The Dire King (Jackaby #4)(30)
Charlie froze. The man lunged at him, and I wondered for a moment if the big brute was going to take his head off, but then there was a patting of backs and Charlie was returning a vigorous hug.
“Uncle Dragomir!” he said, pulling out of the bear hug. The girl on the bench had risen as well. She had dark, curly hair and wore a long traveling cloak. “Alina!” As Charlie hurried to embrace her, the resemblance was unmistakable; this was Charlie’s sister. “What are you two doing here?” Charlie asked, looking delighted but dumbfounded. Alina’s eyes dropped and she swallowed hard.
“The question is, what are you doing here?” Dragomir’s voice was heavy with Slavic syllables. I had grown so accustomed to Charlie’s subtler accent, it was easy to forget sometimes that his was largely Americanized. “We’ve heard things. There is talk of trouble on the rise. I had no idea it was this bad.”
Dragomir sneered as he glanced around the room. One of the gnomes had apparently gotten either a very good roll or a very bad one, and his kinsmen erupted into a flurry of discontent. The giant snorted and rolled over in his sleep, sending the gnomes scrambling to get out of his way.
“I cannot say I am surprised. Even as a pup, you were always causing trouble. Your father had such hopes for you, even after you left. And now little Kazimir, son of the great Suveran of the Om Caini, has fallen in with this lot. Rousing quite a rabble, as I hear it. You are living up to your name, aren’t you?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I said, but Charlie shook his head, abashed.
“It means,” Dragomir said, glaring at me, “that I keep the peace. It is my job in our family. I am the—how do you say—arbiter. Kazimir does the opposite.”
“Charlie isn’t the one causing this mess,” I rebutted, “and neither are we. Charlie is a peacekeeper as well. He’s a policeman.”
“Why do you keep calling him such a ridiculous name? What kind of name is Charlie for the heir to the House of Caine?”
I chose not to point out that Charlie had adopted a different surname as well, as of late. “We’re the ones trying to help, sir,” I said. “My employer and I have spoken to Lord Arawn. He keeps the gates between our world and the Annwyn, and he will soon be alerting the leaders of his neighboring kingdoms.”
“Don’t lecture me on things you do not understand, child. Arawn doesn’t need to tell his neighbors anything.” Dragomir’s voice was confident and proud. “The otherworlds already know all about your hole in the veil. It is the topic of every trader and traveler between the realms. The Om Caini have good ears. We know how to listen.”
“Well, that’s grand, then. Jackaby will be glad to hear it,” I said. “We could use the support. There is an organization at work called the Dire Council. They are the ones responsible for the rend; we’re sure of it. We’ve nullified a few of their number, but we are still trying to track down the Dire King.”
Dragomir looked unimpressed. “That’s not how the story is going in the otherworlds. Word among the elves and dwarves is that humans are preparing to invade the Annwyn. They say the rend came from your side of the veil. They are saying that the humans have grown bold.”
“What?” I said. “That’s ridiculous!”
“Is it?” said Dragomir. “You should tell that to the refugees cowering in this house. The kingdoms of the Annwyn are not happy about you humans right now. They’re not happy with Arawn, either. They are saying that the fair folk aren’t strong enough to hold the barrier any longer. They are saying that the fair folk used to have powerful leaders. Hafgan was strong. They are saying Hafgan could’ve held the barrier.”
“That’s utter lunacy!” I said. “Hafgan’s acolytes are the ones trying to tear it down!”
“That’s not how I hear it. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The Om Caini are neutral. We stay out of politics. If I did choose sides—which I won’t—then you might not like the side I choose, girl.”
“This isn’t about politics, Uncle Dragomir,” Charlie pressed. “It’s about principles. It doesn’t matter what side you’re on; the Dire King is a hateful, dangerous force—and if he is not opposed, he will bring death and destruction to all sides. The earth and the Annwyn are going to tear each other apart.”
“I sometimes wonder if that would not be for the best,” said Dragomir coldly. “A culling. A flood, like the old days. Tomorrow’s forest grows stronger for yesterday’s fire, does it not?” He huffed. “This is not our war. We’re leaving, Kazimir. We only came to fetch you and be on our way. Come.”
“What?” Charlie and I both managed at the same time.
“I can’t leave now,” said Charlie. “Tell my father—”
“Your father is dead,” Dragomir barked. Charlie froze, speechless. Slowly his expression crumbled. Dragomir ground his teeth and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his voice was softer. “Your father is dead, and your people need you—or have you spent so much time with humans you have forgotten your loyalty?” He narrowed his eyes in my direction.
“I know what it is to be loyal.” Charlie stood his ground. “And I have spent enough time with humans to know what it is to be honorable, as well. I loved my father, but the House of Caine is not even a house—not any longer. Maybe it was once. But now—” He looked down, pained. “I am tired of running away from the world, Uncle. I swore an oath to this city. This is my home to protect. My peace to keep. I can’t abandon them now.”