David Coe - His Father's eyes

“You want us to keep her from fighting against you.”

“Exactly. You wouldn’t be acting on our world so much as preventing her from doing so.”

He gave a slow shake of his head. “I do not know, Ohanko. We are not to interfere, even if others possessing powers similar to ours do. I do not know if others of my kind will agree to your request.”

“Then you’ve already decided,” I said. “The runemystes believe that following the Runeclave’s directive not to interfere is more important than combatting dark magic.”

“I did not say that.”

“Your actions say it. If the dark sorcerers have Saorla on their side, and she’s able to do as she wants with us, I’m dead, and so are any who fight beside me. But it’s up to you, Namid-you and the rest of the runemystes. If you’re determined to stop the spread of dark magic in my world and, oh-by-the-way, if you’re also determined to prevent further attacks on members of your little circle, you’ll help us in this one way. If not . . .” I shrugged. “Well, I’m going to fight anyway.”

He stared at me for a long time. I didn’t know if I had ticked him off, and I sure wasn’t sorry if I had.

“I will speak with the others,” he finally said. “Be well.”

I watched him evaporate into the desert air. Then I got back in the car and drove the rest of the way out to my father’s trailer.

Sunlight angled across the desert, casting long, twisting shadows from the bases of saguaro cacti and bathing the sand and sagebrush in gold. I pulled up near the trailer, my eyes on my dad, who was slumped in his chair as usual. He didn’t appear to be twitching anymore, but there was an empty, dirty cereal bowl at his feet, and he wasn’t wearing socks. He certainly wasn’t at his best. I opened the car door.

Upon stepping out of the car onto the dirt and gravel drive, I felt the pull of the moon again, even more forcefully than before. My thoughts seemed to fragment and for a moment I just stood there, one hand on the door, the other braced on the roof of the Lexus. I couldn’t remember what I’d been about to do.

But the phasing hadn’t started quite yet, and after a few seconds I was able to clear my head enough to recall where I was and why I had come. I did a quick survey of the land around my father’s place and saw nothing. That was what I had hoped for, and also what I expected. Still, I knew a moment of relief.

I shut the door and walked to where my dad sat, feeling a little unsteady on my feet. I kissed his forehead, drawing his gaze, which was clouded, unfocused.

“How are you doing, Pop?”

“Justis?”

“Yeah.” I pulled out the extra chair, unfolded it, and sat. “Are you feeling all right?”

He rubbed a hand over his face and then ran both hands through his thin hair. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not . . . I’m better, I think.” He eyed me again. “What are you doing here?”

“Long story.”

He glanced at the bandage on my wrist. “What happened?”

“Another long story.”

He nodded rather than pursue either question. “I feel the moon. What day is it?”

“The phasing begins in less than two hours.”

“Crap,” he whispered, reminding me of me. “Why are you here? Do you usually come for the phasings?”

“No, but this month is different.”

“Different how?”

Another long story, but this one I couldn’t keep from him.

“Do you remember the pain you’ve been experiencing the last few weeks?”

“Pain? I . . .” He stopped, pressed his lips into a hard line and dipped his chin. “The burning,” he said. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Dark magic. You’ve been under attack from what Namid calls necromancers.”

“Namid.” He sat up straighter. “He was here. In fact, you were with him.”

“That’s right.”

“And these necromancers . . .”

“They’re like runemystes. Their powers are similar, but they weren’t created by the Runeclave. They bought their power and their immortality with blood magic.”

“And they were hurting me to get at you.”

I nodded. “I’m sorry. They wanted to learn about our wardings, our defenses, so that they could then use me to kill Namid.”

His forehead creased. “Kill Namid? That’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not. And at some point I’ll explain to you how they intended to do it. But what matters now is that at least one of them is coming here, along with some weremystes who have been helping them. They threatened to hurt you again, and I’m here to make sure they don’t. But ultimately what they want is a fight, some would say a war. And this is going to be the first real battle.”

He smiled at that. “I’m not a praying man, Justis, and I haven’t been to church in about a hundred years. But even I know that the first battle in this fight was fought a long, long time ago. This is the latest incarnation of the same damn war.”

I lifted a shoulder, conceding the point.

“So you and I are going to fight side by side, huh? I always dreamed of that.”

I grinned. “So did I. But no. You’re going to stay in the trailer.”

“The hell I am.”

“Dad-”

“Justis.”

I winced and stared out over the desert. A pair of ravens swooped and soared over the first line of hills, jet black against a deep blue sky. “I feel bad saying this, but on your best day you’re not the sanest guy I know. We’re right on the cusp of the phasing, and this is not going to be your best day. I can’t be worrying about you at the same time I’m fighting off a bunch of dark sorcerers.”

“Then don’t worry,” he said, the stern tone taking me back to my childhood.

I opened my mouth to say more, but closed it again. Patty Hesslan-Fine would be coming; I was as certain of that as I was of anything I’d told him. I didn’t know how he would respond to hearing her name, much less seeing her in the flesh.

“Left you speechless, eh?”

“Tell you what,” I said, standing. “Let’s get you some food and a change of clothes and we’ll work from there.”

“You humoring me?”

“No, sir. I’m trying to see how capable you are today. If you’re a danger to yourself or to me, I’ll lock you in the goddamned bathroom. If you’re all right, we sure as hell could use the help.”

He pushed himself out of his seat and stared me right in the eye. We were about the same height, and his eyes were so much like mine it was like gazing into the mirror.

“God, you look like your mother,” he whispered.

“Except for my eyes.”

“Right. Except for them.” He broke eye contact, glancing back toward the city. “I’ll eat,” he said. “And I’ll put on a fucking tie and jacket if you want me to. But if you try to lock me away, I’ll tear this place apart.”

“It’s your trailer,” I said. “I’ve got a place to sleep tonight.” A lie, but that was not a conversation I wanted to have at the moment.

He smiled. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

I followed him into the trailer, pausing on the threshold to check back over my shoulder. I still saw nothing on his land; I hoped that was a good sign.

He changed clothes, which meant putting on a clean T-shirt and jeans. He even put on socks. In the meantime, I fixed us both sandwiches and poured a couple of glasses of orange juice. I hadn’t eaten since leaving the hospital that morning, which may have been why the moon was already affecting me so powerfully. I felt better after I’d downed my sandwich.

After he finished his, I cleaned up and turned to face him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Muddled,” he said. “The way I always do right before a phasing. And you’d be lying if you told me you weren’t feeling the same.”