All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [164]
She had to think things through with great care . . . and with no dangerous emotional responses.
Audrey extended her arms and felt everything hanging in balance in the weave of the world. It wasn’t just Eliot. He was a catalyst, but it all teetered: alliances and treaties, the entire League, and the fate of every creature in this realm.
The smallest action at this point—even her feeling the surface of the weave—could potentially tip it all one way or the other.
And she instinctively knew that once that happened, such an imbalance would accelerate, every thread would pull against the other and tangle and snap and snarl . . . and then the only way forward would be to cut it all to shreds.
She let her arms drop.
It started to snow; the flakes made a million downy impacts about her.
Henry had, of course, tried to come with her on this walk, but she’d firmly declined his offer of jabbering company. He was part of the problem, too.
As Audrey arranged her thoughts to encompass more factors, she realized that Henry might be a real problem.
Henry . . . and Aaron . . . and even Gilbert.
Henry was charming, and always scheming, and ever elusive. He was holding something back about Eliot and his transformation of the Del Mundo Pharma Chemical plant. And there was the matter of his no-longer-in-the-League Driver, Robert Farmington. Henry had somehow finagled him into Paxington . . . as his spy?
Audrey had been keeping tabs on Mr. Farmington, at first thinking he was at Paxington to keep track of Fiona. But now Eliot was going to his apartment almost every day after school. There was more to Henry’s agent, and she would have to investigate further.
Her conclusion, however, was the same: Henry was taking a too-personal interest in the twins.
To what end? Certainly not to help the Infernals, but it seemed he wasn’t really helping the League’s interests, either.
She considered questioning him directly, but that had never done any good. Henry was too slippery.
She set him aside in her thoughts and moved on to the next factor that made little sense in all this—Aaron.
He had initially taken such great interest in Eliot and especially Fiona. But now? He seemed to be maintaining a distance from them . . . or at least made it appear that way.
And then there was Gilbert, the Once-King, who was not here today. He, too, had been such a supporter of the twins. Why abandon them now? Gilbert had never walked away from a fight.
Unless he had chosen to fight on another unknown front?
Yes. Henry, Aaron, and Gilbert—all three of them were in this, working together. That was a dangerous possibility: brains, strength, and courage allied.
But again, to what end? It was unlikely they would move against the will of the League. They all had signed the Warrants of Death, in case one of the children turned Infernal.
Audrey felt a choking in her throat, and her hand covered her heart.
She was feeling. Despite her cut maternal ties, emotions churned inside her, acidic, boiling, so deep and powerful she dared not let them take control.
She squeezed her eyes shut and banished them . . . but not entirely.
Her thoughts remained clouded.
There was doubt now. Where was her sense of right and wrong? What happened to the certainty that her children should die, if necessary, to prevent war between Immortals and Infernals?
She had known exactly what the possibilities were the moment she realized was she pregnant . . . and who the father was.
Audrey took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled, regaining a bit of her icy control.
Eliot and Fiona had grown up all too quickly. Their roles within the families would soon be determined—a continuation of order within the League or a place in the Infernal clans, where they would be used to shatter the long peace.
That was the only factor to consider. The only reason to embrace Fiona and Eliot—or to destroy them. The choice and consequences were all clear.
Why, then, was this so hard?
Wasn’t it utter insanity to consider any other options?
Audrey then realized that