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Authors: Stephen Kozeniewski
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she said, “In Guangdong.”
In the uncomfortable silence that followed it seemed that each of the other four immortals had words, but none could give voice to them. She continued.
“But I understand that is not our way. An immortal must be guided, taught the code, taught how to stay safe, how to deal with all these new...conditions. So knowing that, if the choice was truly mine, I would stay with Father Cicatrice. But I am a small raft on a great ocean. I will not be responsible for a war among our kind. Not now. Not ever. So I’ll go with Topan.”
“You will not,” Cicatrice said, “This is my manse and my House. The three of you have your answer. You can leave.”
Sephera stamped her foot.
“Listen to reason, won’t you, Father Cicatrice? A war? You’d have a war? Over what? How many in my House will have to die? How many in your House will have to die? Yes, Topan is acting like an infant. But give the baby his bottle and know that you’re better than him.”
“Go to Hell, Junker,” Topan growled.
“Grow a spine and fight your own battles, coward,” she rejoined.
Cicatrice slowly pulled a chair out from the table, turned it around to face his “guests” and seated himself before tenting his fingers.
“Sephera,” he said, “I understand why you’re here. There’s never been any conflict between our houses. Of all the Great Houses, my interactions with yours could be called the most…congenial. So they sent you as the good cop. Knowing that to have twelve elders show up on my doorstep would raise my ire to such a state I would burn the world of immortals to the ground before giving way.
“And Otto is the bad cop. Delighting in the role, no doubt, from a grudge that dates back to a time before any other living immortal was sired. A time when we were not so wise, and more prone, perhaps, to childish displays of peacock plumage.”
“You really should give up old vendettas, Cicatrice. It’s unbecoming of a man your age.”
“I’ll settle accounts with you yet, Otto. That’s a promise I’ve long stood by. But for the good of our kind, which must always be my paramount concern, I have long put off the revenge for our mutual sire.”
“Oh, don’t become all high and mighty on me…”
Cicatrice held up a hand to ask for silence, and even the overbold Otto Signari granted it to him.
“But this? This I cannot abide. A matter within my own House. Within my own lineage. A matter between my get and I. This is a matter that concerns no one not named Topan, Idi Han, or Cicatrice. But I know why the council is involved. My idiot former heir…” he looked at Topan. “Yes, if you hadn’t guessed, you’ve been passed over in favor of your own get.”
“You have no right…” Topan started to say.
Cicatrice stood. Without raising his voice, he continued.
“I have every right. I have the only right. I am patriarch of this House. The most powerful living immortal. None can challenge me. All my enemies exist at my pleasure. For the good of our kind. So that someday we will no longer need to be relegated to the shadows.
“But make no mistake of my consideration for weakness. The council would stand puffed up like a rooster on one matter so small they think I’ll back down. But you know something? I’m not scared to take on twelve Houses. Twelve Houses are shitting their pants terrified to take on me. Not my House. Just me.
“You’re children. Pants-wetting children. The only person here with anything approaching a backbone is my new get. And yes, she is my get. And my heir. And nothing can change that. You think you can push me down on this issue. And once I’ve set a precedent of giving an inch, you’ll take ten thousand miles. You’ll flay me hair by hair out of existence.
“Well, guess what? You want war over a tiny matter, a small matter, a matter so insignificant I couldn’t possibly fail to back down? You have it. War it is, on behalf of my get. I would wipe every
In the uncomfortable silence that followed it seemed that each of the other four immortals had words, but none could give voice to them. She continued.
“But I understand that is not our way. An immortal must be guided, taught the code, taught how to stay safe, how to deal with all these new...conditions. So knowing that, if the choice was truly mine, I would stay with Father Cicatrice. But I am a small raft on a great ocean. I will not be responsible for a war among our kind. Not now. Not ever. So I’ll go with Topan.”
“You will not,” Cicatrice said, “This is my manse and my House. The three of you have your answer. You can leave.”
Sephera stamped her foot.
“Listen to reason, won’t you, Father Cicatrice? A war? You’d have a war? Over what? How many in my House will have to die? How many in your House will have to die? Yes, Topan is acting like an infant. But give the baby his bottle and know that you’re better than him.”
“Go to Hell, Junker,” Topan growled.
“Grow a spine and fight your own battles, coward,” she rejoined.
Cicatrice slowly pulled a chair out from the table, turned it around to face his “guests” and seated himself before tenting his fingers.
“Sephera,” he said, “I understand why you’re here. There’s never been any conflict between our houses. Of all the Great Houses, my interactions with yours could be called the most…congenial. So they sent you as the good cop. Knowing that to have twelve elders show up on my doorstep would raise my ire to such a state I would burn the world of immortals to the ground before giving way.
“And Otto is the bad cop. Delighting in the role, no doubt, from a grudge that dates back to a time before any other living immortal was sired. A time when we were not so wise, and more prone, perhaps, to childish displays of peacock plumage.”
“You really should give up old vendettas, Cicatrice. It’s unbecoming of a man your age.”
“I’ll settle accounts with you yet, Otto. That’s a promise I’ve long stood by. But for the good of our kind, which must always be my paramount concern, I have long put off the revenge for our mutual sire.”
“Oh, don’t become all high and mighty on me…”
Cicatrice held up a hand to ask for silence, and even the overbold Otto Signari granted it to him.
“But this? This I cannot abide. A matter within my own House. Within my own lineage. A matter between my get and I. This is a matter that concerns no one not named Topan, Idi Han, or Cicatrice. But I know why the council is involved. My idiot former heir…” he looked at Topan. “Yes, if you hadn’t guessed, you’ve been passed over in favor of your own get.”
“You have no right…” Topan started to say.
Cicatrice stood. Without raising his voice, he continued.
“I have every right. I have the only right. I am patriarch of this House. The most powerful living immortal. None can challenge me. All my enemies exist at my pleasure. For the good of our kind. So that someday we will no longer need to be relegated to the shadows.
“But make no mistake of my consideration for weakness. The council would stand puffed up like a rooster on one matter so small they think I’ll back down. But you know something? I’m not scared to take on twelve Houses. Twelve Houses are shitting their pants terrified to take on me. Not my House. Just me.
“You’re children. Pants-wetting children. The only person here with anything approaching a backbone is my new get. And yes, she is my get. And my heir. And nothing can change that. You think you can push me down on this issue. And once I’ve set a precedent of giving an inch, you’ll take ten thousand miles. You’ll flay me hair by hair out of existence.
“Well, guess what? You want war over a tiny matter, a small matter, a matter so insignificant I couldn’t possibly fail to back down? You have it. War it is, on behalf of my get. I would wipe every
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