Moonlight(Pact Arcanum 3) (32 page)

Andrea focused on them both, examining them through the prism of the Gift of Air. “It worked. Neither of them is registering as Winds or as active Sentinels.” She smiled at Ethan. “You did it.”

“Then there’s just one more loose end.” He closed his eyes and began casting again, and this time the amber light centered on him. When he finished the words, the glow faded.

He opened his eyes and turned to face his two bandmates. “Let’s go home.”

Cathedral of the Sky, Anchorpoint City, Colorado

Rafael was always struck by the sheer scale of the building: a tall white dome arising from a plain of glass. The Armistice engineers had scrubbed the radiation from the entire expanse of the glass desert below the point where Michael Danvers had died to save the city, almost eighteen months earlier. The building had been constructed in his honor, the only single structure in the Armistice large enough to hold the numbers of people who had asked to attend the memorial service. Every inhabitant of Anchorpoint had labored on the cathedral in some way, whether in the construction itself, clearing the irradiated environment, or creating and tending to the meditation gardens that surrounded the building. At equidistant points around the structure were sixteen four-sided obelisks of polished basalt quarried from the Mare Arcanum that surrounded the Citadel. The obelisks were collectively inscribed with the names of the 1.2 million people who had remained in the city when the
Horizon
struck down the missile that threatened to claim all their lives.

The dome, itself, was constructed of elysium, the strongest material known to Armistice science, necessary to support the weight of the immense span. The inner surface carried a continuous projection of space as seen from the central spire of the Citadel. The inner walls showed real-time images of each of the Colonies and orbital stations. It was the embodiment of the Spacer Guild brought to Earth.

Michael would have been proud.

And it was in the tunnels below that the Armistice laid to rest its heroes, those who had died in the service of peaceful coexistence. Tobias Jameson’s final resting place.

There had been those who grumbled at Nick’s decision to bury Toby and the other Nexus hosts there, saying that the Nexus was a polarizing element rather than a force for peace. Those whispers had largely subsided the moment the funeral began, when the night sky had winked out overhead and was immediately replaced by thousands of digital avatars, as the AI network gathered to bear witness.

The funeral had not been small, or short, while each of the Armistice Security agents who had fallen in San Francisco and Chicago were honored in turn. The friends and family of each of the dead had been invited to give testimony. There was no rush, and no timetable. It took as long as it took. The Sentinels honored sacrifice, and the AIs and vampires were immortal. Only the humans showed signs of flagging by the end, but they remained stoic to show their respect.

All in all, Rafael was happy it was over. He had not spoken up during the ceremony, feeling that others could find better words to pay homage to Toby’s memory. He remained afterward for one purpose only, to offer a different kind of tribute.

The meditation gardens were huge, and those of the mourners who had not departed were scattered throughout, finding solace either alone or in groups, but they respected the others’ need for space. He sat quietly on a granite bench in the small park nestled at the base of the fourth obelisk, basking in the silence. He did not open his eyes until he heard the heartbeat he was waiting for and felt her unique aura. Then he stood and bowed.

“Prince Layla. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”

She dressed in a formal black gown, forgoing her usual Daywalker colors for the somber occasion. “I came because you asked me here in memory of my husband, Rafael Tribunus Tervilant.”

Rafael winced. “I renounced my blood rank when I abandoned my duty to my House in order to join the Armistice, Lady. I have no right to be addressed by my former title.”

“You were an officer in the armies of Xavier Magister Tervilant and military governor of Marseilles when House Tervilant claimed the territories left vacant after the Burning. Your service was honorable. Why hide who you were?”

“Lady, my service was to destroy my master’s enemies, and those of his friends of which he grew weary. There was no honor in my actions, only duty.”

“Is that why you have refused to seek the Grace? You fear the touch of the White Wind because of the things you have done. Are your sins so much greater than mine?”

Rafael looked away. “You committed atrocities in defense of your House. I did the same simply because I followed orders. Which of us has honor enough to face the judgment of the Light?” He took a deep breath. “Have I somehow offered offense, Lady? It was not my intention to antagonize you. There’s no reason we should be at odds.”

She studied the Nightwalker appraisingly. “Rafael, I know you desired him.”

Rafael tensed, expecting her to attack. “I don’t know what—”

She cut him off. “You fed on him when you knew I had a prior claim. Simple friendship would never have driven you to be so reckless. I would have been well within my rights to challenge you immediately for such a blatant slight to my honor.”

Rafael watched her warily, ready to teleport away at the slightest provocation.
Where can I run to? Nowhere in the Armistice, and I am a renegade to the Court.
“And yet you did not.”

“No, I did not.” She ambled past him and sat upon the bench he had vacated. She cocked her head while she watched him. “It’s true, then. You wanted him.”

Rafael’s shoulders slumped. If she took offense, there was no escape. He might as well be honest. “I loved him,” he whispered. He raised his eyes to meet hers. “But he saw only you, so I said nothing.”

“You said nothing. You
did
nothing, save for that one lapse, and Tobias told me that he initiated it. He didn’t understand what the act meant, and I saw no reason to enlighten him. You acted with honor and courtesy. I have no grounds to contend with you.” She sighed. “He was intoxicating at times, was he not?”

Rafael sat on the bench next to her, a respectful distance away. “Yes, he was.”

“Why did you ask me for this meeting, Rafael?”

Rafael looked away. “I wanted to offer you a gift.” He cupped his hands in front of himself and summoned. His palms were filled with vibrant green light, which faded to reveal a small black glass bottle. He laid the bottle on the bench between them. “You deserve to have this more than I.”

She stared at him with wide eyes. “Is this—?”

“The bottle of Selene that Toby gave me before the wedding. You should have the memories in his blood. It is only fitting.” He stood to leave. “Good night, Lady.”

“Rafael Tervilant.”

He turned around at the tentative note in her voice.

“Would you care to join me in a toast?”

He blinked. “Lady?”

She summoned two crystal flutes to her hands, inscribed with the seal of House Curallorn, and placed them on the bench next to the bottle. “Sit and drink with me, Rafael. We can share his memory.”

Rafael sat again on the bench and picked up the bottle, stripping away the foil wrapping and drawing out the cork with telekinesis. Then he poured a generous amount of the red liquor into each of the two flutes and set the bottle down. He waved his hand over the two glasses in a warming cantrip and heated them to body temperature.

Layla took one of the glasses, and he took the other. “The Redeemer is partial to a toast he saves for special occasions.” She tapped her glass against his, making a pure tone in the night air. “To endings and new beginnings.”

“To endings and new beginnings,” he repeated. Then he took a sip of the bloodwine, pausing to savor the soul echoes within.

They drank in silence, each lost in thought. Finally, Layla set her empty flute down on the cold stone of the bench. “I have a proposition for you, Rafael.”

Rafael took a final sip from his glass and set it down, as well. “Indeed?”

“You are a traitor to House Tervilant. Have you considered swearing allegiance to a new House? Your honor would be reborn.”

Rafael shrugged. “No Magister in the Court would entertain such an offer to succor a deserter, and there are only three Magisters within the Armistice. The Redeemer has chosen to take no new scions, and Nicholas prefers the company of Sentinels.”

“And House Curallorn?”

Rafael looked at her sidelong. “I have nothing to offer House Curallorn.”

She smiled. “Nicholas has sworn himself to be Champion to my son. That responsibility will not leave much room to be his friend.”

Rafael raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You’d offer me sanctuary in return for being a friend to Antonio?”

“You loved Tobias. Can you love his son when he cannot?”

“Nick has spoken to me of the bargain he made with the White Wind. They intended him to be Toby’s voice in the child’s life.”

She growled, her eyes shading toward red. “I have no interest in the machinations of the White Wind. Nicholas is a stripling. His strength makes him an ideal choice as Champion, but Antonio will still need a guide. Someone who has no claim on his allegiance other than friendship. Someone he can turn always to as an equal. Someone to teach him perspective beyond a mortal lifespan. You served in this role with both Nicholas and Tobias. Can you do it again?”

Rafael stared at her thoughtfully and then poured himself another measure of Selene. “Lady, I thank you for the offer. I shall consider it.”

* * *

Rory watched from behind a shroud of invisibility as Nick absently ran his fingers through Antonio’s hair to soothe the crying infant in his arms. The baby had known of Toby’s death immediately, and had been inconsolable afterward. Only Layla’s presence could calm him down, and she had disappeared on some personal errand that she refused to disclose.

Nick simply stared into the distance, completely still as he contemplated the meditation gardens from one of the stone benches. Jeremy sat silently next to him, neither of them choosing to burden each other with words of comfort.

Rory extended his mind to the man standing next to him.
“Do you think he’ll be able to adapt?”

Lorcan’s thoughts were harsh as he watched his former lover from concealment.
“He has to. He doesn’t have any other option. Mortals die. He has to face that truth and accept it.”

Rory sighed.
“There must be some way we can make this easier for him.”

“There isn’t,”
Jeremy answered in their minds. He chuckled at their surprise.
“Come on, guys. You’re thinking so loud, I’m surprised even Nick didn’t realize you’re watching us.”

“We didn’t mean to intrude,”
thought Lorcan.
“We’ll leave you two alone.”

“Yes, you will,”
thought Jeremy,
“but someday, after the rest of us are gone, he’ll need you two to pick up the pieces.”

“Jeremy,”
thought Rory,
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“Don’t be coy, Rory. I know about the arrangement the two of you decided on during our wedding. It’s in your thoughts all the time. Yours too, Ruarc. In fact, I’m impressed. Sharing him? Quite an elegant solution to your little dilemma.”

“Jer,”
thought Lorcan,
“we didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“I know.”
Jeremy turned his head to face directly at their hiding place.
“I swear I will be there for him for as long as I’m alive, but then you have to take up the slack. He’ll be resistant at first, but if you’re patient, he’ll accept you both. Promise me that you’ll keep him from isolating himself, that he won’t be alone.”

“He won’t be alone,”
whispered Rory.

Jeremy turned back to Nick.
“Good. Now go away and let him grieve.”

Lorcan and Rory said nothing more as they both quietly walked away.

CHAPTER 39

April 2043; Armistice Security Headquarters, Anchorpoint City, Colorado; One month later

Nick frowned at Andrea. “Why?”

She shrugged. “Does it matter? I accepted their offer, so I’m your new Nexus Liaison. I’ve already received my implants and a sixth generation AI. When do you want me to get started?”

Rory leaned forward to fold his arms on the sandalwood council table. “We were debating the details of the increased deployment of sixth generation implants beyond the Spacer Guild to upgrade the Armistice population on Earth. If you’re up for it, you can get started now.”

Andrea smiled and subvocalized to her AI. “Ready, brother?”

Toby chuckled in her ears. “Whenever you are, sister.”

REVENANT

DEDICATION

To the Lord of Daybreak, for giving me inspiration and a modicum of talent. To my family and friends, without whom I would not be here. To Jerry, for his constant criticism and support as I wrote it all down, and for badgering me into making the attempt to get the story published. To Katy and Karul for acting as a sounding board. To the folks at IWU and II, for making me welcome.