He cursed himself, the l’auraly, the crystals, and other significant chunks of the universe, including the anonymous ship above. And his princess. The way she’d looked at him, devastated, the light gone from her citrine eyes. From the very first, she’d been willing to fight. Fight for her planet, fight the invaders, fight him. Even draped in that shredded crystal, with the marks of her bondage hardwired in her skin, she’d forged onward. Until he’d broken the crystal. Broken her. Yes, her hand had been on the other end of the torque when it shattered, but he’d been the one to drive her to that point. And now he was charging through the dark, ostensibly to prevent the crystal compulsion of the universe, and he knew he would burn worlds, tangle the sheerways, enslave the stars themselves just to make her smile again. The universe should be very, very thankful he hadn’t any such power. In fact, he had only an old man, a boy, and two young girls, plus a distant hidden ship to set this world to rights.
