Sons (Book 2) (112 page)

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Authors: Scott V. Duff

BOOK: Sons (Book 2)
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“Here, everybody stand back and let me try something,” I said, calling the Stone forward in my cavern.

“Crap!” Peter exclaimed, turning quickly and nearly running ten yards away.  “Hurry up, you two.  His last two tries at something were quite successful, but violent.”

I chuckled as Kieran and Dad strolled over to Peter.  Ethan and First moved over with them.  Every being on the planet should have known I didn’t want to do this, but I had to try it.  Reading a dead man’s mind is not something I would suggest, especially one who died violently and suffered such trauma beforehand.  It was useful, though, in telling me how the Loa hid in him and how the damage wasn’t obvious.

“The first Loa entered this universe from a point just inside the Pact Lock,” I murmured.  “Lucian didn’t know they were there.”

Working with the Stone’s energy, first I tried simply isolating the casket from the outside energy sources, specifically the ley lines.  There was no affect on the Pact.  Casting a Faraday cage around the casket had similar affect.  Sending my senses into the foam of reality, I roamed the body quickly, finding the goo of forced decay unappealing but noting a few irregularities that made me wonder.  The Lock wasn’t breached at the Loa’s entry point, but there were tears in the tissue along the edges where it would hold physical presence when the gateway between worlds was enacted.  It was almost a gentle invasion from that perspective, but ragged bites in the skeleton told a different story.

“Kieran, do you know when the Loa started attacking Lucian?” I asked as I probed into the Lock further.

“I couldn’t say for certain,” he answered.  “There was too much going on at the time.  It looked to me that they were being indiscriminate in their violence.”

I nodded as I watched the energy flow through the Lock to hold the Pact in place, seeing the lines of force so unlike anything else in the universe wrap around that huge expanse of knowledge and experience.  The Stone hummed slightly so I let it do as it wished while I watched.  First it channeled more power through its current field, then it projected a second field inside the first that pushed against it and the Pact magic.  Slowly the Stone began changing the energy signature of the second field until it hit a point of resonance that caused the Pact magic to vibrate slightly.  The Stone continued changing the signatures, finding two more resonance points.  Once it hit a range of extremely high energy output and the resonance grew out of reach, the Stone collapsed the second field and emitted a disappointed sound in my head.

“No, my friend, that was more telling than you realize,” I murmured to the Stone and called for the Night.  Then more loudly to my family, I said, “This isn’t Lucian and that is not a Pact.  There are pesticides in the decaying goo of his body that shouldn’t exist there.”  I slipped the point of the Night into the base of the skull and cut the bindings on the image of the Pact, releasing it from the body of the fake Lucian.  “And if this were real, I shouldn’t be able to just lift it out.” 

It took a great deal of willpower from me to stop the Night from devouring the massive magic of the fake Pact, but I managed it.  Pulling the Sword free of the skull, the Pact glowed in surreal colors but was deceptively small, about half the size of an index card and only three times as thick. 

“That would kill him and cause the Pact to implode,” Dad said, alarmed.

“First, you are not to repeat anything you hear here,” I said severely.  “This is a family secret that I wasn’t planning on telling you and I don’t plan on explaining anything, either.”

“Yes, Seth,” Jimmy said, accepting the situation at face value.

“It’s definitely not being fed by a soul now,” Kieran said.

“Actually, I think it is,” I said, peering at it.  “I think we’re seeing a reflection of it, of sorts, and a very good one at that, especially considering it’s coming from the inside.  The Stone found three resonance points at high energy levels that shouldn’t have existed.  I think I can break it, but I won’t be able to follow it back to its source.  Or we can lock it up for now and when we want we can set up another resonance at a greater frequency and cause the sender a great deal of pain, I think.”

“I vote for the second,” Dad said immediately, angry suddenly.

“I rather like the sound of that myself,” Kieran said with a smile.

Chapter 54

Um, Mr. McClure?  Are you there?
Ryan Davis called through the diamond I gave him.

Yes, Mr. Davis, what can I do for you?
I asked.  “Do you have twenty-five pork chops that size?”

“No, sir, I’d have to cut sum more,” the butcher replied.

“Good, make it thirty, then, please,” I said, smiling.

I have news on the house, sir
, Davis said nervously. 

“Do you have any prosciutto?” I asked the butcher. 
Your tone doesn’t sound good, Mr. Davis.  Have they declined?

“Yes, sir, down three cases on the second shelf on the righ’,” the butcher replied.

Yes, sir, I’m afraid there were a few minor items we didn’t take into account
, Davis said. 
It’s quite reasonable, unfortunately, but it will raise the cost over your bid by one hundred fifty thousand pounds
.

“That sounds like the taxes I have to pay,” I said and sent across the link.  “Are you in touch with them now?”

Yes, sir, I am
.

“Offer another two hundred, then,” I said.  “I’ve had a bad day and want
something
to go right.  There’s enough in that account to cover the difference.  Just get copies of receipts for all taxes so I don’t pay anything twice. Okay?”

That’s very generous, sir,
Davis said, feeling confused. 
Just a moment and I’ll speak with them.
He put the diamond down on a desk blotter and picked up a desk phone.  He didn’t realize how far my perceptions went through it, though, thinking the gem required physical contact.  I only half-listened to the conversation while I looked for the Italian ham I wanted.

“Nothing makes you feel more like a sot than carrying liquor around on a cart,” Kieran said as he walked up pulling a six-wheeled cart laden with cartons of wine, beer, and liquor.  “Did you decide on a main course?”

“Yep, stuffed pork chops,” I said cheerfully.  “The butcher is cutting them now.  And providing I can find the cheeses.  This is a confusing market.”

“It’s over in that corner,” Kieran said pointing at the opposite corner of the store.  “I passed it looking for the beer and wine.  Is that all we’re going to feed everyone?  Pork chops?”

“No,” I said laughing lightly.  “But vegetables aren’t too much of a problem.”

Mr. McClure?
Davis called again, picking up the diamond. 
They have agreed to the sale.

“Very good, Mr. Davis,” I said.  “How long will it take for the paperwork to go through?”

I should have everything ready for your signature on Thursday morning
, I think, Davis said.

“Cool, thank you, Mr. Davis, I’ll see you on Thursday, then,” I said.

“I think the butcher is trying to get your attention,” Kieran said.  “That, or he’s planning on throwing a cleaver at us.”

“With what they’re charging, you’d think they’d come out from behind their counters,” I muttered as I turned my buggy around and headed back.

“Oy, suh, I can only get twenty-eight,” the butcher grunted at us when we were close enough.  “Will that be ‘nuff?”

“Yes, just less room for error,” I said.  “Kieran, would you mind loading this while I get the cheese?”

We had another pleasant twenty minutes in the market in England shopping for bits and pieces of necessities for my building menu.  Talking about nothing in particular, we touched on a large number of topics that interested both of us and we learned and bonded a little more.  He paid the astoundingly large bill—they didn’t card him for the alcohol, either.

“You said
we
were cooking dinner…” he said once I shifted us to my crowded kitchen.

“What?  We can’t have sous chefs?” I said, grinning.  “Lt. Brinks, how’s the stock for the dumpling soup coming?”  He was stirring a large stockpot on a nearby stove, steam rising into his face.

“Quite nicely, sir,” Brinks called loudly.  “Another twenty minutes or so of reduction and it’ll be ready.”

We moved around the kitchen checking on everything, then started on the main course together.  Peter and Ethan came in early and I put them to work with Ellorn, opening wine in the dining room while Kieran and I went to wash up.  Jimmy escorted my parents from their apartment, but I met them at the door.

The pleasantries of greeting belied the tensions I felt from everybody.  This needed to be done, though, because I needed the back half of the story soon and my parents were the people who knew that side.  So I did what people have been doing in tense situations for centuries.  I plied everyone with alcohol and salty snacks to get them to drink faster.  It had only a faint affect by the time dinner was served, but it was better than nothing.

I started talking during the salad course about what we found out what happened from January until Kieran found me in the forest and Kieran and I were having difficulties explaining Ethan’s nature with the dumpling soup.  But they were both amazed that he “ate” the elven version of mage-fire to save me and still existed to talk about it.  Shrank appeared and flitted about the room, verifying his parts of the story.  The destruction of Colbert’s offices and Kieran and Ethan’s abduction and rescue with Peter took up most of the main course.  They weren’t too happy with Jimmy, though, but I didn’t stress his story yet.

Dinner was excellent, even if the conversation spoiled it somewhat.  The wine flowed freely and even with emotions high, it served to cut some of the tension.  I suggested a short break in the re-telling to let everyone move around and re-oxygenate their blood and limbs.  Everyone pretty much headed for a bathroom.

I was waiting for Mother to come out, idly playing with the plants leaves, when Dad came up beside me with a fresh bottle of beer.  He sighed slightly and quietly said, “I don’t quite understand why you’ve chosen to put so much trust into two people who did you so much harm in the beginning.”

“Ethan never meant to hurt me, Dad,” I answered just as quietly.  “When he first came into this universe, he was barely cognizant and massively hurt, but he still had enough reason to know he would burn me out, too, if he just latched onto me like he did the animals.  I know it seems like he violated me—it felt like that to me, too, in the beginning—but it was all he knew to do.  And frankly, he’s paid a heavy price for it, so I really don’t see how you can hold it against him.”

That shocked him.  “What price, Seth?”

“When his master sent him after Ehran, his world was dying,” I said softly.  “He and his kin were formed to protect his world from intruders and they stood for thousands upon thousands of years.  But they all died on that day.  His only thoughts were then to protect the ‘Way of the Word’ as his master commanded him just before
he
died.  He lost an entire world.  Then he comes here, works desperately hard to help me get the two of you back, but still loses you and Mom in the bargain.  And he feels the same as I do about you.  He’s lost two families in as many months.  So, yeah, Dad, he’s paid a heavy price.”  I was quiet but emotional, verging on angry.

“It broke my heart when he walked into the Cahill’s infirmary and called you ‘Dad’,” I told him.  “He feels pretty much the same emotions that I do, and I gotta tell ya, I don’t know how I’d take it.  Seeing the two of you basically come back from the dead and get treated like a stranger by you?  In so many ways, he’s me, Dad.  Can you imagine what that’s like for him?”

My father stared hard at me for a moment with a look I hadn’t seen from him before.  “No, I really can’t,” he said.  “But he is a stranger to us.  You can’t expect us to just accept him as a son, Seth.”

“Yes, I understand that,” I said, trying to return to relative calm.  “But you could stop treating him like a red-headed stepchild.  Try being a little friendlier to him.  He’s forming his own personality and you might find you actually like him.”

“All right, Seth, I can do that,” Dad said gently.  “Just don’t expect miracles.”

“Good.  Jimmy will make more sense a little later,” I said.  “Then you can be disappointed in me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, son,” Dad said, putting his arm on my shoulders and pulling me close.  Mom came out of the bathroom then and smiled when she saw Dad hugging me.  She glided across the floor to us, sliding in beside me with her arm around my waist.

“Dinner was excellent, dear,” she said.  “Truly exciting dinner conversation, I just wish you weren’t in the middle of the harrowing adventure.  You are planning on continuing a little further, aren’t you?  It’s still early here, isn’t it?”

I smiled down at her and realized I how much I had grown in a very short time.  “Yes, ma’am,” I said.  “I believe I’ve arm-twisted an hour or two out of them.  Ellorn has some drinks setup before the dome.  Would you like to walk?”  Steering gently to the Road before she could answer, I kept going, “The moons will be rising in a few minutes.  It will give us a beautiful view of the valley.” 

Adjusting the Road’s speed as we walked, we chatted aimlessly about several things.  We all disengaged somewhat to make walking and talking easier.  I paced us to ten minutes before we got to the apex of the curve.  Ellorn stood beside the way to the glass dome pouring a mug of coffee from a glass press.

“Coffee, Lord Daybreak?”  Ellorn asked, holding the mug out to me.  “Coffee, Mr. and Mrs. McClure?  Or if you prefer, there are brandies, port, sherry, as well as tea and water available.” 

“Ellorn makes out of this world coffee!” I said, accepting the mug.  Mom asked for a cup of tea and Dad asked for brandy, a name he didn’t expected me to have on hand, so he was little surprised when Ellorn reached under his cart and produced a bottle while the tea was steeping.  We entered the glade before the dome just as the lavender moon crested the mountains to the southeast, passing behind its nearly giant bigger, bluish-gray sister at breakneck speed.  Our perspective made it appear to be a close brush of astronomical bodies, but they were separated by more distance than it appeared from here.  The larger moon lit the valley with a beautiful blue glaze.

My brothers popped out of the woodwork and took up seats around us while Ellorn delivered drinks to everyone.  We settled in, admiring the view for a few more minutes, then Kieran took up the story again with me pitching a snit-fit in the warehouse after shooting the bat-thing.  How he used “snit-fit” and made it sound righteous confused more than just me, but Peter and Ethan both tried to take up for me and couldn’t figure out how.  I caught the irony of his name, though, and started snickering.


Di metta tovoic
, eh, Ehran?” I asked quietly in the Common Tongue, still snickering.  I was calling him a master of doublespeak, a snake-oil salesman.  Dad burst out laughing at the slur, with Ethan and Peter a few beats behind him and much more quietly.  Dad thrust out an accusing finger at Kieran.

“That’s what you were trying to say!” he nearly shouted, laughing.  “You were only nine and just learning the Common Tongue.  I could barely hear you in the forest and your pronunciation was horrible.  Remember?  I bet you don’t!”

“When wasn’t I accusing you of that?” Kieran asked, grinning.  “I believe I actually called you a
metta’s
valet or something.  You talked me into coming to New York on the premise of going to the Met then backed out.  I remember and I’m surprised you do!”

Mother giggled softly.  “Like father, like sons.”

“I pretty much set myself up for that one,” I said quickly to beat them to the jibes, smiling at Mother.

“By definition, my Lord,” Jimmy said in a low rumble, chuckling.  “You’ve been both a valet and a diplomat.”

“At least I’ve done one of those well,” I said, smiling slyly.  “We’ll find out tomorrow about the second.”

“It’s going to work, little brother,” Peter said, sipping on something made with coffee and chocolate and coffee liquers with a hint of cherry.  “Now, Kieran, I believe you were making Seth look like a petulant child at the gates to the Games…”

“Ah, yes,” Kieran said taking the hint to carry on.  “Shrank played a big part as advance guard.”  The pixie darted through the planter and lit on his shoulder in a small puff of golden sparkles.  He nestled into Kieran’s shirt collar and listened with the rest of us.  Kieran talked all the way through to the dinner and St. Croix’s challenge.  Ethan took the next part, surprising us.  We hadn’t expected him to take part at all really.  And his perspective on events was interesting to hear.  His attention span was fairy-like at times, flitting from one thing to another quickly and randomly, and at others, amazingly fixed and orderly.  His description of the argument between Kieran and me about fighting in the Arena was told as an amusing character study for both of us.  He even pointed out that particular interest in how we looked to outsiders.  He carried through all the way to the field and stopped, turning it over to me, skipping over Peter.

I spoke clearly and quickly about the battle, describing how Kieran and Ethan were immediately pinned down with destroying the mass of regenerating Loa creatures.  Time had made the fight easier to talk about for us, but Mother was still very uncomfortable hearing of her father’s death.  She knew she was the center of attention, even as everyone watched me as I spoke.  The relief as I passed that point was obvious and moved on to Peter’s near-death experience.  Mother transferred her worry for me killing St. Croix to Pete.  Ethan and I entered a rapid fire retelling about the Loa and healing Peter, then finding a way into his psyche to rebuild his linkages to mind and magic.  Ethan and Kieran interjected softly with the faery interference, intentionally talking over me and giving a feeling of the way it was.

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