Chapter 39 #2
We were sitting side by side at his desk going over the accounts.
I’d found what Nevan and Neil had done with the money, and Aidan was less than pleased.
They had failed at a speculation, a rather large one, and had used Sídhetír coffers to cover it up, which explained why they were so feral to make another investment to cover this debt before Aidan found it.
Seeing the mistake made me smile, though. I had always felt like all of my older brothers were near perfect, and yet, here in plain ink, they weren’t, and it soothed something deep inside of me.
“There are also a large amount of bills, because Mother spent far more than Father would’ve ever allocated to the party,” I commented.
Aidan swore again. “I told her to use whatever she wanted.”
I laughed. “She took you at your word.”
“So it would seem.”
“Sevrin and Phineas have both neglected paying back what they borrowed for more horses—Sevrin’s idea, no doubt. And I see both Whit and Thomas have credited things to Sídhetír.”
“I might murder all of our greedy brothers. They are taking advantage of the fact I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Yes and no,” I said with another laugh. “Father gave each of them an allowance and allowed them to charge some things to Sídhetír credit, but not this much. They probably assumed you wouldn’t care. I very much doubt they were being malicious, but more taking advantage of your generosity.”
He shook his head. “I hate this part of being lord. I excel at handling large problems or people, and when I don’t, I put the person in a room with Cethin.
He swears he does no more than stare at them, but I find them much more willing to compromise by the time I return. But the fine minutiae? I do not enjoy.”
“We are the opposite,” I said with a laugh, remembering all of the times Aidan would speak for me. A smile tugged at my lips and peace descended. It was as if we’d stepped back in time, only better. We were both being open with each other once more.
“No more secrets,” I whispered. “Right, Aidan?” I glanced at my brother, and he had a sad smile on his face. “What?”
“You have necromancer blood.”
My pulse thundered in my ears. “We all do.”
“It’s latent in the rest of us, an oddity that might pop up in our brothers’ children’s children. But you?” He shook his head. “You could be a necromancer if you wanted.”
“How did you know?”
“I’ve known since I became lord about Rhett’s sister, but I didn’t suspect anything about you until after all of this and you told me everything.
You were sensing Ilene Maher and the dead.
Because you were there, John Hillridge was allowed to move on.
You are a necromancer, or rather, you could be one if you desired. ”
“It’s evil,” I said, shivering.
Aidan pursed his lips. “I don’t know if I agree.”
“What?” I gaped at him. He had read what it had done to Harriet. He had seen what it had done to Mrs. Maher. How could he even think that?
Aidan stood and turned toward the window, his arms behind his back, and I smiled. How many times had I seen Father standing in that exact position as he delivered sage wisdom to me?
“Magic is neither good nor bad, Oren. I have met Sídhetír; I have felt them; I have been them.” Aidan faced me, and the faraway look had returned.
“They are neither good nor evil. All magic is the same. It can be used for good or for evil. It can be used to heal or destroy. It is up to the person wielding it. If you chose to venture down this road, I cannot believe that you would be anything but good.”
“There is no good to be done with that type of magic,” I argued. “Only death.”
He smiled, but I caught an edge that didn’t belong to him. “Even the dead need help, especially when they cannot leave this plane. There is good in it, but you do not have to choose to walk this path.”
Aidan came closer, and my heart throbbed because the fathomless eyes and hard expression were not his. He said, “Everything is a choice, Oren Byrne. Aidan made one when he placed his name by his forefathers.”
“Sídhetír,” I squeaked.
“You must make one. All life is a choice. Yes, your fate has been written in the stars, in the moon, in the sun, but how you reach the destination is a myriad of choices.” Sídhetír crouched in front of me.
“You were never meant to be mine, Oren. Not ever. But I still hear you. Thank you for saving Aidan by living.” Sídhetír touched my cheek.
“Make a choice, but know only you can decide if it is good or evil.”
The expression vanished, and Aidan blinked, swallowing several times.
“Aidan?” I asked.
“It’s me,” he replied, voice thick. “Sídhetír needed to speak to you.”
“Do they do that often?”
“Sometimes. I’m an easier vessel than anyone before me. It’s my fae blood.”
I wrapped my arms around my brother, shaking. “Don’t lose yourself.”
He laughed. “I will not leave you.”
That didn’t comfort me. Aidan could very well lose himself to the might of Sídhetír and not leave me at the same time.