122 THE GHOSTS OF ZALIRA
Quest Snow nodded. "Yes — it was a sizable contract bound for Silver City. Since we're not supplying Fortress Myrone anymore, I thought it better to sell the surplus than halt production. My factories can't sit idle forever."
Garius Zetheris leaned forward. "We also delivered a large order of elixirs and dical compounds to them last week. Is there a problem?"
Valtor's voice grew darker. "We, too, sold several shipnts of weapons and machinery to the Aukoumas — to help fund our blockade against Myrone."
A cold silence settled across their private booth.
Garius's expression twisted. "Wait… are you saying—"
Valtor finished for him. "—that the Aukouma family's been using our own supplies to resell to Fortress Myrone and rebuilding its strength."
Quest's eyes widened. "That can't be true."
Garius slamd his fist on the table, rattling glasses. "It fits too perfectly! They bought our stock under the guise of Silver City contracts, then sold it to Myrone at high prices in return for these materials that they auction at ten tis the normal price!"
Valtor cursed. "We've been played. Every one of us."
"That is the reason Fortress Myrone doesn't bother to negotiate with us. They don't even chase us for shipnts anymore?"
"Where the hell is that Arom Aukouma?" Garius growled.
"He's in Silver City," Quest muttered. "At least… that's what we were told."
Valtor's eyes narrowed. "Or maybe he never left. Maybe this whole Silver City shipnt was a front — a smokescreen while they supplied Myrone behind our backs."
For a mont, none of them spoke. The air was thick with fury, fear and conspiracy.
Finally, Garius leaned back, his voice low and dangerous. "If Zolan Aukouma thinks he can mock the houses and walk away unscathed, he's gravely mistaken. We'll remind him why the noble families rule the cities — not rchants and their filthy trades."
-----
"My good son," Zolan Aukouma said with a proud gleam in his eyes, "do you know how much money we've earned in the past month from selling materials from Fortress Myrone?"
Zairgid smiled faintly. "Enough to make the major families start asking questions. After the last auction, I'm sure they're already suspicious of us."
"Let them suspect," Zolan said dismissively, waving his hand. "We've already built alternate supply lines — the essentials we produce ourselves now. As for the less critical items, we'll buy them quietly from the other cities. The noble houses can choke on their own greed for all I care."
Zairgid hesitated. "What about Uncle Arom? Won't he expose our plans?"
"I've already seen to that," Zolan said calmly. "He's under house arrest. Consider it punishnt for scheming behind my back. He'll stay there until I say otherwise."
"Should we release him soon?" Zairgid asked.
"Not yet," Zolan replied after a thoughtful pause. "At least not until after the General eting. When it's ti, I'll announce you as the new CEO of Aukouma Industries."
Zairgid blinked in surprise. "Will the other directors even agree to that?"
"They will," Zolan said with quiet confidence, "once they see the profit reports you've generated this month. Numbers are the only loyalty they understand."
Zairgid exhaled and nodded slowly.
He hadn't wanted this — not the title, not the politics — but fate had its own way of binding him. Whether he wished it or not, this was the role laid out before him.
He leaned back in his chair, staring toward the window and imagined the twin suns sinking into the desert horizon.
"Where the hell are you, Dan?" he murmured. "You've been gone a month."
-----
The sandstorms had finally passed, leaving a scorched silence over the desert. Dan trudged onward, Eryn slumped against his back.
His skin now transford into dark blue armor shimring faintly beneath the sun, and cracked in places, its living tal pulsing like wounded flesh trying to nd.
Since assimilating Zalira's Blue Blood Core, his body had begun to change. Beneath his skin, threads of ta-tal scales were forming — growing denser each day.
"This is strange… after absorbing Zalira's core, my body's transforming into an Annunakin form
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