“Well, of course,” she replied, “everyone knew there was no chance of that.”
“Very funny.”
“Did you see Gram when you got here?” she asked suddenly.
“Yeah, he ran interference for me on my way up here,” said Matt. “Why?”
“Just wanted to know how he was doing. I haven’t seen him in a while. Alyssa’s back, did you know?”
“He told me,” he answered, but Matthew was mulling over her words as he did. “Why haven’t you seen him?”
“I’ve been staying here most of the time. Resting up. I haven’t been out but once or twice since I got back.” Moira’s voice was dry; matter-of-fact.
Nothing to see here, thought Matthew. That’s what she’s trying to say, but there’s definitely something. “Did you get in trouble with Mom and Dad?”
“They were worried,” she replied. “It was about the same when I got back, except I wasn’t lucky and had to face everyone in the castle yard, but I’m not being punished. I just haven’t felt like seeing people.”
Yeah, sure, he thought. Moira liked seeing people the same way a fish liked water. She wouldn’t stay in for a week by choice. “I heard you started a war.”
Moira didn’t answer, so they sat in silence for a few minutes. It was a reassuring quiet, a peaceful space without expectation. Neither of them felt like fighting, and to say more would have probably led to an argument, so instead they left the words for later.
After a while she rose and headed for the door. “I’m glad you made it back in one piece,” she said, without looking back.
“You too,” he said quietly, and then she was gone. With one hand he flipped the PM over so the screen was facing up again. It lit up immediately.
“Great talk with your sister,” said Gary dryly.
Actually, Matthew agreed. Something was wrong with her, of that he was sure, and it worried him slightly, but overall, he was just glad she had been more subdued. “It’s more about what we don’t say,” he observed.
Chapter 30
The next two days were busy. Matthew was inundated with friends and family that wanted to know where he had been; the questions were innumerable. Conall and Irene pestered him endlessly, though not just about him—they also probed him about Moira.
It wasn’t just Gram that had seen little of Moira, it was pretty much everyone. Since her return, she had been to Dunbar once, and on a short trip with Mordecai. Other than that, she had stayed in her room and kept to herself.
The annoying part was that, for some reason, everyone seemed to think that Matthew would have some sort of intuition or mystical way to fix his sister. I know less than they do, though, he noted silently. He didn’t really have time to spend trying to figure it out, either. More pressing was the need to save Karen.
He had already questioned Lynaralla on the matter, and, as he had suspected, she knew nothing of the She’Har’s advanced healing methods. She suggested asking her mother, which would require a journey and a lot of time, since she was a mature She’Har.
Because of that, they ruled that option out and sent a message to Gareth Gaelyn in Albamarl. He was kind enough to respond to the urgency of the request and arrived in Castle Cameron the morning of Matthew’s third day back.
Matthew and his father greeted him in the entry hall of the castle keep.
“Gareth,” said Mordecai. “It’s good to see you again.”
Bush red brows drew together in a skeptical expression. “Really, Mort? Is it that good to see me?”
“Well, of course,” said the Count, giving their guest his most disarming smile.
“My wife has been in a foul mood since she returned from her last visit, but she refuses to discuss the matter,” stated Gareth, cutting straight to the point. “Why don’t we talk about that?”
Mort frowned. “Let’s find someplace private.”
Matthew watched the whole exchange without saying anything, but his own curiosity was piqued now. Gareth shook his hand, and the three of them started walking.
Once they were safely ensconced in a private room, this time in the Cameron family apartments, not their home in the mountains, they began their discussion.
“Moira wouldn’t tell me why she was so insistent on her visit when she left, and she’s been unsettled ever since she returned,” said Gareth. “What did you do?” He made no attempt to disguise the accusatory tone in his voice. He was referring to his wife, Moira Centyr, not Matthew’s sister, the inheritor of her name.
Matthew watched his father’s face. Mordecai’s gaze remained steady, his eyes on Gareth and his expression revealing nothing, but it was clear the gears were working behind his still features. Eventually he spoke, “Your wife came to check on my daughter.”
“That’s not unusual,” replied Gareth. “Get to the point.”
The tension in the air was growing, but Matthew couldn’t help but agree. Yeah, what happened?
“As you surmise, it wasn’t a casual visit. She was concerned about the events in Dunbar and Moira’s part in them. The Centyr have many secrets and she was worried that our daughter had broken some of their hidden rules.
“You knew the Centyr back when they were thriving,” added the Count. “Are you familiar with any of their internal laws?”
Gareth had relaxed once Mort started talking. “Not really. They kept to themselves for the most part. They even raised their children in seclusion, so most of us from the other families only interacted with them in the council. Did she break any of those rules you mentioned?”
Matthew saw the hesitation on his father’s face as he considered his answer. He’s thinking about lying. Why?
Mordecai let out a sigh of resignation, “Yes. She did.”
The other archmage winced visibly. “And you bound my wife, didn’t you?”
Matt knew he had missed something, but he held his tongue.
“I had no other choice,” admitted the Count. “She has too much power for me to have done anything else.”
Moira Centyr was an artificial being, a spell-clone of the original Moira, and after Mordecai’s battles to dispose of the shining gods, he’d had to find places to store the power he had taken from them. Most of it had gone into the dragons that he and Gareth had created, but a significant portion had been stored in Moira Centyr. Consequently, she had as much strength in her as one of the shining gods. But Mordecai knew the key that controlled the enchantment that preserved her, and it could be used to compel absolute obedience.
“She wanted to kill the girl?” asked Gareth, seeking confirmation.
Mort nodded his affirmation.
It was too much for Matthew, though. “What?!” he blurted out. “Why? Moira’s her daughter!”
Gareth rubbed his beard in agitation. “I don’t know the ‘why,’ but back in my day it wasn’t uncommon. Once in a while the Centyr would eliminate one of their own. More often than not it was one of their younger mages, though sometimes it would be one of the older, more accomplished members of the clan. They never admitted to it, of course, but we knew. One of them would go missing, and they’d refuse to speak of them again.”
“And everyone was fine with that?” said Matthew in disbelief.
“The families didn’t interfere with one another,” said Gareth stiffly. “What they did to their own was none of our business.”
Mordecai spoke again, “I hope you can forgive me, Gareth, but with my daughter’s life at stake I didn’t see any other choice.”
“I’m not happy,” said Gareth honestly. “What did the girl do?”
“Your wife didn’t want me to reveal their secrets, so…,” began Mort.
Gareth snapped, “Goddammit, man! I don’t give two shits about their rules, and neither do you! You’ve bound my wife’s free-will in this matter, so I will hear the cause for it!”
Matthew felt the older man’s words like a slap and leaned back involuntarily. He’d never heard anyone speak to his father in a tone like that.
Mordecai stayed calm, and then sighed, “She used her power to control and manipulate the people around her. She did it in self-defense, mainly, or with good intentions, but it’s caused a shift in her personality and unlocked some troublesome abilities.”
Now Matthew began to understand. He also had Tyrion’s memories, and he remembered the danger the Centyr She’Har had represented to him ages ago. That was why she didn’t want to make mental contact when she was in my room, he realized. It was also the likely reason for her self-imposed isolation.
“I don’t know the particulars of how something like that affects them,” admitted Gareth, “but I would imagine the Centyr don’t kill their own unless they have a damn good reason. Do you think you know better than they did?”
The Count nodded. “I know something of it, from the memories in the loshti, but not much. I also heard what your wife had to say on the matter.”
“And what did she say?” asked Gareth. “Since she can no longer speak of it on her own.” There was anger in his voice.
“She felt that Moira would be tempted to abuse her power in the future. That it had tainted her spirit,” said Mordecai.
“Don’t sugarcoat it, Mordecai,” rebuked Gareth. “She wouldn’t insist on death if she thought she would be tempted. She had to have believed it was worse than that.”
“Fine. She believed my daughter had become a ‘reaver.’ It was her term for a Centyr mage that has been corrupted, allowing their power to twist them into some sort of inhuman monster. Is that what you want me to say?” said Mordecai in frustration. “I think she’s wrong.”
“You would,” said Gareth. “You’re an optimistic fool. My wife knows the Centyr, and she knows her daughter. You should have followed her advice.”
The chair Mordecai was sitting on rippled for an instant, so briefly that Matthew almost thought he had imagined it. He felt nothing—his father’s emotions were well hidden behind a shield that had become as solid as stone—but he had seen it. He’s angry, thought Matt. So angry that he lost control for a moment. He glanced at Gareth for a second, noting that the other archmage was also hiding his feelings behind a tightly made shield. This could get ugly.
The Count’s voice was cool and level when he replied, “I disagree, and unless I see evidence to make me think otherwise, that’s the end of it.”
Gareth Gaelyn’s eyes flashed fire and he stood. “Then we have nothing more to discuss. Don’t bother asking me for help or advice either. You are no longer welcome in my home, and I’ll thank you to keep your daughter away as well.” He started to turn away.
“Wait!” exclaimed Matthew, drawing looks from both men. “I need your help.”
“You heard me, mageling,” said Gareth, dismissing him. “If your father won’t see reason, I’m done here.”
“Let him go, Matt,” advised his father. “We can do it without him.”
Matt turned to face Mordecai. “You said he was the best for this. I’m not going to risk Karen’s life to satisfy your pride!”
Gareth chuckled. “Your whelp has grown teeth, Mordecai.”
“Let me speak to Gareth alone,” said Matt, entreating his father.
The Count’s eyes ranged between them, flashing with anger. When they landed on Matthew he saw something else for a moment, but it vanished in an instant, washed away by his father’s wrath. “Very well, son. Talk to him if you wish, but I’ll have nothing to do with it if he’s involved. If you want to act like a man and make your own deals, then you’ll have to accept the consequences as well. I’m done with this!” He left the room with a heavy stride, and when he reached the door it flew open with such force that the wood splintered. It slammed shut behind him with a thundering boom.
“Lord Gaelyn,” began Matthew, after the air had settled.
“Just Gareth, young Illeniel,” said the red bearded wizard. “I need no titles when talking to men, even foolish ones.”
“I hope the trouble between you and my father won’t sway you before you hear my…”
“Don’t bandy words, young man,” barked Gareth. “You threw your father’s pride in his face and now you want to speak to me with soft phrases? Talk plainly and don’t bother using sugared words for my ears.”
Matthew spoke earnestly, “There’s a woman, in another world. She was badly wounded. I left her in stasis, but she will surely die shortly after emerging from it, unless I can persuade you to help her.”
“Not my problem,” said Gareth curtly.
“But she’ll die if…”
“Young man, I ate my friends and spent a thousand years living as a dragon. Why should I care if some stranger from another world dies? And you, you might as well have spit on your father just now. Why should I help a fool?”
Matthew was thinking furiously, trying to come up with something. Finally, he said, “Even if you consider my father your enemy, I am not. In the future, I could be a powerful ally.”
The archmage held up a hand to forestall any more, “I would not call your father an enemy, though he certainly is not my friend. I owe him much for his help in the past, or I would have tried to slay him for his insult to my wife. You do realize our disagreement is over your sister’s life, don’t you? Would you ask for aid from a man who might desire her execution?”
Matthew sat straighter and squared his shoulders. “That matter is not for me to decide. If it should lead to a fight between you, I will defend her and the rest of my family. But it was not me who offended you, and it was no fault of my friend’s, either. Karen nearly died trying to help me and my dragon, though she hardly knew us. Help her, please!”
Gareth snorted. “She probably considered your dragon nothing more than a mount or fancy pet.”
“No,” he protested. “They were friends.”
“I wonder what Desacus would say if we ask him that same question?” said Gareth derisively.
“He’s dead,” snapped Matthew. “He died trying to protect us.”
The red-bearded mage’s eyes widened. “Dead?”
“Dead,” he affirmed. “I was knocked unconscious at the same time.”
“And the egg?”
“Taken.”
Gareth Gaelyn stood, looking down at the young wizard. “And what do you propose to do about that?”
Matthew stood as well. He was not as tall as Gareth, but he wouldn’t let that intimidate him. Giving the archmage an even stare, he answered, “I’m going to take it back, and make sure that the ones who did it never make that mistake again. But I need Karen’s help to find him.”
Gareth began to laugh, a deep rumbling sound that was more menacing than humorous. “Very well, young wolf! I will strike a bargain with you. I will help you recover your maiden, but you will make a promise to me as well. I know very well that once you have secured the woman, your father will forbid you to return. The dragons are important to him, but not worth the risk of his son’s life. Swear to me that you will defy his will and go back for your dragon. Do that, and I will forgive your father’s offense against my wife, whether you succeed or die in the attempt.”
Matt smiled. “That’s an easy price. I would have done it anyway.”
“If that is true, then I have no reservations in helping you get your girl,” said Gareth. Either way my purpose will be served. Either a dragon is saved, or your arrogant father will get his comeuppance, losing his eldest son for treating my wife as his slave. He smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
Chapter 31
Gareth promised to return the following morning. Next, Matthew planned to ask for Elaine Prathion’s assistance, figuring her special abilities might come in handy should things turn out for the worse. But first, he had to face his father.
The Count was waiting for him when he left the false family apartments and returned to their semi-secret home in the mountains. He was pacing in the entry hall, visibly agitated.
“Dad…,” started Matthew.
“Did he agree to help you?” His
voice was curious.
“Yes, but…”
Mordecai smiled. “Excellent! That was quick thinking. I’m proud of you son.”
Matthew paused, “Wait, you aren’t mad?”
“Ha! Your mother thinks I’m a bad actor, but I’ve got news for you, I can bluff with the best of them! No, I’m not mad. When you decided to try and talk to him alone, I figured you wanted to try to get around his anger with me by negotiating separately. You caught me by surprise, but I figured it would work better if he thought you had made me angry. It may have even tipped the balance—letting him feel like he was getting back at me by helping you,” explained Mordecai.
He didn’t think his father would have been as pleased if he had heard about the bargain at the end. Being ordered to stay safe at home after getting Karen back, he should have anticipated that. Even so, he knew he would have ignored the command, so he still didn’t consider the bargain a betrayal. It just happened to align with what he would have done anyway.
“Well, I’m glad our plan worked,” put in Matthew.
Mordecai looked at him, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Plan, my ass! You thought I was genuinely angry. I bet I scared the piss out of you when I slammed that door!”
That was unfair—he’d been anxious, but he had never been one to shy away from an argument. “I was a little worried,” said Matthew defensively, “but that was all.”
His father winked at him. “Either way, that took balls, especially if you didn’t know I was just playing along. You’re quite the young rebel, aren’t you?”
“I wasn’t trying to be rebellious,” he protested. He had always thought teenage rebellion for its own sake was rather stupid, and he hated being stereotyped that way. “I was just…”
“Oh no!” interrupted Mordecai. “You were definitely rebelling, which is why I have to punish you.”
“What?! But you just said you thought it was a good idea!”
“There’s a pile of dishes in the kitchen,” his father informed him, “and I already gave Alyssa the day off.”
Matt glared at him. “You just didn’t want to do them yourself,” he grumbled.
Demonhome Page 26