Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

ALAN

" S ylvester Oakbree was a force of nature." The short man standing in front of us pushed a lock of wind-blown gray hair off his forehead. "I remember when I first met him…"

I let the sorcerer's words about a thunderstorm and a damaged bridge and Sylvester's ingenious solution wash over me. Jason stood at my side, his fingers warm against mine. The leaden sky overhead threatened rain, but none fell.

This wasn't a funeral. We had no body, and only a presumption of death, my magical perceptions not being proof in the human world. That was okay. This gathering was for those who'd known and loved Sylvester to remember him. No graveyard, no church or funeral parlor, just a clearing in the sparse woods outside Shadecliff and about forty people, most of us sorcerers.

Jason nudged me with his shoulder, and I realized the old guy had finished speaking, and it was my turn. "You don't have to," he murmured.

I gave him the best smile I could and let go of his hand. Walking through the crowd, I passed Sylvester's elderly colleague coming down from the speaking mound. He gave me a nod. "Worse things for us old geezers than passing out of the world while being a hero. I'd bet Sylvester would've chosen that over dying in his bed of feeble age."

Maybe, but not yet! I gave the guy a gritted-teeth nod.

When I reached the top of the little rise, I turned to face the crowd. There was Dale, wiping their eyes, with Kevin hovering at their side. There was Erin, stoic and white-faced. Roxi sat on her collar, a tiny paw against Erin's neck. Zahira stood tall and solemn at Erin's back, with Coal on her shoulder. I scanned a dozen other faces I recognized, some I didn't. We'd put out word in the Seattle magic community, and more people had shown up than I expected. Sorcerer Waidner stayed to the back of the crowd, but he'd taken time from cleaning up the NSEP mess to pay his respects. I wasn't sure if I was grateful or still angry.

Sunny perched in the branches of a tree overhanging the spot where we'd placed Sylvester's marker. The tree was a wild apple, its trunk twisted from some old fire or lightning, two big branches missing, but its remaining leaves and buds erupting valiantly in the spring warmth. Life, reaching out after adversity.

And there was Jason, looking at me intently as if willing me strength. As he'd been giving me strength the whole long week, giving me a place I could fall apart after a day of pretending to my classroom full of kids that everything was fine. He nodded to me now, and I realized I'd been silent longer than I intended.

"Sylvester Oakbree was a good man," I started, then cleared my throat. "He'd have laughed at that description, of course, finding it not colorful enough, but at heart, that's who he was. We've heard a bunch of stories, and in each one, whatever else he was doing, there was kindness and compassion under the humor and flair. When he met me, I was in desperate need of someone to offer me that kindness. He looked at me and saw, not a stupid kid who'd screwed up in a big way and should be punished, but a young man in need of guidance and support. He gave me that, even when my magical quirks frustrated us both."

I looked across the crowd. Erin was nodding, a little color back in her cheeks. Jason's gaze was fixed on me.

"Sylvester was getting old and losing his focus. He knew it and hated it. He agreed to have his magic controlled and bound for the safety of those around him, even though he despised how the suppressor cuff felt. I've worn that cuff, felt the way it blocks magic from escaping a sorcerer's core and being used. I loathed it, and I think there's little more heroic than the fact that Sylvester let us free him in times of need, and yet, voluntarily, over and over, put that cuff back on his own wrist." I shuddered.

At the back of the crowd, I spotted someone nodding vigorously, and looked closer. Darien! He and Silas stood on the opposite side from Waidner. I thought Silas might be leaning on a cane, but he had his chin up, face lifted to the dark sky. A stray shaft of brighter light passed over us, turning his hair to silver. For a moment, I saw an echo of Sylvester and my heart clenched.

"Someone said Sylvester would have welcomed the way he died. He went out the hero he always was. That's probably true. The necromancer from Fairbanks said there were no ghosts in that ground, that all the sorcerers who perished there had moved on." I couldn't help wondering if they truly went across the River, or if the darkness of the Pond consumed their souls as well as their magic, but I wouldn't share that fear with anyone else. "He might've been glad to have made such a difference with his last act on earth, but he wasn't ready. We weren't ready, to lose him. I'm angry, and I'm sad, and I miss him with all my heart. Knowing the day was coming doesn't make it easier to bear now."

A murmur from the crowd echoed agreement.

I straightened my shoulders. "Sylvester would understand that, but he'd also chide me gently. I bet he saw death as the next grand adventure. Just as he gloried in our last adventure, even when he didn't quite understand what we were doing. He'd tell us to focus on life, not death."

I turned to that apple tree, and Sunny flew to my shoulder. Should I? Can I? I wanted to give Sylvester one last gift, with the magic he helped me contain and use. But I'd dithered and waited, not tested it out as I should. I thought my power was waiting, curled sleeping inside me as it never was before, but I wasn't sure. What if I overdo it? What if I can't control it? What if it won't answer me at all?

That stray sunlight caught Silas again, and Darien beside him. If I was going to lose control of my magic, this crowd was probably the safest place to find out.

Reaching down into my core, I coaxed my magic upward. Heal. Bloom. A faint green tendril answered me, and then more, a rope, a river, flowing to the bent and damaged apple tree.

Suddenly, power surged within me. A green haze filled my vision, and I heard a voice.

"There you are. Is all well with you, my child? You've been hiding."

Gaia?

"Yes. You served me once, and you will always be one of mine."

You're too strong. I felt the rising wave of power, and a giddy sense I could do miracles with it. I don't want to hurt anything.

"That's your own power. You are strong, too. But I have faith in your control. I'm proud of you, Alan Hiranchai. Sylvester would be too."

You knew Sylvester?

"I was there when he gave his life for others, for the balance."

Is he… Did the Pond eat his soul when it took his magic? I held my breath, waiting for her answer.

"If by soul, you mean his essence, then no. His magic, his life, but not his essence. He moved on, a light across the universe."

Relief rushed through me, making my knees weak. Thank you.

A question occurred to me. Why didn't you just close down the Pond yourself? You had the strength.

"Chaos and Life must not fight each other directly in the mundane world. That would result in annihilation. We are in balance, and when one of our agents tips that balance too far, we find a way to counter it."

Did someone create the Pond, then? A human?

"Many humans over long generations, despoiling life, raised the energy of the Pond, and one sorcerer found a way to collect that destruction and use it."

Why in the Alaska wilderness, though? Why not in, like, the middle of a strip mine or gravel pit?

"An entity that feeds on life must be surrounded by life to flourish."

Are there more Ponds out there? A shiver ran through me. We humans were certainly not short of life-despoiling these days.

"Not at the moment, but I cannot see the future. Be well. Create life and love. Call on me, in need, as I may yet call on you."

That sense of presence, of limitless power, faded and was gone. I blinked away the green haze. At the edge of the clearing, the apple tree stood tall, its trunk healed and straight. Its branches spread in graceful arches, loaded with blossoms, the buds opening wide as we watched to drink in the gray daylight. Not a monster growth, not an orchard, but one healthy tree standing guard over Sylvester's marker.

I took a deep breath, and found Jason, anchoring myself in his compassionate gaze as I finished. I borrowed Gaia's words. "Sylvester Oakbree is dead, and we all mourn him, but he's not truly lost. He has simply moved on to a new adventure, a brilliant light across the universe."

The familiars in the crowd raised their voices in a moment of eerie chorus, calling out Sylvester's name amid dog howls, harsh caws, and "Fly well." As their voices ebbed away, a breeze rose, swirling between us and making the blossoms on the apple tree dance. Then the air stilled, and a light rain began misting down.

We'd set up a spread of food under the shelter near the park entrance, five minutes away. Most of the crowd headed that direction, some pulling up hoods but no umbrellas. On the West Coast, this fine drizzle hardly qualified as rain. Folks moved out in twos and threes, voices quiet but engaged. I caught a wisp of "…and then he had the rats following him like the Pied Piper…" as two older women passed. I guessed we'd never run out of Sylvester stories. That was comforting.

I went to Jason and he hugged me. Behind us, someone cleared their throat. I turned. "Oh, Darien and Silas, Grim and Pip, thanks for coming."

Silas said, "My generation's passing away, but Sylvester Oakbree had a better ending than most, doing the magic he loved in defense of people he loved. My condolences to those of you he left behind."

"Thank you."

"We're going to skip the meal, though."

"Sadly," Pip the terrier put in from Darien's side.

Grim twitched his whiskers, his cat-gaze scornful. "I want to get out of the damp. You won't starve."

"But it all smells wonderful." Pip wagged his tail and grinned a canine grin, and somehow, the world felt a little brighter.

"I have to thank you," I told the two powerful sorcerers. "Without your influence, the FBI might not have believed us about Poe, and Weidner might not have acted so quickly to arrange his arrest. Not to mention, some of us might be in jail for various offenses."

"You should all get medals," Darien said. "But really, being ignored is better. We'll keep pushing for them to leave you be. You will have to register with Weidner's NSEP, sadly. Laws haven't changed. But your reasons to avoid notice seem outdated." He waved at the apple tree. "Looks like you found your control."

"I think so." I turned my attention to my core where my magic sat quietly, purring in contentment. "I hope so."

"Will you change your profession, then?" Silas asked. "Go into horticulture or gardening?"

"Are you kidding? Trade twenty-seven distractable, runny-nosed, screaming, virus-carrying, oh and spitting on the floor little kids and their darling parents for majestic pine trees? Not on your life."

Jason snugged me against his hip. "He's a born teacher. Those kids are lucky as hell to have him. So am I."

A soft smile played across Darien's lips as he glanced at Silas. "I know the feeling."

"Will you go back to France?" Jason asked. "I'm sorry your trip got cut short."

"Not your fault," Silas said. "And I think not. Part of the charm of France all those years ago was probably the timing. Most of the people we knew there are gone, and not even the food and wine are really worth nine hours on an airplane."

"The food is good, though," Pip noted, his tail waving. "Especially the cheese."

Darien bent, a little stiffly, and swept his familiar up in his arms. "Never change, Pip."

"Why would I?" The little dog licked the chin of the most powerful sorcerer in the world and grinned. "Especially since you buy me all the imported French cheese I want."

Sunny, from my shoulder, noted, "You don't buy me French cheese, Alan."

"You don't eat cheese."

"I might. If it was imported."

Jason said, "We buy you pineapple and mangoes. You're not suffering."

"Just from disrespect." I squinted down to see Sunny draw a melodramatic wing across his face. "You called me that bird the other day."

"You pooped on my shoes!"

"You wore them too far into the house. Alan doesn't like that."

Jason sputtered and I laughed, grateful for both of them in that moment.

"We'll say goodbye, now." Silas gave us a grave nod, but amusement danced in his eyes. "Keep in touch."

"Yeah, don't be strangers," Darien told us.

I still couldn't believe the Necromancer and the Weaver were treating us like friends, but I murmured something appropriate and leaned against Jason, watching, as the two men and their familiars headed off down the path toward the road. A thread of complaint about the wet drifted back from Grim and I saw Darien sketch a rune. A dome of golden magic appeared, hovering over the big cat and deflecting the raindrops, as they turned the corner out of sight.

"Magical umbrellas," Jason muttered. "Can you do that now?"

"I'd hate to try. I might create a shade tree and drop it on your head."

"Good thing I don't mind a little wet, then."

I turned to look at the grassy track toward the pavilion, trodden down by dozens of feet. People had cleared out quickly, seeking shelter and perhaps not wanting to interrupt the sorcerous legends of Weaver and Necromancer. The small clearing sat empty and still, and yet full of life. "Do you want to go to the wake?" I'd said what I wanted to say, and the desire to hang out with Jason and avoid strangers was a lead weight holding me in place. "I suppose we have to. Erin's on her own."

"No, you don't," Sunny said. "She has Roxi and Dale and Zahira, and Dale has her and Kevin. Sort of."

I grunted because whatever was going on between those two was definitely at the "sort of" stage. Not to mention all the uncertainty still surrounding Kevin's legal problems and the inheritance from his father. And yet, Kevin had come to the memorial and stuck to Dale's side.

Sunny added, "Sylvester would urge you to run off and hang out with your fiancé, and do something that makes you happy." He pretended to cough. "I'll go support Erin for you, while you get happy ."

Jason snorted.

I said, "Thanks. You're the best."

Sunny gave me a gentle peck on the ear and winged off toward the picnic shelter.

I turned to Jason. "I don't know what I want." Sex wasn't it, not right now, no matter what Sunny was imagining.

"Walk with me." Jase let go of me and stepped back, but held out his hand. "Show me that apple tree, and we'll talk, or not talk."

Love for this man welled up inside me as I took his strong hand in mine. "It's raining," I said, to give him an escape.

"Neither of us will melt."

"Okay then." I smiled and pulled him close for a fast kiss, then led off across the tall grass of the meadow. Jason strolled at my side in the cool mist. The apple blossom scent strengthened as we approached Sylvester's tree.

I ducked under the low branches to lay a hand on the trunk. A hint of my magic still hummed inside there, slowly fading. "Balance. Consequences," I said. "I healed the trunk and the tree will live a lot longer, but I forced the blossoms to open early. If there are no other early blooms around, they won't get pollinated and there won't be apples this year."

"Could you force it to grow apples anyway?" Jason asked.

"Maybe." I thought about that, not touching my magic. "Most of an apple comes from the tree itself, not the pollination. But it would feel wrong, creating sterile fruit." I looked at the metal marker Zahira had crafted, set into the ground between the roots of the tree. It had Sylvester's name, two dates, and a portrait in raised relief so lifelike I expected to hear his voice calling me boy . No inscription— we hadn't come up with the right words, but the joy in that portrait was healing.

"Sylvester had all kind of sayings and lessons, cautions about magic and balance and how power affects the mundane world." I couldn't help a chuckle, despite the lump in my throat. "And then he'd take us off for some wild adventure and remind us that we only live once. That man was a contradiction."

"He loved you," Jason murmured. "Even when he was confused, even when he forgot what we were doing or where you were, he spoke of you and worried about you, and was proud of you to his very last moment."

I know. I'd been braced to lose that. He'd been going downhill mentally the last few years, and I'd known one day he'd forget me. One day he wouldn't recognize me. I'd cataloged his lapses, day after day, even as I tried to ignore them. A clock had been ticking inside me, anticipating a slow grinding pain, and now it was smashed flat by this sudden loss. I wasn't ready. It was too soon. There was still so much of Sylvester inside him. And yet, I was bone-certain that, given a choice and knowing the outcome, he would do the exact same thing over again.

"I'm glad you knew him," I said. "That you two met and he knew I'd found love and happiness with you. He liked you a lot."

"Me too. So when you'll talk about him in the years to come, I'll remember him as well."

"I wish he'd been around to see our kids," I mused, leading Jason away from the tree and down a winding path deeper into the woods. A trickle of rain found its way down my neck and my shirt clung to my skin, but I didn't mind feeling closer to the world around me.

Jason tugged on my arm. "Wait. Our what?"

"Kids? Rug rats? Snot-nosed monsters?"

"Where, where?" Jason looked around dramatically.

I squeezed his hand. "Don't get carried away. I meant someday. If you want to. Obviously, neither of our families need more heirs, but I thought… maybe?" I realized the question meant more than I'd expected, and held my breath. I'd take Jason without kids in a heartbeat, but I'd seen him with his nieces and nephews, and the thought of an older, settled Jason lifting our child to his shoulders made my heart clench.

"I like kids," Jason said. "Done a lot of babysitting in my day. I need time with you first, maybe a bunch of time, to figure out who we can be together. But someday, if there was a child that needed a home, yeah. I'd like that."

I let out a sigh. "No rush, absolutely. After all, we have Sunny to practice on."

Jason laughed. "I'd pay money to see you say that to him."

"Not a chance. I like my hair without bird poo in it."

"Yuck. Yeah. That moment when he hit Poe was classic."

"I'll treasure that memory the rest of my life."

Jason squeezed my fingers. "A lot happened to you. If you want to tell me more, anytime, or you want to see a therapist or whatever, I totally support you."

"Not now." I'd had a couple of nightmares about Poe and his Taser, but it helped to wake up and know the bastard was locked in a secure cell himself now. "I hope Oscar and the other long-term prisoners are getting help." I'd spoken with Oscar once on the phone, both of us needing to hear each other's voice free of that prison, but he had a life to rebuild, and all I could do was push to make sure the NSEP bastards who'd robbed him of two long years made up for it. "Have you heard anything?" Jason had volunteered to be liaison with the authorities.

"Waidner promised he'd take care of them. There's going to be a cash settlement and other resources. Darien's looking over Waidner's shoulder, so I expect he'll get it right."

"Heh." That would be motivation indeed.

"By the way," Jason said, "I had a long text on my phone from a very excited and slightly peeved Professor asking for all the details of our adventure sooner rather than later, for analysis and posterity, of course."

"Of course." The raccoon familiar had an insatiable appetite for magical information. If his sorcerer hadn't been homebound by age, I'd have expected to see the Professor on our doorstep demanding all the data.

"You don't mind if I tell him what I know?"

"Of course not." I'd wait a while to add my point of view, though, until the memories were less fresh. "What will you tell him about the Carnival?"

"Good question." Jason frowned. "The Carnival was weird, right? Like, not just more of the same magic you and Sylvester and Darien do, but a different kind of magic, to travel the galaxy?"

"The Carnival was very weird. Multidimensional weird." I thought back to that bubble of Carnival on the inhospitable surface of a mostly dead world. "How did Errante know I needed to practice finding the signature of life amid chaos and destruction, and find a place for me to do so beyond the bounds of Earth? How did he move that entire show to where we needed it to arrive, not once, but twice? Three times, if you count last year. Where does that level of power come from?"

"Maybe he has someone like Gaia behind him? Or maybe he himself isn't as human as he looks?"

"Perhaps." I sighed. "I have a feeling it's a question we won't solve unless we meet him again someday and ask him."

Jason said, "Since encountering the Carnival seems to lead directly into you almost getting killed, I'll take a pass and live with ignorance."

"Me too. Although I bet it will drive the Professor nuts." We exchanged amused glances.

I tugged Jason to a stop so I could look at him properly. In the dull gray light, with rain soaking his blond hair to amber, he still shone— that grin that lit his eyes, those big muscly arms that held me so perfectly whenever I needed a hug, that masculine ass that he gave up for me with joy and pleasure and no hesitation, and that big, big heart that had room for his family and my friends and his coworkers, and strays like Kevin, and yet was all mine. I'd once planned just a little fun with a hot firefighter, but found so much more than I'd ever dreamed of.

"I love you so damned much," I told him.

"What brought that on?" He tilted his head, the drizzle dripping off his eyebrow. "I love you, too. I plan to put a ring on your finger and spend a lifetime convincing you to stick around."

"No convincing needed." I let go of his hand, cupped his face between my palms, and pulled him down into a slow kiss. "I know the best man in the world when I've found him."

"Where, where?" Jason mimed looking around, his stubble rough against my palms, and I laughed.

"You don't know? I might have to demonstrate. With visual aids. And hands-on learning experiences."

"Teach me, baby." He gave a deep laugh. "I was so damned afraid to come out, and you've shown me everything I was missing. I'm just an ordinary guy, not special or magical. I'll learn anything you want to teach me."

"Even to see yourself the way I do?" I stilled, looking into the depths of his gray eyes. "To know that across all the worlds, walking between a musclebound Carnival strongman and the depth of Darien Green's power, it's you who shines like gold for me?"

He sobered too. "You're really sure? I'm just me."

I'd seen that hint of insecurity before, forged over twenty-five years of thinking that all his achievements and virtues couldn't balance out the gay man inside him in his loved ones' eyes. His family was coming around, and that helped, but I would tell Jason how wonderful he was because of the gay man inside him, as often and as long as he needed me to. In fact, it was my deepest pleasure.

"You're gorgeous," I kissed his cheek, "and smart," I tugged him lower to kiss his forehead, "and kind, and caring, and resourceful." That was worth a long kiss on the mouth. "And funny, and… and vigorous." I squeezed his forearm. "And sexy and hot?—"

"And yours," he said against my mouth. "I'm yours."

"Yeah, that. Same." I turned our kiss deep and fierce, pulling him against me, my thigh between his. The cold rain trickled over us, but his mouth was warm under mine.

The rain strengthened, and Jason must've inhaled drops because he broke our kiss to turn and cough. "As a firefighter, I love rain, but not up my nose. Can we take this somewhere drier and softer, with an added bonus of horizontal?"

I swiped a hand across my wet face and grinned— something I hadn't expected to be able to do this day. Jason made everything better. "Hell, yes, soon to be husband of mine. Let's go home."