Consular times, p.10
Consular Times, page 10
“Fine. We’ll wait.” A few more seconds passed, and her expression softened, and she then uncrossed her arms. “If I’m going to be honest, I should probably thank you. I hate convocations with a passion, and it always annoys me when Grandpa or Grams drags me to one. Yes, I know. I’m the heir or heiress, whichever you prefer. I’ll have both of their seats on the Assembly one day. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. And I wasn’t joking about making alliances behind the scenes. As soon as enough of us inherit to wield real power, we’re changing some of that draconian shit.”
I gave it another healthy pause to be sure she was finished. “For what it’s worth, I’m on your side. I don’t have the foggiest what ‘draconian shit’ you’re talking about, but if you and the others think it should change, have at it.”
“Sorry. Sorry. I shouldn’t bring my problems into your house. That was unkind of me.”
I chuckled at that. I couldn’t help myself. “Vicki, you’re my sister. Your problems are my problems. They always have been, and they always will be. One day, I’ll look at my niece or nephew or both and tell them the same thing.”
“So, does it ever freak you out? The idea that you might very well outlive everyone alive today? Even newborn Magi? With my talents, odds favor I’ll live a good, long time… much like Grandpa and Grams… but we’ve talked, and you would not believe the number of friends they’ve outlived.”
I shrugged. “I don’t really think about it, and there’s no telling what will happen. I mean… sure… shifters supposedly are immortal, but if that’s the case, why aren’t there more of us who lived back in Roman times walking around? Something tells me that we don’t have all the information, but I might be wrong. There may be some little Italian guy in New York City slinging pizza and pasta and whatever else is in Italian cuisine who saw the conquest of Gaul firsthand. If they don’t talk about it, how are we supposed to know?”
“You make a good point. I don’t know. It’s been tough getting Merlin out of my mind. I doubt anyone likes to sit around contemplating their own mortality, but just how old is Merlin? What all has he seen or lived through? I’m sure none of us will ever know.”
Without thinking, I blurted out, “He’s a little under fifteen hundred.”
Vicki blinked. “Excuse you? What makes you say that? Did you just pull a number out of your furry butt?”
“He told me he was born in 543, somewhere in modern-day Wales. So… fourteen-eighty or thereabouts.”
Her expression hardened again, and she gave me her patented Stink Eye. “And just when did our revered ancestor share this with you?”
Me and my big mouth…
“Earlier today. It’s part of everything I have to tell you.”
“Which you’re making me wait to hear until Karleen and everyone else return… why exactly?”
The front door flying open heralded the return of my ladies and Moira, saving me from my sister’s wrath. At least for the moment. There was always the chance she’d enlist one or more of them to her side of the discussion, and I’d find myself besieged on all fronts. Wouldn’t be the first time, but the make-up tended to be epic…
“So, what do we have here?” Gabrielle asked, her tone almost playful. “I don’t believe we’ve ever seen you in a dress before, Vicki.”
My sister swiveled to Gabrielle like a SAM launcher acquiring its target. “Get a good look. Maybe take a picture. Because the days when I and my peers in the Assembly will submit to this tomfoolery are numbered… and… it’s a gown, not a dress.”
Gabrielle just beamed in the face of my sister’s wrath. “You say gown. I say dress. Potayto, potahto. So, how late were we?”
“Oh, you’re right on time,” I replied. “She hadn’t worked up to the truly gruesome threats to my health and wellbeing yet.”
“That’s good,” Karleen remarked. “We always hate to miss the good stuff.”
Lyssa chuckled and shook her head as she moved past us, leading Moira through the great room to the stairs that went up to the second floor. “I’m going to put Moira in the first upstairs room, unless anyone has a better idea.”
Before either Gabrielle or Karleen could speak up, I opined, “That sounds perfect, Lyssa. Thank you.”
Both ladies in question gave me speculative looks but kept their peace. Talk about small mercies…
Vicki, Karleen, and Gabrielle chatted among themselves while we meandered toward the dining room table. Sure, we could have had the discussion in the great room, but serious planning always requires a table in my mind. Unless we all wanted to troop down the street to the admin building conference room, the formal dining room was our only option.
By the time Lyssa returned with Moira, we already claimed seats. Through some method known only to them, Gabrielle and Karleen decided it was Lyssa’s turn to sit at my right hand and gave the seat on my immediate left to Vicki. While Lyssa accepted their silent instruction with grace and a smile, Moira stood off to one side, looking a tad anxious.
“Moira, sit anywhere you like,” I said. “Don’t worry. We don’t bite.”
“Unless you ask nicely,” Karleen added.
I shot a glance toward my dire wolf, and she merely returned my look with an unrepentant grin of her own.
Moira eased into a seat further down the table from Vicki, still acting and looking very much like she was somewhere she didn’t belong.
“So, earlier today, Miles appeared right in front of me as I crossed Main Street and told me we ‘needed to talk.’ The next thing I know, we’re in some musty old stone structure that he claimed was Avalon… but all the King Arthur myths aren’t quite correct.”
I proceeded to relay the entire tale from that point all the way through Moira joining our little family. Early on, Vicki lost all trace of mischievous sister and adopted a more serious mien. It was easy to understand why.
“Wait a minute,” Lyssa said, holding up her hand in a ‘Stop’ gesture. “The shifters today are the primogenitors’ lesser children? I don’t know if we can sell that, hon. In case you haven’t noticed, the default stance for most of us is arrogant bravado.”
I chuckled. “Yeah. I learned that the hard way with Thomas Carlyle.” I glanced toward Gabrielle. “Say… how is he getting along?”
Gabrielle shrugged. “Just like the rest of us. He has his good days and bad. The good days are slowly outnumbering the bad, though, which is always nice.”
“It makes perfect sense, though,” Karleen interjected. “The lesser children thing, I mean. I certainly know I haven’t encountered a shifter yet who was a serious challenge. It wasn’t until Wyatt and I started sparring that anyone really made me work for the win.”
Lyssa shook her head. “I wasn’t saying it wasn’t true, just that I doubted we could sell it. The average shifter on the street doesn’t know you or Wyatt or Sloane or the European dire wolf. Burke is—for all intents and purposes—still a child, so I’m not including her.”
“We need more primogenitors,” Gabrielle spoke into the sudden lull. “Yes, the Magi are a force multiplier, but from what Miles said, only the primogenitors—or true shifters—stand a chance against the Fae. When should we tell Mina and, in turn, the government?”
Vicki grimaced. “I don’t think we have enough information to take to them yet. Yeah… it’s all well and good to say, ‘look, there’s an ancient enemy coming for us,’ but without proof—without a tangible timeline—that’s worse than useless. They are simply not used to thinking long term… not like we are. Hell. It makes national news when one of them lives over a hundred years. Maybe just the eleven o’clock news, but still…”
“I agree with Vicki.” I added emphasis with a couple nods. “I think our best bet is to start planning and preparing between us. Get the Assembly onboard. Get the shifters onboard. In our case, I think we should relax the heavy bar on adding humans to our ranks, and I think we should research special cases to become primogenitors. Yes, Merlin was adamant that modern shifters could not stand up to the Fae when they come, but unless a bunch of primogenitors have been hiding all these centuries, all we have right now are the four of us… well, five, if we can get Karleen’s counterpart in Europe onboard.”
No one seemed to have anything they wanted to add, so I looked to the sole person at the table who hadn’t said a word. “Moira, what can you tell us about the Fae preparations?”
The red-haired vixen lowered her eyes to the table for a moment before lifting her head to look at me. “I am over two hundred of your years old, but compared to humans or even Magi, we age at an almost geologic pace. The eldest of my family… former family… watched the humans here develop writing. The Fae Courts are even older. The more power we bring back to our realm, the slower we age.
“This would’ve been the third campaign to claim a realm I have participated in, and they are moving cautiously. They told us we once tried for this world and its bounty in ancient times but were driven back, beaten almost to the point of famine and ruin. The humans of this world have the saying, ‘pride goeth before a fall,’ and the Fae have always been a prideful people. Some might say too prideful. This world is our first—our only—defeat, and my people will not stand for a repeat. When they come for you, it will be at a time most advantageous for them, and they will bring—what is to them—overwhelming force. According to all the ancient chronicles, our leaders of the time were woefully unprepared for the level of resistance the shifters could deliver. Most paid for their lack of scouting and planning with their lives… if they survived the retreat to our realm.”
“So, based on past campaigns, how much time do we have?” Vicki asked. “Do you have any idea when this overwhelming force will arrive?”
Moira shook her head. “I do not… at least not for certain. I am—well, was—one of the advance scouts. It is our job to travel the world and amass as much information about your capabilities as we can, before we take our reports back to our realm.”
“How many scouts have your people sent?” I asked.
“I have no way of knowing, not for certain. My cohort was thirty-two strong, and I have not seen or heard from them since the people in the bunker captured me.”
Lyssa frowned. “Thirty-two is a strange number, at least to us.”
Moira smiled. “After significant negotiation spanning weeks, the eight families supplying my cohort agreed to four scouts per family, and I’m quite sure they would still be arguing over the matter, but the Queens forced the issue.”
My ladies, Vicki, and I shared a look. From the sounds of it, the Fae were less than united. That could be useful down the road.
“Queens?” Vicki asked. “I know in our folklore there are Seelie and Unseelie Fae, sometimes called the Summer and Winter Courts respectively, and they each have their own queen. How close is that?”
Moira refused to meet my sister’s eyes as she answered, “There are the Seelie and Unseelie Courts, each with their own queen. That much, at least, you have correct. But I do not understand what you mean by Summer and Winter Courts.”
“In our folklore, the Seelie Fae are lighter Fae and closer to benevolent, while the Unseelie Fae are darker and often nowhere close to benevolent,” my sister explained.
“Ah,” Moira remarked. “That is both correct and incorrect. Much like humans, Fae have equal capacity for goodness or evil, but it is one of our foundational beliefs that all beings who are not Fae are lesser creatures. And there has never been a Fae who did not ensure his or her own success before any other considerations, even such that might benefit the Fae as a whole.”
The ladies and I shared another look, and Karleen spoke. “So, where’s your success in this? How are you coming out ahead?”
Now, embarrassment—or at least what I thought to be embarrassment—colored Moira’s features. “As I intimated, I am… young. I have not experienced much of life as yet, and when I saw a man who matched the Bane of the Courts in the ancient chronicles, I… well… I panicked. Seeing him here of all places made me certain beyond any doubt—at least in my panic—that my death was nigh, and I don’t want to die. So, I threw myself on the hopes of Wyatt’s kindness, and he accepted my oath, even knowing what it entailed.”
“And just what, pray tell, does it entail?” Vicki asked. “And before you answer, it might be best if you knew that my brother and I are his great-great-grandchildren… in a direct line. Our grandmother is his granddaughter.”
In the blink of an eye, Moira’s demeanor went from embarrassment and slight discomfort to looking like she was two heartbeats from stroking out. Full-blown panic attack. Her eyes—wider than I’d ever seen them before—ping-ponged between me and Vicki as she hyperventilated. Her jaw slackened enough that her lips developed a tiny ‘O’ through which I caught glimpses of her white teeth.
When she started weaving in her seat, I shot out of mine, rounding the table. I pulled her into my arms and turned us so she couldn’t see Vicki while I whispered in her ear, “Hey, calm down. You’re safe. Remember my oath. Remember my promise. You’re safe with me. You’re safe with us.”
I continued whispering what I hoped were calming words as I rubbed her back. Over a short span of time, her panic eased. A shorter time after that, she pulled away from me, giving reassuring nods that she was past her panic. I helped her back to her seat and returned to mine.
As I eased into the chair, Moira said, “In exchange for his mercy and protection, I am your brother’s property to do with as he wills for the rest of my life.”
That sat Vicki back, which was good to see. Sometimes, when she went all ‘big sister’ to protect me, she could take the bit between her teeth and run roughshod over everyone.
“You were so afraid of our ancestor that you chose to become my brother’s property as long as he protected you?”
Moira replied with a silent nod.
Silence settled around us for several moments. At last, Vicki spoke. “I am sorry I scared you. I won’t tell you that it wasn’t my intent, but I wouldn’t have done it if I had known the full extent of how much Merlin terrifies you.”
“Thank you.” Moira’s voice wasn’t a whisper, but there was zero challenge or strength in it.
Vicki turned back to us. “I think the best option is for me to talk with our grandparents. If Miles pops in again, do what you can to corral him until we can get back here. We need to hear more about this, and I’m not sure there’s anyone better to tell us than him.”
Lyssa lifted her hand from the table, and we all turned to her. “I will start working on just how to tell the Shifter Council both that we’re the descendants of the lesser children and that we have an invasion coming. I fear they will be a more difficult sell than the Magi Assembly.”
“Miles might have to visit both groups and establish himself before we make any progress,” Vicki cautioned.
“Agreed. I still remember the frightened disbelief when he etched his sigil into the tabletop during Sloane’s inquest. I never thought I’d see that anywhere in my lifetime other than in books.”
When silence reigned for several minutes, I decided no one else had anything to share, so I stood, saying, “I think we’ve done all we can for right now. Let’s work on our respective pieces and talk in… what… a week?”
Heads bobbed in agreement around the table, and everyone stood. Vicki retrieved her robe from the barstool before she blinked out, and Lyssa helped Moira upstairs, whispering something about a nap being good for her.
13
The question I felt around my shoulders was one of next steps. Where do we go from where we were? I had no military experience to speak of, so I didn’t have that to fall back on. But… a lot of my favorite authors were veterans and often wrote military-themed novels. Yes, fiction should not be my sole guide with the fate of the world hanging over us, but I had to start somewhere, right? Besides, one of my top favorite authors once wrote in a novel: amateurs study tactics; professionals study logistics.
That made excellent sense to me. It doesn’t matter what fancy moves or formations or plans you have. If your people don’t have food, proper equipment, or even clean clothes, they will not be the best fighting force they can be.
It seemed to me that the Magi would be indispensable for logistics. Set up a supply corps around a group of Magi that were Grandmaster-certified in long-range teleportation, and we could have most of what we needed anywhere in the world. Not to mention the ease of transporting troops…
No, the major problem was that we didn’t know anything beyond the Fae were coming and that they already had scouts on the planet.
That they were an internally fractious lot seemed rather fortuitous to me, but I’d have to remember not to let us dwell on that. Plan for it, yes. Utilize it if we could, absolutely. Get complacent because we relied on our invaders to spend as much time fighting or disagreeing with each other as they did us? Not wise. Not wise at all.
I found myself standing at the edge of the backyard at the Alpha’s house as I considered all this and more surrounding Miles’s revelation. The sun hung low in the western sky, creating reddish-orange rays of light around the taller hills and mountain peaks.
And all at once, understanding hit me. Most shifters responded to strength from what Gabrielle kept telling me… and Lyssa, too, since she joined us. I was hands-down the strongest shifter in North America, with the possible—or maybe probable—exception of Karleen. If my duel with Thomas Carlyle was any indication, even experienced and veteran shifters would not be able to stand up to me.
Burke, too, once she progressed past the early ‘growing pains’ stage. It was all still so new for her, though, that she had to re-learn everything about Life. A lot was still the same for her, now that she was a shifter, but the list of topics at least subtly different would probably wallpaper the Rockies. We needed to get her up to speed as fast as possible… and we needed to get her away from the Feds. If she took their money, they had a claim on her. Her time. Her knowledge. Her talents. Since she was the fifth primogenitor—that we knew—we needed her more. And as much as I might prefer otherwise, I needed to discuss becoming a primogenitor with Hauser, assuming she was still intent on becoming a shifter.
