Blood Redemption (Page 61)

Many vampires had known Rolfe, and they all came to the funeral to pay their last respects to the giant of a man. Wlodek gave some history on Rolfe before Aurelius delivered the final words, saying that Rolfe had come to him, already a vampire, from the wars that Alexander the Great waged against the Persian Empire. Greek in origin, like Wlodek, they’d often spoken in Greek together when no one else was around. Called Deimos, back then, he was a warrior for Alexander, his height making him visible from a distance in any battle. I’d never known those things about Rolfe and he’d never volunteered. It made me feel self-centered and selfish that I’d never asked him about his life.

"He would have steered you away from the subject of his life, even if you had asked him," Wlodek told me quietly afterward. Everyone had come back to the palace by hoverbus later, where the vampires were served real blood that I’d had shipped in for the occasion. It wasn’t something we did often, but it was done at times. The kitchen served food for the others. When the guests left us, I misted to the top of my palace to gaze over the city named after me. That’s where Griffin found me.

He didn’t try to sit anywhere near—he knew that wouldn’t be welcome. We remained silent for a very long time. Finally, he spoke. "Lissa, every selfish act comes with a price." I turned sharply to look at him. "No," he held up a hand, "it wasn’t your act of selfishness. It was mine. But the price wasn’t mine to pay. You remember that old phrase; the sins of the father are to be laid upon the children?"

"From The Merchant of Venice? I didn’t know you quoted Shakespeare." I was holding back most of my sarcasm.

"I don’t normally quote anyone, I’m too old for that," Griffin muttered. "But I think I’ve finally lived long enough to learn my lesson."

"And what lesson would that be?" I hoped there was a point in this somewhere; otherwise, I was being subjected to this for no reason. I hugged my arms around my knees.

"That adversity can build or destroy. Sometimes it can do both. I thought I was mighty, Lissa. I could see into the future. Change things here and there, to make it turn out better. And then the Nameless Ones and The Powers That Be named me Oracle, because of what I could do. But that was before I came back in time and snatched up my daughter, whose birth I’d manipulated, to perform one last mighty act in an effort to save the worlds. She didn’t fail us, my daughter. Handed over her life so those worlds could live. That was the day she surpassed her father. Became something that he holds no hope of ever being." Griffin shook his head.

"I should have left it at that and taken my lumps when the Green Fae decided to go against their teachings and snatch a child," he went on. "Who knows what Wyatt might become if they’d kept him? Perhaps Wylend would have destroyed them, turning from light to dark, as Karathians sometimes do." Griffin breathed a ragged sigh. "I might have kept Wyatt away from the ball altogether, allowing a different child to be taken. All those possibilities stretched out before me, each one ending in a tragedy for someone else, never for me. I chose the one for you, thinking it was the least harmful. But as you most likely have guessed, I did not examine the minute ripples that were sent out from that single event. Did not look to see these three deaths, or the six-hundred-million others. These are on my conscience now, Lissa."

"It’s so convenient for you to take responsibility for it now," I snapped. "When it’s over and hasn’t cost you a thing."

"Only those lives—and my daughter," he said before folding away.

* * *

"I know you wonder why I asked you here," I said. Thurlow and Aryn both sat inside my study. I was pacing behind my desk. I’d made a decision, now I’d see how it all turned out for the future. Aryn, especially, looked quite surprised that I’d called for him. He’d expected me to be holed up with my mates somewhere, grieving for Rolfe, Giff and Yoff. I was grieving. I’d just come to the realization how things really were.

"I have something for you," I said. "While it might not mean anything immediately, it may mean something for the long term. It is up to you how you approach things after this." I pulled two small boxes from a desk drawer. Each one bore a name. I handed them across the desk to Aryn and Thurlow. "Don’t betray me again," I said and misted away.

* * *

Thurlow opened his box first, finding the claw crown signet ring nestled on satin inside. Drawing in a breath, he lifted it out and settled it on his finger. It fit—Lissa had Looked to find his size. If she hadn’t, he could have used power to do it himself. She was telling him they had a future. He didn’t expect to fall into her bed immediately—that would take time. But it was a promise that someday he would spend a night with her, followed by many other nights. Thurlow, once Thorsten, was satisfied with that.

Aryn was slower to open his box. He recognized the ring—she’d kept the old one he’d had before, when he’d been Gabron. Would it fit? He was taller and heavier since Kifirin had remade him.

"It will fit—do you think Lissa didn’t notice?" Thurlow was smiling—a real smile that he hadn’t experience in a long while.

Aryn tried the ring on—it did fit. "I’ll have to court her," he sighed. "Make her trust me again."

"You’ve made a good start—you wouldn’t have that if you hadn’t," Thurlow pointed to Aryn’s ring. "And we have to court the rest of her Inner Circle, too—make them trust us. We have a long road, friend," Thurlow slapped Aryn on the back.

* * *

"Lissa?" I’d gone hunting for Shadow. He was still wearing my ring; I saw that right away. He’d never taken it off. At least it meant he’d loved me the whole way through, even though he hadn’t done much in the way of standing up for me or our love against his father and grandfather. That hurt more than anything, I think. Now, Shadow stood before a fireplace inside my huge library, thumbing through a book on ancient Refizani history.

"Learning anything new about Refizan?" I nodded at the book. "Karzac or Aryn can likely give you a better perspective on how things really were instead of reading that thing."

"Is that where Aryn is from?" Shadow still didn’t know.

"Aryn used to be Gabron," I sighed. "Kifirin gave him a new face and a second chance. I just gave his ring back."

"Lissa, you’re not letting him back in your bed, when you won’t even," Shadow couldn’t finish his sentence, he looked so hurt.

"That’s why I’m here, you difik wizard. I came to ask for my ring back. I’m not saying we’re going to be perfect right here and now. You have an uphill climb, just like Aryn and Thurlow. I’m giving you the right to step back into the Inner Circle. And if you don’t piss me off too bad and if the surrogate thing works out with Erland and Gardevik, then in two years I’ll consider doing the same thing with you. We’ll find a surrogate and Grey House can stop getting their panties in a bunch over an heir from your loins or whatever." I sat wearily on a nearby sofa.