Lora Beth Johnson - Devil in the Device

Goddess in the Machine

Zhade woke to a knife at his throat.

Darkness shrouded the figure above him, its weight pressing down on Zhades chest. Metal bit into his skin, warm and slick. His covers were twisted round him, and there was no way to fight, nowhere to run. There was nothing sole to lie there and accept his fate.

Stardust swirled thickish in the air, waiting for a command from the Crown, but he didnt call to it. Couldnt.

Instead, he sighed.

You again? he asked his would-be assassin.

The blade fell away. The weight scuttled off him.

You need better guards, a high voice said.

The first rays of light peeked through the seams in Marets dark curtains, illuminating Doons face, pink from the sun, her clothes coated in sand. Her dark eyesthe exact shade of brown as her brothersglinted fierceish as she sat crouched on the edge of the bed, blade still ahand, a single eyebrow raised.

Zhade threw his arm over his eyes. I have Gryfud. You cant find a better guard.

Doon huffed. Gryfuds at home with his fam. You have Meta standing guard this moren.

Zhade wrinkled his nose and ruffled his hair. The blond strands tickled the back of his neck, longer than hed ever worn it. Longer than he liked. Rare form. I do need better guards.

His guards were loyal to Tsurina, full true. And if it was Meta at the door, she probablish held a sign that said Assassins welcome.

He gentlish pushed Doon off the bed. Youre getting sand in my sheets, little warrior.

She landed on the carpeted floor with a soft thud. If I had been an assassin, sand would be the least of your worries. She sheathed her knife and looked round the Guvs room, taking in the heavy curtains, dark furniture, and haze of stardust. It looks like you havent cleaned since you became Maret. She sniffed. And that Maret didnt clean since he became guv.

Then I cant full well start cleaning now if I want people to reck Im Maret. Zhade groaned as he climbed out of bed, which, for all its luxury, still felt uncomfortistic and cold to Zhade. But he was here, and his brother was sleeping frozen agrave. So there, as Andra would say.

He stretched his aching muscles, twisting from side to side.

Turn round, he said through a yawn. Cant I have some privacy?

He started riffling through the discarded clothes next to the bed for a clean shirt.

Doon turned her back to him. Maybe you should sleep in armor soon and now, if its this easy for someone to sneak past your guards.

Zhade sniffed one of Marets dark purple tunics and was assaulted by the smell of sour sweat and something coppery. He could have sworn this pile was the laundered one.

He shrugged the tunic on and froze when he saw himself in the wardrobes mirrored doors. There were dark hollows neath his eyes, and his hair hung in greasy clumps. Everything bout him looked thinhis nose, his pointed chin, his body. His presence. It had been over a moon since hed used the graftling wand, but his stomach still tightened when he saw his brothers face reflecting back at him.

I have to convo you something, Doon said. She was slumped in a chair, face drawn in an imagineful expression.

Is it where youve been? Zhade asked, searching through the wardrobe for one of Marets capes. You have to stop disappearing. You cant mereish wander off whenever you feel amood. You should convo Skilla where youre peacing to. Or Dzeni. Or take Xana with you.

For certz, Guv. She said the word the same as she used to say his name. Something more than irritation but not quite disdain.

Im not saying this as your guv he started. But what was he saying this as? Not her brother, for certz. Not her guardian. Hed convinced her brother and guardian to abandon her. Then gotten him killed.

Good, because youre not for true the guv. Doon gave him a hard smile. You reck that, marah? Its still Maret on the throne.

Zhade rolled his eyes. It was true that he still wore Marets face, but he was ruling by his own values. The dungeons had been emptied, the executions had stopped. Hed found housing for those displaced by the pocket and found workings for those without. Maret would have done none of that. He would have given in to Tsurinas demands to punish those who looted during the panic after the dome had been destroyed. Hed have left the homeless and workless to fend for themselves. Then hed have thrown a party to distract everyone from the state of the city.