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Chapter 244: Unbirthday
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Tucker woke up half expecting to be buried in sand. He was sweating and tangled intractably in the blankets on the bed. Danny, who usually acted as a permanently cool pillow for him and Sam, was nowhere in sight. He must have slipped off to do kingly things.
Sorry, princely things.
(Danny didn't think he was actually fooling anyone with that, did he?)
(Who knew? Danny could be surprisingly adept at the ancient art of denial.)
He crawled out of bed and started to get dressed for the day. He automatically slung his quiver over his shoulder, grimaced as he realized it wasn't a good time to practice and put it back down. Something in his eyes itched. Sleep sand. Not real sand. That felt ever so slightly different.
Tucker was, admittedly, getting tired of these hotel-room-esque living conditions. Yeah, it was a nice setup, but… It was grating. Especially when his dreams of home were mixed with sweeping Egyptian palaces under a burning sun.
Something in him twisted with odd, uneven need. Maybe he should talk to Danny about that. It felt like a liminal thing. Would it get stronger (he didn't want to say worse) if he did that pilgrimage Ereshkigal had given the blessing to go on?
The hinges of the door squeaked as Danny let himself in, head hanging and fatigue written all over his face. Damien and Fright Knight followed with much more energy.
"Hi, Tucker," he said.
"Hey, Tucker!" said Damien, brightly, hanging off of Danny's shoulders.
In his defense, he was unlikely to be putting any more weight on them, given that he was floating, his shroud billowing behind him.
Fright Knight, meanwhile, meticulously checked over the room and the attached bathroom, humming slightly.
"So," said Danny, "apparently your parents can go with you to Egypt. Your Egypt. Duulaman's Kemet. Yeah. They just need to decide…" He waved behind him. "A few things back there and pick someone to have their votes. I think they're going to pick Mr. Lancer.
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William blinked back tears. He didn't know why. He was incredibly overemotional these days. It probably had something to do with the incredible and unremitting stress he was under. Especially now that most of his students were no longer here.
"I am honored by the trust you're showing me," said Mr. Lancer.
"Well, we do trust you to take care of Tucker during the normal course of things, so, this isn't that much of a stretch," said Mrs. Foley. "You put a lot of care into your work."
"Not that it kept him from finding trouble," grumbled Mr. Foley before being elbowed by Mrs. Foley.
"Thank you for taking care of this for us, William." She sighed, putting a hand to her cheek. "Honestly, I feel like we took on a responsibility and now we're leaving right away."
"They said it was fine," grumbled Mr. Foley, rubbing his bruised ribs.
"Well, it does seem as if Danny is going to be here for quite some time," said William. "My task will be rather light, all things considered."
"Yeah, the way ghosts divide custody is certainly… something," said Mr. Foley. "Here's to hoping Tucker isn't going to need arrangements like this in… fake Egypt."
"It isn't fake, Maurice."
"But it isn't real Egypt, either."
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Danny blinked as something like nausea filled his throat and carefully put down his cup of tea. Something was wrong. Not only that, but the wrongness felt familiar. Recently familiar. He swallowed.
"What was that?"
"Oh, dear," said Clockwork, which was not something one wanted to hear from their semi-omniscient adopted grandfather.
"What is it?" asked Danny, a little more insistently this time.
"It seems that the… warp caused by the GIW weapon, the one Nephthys, Sojourn and I attempted to clean up, is more resilient than I originally believed."
A sharp glassy pain shot through Danny's leg. The GIW-caused vortex wasn't the only thing coming back, it seemed. He shifted his weight.
"Cool. So. Manmade natural disaster."
"Well, yes," said Clockwork. "But it's hardly your fault."
Clockwork certainly knew how to hit the proverbial nail on the head, didn't he? Or, at least, he knew Danny well enough to catch him before he leapt head-first into self-blame.
"It is my responsibility, though, isn't it? I mean, ultimately, what with being prince and all."
"That is a much healthier way to look at it, assuming you do not start using 'responsibility' as a synonym with 'fault.'"
Guilty of exactly that, Danny avoided Clockwork's gaze. "How do we fix this?" he asked.
"I am unsure, as of yet," said Clockwork, frowning into the distance, his own tea forgotten in his hand. "However, there were some scholars who were working on devising counters to the weapons used by the GIW in their defense of their headquarters. Particularly the disruptor antennas, for which they have samples, but several may be focusing on the portal bomb instead." Clockwork finally put down his tea. "If nothing else, knowing precisely how the warp came to be may aid in repairing it."
"I don't suppose any of them are here? At Libra, I mean."
Clockwork made a face. "With the exception of Mar and Lie of the Wonder Door, who have been acting as a messenger, and those who remained in the human world for study purposes or to continue supporting the raids against the GIW, I believe that all the academics who were part of Skulker's army have returned home."
"That'd be Method and the Drowned Quarter, right?"
"Indeed, that is where the majority are from, although there are certainly other locations, like the Library of Tongues. There may yet be some historians lingering. I do not keep close track of them."
"I guess I should start writing letters, then. Do you think I could get Technus to try to set up a phone system in here?"
"Perhaps. Do you mean Libra or the Infinite Realms as a whole?"
"The Infini—Actually, never mind. That's a tangent."
"It's fine to have tangents," said Clockwork, as Danny got up and started searching the small tearoom for something resembling stationary.
"I've got to get this letter started before I forget," said Danny.
Clockwork sighed. "Daniel," he said.
Danny turned. Clockwork was holding a notepad out to him, along with a pen. "Oh," said Danny. "Thanks." He sat back down. "Right. What do we say?"
"It may be better if I compose the technical portion of the letter, with regards to the details of the warp," said Clockwork, producing his own notepad.
"You have been teaching me about stuff," protested Danny, "I can take it."
"I have no doubt," said Clockwork, "but you are about to have a very distracting revelation which will occupy your attention."
They waited.
"Um," said Danny, "I'm not having any revelations."
"No, no, let's give it another minute."
Again, they waited. Silently. Awkwardly.
"Why don't you just tell me what the revelation is?" he asked, even though that sort of felt like cheating.
Clockwork looked to the side. "Jasmine is currently eighteen."
"Yes?" said Danny. Her age was a point in the custody hearing.
Clockwork raised an eyebrow.
Blood drained from Danny's face. "Her birthday. Oh my gosh, I missed her birthday—"
Panicked, he threw himself out of the room, leaving behind both his notepad and his tea. Clockwork sighed and took a sip from his own cup. He might be the Master of Time, but he couldn't help but feel like peaceful moments like this were becoming rarer and rarer.
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Danny slid into Libra's record room. "I need to find someone who can plan parties," he said, out of breath.
"Uhm," said the clerk monitoring the room, clearly taken aback. "What kind of party? Political? Recreational?"
Astraea, who had been retrieving a file from a shelf, inclined her head in his general direction. "Parties? Are you celebrating your separation from—"
Danny blinked as she seemed to speak static. "I don't know what language it is."
"My apologies, I forgot that the Disjoint Tree works both ways. But are you celebrating the results of the trial? The custody hearing?"
"I missed my sister's birthday. It's an emergency."
"Birthday? I am – Is that at all similar to a Death Day? In terms of the relevant culture, I mean."
"Sort of? Not really. But it's bad that I missed it. I didn't even give her a gift! What kind of a brother am I? I'm a fraud, a fraud, I tell you."
"Phantom," said Astraea, "Danny, please, you are not a fraud, and I am quite certain that your sister bears you no ill will. Is this Jasmine or Danielle?"
"Jazz," said Danny, miserably.
"I don't think I'll be able to help," said the clerk. "We don't sort by Obsessions. That would be discriminatory."
"Oh no," said Danny as hope left him. Hope returned a moment later. "Obsessions aren't everything! I'll plan this party myself!" He tore back out of the room.
Damien flew in a moment later. "Have you seen Danny? He seemed really upset about something?"
"He just left."
"Did you see which—Oh, oops. I'm sorry. Do you know which way he went?"
"We actually do not mind that idiom," said Astraea.
"So, did you-?"
"We did not."
"Okay, thanks." He flew back out.
A few moments later, Fright Knight flew in. "Have you seen-?"
Astraea and the clerk both pointed.
"Thank you."
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Jazz walked into the room, practicing holding her swords with her ghost hands, and shrieked as her brothers, her sisters, Tucker, and several ancient ghosts who really should know better, jumped out from various hiding places.
"Happy birthday!" said her original little brother, whom she was going to double kill at the soonest possible opportunity.
"Oh, my goshhhh," she said, trying to bring her breathing and heart rate down to a more normal rate. On the other side of the room, Fright Knight attempted to pull Soul Shredder from the wall Jazz had flung it into when she'd been surprised. "You don't scare people who are carrying weapons unless you want to die."
"Tucker is the only one here who's a hundred percent alive in the first place," said Danny.
"Is that really how that works?" asked Damien.
"Probably? Look, man, life is weird."
"I can attest to that," said Nephthys.
"What do you even… Is that a cake?"
"Not just a cake!" said Danny. "A birthday cake!"
"But. It isn't my birthday."
"I know. We missed it." Danny looked like he was on the verge of tears.
"Oh. Well. That's not your fault," said Jazz. "Um. Thank you for the cake. And the…" She looked around the room at the very sincere but somehow still lopsided decorations that she had earlier dismissed as just some extra ghostly charm. "Party?" she guessed.
"No problem!" said Danny, grinning. "Tucker's going to have to go in about an hour, though."
"That's when I'm going to Egypt."
"Ghost Egypt," clarified Danny, as if that were ever in doubt.
Jazz sighed deeply but did it with a smile. "Alright," she said. "Let's party."
