Roff had also taken them flying a time or two, when their mother wasn't around. Tory and Ry knew their mother would be frightened to death to know her boys were taken up so high without her knowledge.
"Is your mother pissed?" Erland Morphis sat in the empty chair next to Ry.
"A little. With Uncle Shadow." Ry whispered low, though he knew his mother still might hear.
"No surprise." Erland Morphis dropped a napkin in his lap and accepted a glass of wine from one of the comesuli servants. "I heard there was some excitement earlier."
"We had an earthquake. Or what felt like one," Ry grinned at his father. Erland pulled Ry against him and kissed the top of his son's head before letting him go.
"That's for coming in late for your lessons," Erland laughed at Ry's embarrassment.
"Let me guess, you were late, too." Gardevik Rath sat next to Tory.
"I was." Tory didn't lie to his father. For any reason. Both boys knew not to attempt to lie to their mother. Uncle Tony always said she could smell a lie a mile away.
"Did Morwin give you extra work?" Garde sipped his wine.
"No, Dad."
"Then you're getting more inventive with your excuses."
"Maybe." Tory was trying to hide a grin. "Dad, I need to go shopping. Sissy's birthday is almost here."
"I think your Aunt Glindarok wants to go off-planet. Your Uncle Jayd said he'd take her. Do you want to go when she goes?"
"Yeah. That will work out great. Thanks."
"I'll let her know. She'll contact your mother."
"I want to go, too." Ry interrupted.
"Why would I ask Glinda to take only one of you, when I know you can't bear to be apart?" Gardevik reached across Tory to tousle Ry's hair. "You're worse than twins."
Ry grinned at Uncle Gardevik. He liked his High Demon uncle quite a bit. The only trouble was, Uncle Garde, with his dark hair and good looks, didn't appear different from any other humanoid, most of the time. You'd never know he was High Demon until he became angry and smoke curled from his nostrils. Ry hadn't seen Uncle Garde go Thifilathi, but Tory had. Uncle Garde had forced the turn for Tory, so he could see what he might be someday. Tory said that it would be frightening to anyone who didn't know what they were seeing.
Ry had seen all the life-sized sculptures of High Demons in Full Thifilathi inside King Jayd's palace, too. Unlike the smaller Thifilathi that all male High Demons had, only Full Thifilathi likenesses lined the marble halls of the High Demon palace on Kifirin. Yes, the whole planet was named after Uncle Kifirin. Ry and Tory were still trying to piece that puzzle together. All those statues at the High Demon palace stood around sixteen feet tall and depicted horns, lengthy canines and scale-covered torsos. Ry shuddered at the memory.
"Honey, are you all right?" Ry had drawn his mother's attention.
"My son is fine," Erland rubbed Ry's back before turning to smile at the Queen.
"Erland Morphis, he's my son, too," the Queen grumped.
"I know that," Erland was still smiling at Lissa. The Queen wrinkled her nose at Ry's father and went back to talking with Sissy.
* * *
"We think something's up, and I'd give anything to be in that Inner Circle meeting right now," Tory informed Sissy. They sat on Tory's long bed—the palace staff had brought in a larger one when Tory hit six feet. Sissy had light-brown hair—a mix of her father and mother. She had her father's gray eyes, though, and someday she would be a beauty. Anyway, that's what Tory's father said. Sissy kept her long hair in a braid most of the time, otherwise it curled furiously and she hated that.
"What are they talking about?" Nissa asked. "Tory, have you been eating in bed again?" She pointed to a stain on the edge of the coverlet.
"That's grape juice. I was hoping it would blend in," Tory muttered, flushing with embarrassment. He was hungry most of the time. Uncle Tony said it was because he was growing so quickly.
"Purple doesn't go with brown," Nissa teased.
"Could have fooled me," Ry tried to tickle his little sister.
"I think they're talking about the quake and the power outage," Tory wasn't getting in on the rumpus. "Uncle Tony said they hauled twenty tourists off to jail in Casino City. He didn't say, but I think they're worried that those people were expecting something like this. Uncle Tony said that people were trying to loot immediately. I wonder how Niff's managed."
"Niff's is fine; they have backup generators for all the freezers," Ry said, letting his sister go. She stopped giggling and settled into the crook of Ry's arm.
"You want to go see the two in the dungeon?" Tory changed the subject.
"There are two in the dungeon?" Nissa almost squeaked the question.
"Yeah. Both seventeen. Beat up a boy in the Green Fae village. Almost to death, that's what we heard," Ry nodded knowingly. "We went to see the boy yesterday, because we knew those two downstairs were lying when they said the other boy started it. If you saw him, you'd know just by looking that he didn't start anything. He said as much, but he also said that one of the Half-Fae put those two downstairs up to the whole thing. Tory and I think he may be right." Ry squeezed Sissy's shoulders and dropped his arm. "Want to go see? Uncle Drake and Uncle Drew are in the meeting, and Uncle Gavin and Uncle Tony are in there, too."
"But how are we going to get past the guards?" Nissa looked at both her brothers. She wanted to see this for herself, but knew she'd be in trouble if they got caught. Their mother didn't want them to go anywhere near the dungeons.
"I'll skip us in after bro here checks things out," Tory grinned. "That's what we did the last time."
"Let's go." Nissa liked intrigue just as well as anyone.
* * *
"Why do all the vids show dungeons as dark places with water dripping somewhere?" Nissa whispered as she followed her brothers down a well-lit corridor and past cells lining one wall. Each cell had a sink inside, in addition to a narrow bed made of spelled wood. The wood couldn't be torn apart to make any kind of weapon. The sheets and blankets were clean, too, as were the floor and walls.
"Those vids are just to frighten you," Ry whispered back. "People ought to be more afraid of losing their freedom."
"Practicing philosophy again?" Tory elbowed Ry.
"That's what Em-pah Wylend said. He's the philosopher," Ry poked Tory in the ribs. Tory's rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the stone floor as he attempted to get away from his brother.