Black Stars - The Mors Mortis Trilogy Book 1

Chapter 19 - Family Conflicts

A lie often enough becomes the truth.

- Vladimir Lenin

Jared returned to the live world faster than expected. The ring had only dropped him a block away from his house and a growing sense of disquiet pin-balled around his stomach as he drew closer.

He lived on a typically hilly street in Sydney's north shore, blending in with the other overpriced and overbearing buildings in the area. When he was younger he'd presumed every household held as many secrets as his did. What else required so much empty space, so many alarmed doors and security cameras?

As he'd grown up he realised that wasn't true. His neighbours had alarms so no one stole their flat screen TV's. His home had alarms to ensure no one killed them in their sleep.

He jogged up the front steps and made his way to his father's study, knocking quietly. A faint grunt answered so he pushed it open and walked inside, folding himself into a chair and meeting his father's gaze.

The room reminded Jared of a library. Books lined the walls and silence distorted the sound waves in a way that inspired whispers. Brenton sat behind his desk, eyeing Jared over the papers in front of him.

"Has Leah remembered something?" Brenton asked, by way of greeting.

Jared shifted in his seat, glancing around uncomfortably. Brenton hadn't been happy the last time Jared had come home and said he was bringing Leah back to the live world.

"No, I don't think she's ever going to get her memories back down there, not completely. We're still on the way to the whirlpools, but there've been some complications. We'll be another week or so. I'll let you know before she comes through."

"Everything involving Leah seems to have complications," Brenton muttered.

Jared didn't reply and Brenton sighed.

"Okay. Why are you here then? Surely it's not just to tell me that."

Jared knew the risk he was taking. Time worked differently in the two worlds; every hour here equaled a day or so in the world of the dead. But the accusations Leah had flung at him were pounding inside his head, as consistent as his pulse, and for the first time he wanted to ask his father questions. He wanted confirmations. He wanted reassurances.

"I ran into some of your men," Jared began slowly. "They attacked me. They wanted to hurt me for killing them."

Brenton's gaze sharpened.

"They —" Jared cut off and swallowed, attempting to remove the uncertainty from his voice. "They were happy to die, weren't they?"

Brenton groaned, rubbing his temples. "I don't know why you let these things confuse you, Jared. We're working for the greater good. They knew that, we didn't force them into anything."

"But they attacked me," Jared said bluntly. "Leah and I had to fight them off."

Brenton's smile was amused. "Leah Azemar fighting to protect you? I suppose your plan is working then."

He chuckled and looked down at his paper again, pleased, and Jared's heart gave an unexpected thud.

"I don't know why we need her anyway," he said. "I doubt she knows where the Mors Mortis Device is. Patrick isn't stupid enough to make it common knowledge."

The look Brenton levelled on him was unnerving, almost challenging. "You're my child and you're more involved in this than anyone else."

"I know," Jared said, looking away. "She's different."