“I’m proud of you, son,” Vachlan told him, his voice loaded with sincerity. “You’ve done so well.”
Glais thought of his own father, and he thought he might cry. He could not even try to form a response, for he feared he would dissolve into tears. He was speechless at this unexpected warmth from the warrior. Luckily, Vachlan pulled away and moved to exit the room. He pounded Trevain on the back before he left, grinning at his grandson.
“Proud of you too, mate,” he told Trevain lightly. “The way you pumped Kyrosed full of bullets—it was glorious. It was magnificent, and I’ll be daydreaming about that moment when I’m an old man. If you ever catch me humming a happy tune to myself, that’s what I’m thinking about. If I die with a smile on my face, that will have been my final pleasurable thought.”
“Thanks, Grandpa,” Trevain said with a weak smile. “I only wish I hadn’t run out of bullets.”
“It was tragic, really. For future reference, if you’re going to steal my gun, take the one in my boot. It has a bigger magazine,” Vachlan informed Trevain. “We’re having a meeting in the library. It’s time to get down to business for some serious adult conversation.”
“I’m coming!” Varia told her great-grandfather sharply. “Glais and I are coming to the meeting.”
Vachlan turned back, hesitating. “I’m not sure that’s a very good—”
“We are adults,” Varia told him. “Glais and I—we are adults. You are going to include us in your conversation.”
“That okay with you, Trevain?” Vachlan asked.
With a contemplative glance at Varia, Trevain nodded. “Yes, we should include them both. They deserve to know what’s going on, and they’re more than ready to deal with whatever comes our way. Maybe even more ready than I am.”
When Trevain and Vachlan headed for the library, Varia turned to Glais abruptly.
“Do you think I push you too hard?” she asked him. “Do you think I expect too much of you?”
“No,” he told her in confusion. “I like that you challenge me. Why do you ask?”
“I need to know,” she told him, looking down at the ground in embarrassment. “Do you think I’m not feminine enough? Do you think I’m not sophisticated enough?”
“Varia, what’s wrong with you?” Glais asked.
“I just had a bad dream,” she mumbled. “Let’s go to the library.”
“Hey,” Glais said, moving up behind her. He placed a hand on her back, where her tattoo was clinging perfectly to the contours of her skin. “I don’t think you’re feminine, or sophisticated. But I think you’re awesome. Does that answer your question?”
She nodded, turning to him with a playful smirk. “Come on, AppleBacon Maple Glazed Donut.”
Elandria lay curled up on the sofa in the library, with her head resting on Aazuria’s lap. There were blankets strewn over her body and cushions all around her, but nothing was more comforting than her sister’s presence. Aazuria’s hand stroked Elandria’s arm gently, massaging from her elbow to her shoulder in a comforting, almost motherly way. The older woman was staring blankly ahead at a wall of books.
“How many years will it be until I forget this day?” Aazuria asked.
Elandria sighed against her sister’s knees. “You’re lucky that’s all he ever did to you.”
“I never knew. I never knew what it felt like—what you suffered all those years.” Aazuria shook her head in angry bewilderment. “Why do things like this always happen to us?”
“To test us,” Elandria said. “To make us stronger.”
“For what? The next disaster? And the next?” Aazuria gazed down at the woman in her lap and tenderly brushed the hair back behind her ears. She frowned at the residue on Elandria’s face from the duct tape, and began trying to scratch it off with her fingernail. “I wish we had never been royalty, Elan. I wish we had not been daughters of that man. We deserved a simple, happy existence.”
“No, Zuri. Don’t say that. Without him, we would not be who we are. We would not be here. You would not be my sister; and at the end of the day, I am so grateful for knowing you that all the negativity of my life fades away. All that we have suffered is irrelevant, compared to what we have.”
Aazuria’s face remained skeptical. “How can you possibly put a positive spin on this?”
Elandria picked herself up and sat on her knees on the sofa, wrapping the blankets around herself as she regarded her sister. “I don’t know much about life, Zuri, but this has been my experience: For every dreadful thing that has happened to me, ten delightful things have occurred. For every moment I have been speechless in fear, there were ten times that I was rendered speechless in awe. For every moment I have felt so miserable that it was difficult just to go on breathing, there have been ten breathtaking moments when I wished that I could keep breathing forever.”
Nodding slowly, Aazuria leaned forward and pressed her forehead against her sister’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much, Elan. I’m so glad you’re home.”
Elandria slipped an arm around the older woman. “Remember—when bad things happen to us, it all happens for a reason. Fate would never give us more than we can handle. Fate knows us better than we know ourselves; we only know what we are and what we have been, but fate knows what we are capable of being.”
“Please tell me you’re not going to go back to the priestess,” Aazuria said. “It doesn’t feel like home without you here.”
“I don’t want to go back,” Elandria admitted. “That woman—I don’t agree with her teachings. I don’t agree with her interpretation of ‘Sedna’s will.’ It seems more like her will that she is twisting and attributing to the goddess. She abuses her religious powers and the trust of her disciples. She abused me.”
Aazuria frowned. “Would you like me to deal with the situation? Religion is important to the people, and we can’t have a corrupt leader…”
“No, Zuri. I’m not sure, but I have a hunch—I think that she was responsible for bringing Father back to life. I think she did it to punish me for disobeying her, or to teach me a lesson of some sort…”
“You think she did what?” Aazuria hissed. “If she is responsible for this, I swear to you—”
“Don’t retaliate,” Elandria implored. “Listen, Zuri. I need to apologize to you. I did learn so much under Mother Melusina, but I couldn’t apply her teachings. When I saw Father—I knew that I could kill him using only my voice. I felt the power in me, but I chose not to use it. I could not bring myself to do that—but perhaps I should have. I could have prevented all of this. I could have protected you, and Varia, and everyone. I let everyone get hurt because I couldn’t commit an act of violence. Is that pathetic? I could have killed him, but I did not. Are you upset with me?”
“No,” Aazuria said softly. “I admire you. Even after all you’ve suffered, and all you’ve seen, you refuse to allow yourself to become like him. The world needs more people like you, Elandria. I have grown so comfortable with killing that it hardly bothers me anymore. Given the opportunity, I would gladly kill Father again, and possibly take pleasure in it. I hate to think what a monster I would devolve into without your influence in my life. You’re my moral compass.”
“Well,” Elandria said with a smile, “I do try. With a devil like Visola sitting on your other shoulder, it is quite difficult to offer adequately counterbalancing angelic advice.”
Aazuria laughed at this imagery. “That’s so accurate! You two even look the part—with your hair white and hers red!”
“Oh, please never mention this again,” Elandria said in warning. “The children will force us to wear masquerade garments for that land-dweller tradition—what is it? Samhain?”
“It must happen now,” Aazuria declared. “Ivory and Ronan will love it.”
All the humor disappeared from Elandria’s face. “So you know that I have never even met Visola’s children? And the first time they saw me, I had a bomb strapped to my body. What will they think of me?�
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“Elan,” Aazuria said seriously. “They will love you. Your reputation is only good, so I’m sure they already do.”
“My reputation?” Elandria said with a self-deprecating chortle. “I am the woman who stole your husband!”
“And I am the woman who came back from the dead. Twice!” Aazuria said with amusement. “Anyone can repeat a single sentence of popular opinion or gossip. It doesn’t tell the whole story.”
Elandria looked down at the blankets which surrounded her, absentmindedly picking at the fluff on the fabric. “I have been thinking of Alcyone,” she said quietly. “What Father said—I realize that he really was responsible for everything, in a roundabout way. First of all, he introduced Visola to Vachlan—he played matchmaker in setting them up, even if he didn’t intend for it to go as far as it did, he knew they would connect on some level. He was wise to foresee that. Secondly, if Kyrosed hadn’t tricked Vachlan into leaving, and if Visola had not needed to send her daughter away—can you imagine, now that you have Varia, how difficult that was for her?—Alcyone would not have eventually met her husband, and Trevain and Callder would never have been born. And if Father had not pushed your buttons so much that you eventually butchered him—”
“I like that word. Say it again.”
“—butchered him,” Elandria repeated with elegant emphasis, “then you would not have been able to leave Adlivun and you would have never met Trevain. Visola would never have been reunited with her daughter, and she would never know her grandchildren. If you had not been so agitated over the loss of Father, perhaps you never would have been so careless in your coupling with a land-dweller—and we wouldn’t have Varia.”
Aazuria looked down at the Ramaris ring which rested on her finger, remembering the moment she had discovered the astoundingly coincidental connection. “I can’t imagine how I ever got along without Varia,” she said.
“Exactly! So think of all the beauty and goodness that has come to us from Father’s misdeeds! Should we not be thankful to him, in the end?” Elandria demanded. “Wasn’t it worth all the wretchedness to have Trevain in your life?”
Just then, as if on cue, Trevain walked in the door, chatting with Vachlan at his side.
Aazuria turned to observe him, and felt as though she was seeing him anew for the first time; she was seeing him through her sister’s eyes. She could feel what her sister felt, and Trevain was suddenly more than just a man. He was a reward, a gift, and a treasure. She smiled as she reached to her side to squeeze her sister’s hand.
“In our lives, Elandria. It was worth it all to have him in our lives.”
The younger woman sent her sister a grateful and melancholy look before turning to greet those who were entering the room. Brynne gave Vachlan a firm handshake and then moved to give Trevain a tender hug.
“We made it through another storm, Captain.”
“That we did, Brynne. I know you’re worried about your husband…”
“Pfft. I should keep him on a tighter leash,” she muttered. “Are you worried?”
“Not really,” he said with a perplexed look. “I know Callder’s okay. He never screws up when it really matters, does he?”
“You have more faith in him than I do,” Brynne said, smacking Trevain in the arm in a friendly way. She turned to smile at Aazuria and Elandria. “Naclana is looking after Kolora and the twins for the night. What’s the big situation?”
“Let’s wait for a few more people to arrive,” Vachlan told her.
Dr. Rosenberg was next to enter the room, followed by Varia and Glais.
“Empress Amabie is staying with Princess Yamako and Kaito,” Dylan told them. “Poor boy is really frightened, but he’ll be okay.”
Visola trounced into the library next, her arms dripping with dozens of gift bags. “Hey, peeps! I come bearing goodies. First, I have a special something for our beloved Aazuria who was such a trooper today.”
“Oh, dear,” Aazuria said with a groan.
Visola carefully selected a gift bag and handed it to the tired queen.
Aazuria suspiciously lifted a carefully wrapped box out of the bag. Gingerly removing the paper, she lifted the lid of the box and peeked inside. With a sigh, she closed the lid and returned it to the bag. “Thanks, Viso.”
“Nooo,” Visola said, stomping her foot and pouting. “You have to show everyone.” She ripped the gift away and opened it up, proudly displaying it to everyone in the room. “See? It’s mouthwash. I even tied a ribbon around the neck of the bottle.”
“Visola,” Aazuria said, her cheeks reddening. “You shouldn’t have. You really shouldn’t have.”
Visola moved over to her friend and placed a hand on her back in a chummy way. “Nonsense. It’s the least I could do. I know you’d do the same for me.”
Aazuria cleared her throat. “It’s quite a thoughtful gift.”
“Notice how it says extra-strength antibacterial cleansing. It helps to prevent plaque and tartar buildup while actively freshening your breath. It even protects your gums. I can get you more bottles if that’s not enough.”
“I get it, Visola. Believe me when I say that I’ll be using your gift several times a day from now until forever.”
“You can try drinking it to cleanse your soul, but that doesn’t work. I’ve tried,” Visola said with a wink. “See, Dylan? I’m a therapist too. You take care of her mental health, and I’ll attend to her oral hygiene. Between the two of us, we’ve got this handled, bro.”
Dylan cleared his throat nervously.
Elandria pressed her sleeve against her lips to hide a giggle.
“Mom?” Varia said in confusion. “What do you need mouthwash for?”
Aazuria quickly shoved the mouthwash away into a corner of the sofa. “Nothing, dear.”
Sionna entered the room, and Visola squealed in delight. “My doppelganger’s here! Let’s get this after-party started!” Visola shouted as she popped a cork of a champagne bottle. “I’ve got drinks for everybody!”
Ignoring her sister, Sionna crossed the room to where Dylan was standing and grabbed his face, kissing him soundly on the mouth. His hands flew out to either side in shock, hesitating between moving toward her and pulling away. Finally, he decided to go with it and allowed his hands to descend to her waist.
Finally, Sionna disconnected their lips and smiled. “Thank you for saving her, Dr. Rosenberg.”
“You’re—you’re welcome, Dr. Ramaris,” he stuttered, clearing his throat. “That was—that was an unusually emphatic thank-you kiss.”
“I’m verrry grateful,” Sionna murmured, slightly slurring her words.
Dylan’s glasses had become foggy, and he removed them to wipe them down. “Ah, well—the artery wasn’t even cut that deeply. It was just a tiny nick. You saw it—I didn’t perform a miracle or anything.”
“But you were there, and you helped me. You’re so nice,” Sionna said, petting his cheek as though he were a puppy with a wagging tail. “We haven’t gotten all bloody together in ages.”
“It was quite exhilarating,” Dylan said, straightening his bow tie sheepishly. “I haven’t had this much fun in quite some time.”
Sionna allowed her fingers to drift down to the bloodstains on his shirt. “I guess it’s not a party until my girlfriend spews her bodily fluids all over you.”
“Whoa, Sio!” Vachlan said in surprise. “Either cool it down a notch, or drag him to the kitchen. Come back and join the conversation when you’re done your business.”
“Special announcement!” Visola declared, assuming an infomercial-like voice. “I know you’re all wondering what’s gotten into my sister,” she said merrily, “and I would like to take full responsibility for getting her drunk with my special stress-relieving cocktail mix. But don’t worry! I’ve brought plenty of drinks for all of my dear friends! These lovely spirits will help us get into better spirits as Vachlan gives us a boring, monotonous lecture.” She smiled at her husband as she began handing out
bottles. “Elandria gets tequila because she was nearly blown up. Zuri gets champagne because it’s classy, and I bet she doesn’t feel too classy right now. Trevain, you can have a single-malt scotch because it’s manly, and today you proved that you really do have gonads. Dr. Dylan Rosenberg, you can just stand close to my sister and inhale her breath, and that should be enough. Just kidding, broski—here’s some cognac!” The redhead swiveled merrily as she tossed bottles around the room. “Vachlan, I know this is your favvy vodka. Brynne—your husband sucks so I got you absinthe. You can thank me later for that chica.” Visola winked at the brunette before noticing Varia and Glais. She placed her hands on her hips curiously. “Hey, who let the kiddies into the room?”
“They decided they want to be present for our discussion,” Vachlan said, putting the vodka bottle aside.
“We’re still waiting for the serious adult conversation we were promised,” Varia said with a lifted eyebrow.
“Gosh, Varia, you are so cantankerous sometimes!” Visola declared. “You don’t have to be as grouchy as your mother, you know. It’s okay, I’ll fix you—I’ve got extra booze! Vermouth, brandy, wine,” she said, tossing bottles at Glais. “There, we’re all set. And if Vachlan gets so dull that you can’t stand listening to him, just let me know and I’ve also got some pills that could help.”
“Visola,” Aazuria said in warning. “I’m not sure you should be giving my daughter alcohol.”
“She’s my great-granddaughter, so I outrank you in the wisdom required to make this decision,” Visola explained. “Don’t worry, it’s supervised drinking.”
Elandria stared down at her tequila bottle with disinterest. “I’m not sure that we’re really in the mood for these festivities tonight, Visola.”
“Give me a break! I haven’t seen you in how many years, and you’re trying to avoid getting drunk with me, Elan?” Visola advanced on the quiet woman and took the bottle from her hands. “I’m gonna pull a King Kyrosed on you. Open your mouth.”
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