward with all her nanobot-enhanced strength. The sword flew out of Umar’s hand. He grabbed for it frantically, but she snatched it out of the air.
For an instant, their eyes met. The regent’s widened in shock and disbelief. She bared her teeth and whirled the great blade in a vicious arc. He tried to stumble clear—
The impact jarred her arm to the shoulder.
Umar’s body toppled as his helmeted head hit the deck with a rolling clatter. The monster was finally dead.
“Father!”
She whirled as the big man spun away from Rance and plunged toward her, his sword lifted. “You’re dead, you little whore!”
Zarifa had time for an instant’s icy fear. She’d already learned her combat system was no match for his cyborg power. Bracing herself, she lifted her sword and prepared to parry.
Gerik stopped in his tracks with an odd, gasping sound. He looked down.
Zarifa followed his gaze and saw three inches of blade protruding from the center of his chest.
Behind him, Rance said, “I told you you’re a dead man.” He jerked the sword free.
“No,” Gerik wheezed. “I’m not supposed to lo—” He never finished the sentence. His eyes rolled back as he fell.
Her nanos warned her. Zarifa whirled, her sword swing taking Casus in the belly the instant before he could bury his dagger in her back.
“I wanted to do that,” Rance said, watching the slaver topple.
“And I’d rather have let you.” Zarifa grimaced and swallowed bile. She badly wanted to sit down. As many times as she’d practiced swordplay with her trainer, she’d never killed a man before. Now she’d slain three.
Rance reached for her, but before he could take her in his arms, the warehouse’s double doors slid wide.
Oh, sweet Lady, Zarifa thought, her heart stuffing its way into her throat. Not more of them…
They turned to see Kuarc Lorezo saunter in at the head of a small army of armored men, two of whom were dragging a badly battered Edin. Evidently he must have tried to slip out when he realized which way the fight was going.
Every one of the rebels was covered in blood and breathing hard. Apparently they’d run into Umar’s bodyguard—and it hadn’t gone well for the guards.
Kuarc bared his teeth in something she didn’t mistake for a smile, his eyes assessing the bodies lying around the room. “Well, Sister, you have been busy.”
Weariness and shock kept her from choosing her words more carefully. Anyway, she was tired of pretending. “I’m not your sister.”
Kuarc laughed, but a dangerous anger flared in his violet eyes. He looked like a younger version of her father: big, broad-shouldered, with a mane of red hair tied back in a club. “I’ve got blood tests that say differently.”
“They were identical twins.” She tugged off her gauntlet and dropped it on the deck. “That’s the only reason my father was able to pass you off as his bastard.”
“Zarifa,” Rance hissed, “what the hell are you doing?”
“The girl’s drunk again,” Edin put in. “That, or she’s gone mad.”
“Shut up,” Kuarc snapped. “You’re in this up to your neck.” He bared his teeth at his second-in-command. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice what you were up to? Did you really think I wouldn’t have you followed?” He turned his attention to Zarifa and lifted his sword. “As for you, I’d strongly recommend you start talking sense, if you can. I’m running out of patience.”
“It’s simple, Kuarc. You’re not a bastard.” She fought to drag the big diamond off her finger. It had, of course, never fit particularly well, since it wasn’t her ring. “You’re the legal son of Emperor Sevan Lorezo, who married your mother before his death. This is her ring—and the proof of their marriage.” The diamond finally slid free, and she dropped to one knee, extending it to her stunned cousin. “You’re the rightful emperor, Kuarc. You always were.”
As she brushed a thumb over the diamond, it triggered the simmie recording the stone held. The three-dimensional image flashed into being, showing a handsome young redheaded man standing next to a slender blonde who wore an expression of gi
