Chapter Six: The Negotiator

"How is he, Silnok?" Artorius questioned as soon as he and the goblin were alone.

"Much better," the goblin declared, looking pleased. "A young Muggle child reached out to your cousin before he could accomplish his goal…he subsequently sobered up and visited her. We have seen to it that resources to keep him sober are…very available. There is even a place we have quietly made known to him with an excellent reputation in the field of…self-abuse."

Artorius let his breath out in a whoosh and sat down in the chair. "Thank you, Silnok." The goblin inclined his head at the thanks. "And his job?"

"He is hardly fit for Homicide," Silnok replied, turning thoughtful. "We are exploring a number of options and will present what we can, within the limits of the Statute, of course."

"Keep me informed?"

"Certainly, Lord Calvin."

Silnok hardly waited for the door to close before he announced, in a very pleased voice, "Your cousin has found his feet again."

"He's found a new job?" Artorius questioned.

"Yes and no, Lord Calvin…he remains a police officer," as Artorius' shoulders slumped, Silnok went on, "But he has transferred to a new unit…the Strategic Response Unit. That unit will give him a better outlet for his…talents."

"Explain," Artorius requested.

Silnok inclined his head. "Your cousin has a great talent for understanding his fellow human beings; ironically, it is that very talent that likely led to his breakdown. Someone who understands others so easily likely had a great deal of trouble with the…constant…darkness that surrounds homicides, magical or not." A fierce goblin grin. "Now, he can leverage his talent to best advantage, saving lives instead of investigating their loss."

Artorius was not so sure, but at least his cousin was no longer drowning himself in alcohol. That was worth something.

The door closed behind Artorius as he entered the goblin's office. Silnok looked up at him, those new reading glasses of his perched on the goblin's nose. "How is he, Silnok?" Artorius questioned, settling himself in the chair before the desk.

"He is doing quite well, Lord Calvin," Silnok replied. "He has risen to the rank of Sergeant and now commands the SRU's premier team. His teammates are good men and women; they have become his surrogate family. Our fears of eight years ago have not come to pass."

"Thank Aslan," Artorius breathed, leaning forward.

"Lord Calvin?" Silnok questioned, both brows going up.

Artorius sighed heavily, then placed his burden on the desk. "I'm going after them, Silnok. I've compiled everything I can on these fanatics trying to work their way back into power. I can't let it happen again, I can't. If I don't do something, it won't be me who pays, it will be my children."

"You wish me to make copies?" Silnok inquired.

A firm nod. "If-if something happens, get everything to Lord Potter, Silnok. He's the only one I trust with this information. Keep it away from my children and their cousin…they'll have enough to deal with."

"You believe something will happen." It was not a question.

Artorius' eyes rested on the bulging folios he'd piled on the desk. "They won't take this lying down, Silnok, and you and I both know that the estate is a sitting duck if they work at it hard enough and long enough. I don't want to die, but if that's the price to make sure my children are safe, I'll pay it and gladly." Hesitantly, Artorius brought out a stack of letters. "I talked to 'Toria and we're agreed. She's going to try and get out with the kids if something happens, but, just in case, we wrote these. When Lance turns seventeen, give him the letters."

Silnok took the letters and watched as Artorius rose and swept out, head high and back straight. "Aslan bless you and keep you," the goblin murmured, "Aslan make His face shine on you and be gracious to you; Aslan turn His face toward you and give you peace. (1)"

Artorius watched as his children vanished with loyal Mindy. His heart ached and he remembered when they had been born; all the dreams, all the plans, all the hopes he'd had for them. He'd thought to be there with them, to see them grow and learn to soar. Now it was up to his cousin, his cousin who'd lost one family and gained another. Take care of them, cousin, he thought at Greg Parker. I'm trusting you with what's most precious to me.

He and Victoria traded looks. In that moment, he saw the trust she had in him, in the decisions he'd made, and smiled at her. Then Arthur turned to face the front entrance, his wand dropping into his hand. Victoria stepped up beside him.

"Together then," she murmured. I love you and trust you.

"Let this be the hour when we draw swords together," he quoted, smiling at her. I know; love you, too.

"Fell deeds awake," she replied. It's up to our children now.

"Now for wrath." They're going to be okay.

"Now for ruin." We'll see them again, one day.

"And the red dawn," they finished together, twirling their wands up and to the ready.

Artorius smiled grimly. Aslan, watch over them. Keep them safe; keep Greg safe too. As he fought, he poured everything he was into his magic, delaying the Death Eaters as long as possible. He and 'Toria ended up back to back, fighting multiple Death Eaters off at once. 'Toria fell first and he turned, catching her. He drew a breath at her sightless eyes.

"FOR ASLAN AND FOR NARNIA!" he roared, transforming and lunging. A gryphon snarled defiance as he landed on three Death Eaters at once, ripping into them with all of his fury and grief. And when they finally brought him down, fire roared around them, leaving several with horrid burns in addition to the gryphon talon, claw, and beak marks. The gryphon form faded back to human; Artorius left beside his wife as the Death Eaters retreated.

Their children, safely away, would live and would soon be in Toronto, starting a new life far away from England and the war which still, in a very real way, engulfed it. As fire ripped into the once stately home and the Death Eaters fled, satisfied that the threat to their power had been successfully dealt with, the Deep Magic rippled.

What was foolish to man's eyes, the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea turned to His plan; what was weak to man's eyes, He turned to His will and glory; what was low and despised, He lifted up and placed in a position of trust, shaming the wise, the strong, and the boastful. And that was why, in the end, though the Death Eaters won the battle that night, they lost the war; though they dealt with the immediate threat, they created a far greater threat to their power; and, though they believed the young Calvins could do nothing, in the end, the Calvins brought their nice, neat, safe world crashing down around them, piece by piece, with the help of those the purebloods shunned, scorned, and spat on.

~ Fin

[1] Altered version of Numbers 6:24-26