Ariock could see that whatever Thomas was about to say, it was a difficult admission. “I, um…” He spoke in a small, apologetic, somewhat squeaky voice. “I have a small memory leak.”

The cigarette fell out of Garrett’s hand and smoldered on the floor.

Thomas hurried to explain. “It’s remotely possible that I had holes in my memory before, and never noticed.”

Ariock noted Thomas’s avoidance of precision. The likelihood that his memory had always been flawed was probably something like 0.0001 percent, and he just didn’t want to say so.

Garrett must have noticed, as well. Clouds rolled over the mountain peaks. A chill wind blew across the tower top aerie, with its open archways.

Ariock prepared to reverse a storm.

“We can’t let this become public knowledge.” Thomas shifted his gaze to Garrett. “The only reason I’m telling you is because you made it a command. You demanded that I report the results to you as soon as I knew.”

Garrett popped out of his chair and began to pace furiously, his face apoplectic. “A memory leak!?” He punctuated each accusation by pointing. “You said you would be fine! Evenjos told us there would be no brain damage!”

Evenjos sat with her legs crossed, cool and unruffled. “I said there were likely to be changes. An intense rejuvenation like that has consequences.” She glanced at Thomas, and looked slightly ashamed. “I am sorry. We did our best.”

“I know.” Thomas gave her a fond, friendly look. “I appreciate what you did for me. I have no regrets.”

“But he’s damaged!” Garrett said explosively. “Don’t you get it?” He flung a pointing finger at Thomas. “You made him handicapped!”

Thomas recoiled as if Garrett had struck a nerve.

Ariock assessed Thomas, who looked as healthy as any teenage boy. He was fourteen now—Vy had arranged a small celebration for his birthday a couple of months ago. He kept outwitting the enemy super-geniuses. His intelligence remained extraordinary and sharp, and anyone who thought otherwise was being unfair.

“Garrett.” Ariock pushed his pointing hand down. “He’s fine, I’m sure. Whatever the problem is, it’s minor.”

“Pretty minor,” Thomas assured them. “It’s a few skipped moments, plus occasional gaps in my thirdhand perceptual data. I wouldn’t have even noticed if not for the background subroutine you had me run. It’s the sort of trivial background noise that ordinary minds filter out.” He looked eager to reassure Ariock, especially. “I still have a phenomenal memory. It’s just a little…” He hunched his shoulders defensively. “Suboptimal, compared to the other super-geniuses.”

“Great.” Garrett looked as dark as the stormy sky outside.

“It’s no big deal.” Ariock made his deep voice soothing, trying to calm his great-grandfather.

“Right. And it can’t be fixed, in any event.” Thomas seemed ashamed. “We just ought to make sure the Torth don’t find out.”

“Crap.” Garrett paced. “I’ll have to cut back my security sweeps in the Megacosm. I won’t be able to spy on them as effectively.”

Ariock felt lost. “Why not?”

“Because I’m vulnerable to mind probes!” Garrett said impatiently. “I don’t have a freaky mega-brain. They can get into my secrets if I stick around for too long at any given time. I normally do a sweep right after a conquest, before we’ve decided on our next target. That way, the Torth can’t glean much from me.” He paced, muttering. “This will be difficult to hide.” He glared at Thomas. “You shouldn’t have told me, boy!”

Thomas glared back. “Maybe you should think through the implications of the orders you give me.”

Garrett glared harder. “You’d better take over some of my security duties in the Megacosm.”

“I don’t have time to—”

Garrett snorted. “What else are you doing?” He swept a gesture around the big room. “Building your own private gym? Oh. And playing with that beast.” He pointed.

Outside, Azhdarchidae winged towards them, looking more like a dragon than a crocodile, with his huge leathery wings. He looked legendary.

“Do you really need a pet?” Garrett said.

Thomas glared with defiant outrage, and Ariock agreed with him. What was wrong with having someone, or something, to care about?

The Alashani warriors were smart enough to account for love. They encouraged their warriors to care about families and friends. Love was sensible. Ariock didn’t know how sane he’d feel without Vy.

“I do plenty that you don’t see,” Thomas said coldly. “Planning battles takes time, if you want to keep winning. The Torth adapt to every strategy I come up with, you know. I have to constantly reanalyze and reinvent our approaches. Oh, and outthink their super-geniuses. It’s not as easy as I make it look.”

“Yet you still find time to play games.” Garrett was so furious, electricity snapped along his body in white jags and arcs. “I think we can cut one of your past-times from your busy schedule. If I have to decide for you? I will.”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

He stalked towards the wrap-around balcony.

“No!” Thomas cried. “Don’t you dare!”

Ariock stood. Judging by Thomas’s anguish, he must have picked up an unpleasant promise from Garrett’s mind.

Would the old man actually attack Azhdarchidae? It seemed impossible to believe. The sky croc was just an innocent animal.

“If you hurt him,” Thomas said, “you’ll regret it.”

Garrett whirled around, his mantle swinging like a cape. “Is that a threat?” Electricity crackled. “You’re crossing a line, boy.”

But it was Garrett who had crossed a line.

In a state of complete disbelief, Ariock rippled out his awareness and seized Garrett. He used his power to slam the armored warrior against the rough-hewn central wall, pinning him well above the ground.

Garrett flexed with his powers, trying to escape.

There was a time when a warrior as strong as Garrett could have broken free from Ariock’s grip. But Ariock was no longer unpracticed. He killed Servants of All on a daily basis. He faced as many as ten Servants at once, at their peak power, all of them choreographed by some distant super-genius. He regularly walked into places where Rosy Ranks surprise-attacked him. In battle, his reflexes were honed to the level of pure instinct.

“Thomas will keep his pet,” Ariock said.

Garrett struggled, glaring in defiance.

“I’m done with you bullying him,” Ariock said. “We’re supposed to be allies. I need you to act like it. If you’re going to keep threatening him? Then I don’t need you around.”

Garrett drooped in Ariock’s invisible grip. He looked shocked that his own great-grandson would dare stand against him.

“You can leave.” Ariock released the old man and let him drop to the floor.

He half-wondered if he was overreacting. What if Thomas had provoked Garrett in some silent, mind reader way? Had he missed some unspoken subtext?

Then he glanced at Thomas, and saw grim satisfaction. It wasn’t quite a look of smug victory, but Thomas was relieved. He had needed a friend to stand up for him.

Beyond Thomas’s gyroscope, the immense beast, Azhdarchidae, landed on the edge of the tower. He crawled over the balustrade, scales rippling, keeping one reptilian eye on the guests.

Ariock prepared an air shield. If the animal dared to attack, then he would meet with a surprise.

Azhdarchidae seemed to understand that he was underpowered in the present company. He slunk to his nest in the shadows, folded himself, and watched them all with orange eyes that glinted like gold.

Garrett used his powers to bring his staff into his waiting grasp. “Fine. Whatever.”

He stomped out of the room. A stormy breeze made book pages flutter.

Evenjos stood with a sigh of annoyance. She had a faint goddess glow, her feathers and hair rippling. “I suppose I will go and talk to him.”

She glided through the doorway and down the spiral ramp, following Garrett.

Ariock cupped a hand to his mouth and called, “Try to transform him into something other than a jerk!”

His voice echoed through the hollow center of the tower. If Garrett heard, he probably didn’t care. He was probably bursting with self-righteous indignation, plotting new ways to make the war even more terrible than it had to be.

Ariock turned to Thomas. He wanted to apologize for his great-grandfather, but any apology would be inadequate. Maybe even disingenuous. Why should he be responsible for Garrett’s mistakes?

He didn’t want to have to manage a prickly old man who was flawless in battle, yet who otherwise made all kinds of mistakes.

“Have a seat,” Thomas offered. “Please.”

Ariock realized that he was looming, like usual, blocking the light. He moved his oversize armchair closer to the gyroscope and sat. He clasped his big hands.

“I don’t understand Garrett,” he admitted.

Thomas listened with an empathetic look. Maybe he would have some advice to offer?

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” Once Ariock began to talk about the problem, it was as though a bottle got uncorked. Concerns, long bottled up, came pouring out. “He’s violent. He enjoys killing. It’s not just killing. He enjoys brutality. I see how he treats you. And it’s not just you. The warriors don’t like him. The soldiers don’t trust him.” Ariock clenched his fists. “He’s helpful in battles and I can’t do without him. But am I going to have to keep threatening him? Is that the only possible way to handle him?”

Thomas had a gentle look. “I can’t advise you on that.”

“I don’t want to fight him.” Ariock thumped his fist on the armrest, frustrated. “He’s my family. My only family. I just…” He met Thomas’s gaze, wondering if his friend might provide some helpful insights. “Do you think he’s a threat? To the war, I mean? Is he dangerous, to the point where I should send him away?”

Thomas seemed to consider the question carefully.

Then he spoke. “Garrett is the Will in the prophecies. He wasn’t lying about that. We’re going to need him in order to win this war.”

Ariock slumped. He wanted a better answer. An easier path.

“It may help if you get to know him better,” Thomas said. “He doesn’t like feeling like he’s not in control, and there are reasons for that. We both trigger his insecurities.”

Ariock mulled that over.

“He can’t control either of us,” Thomas said. “And that really bothers him.”

The old man did seem to like controlling and manipulating others. He hoarded knowledge. He lied in order to make himself seem heroic.

“He claims that he killed his father,” Ariock said. That was one claim that bothered him. Garrett tended to bluster and exaggerate his own heroic deeds, but patricide? That wasn’t exactly a thing to brag about.

“Is that true?” Ariock wanted to learn something about Garrett, something that would shed light on why he was such an overbearing jerk. “Did he kill his father when he was six years old?”

“It’s somewhat true,” Thomas said. “His father did die when he was six. And the death could be attributed to Jonathan Stead.”

“What happened?” Ariock leaned forward, genuinely curious. Maybe there was more to Garrett than bluster and bravado.

Thomas shook his head. “That’s not my secret to tell.”

“Did Garrett threaten you?” Ariock tried to stay small and tranquil. “Is he going to hurt you if you tell me?”

Thomas looked miserable with uncertainty. He seemed to be debating whether or not to reveal some fact.

“Ugh.” Ariock took a deep breath, forcing his awareness to retreat out of the stormy air. “I’ve given him way too much leeway.” If the old man wanted to threaten a child, then he did not belong on the side of the heroes. “Enough is enough. I’m going to have to give him an ultimatum.”

“Wait,” Thomas said, as Ariock moved to get up.

Ariock paused.

“Garrett didn’t threaten to punish me.” Thomas sounded reluctant, as if he was forcing himself to speak. “I’m just not comfortable with telling other people’s secrets. You’ll need to ask him yourself. I think you can get real answers that satisfy you, if you ask him the right questions.”

Ariock stared at Thomas in wonder. Did he actually feel sympathy for someone who bullied him without mercy?

“Garrett is a victim of the Torth, too,” Thomas said. “I’m not a fan of him, obviously. But I think it’s my duty to tell you that he’s emotionally scarred.”

“So are we all,” Ariock said without sympathy. Even the progenitors of the Torth had been victims. It did not excuse their present-day atrocities.

“I think he’s somewhat more scarred than you or I,” Thomas said carefully.

Ariock studied the boy. Was he saying that Garrett had suffered worse than being crucified for the whims of a Torth audience?

“Ask him about his father,” Thomas suggested. “But it would be a good idea to approach the subject with compassion.”