“I was walking the labyrinth the other day, and our paths crossed. He greeted me as usual and, in my solemn state, I thought how nice it’d be to punch him in the jaw.”
My mouth dropped a little.
“Anyway, it was weird. He kinda . . . he smiled like something was funny, then continued on his way without saying anything.”
“So you think he heard your thought?”
“I…well, yeah. I pretty much screamed it to the gods.” He laughed.
“You hate him—David?”
“No.” His shoulders slumped and he looked down at his thumbs, running one over the other a few times. “I don't. But I wish I had his life.”
I smiled softly. “I didn't take you for the kingly sort.”
“Not his life as king, Ara.” He bumped me softly with his elbow. “If I were David, I would have run away with you, lived a normal life, free of all this.”
I placed both hands gently in my lap, looking around at all this. “It’s safer here.”
“No, it’s not. And David knows that, but he cares more about the throne than he does about—” He swallowed his own words, almost physically choking on them. “I'm sorry. I shouldn’t speak that way about him. I—”
“Jase?” I stood as he walked across the room. “It’s okay, really. You—”
“I better go,” he cut in, turning around to face me again. “I'm not supposed to be alone with you.”
“We’re not alone.” I motioned to the librarian downstairs.
Jase gave her a quick smile, which landed on his feet after. “This is too alone for my brother’s wishes. I’ll see ya at dinner.” He patted my shoulder then disappeared, and I stood for a few moments among the shelves and the smell of old pages trying to remember what I came into the library for in the first place.
The housekeeper said he was in the study, the librarian said he was in the garden, and the gardener told me to look in the Throne Room. But as I climbed the stairs of the Great Hall after searching all those places, I heard him call my name.
“Arthur, there you are.”
“You were looking for me?” He caught up on the midway, casually leaning on the railing when he stopped. He looked like human-Arthur today with his hair still wet from a shower, a white T-shirt over denim jeans, sporting that unshaven look that suited his nephews so well.
“Everywhere,” I said, leaning beside him.
“We must have been on a wild goose chase. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Why?”
He balanced his elbow on the railing, cupping a hand over his wrist. “There was a pregnancy test in the infirmary storage closet. Did you take it?”
I held it up. “Why? Did you want it for something?”
“Why are you doing a pregnancy test?”
“I still haven’t got my. . .” I paused on the word, knowing Arthur was old-fashioned. “My, uh—”
“Period?”
I laughed a little. “Um, yeah. So, I thought I’d just see if some miracle had occurred.”
Arthur stood up.
“What?” I stood up, too.
“My dear, a pregnancy to my nephew would not be a miracle. It would be a tragedy.”
My shoulders dropped. “I know. I just. . . a part of me just—”
“Wants his baby.”
“Yeah.” I looked at my feet. “I love him. I want to carry his child. Is that selfish?”
“No, my dear.” He touched my shoulder. “And to be excited about the miracle of life, even if it meant your husband’s death, would not be a sin, either. I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to say that.”
“No, you were right, Arthur. If I have a baby with him, there’s no one else that can use the—” I covered my mouth to whisper, “Dagger of Yahanna on Drake.”
“Yes, but I was quick-tongued, Amara. All life is a miracle, no matter the consequence.”
“But, in this case, also means death.” I toyed with the small box.
He cupped his hands over mine and the box. “Please don't do that test.”
“But, Arthur, if you and I are going to . . . you know, go all Thanksgiving and get happy with a turkey baster, I need to make sure I'm not putting myself through that for nothing.”
“I know. But . . . please wait. David will journey to Elysium this weekend to free the prisoners, you can do it then.”
“Why then?”
“If he’s around when you. . . if you were to discover that you were pregnant, and he, with his ability to read your thoughts again, discovered this, he would not waste time. He would leave immediately to kill Drake.”
“You think?” I looked at the test.
“I am sure of it.”
“Okay.” I handed the test to Arthur. “Hold onto this for me then. I’ll do it on Saturday.”
Arthur smiled, bowing a little as he backed away.
“Oh, and, Arthur.” I reached out for him.
“Yes, my dear?”
“Um, there’s been a new development.” I folded my arms and walked closer, half checking for sly ears. “With. . . With that new power I told you about.”
He cleared his throat, stepping close enough to be accused of wanting a hug. “David’s mind reading ability?”
“Yes.” I checked over my shoulder then leaned in to whisper in his ear. “He can read Jason’s projected thoughts.”
Arthur’s spine straightened. “Good God.”
“Yeah. He’s pretty damn powerful.”
He leaned on the railing again, looking down at the test before tucking it in his back pocket. “The left-handed child.”
“Huh?”
“David. He was always the left-handed child, so I wasn’t surprised when Jason—the right-handed—turned out to have a broader range of skills than his brother upon being turned. But with David having taken his oath, the added power of Mother Nature is like gaining another layer of immortality. His left brain will be developing at a rapid rate, giving him skills on equal to, possibly greater than, his brother.”
I laughed. “Only half of that made sense, Arthur.”
His lips spread in an easy grin. “The powers one gains when becoming immortal are based greatly on which side of the brain they use more.”
“So, left-brained people get more power?”
“No. It’s not about greater or weaker powers, but which powers. I was ambidextrous in my human life.” He held out both hands. “When I turned, the function in my brain which allowed me to use both sides simultaneously also gave me the ability to think at a higher level of consciousness—to see past the impossible, bypass the rules of physics and control things others couldn’t.”