Kanto was the largest city on Tacitus, a hub of trade and tourism. It also housed the family seats of two of the three Great Families of the Serpents.

Tōru had spent most of his day with Oshiro Nariko, but after hearing Satsu’s report, he knew he had to visit House García as well. He needed to talk to Danilo, privately and in person.

This was the public residence of Lord García. Hidden away, high in the mountains, was the fortress that served as the true center of García power. Even Tōru had never been there. The ancient fortress was where the true García secrets lived, and only the most trusted, chosen few got to visit. Most of the clanspeople who lived there never left.

But the Kanto house was comfortable, and accessible, and as Danilo, Lord García, had gotten older, e spent more and more time here. Thus, today, Tōru found em in residence.

The old García was comfortably ensconced in one of the libraries that claimed most of the space in this house. E had a fire burning, which made the room uncomfortably hot, and was additionally wrapped in a blanket as e sat in one of the thick-cushioned chairs with a stack of books open in his lap and three different tablets displaying information on the table next to em. Alone in his own house, Danilo wore no mask. E’d always claimed it was an annoyance when e was trying to read.

E didn’t stand to greet Tōru, didn’t kneel, as would have been correct, but age had earned Danilo a great amount of leeway. “I heard you were in Kanto,” e said in eir brittle voice. “What brings you to my doorstep?”

“Rumors on the wind,” Tōru answered. “What else?”

Danilo snorted—an undignified sound. “Rumors are Oshiro business. Not mine.”

Tōru took the chair across from Danilo, pulling it as far from the fire as he could. “Are we alone?”

Danilo cackled a laugh. “Always so paranoid. But who can blame you? Tell him, Sugouri.”

“There is no other human close enough to eavesdrop,” came the familiar disembodied voice. “But I suspect it is my presence to which Lord Miyōshi refers.”

“Astute, as ever,” Tōru said in a dry tone.

Danilo waved away Tōru's complaint, as though he were no more than an apprentice spouting a ridiculous idea. “Whatever you have to say can be said in front of Sugouri. And probably should be. My memory these days…” e trailed off with a sigh.

Tōru had never understood the relationship the Garcías had with their AIs. He didn’t understand how they could trust the machines that were as inhuman as they were intelligent. But one of the lessons he’d internalized early was that to be an effective lord of his clan, he had to trust the judgement of his people, especially in areas where they were more expert than he was.

“Nothing leaves this room,” he said, looking up. He was never sure where to address the AI that had no physical presence.

“You have my word, Lord Miyōshi.”

According to Danilo, the García AIs lived by the same rules as any Serpent, and could be trusted as well as any flesh and blood member of the clan. Sugouri was Danilo’s partner, and had been for twice as many years as Tōru had been alive. Still, their presence made Tōru uncomfortable.

Especially considering what Tōru was here to discuss.

“I presume you’ve seen the reports from the clean-up on Terris.”

All Danilo’s cheer evaporated and a grim expression settled over eir face. “It is, in fact, what Sugouri and I were just discussing. A nasty business. One I hate having to rely on other eyes to bring me information.”

E sketched a wave in the air, and images appeared around em, projected from above. Pictures of the room at the Emperor’s estate. Both the first round, and the more recent occurrence.

“I only wish I knew what I was looking at,” Danilo grumbled.

Sugouri spoke. “It’s a framework of power that utilizes a connection to darkspace, feeding off the energies there. It has no connection to the nima. I find a number of records referencing the magic itself, coinciding with the beginnings of the Empire, falling off in frequency to disappear completely within fifty years. I can see other information in protected space that I have no access to.”

“What space is that?” Tōru asked. This was the first he’d ever heard of records the AIs could see, but not touch.

“I cannot answer that question, Lord Miyōshi.”

Tōru looked to Danilo, who shook eir head. “García secrets. I’m sorry.”

This was something wrong. Something fundamentally wrong with what the Serpent had become. They weren’t supposed to have to keep secrets from each other. They were supposed to be able to trust each other. But then, given what he had come here to talk about, he couldn’t fault Danilo’s wariness.

Danilo was still frowning at the pictures. “Hard to say what secrets the Dragon are keeping. A spy. We need to put a spy inside the Academy. But the akashic adaptation is so rare in our people, and to find it in the same person with enough of an etheric gift to pull it off?” E shook eir head. “Isabella is the only agent I have who might have a chance, and she’s embedded on Maximus in a critical spot. I can’t pull her away just yet. But this needs to be a priority.”

“Perhaps an agent from another family?”

“No. I grab all the akashics as soon as their gifts manifest. Unless you can find someone who snuck through without me noticing.” E waved the images away with a grumble. “Nita Girard should keep his own people where they belong. That would also help.

“The Dragon.” Eir lips curled into a sneer. “Their Academy—they’re told over and over again they’re the smartest people in the room. That theirs is the greatest power. They listen to no voices but their own, and then you give them proximity to the secrets of how to break the universe and expect any one of them not to think they know best?

“I had hoped, when Girard took over the Academy that it would knock some humility into them. All those Adepts, soaking in their arrogance. It makes me suspicious.”

“Suspicious of?” Tōru prompted as Danilo fell silent.

“Everything. Everyone. Soon-mi. I can’t say I’m surprised. This was Dragon-flavored stupidity, no question.”

Tōru had heard plenty of rants against the Dragon over the years. That wasn’t what he was here for. “The ambassador has been dealt with. My concern right now lies closer to home.”

“A large portion of the information you shared didn’t come from one of our agents,” Sugouri put in. “Although he is a Miyōshi. But one in the service of the Lord Marshal.”

“Yes.” Another issue Tōru was going to have to address at some point—the structural flaws that had led to Yeijiro leaving the clan. “Marshal Miyōshi's work was thorough, but there shouldn’t have been a need for it.”

Danillo tapped a gnarled knuckle against one of eir books, thoughtful. “The agents you had at Shadow Court missed something?”

“Perhaps.” Tōru had turned this over and over in his mind. There was only one conclusion that made sense. “But the more likely conclusion is that our agents were subverted.”

Either someone had known who the agents were and how to avoid them, or the information chain had been sabotaged. Either way, it pointed at the same thing.

A conclusion Danilo reached instantly. “You believe one of our own people betrayed us.”

“My own analysis of the information Lord Miyōshi has shared has brought me to the same conclusion,” Sugouri said.

Tōru bit back a snide response. He was here for Danilo’s perspective, and there was no getting around that half of Danilo’s perspective came from eir pet AI.

So instead, he said, “At first, I believed the conspirators had worked to hide things from our agents. But then, it was suggested to me—” clever Yeijiro, who threatened to be more and more of a complication with every day that passed. “There were two problems I was looking at, not one. The conspiracy, yes, but that only brought to light the other issue.

“I’ve spent the last few days studying, researching. I’ve found what I believe to be more gaps. I think this has been going on for a while, and it was only the extreme nature of this situation that brought it to light. Whoever is hiding things from me, they’ve covered their tracks well.”

“They would have. It’s my suspicion they’ve been doing it for years.”

That stopped Tōru short. “You knew?”

“I know…something. Not specifics. Suspicions.”

“We had no proof of anything.” Sugouri added, in Danilo’s defense.

“Shush,” Danilo said absently. “It’s my turn to talk now.

“Your mother was a terrible choice to lead the Serpent. If I’d been Lord García at the time, I never would have allowed it. But my predecessor was…soft. Easily charmed by that snake of a husband she had. So Chiyo became Lord Miyōshi.

“She was weak, and she was greedy. She put her own wants above the needs to the clan. She fostered an atmosphere that ran counter to everything we should stand for. There were fractures, and a few of those fractures survived her.”

Tōru leaned forward. “I’ve been Lord Miyōshi for five years. Why is this the first I’ve heard of this?”

“Because I had to be sure.

“You can’t imagine what it was like, watching what Chiyo was doing to the clan, unable to do anything to stop her. They were challenging years. But then she started looking for a successor. I knew this was my chance.

“You were always my pick. But I couldn’t let her get even a hint that I wanted you, or she would have sabotaged you from the start. Nariko and Chiyo both had their eyes on Hamilton. And he was certainly a strong contender. Smart, talented, charming.”

“Yes.” Because it was just the two of them, Tōru allowed the irritation to come through. “I am familiar with Oshiro Hamilton.”

Danilo cackled. “Oh, I know. I don’t like him any better, and I never had to deal with being in competition with him. But there it was. I was quiet. I said nice things about Hamilton, let them think I was every bit on board with him as they were. All the while I kept my eye on you, and held my breath every time the field narrowed. But you held your own. Until it was down to just you and Hamilton and it was to Chiyo, Nariko and I to decide.

“That was when I used my veto. I’m proud to say neither of them saw it coming, and there was nothing they could do, by the law. Hamilton was out, and you were the only remaining qualified choice to be Chiyo’s heir.”

Tōru had known some of this, had suspected the rest. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Danilo pointed a scolding finger. “Then you aren’t listening. Chiyo damaged the clan. How much, I’m not in a position to know. But I knew we were in danger, and I knew if I didn’t act carefully, if I put my faith in you and you turned out not to be the true believer I thought you were…” E spread eir fingers, miming a sudden explosion.

“Our duty to the Empire is important, but my duty as Lord García is to protect our secrets above all else. I had to be certain you were the person who could put us back together after Chiyo nearly broke us. If you weren’t, I couldn’t afford to let you know that I knew.”

Tōru had always known who he was, what he believed. That Danilo hadn’t trusted him was frustrating, but he couldn’t fault Danilo’s reasoning. Duty to the clan came first. It always came first.

“But now I know you,” Danilo continued. “I know you have clan interests at heart. That you understand our purpose in the Empire and that you’re committed to our cause in a way Chiyo never was. So now I tell you, there’s a faction within the Serpent that doesn’t put clan first. A faction that’s become everything that pompous Swan believes us to be. They’ve been in place for years, and learned to cover their tracks very well.”

“Until now.” Until Yeijiro’s investigation brought to light information Tōru should have had and didn’t.

What else had he missed in the last five years?

“Who is it?” Tōru asked. “Who do you suspect.”

Danilo gave a dismissive flip of eir hand. “That’s your business, not mine. Spies and traitors are not García concerns.”

That was fine. Tōru had a trail, and he knew where it started. All the Serpent agents that had been at Shadow Court—someone there had failed him. Or the person they reported to, or the person above that.

In the meanwhile, Tōru would have to re-evaluate exactly who he could trust.

“I’ll fix this.”

“I believe you will. Now go.” Danilo made a shoo-ing motion, an entirely inappropriate gesture to direct at the Lord of eir clan. “It’s time for my nap.”