Winter solstice was on a Thursday; Tuesday morning, the trio bid farewell to Val and Sid, tossed belongings and selves into a taxi to the train station, and headed for Margaret's house.
“You're sure you want us along?” Christian asked. “Wanting time alone with your family is perfectly reasonable.”
“Gran told me to drag you both along,” Eric repeated patiently. “I get time alone when I want it. I want you there. Gran wants you there. My mom and a couple of my cousins want to meet you. Having you there will not interfere with me spending time with my family. Avery is going to want to tell you all about every single cute thing Amber has done since he came to pick her up and how much he loves her. I should have typed all this out so I could just hand it to you, every time you start asking.”
“Sorry. I just...”
“I know. Stop worrying already. Besides, it’s a bit late now. There's my mom!”
It wasn't exactly hard to figure out who he meant: a tall blonde woman was striding towards them, definitely a witch, though not a strong one. She held out both arms to Eric with a brilliant smile, and Eric abandoned his backpack and his laptop to hug her fiercely.
“God, it's good to see you, hon. You look like university's been good for you.”
“University and awesome friends,” Eric agreed. “Chris, Mark, my mom Eileen, and Carly.”
A redheaded woman, also a witch, who'd just caught up with Eileen laughed. “So, we get to meet the infamous Christian Terevan, who has the Fellowship in such a spin.”
Christian rolled his eyes. “I didn't do anything!”
“Exactly. They always kick up a fuss over any witch who refuses to play by their rules, but most of us don't scare them quite as badly as you do. So. Want to come meet more friendly witches, and the rest of the family?”
“You have everything?” Eileen asked.
Eric gathered his things back up. “Yep.”
Belongings fit in the trunk, and the trio fit in the back seat of the car with Chris in the middle—it was a little cozy, but not a problem.
The long driveway of Margaret's house had cars and vans scattered on both sides already. Eileen parked with the rest.
“We're probably close to the last to show up,” Eric commented, as they all walked up the driveway.
“Oh goodie,” Mark murmured. “A whole mob of witches.”
“No, it's a mob of kangaroos,” Christian corrected solemnly. “Witches come in covens.”
“Or families,” Eileen said cheerfully. “Better than half of this family, anyway.”
“Plus a few allies,” Eric added. “Like my cousin Lenore's salamander.”
“That's not an ally,” Mark snorted. “It's a pet.”
“I meant the elemental kind.”
“So did I.”
“Don't let Lenore hear you say that, she and Yselle are very close. Anyway, lots of witches, many of them not particularly strong, and some who are able to see liminals and elementals but otherwise are effectively not witches. Active independent minds and emotional stability seem to breed true more often than strong witchblood in this family.”
“More useful traits, most of the time,” Christian pointed out.
“This from the witch carrying one backpack that's holding five times what it should be able to.”
“Who also happens to be the witch who's going to be in real trouble if that particular experiment gives out,” Christian laughed.
Eric opened the front door and waved the others in.
“Everyone here,” Eileen said softly, “knows that you're responsible for my mother being more active and healthy than she has been for a long time.”
Christian shrugged. “So I traded something I'd figured out for something I really wanted to learn. Honestly, I think I came out ahead on that, but I'm glad it helped her so much.”
Laughter and conversation filled the house warmly, as did quite a lot of bodies. Eric hung all three jackets over others on the hooks to one side, and gestured to them to leave their things there.
There had to be at least two dozen people, maybe more, in the living room, to say nothing of liminals. A six-inch salamander, the fiery colours of its hide shifting and flickering, perched on the shoulder of a walnut-haired girl; a bronze-furred Abyssinian cat watched the room with disconcertingly-intelligent blue eyes from its comfortable position on the arm of the couch. A fluttering drew Christian's attention to the nearly-invisible bird atop the bookshelves, long fanciful feathers transparent as water trailing over the edge. The overwhelming sense was of witchblood, almost intimidatingly so, given that he'd never been around more than a handful of witches ever in his life.
“Everybody,” Eileen announced, “these two are Eric's friends Christian and Mark. I don't think there's much point in going around the room and giving you a list of names, but essentially, this is most of the tribe. A few are with Mom in her sitting room, and Avery and one other haven't showed yet.”
“Go say hi and let them know you're here,” Carly suggested.
“Good plan,” Eric decided.
The sitting room door was open; Eric tapped lightly on it anyway. Margaret waved them in instantly, and a narrow red muzzle emerged from the blankets on her lap.
Christian felt a surprising level of power in the heavily-shielded room. Granted, he could sense two moderately strong witches and one stronger one aside from Margaret and himself, but that wasn't it, it was line-power. Linked to... Jade?
No, not quite.
“Why didn't you tell Eric you're pregnant, Jade?” he said, without thinking, too startled to be tactful.
“What?” Mark spun away from greeting Margaret to look at him, expression full of too many emotions for Christian to unravel quickly.
Eric saw it, too. “I think,” he said to his three as-yet-unintroduced relatives, “that we need to talk to Gran and Jade alone for a bit.”
One, an older man, nodded. “Sounds like it. We'll say hi later.” Once the other two preceded him out, he closed the door securely behind him.
“Bloody hells, fox, what did Eric ever do to you, that you're trying so hard to kill him?” Mark exploded, as soon as the door was shut.
The fox jumped off Margaret's lap and became a small woman with long rust-red hair in a loose white silk dress that didn’t really hide a suggestion of a belly-bump. “I am not!”
“Then how could you let yourself get pregnant? Or are you going to try to tell us it's not Eric's?”
“It is,” the kitsune admitted. “It was an accident.”
“Like sending him to live in the same house as me, without bringing up again there just might be an extremely relevant aspect to his gifts? And don’t tell me you didn’t know about me! Do you have any idea how close he came to being messily dead? Only now, he's going to be dead anyway in a few months. And it was an accident? And people think my kind are dangerous to have around!” He dropped into the nearest chair, golden eyes dark with disgust, and glanced at Christian. “Kitsune are not noticeably any easier on a human parent, for different reasons. Since kitsune are supposed to actually value life, they usually only have children with each other. At least, that’s how I understood it. I’m increasingly thinking that I should throw out everything I used to think I knew about them.”
“Enough,” Margaret said firmly. “Yelling isn't going to clear this up. Have a seat, and let’s sort out what’s going on.”
Christian caught Eric's hand and drew him over to the worn overstuffed loveseat to sit down—the blond couldn't seem to assimilate this revelation. Mark just shrugged, draping one leg over the arm of his chair in a deceptively-casual pose. Jade sank down on a pillow at Margaret's feet.
“Thank you,” Margaret said. “Now. I was under the impression that you were human.”
Mark laughed, with a distinctly harsh note to it. “She didn't tell you about that? Oh, what would witches do without their loyal allies.” Shadows gathered around him, slid away.
“I was worried that if I said anything, she wouldn't let Eric move in with you,” Jade said. “Christian is his best chance. You aren’t a threat to humans you choose to protect, and I had good reason to believe you’d consider Eric under your protection. And you can’t accidentally hurt him.”
“I can’t accidentally hurt him by feeding. You sent him to live with me, without warning even him,” Alexandra said derisively. Christian had an impression of a cat's claws, barely sheathed, but easily bared. Her gaze flicked to Margaret. “Do you know what a lamia is?”
Margaret nodded silently.
“Did that fox of yours tell you Eric’s gifts would reverse the drain if a predator is feeding?”
“It... is something she speculated about a few years ago, without any safe way to prove it.”
“Any guesses what happened when I threw him in bed? I would have killed him as a threat if Chris hadn't gotten there in time. Since I had no idea what it was, it looked like a deliberate attack. Now that I know, Eric is in no more danger from me than Christian is, but it was very close.”
Jade looked down. “There... I might have misjudged. Information on how lamias feed is in short supply, even when asking much more powerful members of my clan, and I had only speculation about that particular aspect of Eric’s gifts. If that happened, then I’m very sorry, that is my fault, and I’m very grateful that the worst didn’t happen. I should have erred on the side of caution and made sure that what I knew and what I suspected were clear upfront.”
“Hold on,” Christian said, reviewing the conversation. “What do you mean, I'm his best chance?”
“Kitsune kits feed entirely off the life-energy of the parents,” Jade said. “Since they are not able to generate their own or reach it from the environment until soon after birth. Under normal conditions, a human, even a strong witch, is unable to sustain that. Even if they can for a while, during birth the drain increases exponentially. As the dark lady there said, we’re usually careful that both parents are kitsune. I... made a mistake. I would prefer, if possible, not to abort, although I would have if I couldn’t find a solution. I still would if there was no other alternative. Eric’s life matters.”
Alexandra made a snorting noise.
“It does! Distance helps, for one thing. I paid attention to what Christian said, which was brilliant, and I’ve been pulling power directly from the nearest ley-lines to feed her, I bet Eric hasn’t had any effects at all. She'll take a lot for the next two and a half months or so, but there's plenty in the ley-lines, and if she does somehow reach to Eric, despite that and the distance and the shields on your house, you can reach the ley-lines too and give Eric back anything he needs. See? I found a way that Eric won't die and I can keep my baby!”
Alexandra considered that. “It might work.”
“It should,” Christian said. “Depends how much energy gets drained, but if the lines are working for Jade, they should for Eric, too.”
“I made a mistake, but it's fixed,” Jade said, glowering at Alexandra.
“You'd better hope it is,” Alexandra growled, “because I am going to be one unhappy lamia if he dies. And, Margaret, you can stop worrying about Eric and Chris' safety around me—save it for anything stupid enough to be a threat to either of them.” The look she threw at Jade made it clear that the kitsune remained potentially on that list. “I will not tolerate that. And I can do something about it.”
“Uh-oh,” Christian said, another thought occurring to him. “How good is the rest of this family at not talking? Your aura's not exactly subtle, Lexa.”
“The shielding on this room will mask well enough that no one will have picked up anything,” Margaret said. “And I am very good at not talking. You're worried about accusations of blood-magic?”
“I think the Fellowship will take any excuse they can,” Alexandra said. “They won't care if it's totally unfounded, to say nothing of ludicrous for someone who cried when our cat killed a mouse. It's a handy explanation for why he's strong and refuses to join their club, and an excuse to gang up on him actively.” She stretched, and called the shadows back, switching to Mark.
“You're probably right, unfortunately. We’ll have to be prepared for that to happen someday, but I agree, trying to put it off for as long as possible is just as well.” Margaret rose. “Well. Shall we?” She crossed the room, her limp scarcely perceptible, to open the door and shoo all four out.
Eric duly introduced his housemates to various family members, and Christian and Mark were absorbed into the larger group effortlessly. Avery, who had come to pick the little calico up and thus had met his cousin's roommates already, wasn't there yet; word had it that he wasn't going to be there until the solstice itself, reluctant to leave his cats for long or subject them to the trip even with explanations.
The girl with the salamander turned out to be the same Lenore with whom Eric spent quite a lot of time online. Christian found himself drawn into a fascinating conversation with her and a shorter, rounder man introduced to him as Uncle Gerard about the sociology of the local witchblood subculture, and whether there were in fact two subcultures or only one with two faces. Salamander Yselle offered a few observations, via Lenore, who appeared to be the only one it would or could talk to.
The Abyssinian prowled over to sniff at Christian, looked up at him with those bright blue eyes, said, *You'll do,* in his mind, and wandered off, tail held erect.
“Don't mind Vir,” Lenore said. “You know how cats are, even non-liminal ones. I’m sure he’s aware of your ferals and your cat... Sid, right? I can't believe you're as strong as you are and don't have some equivalent of Jade, though. I'm not much stronger than Eric, and Yselle found me.” She stroked the salamander half-hidden under her hair with a fingertip, gently.
Christian shrugged. “I haven't felt any particular need to try to find one particular ally,” he said truthfully—he hadn't had to. “Maybe it’s a family thing. My great-aunt had cats around but no liminal friend specifically, other than being friends with my grandmother’s hulder and my grandfather’s naga and then my mom’s harpy. And my dad just makes friends with anything earth-affiliated in no time flat, but nothing specific. I seem to have a knack for calling whatever I need at the time.” On a cell phone, sometimes.
“Useful,” Gerard said. “Being that flexible must be an advantage.”
For the most part, the Lyndell cousins and their friends bedded down all over the floor in the living room and beyond, leaving beds to their elders and to one pregnant cousin who could go into labour any minute, as Christian understood it.
“What a day,” Eric said tiredly, his voice pitched low so it wouldn’t carry far.
Christian snuggled against him, aware of Mark on Eric's other side protectively. “I'll say. You okay?”
“I think so. I hope so. I can't believe Jade...”
“You'll be fine,” Mark said firmly. “We'll make sure of it. You don't think I've gone to all the effort of learning to care about another human just to lose you, do you? I even went so far as to apologize, and that doesn't happen every day.”
“We'll keep you safe,” Christian agreed. “You belong with us, we're not going to lose you now.”
“Not a chance,” Mark said softly.
The reassurance, along with a very subtle touch of magic, did the trick, and Eric did eventually fall asleep and stay that way.
* * *
Before the trio headed for home, Margaret found time to draw them aside again.
“I didn't want to bring this up and spoil the party,” she said gravely, settling into her chair. Eric moved reflexively to help her, then drew back; she noticed, smiled, but didn't comment on it. Jade burrowed into the blanket Margaret drew over her lap.
“Bad news?” Christian asked, joining Eric on the loveseat again, while Mark sprawled in a chair.
“I'm sure Eric's told you I do maintain contacts within the Fellowship—not friends, as such, but acquaintances I occasionally get together with for a cup of tea and a chat. The larger part of the Fellowship isn't evil or malicious, they joined for a variety of reasons that range from networking opportunities to feeling more secure with some structure. There've been a couple that I've managed to bring to see the flaws in the organization who have since left it or begun trying to change it from within. Some are aware of those flaws without needing my help to see them. Those are, unfortunately, not usually the ones who make it to the top of the heap, but there are efforts to moderate some of the more... problematic aspects.”
Christian nodded, still impressed as he had been when Eric had mentioned it.
“They're all avoiding me,” Margaret sighed. “Not a single one will return phone calls. Mundane or magical means, I have been completely cut off. Even those working to change the Fellowship will tell me only that it's the Council's orders and they've made it clear they will punish violations severely.”
“Damn,” Mark muttered. “I guess they haven't given up. Resume battle stations.”
“While that's hardly catastrophic on its own, I'm more than a little concerned as to why. Given how disturbed they seem to be by you...”
Eric sighed. “So they've realized he's connected to this family more than casually. Great. So why haven't they backed off like they did with Avery and the others, to keep from pissing off the whole family? They don’t usually push nearly this hard to try to force independents to join, especially when there are family connections involved.”
“I wish I had an answer. I can only guess that they see you, Chris, as so much of a threat that even the risk of angering the whole Lyndell family is worth it.”
“I didn't do anything,” Christian sighed. “Why are they so scared?”
“They figure if you have power, you'll use it,” Eric said. “And they can’t figure out what you actually are doing with it, since you aren’t sticking with their limits and categories. If they can get you into the Fellowship, you'll be playing a game they know the rules to, and with any luck, they can get you tied to a mentor who can keep you on a leash. Of course, they all want to be said mentor, because you're valuable.”
“I would say the reasons are complex,” Margaret said softly. “You're the grandson of a witch known for his scholarship, and the son of a witch known for her inventiveness in using limited resources and a witch known for his affinity to all things of the earth. That combination is obviously a potent one, since it was probably conducive to your experiments with the ley-lines being successful. Seth and Rosa are known as well for dealings with liminals in particular, yet to all appearances they seem to have left you with no guardian. That's unsettling and bewildering. They are clearly aware that the old connection between your family and ours is no longer latent, it’s active and as strong as ever, and while they’re resigned to the Lyndell family refusing to play along, there are those who have never been happy about that. And Eric is right. In their world, if you have power, you use it for your own advancement, regardless of the consequences to others.”
She paused, and took a breath, while the others waited for her to finish. “On top of that, one of their cardinal rules is secrecy and non-intervention, nearly to the point of paranoia, and you violate that constantly. I'm not saying that's wrong, but from their perspective, you're flirting with the beginnings of a new witch-hunting frenzy. They tend to find those who deal frequently with anything beyond minor elementals and liminals to be worrisome, because no one has ever managed a complete catalogue of what's out there, and some of the known ones have the potential to be dangerous and unpredictable. They're never quite sure what else might be out there. There are individuals who do push those boundaries, but others tend to be a little uneasy about them and it can be controversial as a speciality.” She sighed. “I'll keep trying. Maybe I can find a crack to slip through, and get some information, and try to bring some reason to the whole mess.”
“Got it,” Christian said. “Will they ever stop?”
“They don't have unlimited resources, and to most of the Fellowship it really isn’t going to matter much what you do. You haven’t done anything the Council can point to as an immediate and imminent threat or a massive crime against all witches, so even petty harassment over a perception that you might be doing something risky is arguably breaking their own rules. In time, they'll come to accept the fact that you will not play their game, and will leave you be. If I can get someone to talk to me, I might be able to accelerate the process, but if not, it will have to run its own course. Just stand your ground and it will eventually end. I wish I had some idea how long that might take, but it will.”
“Wonderful,” Christian said wearily. “Well, thank you for trying, anyway.”
Margaret smiled. “Anything you need me for, anything I can do, don't be afraid to call me. For all practical purposes, you are family, and that matters.”
“I'll remember that.”
Winter solstice was on a Thursday; Tuesday morning, the trio bid farewell to Val and Sid, tossed belongings and selves into a taxi to the train station, and headed for Margaret's house.
“You're sure you want us along?” Christian asked. “Wanting time alone with your family is perfectly reasonable.”
“Gran told me to drag you both along,” Eric repeated patiently. “I get time alone when I want it. I want you there. Gran wants you there. My mom and a couple of my cousins want to meet you. Having you there will not interfere with me spending time with my family. Avery is going to want to tell you all about every single cute thing Amber has done since he came to pick her up and how much he loves her. I should have typed all this out so I could just hand it to you, every time you start asking.”
“Sorry. I just...”
“I know. Stop worrying already. Besides, it’s a bit late now. There's my mom!”
It wasn't exactly hard to figure out who he meant: a tall blonde woman was striding towards them, definitely a witch, though not a strong one. She held out both arms to Eric with a brilliant smile, and Eric abandoned his backpack and his laptop to hug her fiercely.
“God, it's good to see you, hon. You look like university's been good for you.”
“University and awesome friends,” Eric agreed. “Chris, Mark, my mom Eileen, and Carly.”
A redheaded woman, also a witch, who'd just caught up with Eileen laughed. “So, we get to meet the infamous Christian Terevan, who has the Fellowship in such a spin.”
Christian rolled his eyes. “I didn't do anything!”
“Exactly. They always kick up a fuss over any witch who refuses to play by their rules, but most of us don't scare them quite as badly as you do. So. Want to come meet more friendly witches, and the rest of the family?”
“You have everything?” Eileen asked.
Eric gathered his things back up. “Yep.”
Belongings fit in the trunk, and the trio fit in the back seat of the car with Chris in the middle—it was a little cozy, but not a problem.
The long driveway of Margaret's house had cars and vans scattered on both sides already. Eileen parked with the rest.
“We're probably close to the last to show up,” Eric commented, as they all walked up the driveway.
“Oh goodie,” Mark murmured. “A whole mob of witches.”
“No, it's a mob of kangaroos,” Christian corrected solemnly. “Witches come in covens.”
“Or families,” Eileen said cheerfully. “Better than half of this family, anyway.”
“Plus a few allies,” Eric added. “Like my cousin Lenore's salamander.”
“That's not an ally,” Mark snorted. “It's a pet.”
“I meant the elemental kind.”
“So did I.”
“Don't let Lenore hear you say that, she and Yselle are very close. Anyway, lots of witches, many of them not particularly strong, and some who are able to see liminals and elementals but otherwise are effectively not witches. Active independent minds and emotional stability seem to breed true more often than strong witchblood in this family.”
“More useful traits, most of the time,” Christian pointed out.
“This from the witch carrying one backpack that's holding five times what it should be able to.”
“Who also happens to be the witch who's going to be in real trouble if that particular experiment gives out,” Christian laughed.
Eric opened the front door and waved the others in.
“Everyone here,” Eileen said softly, “knows that you're responsible for my mother being more active and healthy than she has been for a long time.”
Christian shrugged. “So I traded something I'd figured out for something I really wanted to learn. Honestly, I think I came out ahead on that, but I'm glad it helped her so much.”
Laughter and conversation filled the house warmly, as did quite a lot of bodies. Eric hung all three jackets over others on the hooks to one side, and gestured to them to leave their things there.
There had to be at least two dozen people, maybe more, in the living room, to say nothing of liminals. A six-inch salamander, the fiery colours of its hide shifting and flickering, perched on the shoulder of a walnut-haired girl; a bronze-furred Abyssinian cat watched the room with disconcertingly-intelligent blue eyes from its comfortable position on the arm of the couch. A fluttering drew Christian's attention to the nearly-invisible bird atop the bookshelves, long fanciful feathers transparent as water trailing over the edge. The overwhelming sense was of witchblood, almost intimidatingly so, given that he'd never been around more than a handful of witches ever in his life.
“Everybody,” Eileen announced, “these two are Eric's friends Christian and Mark. I don't think there's much point in going around the room and giving you a list of names, but essentially, this is most of the tribe. A few are with Mom in her sitting room, and Avery and one other haven't showed yet.”
“Go say hi and let them know you're here,” Carly suggested.
“Good plan,” Eric decided.
The sitting room door was open; Eric tapped lightly on it anyway. Margaret waved them in instantly, and a narrow red muzzle emerged from the blankets on her lap.
Christian felt a surprising level of power in the heavily-shielded room. Granted, he could sense two moderately strong witches and one stronger one aside from Margaret and himself, but that wasn't it, it was line-power. Linked to... Jade?
No, not quite.
“Why didn't you tell Eric you're pregnant, Jade?” he said, without thinking, too startled to be tactful.
“What?” Mark spun away from greeting Margaret to look at him, expression full of too many emotions for Christian to unravel quickly.
Eric saw it, too. “I think,” he said to his three as-yet-unintroduced relatives, “that we need to talk to Gran and Jade alone for a bit.”
One, an older man, nodded. “Sounds like it. We'll say hi later.” Once the other two preceded him out, he closed the door securely behind him.
“Bloody hells, fox, what did Eric ever do to you, that you're trying so hard to kill him?” Mark exploded, as soon as the door was shut.
The fox jumped off Margaret's lap and became a small woman with long rust-red hair in a loose white silk dress that didn’t really hide a suggestion of a belly-bump. “I am not!”
“Then how could you let yourself get pregnant? Or are you going to try to tell us it's not Eric's?”
“It is,” the kitsune admitted. “It was an accident.”
“Like sending him to live in the same house as me, without bringing up again there just might be an extremely relevant aspect to his gifts? And don’t tell me you didn’t know about me! Do you have any idea how close he came to being messily dead? Only now, he's going to be dead anyway in a few months. And it was an accident? And people think my kind are dangerous to have around!” He dropped into the nearest chair, golden eyes dark with disgust, and glanced at Christian. “Kitsune are not noticeably any easier on a human parent, for different reasons. Since kitsune are supposed to actually value life, they usually only have children with each other. At least, that’s how I understood it. I’m increasingly thinking that I should throw out everything I used to think I knew about them.”
“Enough,” Margaret said firmly. “Yelling isn't going to clear this up. Have a seat, and let’s sort out what’s going on.”
Christian caught Eric's hand and drew him over to the worn overstuffed loveseat to sit down—the blond couldn't seem to assimilate this revelation. Mark just shrugged, draping one leg over the arm of his chair in a deceptively-casual pose. Jade sank down on a pillow at Margaret's feet.
“Thank you,” Margaret said. “Now. I was under the impression that you were human.”
Mark laughed, with a distinctly harsh note to it. “She didn't tell you about that? Oh, what would witches do without their loyal allies.” Shadows gathered around him, slid away.
“I was worried that if I said anything, she wouldn't let Eric move in with you,” Jade said. “Christian is his best chance. You aren’t a threat to humans you choose to protect, and I had good reason to believe you’d consider Eric under your protection. And you can’t accidentally hurt him.”
“I can’t accidentally hurt him by feeding. You sent him to live with me, without warning even him,” Alexandra said derisively. Christian had an impression of a cat's claws, barely sheathed, but easily bared. Her gaze flicked to Margaret. “Do you know what a lamia is?”
Margaret nodded silently.
“Did that fox of yours tell you Eric’s gifts would reverse the drain if a predator is feeding?”
“It... is something she speculated about a few years ago, without any safe way to prove it.”
“Any guesses what happened when I threw him in bed? I would have killed him as a threat if Chris hadn't gotten there in time. Since I had no idea what it was, it looked like a deliberate attack. Now that I know, Eric is in no more danger from me than Christian is, but it was very close.”
Jade looked down. “There... I might have misjudged. Information on how lamias feed is in short supply, even when asking much more powerful members of my clan, and I had only speculation about that particular aspect of Eric’s gifts. If that happened, then I’m very sorry, that is my fault, and I’m very grateful that the worst didn’t happen. I should have erred on the side of caution and made sure that what I knew and what I suspected were clear upfront.”
“Hold on,” Christian said, reviewing the conversation. “What do you mean, I'm his best chance?”
“Kitsune kits feed entirely off the life-energy of the parents,” Jade said. “Since they are not able to generate their own or reach it from the environment until soon after birth. Under normal conditions, a human, even a strong witch, is unable to sustain that. Even if they can for a while, during birth the drain increases exponentially. As the dark lady there said, we’re usually careful that both parents are kitsune. I... made a mistake. I would prefer, if possible, not to abort, although I would have if I couldn’t find a solution. I still would if there was no other alternative. Eric’s life matters.”
Alexandra made a snorting noise.
“It does! Distance helps, for one thing. I paid attention to what Christian said, which was brilliant, and I’ve been pulling power directly from the nearest ley-lines to feed her, I bet Eric hasn’t had any effects at all. She'll take a lot for the next two and a half months or so, but there's plenty in the ley-lines, and if she does somehow reach to Eric, despite that and the distance and the shields on your house, you can reach the ley-lines too and give Eric back anything he needs. See? I found a way that Eric won't die and I can keep my baby!”
Alexandra considered that. “It might work.”
“It should,” Christian said. “Depends how much energy gets drained, but if the lines are working for Jade, they should for Eric, too.”
“I made a mistake, but it's fixed,” Jade said, glowering at Alexandra.
“You'd better hope it is,” Alexandra growled, “because I am going to be one unhappy lamia if he dies. And, Margaret, you can stop worrying about Eric and Chris' safety around me—save it for anything stupid enough to be a threat to either of them.” The look she threw at Jade made it clear that the kitsune remained potentially on that list. “I will not tolerate that. And I can do something about it.”
“Uh-oh,” Christian said, another thought occurring to him. “How good is the rest of this family at not talking? Your aura's not exactly subtle, Lexa.”
“The shielding on this room will mask well enough that no one will have picked up anything,” Margaret said. “And I am very good at not talking. You're worried about accusations of blood-magic?”
“I think the Fellowship will take any excuse they can,” Alexandra said. “They won't care if it's totally unfounded, to say nothing of ludicrous for someone who cried when our cat killed a mouse. It's a handy explanation for why he's strong and refuses to join their club, and an excuse to gang up on him actively.” She stretched, and called the shadows back, switching to Mark.
“You're probably right, unfortunately. We’ll have to be prepared for that to happen someday, but I agree, trying to put it off for as long as possible is just as well.” Margaret rose. “Well. Shall we?” She crossed the room, her limp scarcely perceptible, to open the door and shoo all four out.
Eric duly introduced his housemates to various family members, and Christian and Mark were absorbed into the larger group effortlessly. Avery, who had come to pick the little calico up and thus had met his cousin's roommates already, wasn't there yet; word had it that he wasn't going to be there until the solstice itself, reluctant to leave his cats for long or subject them to the trip even with explanations.
The girl with the salamander turned out to be the same Lenore with whom Eric spent quite a lot of time online. Christian found himself drawn into a fascinating conversation with her and a shorter, rounder man introduced to him as Uncle Gerard about the sociology of the local witchblood subculture, and whether there were in fact two subcultures or only one with two faces. Salamander Yselle offered a few observations, via Lenore, who appeared to be the only one it would or could talk to.
The Abyssinian prowled over to sniff at Christian, looked up at him with those bright blue eyes, said, *You'll do,* in his mind, and wandered off, tail held erect.
“Don't mind Vir,” Lenore said. “You know how cats are, even non-liminal ones. I’m sure he’s aware of your ferals and your cat... Sid, right? I can't believe you're as strong as you are and don't have some equivalent of Jade, though. I'm not much stronger than Eric, and Yselle found me.” She stroked the salamander half-hidden under her hair with a fingertip, gently.
Christian shrugged. “I haven't felt any particular need to try to find one particular ally,” he said truthfully—he hadn't had to. “Maybe it’s a family thing. My great-aunt had cats around but no liminal friend specifically, other than being friends with my grandmother’s hulder and my grandfather’s naga and then my mom’s harpy. And my dad just makes friends with anything earth-affiliated in no time flat, but nothing specific. I seem to have a knack for calling whatever I need at the time.” On a cell phone, sometimes.
“Useful,” Gerard said. “Being that flexible must be an advantage.”
For the most part, the Lyndell cousins and their friends bedded down all over the floor in the living room and beyond, leaving beds to their elders and to one pregnant cousin who could go into labour any minute, as Christian understood it.
“What a day,” Eric said tiredly, his voice pitched low so it wouldn’t carry far.
Christian snuggled against him, aware of Mark on Eric's other side protectively. “I'll say. You okay?”
“I think so. I hope so. I can't believe Jade...”
“You'll be fine,” Mark said firmly. “We'll make sure of it. You don't think I've gone to all the effort of learning to care about another human just to lose you, do you? I even went so far as to apologize, and that doesn't happen every day.”
“We'll keep you safe,” Christian agreed. “You belong with us, we're not going to lose you now.”
“Not a chance,” Mark said softly.
The reassurance, along with a very subtle touch of magic, did the trick, and Eric did eventually fall asleep and stay that way.
* * *
Before the trio headed for home, Margaret found time to draw them aside again.
“I didn't want to bring this up and spoil the party,” she said gravely, settling into her chair. Eric moved reflexively to help her, then drew back; she noticed, smiled, but didn't comment on it. Jade burrowed into the blanket Margaret drew over her lap.
“Bad news?” Christian asked, joining Eric on the loveseat again, while Mark sprawled in a chair.
“I'm sure Eric's told you I do maintain contacts within the Fellowship—not friends, as such, but acquaintances I occasionally get together with for a cup of tea and a chat. The larger part of the Fellowship isn't evil or malicious, they joined for a variety of reasons that range from networking opportunities to feeling more secure with some structure. There've been a couple that I've managed to bring to see the flaws in the organization who have since left it or begun trying to change it from within. Some are aware of those flaws without needing my help to see them. Those are, unfortunately, not usually the ones who make it to the top of the heap, but there are efforts to moderate some of the more... problematic aspects.”
Christian nodded, still impressed as he had been when Eric had mentioned it.
“They're all avoiding me,” Margaret sighed. “Not a single one will return phone calls. Mundane or magical means, I have been completely cut off. Even those working to change the Fellowship will tell me only that it's the Council's orders and they've made it clear they will punish violations severely.”
“Damn,” Mark muttered. “I guess they haven't given up. Resume battle stations.”
“While that's hardly catastrophic on its own, I'm more than a little concerned as to why. Given how disturbed they seem to be by you...”
Eric sighed. “So they've realized he's connected to this family more than casually. Great. So why haven't they backed off like they did with Avery and the others, to keep from pissing off the whole family? They don’t usually push nearly this hard to try to force independents to join, especially when there are family connections involved.”
“I wish I had an answer. I can only guess that they see you, Chris, as so much of a threat that even the risk of angering the whole Lyndell family is worth it.”
“I didn't do anything,” Christian sighed. “Why are they so scared?”
“They figure if you have power, you'll use it,” Eric said. “And they can’t figure out what you actually are doing with it, since you aren’t sticking with their limits and categories. If they can get you into the Fellowship, you'll be playing a game they know the rules to, and with any luck, they can get you tied to a mentor who can keep you on a leash. Of course, they all want to be said mentor, because you're valuable.”
“I would say the reasons are complex,” Margaret said softly. “You're the grandson of a witch known for his scholarship, and the son of a witch known for her inventiveness in using limited resources and a witch known for his affinity to all things of the earth. That combination is obviously a potent one, since it was probably conducive to your experiments with the ley-lines being successful. Seth and Rosa are known as well for dealings with liminals in particular, yet to all appearances they seem to have left you with no guardian. That's unsettling and bewildering. They are clearly aware that the old connection between your family and ours is no longer latent, it’s active and as strong as ever, and while they’re resigned to the Lyndell family refusing to play along, there are those who have never been happy about that. And Eric is right. In their world, if you have power, you use it for your own advancement, regardless of the consequences to others.”
She paused, and took a breath, while the others waited for her to finish. “On top of that, one of their cardinal rules is secrecy and non-intervention, nearly to the point of paranoia, and you violate that constantly. I'm not saying that's wrong, but from their perspective, you're flirting with the beginnings of a new witch-hunting frenzy. They tend to find those who deal frequently with anything beyond minor elementals and liminals to be worrisome, because no one has ever managed a complete catalogue of what's out there, and some of the known ones have the potential to be dangerous and unpredictable. They're never quite sure what else might be out there. There are individuals who do push those boundaries, but others tend to be a little uneasy about them and it can be controversial as a speciality.” She sighed. “I'll keep trying. Maybe I can find a crack to slip through, and get some information, and try to bring some reason to the whole mess.”
“Got it,” Christian said. “Will they ever stop?”
“They don't have unlimited resources, and to most of the Fellowship it really isn’t going to matter much what you do. You haven’t done anything the Council can point to as an immediate and imminent threat or a massive crime against all witches, so even petty harassment over a perception that you might be doing something risky is arguably breaking their own rules. In time, they'll come to accept the fact that you will not play their game, and will leave you be. If I can get someone to talk to me, I might be able to accelerate the process, but if not, it will have to run its own course. Just stand your ground and it will eventually end. I wish I had some idea how long that might take, but it will.”
“Wonderful,” Christian said wearily. “Well, thank you for trying, anyway.”
Margaret smiled. “Anything you need me for, anything I can do, don't be afraid to call me. For all practical purposes, you are family, and that matters.”
“I'll remember that.”
