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them?"
    "There aren't many who could make entire space stations disappear," Logan said. "The ships, maybe, but the Harukin and Koji stations weren't small installations."
    It was certainly within the Devourers' power. Logan remembered the brutal efficiency with which they had ruined his well-armed and armored Raptor. And he had been prepared. A space station taken by surprise would not stand a chance against the Devourers' superior weaponry and ruthless aggression.
    "Now what do we do?" Gripper asked. "Do you know where to go yet?"
    "Not yet," said Logan. "I usually know more about my mark than this, about their crimes and goals."
    "But Xartasia was a Nihilist," Gripper protested. "You know all about them!"
    "Xartasia was never a true Nihilist. She was using Gavriel and his followers to get what she wanted. Gavriel never really knew her, and neither do we."
    Logan pushed his plate away and kept reading. Gripper swallowed hard and did the same.
    ________
     
    Xartasia sat on her black throne, white skirts spread around her like the petals of a flower. The points of her glass crown glittered brightly under the lights. Dhozo stood behind her, arms crossed over his huge chest. His nanite armor swirled and billowed like smoke, deceptively delicate as the tiny machines gathered and transmitted a constant stream of information.
    A group of Arcadians knelt at the foot of the dais. The knight in front wore shining glass armor. Calathan had long, braided blond hair and dark, intelligent blue eyes. He reminded Xartasia just enough of her beloved Anthem to make her rather fond of him.
    Calathan's otherwise handsome face was marred by angry, puckered red scars left by a raging Lyran. The coreworlder was long dead, but the mark of his claws remained. And the anger that drove Calathan still. He had been a Nihilist, one of Gavriel's oldest converts from the cult's early days on Prianus. Even now, Calathan wore black and red scarves and wrappings beneath the glass platemail Xartasia had given him.
    "We have the Devourers now, Your Majesty," Calathan said. "Yet we have passed by a dozen Alliance planets, attacking only the outlying fringes! You have at your wingtips the very definition of destruction, my queen. Why do you use it with such restraint?"
    The scarred knight's tone was respectful, but there was a current of true and deep need beneath. Xartasia looked up at Dhozo, but the Devourer's face was hidden behind his swarming black armor. Still, she knew that the hulking monster felt much the same as Calathan. Maybe more… It was only by Xartasia's orders that the Devourers did not begin their feast with the growing number of Arcadians that followed her.
    "I am not Gavriel," Xartasia said imperiously. "Our design is far greater than simple destruction. Restrain yourself, Sir Calathan."
    The knight in black conferred quietly with the other Arcadians. When he turned back to Xartasia, his eyes were fever-bright. "But why, Your Majesty? What can there be for us anymore? Is death not all that remains?"
    "Your glass-shelled morsel has a point, little queen," Dhozo rasped unpleasantly. "We could consume any of these planets in a matter of days."
    Xartasia rose gracefully to her feet and spread her long white wings. "No," she told Calathan and Dhozo both. "What we have lost, we will regain. You want the secrets that your people have lost, Dhozo, the secrets of magic and the Waygates. And we shall have the White Kingdom, our home and heart, once again."
    There was a rising scale of surprise from the knights. Calathan's scarred face lit up with almost childish delight. "The White Kingdom, my queen?" he asked. "We will return?"
    "When our work is done. When your work is done, Sir Calathan."
    "Yes, Your Highness." He swept one trembling wing across his chest. "What are your orders?"
    ________
     
    "It sure looks like it could be them," Duaal said. He slid the datadex back across the table to Logan with a thought. "But it's still not proof. We can't