David Farland - Lords of the Seventh Swarm

Zeus considered. Leave Lord Felph and the palace. “What would I gain from it?”

“Nothing,” “Arachne said. “But I’m asking you to walk away, to leave now and wander the desert. You could become a hermit. You will gain no glory. You will die old and alone, unloved. You would be miserable all of your days. But in doing so, you would let others live. This is what is best.”

“Best for whom? Best for me?” Zeus asked.

“Best for everyone but you,” Arachne said. “Father doesn’t see it completely yet, but he has begun to have misgivings. He’ll discover that you are a mistake. He wanted to create a new race of leaders. He thinks the Tharrin are too weak to control the world. He imagines that humans would be more amenable to someone like you, a powerful leader with human frailties. But our father is a fool. He thinks force must always be met with greater force. He doesn’t recognize the futility of his dream. Even if you could become a leader, others more cunning and ruthless would simply rise up to take your place, and we would find ourselves governed by men no better than dronon. Creating you was a mistake. Don’t let Father’s shortsightedness lead you down this path.”

“I don’t plan to kill Gallen,” Zeus said, surprised at the vehemence in Arachne’s tone, surprised at her conviction. “His actions dictate what will happen today, not mine.”

Arachne shook her head slightly. “You’ve decided to kill him, whether you know it or not. The temptation is too strong.”

Zeus stood, considering. He did not like Arachne’s halftruths and innuendos. So she knew he’d been considering murder. Certainly she couldn’t expect him just to walk away from this opportunity, just to run into the desert for a reason only hinted at. “So why have you come? To ask me to walk away from home? Or will you help me? You hint that if I kill Gallen, it will lead to my demise. Certainly my wise sister has some advice for me.”

“I’ve already given it,” Arachne said wearily. “But you will not follow it, no matter how sane my counsel, no matter how faultless my reasoning. So I am left with only one hope.”

“Which is…?”

“That you die today. Better that you die, than that you live on in misery.”

Zeus instantly became suspicious. He studied her hands, the folds of her yellow robe, searching for weapons. He wondered if she planned to shoot him in the back. But he could not imagine Arachne doing such a thing.

“Do you plan to kill me?” Zeus asked.

Arachne nodded. “I’ll do any part.”

“How?”

“With deadly knowledge.” Arachne waited for a moment for those words to sink in, waited for Zeus fully to realize she planned to tell him something that would lead to his death. She said softly. “Beware of Gallen. He is more than he seems.”

Arachne fell silent, and Zeus waited for her to continue, yet she did not speak. He stood over her, lingering. Her vague warning troubled him.

Gallen was a Lord Protector, a supreme fighter, but could he have hidden abilities, abilities like Zeus’s? Or was Arachne lying in an attempt to keep Zeus from attacking Gallen? If she wanted Gallen to live, perhaps she hoped Zeus would be frightened of him, would keep his distance. Or perhaps she spoke truly, and she planned to create some indecisiveness in Zeus, keep him from attacking quickly. Perhaps Arachne believed that if Zeus was indecisive, the Lord Protector could counter Zeus’s attack.

In half a moment, Zeus realized he needed to know more. Arachne would be reluctant to tell him. Yet he didn’t have time to wheedle information from her. So he came to a decision. He was standing over her, and with a swift but soft kick, he smashed Arachne’s nose and her head slammed into the wall with a thwack.

She half slumped to the floor, but her eyes were open. She stared around, dazed, and Zeus bent low and grasped a handful of her hair.

“Now, you prescient little bitch,” Zeus breathed into her ear. “You’re going to tell me exactly what you know about Gallen O’Day. What is he that I should fear him?”

For half a moment she did not speak, and Zeus looked around quickly. He did not want to be overheard, and he suspected that at any moment, Gallen or Maggie might come down this hall to the ship. He didn’t want Arachne warning them of his intent.

He took her by the hair and began pulling, dragging her toward the nearest door, an entry to the droids service chambers. Arachne recovered from being stunned and grabbed his wrists so he wouldn’t pull her hair out. She kicked, screamed. He considered killing her, but decided against it for now.

Instead he commanded the door to open, then commanded it to close as he passed, and he led her down the service tunnel, an entry broader than it was high, with minimal lighting. A hundred meters down the tunnel, he tossed Arachne to the ground.

“Now, bitch, tell me everything,” Zeus whispered. He placed the heel of his boot on her throat, ready to crush her esophagus if she didn’t answer.

“No!” she said.

Zeus was forced to punish her, but he dared not give a killing blow. Blood gushed from her nose, and both her eyes were beginning to blacken. Kicking her face again would gain him nothing. So he slammed her in the chest with his heel, driving her breast into her ribs.

She gasped in pain and began coughing. Whether she coughed blood, whether he’d punctured a lung, he did not care. He’d begun to lose patience.

“Tell me, big sister,” he growled. “I don’t want to be hard or, you. Were you lying? Who is Gallen O’Day?”

Arachne gasped, struggled to answer, and Zeus picked her up, by the material of her robe, pressed her against the wall.

“He’s … he’s Lord of the Sixth Swarm, you fool!”

The news astonished Zeus so much he stood up straight, let Arachne slide down the wall. He knew that if he were ever to gain position in this universe, he would have to fight the dronon. He’d imagined this would happen decades or centuries from now. Yet here sat Gallen, Lord of the Sixth Swarm, all unaware of Zeus’s intentions: Zeus only had to kill Gallen in order to take his place. It seemed … so fortuitous.

“You aren’t lying, are you?” Zeus asked.

Arachne coughed, spit blood. She shook her head. Zeus considered what to do next. As if reading his thoughts, Arachne said, “You don’t have to kill me. I won’t tell anyone.”

This annoyed him, the fact she knew his thoughts before he did. “Why not? Why wouldn’t you tell?”

“Because, I’ve already killed you,” she whispered. “I’ve told you the thing that will kill you. Nothing I do now will change that.”

Zeus feared she still withheld something, that she knew more about Gallen than she dared tell. She knew the Lord Protector could kill him, and she wasn’t saying how. He reached for her throat, and Arachne spit, “It’s not Gallen you should be afraid of, you fool! It’s power. It’s power!”

Zeus shook his head, not understanding.

“Imagine that today, even if you beat Gallen, even if you live out the day-why do you think he is here? He’s running from the dronon! The Lords of the Seventh Swarm are chasing him across the universe. Eventually they will find him.

“But what if they found you, instead? Could you beat them in single combat, could you best the dronon? Gallen knows he can’t. Death lies that way. Yet you run toward it. You seek his position.

“And what if you do happen to beat the dronon? What if you do gain a place of respect and power in this universe? What if ten thousand worlds elect you as their ruler, and you even manage to unseat the Tharrin? What then?

“I have already told you,” Arachne gasped, coughing. “Someone more ruthless and cunning than you will cut you down. If not in a hundred years, then in a thousand.