Chapter 28
Saer settled into a familiar pattern of conversation after several hesitant starts, staying away from uncomfortable or sensitive topics.
He relayed tales of where he’d ventured in the world and lessons learned.
Alus entertained as he prepared various dishes to taste and experience, regaling Saer with tidbits of information on how the food was grown, picked, or prepared.
He touched on the most superfluous of details: the quirks of the farmers who tended the fields, the names of their family members—even who they shared their beds with.
The humble kitchen in the corner of the adobe saturated with rich, redolent aromas.
Saer came to the point of finding the Twins when Arek broke in from his side of the table.
“You realize you could have found us quicker by wing as opposed to boat?” He’d long since stopped eating, allowing Alus and Saer to get their fill, though his fingers wrapped around a ceramic mug topped with freshly squeezed orange juice.
Saer fell to staring at his own mug. Alus, surprisingly, didn’t fill the void, but allowed time to consider his answer—or whether he’d answer at all.
He cleared his throat. “She’s easier to remember when I wear this skin.”
In truth, he had a hard time understanding it himself. Another human thing?
Alus resumed his quiet humming as he gathered dishes despite the heavier air settling around the kitchen table.
Drumming his fingers on his mug, Saer turned to Arek. “During Runeakael’s last battle, some of the humans wielded ice and warded fire.”
Arek’s expression shifted to curiosity. “You saw magic.”
Saer narrowed his eyes, brow furrowing.
The trademark smirk on Greed’s face spoke volumes. “Ignorance is the price you pay for staying away from home.”
Impatience, above all, punctuated Saer’s glare. “I haven’t had a home since Neyu died.”
Alus broke between the two with a finger snap, rupturing the tension. “Cobras and mongooses have more levity between them than the two of you. You.” Alus pointed at his twin, earning a humorless stare. “Stop acting superior. You.” The finger swung towards Saer. “Quit pouting.”
“I’m not pouting.”
Alus ignored Saer’s lie and ended with an as-you-will gesture at Arek. “Tell him about magic, Gorgeous. Without the sniping commentary.” The amiable twin spun back around to fill a basin with water.
Saer paused in muted disbelief, trying to figure out how Alus handled two sensitive, posturing males with such grace, and remained just as likable after the fact.
Arek grunted before returning to the conversation at hand. “Mages are created from a lineage touched by the Grandfather in one way or another.”
Saer shook his head. “You’ve lost me.”
“You’ve seen the Draconic take human form?”
He nodded.
“They can make children with humans. Their blood carries the magic.”
The realization and implications must have shown on Saer’s face, because Alus glanced over, then filled in some of the blanks. “Not all these humans carry the talent. Sometimes the strength of their powers seems to correlate with closer proximity to the original source—but not always.”
“So, a direct descendant of the Draconic might have more…magic?” The word tasted odd on Saer’s tongue.
Gluttony shrugged and brought over three smaller mugs holding a deep and rich brown concoction within. “They’re rare enough. We haven’t figured out all the ins and outs yet.” He set the mugs on the countertop, drawing Saer’s focus.
“What in the Hells is this?”
Alus’s smirk somehow carried more good humor than Arek’s, even if it should have looked the same. He plucked up Saer’s hand, then stuck one of the small mugs in his palm. “This comes from cacao beans. It’s delicious. Indulge me.”
Saer cocked an eyebrow and lifted the mug to his nose, taking an experimental sniff.
Arek lifted his own. “He’s right about this one, Eldest. Cheers.”
“Cheers,” Alus repeated.
Saer angled his head, then sipped.
He couldn’t remember tasting anything so decadent in his life. Saer’s eyes shut, reveling in the thick, all-encompassing taste. As the sumptuous liquid flowed over the back of his tongue, it reminded him of the sin Neyu had been made from. Bittersweet, and never enough.
He sighed at the end, licking the remnants from his lower lip.
How did Alus know precisely what to do, and offer, to make everything better with the world?
“Neyu would have loved this,” Saer whispered before he could think twice.
The Twins nodded, for once a sober expression on both their faces.
Saer took a heartbeat to consider. Gluttony kept bringing them to common ground, balancing his inherent frustration and antagonistic nature.
But he couldn’t remain in the comfort zone.
Saer pivoted to Greed. “Do you know where Errshek is?”
Arek met Saer’s gaze, neither denying nor conceding. “Tell me why you search for him.”
Something between ire and annoyance pinched Saer’s chest, but Arek went on, “It’s important to me—”
On the other side of the table, Alus made a noise.
“To us...to know why,” Arek amended.
Gluttony gave Greed a subtle thumbs up and then gathered the mugs to resume his clean up.
“It’s his fault Neyu is dead.”
“How do you know that?” Arek asked.
Saer scowled. “He as good as admitted it after the fact.”
Arek drummed fingertips on his mug, frowning. “You don’t think there’s more to that story?”
“What are you suggesting you know, Areknar?”
Ever the phlegmatic one, Arek didn’t flinch under Saer’s burning stare. “I know there’s plenty of blame to go around for Neyu’s unmaking.”
Errshek had gotten to them. He must have.
“Be careful with your insinuations.”
Alus cut in as he dried a plate with a rag.
“My Lord Hubris, much as it must pain you, not everything is about you.” By tone alone, he managed to speak the words without insult.
“Ney made her own choices. She had a very good understanding of the consequences to those choices and she followed her heart anyway—if you’ll excuse the very human turn of phrase. ”
The corner of Saer’s eyes flinched. If it weren’t for the sin he’d been created from, he would have lowered his gaze, even though no judgment registered in Alus’s expression.
He’d never spoken with the Twins, or indeed any of the Daemoenica, about his connection with Neyu.
Word must have gotten around, one way or another.
He wasn’t surprised, but a sense of violation and resentment came with the knowledge. What he and Neyu had, he wanted to be theirs, and theirs alone.
Something must have given away his rumination, or perhaps Alus was just that good at deciphering a train of thought.
Gluttony put the final dish away and leaned on the kitchen table towards Saer.
“No one will ever be able to take away what the two of you had, no matter how Father came to know about it.”
“Nor will killing another of us make your anguish disappear,” Arek added.
“It will balance the scales,” Saer growled.
Arek’s lips thinned. “What is it you really want, Saer?”
The word ‘revenge’ stuck in his throat as Arek regarded him with remarkable depth. “I want her back,” Saer murmured instead.
The apathetic expression on Arek’s face cracked, like crystal on stone. “You are closer to Neyu than any of us will ever be again, Eldest.”
“Pieces of her live in you,” Alus explained before Saer had a chance to ask the question. He and Arek shared a knowing glance before he finished, “They’re easy to see for those of us who knew her.”
The confusion must have read on his face because Alus smiled and continued, “At one point in time, I might have referred to you as ‘Ice King.’ It doesn’t suit you as well as it once did.
” He tipped his head. “At least, not always. Whether it’s because you learned or subsumed it from our former Queen of the Hells, her influence is there.
Quite frankly, makes you more bearable.”
Saer would never understand how Alus could say such things to any one of them and manage to keep from getting socked in the face. He’d discovered he absorbed her power over lust—which he continued to quash under a sea of bitterness—but he hadn’t noticed if he took more when he unmade Neyu.
What if—
“What if it can be taken out?” The question left him, a lightning bolt of childish inspiration.
Mirrored alarm registered on the Twins’ faces. “What?” “Why?” They responded at the exact same time.
Saer tapped his chest. “Take her out of me. Bring her back.” His voice rose as the idea grew. “Surely our maker can create her again with what’s leftover?”
“It doesn’t work that way—” Arek began.
“Why in the Hells not?”
Arek leaned away.
Alus raised his hands in a ‘surrender’ gesture. “Because, Don Quixote—”
“Donkey-what?”
Alus waved the words away, dismissing Saer’s inquiry. “Even if Father could do that, it wouldn’t be her. It would have her gifts, her talents, but the memories and experiences, everything which made her someone we all cared for...” Alus allowed the sentence to trail off.
Saer’s mind raced in too many directions to form one cohesive thought. “How can you two let her go so easily?”
Alus’s solemn smile betrayed his feelings as he reached forward and laid a hand over Saer’s. He almost jerked back, but Alus squeezed, and something reassuring in the contact stilled him. “We haven’t, Romeus. We remember with fondness. I might suggest we spend a night doing exactly that.”
The glint of mischief in Alus’s gaze made him narrow his eyes with suspicion. “I’m reluctant to ask what you have in mind.”
“Did you know it is possible for the Daemoenica to get drunk?” Alus asked.
Off to the side, Arek released a sharp breath. “Oh, Hells.”
Gluttony led the trio outside and pointed them in the direction of the market as the sun set over the clay brick town, casting rich ember hues across the landscape.