Prince of Storms Read Free Page A

at the empty air. As he did so, the guard toppled sideways, crashing heavily to the floor. At this sound, the navitar sidled down from the dais and moved toward the guard, prodding him with his cane. He looked confused. “Not alone, here. You have helpers, then. I’ll remember his threads. He’ll be mine.”
    Quinn was now wedged between Geng De and the dais. He stepped up next to Ghoris.
    His proximity seemed to agitate her. “Overflows,” she moaned. “The children swim, their mouths stopped with silver.” She held in her hand a mass of threads, hopelessly tangled.
    Geng De saw this and lunged his cane into the mass, dispersing it. Regaining his balance, he spun around and growled. “Where are you? By the deep Nigh, where?”
    â€œFollowing you,” Quinn whispered. The frame of a portal behind him pushed into his back. “You can’t have it, Geng De.” He couldn’t have the Rose for burning. But hadn’t he settled that already? Ahnenhoon, shut down. Lord—whoever it was, some lord—shut it down. “Can’t have it.”
    Geng De thumped his staff along the floor as he searched the cabin, not thinking to look on the dais. “I’ll have it. But that is just the beginning. You won’t want to be here. Leave the Ascendancy. Leave the Entire. I’ll spare you, then.”
    Ghoris smirked, now sitting more alert in her chair. “He’d have killed you by now if he could, Titus.”
    Geng De pivoted in her direction, nodding at her. “That’s right. I can’t touch his threads. He’s the one rogue strand, or I would have dropped him from the Ascendancy the day he took it from Sen Ni.”
    â€œI’ll never give you the Entire,” Quinn heard himself say. “Or the Rose.”
    Geng De turned and looked right at him. He had him, now. Saw him at last. The navitar’s staff seemed to thump on the floor as he approached. Stepping up to the dais, Geng De stalked forward and thrust his cane at Quinn,pinning him against the bulkhead. The cane went through him like a knife through a dream.
    Geng De whispered, “What do you…” He thrust the cane deeper. “What do you want ? Power?”
    â€œNo, I’ve never…”
    Still holding the cane like a spit through Quinn’s heart, he whispered, “That is a lie. You do want power. You’ve had just a taste, and already you’re corrupt.”
    â€œI don’t…I’m not…”
    Geng De smiled. “And don’t even know it, do you?” He lowered his cane, leaning on it, inches away from Quinn’s face. His voice went very soft as though confiding a secret. “As a babe, I fell in the Nigh. They made me a navitar at the age of four. I haven’t had a life, but that will change—change, because of your daughter. I saw Sen Ni in the strands, a pure form, a destiny of beauty, but choked by you unless I weave—weave very well. I’ve sworn to her I will. And if your strand evades me, there are always others.”
    â€œNooo,” Ghoris moaned.
    Geng De glanced at her. “Yes, old woman. Yes.” He said to Quinn, “Your ties of the heart. Oh, I see those, touch those.”
    But Quinn would always love who he loved. “You can’t change me.”
    â€œYou’re already changing. You should leave before you become something you wouldn’t like.” He shook his head at Quinn’s confusion. “Never mind.” He twiddled his hands in front of his face, staring intently. “Here are your lovely ties, the little threads of the ones you especially like. Nicely visible, burning hot.” He examined his hand, scanning it as though its movements trailed stories.
    Ghoris moaned. It seemed a kind of summons. Geng De murmured, “I’ll take them one by one, until no one is left.” He turned from Quinn and shambled toward Ghoris’s chair. “Move