Sons (Book 2) (53 page)

“So why harass us?” Jimmy asked, smothering the C-4 candle finally.  “The wormy guy recognized him and went to get Statham.  Why?”

“Delaying you, most likely,” Dillon said.  “He thought that once you showed up, we’d be in a hurry to unload this one to load yours.  Neither of us considered that you wouldn’t even have a truck to load.”

Suddenly shouts from the door of the dock caught our attention as a man came flying through the plastic strips.  Crashing to the concrete, he rolled hard into the railing on the steps, knocking the wind from his chest and bouncing his head off the concrete a few times.  A second later a more able-bodied man was pushed through, his back to us and ready to fight some more.  The man Dillon named Corey split the plastic curtain and exited the building with the most elegance yet.  He was trailed by two more black-shirted, day-glo Security men.

The second man skittered sideways, swinging around to give himself more room and Corey’s men swung with him, advancing.  Now I had to get involved.  I’d left an open box of loaded handguns on the back of the truck.  When he moved a few more yards back, he’d see it.  I stepped through a portal to the dock just behind the truck, then shifted the six boxes to an empty utility room on Gilán.  The man just needed a gentle shove from behind to go sailing into Corey’s men, upsetting his self-defense considerably while their submission techniques had both his arms twisted into unnatural and painful shapes.  They were frog-marching him to Corey in seconds.

Another pair of men slipped out the plastic curtain and muttered to Corey as I hopped another portal to rejoin Dillon and Jimmy.  Something that surprised Corey enough to have the man repeat it.  The second time he laughed, then directed the men to pick up the semi-conscious man on the steps and the lot of them trudged down the steps to us.

Once together in the fluorescent dock lighting, it was obvious the men had been fighting, except for Corey anyway, and it was also obvious that Statham and his men were on the losing end of the battle.  Corey’s men were bruised in a few places and one had a slight trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.  The frog-marcher’s face had met the sidewalk more than once and a table’s corner was still evident in the rip of his shirt and bruising on his chest.  The one they picked up could have been hanging in some meat locker being tenderized.

“The other two seemed to have changed sides, Dillon,” Corey said in a surprisingly high baritone in such a large man.  “They found something in the back rooms that tickled their fancies a bit more than this git.”

Dillon scowled and asked, “What does that mean?”

“Mickey has them in a back room,” Corey said.  The amusement in his eyes was impossible to miss, but he kept the smile from his lips admirably.  Dillon enjoyed it thoroughly and openly though.  He laughed loudly.

“Let’s make sure that Mickey knows to take his toys with him for a while when he leaves,” Dillon said chuckling.  “Now we just have to decide what to do with you, Perry.”

“Let’s just drop them all in the Thames and be done with them,” I suggested.

“Someone’s a little cranky,” Dillon said, still smiling.  “Though it’s not too bad an idea, didn’t you say the police were watching?”

“Yeah.  So?” I asked.  It’s not like the cops would see it happening from here.  The Thames was quite some distance away.  Still, Dillon had a point: it was polluted enough.  “Let’s just send ‘em back where they came from then.” 

I looked for the sedan three blocks out, dropping the façade I held on the back of Dillon’s club.  The passenger of the car was scanning the side and back with a digital camera with a high-powered lens attached.  Dillon, Corey, and his men appeared suddenly in his view.  The driver was looking through standard binocular, scanning neighboring buildings.  On the passenger’s word, the driver shifted back to us and I immediately had his gaze.  And his mind.  He dropped his binoculars and started the car, squealing tires as he pulled away from the curb.  When the passenger pulled a pistol on the driver a moment later, I wrapped a portal around the metal and dropped the metal into my favorite dumping ground in the Atlantic.  They’d be here in a moment.

Calling the gauntlets for the armor from the Stone, I started forming a ball with the plastic explosives still in my hands to clear my fingerprints from it, taking the candlestick from Jimmy and blending it in as well.  “First, would you help Corey get Statham to his feet, please?” I asked.  Without asking questions, both Corey and Jimmy moved to Statham and picked him up by his britches, steadying his top half by his thick arms.  It hurt Statham but neither of them cared.

Dillon watched the sedan carefully from the moment it became visible on the industrial block the bar sat on.  I had him pull in slowly.  The passenger just stared at us as they parked, his shock and fear at being so obviously uncovered clear on his face.  I had the driver unlock the doors and pop the trunk before I released him so that he could share in the joys of his fellows.  Corey and Jimmy headed over without being told.  The other two followed, surrounded by Corey’s team. 

I tossed the explosive ball in guantleted hands as I walked slowly around the car to the trunk.  Inside there were three gun cases, which I promptly sent to the same utility room that housed the plastic explosives, just in case I found a need later.  Dropping the one pound ball then smooshing it down so it wouldn’t roll, I slammed the lid shut on the trunk with both hands and gave the driver a feral grin in the rearview.  Stepping around to his door, I tapped the window and dismissed the gauntlets.

Squatting down, I said to the driver, “You will drive for two hours away from here in any direction you like.  I don’t care.  You will not stop for longer than a traffic signal or
that
will explode.  You will not roll down the windows or open the doors or in any other manner attempt to exit this vehicle before those two hours are exceeded, or
that
will explode.  It was the first thing I learned to do and I do it well.”  I created a flash-bang on the hood of the car in plain sight as I walked away from the car.  It was just a hazy, pale blue light to the human eye.

Creating a wall of force through the Stone, I set the flash-bang off.  The force of the blast dented and scorched the hood and several cracks shot through the windscreen.  I didn’t think that was supposed to happen like that with safety glass.  Must have been kickback from the Stone’s wall. 

Dillon was right; I was feeling cranky and showed it when they didn’t leave fast enough.  Another flash-bang on the hood got them moving, this one brighter than the last.  It would dissipate on its own after a dozen or so blocks regardless of what they do.  I didn’t feel too bad about that though, since everything else I told them was a lie.  There was no timing mechanism attached to the C-4, no means to set off the explosion, short of someone like me putting their equivalent of a flash-bang into it.  It takes a blasting cap or better if I remember it right.

“Why don’t you two go upstairs to my office while I finish up with Murray here,” Dillon suggested.  “I won’t be a moment.”

I hesitated, barely.  My butt was falling for the couch before Jimmy was fully through the portal.  That was probably a mistake.  Jimmy quietly roamed the room and I stretched and settled onto the couch comfortably.  I dozed.  And Dillon wasn’t wrong, he didn’t take long—about fifteen minutes later, the elevator hummed, dinged lightly and he stepped out and spoke softly with Jimmy for a few minutes before they went into his office.

Another ten or fifteen minutes later Jimmy came back and quietly touched my shoulder.  He pushed gently against my aura in a peculiar way.  It took me a second to realize that he was trying to shift me to Gilán.  Jimmy was trying to put me to bed.

“That might work if I were actually asleep,” I muttered tiredly, yawning.  “Thanks, though, it was a nice thought.”

“I tried,” he said sheepishly grinning.  “I got Dillon taken care of.  He’s a nice guy.  I wonder why he and Peter didn’t work out.”

“Because if you put them together for longer than a day, they turn into eight-year-olds,” I said sagely.

“I take exception to that,” Dillon yelled from his office.

“But you don’t say I’m wrong, do you?” I yelled back.  It was silent for a moment.

“Ten, twelve, tops,” he muttered, no doubt thinking I wouldn’t hear him.

“I’m going to bed,” I said, chuckling at him.  “Good night, Dillon.  And thanks for helping me out here.  Four hundred hungry soldiers appreciate it, too.”

I shifted us to Gilán, laid my duster and clothes on the long bench of cushions, and was asleep on my bed in about fifteen seconds flat.

The Palace was eager today, excited.  It woke me a minute before sunrise, but I felt damn good.  I pushed off the bed and rose up in the air, holding in the line running directly between the focal point of the front dome and the rear and waited.  The ray of sunlight pierced the horizon and hit the tip of the dome of the Palace and instantly it began its song, the utterly complex True name of Gilán.  The Palace sang it loud and proud and I was the only being in the world who heard every voice. 

This is my world, my Gilán.  My home.

Everyone in the Palace was awakened by it, too.  The Fae were nearly ecstatic as they raised their voices with the Palace.  The barracks humans were highly confused.  The bunk rooms were rousing like reveille was called, jumping out of bed and rushing to dress, then realizing they didn’t know why.  Then they heard the Fae singing.  There were about a hundred and ten in the barracks at that time, and maybe another eighty nearby, and their voices carried.  Those with magical abilities, meager as they were, heard the Palace in balance with those abilities, which meant the Family wing heard quite a bit.

I luxuriated in the song, letting the fullness of Daybreak spread throughout the Palace and enjoying the energy and freedom it gave me.

This was a play day with the Fae, so I decided to play.  First I went for a short run.  Well, sort of a short run.  I ran from the front of the Palace to the back, jumping through the ventilation gaps of the rear waterfall and vaulting high in the air to dive into the back lake, like Ethan yesterday.  Being on the shadowed side of Palace, the lake was still quite cold and bracing, and at the bottom where the Big Fish lived…  I didn’t know water got that cold and stayed liquid, but that was the subjective opinion of my testicles talking from their new home next to my kidneys.

The nymphs were awake and moving around me but sluggish in the chill water.  Cheerful and eager, still, but slow in their movements and reactions.  I promised to return later in the day and went to dress for breakfast.  Casual being the order of my day, I went for shorts and a T-shirt.  Deciding where to go from here was more difficult.  Usually I had one of my brothers with me or something specific to do.  It didn’t help that I was still irritated with them.  I decided to visit the barracks first, then backtrack through the brownies hierarchy to find out who the head brownie is.  It occurred to me, though, that Jimmy might already know. 

Walking a different route from my bathroom to the Road wasn’t hard.  There were a couple of dozen different paths that meandered through the gardens.  And they are glorious gardens.  I suspected I would spend many days doing just that.  On the last turn before the Road, there was a cluster of fruit-bearing bushes and small trees, each promoting its offspring prominently.  Centered in the cluster was a trio of
Esteleum
bushes, its fruit golden but glowing in faint blue.  I picked four and shoved them in my shorts pockets, then some of whatever struck my fancy.  Nothing was exactly familiar—no apples or strawberries or pears, but these were something similar to apples and plums and such.

The door to my room started sliding open the moment my foot touched the Road.  A good thing considering how close I got to it, even at the slow pace of a walk.  I would have to investigate the Palace at some point in the near future and find out how it worked.  My to-do list keeps getting longer.

Jimmy stepped out of his apartment just as I stepped off the Road at his door.  The sleep served him well it seemed because, not only had his connection with Gilán deepened, but he looked better physically, far better than a few good meals could explain.  He’d gained muscle weight already and that just wasn’t possible overnight.  And his eyes, the irises now had a band of Gilán’s blue seeping through them.  He wore fresh clothes, but they were the same uniform as last night, black slacks, a Gilán-blue shirt with his name emblazoned on it, and the truncheon strapped to his right thigh. 

The First of Gilán was ready for duty.  “Good Morning, Seth!” he said boisterously.  “Hell of a wake-up call today.”

“Yeah, I think the brownies had something to do with that,” I said with a grin, handing him an
Estelium
.  “The Palace likes having something to do.  Here, you should have one of these.”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at my shorts.  “Tell me you have something in your pockets and you’re not just happy to see me,” he said, a wry grin hinting across his lips.

“My pockets are stuffed full,” I answered, raising my eyebrows and grinning.  “Just don’t ask with what.”

“So what’s on the agenda for the day?” he asked, avoiding the implicit dare.

“Kieran and I are supposed to review the geas and see where it’s breaking down so that tomorrow’s replacement will be more robust,” I said, turning us to the Road, our voices oddly dampened in the silence of the halls.  “And I’ve got a few minor jobs to do, like make Steve’s key, but over all, it’s a play day.  I was going to check on Alsooth at the barracks and maybe have some breakfast.  Then see where it went from there.”

“And what is this?  All the brownies told me was that they were ‘highly prized by humans’,” he asked, turning the nearly orange-sized fruit over in his hand. 

“That is Gilán’s version of
Esteleum
,” I told him.  “It differs from its Faery cousin in a number of ways, all of them good.  First, it tastes good, and second, it is more potent, and third, it is golden and not purple.  Ethan and I believe the coloration and part of the taste may have something to do with the Faery removing something from the seeds before allowing us to even see their version, but we don’t know that for sure.  Try it, you need to know what it’s good for anyway.”

Jimmy bit into it and immediately started sucking the juicy fruit—he had to, it was running down his face.  His aura blazed to life, the blue flames of Gilán’s power burst to his skin.  “This is good!” he mumbled, nodding enthusiastically.

“Apparently,” I said, smiling and laughing a little at the face he made.  “Can you feel that?”

He considered the question for a moment while he chewed.  “Guess not cuz I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, shrugging and shoving the rest of the
Esteleum
in his mouth.  He looked at his juice-drenched hands, then down at his clothes.

“There’s a fountain a few yards down,” I suggested.  “And I was talking about the flames.  But now that you mention it, didn’t you feel anything from the
Esteleum
?”

Jimmy chewed and swallowed the fruit as we walked to the fountain.  “I definitely felt it can do something, yes,” he said, shoving his hand under the slow moving water and cupping them to wash his face.  “But I absolutely did not know I was on fire, no.  Am I now?”

“Not ‘on fire’ exactly.  It’s more like a manifestation of your office,” I explained, my good humor obvious.  “Speaking of your office, do you know who’s in charge of the brownies here?  I was thinking I might need to staff my quarters in some way, though I seem to be cut off from the service entrances.”

“Elson is the most senior of all the clans, but he and several other clan heads believe that there is another who is better suited to be the major domo for the Palace and are waiting until after the Great Claiming to discuss that decision with us.”

“I can live with that,” I answered, stepping out onto the Road with Jimmy.  “Do you know who they have in mind?”

“Yeah, Ellorn.”

Snorting a little, I asked, “So it probably wasn’t exactly coincidental that he was in the front of the barracks last night?”

“I had considered that,” he said.  Then he sped us up.  I didn’t know that was possible.  No, wait, I hadn’t considered the possibility of it.  “I don’t think he’s that conniving and he does have the same problem sensing you as everyone else.  Why don’t you ask him?”

“You don’t think that would be mean?” I asked as we trotted down the stairs two at a time.

“I think that they believe they would be flayed alive if either of us believed they attempted such a deception,” he said firmly, stopping at the barracks door, the flames dimmed to a glow.  “Ellorn, may we have a word, please?”

“You called, First?” Ellorn asked, appearing in the doorway.  He was freshly showered and he wore a newly tailored suit consisting of a dark blue jacket and matching pants over a lighter blue, complimentary shirt.

“Yes, Ellorn, Seth has a question for you,” Jimmy said, turning to me.

“You are just mean,” I mumbled at him before asking Ellorn anything and knowing every brownie in a hundred yards was hearing me.  “Ellorn, you’re looking quite dapper this morning.”

“Thank you, Lord Daybreak,” he squealed and beamed up at me for the compliment.

“The First and I were wondering what brought you to the front of the barracks last night,” I said.  “Was there a reason you were here?”  His aura flashed into three different shades of guilt.

“Yes, Lord Daybreak,” Ellorn squeaked, for the first time, unhappy.  “The Regent maintains that you are an extraordinary man for your kind, which cannot be argued considering your unique position.  Indeed your entire family is extraordinary for a number of reasons, some obvious but most not.  My brethren and I as with all of the Saved here on Gilán were kept deep within the confines of our previous ruler’s capitol and had little to no interactions with any beings other than the elves and each other.  I felt that to better serve my Lord and my clan that I should learn more about how humans relate with each other and with us, and this was the first opportunity.  I was returning to my duties when you called.”

“Did you learn anything?” I asked, curious.

He giggled and I knew he wouldn’t have dared that in front of MacNamara or any of his elves.  Flaying wouldn’t be a bad enough punishment for that crime.

“That it is likely to be some time before we understand our Lord,” he said, smiling.  “Even the men here do not understand why you have done for them as you have.  You are challenging their beliefs quite strongly.  With the others, I believe we can build a suitable working relationship in short order.”

“Okay,” I said with a shrug and Ellorn relaxed.  As we headed into the barracks together, I asked, “How do you know I’m ‘challenging their beliefs’?  That seems kind of strange to say.”

“Major Byrnes said so to Alsooth,” Ellorn said as he led us through the corridors to the dining room.  “He said that all of the men here had reason to hate wizards and magicians and that they were evil, maniacal, and sadistic people.  Yet you have shown them more compassion and humanity than his own people who were apparently willing to let them suffer for convenience.”

We entered the dining room to find it roughly a tenth full of two-thirds of the men, but not everyone was eating.  Some had finished, but for most there was a stall in the operation.  Everyone was in excellent spirits and no one seemed the slightest bothered at the prospect of waiting.  As we stood in the hallway watching the service line wait at a standstill, a group of men hustled through the entrance to the kitchens and started refilling the steam tables with large pans of freshly cooked food, ranging from scrambled eggs and bacon to oatmeal and grits.  A quick rush on the line and twenty men moved to tables, talking boisterously and animatedly.  Pans were exchanged again quickly and another group rushed through the line.

I headed absently toward the kitchens and happened to look down to see that Ellorn was watching the service, worried.  “What’s wrong, Ellorn?”

“I have failed you, Lord,” he said, his shoulders slumped and his head hung low.

“Really?” I asked as we turned down the hall to the kitchens.  We hurried down the hall with Jimmy taking the lead in single file and moving more quickly, following the pace of the men there.  When we cleared the hall into the kitchen itself, Jimmy veered right toward the office and dry storage, basically out of the way.  “How have you failed?”

“I should have found a way to make this work,” the brownie squeaked and sighed.  At first glance, the kitchen was pure chaos.  Fifty men running in different directions, yelling and hollering at each other, throwing pans, steam rising and flame spouting from the grills.  The only constants now were the noise and the influx from the dining room of empty pans.  As I watched, though, I started to see the patterns emerging.  There were several men dedicated to cooking large pans of eggs, others to baking pans of bacon and sausage in ovens, some to stirring vats of oatmeal and grits, or washing dishes.  And in the middle of all of it, there were eighteen brownies, anywhere from a third to a half of the height of these men, running around in the middle of it running supplies back and forth.

“What’s not working?” I asked as I spotted Brinks heading toward us.  Outside of looking tired, he seemed to be in good spirits, like everyone else we’d encountered.

“We are not getting the men fed correctly and on to their next duties,” Ellorn said sadly.

I snickered a little and said, “And how is that a problem?  Dawn came about three hours early for them.  Lt. Brinks wasn’t ready for it and no one has anywhere they have to be this morning.  At worst, they are inconvenienced, but I think that’s fairly normal for them.”

“Good morning, Lord,” Brinks said cheerfully, wiping his hands on a clean apron.  He hadn’t had a clean apron when he started across the kitchen.  “Will you be having breakfast this morning?”

“We were considering it, but you look quite busy enough as it is, Lieutenant,” I said.