Blood Reunion

"I think it will look good in her braid," Ry agreed. Toff had gotten a credit chip from Grant, one of the Queen's assistants before they'd set out, and Queen Glinda had folded space to get them all to Hraede.



"Here," Toff handed his wrist over—the credit chip was on a bracelet and the clerk scanned it before boxing up the comb. Toff kept looking around him as they made their way through a crowded shopping district in the capital city of Hraede. Tory and Ry bought a bracelet and matching necklace for their sister before they were done for the day.



"Want to see the High Demon palace on Kifirin?" Tory whispered to Toff when the shopping was over.



"Can we?" Toff was extremely curious. Only one thing might have made this day better—if Nissa had been there with him.



"We can go for a little while," Lissa agreed—she'd heard what Tory said to Toff. Toff realized that Ry hadn't been lying when he'd said his mother could hear anything said nearby.



"So, how are you feeling?" Glinda asked Queen Lissa later when they landed inside the palace vestibule on Kifirin. Toff noticed it was very much like the palace on Le-Ath Veronis.



"Both palaces designed by the same person," King Jayd leaned down to inform Toff before he could ask.



"Tybus was an amazing architect, don't you think?" Tory's father, Gardevik Rath walked up while packages were sorted. Garde was King Jayd's brother and Prime Minister on Kifirin, in addition to being one of Queen Lissa's Inner Circle mates.



"Is that his name?" Toff stared at the vaulted ceiling made of marble veined in blue, silver and gold.



"Was his name. He died long ago when Le-Ath Veronis was destroyed," Garde replied, tousling Toff's hair. "How are you, Toff? Are you doing well? You must tell us if there is anything amiss."



"Le-Ath Veronis was destroyed?" Toff hadn't heard that before.



"Around one hundred fifty thousand years ago," Tory answered Toff's question. "Mom is still rebuilding it."



"How long have you been rebuilding it?" Toff asked Lissa.



"Nearly eighteen years," Lissa was smiling at Toff. "Did you enjoy the trip to Hraede?"



"Yes. Can we go again, sometime?"



"You will be welcome on Hraede anytime," Rigo nodded.



They had a light snack with Glinda, Jayd and the others, and Tory showed Toff through the hall of ancestors. Toff stared at the huge sculptures.



"What are those?" Toff didn't know what to think—the images seemed frightening.



"High Demons in Full Thifilathi," Ry replied. "That's what King Jayd and Uncle Garde are—High Demon. Tory here is half."



"You turn into that?" Toff now stared at Tory in disbelief.



"Not yet." Tory sounded embarrassed.



"Plenty of time, young one—don't rush it," King Jayd draped an arm around Tory's shoulders, although Tory was as tall as his uncle.



Toff's head was spinning. What else might he see? Tory, a High Demon? He hadn't heard of that before. Norian Keef, the Director of the ASD, a shapeshifter lion snake? Ry and Tory had hinted that their Uncle Winkler was a shapeshifter, too. What did he become? Toff was afraid to ask.



"Do you do that often?" Toff nodded to the nearest huge sculpture. The sixteen-foot statue depicted something between humanoid and animal, Toff thought, with widely spaced fangs in the open mouth, horns that bent back above the ears and claws on fingers and toes. The scaled skin, carved in marble, appeared tough and impenetrable.



"Once a month," Jayd nodded. "Or if we are attacked, the Thifilathi will come. That is how we fight our enemies."



* * *



Roff sat next to Toff at dinner later. "Would you like to come with me tomorrow to Kifirin and cut back the oxberry vines?"



Toff hadn't seen natural sunlight on Le-Ath Veronis since coming to the palace. "I think I would like to come," Toff nodded. "I just need some time tomorrow evening to finish a report for Master Morwin."



"We'll have you back in plenty of time for that," Roff smiled, showing even, white teeth. "Wear something you won't mind getting dusty or scratched up. The oxberries have thorns."



"Wear denim pants and leather boots," Ry suggested. "I've cut oxberry vines back before. You'll be covered in dust and leaf bits when you're done."



"Can't be much different from cutting and binding cornstalks," Toff smiled back at Roff.



"Much the same, except for the thorns," Roff agreed, accepting a glass of wine from a servant.



* * *



"This is my favorite place to sit." Toff sat beside the Queen, listening to her as he stared over the capital city from the uppermost dome of the palace. Toff was glad he wasn't afraid of heights—he might have been screaming if he were, they were up so high. "I had to bring you now, because Karzac tells me that in two weeks I can't use my power until after the baby comes."



Toff jerked his head around to look at the Queen. "You're pregnant?"



"Yes, honey. It came as quite a shock, let me tell you. I thought it was impossible, but that, like many other things, has changed."



"But Ry and Tory." Toff didn't finish. He meant Nissa, too, he just couldn't say it. How was Lissa their mother, if she hadn't been pregnant before?



"Ask Master Morwin to explain genetics to you," the Queen hugged Toff before letting go. "My Larentii manipulated donor eggs with something of me, and my three children were born to surrogate mothers. They're still mine in every sense of the word, just as they belong to their fathers. Now, we're all waiting to see who this one belongs to." Lissa patted her almost-flat stomach.



"It is much the same in the Fae village," Toff agreed. "At times, they have to wait until the baby is born and see what color his hair is."



"The Fae don't reproduce very often, so they are anxious to get children any way they can," Queen Lissa agreed. "Kifirin says it is because they are an immortal race. If they reproduced as often as the mortal races, they would quickly overpopulate, unintentionally."



"Cheedas says that my race lives to be around six hundred or so," Toff sighed.



"That is a very long life. I hope yours is as happy as you could wish it," Lissa said softly.



"It has been miserable until recently," Toff replied.



"Do you miss your foster parents?"



"I miss Corent. And Father Willow. I don't think I miss the others much at all. I certainly don't miss Gren. He tried to kill me, even though he took the vow of nonviolence. And then he tried to kill Nissa." Toff found that unforgiveable.



"Yes. I can't tell you how thankful I am that she flaunted her great-grandfather's instructions and made protection jewels."



"I still have mine, though it isn't good anymore." Toff lifted the blackened jewel from under his shirt.



"Shadow says it was fine work and performed flawlessly," Lissa fingered the jewel before giving it back to Toff. "And she did it without any instruction." Toff knew that Queen Lissa was proud of her daughter.



"We'll see her in three days," Toff sighed.



"We will. Cheedas has something special planned in the kitchen. We'll eat well for sure," Lissa said.



* * *



"Wear these," Roff handed leather gloves to Toff. Toff had been quite shocked when they arrived at the farms on Kifirin. They went on forever in his estimation, and comesuli were everywhere, some with young ones. Even a few of the very young, barely old enough to walk, followed a parent around. All had been transported to Kifirin to work on the oxberry vines.



"Roff, where are the women and girls?" Toff asked softly.



"Child, they are all as you are—born without genitalia. See that one over there with the sling over his shoulder?" Toff looked where Roff indicated.



"What is inside the sling?" Toff saw that there was something carried inside the sling on the comesula's left side. The strap holding it up was slung across the comesula's right shoulder.



"That is a baby pouch—it is how the comesuli reproduce. Generally, they have one or two children during their long life. When it is time, the pouch drops off and the child makes his way out, much like a turtle hatching from an egg."



Toff had stopped still, staring now at the pregnant comesula. This was completely foreign to Toff, although it was his race. "But what about mating and such?"



"That is a question best left for later, young one. Come, we will take care of the vines today, and we will tend to your education later. Comesuli will not reproduce until the age of sixty or so, with most occurring around the age of one to two hundred years. The second one, if it comes, will happen sometime after that. Do not fear, you are not about to drop a child next week." Roff patted Toff's shoulder. Toff had to tear his eyes away from the pregnant comesula. If they had no genitalia, how did they get pregnant to start with? Toff was beginning to get worried.



He did get extremely dusty, cutting back oxberry vines right alongside Roff. He kept up with him, too, leaving many of the others behind. Toff had experience with this—he'd been doing it for as long as he could remember. The thick, leather gloves protected his hands as he cut the thorny vines back, tossing what he'd cut to the side as Roff instructed, allowing others to gather the cuttings and haul them away for burning. The cutting kept the vines from growing too tall and thick; thick and tangled vines always made it more difficult to harvest the berries the following spring.



They stopped for lunch at midday, and Toff enjoyed eating with the comesuli, including the little ones. One or two climbed into his lap, and he was shocked that they ate mostly meat, with only a few vegetables.



"They eat protein straight from the birthing sac—they're born with a full set of teeth," Roff explained as Toff helped a tiny one eat. He could barely get himself around by walking, though his parent said he was nearly two. Toff recalled Cheedas' words—that comesuli matured slowly and wouldn't reach their full growth until age twenty-nine. This brought it home to him—he hadn't thought it over before.