With Gigi out of the picture, regular business began to trickle back in. Nico received requests for demon extermination every few days now, and while the jobs didn't pay much, Nero was thrilled to return to his true calling. With the Nilepoch's return still nearly two weeks away, he needed every warm-up fight he could get. He'd spent a full month out of the game, and though his skills were far from rusty, he knew he'd need to be in top form to face such a dangerous enemy.

When he wasn't hunting the vermin of the underworld, Nero divided his time between catching up on the mundane household tasks he'd been postponing and keeping a watchful eye on Rosso and Zaffiro. By the weekend, Rosso was almost back to his usual self, though he still kept some distance from his brother. Zaffiro remained quiet and withdrawn, and each morning his eyes were hung with the shadows of insomnia.

"Do you think we ought to consider medication?" Kyrie wondered aloud as she and Nero cleaned up the kitchen after Sunday's breakfast. "Or maybe a natural sleep aid? I'm worried that Zaffiro will make himself ill if he continues like this. A boy his age should be sleeping for at least eight to ten hours, and I don't think he's even getting half that."

"I'm not sure knocking him out with drugs is going to improve anything. The dreams are the problem, and medicine can't stop his real memories from coming back."

"I suppose that's true," Kyrie sighed. "I just hate seeing him so worn down. He was always so attentive and interested in learning new things, but I haven't even seen him pick up a book for the past few days." She handed Nero the last plate to dry. "Do you know what happened to him… after?"

"You mean after Eva died? Nothing specific." He glanced back at Lady, still nursing a cup of coffee at the kitchen table. "How about you?"

Lady shook her head. "I didn't meet him until years later. If anyone knows, it'll be Trish. Why?"

"I was just wondering whether it was that same dream troubling him, or if there were new ones each night. It might help us know how to respond if we knew exactly what he was afraid of." Kyrie rinsed and dried her hands before crossing to the telephone. "I should think the hospital can find someone to replace Trish for a couple of hours. I'll invite her to come back here for lunch, and we can talk."

"We'd better do something with of the rest of the kids, then," Nero said. "We definitely don't want them listening in on that conversation."

"Oh, right." She drummed her fingers against the telephone. "How about a picnic lunch? We can send them to the park. I'm sure Julio can keep them out of trouble for a while."

Nero laughed. Julio had entered into Nero's confidence with the enthusiasm of a conspirator, and had been eager for chances to prove himself reliable. "Yeah, I'm sure he can."


When Nero suggested an outdoor lunch at the park a few hours later, the children cheered and bustled eagerly into shoes and coats. Julio waited by the kitchen door until they were out of hearing range. "How long do you need me to keep them busy?" he murmured when Nero handed him the loaded picnic basket.

"An hour should be good," Nero replied. "Thanks."

Rosso was waiting with the rest of the kids when Nero joined them at the door, but Zaffiro was still curled up in a corner of the sofa, where he'd been all morning. Nero detoured to nudge his shoulder. "Hey, why don't you go with them? It's a nice day. Should be perfect picnic weather."

Zaffiro's head twitched from side to side, and Nero suppressed a sigh. "Suit yourself. Okay, kids, you know the rules. Julio's in charge." He watched them romp down the sidewalk after Julio before shutting the door.

Kyrie was readying their own lunch in the kitchen, and Lady was in the room she shared with Flavia, leaving Nero and Zaffiro alone in the front room. Nero circled the couch to make sure Zaffiro could see him clearly—he had been jumpy ever since the onset of his nightmares—and crouched to his eye level. The boy didn't even look at him. "What am I gonna do with you?" Nero murmured. "I know you're scared of something, kid, but I wish I could make you believe that whatever it is isn't here."

It was clear that Zaffiro wasn't listening. Rather, he wasn't listening to Nero. His head was canted to one side, ear turned toward the kitchen. Nero hadn't really noticed that Kyrie was singing to herself as she worked; her sweet voice was such a part of the house, an ever-present element of its welcoming ambiance, that he almost expected to hear it whenever he was home. But something about her singing had clearly arrested Zaffiro's attention, and considering how the boy had kept himself closed off for the past few days, that in itself was noteworthy.

After a minute or so, Kyrie finished her song and moved into the laundry room. Zaffiro turned toward Nero, a crease forming between his eyebrows. "What day is today?"

"Sunday."

Zaffiro's teeth pulled at his lower lip. "Are we still… in trouble?"

What the hell did that mean? Did he think Nero would be angry at him for his bad dreams? "No, of course you aren't in any trouble."

"Then…" The boy met Nero's eyes for the first time since the dreadful night he'd awakened screaming. "I can play violin again?"

Nero nearly tipped over backward in his relief. This was the first thing Zaffiro had asked for in days. Perhaps he was on the road to recovery after all. "Yeah, we can go. How about tomorrow, after breakfast? I'll call to make sure the shop will be open then."

Zaffiro nodded, but a few seconds later his shoulders hitched up in obvious terror, and he twisted to stare at the front door.

"Hey, take it easy," Nero said, automatically reaching for the boy's arms. "What's wrong?"

"Something's coming." Zaffiro's breathing was fast and ragged. "Something is…"

The front door opened. Nero leaped to his feet, power surging into his right arm as he prepared to vault the couch and take on the threat…

Trish stood in the doorway. She lowered her sunglasses, blinked at him, glanced back over her shoulder toward the sidewalk, then cocked her head at him in a visual question. "Is something wrong?"

Nero let the power he'd gathered dissipate and laughed weakly. "No. Nothing's wrong. You just, uh, startled me." He glanced down at Zaffiro, who had entrenched himself deep in the gap between cushions as though he could vanish into the upholstery. "Hey, it's okay. It's just Trish. Why don't you come out and say hello?"

Zaffiro stayed where he was.

Nero sighed and threw up his hands. "Fine, live in the couch if you want to. Lunch is in the kitchen, Trish. How's the leg?"

"Much better." Trish glanced over the back of the sofa as she passed, but made no attempt to engage Zaffiro. "Kyrie said she had some questions for me?"

"Yeah. Go on in; I'll grab Lady and join you in a second."

Trish flashed a sly smile. "Just be careful where you grab her, if you don't want to lose another arm."


It was evident from the way Trish tucked into her food that her appetite had in no way been diminished by days of sitting in a hospital ward eating pizza. "I'm afraid I'm not much help," she said around a mouthful of grilled tomato, after Kyrie had explained Zaffiro's reluctance to sleep. "Most of the memories Mundus extracted were from when Eva died, or much later, when Dante defeated him—forcing Vergil to relive his worst failures, to wear him down. I know that Mundus's servants were searching for both of Sparda's sons, so I imagine Vergil must have been running and hiding from them somehow, but I can't give you any details. I didn't exist yet."

"That leaves about eleven years completely unaccounted for," Lady said. "They were eight when Eva died, and nineteen when I met them. Vergil could have been anywhere in between."

"Ten years," Nero corrected. "We do know when he was here in Fortuna."

"How do we—oh. Of course. I guess that is one fixed point on the timeline."

"I mean, give or take a few months. I don't know my actual birth date."

Kyrie reached over to brush Nero's hand. "Well, if we don't have any way to know what happened during those years, we'll just have to be as supportive as we can, and hope he can overcome his fear with time."

Nero nodded. "He did ask to go play violin again, so that's a good sign. I told him we'd go tomorrow."

"Oh, wonderful!" Kyrie beamed. "Maybe you can take Rosso with you. I'm a little concerned at the way he's been acting, too."

"Yeah. I don't know what to make of that, either." Nero poked at his plate. "You know, this week has not been a great confidence-booster. Factor in figuring out how we're gonna kill the Nilepoch, and I'm zero for three on our crisis front."

"Well, you can't use a gun," Trish said as she liberated another slice of bread from the basket. All eyes swiveled to her, and she raised an eyebrow in return. "On the Nilepoch. Not Rosso, obviously."

"How do you know that?" Lady asked. "Have you fought it?"

"Of course not. Gigi told me."

"She talked to you?" Kyrie's eyes widened. "She wouldn't tell us anything!"

"Well, after three days of truly revolting hospital food, she was just about willing to sell her soul for a slice of the pizza she was smelling." Trish smirked. "I was getting bored just sitting there, and talking seemed a better way to pass the time anyway, so I struck a bargain with her: One slice per honest answer."

"Genius," Lady pronounced. "I never imagined your pizza obsession would actually pay off. What else did she say?"

Trish ticked off answers on her fingers. "She's seventeen; she grew up in a town called Padua, but moved here a couple of years ago; she's seen the Nilepoch twice and fled from it after realizing that she couldn't harm it with her gun. The first time, she was doing some target practice in a warehouse near the docks. Some man ran in after hearing gunfire, and it went after him instead."

"Tonio," Nero breathed.

"The second time was in a different warehouse, and you two caught her as she was trying to escape."

"But who is she?" Nero pressed. "Was she the one who summoned the demons at the orphanage? Why is a kid like that hunting demons at all?"

"I don't know; I ran out of pizza." Trish shrugged. "Though as to your last question, I suspect it's for revenge, because demons killed her family."

"Poor girl," Kyrie sighed. "Did she tell you what happened?"

Trish shook her head. "She didn't say anything about it, but I can tell. The three of you, Dante, even Vergil—you've all lost family to demons. She carries that same weight."

Silence blanketed the table as each of them were drawn reluctantly into memory, but it was soon broken by a soft rustle at the door. Nero looked over to see Zaffiro peering around the corner at them.

"Oh!" Kyrie gasped. "Of course, you didn't go with the others, did you. You must be hungry." She stood and beckoned the boy to a chair. "Here, have a seat and I'll get you some lunch."

The chair she held out was the one beside Trish, and Zaffiro stared at the hunter for a long time before climbing into the seat. Trish did her best to ignore his scrutiny and returned to her meal, but every time she reached for something on the table, Zaffiro jerked back in alarm.

"Relax, kiddo." Nero kept his tone as light as possible. "I know she eats a lot, but she's not gonna steal your food."

Zaffiro's eyes flicked from Nero to Trish. After a moment he slid down and crept over to Kyrie at the stove. "May I eat in the other room?" he whispered.

Kyrie glanced at Nero, who spread his hands in a shrug. "All right," she said after a moment's consideration. "You may eat at the coffee table. Just this once. Bring your silverware, please." She carried the plate out, and Zaffiro darted back to the table to retrieve his utensils, keeping a wary eye on Trish all the while.

When the boy had hurried after Kyrie, Nero slumped back in his chair. "Well, that was random. I don't have a frickin' clue what's going on with that kid."

"I do," Trish said quietly. "He can sense what I am."

"What, he freaks out just because you show up on his devil-radar? He's met you before and it never bothered him."

"That's not it. We know he was hunted by servants of Mundus. He must have learned to sense them coming—not just creatures of the underworld in general, but the forces of Mundus, specifically. Staying one step ahead of the demons that were hunting him is the only way he could have survived."

"So?"

"Mundus created me, Nero. I was an empty vessel, filled with his power. To a child who can barely recognize the subtleties of underworld energy, I am indistinguishable from a servant of Mundus. Because that's what I was."

"Damn." Nero ran a hand through his hair. "So when he sensed you outside earlier, he really thought something was coming for him."

Trish nodded. "And Fortuna is saturated with all kinds of trace energies from what the Order did, and the few demons that are still here. If he's able to sense those, as well…"

"Poor kid," Lady sighed. "No wonder he's on edge, with all that noise in his head. He's probably terrified."

Trish set down her fork and stood. "I shouldn't stay here. Now that they have recovered enough of their memories to be able to recognize demons, my presence will only upset them."

"Trish, you don't have to—"

"It's all right, really," she said hastily. "I'll go back to the hospital and see if I can get some more answers out of Gigi. We can keep in touch by phone, and I'll join you when it's time to hunt the Nilepoch."

Nero nodded. "We'll definitely want you on hand for that."

"Oh, I wouldn't miss it for anything." Trish flashed a smile, and the melancholy that had settled over her all but vanished. "In the mean time, there is a girl languishing in the hospital with only boiled vegetables and reconstituted starch products to eat. Make a list of all the questions you want answered, and I'll see how many pizzas it takes."


The children returned from their picnic an hour later, chattering loudly about knights and dragons. Kyrie made a valiant attempt to settle them down so the youngest kids would take their afternoon naps, but they showed no signs of calming. Lady quickly sought refuge in the kitchen, where Nero was engaged in scrubbing some burned residue off of the stove top. "Mind if I hide out in here until there's a little less chaos in the house?"

Nero laughed. "I admire your optimism."

"They've got to stop and breathe eventually." Lady dropped into a chair and opened the book she'd been reading. "You know, I've been looking through some of the Order's reference materials, and they're actually quite interesting. Did you know that—" She broke off suddenly as Julio entered the kitchen, arms wrapped around the picnic basket. His hair was mussed, and he looked a bit overwhelmed.

"Here, let me get that." Nero tossed the rag he'd been using on the stove into the sink and took the basket from Julio. "How'd it go?"

"Pretty good, but everyone was really wound up for some reason." Julio went to the sink and washed his hands. "After trying to keep them all in line on the way home, I think I may need a nap. Or at least some time to read in peace."

Nero chuckled. "Good luck finding a quiet spot in this house."

Without being asked, Julio began helping Nero unpack the basket. "I guess I could always go back to the park. It was pretty empty, for being a weekend. The only other person there was this weird old guy."

"Oh? What was weird about him?"

"Well, even though it was a nice day, he had a big white hood on. But not like a hoodie. It was like a separate thing that covered his shoulders, too."

"That sounds like an Order cowl. A few years ago, almost everybody here wore those, at least on ceremonial days. He's probably just one of those people who couldn't let go of the Order's teachings after following them their whole lives. Was he pretty old?"

"I guess. I mean, I couldn't see his face under the hood, but he walked with a cane, so probably." The boy shrugged. "I guess maybe he wasn't all that weird, really. I mean, all he did was sit on a bench and watch us play, and people do that all the time. I just thought the hood was strange."

"Yeah, he's probably just some lonely old man. If he's still clinging to the Order ways, I doubt he has a lot of close friends or family. Maybe it just made him feel better to watch you kids all having fun."

"Aw, that's sad." Julio frowned. "Now I wish I'd gone over to talk to him. By the time we were finished with our game he'd gone, though."

Nero reached over Julio's head to set the empty basket on top of the refrigerator. "Hey, speaking of games, what's all that dragon business about? The kids have been talking nonstop ever since they got back."

"Everyone finished eating really quick, so I made up a game. We pretended the jungle gym was a castle and the picnic basket was a treasure. One person played the dragon guarding the treasure, and everyone else was a knight. If you got tagged by the dragon, you had to go back to the edge of the playground and start over, but if you reached the basket, you won and got to be the next dragon."

"That's a pretty awesome game. You come up with that yourself?"

Julio gave a modest shrug. "I had to think of something everyone could play together. Flavia's too little to play football or tag, but she's really good at climbing." He hesitated before adding, "There was something weird, though. Actually weird, not just guy-in-a-hood weird."

"What?"

"Well, everyone who was playing a knight had to be called Sir. You know, Sir Carlo, Sir Kyle… but Rosso insisted on being called Sir Tony."

Something about that name sounded familiar, but Nero couldn't quite place it. "Tony?"

"Yeah. Even all the way back to the house, he wanted us to call him Tony. When I asked him why, he just said that's his name now. I don't get it."

Nero glanced at Lady, who shrugged and shook her head. "Well, it's probably not a big deal." Nero shook off the nagging memory and returned his attention to the picnic supplies. "Maybe he just really liked playing make-believe."

By the time they'd finished putting away the leftover food and dishes, the house was much quieter. Nero thanked Julio for his help and sent him off to read. When he'd gone, Lady glanced up from her book. "So. Tony? What do you suppose that's about?"

"I'm trying to figure that out." Nero drummed his fingers on the counter. "Hang on a second. I'll be right back." He went out to the garage and rifled through the van until he found a crumpled sheaf of papers, crammed into a drawer a year ago and utterly forgotten in the aftermath of the Qliphoth disaster. "Bingo."

In the kitchen, Lady looked up as Nero dropped the papers beside her book. "Morrison sent me this last year, just after everything kicked off in Red Grave City. Take a look."

She skimmed the missive, and her eyebrows rose when she reached the relevant passage. "Tony Redgrave?"

"Yeah. I don't know when he started using that alias, but maybe while Vergil was on the run from Mundus's forces, Dante just changed his name and hid in plain sight."

"It makes a certain amount of sense. I've actually heard of Tony Redgrave—at least, I've heard the name from some of my sleazier underworld contacts—but I never associated him with Dante. I always thought he was just some mercenary." Lady kept reading, and she blew out a long breath. "Morrison was very free with his information, wasn't he."

Belatedly, Nero recalled that the letter had talked about Lady, as well. "I, uh… I don't think he meant anything by it…"

"It's fine." Lady dropped the letter and sighed again. "It's not like he said anything that wasn't true."

Nero gathered the crumpled papers and folded them together. His eyes landed on the scrawl near the bottom of the page: …mentioned something about them each having killed family. Dante, his brother... and Lady, her father.

He glanced sideways at Lady, considering her last statement. Suddenly Lady's plea for Nero to walk away instead of confronting Vergil after he'd learned he was his father made a hell of a lot more sense. You never recover from that, she'd said. He wondered if her admission that it was true meant that she wanted to talk about it.

But Lady picked up her book and turned away, clearly signaling that there was nothing further to discuss.