"Aphrodite's_Flame_051" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kenner _Julie_-_[Protector_04]_-_Aphrodite's_Flame_(V1.0)_[lit](multi-file html))

Chapter Forty-eight

“How?” Izzy asked, and Mordi’s head spun. “I recommended against letting him back on the Council.”
“That’s what Zoë said. Apparently, the elders decided to ignore your recommendation.”
Izzy slammed her hand into the wall, and Mordi moved to take her in his arms. “It’ll be okay. We’ll stop this. Nothing bad will happen. We’ve stopped our dad before. We’ll do it again.”
“But he’s got Zephron,” she sniffled. “And he’s in the Inner Circle.” She pulled back, then, as if she’d just realized what she’d said. “Why is he in the Inner Circle?”
“Heritage,” Jason explained. “Neither Mordi nor I are old enough, but our family always holds a seat in the Inner Circle. Our grandfather’s seat was vacated when he retired. Our uncle, Zoë‘s dad, would have sat there, but he retired before he reached the Age of Elder and declined the place. Now that Hieronymous is back in the fold, the seat automatically goes to him.”
“Automatically?” Izzy asked. “Even after everything he’s done?”
Jason met Mordi’s eyes. “Apparently, no one’s filed a formal complaint.”
“The fountain pens!” Izzy said, her voice nearly a whisper. “I just realized. That’s how Hieronymous did it. He altered my father’s fountain pens.”
“What are you talking about?” Mordi asked, though something tickling the back of his mind made him think he already knew.
“The elders all have had these purple fountain pens. And they said that Patel was distributing them. My dad said the pens were special, designed to perfectly get all your thoughts out. What if Hieronymous altered them to put thoughts in?”
“Possible,” Mordi mused. He thought about it a bit more. “Yeah. That’s very possible.”
“Except that Patel was one of my re-assimilation cases. And I touched him.” She held up a hand before Mordi could protest. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I wanted to make sure he was okay. And he was.”
“Maybe he was blocking your powers.” That from Davy. “Like with something that goes on the skin, so that when you touch them—”
“That coppery smell.” Izzy banged her head with the heel of her hand, and Mordi felt a bit like a slow student. Isole continued. “My dad said he’d made some sort of balm, and that I’d find it useful. Something to block my powers.” She shook her head. “Hieronymous really did a number on me and my dad.”
“That’s his specialty,” Jason said.
Isole turned to face Mordi, and he pulled her into his arms, wanting to hold her there forever. Wanting to keep her safe. Wanting to make her forgive herself.
“Got it!” Davy’s voice echoed through the cave. They turned and, sure enough, part of the stone wall had pulled away, opening on some invisible hinge.
“Izzy.” Harold’s feeble voice rang out, and he reached a hand up toward his daughter. His skin was sallow, his limbs shaky.
Davy stood up, blocking his path. “Don’t do it, mister,” he said. “There’s a booby trap.”
Izzy’s eyes met Mordi’s, and he saw the fear reflected there. He asked the question she couldn’t. “What is it, Davy?”
“It’s keyed for his DNA. If he leaves, these catacombs collapse and we’ll all be squashed. You know, all gooey and—”
“Thanks, kid. We get it.” Hopping Hades, and damn Hieronymous! “Can we do anything? Leave some blood behind? That’s got his DNA.”
“I don’t think that’ll work,” Davy guessed. “It’s set up to need a whole person.” He bent back down to look at the control panel.
Izzy had broken away from Mordi and was now near her father. “Daddy. Daddy! Can you hear me?”
Harold Frost groaned, but he didn’t actually speak.
Izzy turned to Mordi, pain in her eyes. “He’s sick. Oh, Mordi, he’s really sick. We’ve got to get him out of here. He’ll die otherwise.”
“Right. Okay.” He spoke, but he didn’t have a plan.
“She can stay,” Davy said, looking at one of his devices, and they all turned to him.
“What?” Mordi asked.
“In his place. She’s got the right kind of DNA. He can leave and she can stay.”
“No,” Mordi said.
“Okay,” Izzy said at exactly the same moment.
“Sweetheart, you can’t.”
She looked into the dark cell, and he saw in her eyes just how true his words were. But then she stood up straighter and nodded. “Yes, I can. You have to go stop your father. And after you save the world, you can come back and save me. Deal?”
Her eyes were full of love and trust, and his heart twisted, awed by the depth of her faith in him. Still, though, he couldn’t bear leaving her. “I’ll stay with you. Jason can take your father to safety, then he and Zoë and Hale can search for Zephron. They’ll find him. They’ll—”
“No.” She pressed a finger to his lips, then kissed him. “No. You can stop this. For some reason, I think you’re probably the only one who can. But you need to go now. The negotiations start at eight.”
“Go? Go where? What the hell can I—” And then he stopped. Because she was right.
All of a sudden, he knew exactly what he had to do.

Chapter Forty-eight

“How?” Izzy asked, and Mordi’s head spun. “I recommended against letting him back on the Council.”
“That’s what Zoë said. Apparently, the elders decided to ignore your recommendation.”
Izzy slammed her hand into the wall, and Mordi moved to take her in his arms. “It’ll be okay. We’ll stop this. Nothing bad will happen. We’ve stopped our dad before. We’ll do it again.”
“But he’s got Zephron,” she sniffled. “And he’s in the Inner Circle.” She pulled back, then, as if she’d just realized what she’d said. “Why is he in the Inner Circle?”
“Heritage,” Jason explained. “Neither Mordi nor I are old enough, but our family always holds a seat in the Inner Circle. Our grandfather’s seat was vacated when he retired. Our uncle, Zoë‘s dad, would have sat there, but he retired before he reached the Age of Elder and declined the place. Now that Hieronymous is back in the fold, the seat automatically goes to him.”
“Automatically?” Izzy asked. “Even after everything he’s done?”
Jason met Mordi’s eyes. “Apparently, no one’s filed a formal complaint.”
“The fountain pens!” Izzy said, her voice nearly a whisper. “I just realized. That’s how Hieronymous did it. He altered my father’s fountain pens.”
“What are you talking about?” Mordi asked, though something tickling the back of his mind made him think he already knew.
“The elders all have had these purple fountain pens. And they said that Patel was distributing them. My dad said the pens were special, designed to perfectly get all your thoughts out. What if Hieronymous altered them to put thoughts in?”
“Possible,” Mordi mused. He thought about it a bit more. “Yeah. That’s very possible.”
“Except that Patel was one of my re-assimilation cases. And I touched him.” She held up a hand before Mordi could protest. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I wanted to make sure he was okay. And he was.”
“Maybe he was blocking your powers.” That from Davy. “Like with something that goes on the skin, so that when you touch them—”
“That coppery smell.” Izzy banged her head with the heel of her hand, and Mordi felt a bit like a slow student. Isole continued. “My dad said he’d made some sort of balm, and that I’d find it useful. Something to block my powers.” She shook her head. “Hieronymous really did a number on me and my dad.”
“That’s his specialty,” Jason said.
Isole turned to face Mordi, and he pulled her into his arms, wanting to hold her there forever. Wanting to keep her safe. Wanting to make her forgive herself.
“Got it!” Davy’s voice echoed through the cave. They turned and, sure enough, part of the stone wall had pulled away, opening on some invisible hinge.
“Izzy.” Harold’s feeble voice rang out, and he reached a hand up toward his daughter. His skin was sallow, his limbs shaky.
Davy stood up, blocking his path. “Don’t do it, mister,” he said. “There’s a booby trap.”
Izzy’s eyes met Mordi’s, and he saw the fear reflected there. He asked the question she couldn’t. “What is it, Davy?”
“It’s keyed for his DNA. If he leaves, these catacombs collapse and we’ll all be squashed. You know, all gooey and—”
“Thanks, kid. We get it.” Hopping Hades, and damn Hieronymous! “Can we do anything? Leave some blood behind? That’s got his DNA.”
“I don’t think that’ll work,” Davy guessed. “It’s set up to need a whole person.” He bent back down to look at the control panel.
Izzy had broken away from Mordi and was now near her father. “Daddy. Daddy! Can you hear me?”
Harold Frost groaned, but he didn’t actually speak.
Izzy turned to Mordi, pain in her eyes. “He’s sick. Oh, Mordi, he’s really sick. We’ve got to get him out of here. He’ll die otherwise.”
“Right. Okay.” He spoke, but he didn’t have a plan.
“She can stay,” Davy said, looking at one of his devices, and they all turned to him.
“What?” Mordi asked.
“In his place. She’s got the right kind of DNA. He can leave and she can stay.”
“No,” Mordi said.
“Okay,” Izzy said at exactly the same moment.
“Sweetheart, you can’t.”
She looked into the dark cell, and he saw in her eyes just how true his words were. But then she stood up straighter and nodded. “Yes, I can. You have to go stop your father. And after you save the world, you can come back and save me. Deal?”
Her eyes were full of love and trust, and his heart twisted, awed by the depth of her faith in him. Still, though, he couldn’t bear leaving her. “I’ll stay with you. Jason can take your father to safety, then he and Zoë and Hale can search for Zephron. They’ll find him. They’ll—”
“No.” She pressed a finger to his lips, then kissed him. “No. You can stop this. For some reason, I think you’re probably the only one who can. But you need to go now. The negotiations start at eight.”
“Go? Go where? What the hell can I—” And then he stopped. Because she was right.
All of a sudden, he knew exactly what he had to do.