Since I know Sheldon is going to want to yell at me about seeing Erra, I readily agree to let Chiaki approach him to discuss a joint meeting at the safe house. In the meantime, I’ll try contacting Brianna so she and Castillo can be in on the plan. I’d go directly to Castillo’s place, but I highly doubt he’s going to be there right now. He strikes me as the type of person who rarely has down time; too many enemies, too many enterprises to run, too many schemes to avoid detection by law enforcement.
I go to my office to call Brianna, pulling out my mobile and hoping she hasn’t changed her number since we worked together against Elena. It rings a few times and I’m about to curse my bad luck when the line connects and I hear her voice on the other end.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me,” I reply. “Riley.”
“Oh! Hey, what’s up?”
“Wait, did you erase my number?” I ask.
“Was I not supposed to?”
“Never mind. Chiaki and I have some new information that we wanted to share with everyone. Can you and your boss meet us at the safe house?”
“When?”
“Soon…ish?”
“Why didn’t you call me when you had an exact time? Dumbass.”
“I’m trying to avoid Sheldon,” I admit.
“Fucked up again, huh?” she asks, and I can just picture her amused smirk.
“You know me,” I sigh. “Causing disasters left and right.”
“Yeah, but it’s endearing,” she chuckles. “Call me back when you know the where and the when. If Castillo can’t make it, then I’ll make sure I can at least.”
“Thanks.”
The call didn’t last nearly as long as I wanted it to, and while I’m keen on avoiding Sheldon, I’m also antsy about following up on what we learned in the Archives. With that in mind, I prepare myself to be verbally torn asunder and leave my office. I don’t go directly to Sheldon’s, however, and investigate Chiaki’s instead to see if she’s there. When I see the figure at the desk, I blow a sigh of relief and head inside.
“Good, you’re here. Mr. Sheldon has agreed to communicating with our allies to have another council at the safe house. He does…wish to speak to you privately, so I suggest you report in,” Chiaki greets me with business as usual as soon as I walk in. She hasn’t looked up from the paperwork she’s going over until after her spiel, and now that she observes me, her expression shifts. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” I reply, even if I feel like I’m about to face an executioner. “So, that’s good news. Hopefully they’ll get back to him on when soon. Brianna’s agreed to come too, and she’ll check in with Castillo after we get the date and location of the safe house.”
“I think this will be a chance to make a lot of progress,” Chiaki says.
“I think you’re right,” I feel emboldened by her positivity on the matter, and let myself focus on that instead. At least we have a direction to follow, and with the likes of our ancient allies, the means to follow it down the right path.
“Is Agent Clement still here?” I ask. “I really don’t want to bump into her again.”
“I believe she’s off to check in with the regional offices.”
I mentally tally how much time that will take. She’ll likely head west to Worcester first, and then all the way out to North Adams and finally back east to stop by Hyannis before returning to Boston. It could be done in a day, but it’s at least 12 hours without needing to worry about her walking back into HQ. Since I don’t want there to be even a slight chance for Clement to join in on Sheldon’s reaming, I depart from Chiaki’s office and head to the elevator to go back to the top floor without more delays. I feel like I’m spending way too much time up here lately.
Sheldon’s door is open already, and I grimace as I walk down the hall to step into his office. He looks up at me with his piercing green eyes, and I focus on taking deep, even breaths.
“I ought to have you incarcerated,” he says immediately.
I say nothing, deciding silence is safer unless he asks me a question directly.
“But I do not think doing so would teach you anything. You are unteachable, Averline. And for whatever good you have done for the Order over the years, it has left the impression you are immune to scrutiny. I will not stand up for you when the Inquisition comes for their inquiry, and while you may think this a light sentence, trust me when I say you will wish I stripped you of your rank and suspended you indefinitely instead. As it stands, Chief Glass is on probation and will likely suffer Ms. Carver’s fate.”
Blood thunders in my ears and my hands shake slightly. I didn’t think he would try and get me out of the inquiry at all, so while I am afraid of what’s to come, I’m not surprised. I’m only enraged at Glass’s fate. Then again, he did warn me that this would happen if I stepped out of line. The argument I want to launch at Sheldon dies in my throat.
“Is there anything I can do to convince you not to fire Chief?”
“It is a little late to start considering others,” Sheldon sneers. “That you only do so after consequences says very much to your lack of discipline. After this council meeting, you will be taken off this case—”
“But—!”
“Silence!” he snaps. “What did you expect? You are too irrational to be trusted in this matter. Your naïve desire to save Stone puts everyone else at risk! But I tell you now, Averline, Stone is dead!”
I shake my head, wishing I could strike Sheldon down with my glare alone.
“Do you know how easy it would have been for Erra to break your mind and gain access to classified information that could cripple us? No, of course you did not consider that. You consider nothing beyond your selfish desires!”
“That isn’t fucking true!”
“Then how did your visit to Erra benefit anyone?” Sheldon demands.
“Well,” I hate that my voice shakes, but I can’t find it in me to control it. “If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have confirmed that you and Erra know each other and maybe Chiaki and I wouldn’t have thought to gain insight from those who were there when Erra first came around.”
Sheldon pales considerably, and his mouth twists into an ugly grimace. “Once again, you think you know everything.”
“No, I don’t,” I retort. “I don’t have any idea how you might know him, how it could be at all possible that you’re so old. I know those with magic live long lives, but not this long. Maybe if you had been upfront about things, I wouldn’t feel the need to dig out the answers on my own.”
“My history is inconsequential,” Sheldon says coldly. “As I wasn’t foolish enough to go rushing off to his penthouse, without any substantial plan of defense for myself or the Order.”
“I wonder if the council would think it’s inconsequential,” I glower.
“Continue pushing me, Averline, and you will not be permitted to attend the council and will never find out.”
“What are you so fucking afraid of?” I shout. “You expect us all to stay in line and not ask questions, not seek answers, while you keep everything so close to the goddamn chest! Of course some of us are going to try and find our own solutions!”
“Do not pin your ineptitude on me,” Sheldon replies. “And ask yourself instead how many of your fellow Centurions have broken laws as you do to find their own solutions.”
What bothers me the most is that I see his point. I accept that it’s my fault Chief Glass is in the shit, that it’s my fault I’m in the shit. We’ve carefully arranged this joint coalition with the Inquisition, the Fae Courts, the vampires, the werewolves and here I am going behind all of their backs because I’m adding a rescue on top of everything else. I accept it, but I do not regret it, because Henry is worth whatever I will have to face for my actions, and while deep down I know Henry would never agree, I’m certain that he’s worth whatever consequences anyone else will have to face too. I won’t take what Sheldon said about Henry to heart. I won’t accept that he’s dead. If he was…then I don’t think I’d still be here. Erra passed along his blight, it’ll take me eventually, but I can’t forget the surprise from Muir when Erra told me to leave. I think the bastard expected a bloody show instead, and couldn’t fathom the idea of Erra simply letting me go. Maybe I’m grasping at straws, but I’d rather keep to that hope than let the lurking darkness consume me completely.
And while I can do a lot even without the Order, I don’t think I’ll have enough without their resources.
“Excuse me,” I say carefully. “You’re right,” God I fucking hate having to tell him that. I hate that it’s true and not me just saying what I think he wants to hear. “I rush into shit, and I don’t consider what it might mean for everyone else. I let my emotions rule me in times when I should rely on logic. Whatever…your business with Erra might be, it doesn’t change the mistakes I’ve made.”
Sheldon says nothing, he only regards me coolly from where he sits. I sigh heavily, because what comes next is no easier than admitting what I just did.
“Please don’t take me off this case,” I continue. “I’ll reign it in, I promise. But I can still do a lot of good, those connections I have that you may not entirely approve of…they can benefit all of us.”
“You are probably the only reason the werewolves are with us,” Sheldon says after an awkward pause. “And your ties with the Head Archivist are valuable as well, hence my intervention with Agent Clement in the first place…” He leans back in his chair, suddenly looking exhausted. “I don’t believe you can help yourself. I have no faith that you will suddenly ‘turn it around.’ You’ve been reckless since the day you joined the Order.”
I’m about to argue, but he holds up a hand to stop me.
“As such, you will be permitted to stay on the case, but you will be relieved of all leadership roles. Ms Ito will take over on the Centurion side, and keep in mind if you attempt to manipulate her into letting you get away with anything out of bounds, then you will both be punished accordingly.”
He really has a terrible opinion of me. I’m almost certain he’s going to fire me once we deal with Erra. Maybe even before then.
“Get out of my sight,” he concludes. “I will let Ms Ito know when the next council will take place.”
I can’t stop thinking about Chief Glass as I slink back into my office. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to face him after what happened. I’m not sure I’ll be able to face any of the Centurions either. Glass has always been popular here, and while I can hope Chiaki will take over, I’m not certain that’s on Sheldon’s agenda.
I stare blindly at my desktop screen, giving up on getting any actual work done that afternoon as my brain takes a nosedive into negativity. I really have fucked things up this time, and everyone else is paying for it. Glass, Chiaki, maybe it extends as far as Henry too. How am I ever going to convince Sheldon to give me a chance to save him now? Those words tear through my thoughts again; Stone is dead! Echoing loudly while Erra’s cruel smile plays in high definition across my inward gaze.
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Every time fellow Centurions pass my office talking, I’m sure they’re talking about me and what I did to Glass. I want to convince myself that it’s a small reprieve to worry about what the gossip is rather than focusing on my thoughts, but it doesn’t last, and so I’m stuck in the horrible state of one or the other with no breaks in between. Time is agony as minutes creep by with all the agency of a slug and without hearing about the council, there’s nothing I can truly focus on. No small case comes in that can get me out of the office, no inter-department meeting, it’s just me waiting until my shift ends so I can get the fuck out of here and drown my misery in booze. That makes me feel more selfish than I already did, and I kick the underside of my desk in frustration.
Eventually, I find a new way to organize my desk’s contents that helps whittle away the time until I can finally call it a day and head home. I avoid catching anyone’s gaze as I head towards the elevator, and while I hoped stepping outside onto Beacon Street might alleviate my mood, it doesn’t have the effect I desired. Going home doesn’t sound appealing either, and while I consider going to Billy’s, I don’t think I have it in me to deal with Carver, who would probably agree with Sheldon on my recent performance. I need Henry.
But Henry isn’t here anymore.
I end up going home and locking myself away from the world. While I could argue it does me good, the truth is I just look at the obnoxious bangle around my wrist and ruminate about Erra. I convince myself I’m letting Henry down by staying in Boston, and that the only thing I should be doing is going to the penthouse to try and force Erra to the background so Henry has an actual chance. Then I remember those indifferent eyes, not Henry’s eyes, and the contempt I caught in Erra’s expression. It’s going to take more than pleading to solve this, and as much as I can espouse how much I love Henry and believe in him, this isn’t a fairy-tale.
A full 24-hours go by before my phone rings. I assume it’s going to be Chief Glass telling me I’m late for my shift, then I remember that Glass isn’t in charge anymore. I pick up the call and hear Chiaki’s voice on the other end telling me to “get to the following location within the hour,” before giving me the address. It must be the safe house. I can’t tell if she’s annoyed that I didn’t show up at headquarters, and frankly…I don’t give a damn right now.
I’m heading to Cambridge, to a house that’s nearby the Charles River and Harvard Business School. I get on the red line, silently bemoaning my fate because the train is packed and there’s 10 stops from here to Central. I should have brought headphones. Or alcohol. Since I have neither, I let my gaze glaze over and keep my grip on the support rod tight as the train consistently lurches with every stop and go. After nearly an hour of being jostled and bombarded by advertisements, I stumble off the train and into Central Station, following the throng of people up to the street. It’s another 10 minutes of walking to Hew Street, and then I come across the safe house.
It's a really nice place. Narrow, like my own, but a bright white with warm lighting inside. It’s three stories, and the yard is completely fenced in. I see a couple cars are parked nearby as I head up the walkway and ascend the stone stairs leading to the heavy entrance door. I’m just raising a hand to ring the bell when it opens to reveal Chiaki. I frown, looking from her to the overside casement window. “Were you hiding behind a curtain or…?”
“It’s a Glamor,” Chiaki replies.
Well, that tells me the Fae are here. When I step inside, however, I see the queens haven’t deigned to join us this time and their knights are here instead. Ulysses is also here from the Order, but I’m surprised by the lack of Sheldon’s chilling presence. Castillo also isn’t here, but Brianna is, and so is Bryn O’Ceallaigh. I also see the shaggy-haired vampire from the Dearden Coven, but no Willow. I suppose we can’t expect the heads of these factions to drop everything every time we call a council, but then it makes me wonder if they’re taking the whole Erra threat as seriously as I thought they would.
“Is anyone else coming?” I ask.
“Nope, we were waiting on you,” Brianna says pointedly, but the upwards nod of her head tells me she’s only teasing. I think.
“Well, I’m here now. Let’s get started.”
I want to ask about Sheldon, but I’m also glad he isn’t here. Ulysses has always been easier to talk to, and I don’t have to worry about getting yelled at in front of all these supernatural representatives. We all shuffle into the living room, which is adjacent to an open chef’s kitchen with a large island. Everything about this house is pristine, white walls and a warm, beachy hardwood floor, dark accents…it actually reminds me of a smaller version of Charlemagne’s mansion. I frown, wondering about him and his coven again as I take a seat on the sofa next to Brianna. There’s also some chic looking armchairs and a bench built into the wall, with a small fireplace set in the middle between two windows.
“So…” Ulysses begins once everyone is seated. “Why don’t you brief us on what you discovered, Centurions Ito and Averline?”
I glance towards Chiaki where she sits across from me, in one of the chairs. She stands up, taking point on the task, and explains our studies in the Archives and the conclusions we drew from it.
“They were never just stories,” Knight Diarmuid says after a moment’s silence while the group considers everything Chiaki explained. “The myths of the world…they were always more than just fiction.”
“So, you’re saying all these old-time gods were real?” I ask.
“Yes,” Diarmuid replies easily. “I was quite fond of Aranyani.”
“But…gods?”
“Don’t get hung up on the title,” Bryn suggests. “They were not human, this is true, but it’s obvious you are thinking too much of what the word connotates.”
“I am too then,” Shaggy vampire says. “Because you say god and I think creator or creators of the universe.”
“That is unlikely,” Orpheus chimes in. “But not impossible. Regardless, if it helps you to come to terms with it, these beings were simply a different sort of creature; just as there are vampires, werewolves, and Fae, so too are there…or were, these exceptionally powerful beings that came to be described as gods.”
“They all died out?” I ask.
“More or less,” Orpheus says.
“How?” Chiaki asks.
“We’ll be here forever if we try to cover the timeline of these beings,” Bryn sighs. “We must focus on Erra, and now on Hephaestus as well.”
“What if Hephaestus is dead too?” Brianna asks.
“He is not,” Bryn says matter-of-factly.
“How are you so sure?” the werewolf scoffs.
“Because I spent time with him a few years ago. He is my friend, though I didn’t know he was involved in all of this.”
“Your friend,” Ulysses sighs, and it’s unclear whether it is one of exasperation or relief. “Wonders never cease.”
“Isn’t this good news?” Probably Tristan asks. He scratches at his shaggy black hair. “I mean, can’t you call him and ask to meet us?”
“He is off-grid,” Bryn replies. “I could send him a letter, however…”
“Or we could go to him,” I say. “Where is he?”
“When I saw him, he was island hopping in the Caribbean.”
Brianna perks up from her seat a bit. “Now we’re talking. I’m so in if we’re going.”
“Must be nice,” Shaggy grumbles. “All you have to worry about is smelling like wet dog. I don’t even get to see all those nice blues unless I want to burst into flames.”
“Let’s not get into such things, Peter,” Ulysses admonishes.
I snort. “Your name is Peter?”
The vampire I assumed was a Tristan or Damien shrugs. “Yeah? Why?”
“Never mind,” I notice the warning look both Ulysses and Chiaki give me and decide not to continue the topic. “Would that work though? Us going to Hephaestus?” I ask Bryn.
“I don’t see why not,” Bryn muses. “He’s very hospitable, he doesn’t have reason to be hostile unless you give him one.”
Brianna now looks pointedly at everyone in the Order. I notice that Orpheus and Diarmuid seem to share her unspoken sentiment. Cerberus’s ill reputation is so great it’s uniting the Faerie Courts. Silver linings…
“What do you think, Incantator?” Chiaki asks, still all business. I suppose the looks wouldn’t affect her, she’s not part of the crowd that makes the supernatural community bitter.
“I think it is our best option. We cannot wait around for letters, and if Hephaestus is more or less welcoming of guests, there’s no reason why we can’t send a small group to ask for his help.”
“What, a small group of Centurions?” Brianna asks with a dark smirk. “No way.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Diarmuid adds. “The group should better represent our alliance.”
“You have my sword,” I say dramatically.
“Riley…” Ulysses groans.
“And my bow!” Peter exclaims.
“Stop,” Bryn orders, and while Peter is not in Bryn’s coven, he obviously doesn’t want to challenge the elder vampire and reins it in.
“I think it’s a good idea,” Chiaki says. “The question is who is going to go. Mr. O’Ceallaigh? It may ease the entire mission if you go, seeing as Hephaestus is your friend. However, I understand if coven duties would prevent you.”
“I’m needed here, I need to be near my coven,” Bryn replies. “I will write a letter before you leave, trust me when I say it will be enough to get you through the door.”
“Thank you. I think Riley would be a good choice to go,” Chiaki says before Ulysses can nominate someone else.
“I don’t know if Mr. Sheldon would agree with that,” he says anyway.
“I’m sure Mr. Sheldon wouldn’t be remiss to be rid of him for a little while,” she replies too quickly.
She has a point though, and God knows I would love the opportunity to avoid Sheldon as well.
“Fine,” the Senior Incantator says. “You’ll be responsible for his actions.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not going to fuck this up,” I say it more for myself than for anyone here. I need a win; I need to feel like there’s still some hope to all of this.
“I will attend as well,” Orpheus volunteers.
“I cannot,” Diarmuid says. “But I trust you’ll set up another council to brief us all on your endeavors.”
“Of course,” Ulysses replies.
“I’ll go,” Peter adds. “If my previous comment didn’t, uh, convey that already.”
“Count me in,” Brianna grins. “There’s a day at the beach waiting for me.”
“So, that settles it then, yes? Riley, Brianna, Peter, and Orpheus,” Ulysses sums up.
I look at the other three I’ll be traveling with. We’re going to make a very odd group of travelers. I’m hoping Orpheus will ditch the full armor, at least that way he’ll look like another Goth fan with Peter. Brianna’s brightly colored and fashionable clothes will make us all look shabby anyway, so I guess it doesn’t really matter.
“Are we going to have to use mundane travel?” I ask.
“Yes,” Diarmuid is the one who answers. “If we were to send you through magical means, or through the Fae paths, it may tip off the enemy.”
“I don’t know about you boys, but I’m going first class,” Brianna decides. “And if that’s everything…are we good to go?”
“I don’t see why not,” Chiaki replies.
“Stay a minute, Knight Orpheus,” Bryn requests. “I’ll leave the letter with you.”
“Very well,” the Fae looks indifferent to everything going on. Honestly, I’m surprised he volunteered at all, but I’m not complaining. The Unseelie are not to be trifled with, so I feel safer having him with us since we’re off to meet with a god.
Chiaki suggests I go home after the meeting, and that she’ll give me the flight details when it’s arranged. With Ulysses agreeing with the decision, I decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth and do just that. I don’t want to go back to headquarters, I don’t want to see the reactions from my fellow Centurions, because news about Chief Glass is sure to have spread by now. I’m dreading that moment where I have to deal with them, but at the same time, I’m using that stress to keep my focus off of Hephaestus and Erra. I don’t know how to deal with that, with the magnitude of that history and that power, so wondering how I’m going to deal with angry coworkers seems the safer thing for my mind right now.
I find it very difficult to sit still once I get back to my place, and I have half a mind to go to Billy’s apartment to see if I find relief there. I won’t though, I’ll have to explain everything to him and Carver. I will eventually, but I think it needs to happen after this trip south. Then it won’t seem so enormous because we’ll have met and spoken to Hephaestus and I can get everything into a more understandable context. I hope.
Feeling an imminent frenzy building, I quickly find a show with multiple seasons on Netflix and start binging it. When that doesn’t feel like it’s quite enough, I doom scroll my way through social media in the background. I’m not surprised to see Dylan’s Facebook status is back to single, but I don’t comment as much as my petty side wants to. I do smile when I see new photos of my nephew George. I tell myself I’ll make more of an effort with Camden when all of this is over. For now though, I just keep that smile to myself and half watch the drama unfolding on my TV screen. I’m able to zone out to the show and I eventually fall asleep on my couch. I wake up to the sound of my phone chiming, and grab it from the coffee table to read the text from Chiaki.
Details sent to your email. Have a safe trip.
I open the email app on my phone and while I had a brief hope it might be first class it wasn’t a very high hope. That’s just as well, because I’m in coach, but I’m happy to see I’m in the aisle seat and not at the ass end of the plane. It’s a direct flight to Nassau too, thank God, because I hate flying to begin with and layovers only increase my stress tenfold. There are also details for accommodations, an Airbnb townhome called Paradise Rising. Nice of them to spring for that instead of a cheap hotel. I’m leaving later tonight, and not wanting to deal with the potential hate from the Centurions, decide to take a chance and text Chiaki back asking if I can use the day to get ready for the trip.
Yes, that’s fine.
There’s nothing to read in the text to say she’s annoyed, but I assume she is anyway and curse the anxiety for assuring me everyone is probably talking about me while I’m gone. Let them if they’re going to, I have enough to worry about without inventing more problems anyway. I decide to focus my energies on more useful things, and I get up to get all my documents in order and pack. When that doesn’t take me long at all, I spend the rest of the day cleaning my house and working out some of my frustration that way.