Chapter 8
While Pan had been walking all over town with werewolves and dead cows, Feryn had been troubling himself with palace decor.
What had once been Feryn’s bedroom had been turned into a sitting room for greeting people.
The bed had been replaced by a large carved wooden and official-looking chair, and there were several brightly colored and ornately embroidered chaises.
Pan wondered if Feryn had relocated his greeting room furniture up to the bedroom or if he’d carefully selected his favorite pieces.
Either way, the Lord of the city could now greet his people…except that he refused to see anyone outside of the humans who worked in the tavern and him.
Because Pan was not a subject for greeting, Feryn had led him to what were now Feryn’s personal chambers—though Pan could’ve done without the extra walking.
Even though he had boots, his feet hurt, and he was sure he smelled like death and fur.
Feryn’s rooms were downstairs, and since he hadn’t destroyed all the mirrors and crystals, some light managed to filter in, though it was still darker than Pan liked.
“You appear to be making good progress,” Feryn said, turning the stem of his goblet.
“Appearances mean little.” He was merely seasoning a turd and hoping to make it palatable. It was not. Feryn winced, and Pan realized his slip. “I did not mean to imply…”
He tilted his head, feigning an apology when in actual fact he did mean to imply. No one would give a fuck about the way Feryn looked as long as he did something useful. But the vampires were still in mourning, and family members were trying to console orphaned children.
“I know you did not. However, if I cannot look myself in the face, I cannot expect others to do the same. Will you be my proxy for another month?”
“Yes.” But only because it served him. Already the drak were whispering about Pan’s good deeds.
Making the most of what little magic there was to move things in their favor.
They had built a shrine by the fireplace, which wasn’t how his temples usually looked, but for the moment, it would do.
That Linda had allowed it was the bigger surprise.
She seemed to tolerate him better now that she knew he wasn’t an incubus.
Though she was not impressed with Noah’s situation and expected him to do something to untangle Noah from the coat.
How he was supposed to do that without magic, he didn’t know.
“And what do you intend to do in that time?”
The problem with being acting Lord was that he had to discuss what he was doing with Feryn, and he didn’t like reporting to anyone. It would be better if he were Lord of the city and could do as he pleased.
“We plan to rehome the dragons a little further away…mostly so we don’t gag on the scent of dragon.”
“But not too far?”
“The female cannot fly, so no, not too far, but also we do not want them unprotected, so it creates a situation that requires further thought.” He and Noah had looked at nearby parks and other open areas, but the problem was that they were too open, and humans with a vendetta may attack and find themselves incinerated or eaten, which would not be productive in having humans accept them in society.
“While we contemplate that, we also need to do something about the living arrangements of the people whose homes were destroyed. They are being housed in one giant hall, but it will not be long before tempers fray.”
“What do you propose?”
Oh, I don’t know, you have an entire fucking palace.
But the palace had no running water or waste disposal, and to the humans, that was a big deal.
Tarikians also valued those things, though not everyone had them.
Most toilets had composted, and they did not require waste to be transported elsewhere, the way humans did—what they did with it, Pan had no idea.
Learning about the human world was a headache.
The last time he’d visited, there’d been night soil carts, and people tossed the contents of their bed pans into the gutters below.
Which was as disgusting as it sounded, they’d been so backward compared to most Tarikian cities.
“I feel that assisting with rebuilding their homes would be beneficial. It would give them something to do. However, that also means the children need to be placed in school. And they cannot attend a human school until they speak English.” Not that the human school was open yet, as it was housing the humans who had no houses.
Examining one problem opened up three more, and it was exhausting.
No, he did not want to truly be Lord of the city, as it left little time for pleasure.
“And how are the English lessons going?”
“They have begun. And they are intensive. Linda has friends coming over as of tomorrow for what she is calling beer, bingo, and banter.” He used the English words. “I have been told bingo is a game with numbers, so it will be useful.”
She also had plans for other games which involved letters, but it was much harder to learn a written language than it was a spoken one because there was no felt intent behind the inked words.
Explaining that to humans had taken time, and they had explained how they usually learned a language, by repetition and rote.
So he’d spent an hour trying to teach them to feel for the meaning of the word, and at the end of it, his throat had been raw, and he was sure that he would’ve gotten a better response out of a plank of wood.
The drak were also joining the English lessons.
“Your people are welcome to join, and I am sure that you and your advisors would find it useful to continue.”
Feryn grunted. “How many humans will be there?”
“I am not sure. Though I believe Linda is testing it out with only a handful.” She didn’t want the event to get out of hand, nor did she want those she called bigots to attend and make trouble.
She had vetoed Web and Liam attending, claiming that they wouldn’t want to hang out with a bunch of old people.
Pan suspected it was because she hated Web more than him.
He was glad he was not the only one who found Web distasteful.
He was sure not even the vampires would bite him.
Web was the only thing they agreed on because she thought the drak were delightful and had attempted to mew at them, much to everyone’s mirth.
However, he had no doubt they would be communicating smoothly in English and Drak before long.
Noah also didn’t mind them, but that was only because he had never had his eyebrows burned off.
“I will continue with my breakfast lessons.”
Pan nodded and pretended that was fine. At some point, Feryn was going to have to leave the palace.
“Samhain will be with us in a few short weeks. Have you considered hosting some kind of…event?” It was always part-celebration to give thanks for the year that had passed, part-remembrance for those who have been lost, and part placing wishes for the year ahead. It was usually held at a temple.
So far, he had not found one.
“I have, and usually, I would open my palace gardens and temple. However, I have neither.”
“I believe it would be an important gesture on your part, as rightful Lord. Perhaps a time to lead people out of their mourning and into rebuilding.”
“I will consider it, but you cannot put a timeline on grief, god. And I do not think you understand mortal pain.”
“I am not immortal, merely long-lived. And I have lost the same as everyone else. I have had no contact from my siblings. I do not know if I am the only one to have survived. All I can assume is that we are all cut off from magic. We are scrabbling in the rubble of our world. We are blind and deaf to the pleas of our people, and even if I could hear their prayers, I cannot answer them the way I once did.”
Feryn smiled. “Yet you are managing.”
Was he? It felt as though he’d done precious little when there was so much to do.
“I am because I have humans who understand this world. We need to make connections. We need to plead our case because, at the moment, human houses and human needs are taking priority. We are an afterthought, the new arrivals they are forced to account for but do not want. We need to prove our place in this city, this country, this world.”
“We should not need to prove our place,” Feryn snarled.
“Agreed…however, we are strangers, and they do not know us except from their tales—and not all of them are flattering.”
“Perhaps they should learn some of the tales we have of them. Not all of them are flattering. Do they want to learn of the dragon hunters, the thieves who came to our world seeking wealth, and those who sought slaves?”
“They have their own tales of such things.” The human world was a grim, magicless place where everyone jostled for power, however slight, and those at the top seemed not to care about the bodies they stepped on in their climb.
Plenty of humans cheered at the fall of others, judging by the reactions to the news of a billionaire in a private jet being taken down by griffins in America despite the warnings not to fly.
“They embrace the cruelty while in the same breath cursing it.”
“Then we need to show them that there is a better way.”
And if they didn’t learn? “I will do my best.”
“And I will pray for the return of your magic and encourage others to do the same.”
“Thank you.” Pan held out his hand for Feryn to bite his wrist and take his blood, sealing their agreement for another month. He winced as Feryn’s teeth slid into his skin. “Do you taste any magic this time?”
Pan’s pulse echoed in his ears as he waited for the vampire to finish. He tried not to hope, as he believed he already knew the answer.
Feryn lifted his head and licked his lip. “No. The drak may see you as a god, but you do not taste like one.”
“And how many gods have you tasted?” he snapped, blaming the relief of being right, and the disappointment of being wrong, which was an unsettling mix at the best of times, and this time was nowhere close to being the best of anything.
How many other gods had stooped this low?
“None. But you taste of no more magic than a human.”