Abaddon's Call

Chapter Thirteen

Days of quiet were frightening and new for Graydon. He had been promptly kicked out of Theon's baby situation and fled as fast as he could.

Naena spent her usual time with Theon and did not comment on the babe's presence at all. If the students talked about it, they fell silent when a Seven walked past.

Some events were like that, especially if the reaction appeared personal.

Luk Pan showing up unadorned and supposedly frothing at the mouth anytime Trathor got too close while holding a bastard that existed in a legal grey area and should have technically been handed over because it was conceived while Theon was still a Mikent bastard was about the definition of what students and mages didn't gossip about if they wished to keep their tongues.

His father had avoided him. As the highest-ranking family member aside from his father, it was Graydon's job to look into the whole thing.

Like a smart man, he assigned it to AfPan, who had no problem finding his father.

The man had found Theon with little trouble—not that Graydon had told his father how he managed to find the war mage.

AfPan had no trouble filling out the report and filing the whole thing, but not before he received a signature from Lord Lugh saying that anyone who interfered would meet the dull edge of his blade.

The threat was a little excessive.

Mikent had no boys to trade to the Seven to have their way. The Seven all knew the boy would replace Trathor, eventually. He was Mikent.

It would be years before any decision was rendered on the babe or its slated status to be permanently banded. The status was little more than an ear marker in history, advising future generations that there may be a new quirk to the line.

The shield families had many such entries.

He spent his school hours researching how to call up a dead person and thought he made steady progress.

He wasn't sure he was any closer to calling someone up, but he knew he'd get there. His first meeting with Arcdon was to be the next morning, so he settled into bed early, meaning to get a good rest. Naena was in the workroom dabbling with gates and hellmouths when he went to bed.

The first step was creating a magical doorway, with no possibility of calling Hell in on them.

Naena could make a perfectly functioning gloryhole, even send it into Hell, but the problem was scaling that up. Graydon knew exactly what she was looking for, but the Seven only had one, and he didn't think the current owner would let them near enough to use it.

Let alone while dragging a second Salord along behind them to toss in.

Graydon had put himself to bed, drawing the currents to keep out sound and light. If anyone entered the room, he would be alerted. If Naena left, he would be alerted—and hadn't decided whether he would tell Naena that part. Sleep came easily and deeply in his bed.

Graydon was awakened sometime later when Naena put something cool and round in his hand. His hand clenched on instinct, and a glow lit up their room. He pressed his lips together and frowned at her.

She pressed her lips together until they disappeared entirely. Her cheeks puffed up just a little as Graydon tried to decide if she was trying not to laugh or because she was terrified of what she had done in the workroom.

"You woke me for an experiment the night before I'm meeting my mentor for the first, official time?" Graydon asked. "Really?"

"It's a full moon," she said with a grin.