Sons (Book 2) (159 page)

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Authors: Scott V. Duff

BOOK: Sons (Book 2)
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“Hmm.  I wonder what the boys’ auras will look like, once they’ve acclimated,” Peter muttered from a planter nearby.

With a squeal, Coulter landed on my back, catching my neck.  I grabbed his knees so he wouldn’t fall and spread my legs to steady myself.  Unfortunately this gave Connor enough room to slip between my legs, turn, and hug me tightly about the waist.  “Please, please, please tell me that mud is
not
made with your pee!” I begged Connor, looking down as much as I could without getting choked.  Both boys fell into fits of giggles, which luckily got Coulter off my back and loosened Connor’s grip around my guts.

“They discovered that
senero
fruit are very juicy, Lord,” Guitar said, offering a towel.  “They didn’t seem to mind rolling through the resulting mud and we didn’t see the harm.”

“No harm with fruit juice,” I said mildly, coddling the boys’ heads before taking the towel.  Then I looked up at First and Ellorn, standing together, stock-still, petrified to move.  “Now you understand why I never played with my brothers at parties, even though it looks like so much fun and y’all are always running your mouths about me joinin’ in.”  The twin’s hold around my ribs tightened considerably and they both looked up at me, worried.

“Is something wrong, Daddy?” they asked in stereo.  It was so freakin’ weird I couldn’t help but smile.

“Not for us, boys, but my protectors are learning more than they bargained for today,” I said, stroking their backs.  I hoped this need for constant affection would be over soon.  They slid back, forcing my arms up to their shoulders, and turned so they could see First and Ellorn.

“They don’t like us anymore,” Connor said.  “First doesn’t like us anymore,” Coulter said.  They both started whimpering and began to curl up against me.  This was again one of those points where I needed to make them understand or bark at them.  So far, I’ve been lucky with the understanding side.

I glared quickly at Jimmy before squeezing them gently and said, “It’s not that First doesn’t like you right now.  He’s my protector and you present a problem for him.  You attacked me, but you were playing and you are my sons.  First doesn’t hate you–he hates the position it puts him in.  Just give him a day or two and he’ll work it out.”

“Guess he wouldn’t like me dunking you in the pool either, eh?” Peter said chuckling.

“No, I don’t think I would,” Jimmy said, sitting down beside him on the planter.

“Lookin’ a little green around the gills, Jimmy,” Peter whispered, nudging him with his shoulder.  “Something wrong?”

“Seth’s right!  This is an education,” Jimmy said.  “A really weird one.  Boys, your Dad’s absolutely right.  I don’t hate you at all.  My Lord was attacked and I could not retaliate.  I’m sorry if it came out the wrong way.”

“Does he mean that, Daddy?” Coulter asked, while at the same time Connor asked, “Daddy, is that true?”

“Yes, I’m afraid I’ve sheltered them that way,” I said.  “But don’t worry, once they join in, it’ll get easier for them to play.” I leaned in closer with a cocksure grin.  “And they do know how to play
very well
.”  And as I expected, the boys took that as a challenge, eyeing my first and second mischievously.  “But not today.  Ellorn, if you’ll help Gibson and Guitar make their arrangements for the next few days, I’d appreciate it.  They’re gonna have a rough time coordinating everything without dropping hints as it is.  Other than that, have anything for me?”

Jimmy hesitated momentarily, “Nothing that can’t wait, Lord.”

“Fifty-four million can wait, yes,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Peter snorted.  “You know about that already?”

“Didn’t take long,” I said without further comment.  “If you guys want to come back tomorrow for an hour or two, I’m sure the boys would love some playtime with you.  And First, would you stop by and tell Kieran and Ethan our plans have changed?  I’ll be having supper early tonight and turn in early, say an hour after sundown.”

“Certainly, Seth,” Jimmy said smiling again.

“I’d love nothing more, Lord Daybreak,” Ellorn responded.  “Until tomorrow, Coulter, Connor.  Good day, Lord.”  Then he tried to shift out of my room.

And found Guitar at his feet smiling up at him politely forbidding him to do it, with authority of the Palace–Ellorn’s own Authority–backing the brownie.  “Your pardon, Master Ellorn and First of Gilán, but the exit is this way.”

“Of course, Guitar, I should have realized,” Ellorn said in relief and followed the brownie away with Jimmy.  I started wiping off the mud from myself then knelt down in front of the boys and cleaned them up, thankful for magic towels.  The boys just stood there and soaked the attention in.

“Did you two have a good time investigating the bushes with Guitar and Gibson?” I asked them, settling back on my heels once they were clean again.

They grinned and nodded boisterously.  “Yes, Daddy,” they said together.

“There are two more people for you to meet today,” I told them solemnly.  “We’ll do that during supper.  They are Kieran and Ethan, my brothers, like Peter.  Now, I want you to be prepared for this meeting.  You two are going to be a bigger shock for them than you were for First and Ellorn.  It’s going to take them longer to get used to just the idea of you, much less the two of you, but you shouldn’t be scared of either of them.  They will love you, too, more deeply than you’ll ever know.”

“Are they scary, Daddy?” Connor asked fearfully.

“They can be very scary,” I admitted.  “But they won’t be here.”  At least, they’d better not be, not to my kids.  “But before we do that, I promised Connor to give him a copy of Coulter’s gift.  Would you like me to do that now?”

“Would you, Dad?” Coulter asked.  “Please?”

“Now’s as good a time as any,” I said brightly.  “Then we can go a pick out a few toys before supper.”  Sitting the boys down, I sat down in front of them, knees to knees, and triggered my Pact Lock, delving into the library for its copy and transfer functions.  Lifting Coulter’s Pact free of its Lock, I copied the main Pact in a blur of archaic magic that sealed behind a formidable wall of even more archaic magic, tied up so tightly it was indecipherable.  Next, the personal cache of Eliot wrapped itself up tightly and became a mere mote in the constant conflagration of moving, twisting history of millennia.  Then I slipped the two copies right into place in the boys’ Pact Locks, sealing the Locks shut around their Pacts.

“That was an amazing show,” Peter whispered, taking advantage of the boys’ daze.  They’d be staring at the Pact for a few moments still, especially Connor.  “I didn’t realize I’d see the whole thing.”

“That’s what having a Pact means, Pete,” I said.  “Ya gotta have one to see the others.”

“You have one, too, Uncle Pete?” Coulter asked.  “Because we can’t see yours and Daddy’s.”

“It hides in our auras better,” Peter explained.  “The magic of the four of us brothers hides us from just about everybody.  As far as we know, we are the only four left with the Pact.”

“Eliot told you the rules, didn’t he?” I asked sternly, but without the threat of Daybreak behind me.

“Yes, Daddy,” they said solemnly together.

“Good.  Now let’s go find some toys,” I said, peering about distractedly.  “Gibson, where do you suppose I would have put toys in here?”  The boys perked up excitedly at the mention of toys.

“Toys, Lord?” Gibson asked coyly, knowing the toy room had appeared in his radar.  “I’m not sure I’ve seen toys in your sanctuary.  Perhaps in a side room?”

“Not on the first level, I’m sure,” Guitar added, darting in to pick up the towel at my side.

“Hmm.  It’s been a while since I’ve looked on the second level on that side,” I said, pointing to where I knew the toy room was.  “But maybe we should look on the first floor first anyway.”  The sun was just dropping below the horizon and my room darkened perceptibly.

“Daddy!”  Connor objected.  “That might take an hour!” Coulter added.  Together they pleaded–okay, whined–“Please, Daddy, find it faster!” 

With a smile as broad as my face, I shifted the six of us to the toy room and said, “Okay.”  Their eyes were the size of saucers as they took in the room, floor to ceiling toys.  Peter took action against their apoplexy by knocking a netted container of colored Ping-Pong balls from a shelf onto the floor.  It was a madhouse for a good twenty minutes after that as toys of various sizes and shapes went flying in all directions and we all remembered our inner five-year-olds.  I called out to Guitar and Gibson, reminded them to have plenty of brandy, beer, and coffee for after dinner, and sent them off to their chores.

“Time to start cleaning up some,” I announced, standing up among the six inches accumulated on the floor.  Peter complained and whined more than the twins.  “Now, the sooner it’s cleaned up, the sooner you can pick what to take with you tonight.”

“We can take…” Connor asked, popping his head out from a fortification of rubberized blocks.  “…some with us, Daddy?” Coulter finished for him, coming around a homemade ballista set to fire sticks of foam weakly at Connor’s fortress.

“Yep, two or three to play with after supper and maybe a stuffed animal to snuggle with tonight,” I said.  “Providing we get this place clean enough.”

In a whirlwind of action, the boys had the room cleared in five minutes, with a lot of help from Peter and me.  It wasn’t perfect, by any means, but certainly acceptable for a toy room.  Once I announced it good enough, the serious business of toy selection began in earnest, and I had forgotten just how serious this business was for children.  They finally decided on an interlocking construction set with thousands of tiny pieces and two foam swords.  When I reminded them of the stuffed animals, they both went very quiet while they perused the shelves, but I knew which ones had already caught their attention and would again.  I formed a solid pole of Gilán’s energy in my hand so the boys would see it and prodded the nearest down: the dump truck, not an animal at all.  Connor was on the floor under the plush toy and ready to catch it as I knocked it from the shelf.  I went after the next when Connor’s shriek of glee told me he caught it squarely.  The purple bunny with the big floppy ears was actually within my reach, but with Coulter on the floor with his arms outstretched expectantly, I just had to knock it off for him to catch.  Peter’s smile at their happiness with those two stuffed toys was enough to wipe the aggravation of any repetitious “Daddies” from my mind and the boys’ expressions made me forget the clinginess. 

Okay, I’m a sucker.  I admit it.

Shifting us from the toy room, I dropped us in front of my bathroom and asked, “Anyone need to use the toilet before supper?” I asked.  I got a breeze instead of an answer.  Strolling slowly in, I met Peter at the vanity, where the twins had left their stuffed toys beside a sink apparently in claim of it.

“Good news!” Peter chortled.  “They’re potty trained.”

“That is good news,” I said, grinning at his reflection as I washed my hands and face.  Gibson hopped onto the counter with hand towels just as the boys came running in.  “Thanks, Gibson.”

“Supper is on the table, Lord,” Gibson chirped, happily.  “Guitar is by the door awaiting Lord Kieran and Master Ethan.”

“Thanks, Gibson.  Okay, everybody, wash up for supper,” I said, drying my face and hands.  “Then Gibson will lead us to our table.  I know lunch wasn’t that long ago, but I know you two are hungry from all that playing.”  The boys looked up and grinned, nodding.  Once they’d washed and dried, we walked our way around my bedroom, crossing the now-dormant Road and into the alcove across from the Worldgem.  We took the boys to the dome for their first real look out onto Gilán.  Nothing had yet enchanted them so much as that look.

“Daddy… the stars are so different…” Connor whispered, staring at the sky.

“Did some fall down, Daddy?” Coulter asked, pointing down at the valley below.

“Look, Coulter!  Two moons!” Connor squealed with excitement as the second, lavender moon rose in the southwest.  I waited a moment for their noise to quiet before I explained the distant nocturnal Fae in the valley below and how we had three moons for the next few hundred years.

Then I heard a muffled, distant shout, “Wait, Ethan, it’s not–” followed by a soft thud.  Then Ethan burst through the anchor.

Little Brother, what the hell?!

There’s a brownie named Guitar four feet to your left, Ethan.  Just walk with him and he’ll bring you in
, I told him without dropping down into my cavern with him.

What’s going on, Seth?  Is there a problem?

Just follow Guitar, Ethan,
I said again, chuckling.  Giving the boys until Kieran and Ethan passed the halfway point, I interrupted their ogling of the landscape and said, “Come on, boys, they’ll be here in a moment.”  Peter and I slowly urged them away from the domed window and we walked past the table.  This time, the table was round and set for six.  Both buffets on either side were set with steaming pots of stews and plates of roasted beef, pork and some fowl, turkey, I think.  Brownie dishes were mixed with familiar Earth fare and frankly, the aromas cranked my appetite into high gear, even after a huge lunch recently.

“Seth!” Ethan yelled from a distance.

Chuckling, I said, “That’s your Uncle Ethan being impatient.  I took his favorite toy away and he doesn’t like it.”

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