Sons (Book 2) (163 page)

“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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