Authors: Scott V. Duff
“Yes, Lord,” they squeaked together and disappeared back down the hallway.
“Seth, your aura’s still up,” Peter murmured then tore off Connor’s shirt. “What’s wrong with their chests?”
“Allergic reaction to the fibers,” I said, ripping Coulter’s sleeves off and throwing it in the corner. Guitar came back and silently held out scissors to me. “Thank you, Guitar. I’m sorry that I was so harsh a moment ago.”
“Thank you, Lord, but we understand your urgency,” Guitar said with a sweet and easy smile.
“I’m taking them down to the pool, Guitar, so clean me off, please,” I said, cutting into Coulter’s pants. Guitar was back with a basin and a few hand towels before I could start on the second leg.
“Seth, this one looks different,” Peter said, cutting down his second pant leg.
“That’s Connor,” I muttered. “What do you mean, ‘different’? What’s different about him?” Coulter’s rash looked horrible and the little bastard voided his bowels at some point.
“Hair’s lighter, features have softened, and he looks younger,” Peter answered. “Awww! And he shit his pants!” Snickering, I stole a towel from Guitar and rolled Coulter over gently. Peeling the last of the Faery cloth from him, I cleaned his butt as well as I could while Guitar was cleaning the blood off my legs. Gibson came back with a tray with water, cups, and the
Esteleum
I’d asked for, then darted off to arrange for food. Pete dove after the water, but I wasn’t six inches behind him. Between us we drained the first pitcher, not realizing just how thirsty we were. I tossed Pete an
Esteleum
, took one myself, and pocketed the rest.
“Let’s get ‘em downstairs,” I said and picked Coulter up. He was smaller, less bulky but just as heavy. “You coming, Guitar?”
“After I pick up a little, Seth,” Guitar said, already diligently working.
Shifting the four of us to the tidal pool in my bathroom, I walked slowly down the steps carrying Coulter, my legs stinging like hell in the warm water. Suspending the boy in the water easily at waist level, I took a good look at him again. He had changed physically and the
Hant
was still active in his mind in little ways under the blaze of the geas. His hair was light brown and his complexion lighter, too. He looked like a younger version of…
“He’s you!” Peter whispered in horror, staring at Connor. “Damn it, there’s three of you now?”
“I’m not sure why that’s happened, exactly,” I said softly. “It could be a similarity to Eliot mixed with the
Hant
changing them. Maybe this is some sort of tribute or protection or something. They’ll be coming around any moment and full of energy.” Connor stirred slightly, making me look in their direction and finally see Peter. “You’re filthy, Pete. You mean to bring the Hinterlands with you?”
“That where we were?” he asked, feigning ignorance and grinning at me.
Both boys stirred as I tugged my shirt over my head. “You might want to get cleaned up, too, Pete.”
Coulter thrashed hard in the water, still unconscious, and Connor started a low keening noise. I raised my aura again, facing them to watch anxiously. This should happen quickly. Connor thrashed, still keening. Coulter joined the noise, then they both thrashed and fought with the water, drowning themselves below the surface. That’s why I’d come here–they couldn’t drown in my pool. They broke the surface in unison a second later with a cry of “Daddy!”
“I’m right here, boys,” I said easily and initiated the first communion link with my sons. They jumped on me, Coulter around my chest and Connor around my neck, hugging me tightly. I snaked an arm around each boy and squeezed affectionately.
“I really never expected to hear that word referring to you,” Peter said quietly. “I hoped and still do, but I really didn’t expect it.” He tossed his shirt to the poolside and fell backward into the water. He left a smear of dirt and grit in the oily water. I waited until he surfaced a few yards away.
“Look, boys,” I said, pointing out the massive dirt spill. “That’s all that’s left of my poor brother, Peter.” Peter was wiping excess water from his hair and face when he heard me and swung about, forewarned that I was up to something. The boys perked their heads up and looked, still clutching me. “Poor Uncle Pete, left nothing but a dull mark on the world.”
“Seth!” Peter objected, whining a little in confusion.
“Uncle Pete’s not gone, Daddy!” Connor shouted gleefully, whipping around to Peter.
“He’s right there!” shouted Coulter, pointing gleefully behind me and jumping up and down on the bottom. And on my feet—children are dangerous!
“’Uncle Pete’,” Peter murmured. “Didn’t expect that for a while, either.” He grinned romantically at the thought. At the same time, I drawled, “So he is. All the way over there. Well… Get him, boys!” Instantly, the boys were under water and heading for Peter. “What?” Peter asked quickly, then just as quickly was jerked below the surface with a surprised look on his face.
My laughter was the only sound in the pool as Gibson and Guitar strolled in carrying towels for us. Within a few seconds, one of the boys, Coulter I think, shot ten feet above the surface with a squeal and flailing limbs. Peter came up a moment later and tossed the brother after his twin, squealing just as raucously. Once the twins surfaced, they giggled then bracketed Peter again for another attack. All three of them wore wicked, mischievous grins.
“Boys,” Peter said slowly, not relaxing his defensive pose a millimeter or taking his eyes off either of them. “I think you’ve been given the wrong target here. I think we should go after… Daddy.” Oh, crap.
I don’t remember who hit me first, but I swear it was Peter. The boys were certainly willing participants, over-anxious participants, really. And they were
fast
and
strong
, far more than any eleven-year-olds should be. They wore us out quickly, but they hadn’t just torn apart two mountains either. Between the three of them, they had to have dragged me under over twenty times, not that I didn’t get my fair share of rough-housing in with them, but where was the fun if they couldn’t win once in a while? But I was battered enough for one day, so I took the easy way out.
“Gibson, is lunch ready?” I asked loudly when everyone was above water.
“Yes, Lord Daybreak,” Gibson answered. The twins came instantly to my side, staring at the brownies with curiosity.
“Okay, boys, let’s go eat,” I said and headed for the steps.
“Who are they, Daddy?” Connor asked in a whisper, taking my hand with Coulter taking the other.
“That’s Guitar and this is Gibson,” I said, leading them up the steps where Gibson waited with a towel. “Thank you, Gibson. They’re brownies and my valets, of sorts. They take care of my room and now, you two, as well. Gibson, this is Connor and this is Coulter.”
“Hello,” Connor said meekly.
Gibson smiled broadly at both boys. “Hello, Connor. Hello, Coulter. It is a great pleasure to meet you, the sons of our Lord.”
“Hello, Connor, Coulter, it is an honor to be of service,” Guitar said pleasantly, offering a towel to each boy.
“Thank you, Guitar,” Coulter said shyly, taking the towel slowly from the brownie. Then he looked up at me and asked, “Daddy, why are they so small?”
That question, of course, gave courage to Connor, who asked, “What’s a brownie?” which was quickly followed by, “Where are we, Daddy?” Then the deluge of questions from both of them started in earnest. Peter passed me with a grin and a swagger.
“Calm down, boys, calm down,” I urged them. “We’ll get all your questions answered, but it’s going to take some time and we’re going to go slow at first to make it fun instead of shocking. Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” Connor agreed. “Yes, Dad,” Coulter echoed.
“All right, then, let’s have a look at you both and make sure you’re good and clean, then off to lunch,” I said and knelt before a smiling Connor. Grinning at him, I dropped a dry towel over his head and started patting his lean body dry, looking for deformities or damage I hadn’t seen. With a clean bill of health, I draped the now-damp towel over his shoulders and did the same to Coulter. He differed only by a minor abrasion from the pool that was already healing from the water.
Taking their hands, I led them into the bathroom and wrapped dry towels around their waists and mine, then started answering some of their questions about where they were, the brownies, Gibson and Guitar, and other minor things. They were in awe of my bathroom, never having seen such grandeur before. Something about inlaid marble, silver fixtures, and indirect lighting did that, I’m sure, but coming out of the bathroom and into my gardens was even more startling for them.
“Dad, is that a roof?” Connor asked, staring up at the ceiling.
“Dad, where’s the ground?” Coulter asked, pressing every inch of skin he could against me.
“Yes, Connor, that’s a roof,” I said patiently while making an impatient grimace at Peter over their heads, out of sight. “We’re in the Palace, remember, Coulter? We’ll go outside in a couple of days, once we’ve gotten better acquainted. Maybe as early as tomorrow, we’ll go into the back garden for a half hour or so.”
“Really?” from Connor and “Can we?” from Coulter at the same time. I smiled down at their excited faces, kept walking, and wondered how long I could keep this pace up. “Thanks, Peter, for sticking around to help me with the boys,” I said cheerfully. Coulter looked up at Peter smiling and took his hand, happily unaware of any undertones.
“All I’ve done is play in the pool for half an hour,” my brother said, squeezing Coulter’s hand. “And that was loads of fun, watching them beat the crap outta you!”
I burst out laughing and the boys giggled. We walked another few yards and found the table set in a bright spot among the trees. Gibson set four plates and settings close together then filled the table with enough different food to feed ten people and have some left over. Urging Connor along with Peter, I got Coulter seated, then sat down myself. “Gibson, you’ve done splendidly! Thank you! Boys, what do you think? Do you know anything on the table? Or maybe something you’d like to try?”
We played the staring game between the six of us and items on the table. Guitar had set the two
Esteleum
from the pool before each boy’s setting, and that addition attracted their attention more than anything.
“That’s called
Esteleum
, and it’s a very special fruit,” I said, reaching out and putting the fruit on their plates. They stared intently between the fruit and me while Peter dished himself a bowl of stew. “It’s magical, grows only in Faery–or in this case, Gilán– and has amazing healing powers. Go on. Take a bite. Try it.” One bite was enough to show them. Oh, yes, they liked that very much and could they have some more. I explained when they could and couldn’t eat it, which confused their eleven year old minds, so we decided on “when I said so” for a while and continued on. It seemed that all the
Esteleum
did was increase their appetites and their abilities to eat, because eat they did, enough for four of them. Each.
“All right, now, first things first,” I said, trying to draw plans together in my head. The boys needed my attention for at least a full day, probably two, before they could handle even
seeing
most of the general population of the Palace. Till now, they’d only known Mioreala and Eliot, and the Palace blocked the other faery for me. Guitar and Gibson were the first people outside of Peter and me they’d ever met. I desperately needed them. “Guitar, Gibson, I’m going to have to ask that you change your way of operating for a few days. Word of my boys doesn’t leave this room for the next three days, but so we’re not killing you two, I want you to cater out. Use whatever resources you need, just don’t explain why. Blame it on me. Anything you need, from washing dishes to cooking. I’d rather your attention be on Connor and Coulter. Okay?”
“Yes, Lord Daybreak,” the brownies squeaked in unison.
“Good,” I said, smiling. Raising my consciousness into the geas, I sought Ellorn and First and found them both busily at work on different projects, both with the
huri
. “Ellorn, First, would you come to my room in about fifteen minutes, please? I need to talk to both of you,” I said aloud and through the geas.
Yeah, Seth, be there in a few,
Jimmy answered cheerfully.
Yes, Lord
, Ellorn answered politely, though I felt the swell of pride when he spoke to me. “Guitar, will you meet them at the door, please? We’ll be seeing if my closet has anything that will fit the twins.”
“Very good, Lord,” Guitar answered. “Shall I bring them to you, sir?”
“That’ll be fine,” I said. “Come on, boys, let’s go get dressed.” That was apparently a cue for questions to begin again. “Daddy, will we grow up big like you?” Connor asked. “Why do we have to get dressed?” Coulter asked. I wasn’t sure they were breathing between questions, but they certainly weren’t waiting for answers before asking another. Listening to Peter snicker, I just walked along with them, holding their hands while they leaned against me and asked and asked.
Once we were in the bathroom, I looked back at Peter. He took the hint and moved around the chattering boys to the mirror. “How would you like to dress for the rest of the day?” The boys quieted now, watching Peter and perhaps sensing my magic at work in the mirror.