Sons (Book 2)

by Scott V. Duff

  “Yes, I can do that,” Kieran responded calmly.

  “After playing in the lake with the boys,” I added. “No reason to ruin your fun.”

  “And they are a lot of fun,” Peter said.

  “Don’t let them threaten or cajole you into anything, either,” I said. “I have more than the Hinterlands to discuss with them. They’ve been naughty, mighty naughty, in a number of ways and they will have to be properly chastised.”

  “What? What did the Queens do now?” Ethan asked. More, I think, to get into the conversation than to know anything.

  “A number of things, like let some knowledge of the Pact run rampant through the sidhe, hiding knowledge of the twins from me, dumping their social and political responsibilities, I could go on for awhile.” Glancing quickly up at the boys, they hadn’t moved much in their sleep, just rolled over onto their backs.

  “Until the twins are announced, I’ll be unavailable to everyone,” I said. “First and Ellorn are handling my communications except for them and my room is sealed off. Only Gibson and Guitar can open the side doors. You guys can pretty much come and go as you please, just knock or call to one of them. Or me, you don’t use the geas, so you can’t be diverted that way.”

  “Playing in the pond is a good start,” Kieran said. “I’ll need to see to our Dad for awhile, then visit with the Royal Serenities.” Ethan snickered at the reference.

  “I have an appointment Monday morning at the Pentagon to follow up on the crap I gave them to do,” I kept rolling. “Which should amount to diddly with Dominick’s sabotage and subsequent murder. Personally, I think the problems on this side of the ocean will either end abruptly or slow to a drip. The Pentagon will slowly bubble away as an issue. Um, if we were on the right planet, I guess we’d be in the US.” I took a slow swallow, finally breaking the halfway point of the glass, to cover my rising blush and grin at my misspeak. My brothers chuckled at it, though they probably wouldn’t have noticed, taking the idiom for granted.

  “And I’m done being the instructor general for the Accords,” I said darkly. “If Bishop hasn’t finally taken the clue, I’ll give it to Darius instead. And speaking of, I forgot to mention the druids tried to feign ignorance of the Accords.” That brought pairs of eyes up, dancing with humor.

  Ethan took the bait. “My turn to guess the results,” he said, throwing one arm over the chair back and swigging off his beer bottle. “I’d say he offered to prune them off the Accords, then described the consequences using his usual flare. The druids declined his polite offer to be stripped of their power and accepted the consequences of their foolish actions.”

  Draining the rest of the watered-down liquor, I set the glass down on the table and mirrored his pose somewhat. “And?”

  “There’s more?” he asked grinning, his head shooting up. “You must’ve offered a sample, then. To the top three?” I nodded, keeping my face still. “And one of them cracked, didn’t they? A little too old on the job and ready for retirement?”

  “On the penny,” I said with a tight-lipped smile. “Mr. White took over his position temporarily and could fully empower the man’s circles. They are very different societally than the Hilliards and will be a different challenge. One I hope to pawn off on someone else soon enough.”

  “You don’t think they might be useful at some time in the future?” asked Peter.

  “I’m not cutting them loose at sea, Pete. I’m just not going to handhold them through life. I have my own problems to deal with. They’ve survived for hundreds of years in total secrecy, now they have a little less. We’ll be friendly unless they fight about the blood rites. Don’t see that happenin’, though.

  “’Nother ‘later’, though,” I added. “I suspect we have a larger problem looming on the horizon. It’s not a new problem, by any means, but the root of the one we’ve been fighting all along.” I stood up tiredly, grabbing my glass and motioning towards Peter’s. “You want another?”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled and pushed his glass across the table. Simply looking across at Ethan and Kieran told me to bring more beer, too. I went casually, but at Daybreak speed and was back before Ethan drained his quarter-full bottle completely. A twist of power popped the tops of the two beers as I handed them to Ethan. Then I sat down and slid Pete his glass. I enjoyed a bit of my errand before continuing.

  “Kieran, I think one of our ‘laters’ has come to a head,” I said directly, looking across the table. “Pete wants to talk with me tonight and I think this conversation is beating him to the punch. Because one of those ‘laters’ is sitting in the Sundered Realms pulling strings and manipulating things and people in Faery and on Earth. It’s trying to destroy both and it’s doing a good job, by the looks of it. It’ll take a century or two, but it’ll get there.”

  Kieran looked lost and helpless, as if the same spell that had afflicted me also held sway on him, that fabulous Tower of Babel, so very much more selective than I could ever attain.

  “When did your first glimpse it, Pete?” I asked turning to him. “The Arena?” Peter nodded, swallowing a gulp of whiskey. “Then again, this afternoon?” I asked more quietly this time.

  “Not really even a glimpse before you shot back out again,” Peter hoarsely whispered, anxious and disturbed, and he knew why. “Just hazy partial images as I looked through the hole, but I know what I saw, what I was looking at. It’s less than it was but that isn’t saying much.”

  Taking a good-sized sip of blended whiskey, I considered Peter’s assessment of our enemy. I wasn’t so sure it was “less somehow.” Just as likely it didn’t puff up to look as dangerous because I wasn’t as dangerous as the Twice-Dead God. Expecting him to be “less” of anything was borrowing trouble. Peter and I seemed to be able to push past the Tower of Babel spell’s influence, now I had to dare to stand up to it.

  “So, I guess what I’m saying here, Kieran,” I said. “Is that we need more information about our enemy. Ethan saw its influence first and it was exactly what you expected. I’ve never been able to tell anyone about this before but he yanked me out of Ethan’s memory just by looking at me!” I did it, finally! “I’m very familiar with those infuriating moments of absolute aphasia. Trust me. Where do you think the idea for my Tower of Babel spell came from?”

  “Actually,” Kieran said, half-heartedly while Peter muttered, “Well, I knew, I just couldn’t say anything.”

  “Yeah, there’s that,” I admitted.

  “Is that why I keep forgetting that week?” Ethan asked nervously.

  “He did something when he healed you, yeah,” I said, turning back to Kieran. “The point is, Kieran, that the next available day between Monday and whichever day the Queens choose–that makes either Tuesday or Wednesday–the four of us will sit down and have a long discussion. In this discussion, you will tell us all about your teacher and his enemy. It’s time for us to know all we can about Des’Ra’El, the Twice-Dead God.”

  Kieran stood suddenly in astonishment, staring at me. “How can you know that name?”

  I shrugged, “He knows mine, Kir du’Ahn. Why shouldn’t I know his?” I guess he didn’t remember telling me in New York some weeks ago.

  “And mine,” Peter added, leaning back in his chair.

  Kieran leaned on the table, visibly shaken. He looked up at me, his emerald eyes shining and piercing. “I’ll push the Queens for Wednesday or after. See you guys in the morning, then.” Then he turned and walked out through the buffer, reminding me to bring it down.

  “You throw some interesting dinner parties,” Ethan said and downed half his beer. “See y’all in the morning. G’night.” Then he followed after Kieran.

  “The Road’s on again, Ethan,” I shouted after him, knowing Kieran would hear, too. Sipping my drink, I looked to Peter and sighed. “Do you wish you hadn’t answered the phone that night? Just cranked the music up higher?”

  He snickered briefly. “You know the answer to that as well as I do, Seth,” he said easily. �
�Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few very quick errands to run before I fall down. You should go to bed. You’ve had a hard day, little brother.” He stood up and drained his glass dry, rattling the ice around noisily. “It’s actually a relief knowing I’m finally going to know something about the Twice-Dead God. It’s a relief even to be able to say that much. Good night, Seth.”

  “Good night, Pete, and thanks, again, for everything,” I said, turning to look at the night sky as he left. The starscape was glorious and bright. Shifting to the doorway of my bedroom afforded me a better view of the dome without the trees and tall bushes. I drained my glass, sent it to the table below and started getting ready for bed. Crawling up carefully up the bed, I slipped under the light blanket between the boys and laid down. Almost immediately, they sensed my presence and rolled into my sides, putting their heads on my chest and each throwing an arm around me. I was NOT used to sleeping this close to people and I wondered if I might subconsciously throw one or both into the lake below just because I got hot during the night.

  When my arms crossed their shoulders, though, I knew better. They were my boys, my sons now, consciously, subconsciously, and unconsciously. Mine. And I relaxed and let the whiskey and long day do their jobs. I relaxed and let sleep start with the knowledge that in four or five days, I’d finally know why the Twice-Dead God haunted me and what Des’Ra’El wanted with Little Brother.

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