Once In a Blue Moon (30 page)

“The Demon Prince lives inside people now,” said Hawk.

“We’d better get moving,” said Jack.

•   •   •

T
he dragon flew them all farther into the heart of the Forest Land, following Jack’s directions, towards Gillian’s Sorting House. Jack had a pretty good memory for a man in his seventies, though it helped that he still had Gillian’s last letter. The monks of Saint Augustine’s weren’t supposed to have material possessions, but they made an exception for Jack. No one had to ask why. Hawk thought quietly that if he’d known how much Jack prized letters, he would have written more.

The dragon picked up on the geological details in the letter surprisingly quickly; it appeared that dragons knew where everything was, if you just gave them enough clues. He flew over several Sorting Houses, high enough to keep out of range of nervous archers, before finally closing in on the one Jack said was right. It turned out to consist of several large barracks arranged around an even larger central house, with courtyards and stables and training grounds—once again enclosed by a tall, protective stone wall. Hawk said the place reminded him of Saint Augustine’s, and Jack said something really quite rude, for a monk. The dragon circled round and round the Sorting House, so they could all look it over. He spiralled slowly lower, until a few bowmen got brave enough to send a few arrows arcing upwards. They didn’t even come close.

“Kids today,” said Fisher.

The dragon caught a thermal, and swept up and away from the Sorting House. Because, as he pointed out, if he should happen to lose his temper and do something big and fiery and entirely lethal to the archers, it wouldn’t make a good first impression when they finally went down to ask about Gillian. Hawk said he quite understood, and the dragon found another suitable clearing to land in, within walking distance of the Sorting House. Everyone got off, after they’d prised Chappie’s claws loose, and Jack walked round and round in circles for a while, easing his old joints. Hawk watched but didn’t say anything. It disturbed him to see his son so old, but he didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

“I think I’ll stay here again,” said the dragon.

“Probably for the best,” said Fisher. “I have a horrible feeling we’re going to have to be diplomatic with the Brotherhood if we’re going to spring Gillian. And that’s not something Hawk and I find easy at the best of times.”

“Really,” murmured Jack. “You do surprise me . . .”

“But given that we could end up having to face off against a small army of highly trained fighters . . .” said Hawk.

“You call me and I’ll hear it,” said the dragon. “And I’ll be there before you know it. Ooh, look! Dodos! Crunchy!”

And he disappeared abruptly into the woods.

“How does he do that?” said Jack.

“How else can a thirty-foot dragon sneak up on things?” said Fisher.

•   •   •

T
hey hurried through the woods, and soon burst out into a wide clearing, cut from the Forest with military precision and more than big enough to hold the Brotherhood of Steel’s Sorting House. The perimeter wall was solid stone, rising up a good ten feet, and the one and only entrance gate was covered with all kinds of military motifs. The outside of the wall looked like it got whitewashed daily, probably by resentful young men and women on punishment duty. Hawk insisted that everyone stay back and stand their ground, while he looked the place over. He had a strong feeling that he and his companions were being observed by hidden eyes. He’d walked into enough traps in his time to feel their presence in his bones and in his water.

But since he couldn’t hope to vault the wall or crash the entrance gate, he walked right up to it, smiling cheerfully, as though he didn’t have a care in the world, his hand just casually resting on the axe at his side. Fisher was right there with him, smiling her usual disturbing
don’t mess with me
smile, not even bothering to look diplomatic. Jack strolled along behind them, pointing out pretty birds and butterflies to Chappie, who wasn’t really interested in that sort of thing. Unless you could eat them.

As they approached the blocky metal-studded gate, it suddenly swung open before them, and a dozen heavily armed and armoured young men and women came marching out, in strict file and discipline, with an old woman in ornamental silver armour at their head. They crashed to a halt before Hawk and his party, and saluted them with drawn swords, before putting the weapons away again and crashing to attention. Hawk stopped too, and smiled at the old woman in charge. He had no problem recognising Gillian.

She was also clearly in her seventies, but in rather better shape than her brother, Jack. A tall warrior woman, who wore her chased silver armour as though it were a dressing gown, something comfortable she’d just happened to throw on. Her face had a lot of what Hawk quietly decided he was going to call character lines, but she still looked hale and hearty and a good ten years younger than she should. She carried herself like the professional fighter she was, and always would be. And for all her years she still looked like she could be extremely dangerous if the mood took her. She had close-cropped iron grey hair, cool blue eyes, a pursed mouth, and an attractive if not conventionally pretty face. She looked Hawk and Fisher over carefully, and smiled briefly.

“Of course. I knew it had to be you. The first dragon anyone’s seen in a century, come looking for me . . . Hello, Father, Mother.”

She stepped forward and embraced each parent in turn with brisk emotion, or at least, as much as her armour would let her. And only then looked at Jack, and Chappie. Her mouth twitched in something that might have been a smile if it had hung around long enough.

“Hello, Jack. Looking old. Still busy being holy?”

“Hello, Gillian,” said Jack. “Still busy being violent?”

They both laughed quietly but made no move to embrace each other.

“Play nicely, children,” said Fisher. “Or there will be no story at bedtime.”

“Damn, that takes me back,” said Gillian. “I have to say, Mum and Dad, you’re both looking very yourselves. Just like I remembered you.”

“I know,” said Hawk. “We haven’t aged, and you have. It isn’t fair. But what’s the first thing your mother and I taught you?”

“Life isn’t fair,” said Jack and Gillian, pretty much in unison. “That’s why people have to be.”

“We need to talk, Gillian,” said Hawk. “Can you come out? Or do you want to invite us in?”

Gillian turned and glared at the young warriors she’d brought with her, presumably as an honour guard. All of them still standing rigidly at attention. “See these three, and their really ugly dog?” she said loudly. “They’re with me. If anyone bothers them, I will take it as a personal affront. Understood?”

Without moving a muscle, all of the young warriors did their best to give the impression that such a thought had never entered their minds. Hawk had to smile. Even as a small child Gillian had drilled her dolls mercilessly, refighting old battles with them. She even buried some of them, if only so her mother would have to buy her new ones. It seemed some things hadn’t changed.

Gillian led the way back into the Sorting House. She marched along like the soldier she still was but kept the pace down as a courtesy to the rest of her family. The honour guard . . . kept their distance. Everyone in the house’s courtyard stopped what they were doing to watch them pass, but no one said anything. Hawk kept a careful eye on everyone. There were young men and women paired in duels, with all kinds of weapons; more people in full armour, riding back and forth on horseback; and long rows of targets for those learning archery. They all looked very busy, very proficient. None of them seemed at all pleased to see Hawk and his companions. Gillian ignored everyone, taking her guests inside the Sorting House and straight to her private quarters by the most direct route.

Once inside the house lobby, she dismissed her honour guard, told an inquiring officer type to piss off and mind his own damned business, and led Hawk and Fisher, Jack and Chappie, down a series of narrow stone corridors to her quarters. Which turned out to be surprisingly comfortable. Nicely padded furniture, rugs and carpets from foreign lands, and lots of weapons displayed on the walls, ready for use. There weren’t enough chairs, so Gillian went out and got some from the next room. There were a few raised voices, immediately cut short, and then Gillian came back with extra chairs. She got everyone settled, put food on the table from her own private supplies, some of it quite exotic, and even managed a bone for Chappie to gnaw on.

“I’ll bet Jack never gave you a bone, when you visited his spartan home,” Gillian said gruffly.

“No,” said Chappie. “I had to bite off a bandit’s leg to get something to chew on.”

Gillian looked at the dog, and then at the others. “He’s not kidding, is he?”

“Unfortunately, no,” said Hawk. “The years have not mellowed our family dog. Or your mother either.”

Fisher snorted with laughter, and elbowed Hawk in the ribs.

“And that really was a dragon, flying overhead?” said Gillian. “It’s been so long since anyone’s seen one in the Forest Land, we had to go look up what species it was in the
Big Book of Unnatural Flying Things
.”

“He’s an old friend,” said Fisher.

“The one from all the legends, in the Demon War,” said Gillian. She sniffed at Jack. “You never believed any of those stories, when we were kids. I always believed.”

“I have been known to be wrong about things, on occasion,” said Jack. “How about you, dear sister? Any sins you’d like to confess?”

“That’ll be the day,” said Gillian. “You couldn’t handle my sins.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Jack, grinning suddenly. “I’ve been around.”

“Anyway,”
Hawk said loudly, “what have you been doing, Gillian? Your mother and I rather lost track of you after you left the Forest to go down to the Southern Kingdoms.”

“That was the point,” said Gillian. “I wanted to make my own life, without your reputation peering over my shoulder all the time. And you did make Haven sound very . . . interesting. I had a good time down there. The city port was just as big a moral cesspit as you always said, and there was no shortage of bad guys to go after. Always something to do in Haven, usually of a violent nature. I signed up for the City Guard, just like you, and had the time of my life, tracking down and smiting evildoers. Made Captain in no time. They still remember you, you know. You’re legends in Haven: the only honest Guard Captains. I like to think I was honest too, in my own brutal and unforgiving way.

“When I got too old to work the streets, I came back here. And found the Brotherhood of Steel had moved in while I was away. Just what I was looking for—a whole organisation based on the idea of hitting people. I joined up to train the next generation of fighters, and found I made a much better teacher than I ever was a fighter. Imagine my surprise.” She looked from Hawk to Fisher and back again. “I’m seventy-two, and in good shape for my age, but you don’t look a day older than when Jack and I were children. It’s a bit creepy, to be honest.”

“It’s still us, Gillian,” said Hawk. “I’m still your dad.”

“And you’re still our daughter,” said Fisher.

“I walked out on you,” said Gillian. She couldn’t look them in the eye. “Never even said goodbye, because I thought . . . if I told you what I was going to do, you’d try to stop me. And I was determined not to be stopped. So I just left. Did you miss me?”

“Of course your mum and I missed you,” said Hawk. “But we of all people knew . . . that the bird has to leave the nest if she’s ever going to fly.”

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” said Gillian, her voice just a bit unsteady. “So sorry, Mum.”

“We are not an ordinary family,” Hawk said kindly. “Your mother and I always knew our children were never going to lead ordinary lives.”

Gillian nodded quickly. “Why are you here now?”

“Have you heard from Nathanial recently?” said Fisher.

“Not recently, no,” said Gillian. “Why?”

“The Demon Prince appeared to us, inside the Millennium Oak,” said Hawk. “To tell us our grandchildren were in danger. Unless your mother and I returned to the Forest Land to save them. He also had much to say about death and war and horror, all in the near future. So we’re going back to Forest Castle, as Hawk and Fisher. Jack’s with us. How about you?”

“Of course,” Gillian said immediately. “Nathanial’s currently working at the Castle. Just like Jack’s daughter, Mercy.”

Hawk and Fisher looked at each other.

“I sense Fate and Destiny at work, the sneaky bastards,” said Hawk.

“Really?” said Fisher. “I sense the Demon Prince, plotting his dark little heart out again.”

“I used to have nightmares about him,” said Gillian. “When I was just a kid. Used to think he was hiding in the shadows at the foot of my bed, every night. Watching, and waiting . . .”

Jack nodded. “I never really believed he was real, but that didn’t stop me being afraid of him.”

“Why has he come back now?” said Gillian.

“Because it’s been a hundred years since the Demon War,” said Jack. “Evil does so love to commemorate anniversaries. As a Transient Being, a concept given flesh and blood and material form, the Demon Prince has no reality, as such. He is therefore bound by rules and traditions, always repeating old actions in the hope of a new and different outcome. And he bears grudges, because he is incapable of forgetting or learning from the past.” He broke off and smiled at the others. “There’s lots of reading to do in a monastery.”

Hawk had no idea what to say to any of that, so he turned to Gillian. “Are you going to need some time, to give in your notice to the Sorting House, and the Brotherhood of Steel?”

“Hell, no,” said Gillian. “Come and go as I please. In fact, they’ll probably be glad to see the back of me.”

•   •   •

G
illian gathered up her few personal possessions and equipped herself with a whole bunch of nasty and efficient weapons. But when they went back out into the courtyard, it seemed like the whole Sorting House had emptied itself out to block her way. The entire staff and student population had turned out, to stand between Gillian and the exit. They stood spread out in ranks, ready and watchful, most of them armed. Gillian glared about her, her hand dropping to the great sword at her hip, and a great many watching faces went pale. Among the staff, as well as the students. For a long, uncomfortable moment everyone just stood and stared at everyone else; and then everyone jumped, just a bit, as a loud cracking sound broke the silence. Everyone looked at Chappie, who’d just broken the bone he’d been chewing on in half, in his powerful jaws. He opened his mouth, to let the two pieces fall to the ground, and gave everyone a hard look.