Starlight(Pact Arcanum 4) (15 page)

“I remember. He believed those words to be true.”

“Then you are welcome in my family. You may consider yourself part of House Curallorn, if you wish.”

Silence.

“Tobias?”

“Prince Layla, I appreciate the gesture, but Nicholas and Antonio may not.”

“Nicholas will come around.”

“And Antonio?”

She sighed. “My son will most likely wish you to the deepest pit of Hell.”

* * *

Antonio stood at the window of Rafael’s quarters and gazed down at the stark beauty of the Citadel beneath him. He felt Rafael’s hands squeeze his shoulders from behind, and then begin to knead the knots of tension at the base of his neck.

“This must be hard for you,” said the Nightwalker.

Antonio rested his forehead against the cool glass and closed his eyes. “You have no idea.”

“Maybe not. But you’ve lived in his shadow your whole life. Now you find out a part of him has been there all of that time. It must have been frustrating.”

Antonio felt himself relaxing under Rafael’s gentle touch. “I was livid for a while. If they had known he still existed in any form, then the pressure would have been off from the start. He could have shielded me, if he’d wanted to.”

“This AI isn’t your father, Tony. It’s only a copy of the original.”

Antonio tensed again as he heard the wistful tone. Glancing over Rafael’s shields, he saw the memories of Toby running through the Nightwalker’s mind. He jerked away and turned around to face his mentor. “Damn it, you’re just like them!”

Rafael watched him, his hands still extended, surprised at the swift withdrawal. “What did I say?” he asked, with deliberate care.

Antonio’s heart sank at the look of hurt in Rafael’s eyes. He turned away and looked out the window again. “Nothing. It’s not your fault.”

He heard Rafael step back and pull up a chair. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

Antonio continued to face the window. “Raf…leave this one alone, okay?”

“Is that what you want?”

Antonio growled and punched the glass. The armored window shuddered but remained intact.

“That’s a triple-sealed, elysium composite, Tony. You couldn’t break it with a rail gun.”

Tony sighed and rubbed his sore knuckles. “I know.” He turned around to face Rafael finally, and slumped against the glass until he was sitting on the floor. “It’s just…well, all of you were angry at Uncle Rory for keeping this a secret, but you were all pleased as well. You want him back, even if it’s just a copy.”

“And you don’t.” Rafael’s voice was free of judgment.

Tony shook his head. “No, I don’t. He’s the ghost I spent my entire life trying to distance myself from. Because of him, everything I have ever done is nothing but another failure.”

Rafael’s voice dropped into a lower register, and his eyes shaded toward red. “Antonio Jameson, listen to me very carefully. Sure, we had different expectations of you, but we respected that you wanted to be your own man. No one looks down on you for not living the life Toby would have led. That’s a fallacy that you have to accept. Toby’s continued existence does nothing to detract from your achievements. I can’t believe you’re still clinging to that inferiority complex. You’re not the same scared, young man anymore that begged me to sponsor him for Guild membership. When I look at you, I see a brilliant, shining star in the void. We are all so proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Antonio felt his spirits lift incrementally. “Really?”

Rafael shook his head in disbelief. “How can you still think that way? You were born an active telepath. Don’t tell me you haven’t gone snooping in other people’s minds.”

Antonio reddened and said nothing.

“So why don’t you know this already? When was the last time you did a deep read on Nick or Layla? Be honest.”

“Graduation,” muttered Antonio.

Rafael’s eyes widened as his irises shifted back to ordinary brown. “Graduation…from the Academy? That was, what, seventy-five years ago?”

“Seventy-six,” answered Antonio softly. “He was so angry. I never looked deeply at him again. I didn’t want to see all that rage and know that I was the cause of it. When Mother came to see me after I made Captain, I didn’t look into her mind beyond her surface thoughts. I was afraid to know what she thought of me.”

“Jesus, Tony.” Rafael looked completely at a loss. “You’ve been carrying that around all this time?” He shook himself. “Antonio, Nick brags about you constantly to anyone who will listen. And Layla, she prints out your letters and has them bound into books, so she can reread them, even though she has a perfect memory. How can you be so blind?”

Antonio stared at him, thunderstruck. “I…I don’t know what to say to that.”

Rafael sighed. “This is why you’re always in a hurry to leave, isn’t it? You think we don’t want you here?”

Silence.

“Fire and Darkness. Why didn’t you say something earlier? You know you could have told me anything, and I wouldn’t have judged you.”

Antonio rubbed at his eyes. “Telling you would have made it real. If I kept it to myself, then I could pretend it wasn’t true.”

“It
wasn’t
true.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Rafael made an inarticulate noise of exasperation, then stood from his chair and walked to Antonio’s side. He got down on his knees and wrapped his arms around Antonio. “Why are Jameson men so thick-headed?”

Antonio smiled, relaxing again at the show of support. “Don’t talk that way about my dad.”

Rafael snorted. “He was the worst of the bunch.”

Antonio’s mood sobered. “But you loved him anyway.”

“We all loved him.”

“But not the same way that you did.”

Rafael stiffened, then slowly drew back. “I see you’ve been snooping in my mind as well.”

“Why else do you think I’ve been trying to set you up with people since I learned about sex?”

Rafael sat back on his haunches and stared. “Wait. You’ve been trying to fix me up so that I would stop loving Toby?”

“I thought you needed to move on.” Antonio got to his feet and looked down at Rafael. “I guess that’s not going to happen now,” he said softly.

Rafael laughed. “I appreciate your concern, but my love life is really none of your business.”

Antonio shrugged. “Yeah, I figured.” He walked back to the outer door. “Thanks, Rafael. I’ll see you in the morning.”

C
HAPTER 21

September 2142; Sanctuary, French Alps

Nick pushed open the door to his quarters and looked over the formless shapes within the darkened room. “Lights on.”

The glowstrips on the ceiling illuminated, picking out the shuttered windows and the furniture covered by white dropcloths. He stepped forward into the room and let the door swing closed behind him, a cloud of dust swirling in its wake.
God, has it been that long?

He tried to remember the last time he had actually stayed the night in Sanctuary.
Four years.

He walked slowly to the rose-marble fireplace and tapped the recessed switch on the mantelpiece. The iridescent force shield hovering above the mantle shimmered out, revealing a triptych of three oil paintings. Scott. Jeremy. Ruarc. All the men he had loved, save one. Rory hadn’t painted himself, saying that it would be arrogant to give a self-portrait as a gift. The images grew red-tinged and blurry as he fought the urge to weep. In the back of his mind, he imagined Luscian laughing at him from Hell.
“Magic requires sacrifice, you pathetic weakling. If you want to go back, then go. Nothing’s stopping you but your pride and anger. Is that worth more to you than love?”

It’s not that simple,
he thought.

“Isn’t it? Or are you just too stiff-necked to accept your own flaws?”

Nick pushed the accusing voice away. He busied himself for another ten minutes removing the covers from the rest of the furniture and stacking them in a corner. Then he turned off the window force screen to allow in some fresh air, and conjured a minor wind to gently blow the dust out of the room. Dismissing the small whirlwind, he unlocked the door to the ramparts and walked outside to the stone battlement that surrounded the High Tower. Leaning against the chest-high crenellated stone of the outer wall, he watched the rising sun with his senses open wide as the stone buildings of the fortress glowed with crimson light.

He stood there as the hues shifted to orange, then blue-gray as the stone took on its natural color. Finally, he turned away and faced the single heartbeat, for which he had been listening.

“It’s been a long time since we watched the sunrise together.”

Lorcan said nothing, merely closed the gap to stand beside him. He looked down across the slowly awakening city, not meeting Nick gaze. “I left some linens and pillows on your bed. You can change the sheets yourself.”

Nick swallowed his retort, seeing the tightly controlled anger and disappointment boiling in his lover’s mind. “Thank you.”

“I cast a sedative spell on Rory to help him sleep.” Lorcan turned his head to pin Nick with a glare. “You shouldn’t have run away.”

I didn’t run
, he started to say, then thought better of it. “How is he?”

Lorcan snorted in derision. “Shall I pass him a note in class that you were interested? Nick, if you want to know what’s going on with him, then go home and ask him yourself.”

“I can’t.”

Lorcan looked out over the city again. “What’s stopping you?”

The words were so similar to the ones he had imagined, he could hear Luscian laughing at him again.
Go back to Hell, Father.

Nick took a moment to order his thoughts before answering. “I promised myself I would never raise a hand to either of you in anger. I left before the argument could escalate any further.”

Lorcan gave him an appraising stare. “That’s not how anyone else will interpret it.”

Nick covered Lorcan’s hand on the wall with his. “But you believe me.”

Lorcan sighed. “I believe
in
you, Nicholas. It’s not quite the same thing.”

Nick removed his hand and faced the early morning sun. “I guess love isn’t blind after all.”

Lorcan said nothing, and they stood side by side on the wall in silence for a time. “How long are you staying?”

Nick took a deep breath, and let it out, trying to focus on the center of his awareness. “Until I can be sure I won’t lose my temper.”

Lorcan nodded silently. “I’ll tell the kitchen to have a meal set up, if you don’t want to join the rest of them in the Great Hall for breakfast.”

“Thank you, Leshir. I appreciate it.”

Lorcan gave him a ghost of a smile. “Remember that, the next time
I
screw up.”

Nick chuckled as Lorcan walked back inside the castle. For another hour, Nick allowed his thoughts to drift as he meditated, allowing the random clutter of his thoughts to gradually peter out, leaving perfect stillness. Then he spoke out loud to his AI.

“Animikii.”

“Nicholas,” said the disembodied voice.

“Access the Sanctuary Nexus hub. Voice and visual.”

“Stand by.”

A few moments later, an image appeared in the air in front of him of a white spiral design with an eye at the center, surrounded by a gold circle. The spiral symbolized the mind as a function of mathematics. The gold circle representing the AI race had been taken from the revised seal of the Triumvirate when it expanded to become the High Council. Together they formed the seal of the Nexus.
“Governor Nicholas, the Nexus greets you.”

“Let me speak to my brother.”

“Regrettably, that is not possible.”

Nick frowned. “Meaning what?”

“Your brother is dead.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Right. Then let me speak to the AI that was based on him. Is it still a member of the Nexus Council?”

“The Nexus has no individual voice. Your words addressed to one of us will address us all.”

“Don’t make me laugh.” He lounged back against the wall and glared at the Nexus symbol. “Usually, I find these games amusing, but right now they’re just annoying me. Just put the call through, will you?”

“Stand by, Governor.”

Nick closed his eyes and took another deep breath, trying to recapture the mental acuity he had just achieved.

“Hello, Nick.”

Nick snapped his eyes open, the held breath escaping in a rush as the voice slammed into him from a hundred years before. Then he froze, looking at the image before him.

It was Toby, just as he had been, right down to the sweatshirt and jeans he had been wearing the day he died. Only the faint outline of the stone wall behind it defied the illusion, showing through the semi-transparent hologram. It was as if he were looking at a ghost.

Because that’s exactly what it is.
Nick ordered his thoughts. “What’s your name, citizen?”

“Rory calls the fusion of myself and Icarus by the name Revenant. The AIs call me Nexus Violet.”

“And what do you call yourself?”

“Tobias.”

Nick smothered a burst of fury. “Isn’t that just a little presumptuous?”

The AI avatar raised an eyebrow. “It’s what I call myself. I am merely conveying accurate information, asked and answered. Are you sure you can handle the truth?”

Nick controlled his breathing, shutting out the roar of his own blood in his ears. “I’m stronger than you think. I won’t break.”

“Your brother is dead. His body is dust, and his soul has gone beyond the power of the Grace to recall it, even if you were so selfish as to try and bring him back. I am not him. I have never been Toby, and I never will be. Accept it and move on.”

Nick stared at him. “Your bedside manner could use some work.”

“I’m not your therapist, Nicholas.”

“Obviously. So what are you, then?”

“I’m your other nephew, the son of Toby’s bargain with the Nexus.”

“Why didn’t he tell me about the deal? So many things could have been different, if I had known.”