Gathering Storm (36 page)

It was midmorning before medical
cleared Z Team to leave the infirmary. Raif pushed through the
clinic’s swinging doors ahead of the others.

“
Hey. Where you
goin’?” Gunnar asked.

Raif stopped and
turned. Everything about his body language said he was unhappy and
exasperated, but determined. He glared at Torn. “Speed
dating.”

“
Speed
dating?”

Raif continued
to glare at Torn. “Made a bet with unknown consequence with that
douche disguised as an elf. If I’m late, he’ll come up with
something equally fucked up. So I’m going.”

He turned and walked off.

Torn laughed.
“You’re a mess, man. Do you no’ think you might shower first?
Change clothes? You’re goin’ off half-cocked lookin’ like the
dregs.”

“I may look like
dregs, but I’m going with a full cock.”
To be sure that Torn got the full measure of that point,
Raif walked off giving him an air finger without looking
back.

CHAPTER
27

Jefferson Unit
was wrecked, at least the commons. With the exception of a couple
of stretches of hallways, living quarters had survived
untouched.
Baka, having a wide
range of intellectual interests including architecture, engineering
and explosives, was duly impressed that the entire building hadn’t
imploded given the locations and numbers of C9 detonations. On his
tour of the damage, he could frequently be heard muttering
something around the word “amateurs”.

The Order routed
every maintenance and construction employee who could be spared to
the New Jersey facility. They began
arriving by early afternoon. Within hours materials were being
delivered and the symphony made by clean up and construction
created a combination of sounds that were strangely comforting to
the residents experiencing emotional aftermath from having their
previously thought to be secure home invaded.

After her
reconstructive surgery, Elora was released to her family quarters.
She’d always said she’d logged enough days in that infirmary to
last several lifetimes.

On the
inside of their apartment, the elves
could almost pretend that everything was normal. They had Storm and
Litha to dinner the first night Elora was home. Ram cooked Guinness
beef stew from the Irish Pub cookbook and beamed when the other
three asked for seconds and then practically licked their
plates.

Storm
looked around when he heard strains of
“Somewhere Over The Rainbow”. He finally identified the sound as
coming from his own pocket. He retrieved his phone and looked at
Litha. “Did you change my ring tone?”

“
No, but I can
guess who did. There’s only one demon we know who makes sport of
changing other people’s ring tones.”

“
I don’t think
it’s funny.”

“
Neither do
I.”

Storm glanced at
the call info and saw that it was Glen. He rose as he answered to
politely put some distance between himself and the dinner table.
“Hello.” He listened for a minute, then turned to the others. “Is
it okay if Glen and Rosie come up for a minute?”

Elora chuffed.
“Like they
have to
ask.”

“
Come
on.”

A few minutes
later, Ram opened the door to find Glen looking a little wan and a
lot shell shocked.

“
What’s wrong,
Glen?”

“
Sol.”

Ram stepped
aside and motioned them in. Rosie followed Glen, not looking much
happier.

Once they were inside, Ram closed
the door and said, “Tell it.”

Everyone was
standing except for Elora. Instinctively, Litha took a step closer
to Storm’s side.

“
He
died.”

Litha had reached over to put her
hand on Storm’s arm and felt that every muscle in his body had gone
rigid. He stared straight ahead at Glen, but said nothing. His jaw
was probably locked down too tight to speak.

Ram looked at Storm and then
quietly asked Glen, “How?”

“It was their
last day before they were coming back. They rented a dune buggy at
the cape. I guess it turned over and pinned him. She wasn’t hurt,
but it severed one of his legs. He bled out before help could get
there.”

Elora reached
for Rammel’s hand to hold onto.

A thousand things
ran through Storm’s mind as he stood there
trying to make sense of those words, everyone processing
their own unique grief, no one knowing what – if anything – to
say.

He thought about
the first time he’d ever seen Sol a
nd the car ride from his parents’ house to a new life that had
been an adventure few could imagine. He thought about the last time
he’d seen Sol and wondered if he would have acted differently if
he’d known it was going to be the last time. He wondered if Sol
knew how Storm felt about him. For that matter, Storm wondered if
he had recognized how he’d felt about Sol before that very
moment.

Mostly he thought
about the conclusion
s of the
study Aelsong had worked on. It appeared that everything about his
life was identical to Angel’s right up until the day, when they
were both fourteen, that they had been called to the principal’s
office of their respective realities. When Storm reached the
principal’s office in his dimension, Sol had been waiting there to
recruit him. What had been waiting for Angel was expulsion from
school.

The inescapable
conclusion Storm drew from that was that the course of his entire
life came down to that pivotal moment and that he owed every good
thing that had happened to him since to one factor - Solomon
Nemamiah, who was in the right place at the right time.

It seemed strange
to think that so much could ride on such a small turn of fate, but
that one thing had propelled Storm into a knighthood and sent Angel
careening off into a
series of
wrong turns that dead ended into a wasted life.

Glen said, “I’m going to go call
Simon. He’ll need to contact the Council to appoint an interim
Sovereign until a replacement can be found.”

Storm blinked
rapidly and tried to unclench his teeth enough to get out one
sentence. He looked at Glen. “You and I both know there’s no such
thing as a replacement for him. Don’t we?”

Glen nodded and left quietly.

A representative
from The Order offered a choice of resting places for Sol, but
Farnsworth wanted his body to be
buried nearby because he’d spent so much of his life at
Jefferson and because, regardless of appearances, she insisted he
loved that job. Naturally every knight he had recruited or
supervised wanted to attend the service so they delayed it for two
weeks to make that possible.

Since so
m
any knights were going to be on
hand for the funeral, Elora volunteered to organize an honors
ceremony the following day. She had time because she wasn’t going
to be able to return to teaching until her shoulder and face were
completely healed. And she wanted to do it.

She consulted
with Simon on several ideas that required permissions from The
Council. He was an excellent contact, but moreover, he and Sol had
served
a tour of duty together
as knights when they were in their twenties and that was a
surprise. While she was occupied with those plans, Rammel was busy
doing his own bit of organization unbeknownst to her.

Five days after
being admitted to the hospital, Angel was released. Rosie took him
to the vineyard through the passes, but went as slowly as she
could. He spent the next five
days recovering there.

Sitting on the side of his bed in
the guest room he looked around one last time. He had a satchel of
mementos, mostly things to remind him of watching Rosie grow
up.

She came to the door and knocked
softly. “You ready?”

He didn’t think he would ever be
ready, but decided there was nothing to do but man-up and say,
“Yes.”

Angel followed Rosie to the
kitchen where Litha and Storm were waiting. He hadn’t seen much of
Storm since he’d been Whistered away because Storm had been busy
helping Glen administrate the Unit and oversee cleanup and
rebuilding.

“
The Great
Storm.”

“
It is,” Storm
replied. “Although people don’t acknowledge that nearly often
enough.”

Angel smirked. “You’d be
surprised.” He glanced at Litha. “Is this the big speech?”

“
Which speech did
you have in mind?” Storm asked.

“
The one where
you say this dimension isn’t big enough for the two of
us.”

Storm smiled.
“Something like that. I have two things for you.”

“
What?”

“Y
ou owe some ugly thing
named Shade money?”

“Yes.” Angel’s
eyes cut away from Litha and Rosie. There wasn’t any part of him
that was proud of who he’d been and he’d rather they didn’t know
much about it. But sometime during his sessions with Aelsong that
were so wretchedly uncomfortable, he’d learned there was beauty in
telling the truth even when it revealed him for the loser he was
and he even began to take a sort of perverse pride in
it.

“
How
much?”

“
Fifty
thousand.”

Storm set a
leather bag down on the table and it clunked
. “There’s enough gold in there to cover that and
start over. Can I count on you, knight to knight, to pay your debt
with it?”

Angel hesitated and looked
puzzled, but nodded.

“
Good. Here’s the
other thing.”

Storm handed
Angel a letter written on heavy paper.

“
What is
this?”

“Take your pick.
It’s either righting a wrong or better late than never or my
tribute to Sol. If you decide you’re meant for a different life,
Deliverance will take you to the Headquarters of Black Swan in
Edinburgh, Scotia. Walk in and ask to speak with the director. If
you give him that letter, I’m betting they’ll have something for
you – something besides a tracker named Litha.” He smiled at his
wife and she returned that smile with a warmth that made Angel’s
stomach ache.

He
opened the letter and began to read a
concise and factual account of the fact that he’d been mistakenly
kidnapped from his dimension of origin and coerced into
impersonating Sir Storm. The second page was so shocking it made
his jaw go slack. It was a letter of recommendation.

To Simon Tvelgar
or Whomever Currently Serves as Headquarters Director:

We, the
undersigned, petition for invocation of the ancient and honorable
Rule of Gathering so that the chivalric title of knight, with its
responsibilities and privileges, may be bestowed upon the presenter
of this document, Angel Wolfram Storm, by merit of deed. We, the
undersigned, vouch that he has been trained in the exigency of the
knighthood and that he has proven its qualities admirably, as
witnessed in his performance of duty when engaged by an enemy of
Black Swan, and that he has been found deserving.

The following names and titles
were typed. Underneath each was a respective signature.

Glendennon Catch, Acting Sovereign
in the stead of Solomon Nemamiah, Jefferson Unit

Sir Engel
Beowulf Storm, Knight of the Black Swan, Emeritus

Sir Chaos
Caelian, Knight of the Black Swan, Emeritus

Sir Rammel
Aelshelm Hawking, Knight of the Black Swan, Emeritus

Lady Elora
Laiken, Knight of the Black Swan, Emeritus, Combat Instructor
Jefferson Unit, Active

Sir Dirk Ales Fennimore, Knight of
the Black Swan, Active

Litha Liberty
Brandywine, Senior Tracker, Arcane Division First Class

His mind was swimming with the
possibilities. Yes. He wanted a new life. He was going back, but he
wasn’t going back the same person.

“
What do you want
to do?” Litha asked quietly.

Angel looked up.
“I just promised your husband I would use this gift to pay a debt.
Then I’d like to be dropped off at Black Swan in Edinburgh.” He
looked at Storm. “With my letter.” His gaze returned to Litha.
“Maybe there’s someone like you. There.”

Litha smiled at
Angel, then beamed at Storm
.
“Maybe. And perhaps you won’t need to do more than walk through the
front door.”

Angel turned to
Rosie
. “You think you might
visit now and then. Maybe let me know how everyone is doing?” He
glanced at Litha when he said the word “everyone” and no one in the
room missed it.

“I’m
keepi
ng tabs on you from now on.
Making sure you behave.” Rosie smiled and gave him a hug around the
middle and assured him that she would not lose touch while Litha
called Deliverance.

When the demon arrived she said,
“Be sure you put him back where he goes, Dad. No excuses.”

Deliverance rolled his eyes like a
thirteen-year-old. “Alright. Alright. I got it. Sheesh.”

“
He needs to run
a quick errand and pay a bill before he goes to Charlotte
Square.”