“I cannot. Not until you, as an Underwood, release me from the familial vow I gave your grandfather.” There was obvious excitement in his face and I have to admit I was intrigued. I knew nothing about this vow, though, and in general I don’t like changing the status quo, especially when I have no idea of the consequences. I had learned that the hard way in the Depression. Still I had no choice. I had to have the protection that a Noble’s Privilege would grant me. I needed his influence to save Dalia and to get that bastard Callisandra.
“I release you.” He said nothing and I sighed. It probably needed to be more formal than that. The Fey are sticklers for this kind of thing. So I tried again. “I, Jake Underwood, scion of House Underwood through matrilineal descent of Mary Underwood, by way of Mathis Underwood do hereby relinquish any vow that House Underwood holds over Lord Stavros Melliscant, holder of Lord Kareen’s Blight and House Melliscant.” I paused to catch my breath. “Will that Do?”
A look of triumph crossed his face and unfettered joy and I hoped that I hadn’t just signed my death sentence but I couldn’t imagine why he would have waited all these years to deal with me just because of a vow. There were ways around such things. It was difficult, but not impossible for a full blooded fey lord.
“Alright, tell me about this vow you gave my grandfather that I just lifted and whether you will grant my request for a Noble’s Privilege or not!
“I have waited a long time for this, so very long, over a century, and now that the time has arrived my son, I am not sure how to proceed. First, let me ease your mind about your request.” He was smiling. The bastard was actually smiling. What the hell was this all about?
“I gladly grant your privilege and will use all my influence and resources to help you in any way I can. I have waited so long to actually talk to you, so long and there is so much to say and little time to say it in.”
“I appreciate that you want to save the family name but you don’t have to pretend so hard. I know how you feel about me and have made peace with your indifference a long time ago. You have ignored me for over a century and you can right back to despising and ignoring me as soon as we get this little problem taken care off.” I was very confused but figured this was yet another odd Fey game that I just didn’t get.
“You think I hate you? Whatever made you think that? It is true I was never able to talk freely to you, but I never did anything that should have led you to that conclusion. I was enjoined by my vow from seeking you out or having anything to do with you and curse me, I kept it. Nevertheless, I never did anything that should have made you think I hated you.”
I was stunned but even as he said it I thought about my interactions with him over the years and more importantly his with me. They were damn few and they were also kept to a bare minimum that custom would allow. Now that I thought about, the few times we had collided had all been events that I had instigated. At all those meetings he had been taciturn and distant. I tried to think of personal incidents that I could point to that showed his dislike of me and other than an assiduous kept distance of me I could find no direct actions.
“What the hell is going on here? My grandfather told me-“
“He lied.” He spat. “He lied to you from the first time he ever told you anything about me. Oh yes, I am sure that he broadly told you some of the truth but never all of it and often in details that could not help but make you feel abandoned and unwanted. Worse, it’s my fault that he could do this.” He looked down and I could see that this was dragging up old pain and despite what I thought about him, I regretted seeing that pain.
“Great, what exactly do you mean by that? You have been a non-figure my entire life and you say I have it wrong? What exactly do I have wrong about the fact that you wouldn’t have anything to do with me?”
He sighed. “It is a long story, a story for a time when we are not pressed by matters that cannot be postponed. For now, know this; I loved your mother with a great and powerful love. It consumed me in a way that few can know. She was my life and I ignored all else. I knew her father disapproved of me but when you are blinded by the sun, who cares about the night? When…when your mother, my wife, died, I was insane with grief. I wanted to follow her into the dark lands. There was nothing but darkness and insanity. There is no excuse for it and to my eternal shame I forswear you to your grandfather. I told him that I wanted nothing to do with the son that had taken my love. I am ashamed to say that I was crazed with grief and that I couldn’t love you or even want you near. I swore by the Compact that he could have you, Adversary take you, and that by my will, my eyes would never see you nor my lips speak one word to you.”
That was pretty much what I had always figured. I knew he hadn’t wanted me around and he never said anything to me unless I spoke to him first, which I had done damn few times. Even so, hearing it said from his lips, with such vehemence brought up all the old feelings again. I could feel the rage that I thought I had extinguished to indifference burning again.
“Days passed and even my dark grief was not a great enough pool to drown my responsibilities as I was reminded by those to whom I owe fealty to. In a few days my rage and grief lessened to a point where I was once again sane. I realized with horror what I had done and I went to your grandfather and I asked him, no, I begged him, begged him to release me from hasty and ill spoken vow. He flatly refused. He was a crafty mortal and knew the strength of my vow. I surmised that Mary had told him of the Compact and somewhat about how it worked. He told me that I had taken his daughter and that I had taken enough. I had given you up, by a vow of the Compact and he would hold me to that vow as long as he lived and he would do his best to make sure that you would have nothing to do with me or would ever release me from the vow I had made.”
I was stunned. How long I sat there trying to piece together this story and match it with what I knew of my grandfather and what he had told me over the years, I don’t know. My grandfather had loved me. I was sure of this. But how could he have done this if he had? I could not believe it. I wouldn’t believe it.
“So you’re saying that it was a vow to my grandfather that made so many Fey treat me like crap over the years? Half breed whelp always seemed to be a particular favorite.”
“No. My vow only kept me from seeing or talking to you. Most of the insults you received over the years arise out of the considerable prejudice among many full bloods about chimera. Further, my enemies enjoyed insulting you knowing I could nothing about it. But most of that is just pig headedness and fear.” He sadly shook his head. “No, I am afraid that most of what you experienced is just an outgrowth of an older problem.”
“My oath kept me from seeking you out, contacting you or doing anything about letting you know how much I wanted you in my life. All I can do is ask for forgiveness. I tried many times to get you to come to me, but your grandfather had done his job very well indeed. You chose not only to have anything to do with me, but almost nothing to do with your Fey heritage as well. All I could do was watch. I petitioned the emperor to be released from the Compact and all my lands and privileges, anything that would break the vow. The Emperor refused of course. No one is ever released from the Compact, especially close acquaintances of the Emperor.”
“I don’t believe it. This is all just some story, some deep Fey plot that just doesn’t track for me. You’re lying.” He looked sad, but not surprised. “Look. I have no reason at all to believe anything you’re telling me. All my life I have thought of you as a bastard and so far I have no reason to think otherwise. This could be just another elaborate Fey plot, especially if what I think has been going on is true, then you would pretty much say exactly what you said because you might still need me. I know what I am about to say is damn insulting, but would you be willing to swear by the Compact at the risk of being declared Unclean that what you have told me is the truth?” He said nothing for a moment. I had just told him that his word wasn’t trustworthy and that unless he was vouchsafed by some outside source I wo
uldn’t believe what he said.
“I can understand why you think what you think. The last time I swore an oath that strong by the Compact I lost you for over a century. But if that is what it takes, then I am willing to do so.”
I looked at my father with new eyes. It was hard to see past all the pain and hate I had stored up over the years, but there was a core of me that knew he always kept his word and that his family honor was very important to him, more important than his own life.
He stood and walked to where I was setting and before I could protest kneeled before and pulled out wickedly sharp knife that he carried at his waist. With a quick movement that I had trouble following he sliced open his palm and squeezed, letting the blood drop to the floor.
“Jake Underwood Melliscant, my son of flesh and blood, I swear by the Compact and by this blood that I freely offer that everything I have said this day to you is true not only in word, but in intent. This blood is my pact and may it boil forth from my body and the Adversary claim my spirit if I am forsworn.” He looked at my face impassively.
Yikes. That was probably the most powerful oath I had ever seen sworn. He risked not only a declaration of being Unclean but offered his spirit to the Adversary, who we do not name, if he spoke untrue.
I could feel the power of his oath in the room. It was bond that was watched by great powers, baleful and benign and it made me shudder to feel their gaze upon me. A sort of reddish tinge clouded the edge of my vision and everyone else seemed so far away. It was like a cloud of crimson smoke that swirled about me and my father with tendrils seeming to pierce my flesh. It burned but left no mark.
I was enough of Fey to know a true oath when I heard it and enough of man to accept that I could be wrong about what I had thought. Years of bad experiences with the Fey part of me that refused to let anyone get close warred with a human desire to believe that it was true, that my father did want me and that I wasn’t a castoff. My human heart won over my Fey side and I reached out with my hand and grasped his bleeding hand and stood, pulling him to his feet. I could think of only one thing to say:
“Father”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I wish I could say that we said all those things that fathers and sons, long separated are supposed to say. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time. My confrontation with Serlisch had stirred up the local police pretty well and while they probably didn’t know where to look, they were looking. Besides, time was pressing. My Naming Day ceremony was the next day at the midday hour and there was no avoiding it. There was a lot to do in a pretty short time. My father, it still seems odd to use that word without cursing, had a carriage waiting on a nearby street and we waited until nightfall and then we made our way to where it was parked.
We were met by a smallish mortal who stepped down to meet us. He was dark skinned, but not black. He might have been from India or someplace in the tropics. Inwardly I sighed. Sometime the Fae really take the British model too far. He started to speak but my father quieted him with a glance.
“Gunga Din” gave a polite bow and opened the door to the carriage and we piled in. It was comfortable, naturally, and when I started to tell my father about the past week he shook his head. I realized that I was being foolish. He was a noble Fey and that meant there was a pretty good chance that he was being watched by somebody, maybe court security, maybe his enemies, who knows? The point is that I didn’t know and that could get us killed. We needed someplace quiet and safe to talk that was absolutely secure. This was his world more than mine and he undoubtedly knew it far better than I did.
The trip through the darkened streets was tantalizing. Here and there lights would move and play in windows and in the sky. With so many craft users about illusions and phantasms were common and were for amusement more than a serious attempt to deceive. The Fey think of themselves as artists and they extend this to every aspect of life. Using illusion as art is a logical step. At home I can do some minor things like bumps and flashes of light. I could probably do more here but nothing like what I was seeing. There were dragons of course. The Fey fear and love dragons for many reasons, one being that they are one of the few creatures that have as long a potential life as their own and another for the awesome beauty and fearsome destructive power of the beasts. Luckily, the Dragons all slept in distant realms and didn’t disturb the mortal or Fey worlds. Some were better formed than others and I took this to be young will workers learning their craft. The best one was an iridescent blue serpent that cavorted about the sky. It pranced and peeked into windows and chased people. I saw other things in the night too and wished again that Dalia was here to share it with and to tell me how it compared to the Court of Twilight. The trip was not long and neither of us talked.
This was the first time I had seen my father’s townhouse. It was a great pile of stone and it looked old. I wondered if perhaps it was a remnant of some stronghold once built as a garrison or something. I could see murder holes here and there and hoped that there was nobody planning to use them anytime soon. A large wooden gate opened and we drove into a small courtyard. The door to carriage was wrenched open by Gunga Din, (whose name I learned later was James) and we got out of the carriage. Other servants came boiling out of their holes to deal with the horses and we made our way into the massive pile of stone.
It was surprisingly light inside. From the outside appearance it looked like it would have a dank, dark look. Instead there seemed to be a warm breeze wafting through the halls and a diffused light that seemed to come from unseen recesses in the wall. As he led me past archways framed with gossamer curtains, I noticed that the breeze was scented with some flowery scent but that it didn’t move the curtains. I let my vision unfocus a little and a saw a plethora of magical effects. The place was lousy with it. At some point we went up a flight of stairs because when he opened the door to a large drawing room I notice that I could see a terrace looking out onto the early evening.
He beckoned me to a comfortable leather chair and he sent James for refreshments. I ordered Bourbon, neat, and my father had some local brew with a long name that sounded vaguely musical. After James served us, leaving me a bottle, he closed the doors and I was again alone with my father. I took a sip of very good bourbon and waited for him to make the first move.
‘Jake, my son, now is the time to tell me exactly what has brought you to me at this time. Of course, I know about the Naming Day ceremony, after all I could hardly be excluded from that no matter the oath. I had believed that it was requested by you for some reason that I couldn’t understand, perhaps as a matter involving your investigation business, now I think that must not be correct.” He saw me look at the open terrace and smiled. “This room, among others is heavily shielded from scrying. In here, even my own men, well meaning as they might be, can’t hear us. Everyone needs a private space and this is mine. Use your sight if you don’t believe me.”
‘You know about that, huh?” It wasn’t that I didn’t believe him but caution is one of those things you have to practice all the time or the time you really need it, you won’t have it. I let my vision fall about the room in the magical light and could see that this room was heavily warded indeed. The place bristled with defenses. They weren’t just passive either. There was a scrambling ward that turned attempts back on the scryer. I recognized it from a case a few years back. There were many I couldn’t identify,
“First it feels a little weird to call you “Dad” or “Father”. Can I call you Stavros?” he nodded. “Stavros, I have to admit that a lot of this case is beyond me. It’s a huge tangle and stinks of politics. Most of the cases that I deal with are just basic human, well mainly human, emotions like greed, hate and jealousy. My usual method is to find a place to start and keep pulling at things until something bites back. There’s a too much going on here that I don’t know about, so I am just going to tell you what I know and what has happened. Maybe you can make some connections from what I tell you with the political stuff that you know about.”
There didn’t seem to be any reason to hold anything back, especially if I wanted his help, so I didn’t. I started with Kevin’s death following my summons to a Naming Day ceremony I didn’t know anything about. I told him about the Sergeant Angel Bermuda and about the odd signals that were coming from the investigation. He wasn’t happy when I got to the part about Jeryn Callisandra and his face got even stormier when I mentioned Dalia. I don’t know how long it took for me to get through the thing and end with Serlisch being pinned to the burning counter, but eventually I did.
“Unacceptable!” I started to protest. “No Jake, not what you told me but what has happened. Someone is rolling dice and playing with my family. My family! I won’t have it.” He stood up and paced, considering his course of action. Perhaps five minutes passed and then he stopped and opened the door to hall. He turned to me.
“I think I have an idea of who can help us with this problem. He’s an old friend of mine and he owes me a favor or two and I cannot think of a better reason to call them in. At this time of night he might be difficult to reach, but I think I can find him.” He smiled. And once I know who is responsible for this dog’s dinner then I will have satisfaction.”
And that was just like a Fey; debts of honor, vendetta and vengeance were bread and butter for them. I couldn’t let it go down that way. I mean, sure, I wanted someone to pay for Kevin and Marty, but if there was a chance that I could get Dalia back I would take it and worry about revenge later.
“Stavros! Don’t forget about Dalia! I am sure she was alive when she was taken from the shop. We need to save her and worry about feeding the ghosts of the dead later. She’s important.”
My father smiled sadly at me. “My son, you do not know me or you would know that I could never forget Dalia. Family is very important to me. Now that you are safe, Dalia is my most important concern. But if my suspicions are correct, I will need help to set things right. In that regard, I ask that you stay here, at my house until the ceremony.”
Naming Day (Jake Underwood Book 1) Page 26