All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [290]
Aaron stood apart from them, still dripping in his EVERLAST trunks, his chest hair plastered to his muscular chest.
Henry was missing.
In absentia also was Dallas—called before the Council by special summons. Her tardiness would no doubt be an excuse for Lucia to try to punish the girl.
No surprise, really, that neither had showed. It was not in their natures to respond to authority.
Audrey, however, had also failed to arrive . . . and she was never late or shirked her responsibilities once she accepted them. It was a dark omen.
“I suppose we have a quorum,” Gilbert admitted, and glanced again at his watch.
“Have we all seen Fiona’s e-mail?” Lucia asked.
They nodded. Cornelius opened the document on his computer.
Fiona’s e-mail was a pledge to help the Immortals defend themselves from “the looming threat of Infernal machinations and incursions into our world” as well as a plea to help her find new leadership to stop this threat.
“I’m enormously pleased with this development,” Lucia said. “Fiona has matured far beyond my expectations. We need to bring her onto the Council; perhaps some sort of internship?”
“She is a child still,” Gilbert protested.
“Hardly,” Aaron muttered. “She has fought and won a war in Hell! What more proof do you need for abilities?”
“Of her abilities?” Kino said. “None.” He made a sideways slash with his hand. “But she is barely a woman and in desperate need of our guidance.”
“Yes, guidance,” Lucia said. “Which brings me to the other matter, one our spies in the Lower Realms have brought to our attention. Eliot.”
Kino stood. “The boy is now a landed Infernal Lord who is also half Immortal. This is a disaster! His powers will grow beyond our measure, and his mind will warp until it is evil.”
Aaron shook his head. “I don’t believe that. Not Eliot.”
Gilbert looked uncomfortable between the two men, and he stood as well. “I do not wish to discuss Audrey’s children if she is not here.”
“There is no discussion necessary,” Lucia told them. She got to her feet, and her cheeks flushed. “This has already been decided, last year—for just such a contingency. You all put your mark to the document, even you, Gilbert! Do not evade responsibility when it becomes difficult.”
They stood in silence (save Cornelius, who remained seated in silence). They knew exactly what she was talking about.
Last year when they had proclaimed Fiona a young goddess and Eliot a hero within the League, the Council had feared this very thing: one or both of the children’s Infernal sides would call to them, and they would succumb to its temptations.
Each Council member had signed a Warrant of Death so action could be taken without delay. All that remained was for Lucia to fill in the date and the document became binding . . . and every one of the League’s members would be compelled to find and destroy Eliot.
Cornelius rubbed his hands to ease the arthritic ache within his bones.
In truth, his loyalties were conflicted, for he liked Eliot and Fiona. There were grandchildren to him . . . at least, that was how he had begun to think of them.
His own children were lost. Zeus had met his fate. No one had seen him since Ultima Thule, and Cornelius knew in his heart he was dead. Poseidon had taken his own life in a flash of light, and his ashes were now scattered across the seas he so loved. And Kino? The Lord of Death was so far from the child Cornelius had reared, he might as well be dead to him.
He sighed.
Violence was no stranger to this family. Cornelius’s children had plotted the genocide of Cornelius’s own primordial brothers and sisters. Oceans of blood had flowed that day. It had to be done, and Cornelius had chosen then to save the young members of his family by murdering the elder Titans.
Had not the same thing happened to him? Had he not killed his own father at the urging of his mother?70
This time, however, something was different: it was not just his family—but the Infernals as well.
The fallen angels were insane and wielded far more power than the League. They