Arik listened to the clattering of Phasematter weapons. It was audible even over the ceaseless screeching alarm. He choked on his cowardice. Out there, his cousin was struggling for his life, for both their lives.

What can I do against a Bonded? They can see through walls and shoot lasers from their eyes.

Attacking a Bonded was practically suicide, even for a seasoned warrior. He didn't have a gun or any weapons, leaving only his fists. They wouldn't do him any good.

I need to take stock of my options. I don't have any weapons, and there's no way I could fight. All I have is my brain and my words. Would Kormel even listen to me? Guess it's time to roll the dice and hope for a natural twenty.

It didn't matter. Arik needed to try. Because Fahon would do the same for him. They were family. He threw himself out of the car, stumbling onto the driveway.

Fahon was unconscious, with Kormel standing over him, breathing heavily. The cobalt Caster floated above him, spinning.

Kormel dismissed lumps of red Phasematter encasing his fists. He quickly Phase-crafted a pointy red lance and lifted it, ready to impale Fahon with it in the chest.

"Wait!" Arik shouted as he jogged over.

Kormel hesitated, glowering at Arik. "You should have stayed in the car. You don't want to see this."

"No, you don't want to do this, Kormel. You're not a killer. I mean, do you kill people, but only when necessary. To send a message. You're a businessman, not a psychopath. A guy like you doesn't murder people and take pleasure in it."

"What do you know about me?" Kormel squeezed the lance, his knuckles turning white. "Besides, this situation is different."

Arik raised his hands as he stepped closer. "What's my cousin's head worth anyway?"

"Psh. I'm not getting paid for this. I owe a guy. Killing this kid makes us even."

"This guy has leverage on you then. Coercion is the game powerful people play to get what they want. You know it."

"Tsk. Shut up."

Arik continued, "The Syndicate has a fearsome reputation, all over the moon. You must realize their reputation is also your reputation. This mysterious person you owe wants to make it look like the Syndicate ordered this hit. Assassinating political targets is a big step up for a bunch of drug lords. You're at the center of this whole plot, Kormel. And you'll take the fall in the end."

Kormel relaxed, loosening his grip on the weapon. What was rolling around in that head of his? The lance dissipated, red embers scattering away. He lowered his arms. "I'm not sparing his life for you. You're right; this whole situation stinks. I don't like being a pawn." He grabbed Arik by the front of his shirt, pulling him close.

"Don't think you'll get away with taking the Syndicate's money and not paying us back."

Kormel was downright intimidating, standing right in front of him, snarling, with rust-colored eyes dark with anger and a blood-stained shirt. His red and white striped Caster loomed over his shoulder, joining with the threat. Even the red Phasematter just reeked of aggression.

"Y-Yes."

Kormel threw Arik back, letting go of his jacket. "The guy who wants him dead isn't going to quit. Trust me, I know his type. He can't know where the kid is, not if you want to keep him alive."

I can't believe Kormel listened to me. I don't know how Fahon will take fleeing the country, though.

Arik hustled over to his incapacitated cousin, taking him under the arms and dragging him to the vehicle. Kormel snatched Fahon's Caster and followed as Arik struggled to shove Fahon's limp body into the seat. He was heavier than he looked.

The Syndicate boss studied the cobalt orb, avarice shining in his rust-colored eyes. He tested its weight in his palm, then frowned. "Bah—taking the kid's Caster would stir up worse trouble. Even if it's worth a fortune."

He tossed the Caster inside. Before hitting the floor, the cobalt orb stopped mid-air, hovered above Fahon, and loosed a strange, digitized growl. Reaching into the pocket of his suit coat, he pulled out Arik's comm and handed it back.

"They'll track your signal; find you eventually," Kormel said.

"It's fitted with a scrambler; there's no way they'll find me," Arik replied.

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"You're not as stupid as you look then."

Kormel closed the door closed. Arik commanded the cybermind to drive. At the front gate, he had to get out and manually activate the gate switch inside the guard house. The guards weren't there, having abandoned their station to respond to the attack. Arik hoped the guys were okay, because if not their deaths were on him. The automated gate of the palace clinked open.

Arik returned to the vehicle, and it drove away from the palace into the night.

---

Minutes later, cruising on the highway through Whitestone, Arik's hands shook. His cousin, shirtless, shoeless, face bloodied, and unconscious, was propped on the seat across from him. The cobalt-shelled Caster sat spinning, suspended over him like a disembodied spirit.

It was at least a thousand kilometers from central Ophan to the border of the Free States. On the highway, the journey would take at least half a day. If they took the rail, it was a straight trip from Whitestone to Zele in seven hours.

Look at the condition we're in. We would never get past security at the terminal. Arik wrung his hands.

He hoped Fahon would be okay.

Moments later, his cousin stirred, gray eyes slowly opening. He lingered, disoriented, for a moment, before groaning and sitting. Snatching his Caster out of the air, he examined it.

"Take it easy," Arik said. "You probably have a concussion."

Fahon didn't look at him, instead running a finger over the smooth surface of the orb. "You saved me again. Thank you."

"Oh—you're talking to the Caster now—you must have brain damage."

Fahon set the orb on the seat beside him. It rolled back on the cushion, suddenly inanimate. Was there a switch on its surface to make it inanimate like that?

Fahon hissed as he touched his slashed open cheek. Slumping back in the seat, he exhaled deeply. "Kormel?"

Arik shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know how his cousin would take all of this. "I convinced him to spare you. He didn't want to kill you anyway. Someone has leverage over him and forced him to do to attack."

Fahon watched the world pass them by out the window. "Where are we going?"

Arik followed his gaze. "To the Free States, we have to escape Ophan. It's not safe right for you."

The highway ran along the edge of Whitestone's shining metropolis. Thousands of lights were clumped together in grids, like circuits on a board. The lake at the center of the city shone with the reflection of Haven above, angry yellow storm clouds swirling.

"Right under the nose of Syndicate. Is this a smart idea?" Fahon asked.

"We can stay hidden there easier, trust me. Blend right in with the masses once we have the right outfits. Besides, I know people who fight against the Syndicate. They can help."

Fahon's frown deepened. "I can't run away. I have a duty. To the people of Ophan as Inheritor, as an Argent Knight."

"If you stay, this mystery enemy will come after you. It will be worse than Kormel. Maybe a trap, poison, or a bomb—an attack aimed at killing a Boned. It's going to get messy, Fahon. Maybe other casualties to worry about. This attempt is to send a message to House Drakk."

"I can't hide forever. Pretend I'm dead or have been abducted. It's not even about my duty. What about our family?"

"I'm not saying we hide forever. We let the dust settle, see what happens after your disappearance."

Arik produced his comm and flipped it open, checking for new alerts or messages. Quickly, he selected the news feed. He saw nothing about the attack at Drakk Palace yet. Wait. Another headline caught his eye.

Kormel was released from prison. He scanned the article quickly, his mouth agape when he read who authorized the release. He closed the comm and laid it on the armrest charging pad. The battery was getting low.

"Crin was the one who let Kormel out of jail."

"He must have good reason." Fahon rubbed his chin in contemplation. "I know my father was struggling with making a decision about Kormel. It's like taking an enemy general prisoner since Kormel is a commissioned Bonded for the Free States. Confiscating his Caster alone could start a war. Even if handing it back makes House Haloran look weak, it's the best move. Crin is an Argent Knight. After all, his honor dictates him to protect Ophan."

Arik rubbed his forehead. He doubted Fahon's logic. Being the gambling man he was, he would put his marks on a rival House being responsible for the assassination attempt. Noble Knight or not, people like Crin Haloran loved power. Why else would he take the second most powerful position on Ophan?

House Haloran was wealthy, but it was old money earned centuries ago. It's why they didn't bother reinvesting, sitting on their fortune. They emptied the titanium mines of the Titan Hills Province in northern Ophan. And the other largest resource, lumber, didn't make a considerable profit. The forestry involved was labor intensive, especially with mandatory replanting laws. They didn't have the manpower for other industries. Slowly, they were dwindling. If they took control of Ophan, it would all change.

Crin was a slimeball opportunist by all of Arik's accounts. He had been put into his position through an arranged marriage and being a man to inherit House Haloran. His father was a Worker Sect merchant and made a deal with the Ruler: Crin's wife.

Arik touched his bloodied, split lips and winced. "The article said Crin let Kormel go to prevent conflict with the Free States. Think about this for a second: Crin could have conspired with Kormel. Your life for his freedom. It's the simplest explanation."

The sprawl of the city continued rolling past the windows. Arik looked wistfully at the fortunes he would have made if this didn't happen. The upcoming fights would've helped him triple his money. The Syndicate would have gotten a briefcase with a double he owed them. But that all changed instantly.

Fahon looked grim with his battered appearance. This situation wasn't one he would swallow easily. "Crin is my father's loyal ally. My father is the quill, and he is the blade. A dynamic duo in Ophani politics. By the Twins…you're considering the Knight Commander as the one who tried to assassinate me."

"All I'm saying," Arik said, running fingers through his gel-crusted mess of red hair, "is we can't trust anyone, especially those who have everything to gain from you returning to the dust."

Fahon narrowed his eyes. "Kormel knows who did this. Why didn't he tell you?"

Arik shrugged. "He fears betraying the people out for your head, I guess. The Syndicate doesn't want them as an enemy. You see, Kormel's a brute, a top-level enforcer with the Syndicate. The only things he answers to are strength and piles of marks."

The car passed a sign: Thank you for visiting Whitestone! They were out of the city and in for a long drive to get to the border.

"It doesn't matter," Fahon finally said. "We can't know anything for sure."