On her way home, Maiel's battle with Mort replayed in a loop, intensifying her guilt. The blur of the sunset-hued city faded to watery tones. A quick pause and then the hills of Eden surrounded her. Maiel soon walked the edge of her garden. The cobalt armor ran like recoiling mercury into the penannular. The layers of pale yellow gown extended to her ankles. The device slipped to her shoulder, holding the garment in place, and returning to the shape of a small silver moon in a field of cobalt. Her hair, now freed from the helmet and braids, hung in long, soft curls. Her sour mood sharpened her ethereal features. Her presence in the White City would only allow the alders to corner her before she had her temper battened down. They would sense her weakness and use it.
Maiel moved slowly along the stepping-stone path, seemingly indifferent like a feline, but deliberate nonetheless. The tall ginger structure, reminiscent of a gothic home, towered at the center of the garden. It had been built to Dominic's design once she carried their first child. Now the house was a reliquary of their lives and a refuge from their mortal incarnations. The shadow it cast currently darkened that edge of the garden. The windows looked down on her, shining like polished sheets of hematite and reflecting the azure sky and tree line. The house stood as it always had, as did the garden, but something was changed. She felt it deeply. She eyed her surroundings, trying to pinpoint exactly what, but failed, and dismissed the sensation as residual energy from Mort. Energy affected Zion in odd ways, especially unpredictable forces in emotions.
The front door swung inward. From the dark interior of the house poured several children with small wings raised up on their backs and shouting with joy. They hurried down the steps, red and gold hair gleaming as their heads caught the sun peeking around the house. Their faces beamed enough to return the orb's favor. Maiel's heart leapt, revived by the cheery greeting. Five children in total danced around her, vying for her attention. She smiled at them, though the pain was still in her eyes, shame at her lack of discipline.
"Practicing again?" Maiel asked, gathering them all in a warm embrace.
The children quietly murmured or nodded in answer, accepting her affection. She was the center of Zion to them. They leaned against her until they all crumpled to the ground in a giggling pile of limbs. Maiel lay for a moment with them in the cool grass. The ground drew away the anger and shame. She was left with a knot in her stomach, a mix of remorse and affection, regret and love. The eldest-Ian-lay on her shoulder. His golden head received a quick kiss. Then she kissed another golden head-Samuel, her fourth child-on her other shoulder.
"You didn't give your janya trouble today, Ian-I hope," Maiel said sternly.
"No," the eldest replied.
"That's good. We both hate lectures."
Maiel lay in view of the warm sky, feeling cold. Her twin daughters, small copies of their amba, jumped up and danced about the yard. Their revelry overturned a mouse nest and the girls set to fixing their mistake, while being awed by the tiny pink young of the doe. Samuel and Ian joined them. Maiel sighed, sitting up to watch. The children had few cares but what their pitarau brought to them. The youngest remained, holding himself on her legs to keep her still. Little Michael squealed, tossing his golden curls and grinning wildly. He was as bold and brave as his namesake, her commander, General Mikhael. She gave the name to honor his faith in and favor of her. The others took to calling him Mikey.
"Half devil, the lot of you! Let's go inside. I've missed you." Maiel laughed and snatched up the toddler.
While she placed Mikey on her hip, Samuel raced over. He grabbed her free hand, always desperate to be acknowledged. The girls skipped around the peach roses and dark green shrubs, singing a rhyme. Maiel drew a deep breath and felt that she might forget what had happened by evening. Her children's joy lifted her spirits like nothing else. It was possible to fix the small bit of damage done. After all, Lena was secure, and all she needed was a rest and a quest or two to fix the damage.
"Daddy's been painting, but he had Chaiel and Amaiel watch the babies while you were gone," Ian told on his janya, as they made their way back to the porch.
"You and Sam didn't help either, I'd wager." Maiel smirked.
"Girl's work." Ian grimaced and turned away.
"Why is it always girl's work?" Maiel sighed to no one in particular.
Ian laughed and played. Maiel sighed again. She squeezed Samuel's hand and looked to her romping daughters. She waited for the usual response of indignation. They held their tongues, but only because they had not heard him. Lifting her fourth by his arm, she looked at his smiling face.
"Don't you be like your akha," she said and set him back down. To the girls, she asked, "And how were the little ones, my darling girls?"
"Good," Chaiel replied, running a circle around her.
"I don't think they'll ever be ready to help daddy," Ian said, pulling a toy sword from a bush and bouncing the blade on the toe of his shoe.
"Perhaps not," Maiel said. "But that would be a good thing, because your janya will rise very soon. That will make you man of the house for a time."
Maiel heard her words and felt the hollowness in them. They were said too often. Hurrying the children up the steps and through the front door, she remained a moment on the porch. The shadow in the garden darkened, like the future she foresaw. A deep breath relaxed her shaken ego. Everything would be fine again in a few passings of the sun and moon. Rest would return her strength and good sense.
Argus's pack converged from the woods, conferring with their leader on the mission. They acknowledged their captain with their solemn wolfish salutes, a paw set forward with a shallow bow, and passed to their dens outside the rear garden. Turning on her heel, Maiel entered the house. The children were already scattered through the rooms, pattering along stairs and halls, shouting and carrying on. They would play at being children at odd times during the next few cycles, as they prepared for the next incarnation. She treasured these times; they brought back memories of when they were truly small. She shut the door and Argus nosed through his hinged panel.
The telltale click of nails on the wood floor roused her attention to the hall between the foyer and the kitchen at the back of the house. A long-bodied, black wolf looked at her from a pair of startling gold eyes. It was Shee, Argus's mate. Shee was wild born in the far fields of Elysion. Argus had discovered her in their random travels. The she wolf was a wanderer in the wild lands who'd stolen her best friend's heart. Shee's large belly hung low with her first litter of pups, due any minute. By all appearances, the pack was about to double. Maiel gave Shee's head a solid stroke, understanding too well how the soon-to-be mother felt right then, and moved toward the stairs to the second floor. The black wolf stole her heart too, for she was a noble soul and patient teacher. Shee followed her, leaning on Maiel's legs affectionately.
The house fell mute, except for the small voices whispering in other rooms. The serenity was a good sign that her husband worked alone in his studio. Dominic's guardian, Evocati Luthias, often came to visit, altering the energy of the dwelling like bass drums in an orchestra. The young and rough-hewn legiona made it difficult for her to be candid in the household. She liked him well enough, but there were limits to the things she shared with anyone outside her immediate family.
Maiel and Shee reached the second floor, where they found Argus lying in the hall on guard duty of the nursery. Metiel and Muriel were fast asleep in their cribs. The alpha leader reported to position, expecting his mate to need him. He sniffed his hello to her, ready to go wherever either female needed him. His devotion warmed Maiel.
"Make sure the children do not disturb us," Maiel said to him.
Maiel peeked into the nursery. She could make out the golden autumn heads of the boy and girl where they lay in their cribs. They'd come to her keeping after Dominic's last incarnation and her brief absence. They would remain small for far longer than their human counterparts, but it was still too short a time for the one who enjoyed them so. She crossed inside, desiring a touch to know they were in fact there, or to know she was in fact there. In the middle of the room was a soft, round cushion and blankets for the expectant amba of the house. Shee usually slept in the nursery, making it her job to protect Maiel's youngest.
"I have much to say and don't wish them to overhear," Maiel whispered to herself, smoothing the blankets and touching their foreheads.
The twins were completely down, suckling in their sleep. Argus locked eyes on her, his butt drooping to the floor. He gave a soft woof and ducked his shaggy head. Shee drew up to his side, giving his muzzle a quick lick and then lay down with some effort. Maiel stepped past them. She remembered a time when she felt that way about Dominic. She told herself it would be that way again soon, but she only felt dread. Her refuge had become a gilded cage where she was tied down with a mother's drudgery and no relief.
"Pray thee, be too busy to hear me," Maiel whispered to herself.
In the middle of the hall, a set of stairs rose to the third floor. The steps went around until they stopped at the opening of a broad, cross-shaped space with large windows peering out over the landscapes and skyscapes. Maiel entered her husband's lair. The air was full of the odor of paint, lacquer, and dust. Worked canvases hung on the bare plaster walls and supports to dry. Tools hung from exposed beams overhead. She looked up to the point of the turret roof, where two small box windows peered into the azure above. Work tables were cluttered with brushes and bottles, cups and palettes, blank and half-worked canvases.
Dominic came through an arch near the far south window. A staircase beyond the tiny bathroom led into their bedroom below. He dried a brush with a clean rag. A frown darkened his matured features, framed by a dark-gold goatee. Instead of his old uniform, he wore a paint-smeared black T-shirt and drab green pants. Paintbrushes and palette knives stuck out of the pockets along his leg like barbs. A sadly stained rag hung from his back pocket, forgotten in his haste. His golden head was hidden beneath a backward flat cap. It was his usual state of dress when he was lost in the throes of his art, a trade he had taken up soon after their ketu. He wanted to be with his young family and not work from long distances. He eyed her a moment, halting mid step, then flashed a smile. He was alone.
"How's Lena, angel?"
"Fine," Maiel answered, reluctant to speak yet. He gave her a sidelong glance and she added, "I had Zaajah take her to Otzar."
"I had no doubt you'd cross her safely. You didn't need the Samsaran Order to help."
But she did. How could he not tell that by looking at her faded state?
Maiel stared at a painting hung above the work table. It was she, lying beside her pool, a hand in the water and her filmy gown barely wrapped about her. She had not posed for the piece. He had the picture of her lying like that imprinted in his mind after their first night together-something neither would soon forget. Her stomach twisted, knowing it was his favorite work. She sighed as he returned to his latest creation. It would have been easier if he stopped what he did and decided to make love to her instead. She gathered he understood that by the wry grin on his lips. Maiel ran her hand over a work table, preferring to stay on the other side of the room if he meant to make a joke of her. She felt strangely awkward there, as if she were an intruder. A memory flashed in her mind that turned her cheeks crimson. She rolled her eyes, picked up a cup of red paint and swirled it with a brush from a blue cup. It was aggravating at times how he still had an effect on her after all these years and children. The memory of that night by the pool persisted, making her even more prickly. It was ridiculously sentimental.
"Why would I be too busy for you, Doll Face?" he suddenly asked, watching her from the corner of his eye.
That look was like razors to her skin. It went too deep, too quick. The thoughts in her mind were no memory, but a suggestion placed by Dominic's increasingly skillful mind. She set the cup down, feeling the hair on her arms stand up with anticipation.
"Your growing abilities are trying, to say the least," Maiel said, standing on the other side of the easel, with her arms folded to hide the goose bumps.. "I thought perhaps Luthias might be here."
"You'll still love me in the morning." He smiled, running his brush down the canvas with slow purpose. "And Luthias is at the council halls finalizing some details for our next trip. It may help you relax."
Dominic's eyes flashed. He was changing, despite his outlook to the contrary. She stared at him a moment and decided not to mention it. Retreating to the windows, she looked out over the forest that stretched forever. She knew he would take ahold of her in another moment, and as much as she welcomed him, at the same time she wanted to drive him away.
"What happened?" Dominic asked, setting his brush down and wiping his hands on the rag from his pocket.
Maiel rubbed her arm and watched an Aeris Order with blue plumage fly across the sky. She didn't respond. Her failure with Lena had grown too painful a shame and she wanted to bury it. Now would be the best time for him to do as he wished. She didn't want to talk about it. The need to think of anything else but her shame and guilt took over. She could feel him near her before his arms closed around her and he placed a kiss on her neck.
"Nothing to worry over," Maiel replied weakly. "Just bruised pride."
"Your brothers stopped by just after Argus returned," Dominic said, holding her tightly. "They thought you'd be home by then. You just missed them. They waited for you as long as they could," he added, when she kept silent.
The world disappeared beneath her feet for a moment. Her sattva pulsed anxiously. Stammering, Maiel spun around and freed herself from his no longer comforting embrace.
"What did they want?" she asked with a troubled look.
"They said the alders wanted to see you on some important matter. Your mother sent them," Dominic answered. His face was marked with confusion.
"The alders," Maiel repeated.
"It seemed important."
"Did they say anything else?"
Dominic pursed his lips and shook his head. Her obvious concern for the visit gave her away. He was suspicious now. Alders often called on her before and after an assignment, but this was different. She lost her temper, risked Lena in the process and threatened to abuse them for their treatment of a poorly trained youngling. They had dealt with her strong words before, but she'd never claimed their tactics breached the law.
"Tell me what happened, Doll Face," Dominic said, sensing the tatters.
"What happened is what should be expected from spending centuries incarnating into decadent flesh with no realization of the goal. What happened is that I'm overcome with emotions and forgot my place. I questioned their authority. I lost my focus, and in vile anger I nearly let the shadowalkers drag Lena to Jahannam," Maiel said, her mood intensifying.
Dominic stared at her, taking in each blast. He crossed his arms, trying his best not to be angry at her accusations. The fire in his eyes lit up again. Indeed, he was changing, but he refused to acknowledge it or embrace it and she grew weary. Regardless, he believed her demeanor was wrong, if not shockingly bigoted.
"It is your right and even your duty to say what you observe," Dominic finally said. He measured his tones carefully, but his control slipped and his anger showed. "But don't you dare say I'm not trying, or that humans are diseased because of the path they must take. Would you shame Luthias and declare his efforts lazy? Call him diseased?"
"Over two thousand years," Maiel breathed.
"You were born a duta; don't judge souls. Your brother doesn't."
"It's my place to judge you. I'm your wife-your helpmate," Maiel snapped back, blinded by anger. "Your guardian has nothing to do with your choices and I wouldn't think to mark him with the shame that belongs with you. I may have been born a duta, but I too had to learn what that meant."
"How dare you," Dominic growled.
"How dare you."
Maiel's eyes narrowed with anger. They stared each other down, both refusing to relent. Her blue eyes turned the shade of the moon, the shade before she became a four legged menace.
"This is stupid. You don't truly feel this way. What's wrong? Is it because they didn't give you the watcher you asked for? You didn't need them. They're dangerous besides, and you shouldn't be so keen to work with them. They're the reason so many fell," Dominic snapped.
Dominic took her arm. He saw the marks of the burns. They'd heal in a few passings of the sun and moon, but he gathered she was poisoned by serpent blood until then. His gaze returned to hers, and his suspicions grew.
"Perhaps we should have allowed you to go in directly. At this point, you'd have burned down and I'd be done with you," Maiel replied.
Dominic gestured, waving her accusations away. He knew she had a close friend who was a watcher, whose history was questioned because of his familial relations and work. He was a good engel and she didn't like others talking about him. Dominic leaned on his work table, turning his back to her. This wasn't the first time they'd fought about who she was friends with. He'd all but isolated her, quite concerned by her connections.
Maiel gripped her fists at her side. Her rage only grew. She wanted to pound her fists against him until he broke. Her head filled with accusations and blame. The whole process should have been resolved long ago, yet he kept delaying. He enjoyed living in mortal flesh too much, and he was in no rush to shed it. Tears stung her eyes as she felt her energy flicker. Dominic had torn her, not Mort. The shade merely had pulled on the brittle strings still holding her together. Turning his back was unforgivable.
"Put this right," Maiel choked on her agony.
Dominic snorted at the request. With a fist on his hip, he shook his head. He wouldn't look at her.
"You can put this right. Just focus on what you're trying to accomplish and we can move past this. I'll heal then," Maiel said.
"Angel," he breathed, half turning. His mouth opened as he struggled with his words. He always struggled with his words. Then he said, "I do as I'm instructed by the alders. The ones who send me to Samsara. Not my choice. If it were, I would have my wings by now. Luthias does the best he can, but his hands are tied. He can't just fill my head with every drop of information. They would cast him out! He just graduated from the title of youngling. It would be devastating for him."
"You're being sent back because you refuse to take control, not because Luthias won't cheat for you. Not because of the company I keep. The fact that this even comes up makes me wonder about you."
"I've watched you die a hundred times-murdered, aged, sick." Dominic turned. He looked ashen and tears glistened in his eyes. "You think I want more of that?"
"And I, you," Maiel said. Her eyes faded to their brilliant sapphire tones. "It's I who suffers, because I remember it all like it happened minutes ago. Don't you see that? Can't you tell that I'm being torn to shreds by this? Are you so concerned with advancement that you care nothing for those you use to get it? What of your friend Luthias? Isn't he precious to you?"
"I won't fight with you; you're just tired. You're better than this," Dominic said, rubbing his face with both hands.
Dominic returned to his easel and picked up a brush. His hand didn't tremble. It was steady as she'd once imagined his love for her. Her heart twisted within her breast. A tear slid from her eye and she stood watching him, waiting for him to say anything.
Several tense moments passed before Maiel gave up hope of him doing what he should: fighting for her. Fighting for his family. She took the stairs to their bedroom. Sleep was needed before she said another thing and irreparably hurt him and herself. There were other ways to go about such a discussion, but she was too fatigued to think them through. Of that, he was wholly right. Maiel felt sick at having slammed him with anger and racist thoughts.
Opening the door at the bottom of the steps, she traversed the short hall and entered their room. She examined her sattva for nails, the rough spikes shadowalkers used to anchor a burning in an atman they targeted. Mort may have stung her before he died. There was no wound aside from the burns. She doubted his acid blood had made her lash out.
No one wanted Dominic to fail, least of all himself. That was why he entered Samsara through Otzar. In such an interface, the dark effects of his experiences were lessened. However, the same effects on a duta were quite different, and she found herself suffering. Like her mind, the house was full of niches and alcoves, every space filled with a memory that made her ache. Drawing the heavy curtains, she made the room as dark as possible and then crawled into bed. She pulled the covers to her chin, trying to insulate herself against her reflections. Every thought was tender and she forced her eyes closed to ease the pain. A sigh escaped her and then the flood broke. Curling into a ball, she wept in frustration. She missed the barracks and her fellow soldiers, where a night of revelry in the lunatic's pit would dissipate her misery.
Dominic's soft caress woke Maiel from a black slumber. She dreamt nothing and remembered nothing except for inconsolable tears before unconsciousness. He pulled her close, rolling her over for a kiss. Maiel felt weak, too weak to deny him or respond. She was still half asleep and wanted to continue her rest, so tattered from her mission. Her mission. She lost herself in his lovemaking until they were both satisfied. Lying there, drowsy with passion, she felt how routine it was. Suddenly, the events of the day clamored for more attention. It severed the sweetness of his touch like a heavy ax and left only the painful tenderness. He pulled her close, attempting another round.
"Enough," Maiel murmured.
"It's the best thing for it." He smiled, insisting with another kiss.
"I need to rest. I spent too much energy on this mission," Maiel said, pushing him back.
"Trust me, Doll Face," he said, pulling her under him.
"I said-"
Maiel let him kiss her. She was in no state to fight him and her sattva now responded to the attention, as if made to. As he persisted, she thought of their argument and her guilt squashed her protests. She tried to put it out of her mind, and wrapped her wings around him. She pulled him closer and returned his kiss with equal energy. The doubts in her mind vied heartily for her attention, until she was forced to imagine them in another place and time, a trick that was becoming commonplace to find any arousal.
Exhausted, Maiel slipped back to the mattress. Her wings folded miserably and she looked at him, lying there satisfied. A frown spread across her face.
"This isn't going to fix anything," Maiel said.
"Mai," he breathed.
Dominic's hand stroked the curve of her side. He eyed her, concerned, the desire still apparent on his features so that he reminded her of an ikyl. Sex wasn't going to dissolve her worries or reverse her actions.
"You think the answer to every disagreement between us is to shut me up with-"
Dominic stopped Maiel's words with a thumb over her lips. He eyed her with warning. She wanted to clamp her teeth down on the finger, but she only scowled. He took his hand away and dared another kiss. The embrace whipped the flames of her tender emotions. She hated him when he ignored her feelings like this. She pushed him away and rose from the bed. Her wings sagged miserably.
"Come here," he said, angered.
"No," Maiel said, looking back quickly.
Dominic meant to have his way. Not a single well-formed muscle on his sattva could have changed her mind right then. She lifted her chin and turned her back, quickly moving toward the bathroom door. Making love after everything that had happened made her feel so grimy.
"I'm going to take a bath."
"Then I'll come too," he said, jumping up from the covers and following after her.
"I want to be alone," Maiel said.
"You can't hide from me every time you're mad-we have problems. And you can't just hide from the alders, either," he said, as she disappeared behind the door, locking it shut.
Maiel stood with her eyes closed, trying not to explode again.
"Maiel-I've been your husband for too long for you to be so shy," he added more affectionately.
Maiel sat on the edge of the tub and hugged herself. Shy? She was hardly shy. She just didn't wish to lie there hurting with someone who couldn't care less.
The room was appointed with everything a human soul required. Things. Belongings. She had grown accustomed to their use. That idea oppressed her. There was a time when all she needed was Argus and the pool. She shut her eyes and thought of the moonlight over the glade, Argus lying in the grass nearby as Shee lay with him. Her skin being cooled in a soft breeze that played with her hair. She could feel the breeze along her curves, like Dominic's hand when they were newly bound, trembling and unsure. The water was decadently consoling as it slipped round her hand, back and forth, back and forth.
Maiel opened her eyes and found herself in the place of her dream. Blinking was better than sliding, as it did not leave a strong trail, and in this case, she did not want to be followed.
Lifting her head from the stone, Maiel saw a naiades female watching from the waterline. They didn't speak, but she recognized the young soul as one who came there often at night to relish the waters. Maiel understood and allowed it. In fact, there were several naiades younglings that took a shine to this place and to her. Their forms were a wonder, much like the element they favored.
Maiel's attention went past the girl to where Shee and Argus lay in the grass of the field, twined comfortably with one another beneath the moonlight. It was time for her to birth her litter and her discomfort grew. The hardwood floors of the house pained her joints and swollen belly, even with cushions. A small curl in Shee's lips warmed Maiel's heart. Shee was comfortable in the soft high grass with her mate beneath her muzzle. They were perfectly matched and never showed a shred of doubt.
Guilt swept through Maiel. After three millennia of devotion, she was asking the same questions as on the day of their ketu. She thought the years gave them an unwavering bond despite her doubts. So unwavering that Dominic would know where she went, regardless of how she travelled. There was only one place she ran to find solace and it wasn't in the safety of her order. He'd open the door, hoping to find her in the tub where he could master her, but instead would find her gone. If she didn't sink into his embrace, she ran to the pool. She rubbed her arms and decided to walk the glade instead of taking a swim. She didn't need to help him by being caught vulnerable. She was too weak to fight him, especially if he was bold enough to follow. He was usually patient, but since the last incarnation, his temper was closer to the surface and his demands more fervent. The thought made her wonder which one of them had changed and how.
***
Dominic listened outside the bathroom door. It was deathly silent on the other side. Trying the knob, he found it still locked. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. He had seen others unlock doors by their thoughts alone. His children could do it, but it was impossible for him. Gritting his teeth, he tried again. It opened and his eyes popped open with it. An emerald glow twinkled inside his iris, pulsing before the color returned to normal. He smiled to congratulate himself. Perhaps his wife was right. He just needed to focus.
"Mai? Doll Face," he called.
The bath was empty and so was the room. He bared his teeth, half amused and half angry. She would rather run from him than face what had happened. Understanding his bride after all this time was still quite the chore. He chalked it up to being of such different races. Stepping into the room, he tried to think of where she had gone to avoid him. Her words repeated in his mind. Dominic caught his reflection in the mirror. The pool. His eyes flashed and he lost his thought. Leaning close to the mirror he looked for the strange light to flash again. His eyes stared back at themselves, two plain, jade stones. He was about to poke fun at his foolishness when they flashed again. The light pulsed inside his irises, in a ring of heat, similar in appearance to his wife's eyes. Then the glow faded, leaving a stinging sensation.
"She's right. About time," he muttered, rubbing his eyes.
Gathering himself, Dominic focused on his wife, who ran from him to lick her wounds alone in the woods. He should be with her. The light in his irises would surely lighten her mood. It meant that it was time. It had to be. If she was so upset about his efforts, this would wipe that all away. They could cancel their incarnation and work on themselves.
Dominic raced out the front door. Shadows on the edge of the garden shifted like a line of people. He drew up short. Two figures moved toward him: Zach and his old commander. Joel wore a bright grin, but his elder brother was straight-faced. Dominic guarded his thoughts. He couldn't let them know she had run. She'd never forgive him if these two invaded her refuge to confront her. The only thing worse would be allowing her mother and aunt out there. He prayed they hadn't come too, and proceeded to search the garden.
"Akha." Joel grinned, clapping Dominic's shoulder with his large hand. It was often hard to realize this tree-sized Apollo was the twin of the fine creature he called his wife.
"Where is our khata?" Zach said, jumping to the point.
Dominic stammered a little and rubbed his neck.
"Resting," he replied.
Zach frowned at him, even deeper than usual. Joel laughed and clapped Dominic's back, setting him off balance.
"Shouldn't you be at home with Cora?" Dominic asked the younger of the two.
"She's busy preparing her assign for his next incarnation. Where were you off to?"
"She-Shee isn't in the house. I was checking to see if they had gone off. With the puppies due, I want to be sure they're safe."
"Thoughtful." Joel smiled at the lie.
"The council wishes to meet with my khata immediately. They've been waiting long and are irritable. Lord Ganesha will be most displeased," Zach informed him.
"Yes. You said the last time," Dominic said, raising his brow. A beat passed and then he asked, "Why didn't they involve the union? Or the outposts? Do you know? She was pretty angry about that."
"No need for them," Joel answered.
Dominic nodded, not convinced after Maiel had showed up so drained. Another hand couldn't have hurt to make sure the kid got back all right.
"Wake her," Zach insisted.
"I don't dare, not with how she showed up," Dominic said, crossing his arms. He stood tall, trying to match their height and breadth.
Zach crossed his arms and glared down his nose at him, bewildered by his display.
"You may think it's all right to wake that wildcat, but I know better."
"I'll go. She loves me best anyway," Joel said, stepping toward the house.
"Joel, don't. Let me," Dominic called him back.
Joel raised his eyebrow at this. Dominic knew he wasn't fooling either of them. He eyed the brothers a moment, then turned and went back into the house.
"Where's my daughter?"
Dominic stopped just inside the door, startled by the sudden and robustly spoken question. He faced a dark-clad alder, many years older than he, female, tall and slender. She wore the full black robes of her vocation and kept her silver mane beneath something like an orthodox priest's habit. In her arms, she held his youngest children, a set of twins who resembled their parents. It seemed that twins ran in the family. This was his second set. He looked them over and then tried to smile at the matriarch.
"Mother," Dominic said, winding past her. "I was just going to wake her."
"She's not in bed," his mother-in-law informed him. "Where's she resting?"
"Well, she's in my studio," Dominic lied.
"Here," she said, passing the children off to their uncles, who blocked his retreat.
Joel received his niece with cheer, immediately cooing at her and making her bubble with laughter. Zach received his nephew with reluctance, holding the boy before him and examining him like a scientist peering at a cross section of some organ. The boy regarded him in the same way.
"It's good practice for the both of you," Alexandrael told them, patting Zach's arm in attempt to ease his discomfort.
"Why in all of heaven would she sleep in that dusty old room?" A new voice called down from the top of the stairs.
"Aunt Magiel." Dominic half-cursed the name as he spoke it under his breath.
Dominic rolled his eyes shut and rested his head in his hand. His wife's moody aunt was the twin to her mother. They called her matula, duta for aunt, he learned. He rarely used their terms, quite settled on human language. Besides, it was a sign of familiarity and affection that he simply didn't feel for them. Magiel was an expert at goading him, trying his patience more times than he cared to admit. If it weren't for the love of her niece he would have given her a piece of his mind and suffered what might come of it, just to see the shock on her pale, curdled face.
"Because she finds comfort among my things," Dominic replied. She cradled his first born, as Ian played at being a kid again. All of them tramped around at the ripe age of six human years. Far too big to be coddled so, and most likely in desperate need of sleep. "Must you get them up?"
"Why not? They should be witness."
"Witness to what?"
"To the alders' decision," Aunt piped, as if it were obvious.
"Decision? What decision?" he asked, but they sternly stared at him in silence. "She isn't here," Dominic added, turning from them.
Dominic went into the dark, front room, seeking space away from his in-laws.
"Why in Jahannam not? Zaajah said she went home," Joel said, quite forcefully.
Joel was the only one of them actually welcome in his home. Dominic glared at him, not feeling so at that moment. He sunk onto the sofa.
"I wish I could tell you," Dominic said.
"What did you do?" the aunt demanded, setting her grandnephew back on his feet. She charged into the dim sitting room. "Did those shadow creatures lure her away again? Were you and your guardian drinking all day? I've never seen so much alcohol fill the gizzard of an engel as that one. You'd think you'd float away," she said, assessing him like a snob.
"I didn't evolve to her liking yet," Dominic said bitterly, beating them to it. "Not to your liking either, as you won't forgive me one incident."
Dominic didn't have to see their faces to know that his mother-in-law raised her eyebrow, or that her sister looked satisfied. Zach stood there, stoic as always, and Joel's brows furrowed, torn between Dominic and Maiel. Joel was the only one, other than his sister, who treated humans as equals. Well, that was until tonight. Dominic sighed. He sank more deeply into the couch.
"I didn't mean that. We had a fight and I'm still angry," Dominic said, expressing the apology he wanted to hear from his wife.
"We forgave you long ago. And none of us blame you for your guardian's vices," Joel said. "Forgive us if we worry over her, but it's not something to take idly when one of our ranks goes into the Pit of Acheron from a Samsaran incarnation."
"None of my doing," Dominic said, though they believed it was. He stammered on, "The alders laid out that plan. Your sister chose to stray from it."
"You weren't meant to die like that. My khata was beside herself to find a way to make something right that couldn't be righted. It was the demons that forced her hand. Not you and not her. What else was she to do under such torment?"
"We could've protected her until it was time," Dominic insisted coldly.
"She was going to be lobotomized-that man would have continued to rape her," Joel said, confused that Dominic would suggest she remain in such a place.
Joel pulled the cord of the lamp on the table next to him. He eyed Dominic a moment, then sat opposite him, using the table as a stool. He passed the infant girl back to her father. Dominic quickly found himself confessing, unable to hold the truth back from those who loved her as much as he did. It was something in his daughter's eyes.
He told them everything Maiel had said, from blaming him for his laziness to pointing her finger at the council for denying her the help of the outposts. He waited for their finger pointing. The room was quiet for some time. His eyes slowly glided to the stairs. His eldest sat with legs dangling between the spindles. White-knuckled fists held tight to the banister over his head. He stared at his father with glowing green eyes in the shadows of the staircase. His son was scowling at him, a look Dominic realized he needed to get used to as the boy matured. Still, it was the first finger pointed at him and not from whom he expected. His eyes slipped to the floor. Ian had always been his cheerleader. He was a typical teenager now, and perhaps too old to believe in him anymore.
Zach relinquished Metiel to his father. Dominic cradled the infants, looking at their peaceful faces. Their small wings poked out, barely big enough to even be called wings, except that they had feathers and they used them to their advantage. He remembered when his first was born and he saw the naked appendages on his back. He thought something was wrong, so unfamiliar with his wife's kind at that age. His only experiences were with the adults, who neatly folded their wings on their back like the folds of a cloak. It looked so natural you'd forget they were there. Maiel had been so amused by his reaction. Exhausted from giving birth, she fell asleep laughing to herself. He softly smiled, watching the twins fight to hold their eyes open. They held onto each other tightly.
"Are you all right?" his mother-in-law asked.
Alex did, in fact, care, if only for her daughter's sake. Dominic shook his head and realized he was smiling like a fool while tears slid down his cheeks. He was not. He'd failed his ketu and himself. Her words weren't about his race. They were about him. No matter how hard he tried, it felt as though he had made no progress. Every time he was thrust into a life, he had no recollection of his purpose and floundered in the ecstasy of every sensation. It was like he had been drugged, as if the alders purposely dulled his wits to make a mockery of him. He stopped fighting or wondering why they dangled destiny before him when they never meant to follow through. Their ketu, the whole thing, probably offended them so deeply they couldn't help themselves. He knew how Zach and their aunt felt. He guessed the others merely tolerated him as the incidental father of the ardhodita children.
"Crying?" Joel scoffed. "Did she pull your hair and break your dolly? Did she forbid you to go out and play with your little friend?"
Dominic glared at him, but Joel only smiled back. Dominic wondered how the smart-mouthed twin's wife could stand him.
"Wipe your face and go get your wife," Joel said. "She's not that prickly that you can't get your hands around her. There are about seven reasons I can point out to prove that."
"Yes. Fetch her back here, like a good lad," Aunt Magiel nosed in.
Dominic bit his tongue before he sarcastically asked for a cookie or if he should show her the new trick he'd learned. He passed his children to Joel and got to his feet. Zach watched him closely, assessing each move to find something new with which to accuse him. Dominic wished the engel would speak and let him have it. Despite preferring his silence to his brother's sarcasm, he hated wondering what jagged quip Zach would toss at him next.
"Dominic," his mother-in-law said as he stepped out of the room. She stood by the archway and he faced her. She put a hand on his shoulder, and continued, "I often forget Maiel's human qualities. It's good to have you about. After all, it was your voice that broke the prison. You truly are a wonder. You'll make a remarkable duta someday. I just hope you'll rethink becoming Joel's milite again. It'd prove a waste of your talent. You should be a muse and inspire others, spread beauty. You do truly remarkable work with your painting-the newest is quite something."
Alex smiled and patted his arm. Dominic eyed her, suspicious of all her words. She leapt from the subject of Maiel's sojourn in Jahannam to his paintings as if discussing tea cakes. He gave her a nod, but her step back and doubtful expression told him his features betrayed his heart.
Dominic left them and escaped through a back door in the kitchen. He crossed the garden out into a field beyond the hedge and disappeared on a worn path that wound into the wood. With any luck, the way would not be blocked by the endless khajala. Maiel was an expert at confounding him in more ways than one.
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