Sons (Book 2) (137 page)

“I was able to place the geas without invading his mind, thankfully, or I’d never be able to break it.  He’s completely walled off from everybody as it is.  Though it’s probable current thoughts and emotions will be felt by the
Saun
and me.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but why is it good that you couldn’t invade his mind?” Ethan asked perplexed.

“Dad is over fifteen hundred years old,” I told them, widening some eyes.  “I’m basing this on brief memory fragments and the size of his memory.”  The fragment played as a flicker off to the side.  I pushed my memory of my encounter with Dad’s consciousness out between Kieran and Ethan, too, for comfort’s sake.  “Not that it matters, even eight hundred was far too old.”  I paused, watching Peter’s progress to the soldiers in the real world for a quarter-second while I tried to figure out how to explain this.  “The quick answer is that the human mind is too brittle after a certain point in life to accept something like a faery geas.  In humans, that’s roughly about fifty, so, yes, I did foresee some homogenization of personalities within the Guard and it does seem to have happened.  With older candidates, say sixty-year-olds, there is a distinct possibility of psychosis brought on by complete sublimation to the geas.  Within two years, it’s a guarantee.”

“You don’t mean that the Guard will slowly go crazy, do you?” Peter asked, concerned for the men.

“No,” I replied.  “This regards only a new geas, not aging through it.  There’s no problem with the
Ransé
living long and sane lives.”  I looked back to Kieran expectantly, waiting for him to voice his objections.  He stared at the glow around Dad that protected him from being read from the
Saun
and other
Ransé
.  It hit me then, why Kieran objected so hard.  He was jealous and it hurt his feelings.

“Kieran,” I said to gain his attention.  “I’m sorry, but this had to be me.  You couldn’t have done it without a land to support you and people to help.  Actually, I’m a bit jealous.  I’m gonna have to limit my time around him while he’s recuperating.  You’ll spend more time with him than I will.”

His eyes lost some of their sharpness.  “I’m being childish, aren’t I?” he asked quietly.  “Expecting you to work miracles in Pact magic that I couldn’t do and here, you’ve gone and done one in faery magic.  I’m sorry, little brother.  I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you.  I know you’re doing your best.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have let Dad handle Lucian in the first place,” I said guiltily.  “Or at least been quicker in figurin’ he wasn’t handling it as well as I thought he was.”

“We were all here, Seth,” Ethan reminded me.  “I thought he was doing okay, too.”

“Pete’s up now,” Kieran said grimly.  “Don’t go too hard on them.”

Peter met them halfway up the path, giving them a little height on the incline.  Kieran and Ethan watched while I waved Creely around with me to check on Murrik.  Peter started simply, “The terms of your surrender are simple: you will do what we want, period.  Is that understood?”

The men were startled by Peter’s directness, expecting introductions or something, I guess.  The man in the center stammered, “W-we’re n-not all convinced w-we should s-surren-d-der.”  English was a second language for him, obviously.

“Then go back to your men and prepare to die,” Peter said and turned to walk back down the path.  “You lost over four hundred men in the first attack against just two of us.  Our brothers will be joining us now.”

“Surrender, damn it!  Surrender!  He’s not kidding!” the wizard wheedled the center man hoarsely.  “I saw them work once!  I saw them at the Games.  The four of them killed a hundred and fifty monsters in two minutes flat.  This one got run over by a huge fucking goat-thing and lived.  Then the youngest one threw the two meanest, nearly the most powerful beings in Faery over the sides of the Arena, literally over the sides—”  I didn’t understand the pantomime motion he made.

“Yes, yes, we surrender,” the center man said urgently to Peter.  “Doesn’t make sense to keep dying with Murrik gone anyway.”  Peter turned back and the rest of us relaxed.  Waving Creely around, I knelt down beside Murrik’s body to find him alive, behind a pale shield of energy at the edge of his aura.  Mostly, he was pretty battered and beaten up with a severely sprained left knee, left ankle, right elbow and wrist.  The others were hurt, too, just not severely.

“A little banged up there, Phillip?” I asked lightly as I broke through his shield and rolled him over onto his back.  He yelped and groaned loudly, catching the attention of Peter’s entourage as they passed.  “Come on, Phil, you’ve got a few questions to answer and I’m on a short fuse.  Sit up.  Creely, help him.  Left side’s hurt less.”  Creely lifted Murrik, griping and groaning the whole time, by his shoulder and back into a sitting position, then held him up while he huffed and adjusted to less painful positions.  He looked at me fearfully, shocked.

“Let’s make this quick, then,” I said.  “Why do you have an army in your backyard, Mr. Murrik?”

“Not protection, obviously,” he croaked.  “That’s Louis’ idea.  He decided we were going all the way against the councils.  I thought he was just having a snit since they threw him out until we arrived here and I found my family home overrun.”

“So you have no practical idea of what the mercenary forces are for?”

“No, Mr. McClure,” he said with complete sincerity.  “I also have very little practical idea of why I was involved with the man to begin with.”

“Well, then,” I drawled out slowly, chuckling softly.  “No doubt you developed such clarity of thought when I told you he planned to kill you.  And my brother’s ‘rearrangement’ may have inadvertently removed some modifications.”  I couldn’t help grinning at him.  “You’ll have to forgive him.  He’s just learning and he’s a bit heavy-handed.” 

Murrik looked at me questioningly, gaining strength to ask but I waved him off.  “Let me save you a few thousand in therapy bills,” I said and bore into his mind, taking his consciousness on a tour of his memory and showing him every modification and magical twist made to his mind.  Marchand played him like a fiddle without ever picking up the bow.  “He talked you into self-adjustment spells?  Doesn’t that seem innately stupid?”

“Yes, Mr. McClure,” Murrik said dazed.  Reliving memories isn’t a real-time experience and disjointed as they were through time, he was dealing… well, he was dealing with it more slowly than I hoped.

“What are you going to do now, Phillip?” I asked, listening to his mind as he churned excuses, whined, and blamed everybody else.  We traded stares for a moment while he managed options.  He was pretty good at laying out short odds.

“If I live through the next ten minutes?” he asked in a rasp, blood-shot brown eyes peering up in the dark.  With a small, wry grin, I tilted my head a bit in answer, the slightest nod.  “Then I should probably find out what the hell’s going on in my own house and put a stop to it.  I am not the person I’ve become.  I don’t know who the fuck that is right now, but this isn’t it.”

“Bishop will insist on a security force to investigate, I’m sure.  Cooperate with authorities, Phillip,” I warned him.  “I don’t want to come looking for you, but I believe you that this started out innocently enough on your side, a boyhood crush on an older classmate, et cetera.  You were played, but you chose to make the alterations yourself, even if he sweet-talked and wheedled.  You have complicity here, Phillip, whether you like it or not.”

“Yes, sir,” he answered, groaning as he moved to stand.

“Good.  Now Peter and Kieran are telling your unit commanders what they want done.  We’re leaving in a few minutes.  We have other things to do today, but we will be watching, Phillip.  Don’t let me down.  Lucian had a second-chance and you saw how that turned out.”  Okay, I lied, but the look of horror at the traitor’s demise was worth it.  Maybe he’d think twice before doing something as phenomenally stupid again as active personality adjustment.  It made you slow and easy to manipulate, at the very least.

Touching Gordon’s ring to make sure he was stationary, I called out to him,
Gordon, are you free?

Just a moment, Seth…
he answered, finishing whatever he was doing.  I didn’t pay attention. 
What can I do for you?

Are you at home?
  I had to ask even though I could open my perceptions through the ring enough to tell.

Yes, I’m late to dinner, actually,
he answered, moving through his offices, comfortable with speaking mentally.

Will my mother be there?
I asked.

Usually.  Seth, what’s wrong?
he asked. 
Has something happened to your father?

Yes, and I’ll need to talk with Mom as soon as we can get away
, I answered. 
But if she’s having dinner, it’s probably best that she doesn’t know just yet.  Can you do that for me?  Not tell her, but keep her with everybody till we can get there?

Yeah, Seth,
Gordon said, the timbre of his mental voice changed dramatically.  His emotions crept through now with crystal clarity.  The shock and concern for Dad, even without knowing the circumstances, neared that of his own father. 
Is there anything I can do?  Our medical facilities…

I appreciate it, Gordon, but this is beyond a doctor’s skills
, I told him. 
We’ll be there shortly.  Thanks.

“Ah, Mr. Murrik, so nice of you to join us,” Peter called as we crossed the grass circle.  “I won’t repeat the orders.  You’ll have to get them from your men.  You will have company some time tonight or tomorrow to investigate and decide what to do with this mess.  It’s out of our hands then.  You’re Council will decide what to do with you.”

Simultaneously, I felt the thoughts of both military men rage to the top of their thoughts behind their calm façades,
Not my council!
The thoughts went unvoiced from fear and shame, but the beliefs were the same.  Escorting Murrik to the mages, I continued until I stood a foot away from the center man, looking him dead in the eye.

“Not your council, eh?” I asked.  “You used magic in your battle plan and now you don’t think the magical authorities hold sway?  Why not?”  He stared at me, too confused by the question to formulate an answer and too shocked to question it.  I turned to the other guy.  “What about you?  You have any ideas?”  He shook his head quickly, repeating the motion. I went back to my brothers.  “Have we got all the magic in order?  A compulsion and a ward?  Anything thing else?”

“We left the compulsion for you,” Kieran said.  “You’re better at it than any of us, but the wards are in place.”

“All right, then we’re going to the Cahill’s.  They’re having dinner now and I asked Gordon to keep her occupied until we got there.”

“Gentlemen,” Peter called to the five of them.  He started a quick conclusion to his commandments, whatever they were, so I sent out the connections to the soldiers and began twisting the magic for the compulsions.  The simplest of the compulsions I’ve yet had to lay, I let it fly as soon as it was ready.  As soon as Peter was done, we were gone.

“Dad, you need to wake up now,” I said, urging him out of his stupor.  Climbing on the bed, I started shaking him as I whined.  “Dad!  Get up!  I wanna go outside!” and “Dad!  The car’s here to take you to the airport!” and “C’mon Dad, the river’s rising!  Come see with me!”  Anything I could think of that might jar a memory I said while I poked and prodded him, watching purely for physical responses.  Finally, I gave up on the childish technique and pushed in through the thick wall around him in the geas.  Here he was sitting up on his elbows groggily, looking about himself, unsure of everything.

“Seth,” he whispered, sitting up quickly.  “Where are we?”

“This is the part of your mind held by the geas,” I said calmly.  “You are the fractured personality that has to reintegrate with the body and rebuild the interface with your magic.”

“What happened to me?” he asked shocked.  I looked slowly around the room, not answering him.  He was aware of his condition and its cause.  What confused him was how it worked.  The usual cause and effect of energy movement wasn’t working for him.  His magic wasn’t working.

“Cut the crap, Dad.  You know what’s happened and you know where you are!” I said and snapped my fingers.  Everything disappeared into a haze of light except Dad.  We faced each other in the soft glow of the geas.  “You know I’m holding you together and I don’t want to do it forever!  Reintegrating your personality with your body will speed up healing immensely.  Why are you stalling?”

“Because it won’t matter, Seth.  It’ll just keep happening,” he said solemnly and forlornly, full of conviction in his prognosis.  “It happens that way sometimes.  I’m an old man, Seth.  There’s only so much my mind can take and my power is surpassing it.”

“That’s what you believe?  That your power is surpassing your ability to control it?  Did you consider talking with anyone about it?  Being proactive?  No?  When did you give up?”

“I don’t know exactly,” he said despondently, looking at my feet, choosing that as the answer to all my questions but mostly the last.

“Why?  What don’t you have to live for?  We’ve just now found the Pact’s traitor.  We can rebuild with secure bindings now.  I need your help more than ever, Dad!”

“Seth, the Pact is you,” Dad said.  “Haven’t you realized that yet?  It’s the only answer that fits.  There’s nothing to rebuild.”

Well, that was a shocker.  Raising my eyebrows to show some reaction, I said, “I’m not sure what to make of that.  I’ll talk with Kieran and do some research of my own and get back with you on that idea.  And what about Kieran and me?  Are you giving up on us, too?”

“You’ve got to be kiddin’ me,” he laughed, his aura brightened in overconfidence.  “You boys don’t need me!  You’re both more powerful than I am by far and you haven’t reached your majority yet!  Kieran is mid-forties and Peter is mid-twenties and I watched them defeat armed men at a distance with ease.”

“They’ve had practice lately,” I said, shrugging it off lightly.  “So what you’re saying is we don’t get to know each other because we’re powerful and you’re not?  That seems pretty… petty.”

“Does, doesn’t it?” Dad said, curling his lip in distaste but not looking up.

“What about Mom?  She doesn’t mean anything to you either?  You don’t think losing you so fast on the heels of her father will devastate her?”

“Olivia knows I’m an old man,” he answered sadly, unintentionally adopting my accent.  “I was going to give out sometime soon.”

“So nobody matters to you anymore?” I asked earnestly.  “Because you are still needed by Mother, me, Ethan, Kieran, and nameless hundreds, maybe thousands.  Oh, there’s one more you might want to consider.  You don’t know about this one yet, men being so dense about the female anatomy for some reason.  Mother is pregnant and I have a sibling on the way.  Are you so jaded that you’ll give up your child, too?”

“Olivia’s knocked up?” he asked.  Okay, Jimmy’s accent, more like, but there was a spark there in the kindling.

“Yeah, Dad, your two-thousand-year old pecker still works,” I said, smiling slightly at the crudity my old man made me take.

“That’s not supposed to happen,” he muttered, looking at my chest now.  “You were the last, the ninth.”

“Well, it’s too late for that, now,” I assured him.  “Unless something happens, but both are quite physically healthy now.  If you start working now, by the time you’re ready to come out from under the geas we might know the gender.”  I tried coaxing him, too.  It couldn’t hurt.

“But that breaks the prophecy,” he said.

“That’s what prophecies are made for, to be broken,” I answered without a clue as to the prophecy.  “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I have another child coming,” he muttered.

“Yeah, Dad, another kid on the way,” I urged, still fanning the embers even though I wanted to know about this prophecy.  “If you just let go, you’ll miss holding the crying infant taking its first breath, its first smile with delicate little giggles and stamping feet, your first crotch kick.  Think about all the things you’ll be giving up here, Dad.  How much did you miss out on with your other kids?  What, wouldn’t you still like to be there for another, huh?”

Crap, I did it.  I have a spark here, a tiny spark of interest in life.

“But the burn-outs will continue,” he said despondently.

“I think we can fix that,” I said mildly, not wanting to seem too eager, especially since I didn’t really know if it would work.  “It’s not something I can do while you’re under the geas, though.  I’ll have to release you first and to do that, you’ll have to heal.”  Fan the spark lightly to give it air—give him hope.

“You have done some miraculous tricks, haven’t you,” he said, meeting my eyes for the first time.  And I knew I had him then.  I moved us back to the bedroom where he lay unconscious on the bed.

“Yeah, Dad, I have.  Now I need you to do one.  Just lie back on the bed and work on getting better.”  He gravitated toward his body naturally but slowly.  “Mom’s waiting outside to see you, Dad.  Just lay back and rest, now.  Your family is all around you.  We’ll take care of you.”  I watched the double image of the energy matrix view of my father phase into his real body, feeling his body latch onto the matrix with the familiarity of two thousand years.  Gilán started healing the edges of his crispy mind immediately and he moved a little in the bed under his own volition for the first time.  Nothing major, just tossing in bed weakly.  Another good sign.

I sighed, relieved that this part was over, and started bottling up my emotions.  It had been a really rough day in that regard.  I was starting to understand the Queens a lot better now.  Having to hide your own emotions for someone else’s benefit wears on a man.  And here, I had to hide how hurt I was because it would do nothing but cause more harm.  My mother was afraid to be in my realm and my father cared more about an embryonic collection of cells than me.  While none of us was exactly rational about the situation, Dad least of all, it still hurt.  I hoped I could get over it before my sibling was born.  I left the room once I was confident I looked, or could fake, a happy face.

Mother met me at the door to the hall, anxiously grasping my forearm and searching my face for clues.  “He should wake up in a few minutes,” I said smiling wanly and patting her hands.  “You can go in now, dear.”

“Oh, thank you, Seth!” she cried and threw her arms around my neck tightly.  She stayed there a moment longer than I expected, comfortable in the act if not the reason.  Kieran came up behind her as she peeled away and he squeezed my shoulder as he passed.  I’m sure he meant it to be comforting to me.  Peter and Ethan waited in the living room for me, even though I wasn’t feeling particularly companionable right now.  Still…  I had to be a human being, after all.

Falling into the chair tiredly, rubbing my face, I looked up at Ethan looking down the hall and Peter looking at me contentedly.  “Was there anything y’all needed?” I asked.  “I was thinkin’ ‘bout turnin’ in.”

“You’re getting better at that,” Ethan said, turning to me finally.  “Lying used to be harder for you.”

“Yeah, now you’re just more difficult to read sometimes,” Peter said.  “You aren’t happy with what it took to get your father up.  What was it?  You know he won’t remember any of the conversation.”

“Blame it on Daybreak,” I said shrugging it off.  “I am tired, though.  The only thing that sparked the slightest hint of curiosity in him was the thought of having a tenth child.  Apparently, it goes against some prophecy he’s under.  I’m supposed to be his ninth and last child.”

“What does the prophecy say?” Peter asked.

“No clue.  We never had a chance to look into it,” I answered.  “I think I’ll go wander around, see how everyone’s doing, then probably turn in for the night.” 

“Kieran checked with First and Ellorn while you were in with Dad,” Ethan volunteered.  “Generally Gilán is in good hands.”

“Thanks, that’s good to know,” I said, stretching as I stood.  “See y’all tomorrow.”

Ellorn partially closed the two doors across the Road on the Promenade, effectively blocking off traffic through the Family Wing.  When I shifted to the main side, I understood why.  The
Huri
are noisy, noisy people.  They filled the corridor in a potluck communal picnic.  At least I’d get something to eat…

Ellorn, are you free?
I asked through the geas.  Pushing the Road brought me to the forefront of the “stalls,” actually untouched as yet.  I stopped to watch a Guardsman turn the huge roast a final time before hefting it onto a carving rack, then moving the rack into a warmer.

“Yes, Lord, how may I serve?” Ellorn asked suddenly beside me, smiling graciously.

“Oh, hello, Ellorn,” I said congenially, returning his smile.  “You can tell me how close we are to housing everyone to start.  Have you eaten?”

“Everyone is assigned now, sir,” Ellorn answered.  “And, oddly considering our venue, no, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“Rather stupid of us, especially since so much of our time was spent in getting everyone else fed,” I said, grinning as I advanced on what turned out to be the back end of a much larger grill setup.  Several Guardsmen were grilling and cooking several things for a larger audience.  The closest Guardsman was radiating the feeling of
Please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me…
so of course I had to talk to him.  Reaching down into the geas for information, we walked in behind the line of grills.  “Evenin’, Stump,” I said in as thick of a Texas drawl as I could manage.  “Not workin’ ya’ too hard, are they?”

Cpl. Dowd chuckled as he turned around and, nodding his head briefly, said, “Good evening, Lord Daybreak,
Chene
.  I haven’t heard that name in twenty years.  And no, sir, not workin’ too hard at all.  This actually fun t’me.”

“So why are you anxious about talking to me?” I asked.  “I don’t bite.”

“Maybe,” he drew the word into three syllables.  “But I ain’t got nothing to say.”

Chuckling, I patted his shoulder, saying lightheartedly, “Of course, you do.  You’re enjoying what you’re doing.  That’s something to talk about.  Did you get a chance to go outdoors today?”

“Yes, sir!” Stump said excitedly.  “I went this morning as part of the detachment to the big lake just southeast of the Palace, just past the village of the nymphs’ families.  They were so cool to meet!  The nymphs, I mean, but the brownies were a lot more shy around us than the ones at the Palace.  ‘Ceptin’ the greeters, they was nice and talkative.  The lake was a beautiful sight to see as it reached across the horizon.  And the water life!  When we looked below the surface, the fish were huge and there were things under there we ain’t never seen before!”  The two men at the grills behind us noticed Dowd and turned to stare.

When he paused to draw breath, Ellorn laughed.  “And you said you had nothing to say!”  We laughed, too, as “Stump” Dowd blushed at the floor sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, shifting two plates out of my kitchen cupboards, handing one to Ellorn.  “I want everyone excited about Gilán.  That’s why First took out as many as possible, to see what you’re protecting and where you live.  I want you to love your land as much as I do, but at the moment, we’re in search of food.”

He brightened.  “I have roasts of beef from rare to medium, salt-and-pepper rubbed and slow cooked.  Would you like that?”

With barely a thought, I said, “Yes, please!  Medium-rare, about a ten-ounce cut.  What about you, Ellorn?”

“I will follow your lead, sir, never having had it,” Ellorn said, looking at me appreciatively.  “However, I don’t think you’ve eaten all day and are seriously underestimating your appetite.”

“Maybe,” I said, smiling.  “But I think I smell BBQ ribs about a hunnert foot that way and a group of
huri
another fifty yards on have five different stews going.  Ten ounces is enough.”

“Point taken, sir.  I just want to make certain you eat enough under my care,” Ellorn said.  “I’d hate to have to wake your brothers when I notice you’ve left later this evening.”

“I can go where I want and I won’t be alone,” I said petulantly, watching Cpl. Dowd carve from a beautiful roast.  “Damn, I really feed y’all like this? 
I
don’t eat like this!  Well, lately…”