It was a cold wind which swept across the Lake of Zurich, yet Serena showed no sign of it.
and she was leaning over the cliff-balcony of the estate, in which her coat was blown about, and the Orpheus drive deposited in an untraceable pocket.
The stars in the heavens were shining so brightly as they ought not to have done as though they were looking on, waiting.
Daniel joined her, silent for a moment.
“You did it,” he said finally.
“No,” she replied, eyes on the dark water. “I started it.”
Inside, the four power brokers who had once backed the Foundation sat in tense conversation. The alliance was forming—not based on loyalty, but shared interest, risk, and retribution.
Volkov emerged a moment later. His presence was as cold and kingly as that which reduced men of twice his bulk to
