"How far have you advanced in your studies?" Lissa asked, watching Trik work his way around the veal on his plate by cutting it with the edge of a fork. Trik had given up years ago on any hope of holding a knife and fork at the same moment.
"I have read all of grandfather's history books—he doesn't have anything newer than sixty turns ago," Trik said, nibbling the piece of veal. He waited until he'd chewed his bite and swallowed before continuing. "The mathematics books are probably outdated as well, but likely are still good unless there have been new advances. If so, I would certainly like to see the new materials. I wish I had a comp-vid, but grandfather doesn't allow them in the house."
"Do you ever want to practice wizardry?" Another male—dark-haired and gray-eyed, asked from farther down the table.
Wizardry. Trik longed for that more than he longed for anything. Yet his hand—his grandfather had refused to consider wizardry for Trik because of his hand. Trik sighed.
"Don't tell us what others think," Lissa said quietly beside him. "Tell us what you think. What you want."
"I've always wanted it," Trik dropped his fork and lowered his good hand to his lap. "But I don't have two good hands."
"How do you feel about coming to live with strangers?" Lissa asked.
"I think it might be worth a try." Trik found almost anything more appealing than a sterile existence at a state-run facility.
"Trik, if you agree to do your best, I will agree to do my best in this matter." Lissa's blue eyes met his.
"Then I will do my best. If you wish for me to work to help earn my keep, then I will do what I can."
"Then we may put you to work," Lissa nodded. "Don't worry, everything we put in front of you will be within your ability and hopefully to your liking." Lissa patted Trik's shoulder.
"But what about your children?" Trik hadn't failed to notice those four. He hoped they wouldn't tease him or take his things away the moment the adults' backs were turned.
"Ask them."
Trik jerked his head up. "Now? Here?"
"Of course." Lissa smiled. Trik drowned in that smile.
"Don't worry, I think everybody wants you to come," Nissa leaned her head over her plate so Trik could see here easily.
"If you don't like it," Trik lowered his eyes again, "you can always take me to the home."
Trik, the voice came into his mind, shocking him speechless, I don't think that will be necessary.
* * *
"Don't worry, I'm new, too." Toff came to sit on the sofa next to Trik's motorized chair. "I've only been with them a few weeks. I—I love all of them already. Just be prepared for some of them to be, well, different."
"I know about different," Trik blew out a breath. "I've dealt with it all my life." He stared at his withered, useless leg.
"I think you have a better education than I do, and you've taught yourself," Toff went on. "I'm trying to catch up with my studies. Master Morwin is very patient."
"Master Morwin?"
"Our tutor," Ry came to sit next to Toff. Trik watched as the tallest of the males, Tory, sat beside Ry. Nissa was talking quietly with the black-haired, gray-eyed man in the corner.
"We'll have the same tutor?"
"I think so," Tory said. "I think they'll put you in our class," Tory pointed to himself and Ry.
"He won't be—is he—will he?" Trik couldn't think of a way to ask if Morwin would mistreat him because he wasn't whole.
"Hmmph. Wait until you meet him," Ry grinned. "He has bushy red eyebrows that wiggle when he talks. Don't ever point that out or you'll get extra homework for a week."
"What's taking so long?" Toff asked Nissa as she wiggled her way onto the sofa beside him. Toff put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her.
"Legal stuff—Marid wants to sign all rights over. Mom keeps asking him if he's sure he wants to give up the rights to his grandson. She's telling him that once he does it, he can't ever come back for any reason, even if he wants to. She's offering to let Trik keep the Belancour name if Marid still wants to consider him family."
"Let him sign it," Trik grumbled. He wasn't surprised that Marid wanted to get rid of him completely. Marid always considered Trik to be a useless mouth to feed.
* * *
"Ready?" Lissa looked tired but still she smiled at Trik. They gathered in the reception room again, Trik with them. Trik had only been transported this way twice in his life. His mother and grandfather could do it; they just seldom had seen fit to take him anywhere. Not that he didn't want to go; he did. They just hadn't wanted to take him along. Everything went dark for a moment, and then he found himself in a brightly lit space.
"Where are we?" Trik's heart stuttered and he stared in surprise. He'd landed in the rotunda of what looked to be—it couldn't be. He was inside an enormous library. They'd just looked for a place large enough to land all of them safely, he surmised. After all, there were at least twenty around him.
"Greetings, young one, this is the Palace of the Queen of Le-Ath Veronis," someone stepped forward to greet them. "Lissa, the Council meeting was a little bumpy today."
"That's Aurelius. Gavin's sire," Ry bent down to whisper to Trik as Trik stared at the golden-haired bear of a man who stood before him.
"What's the problem now?" Lissa really did sound tired.
"Lissa, I suggest you get something to eat and sit down to discuss this with Aurelius," Karzac said. "Connegar and Reemagar can go with the young ones."
"Why is Lissa discussing a Council meeting?" Trik looked up at Ry.
"He doesn't know," Ry grinned and elbowed Tory, who'd come to stand next to Trik's chair.
"Mom's the Queen," Nissa and Toff came to stand on Trik's other side. "And my Dad is Shadow Grey of Grey House," Nissa continued when Trik stared at her in shock. "Dad says you have talent, but until you go through the rite, he can't say how much for sure."
"But before that takes place, young one," Connegar grew before Trik's eyes and his skin turned blue, "Reemagar and I will see about healing as much of this as we can."
Trik couldn't speak for minutes as Connegar, a real, blue-skinned Larentii, lifted him from his motorized chair and folded him and the other teens into a spacious suite.
* * *
"It'll take a while to do all of it, and the muscles will have to be exercised," Ry said as he and the others admired what the Larentii had done with Trik's hand.
"Mom says that there are hospitals and clinics all over the Alliance that could have done this easier when you were a baby, but since Shaaliveer isn't an Alliance world, then your family would have had to pay for the medical care. It can be expensive," Nissa said.
Trik couldn't believe it, either. Right away, they'd done this—his right hand looked normal. Connegar said that he and Reemagar would come back in a week, when Trik had time to get used to it and exercise his hand every day, before they attempted to do more. After about a month, his right hand and arm would look exactly like the left. Then they would start on his leg. He'd always heard the Larentii were powerful beings, but until today, he'd imagined that they might not be quite real.
"Want your chair or do you want Tory to skip us to dinner?" Nissa asked. Toff had both arms around Nissa as she leaned against him.
"I think I'll do the chair, but only because I want to see the palace," Trik breathed.
"And you don't have to room with us unless you want to," Tory said. "But we like having Toff with us. If you're here, we can plot and plan without having to sneak into your bedroom."
"And after the Larentii are done with you, you'll come to train at Grey House," Nissa said. "It'll be so nice to have someone there who's a friend and close to my age."
"They'll train me?" Trik's voice was almost a squeak.
"Yes. Like I said, Daddy told me they'd check your ability when you go through the rite. Great-Grampa Glendes will probably do it himself."
"Glendes of Grey House is your great-grandfather." Trik's voice held awe tinged with a bit of alarm.
<
br /> "Yeah, why?"
"Marid complains about him constantly. Says he takes away Belancour business."
"We have all the business we can handle. We send the excess out to other houses," Nissa sniffed.
"No, no, I didn't mean it that way. Grandfather just gets grumpy at times," Trik said. He was still in shock at the sudden change in fortunes for him. Finally, the wind seemed to be blowing in the proper direction.
"Young ones, are you ready to come to dinner?" A tall, dark-haired man appeared in the doorway.
"Uncle Rigo, this is Trikleer," Nissa made the introduction.
"Most pleased to meet you, young sir," Rigo nodded to Trik.
"Uncle Rigo used to be King of Hraede," Nissa said conversationally as Trik steered his chair through the suite he now shared with Tory, Ry and Toff.
"Am I missing something here?" Trik was completely confused.
"Do you know about Le-Ath Veronis?" Ry turned and smiled over his shoulder.
"My history books didn't cover it," Trik replied.
"Then we'll bring you up to date," Tory laughed, reaching over to flick Ry's ear.
"Here we go," Nissa grumbled, rolling her eyes. Toff burst out laughing when Ry wet a finger in his mouth and stuck it in Tory's ear before running down the lengthy marble corridor.
* * *
"Toff, you have a visitor." Toff couldn't fathom why he'd been called to Lissa's study after dinner, but now he knew. Corent sat in one of Lissa's chairs, waiting for him.
"Father!" Toff rushed toward Corent and Corent lifted him up, hugging him hard.
"I missed you, son," Corent smiled at Toff as he set him down again. Corent's hair was a blue-green—clouds must be moving in, Toff thought as he smiled up at his foster-father.
"I missed you, too."
"Toff, why don't you take Corent to the arboretum upstairs," Lissa suggested.
"All right." The arboretum would be perfect—it held all kinds of plants and trees. Toff hadn't ever seen the gardeners that tended it, but they had to be good—the plants were all thriving.
"Do you like it here?" Corent asked as they walked up the last flight of stairs to get to the arboretum.
"Father, I do. I mean no disrespect to you or my foster-mother, but I feel at home here. Nobody bullies me or calls me names. And I learned that my lack of, well, that my lack is normal for what I am. I jump in the pool here with Tory and Ry and they don't even look."
"Child, I should have told you that long ago, but Redbird thought it would confuse you. I see now that it was a mistake. Those children in the village were being taught to ridicule by their parents, who had less understanding than they should." Toff merely hunched his shoulders at Corent's words. Nothing could take away the emotional bruising he'd received at the hands of his peers in the Fae village.
"Father, what can you tell me about these trees?" Toff decided to break away from the subject of his past once they walked into the arboretum. The enormous, indoor garden was beautiful, with sunlamps hanging everywhere inside the glass enclosure. From the outside, Toff thought the arboretum looked like something from an old tale of castles and such, sitting atop the palace as it did and always lit from within.
"These trees I haven't seen before," Corent went to touch the first of many. "I was born on Vionn, you know."
"Then you would have been left behind, if the Fulls had gone on when the threat came."
"Yes. My mother didn't want to leave me to whatever fate awaited, so they devised an alternate plan. That turned out to be a mistake. I could have melted into the forests with the others—the Vionnu army would have had a difficult time tracking us."
"Then why was Mother Rain worried?"
"She was afraid that Tiearan would move on to another world and not go back. She did not want to leave me on Vionn. So here we are, son, our lives changed forever because of decisions others made."
"But why did Mother Rain think it wouldn't bring harm to someone else?"
"She knew it would, but she thought it was only temporary harm. Redbird decided to make it permanent."
"I can't understand that, father."
"I don't understand it either, child. Father Willow says to tell you hello and that he misses your hard work. He is having difficulties getting the others interested in throwing hay to his cows." Toff and Corent spent about an hour going from tree to tree and plant to plant, talking while Corent put his hands on this tree or that, closing his eyes to give it a bit of his power.
Toff always liked watching Corent work—the Half-Fae loved the living things he touched. Toff walked with Corent to the palace gate later, a guard following discreetly behind. Toff hadn't realized until then that he was guarded just as closely as the Queen's natural children.
"Toff, take care and enjoy your life," Corent squeezed Toff's shoulders before walking through the gate and away from Toff. Toff felt a sadness he couldn't describe as Corent walked away from him. As if Corent were saying good-bye for all time.
* * *
Lissa's Journal
"No, I will never tell that child who his father is," I grumped. I wasn't feeling very well right then and Norian was irritating me. I considered barfing on his shoes.
"Even if he asks you someday? As an adult?" Norian was Director of the ASD at the moment, not my mate. Hence the annoyance. He'd been shocked by the information I gave him, but didn't doubt its veracity. I could smell parentage in the blood. My nose was better than any DNA test Norian had ever seen, and he employed it as often as he could. Some days—actually most days—being Liaison to the ASD was aggravating in the extreme.
"Norian, let him grow up without that taint, all right? If he's stable and happy as an adult one day, then sure, we can tell him. But as long as I have my doubts about his mental state if we pass that information along, then no, it stays with us."
"Do you think the ASD's new most wanted even realizes he has a child?"
"I find that highly unlikely," I retorted. "But if he did, and if there was the slightest chance he'd try to get him back, well, you see how that could go wrong in a hurry."
"How do you think it happened?" Norian settled onto my sofa and patted the seat next to him. I frowned at my lion snake shapeshifter mate for a moment before settling beside him. Norian ran gentle fingers over my forehead. I considered punching him, while wondering if pregnancy affected every woman the same way.
"I don't know what you have in your files on all this, Norian. But Melida supposedly was pregnant with her husband's child before he was killed on Cloudsong."
"I have that information," Norian nodded. "I also have records that say she miscarried."
"Except she didn't."
"What?"
"Oh, she probably wanted to miscarry, but she didn't. We all assumed that Findal, Melida's husband, approached Black Mist. I don't think he did. I think Zellar may have approached Melida on Black Mist's behalf, offering all sorts of promises to her and Findal if they'd get Black Mist what they wanted, which was Brandelin's death."
"Sounds as though he offered her something else, too."
"Yep. Maybe she did that whole miscarriage thing just to throw Zellar off the track in case he got suspicious. Either way, we both know she showed up at Grey House already pregnant and she wouldn't let Cleo touch her when she didn't feel well. Cleo would have known. Heck, Selkirk probably would have too, just by putting his hands on her. She had a really good illusion spell going, I think, to fool them. I saw the records—Trik was born two months after Grey House sent her packing."
"You think Marid knows? Who the father is?"
"I hope not. I don't want Trik hurt or upset by any of this. I think he's had a hard enough life so far. He doesn't need any more trouble."
"When are you going to tell Toff that his father is still alive?"
"When I think he's ready," I sighed.
"Just lean back, breah-mul, and close your eyes. You've had a long day." I settled into the crook of Norian's arm and did just that.
* * *
Tory had gone to the kitchen for a snack. And then, deciding to sneak past his mother's study just to see why the light was shining underneath the door so late, he'd skipped close to her door so she wouldn't hear his footsteps. Tory only caught the last bit of conversation between his mother and Norian. Tory couldn't wait to tell Ry and Sissy what he'd heard.
* * *
"Why did you haul me out of bed, you lumbering ox?" Ry would have hit Tory with a pillow if he still had one within reach. He didn't—Tory had skipped Ry right to the top of their mother's palace.
"I have to tell you what I heard, and I can't let anyone else hear," Tory hissed.
"All right, what did you hear? And this better be good, I was asleep."
"I skipped right beside Mom's study, and she was talking to Uncle Norian," Tory whispered. "Mom said Toff's father is still alive."
"What?" Ry's shocked reply had Tory clapping a hand over his brother's mouth.
"You heard me—she said she was waiting to tell him when he's ready."
"Holy cow," Ry's voice was now a whisper, too. "Who do you think it is?"
"Well, do you think there are any records or anything? Mom said Toff was two or so when the Fae took him, so his dad's accident, whatever that was, had to happen before then. You think we can get into Uncle Gavin and Uncle Tony's records? They keep everything that happens in the palace."
"We'll have to get Uncle Drake and Uncle Drew's, too—they have everything that happened outside the palace."
"Come on, let's get back inside—it's freezing up here." Tory skipped them back inside their bedroom.
* * *
I'm not kidding, Sissy. That's what I heard. Tory's mindspoken admission to his sister the next day shocked Nissa just as much as it had her brothers. Do you think your dad will tell you anything?
I don't know. Besides, he's likely to tell Mom if I ask. I don't want to get in trouble and I don't want to upset Toff. What if his father is a bad person? Maybe that's why we haven't been told.
Blood Reunion Page 17
