Gavin smirked, then got serious. “Kip, your mother and I did what we did. I appreciate you trying to shield me from the consequences of my actions, but you are not trapping me into anything. People can talk. I don’t care. Understand?” He expelled a breath. “Regardless, the only damage I care about has already been done.”
For a second, Kip didn’t understand. The damage was already done? No one even knew Kip was alive.
Except Karris. That was what Gavin meant. Kip had caused a rift with the only person in the world Gavin cared about. What had been intended to make Kip feel better hit him instead where he was weakest. His mother had made him feel guilty for simply existing for as long as he could remember. He’d ruined her life by being born. He’d ruined her life by having too many demands. He’d made people look down on her. He’d held her back from all the things she could have done. Mentally, he could try to shrug off her words. She didn’t mean it. She loved Kip, even if she had never said the words. She didn’t know how she was hurting him.
But Gavin was a good man. He didn’t deserve this.
“Kip. Kip.” Gavin waited until Kip looked up at him. “I will not abandon you.”
Visions of a locked cupboard, screaming—screaming—and no one answering. “Is there anything to eat?” Kip asked, blinking. “I feel like I haven’t eaten in a week.” He poked his chest. He could feel ribs sticking out.
Gavin pulled a rope of sausages out of his pack, cut one off—only one?—and tossed it to Kip. “Tomorrow, you start at the Chromeria.”
“Oomowwow?” Kip asked, mouth full.
“I’m going to share a secret with you,” Gavin said. “I can travel faster than anyone suspects.”
“You can disappear and reappear somewhere else? I knew it!” Kip said.
“Um, no. But I can make a boat that goes really fast.”
“Oh, that’s… amazing. A boat.”
Gavin looked nonplussed. “Point is, I don’t want anyone to know how fast I am. There’s war coming, and if I need to unveil it, I need it to be a surprise. You understand?”
“Of course,” Kip said.
“Then I need you to tell me what you want. I’m going to go take care of some things while you’re being initiated.”
“Initiated?”
“Just some tests to determine the rest of your life. You’re late, though, all the other students have already started, so we have to hustle you in. After initiation, you can stay and be trained.”
Kip’s throat tightened. Dropped alone on a strange island, knowing no one, and having little time to prepare for a test that was supposed to determine the rest of his life? On the other hand, the Chromeria was where he’d learn the magic he needed to kill King Garadul. “What’s the other option?”
“You come with me.”
It was light at the end of a tunnel. Kip’s heart flipped. “And what are you going to do?”
“What I’m good at, Kip.” Gavin stared up, his irises swirling rainbows. He smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was cold and distant as the moon. “I’m going to make war.”
Kip swallowed. Sometimes looking at Gavin, he felt like he was staring through trees, getting glimpses of a giant striding through a forest, crushing everything in his path.
Gavin turned his eyes back to Kip. His face softened. “Which mostly involves boring meetings to convince cowards to spend money on things other than parties and pretty clothes.” He grinned. “I’m afraid you’ve probably seen more magic out of me already than most of my soldiers ever did.” His eyes clouded. “Well, not quite. You look confused.”
“It’s not really about what you just said, but—” Kip stopped. It seemed like a pretty offensive question, now that it was halfway out of his mouth. “What do you do?”
“As Prism?”
“Yes. Um, sir. I mean, I know you’re the emperor, but it doesn’t seem like…”
“Like anyone listens to me?” Gavin laughed. “Seems like it to me too. The bald truth of it is that Prisms come and go. Usually every seven years. Prisms have all the foibles of lesser men, and huge shifts of power every seven years can be devastating. If one Prism sets up his family members to govern every satrapy, and the next Prism tries to set up his own in their places, things get bloody fast. The Colors, on the other hand, the seven members of the Spectrum, are often around for decades. And they’re usually pretty smart, so Prisms have been managed more and more over time, given religious duties to fill their days. The Spectrum and the satraps rule together. Each satrapy has one Color on the Spectrum, and each Color is supposed to obey the orders of his or her satrap. In practice, the Colors often become co-satraps in all but name. The jockeying between Color and satrap, and all the Colors and the White, and all the Colors and the White against the Prism, pretty much keeps order. Each satrapy can do what it wants at home as long as it doesn’t rile up any other satrapy and trade keeps flowing, so everyone has an interest in keeping everyone else in check. It’s not quite that simple, of course, but that’s the gist.”