Chapter: Voluntary Prisoners: 17 of ?
Author: Sam
Series: A Deeper Magic
Last Chapter: Lavender is injured. They meet with Az, Dylan, Jeb, Toto, and Mariah. They get help from a small hamlet. Az has a mental breakdown.
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Stepping quickly in her stockings, DG followed Wyatt out into the hall and to the steps. She had no problems escaping barefoot; she's often gone without footwear on the farm back in Kansas. As she listened for the sound of guards, she wondered why Randu had missed taking the other room key; didn't he know all married staff had suites? Her eyes widened at the thought that he probably had no idea since he was apparently single and would have had no reason to go to the floors reserved for couples. His lack of knowledge had been to their advantage . . . and showed promisingly weak human failings in the Long Coat commander.
As they made their way down to the next level, Wyatt froze in front of her, hand going out to prevent her from stumbling down the steps. She looked up at him, frowning, but not wanting to draw unwanted attention by speaking. He looked over the rail and she followed suit. A pair of Long Coats stood by the door of the level, talking quietly. A sound came from their hallway and both turned and hurried through the door.
Wyatt looked back at her, his eyes intense, as they always were when he was in his protective mode . . . which was pretty much all the time, in DG's opinion. DG merely nodded at him, signaling that she was ready to continue. He nodded back and turned to lead her down the steps, carefully keeping an eye out for more guards.
They made it to ground level before they encountered anyone else. Rounding the landing, they came upon two people: a woman dressed in tattered, stained clothes and a man with bandages wrapped around his head, trying to keep a robe from sliding off as it was untied and only on one arm.
"Glitch," DG whispered to Wyatt's back and he nodded.
Speaking in a stage whisper, Wyatt said "Glitch! Up Here!"
"Do I know you?" he asked, voice indignant, brown eyes flashing, as he looked up at the pair.
Wyatt rolled his eyes and responded, "Okay . . . Ambrose."
Something seemed to flash in Ambrose's eyes, and he sounded stunned. "Cain!" Suddenly, a look of worry and puzzlement crossed his pale face.
DG stepped around Wyatt and said, "Ambrose, come with us." She made her voice urgent, hoping he would respond.
The advisor blinked and nodded, though he looked confused, and took a shaky step up, the bedraggled woman supporting him. Wyatt shook his head, his voice low as he said "they aren't fit to travel, DG. They'll never get out of here." He quickly sprinted down the steps to wrap a strong arm around Ambrose's other side and almost heaved the patient back up the stairs. "Trust me," he added as Ambrose stiffened in apparent offense.
Worry lit her vivid blue eyes, and DG nodded. "Let's get them back to the suite, Wyatt. We can hide them there." She turned, carefully pulling Wyatt's revolver from the gun belt she still wore.
This time, DG took the lead, watching carefully for any Long Coats. They climbed the four flights back to their suite in tense difficulty, Ambrose practically collapsing once they reached the level, and the woman little better. Fortunately they made it unchallenged. The princess took the unknown woman's arm, receiving a sweet smile in return, and guided her to their suite and in. Wyatt followed quickly with Ambrose and slid him onto the bed.
"Stay here. I'm going to get him some clothes." Wyatt slipped back out of the room.
The young princess nodded in return, holstering the revolver, then turned to Ambrose. DG kept her voice carefully quiet as she tentatively asked "Do you remember me, Ambrose?" Even though she'd seen him just that morning, he looked far paler, weaker than he had in his sleep.
Ambrose blinked and rolled his dark eyes upward, enthusiastically claiming "of course I do . . . you're DG . . ." Instantly, he looked worried. "Why? Did I say something odd?"
"No Glitch . . . uh . . . Ambrose. You're fine." DG smiled widely at the man and hugged him gently. She turned to the unknown woman in grey.
Not letting DG ask, the woman straightened, standing there in her dirty torn clothes, and said "I'm Leona. You're not dead then? Did we bury someone else by accident?"
The younger woman shook her head. "No . . ." She studied her cousin from dirty bare feet to tangled hair. "Uh . . . the coffin was empty. Mother sent me into hiding so the witch thought I was dead." Looking her over again, as the other woman smiled and nodded in apparent understanding, DG frowned. "Let me get you some clothes."
DG turned and hurried into the connecting room, pulling clothes from the armoire. She brought back a matching skirt and blouse of deep maroon with gold trim, leaving out the shaper or stockings but also retrieving underclothes for the older woman.
Delight lit Leona's face and she seemed to vibrate as she carefully took the clothing from DG. Without a word, she carried them into the bathroom, leaving the door open . . . either in a need of protection from the others or forgetting the need for privacy. Leona stripped. Her body was covered practically head to toe in bruises, lashes, and some deep gashes, not the least was the one that had been readily visible on her shoulder. The woman ran hot water into the hipbath in the bathroom, stepped in, and began to bath gingerly.
Suddenly recalling the first time she'd heard her cousin's name mentioned, DG turned and smiled gently at Ambrose. Softly she said "I like your Leona . . ." She hesitated, unsure what to call him after his reaction to the name 'Glitch' then his apparent reversion back to the forgetful friend she'd had.
Ambrose groaned softly as if in pain and put a hand to his bandaged head. "Stars forbid . . . she's not my anything, Princess."
"Don't call me that . . ." but DG stopped herself and sighed. "You used to call me 'DG' . . . I liked that. But then I used to call you 'Glitch'."
Surprised and looking a bit troubled, his brown eyes meet her blue. "We did?" After a moment, sudden inspiration lit his face and he eagerly said "my missing eight annuals!"
Before she could confirm his suspicion, the hall door opened and the tall figure of Wyatt walked in. He carried some clothes, a royal uniform among them, though he hanged that up in the armoire immediately. The Tin Man frowned at the pair. "Look, Ambrose, you need to be quieter. I could hear you in the hall, and we've got a battalion of Long Coats out there looking for both of you."
Ambrose narrowed his eyes. Sounding insulted, but speaking lower, he asked "what do you mean?"
"Remember," DG put her hand over his sleeve, watching as he tried to keep the robe from slipping off his shoulder, "the Long Coats invaded. We're prisoners here."
"Prisoners roaming free . . ." Leona sounded amused as she stepped into the room, her long dark hair covered by a towel. She had dressed in the loose blouse and skirt DG provided. "Randu must be livid . . . prisoners are harder to control if they aren't locked up." Leona studied the room, a look of interest on her tanned face, bruising evident now that she had washed away the dirt.
The room contained a delicate looking vanity table and chair next to a dainty looking armoire, almost dwarfed by the bulk of Cain. Seemingly a pale mirror of the connected one, this room's colors were lighter, the furniture more feminine seeming. "This looks unused . . . unusual for the lady's chamber in a suite . . . or is it the infant's room?" The older princess looked at DG.
Not letting DG respond, Wyatt handed a pair of pajamas to Ambrose and turned to Leona. "What do you know of Randu's plans?" He had pitched his voice low, but no one could mistake the urgency in his request.
Leona plopped onto the bed and smiled at the handsome man in the guard uniform. "Are you DG's Tin Man?"
Ambrose answered her, sounding like he felt the answer was obvious, but still remembering to whisper, "of course he is, Leona . . . or . . ." a puzzled look crossed his pale face and he glanced around the lady's room, clutching the patient's robe as it slipped from his shoulder again, "her husband?"
DG opened her mouth to correct the advisor, but Wyatt interrupted too quickly saying, "yes, her Tin Man and her husband, Leona." DG knew he didn't trust as easily as she did; he must be suspicious of Leona's true allegiances.
The blond turned to the other man and practically growled, "come on, Ambrose, let me help you." Surprisingly gentle, but with a steady strength those around him often came to rely on, he helped Ambrose from the bed and guided him into the bathroom. Like Leona before them, despite the lack of privacy, Wyatt left the door open as he cleaned the man.
Noticing his weakness, DG frowned, knowing Ambrose had needed more than a few hours recovery after brain surgery. At least here in the O.Z. there had been magic to help him recover as much as he had. Despite the rapid healing, she knew they wouldn't be able to sneak Ambrose out that day and perhaps not the next. She judged that by the way Wyatt helped so attentively, the Tin Man knew it as well.
After Wyatt helped Ambrose to dress in the pajamas, the Tin Man guided the advisor back to the bed, where Ambrose sat in apparent relief. He turned a sunny smile up at Cain, thanking him softly, apparently at the end of his strength, though his eyes remained bright and interested in his surroundings. He lay down on the mattress.
With only a nod, Wyatt walked into the connecting room and rooted through the armoire, pulling out his fedora. He brought it back and dropped it on the vanity table. "Here, keep this handy to put over your bandages."
DG favored Wyatt with an approving smile, and Wyatt blinked then looked away, frowning. She could tell he didn't think what he did was anything special, but she felt it was a true sign of his friendship with the confused, weakened man. Ambrose would need something to protect and hide his bandages once they made a bid for freedom.
Retrieving the chair from the vanity and bringing it to the bed, DG sat down, watching Ambrose and Leona get comfortable in the full-sized bed, Leona sitting propped against the headboard while Ambrose lay thankfully on the pillows.
Wyatt, apparently not bothered by being left standing, in fact seeming to prefer it, walked to the hall door. He pulled out both keys and compared them to the door. Finally, he locked the hall door and returned to the bedside, placing the key in the fedora for later. "Keep that locked as much as possible so the Long Coats leave you alone. I don't want anyone stumbling in on you while you're resting." He turned his intense crystal blue gaze on DG and sighed. "We'll have to wait until they've recovered further." He dropped the bathroom key into his pocket where it clanked against his closed straight razor.
Springing to her feet in a burst of frustrated energy, DG hurried to the small window over-looking the dry, cracked land below. Turning her back to the desolate view, she leaned against the sill and studied her two best friends and her cousin. Softly, she said, "I only hope Arista can get that message to Jeb."
xxx
Wyatt suppressed the urge to go to DG and comfort her. He could feel her worry from halfway across the room, not just for the injured pair, but for her family and friends out seeking help. Unused to letting his emotions rule him, Wyatt fell back on his strict law enforcement training, turning to interrogate the other princess. "What do you know about Randu's plan, Leona," he asked a second time. Wyatt didn't bother with titles or etiquette: he sensed this woman would be just as dismissive as her cousin about such niceties in the face of danger.
As he had thought, Leona didn't seem to mind. She looked up at him, responding, "he showed up at my home with eleven other men about two or three days ago." She gave a shrug as DG sank onto the chair. "He told me that the people wanted me to rule." Suddenly, Leona straightened, for once looking like the regal princess she was, and spat out angrily, "I refused his absurd idea. He hit me." She carefully pushed her hair away from the ear on the left; a swollen nasty bruise was barely visible among the dark tresses.
Wyatt moved to her side of the bed and gently checked the injury with careful fingers. He'd seen hundreds of domestic violence and assault cases during his time as an officer in the Sin District, before being tapped as a Tin Man. Based on past experience, he determined the severe injury was probably three days old . . . and would definitely have been a heavy enough blow to knock the smaller woman unconscious; fortunately she hadn't bled to death internally . . . though there was still a question of possible brain damage. Anger filled him and Wyatt tamped it down; he finally started believing she, too, was a victim of Randu and not a partner.
The older woman confirmed his unspoken decision by saying, "I woke up in a room near the Kells River. He tried to force me to have sex, but I fought him off by cutting him . . . across the pelvis just above his 'furry bits'." Her tone sounded so casual, as if she recited a list of books she'd read or plants she'd pruned.
Wyatt clenched his fists, hiding the obvious sign of his anger behind his back; no woman should ever be so used to violence as to sound that casual about her own assault.
DG looked surprised, either by her attitude or by her words, Wyatt couldn't be sure. Ambrose outright flushed bright red, though the Tin Man couldn't tell if it was embarrassment or anger on the part of the royal advisor. For his part, Wyatt attempted to remain stoic looking, letting the woman tell the story her own way without giving off any distressing or distracting signals. He wanted the absolute, if painful, truth.
"I should have just cut the thing off," Leona added, causing Ambrose to wince.
Wyatt merely nodded, mentally storing the information that Randu was injured, possibly quite badly.
Leona sounded frustrated as she added "he took my knife and tied me up . . . I think he slipped something into my food . . . because he'd been feeding me when he attacked."
It was hard to follow her convoluted dissertation, but Wyatt nodded again. "Go on," he said softly, as DG put a hand over her cousin's, earning a smile from the older woman.
Brilliant blue eyes met identical ones as both woman looked at each other. Nodding, as if answering some unspoken question, Leona said, "I passed out . . . I think he was too hurt to do anything." Softly, as if in afterthought, sounding a bit frightened, she repeated, "I think." She looked very troubled.
Just as troubled, Wyatt worried that she could have been raped while drugged unconscious or just after she'd been hit. A man that would lie with a woman who couldn't respond, as if she were just some inanimate object, had no conscience, no soul, in the Tin Man's opinion. That was as bad as a man who took pleasure from hurting a woman.
Leona's tone remained soft, worried, as she continued with her story, a story Wyatt wished had ended long before. "When I woke up this morning he had a battalion with him . . . I peeked out of the cart he had me in . . . under a tarp that smelled of fish of all things." She shuddered and suddenly her face cleared into an odd smile, as if her troubles were forgotten. The lightning-quick attitude change worried Wyatt more than her display of fear; he wondered if somehow the last few days had unhinged the princess above and beyond her possible brain injury.
Meeting Wyatt's eyes, Leona leaned forward a bit, as if just then getting to the crux of the matter. "He asked another man how he could let a bunch of mermaids win a battle with trained soldiers. I didn't hear the rest, but I know that means his troops attacked Aquam Clan . . . and lost so far." She grinned wickedly, "which makes sense because all they have to do is touch someone." Absently, she added, "of course, if the person is magical the Aquam would have to drown them instead, since their ice poison only works on non-magical people."
"One of my collars would knock the magic right out of them," commented Ambrose, sounding bitter after the horrors they'd just heard.
"Collars?" DG prompted, but Ambrose merely looked back at her blankly.
He smiled almost whimsically. "What? Is there something on my shirt? Jacket?" He looked down at the softly striped yellow and blue pajamas he wore, a look of puzzlement coming to his face.
Wyatt rolled his eyes. The surgery might have reunited the advisor's brain, turning him back into the genius he once had been, but now Ambrose glitched in reverse . . . rather than sporadic moments of inspiration, he was having moments of sheer idiocy. Tamping down his own frustration, Wyatt explain to DG, "Magic-suppression collars to aid in surgery on magical people. It blocks them from accidentally doing magic and hurting the surgeons."
Ambrose opened his mouth, clarity coming into his eyes, but Wyatt cut him off, bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand: Randu. "So Randu's not just taking over Lux, but Aquam, too."
Leona nodded. "I suspect since he's that ambitious, he'll try for all the clans. He wants to rule them all." She crossed her arms and looked disgruntled, like a child who'd lost her favorite toy. "Might as well just take all the gems while he's at it."
Somehow DG's quick mind had linked the take-over plot with what Randu had said earlier that morning. "So why does he want a baby if he can just take over with force?"
Impressed at her relevant conclusion, Wyatt answered "because he's not stupid . . ." but Ambrose interrupted.
"In case he fails as he did with the Aquam. Once he has a royal child, he'll be able to claim the child needs a guardian to make decisions before it gets old enough to rule on its own behalf . . . so Radmu can claim the right of Royal Consort, in this case as parent not spouse, and effectively take over as ruler."
Unsure whether Ambrose had glitched again concerning their enemy's name, Wyatt turned a sharp look on him. The bandaged man seemed totally unaware of either the error or the Tin Man's scrutiny.
"He can take the kid if he kills the mother," DG added.
Wincing, Wyatt clarified, "he won't need to kill Leona, DG. The father has equal rights to his child and can claim the mother unfit if she delivers out of wedlock."
"What!" incensed, she whirled on him, on the edge of the delicate chair. "How? That's insane? What about her rights?"
Leona touched DG's arm and said harshly, "by purposely denying a baby the rightful father in marriage, she can be considered negligent of a child's well being." At DG's head shake, the older woman added, "of course, if a father refuses to marry a pregnant woman, he is the neglectful one and can be imprisoned for abuse."
Apparently that news came as a shock, too, and DG surged to her feet. "That's . . . insane! What if she was raped?"
Not surprised that this woman raised on the Other Side had trouble with their legal procedures, Wyatt calmly tried to explain. "It's assumed that if she was raped, she'd have gone to the authorities to report the attack. What woman would hide such a horrendous assault?"
Rather than comforting her about their progressive laws, the news seemed to incense DG further. "'And if she's embarrassed or ashamed?"
Crystal blue eyes widening, confused by DG's odd thinking, Wyatt asked, "why would she be if she's a victim? No one faults a woman when a man attacks her . . ."
"What?" To his surprise she advanced on him. "And I thought you knew people, Cain . . . you were a cop! Of course people blame the woman . . . say she asked for it . . ." her voice rose in indignation.
Leona gripped her cousin's arm in an apparent attempt to quiet her. The younger woman merely turned her glare to her cousin. Leona softly said "DG . . . I don't know who raised you, but they lied to you. At least in Lux and Nature Clans, rape is seen as the fault of the attacker, not the victim." The older woman shook her head. "In many clans, I would say. What true barbarians must have raised you, my love . . ."
As DG opened her mouth again, Wyatt quietly interjected, "she's right, DG. In the O.Z. rape is one of the more seriously dealt with crimes . . . with a punishment of imprisonment, forced castration, even death if the victim's a minor. You're not on the Other Side anymore." He shook his head, keeping his tone even, reasonable. "Sounds like they have a screwed up sense of justice," he added, trying to help her see the difference.
Apparently it didn't work. DG snapped her mouth shut, her thoughts chasing through vivid, enraged blue eyes . . . such expressive eyes, in Wyatt's opinion, though he shook off the distraction. After a very long moment in which she studied the Tin Man, she quietly said, "you said Long Coats were known to rape single woman . . . Wyatt. Don't they get punished?"
"They would be," Ambrose jumped in, his voice as bitter as DG's for once," if they weren't protected by the witch . . ." Suddenly he looked surprised, "but, wait, the witch is gone now isn't she?"
Wyatt nodded. "Exactly. The Long Coats will start being punished for any new crimes . . . but that doesn't mean we should take chances that they won't be in power as long as last time and protected from true justice." He met DG's eyes, trying to silently convey why their cover story of a new marriage was so important to her safety.
Apparently, the younger woman had begun to understand. She softly said, "so, if Randu raped Leona," her eyes turned to her cousin, radiating worry and sympathy, "he shouldn't be able to claim the kid, right?"
Wyatt exchanged a look with Ambrose and Leona then sighed and said, "if she claims to have been raped, and if she can prove she's not just saying it to deny him his rights, DG." At the sudden flare of anger in her eyes, he raised a hand. "The accuser always has to prove the crime . . . I'm not sure how the Other Side does things, but in the OZ, the people are assumed innocent until proven guilty."
The explanation didn't seem to appease her, so Leona added "Which is why all good courts have a trusted Viewer or three to read the people involved. The Royal Court also would have a twelve person jury with a member from each clan to hear the charges and counter evidence."
Suddenly DG seemed to accept that their justice system wasn't as corrupt as she had apparently been used to, though Wyatt couldn't figure out why the arrangement of the court would sooth her instead of the actual laws. She crossed her arms and nodded. "Then it should be fine. Randu won't be able to . . ."
"No," Ambrose interrupted quickly, shaking his head then wincing and putting a hand to his bandages. "If Leona was drugged, she won't remember being raped. It'll be assumed legally that if she refutes Randu's claim then the man she recalls having sex with the closest to her conception date is the true father, unless someone gets help from the Papay to read her." He glanced at Leona then back at DG, his voice vibrating slightly in the effort to convey the importance of this law procedure. "The Papay can see into the unconscious physical and pull out the body's memory, much more powerfully than the viewers who deal with mental and emotional memories." He sighed and added, "Or course a viewer would be needed afterwards to read the heart and mental memories, and a Spiritizan is needed to read the infant's genetics and . . ."
"Whoa!" DG's eyes widened looking at the royal advisor. "That takes the cooperation . . ."
"Yes," Leona stated, for the moment sounding lucid and even logical, "practically all the clans will get involved, which is why the Royal Court uses one of each on jury. Parental challenges usually go straight to the Royal Court and get resolved only when all clans cooperate. With war or disharmony, Randu will be able to claim father's rights without much contention."
"Unless Leona voluntarily has sex with someone else as close to the rape as possible. Then the viewers and Papay will pick up that man as the father, and . . ." Ambrose turned widening brown eyes on the woman, though he didn't finish his thoughts.
She smiled cheerfully back at him, as if once more unaware of the magnitude of the discussion and the ramifications of Randu's possible attacks. Wyatt wasn't sure if she was insane, incapacitated, or just idiotic.
"Right," DG said slowly, studying her cousin, her eyes burning with inner fire. Finally, she said, "Okay, I wasn't raised here so I missed out on a lot. The court system makes some sense for this, even if I have trouble believing it. But, can someone explain this magic thing? I don't know which clan does what. Maybe that would make this easier . . ."
The sound of heavy boots in the hall interrupted the conversation and sent both Wyatt and DG hurrying into the other room. Wyatt closed the washroom door behind them. DG slipped onto the bed as Wyatt quickly removed his jacket and tossed it on the dressing table chair. He sat on the bed and began removing his boots. This time, Wyatt planned to make Randu think DG was certainly off limits.
The hall door swung open as the Tin Man worked on his second boot. As suspected Randu stood there, smiling congenially. "Lieutenant . . . Cain," he stressed the name and Wyatt let himself flush, reaching for his first boot.
"Sir!"
The Long Coat commander laughed lightly. "No, no, Lieutenant, I've given you the day off, remember?" He strode in and placed a large tray of food, enough for two, on the dressing table. Turning, he seemed to notice the gun at DG's waist then raised an eyebrow in apparent amused surprised. "Role playing, my dear Mrs. . . . Cain?"
As DG colored up at the implications, Wyatt sighed, knowing the man had already discerned their true identities. They'd gain nothing by letting him call them both 'Cain'.
"Sir?" Wyatt said, pausing to wait for permission to speak. Randu granted it with a nod, looking back the at Tin Man. Wyatt met his eyes, letting worry show on his normally controlled features.
"Sir, I should have corrected the mistake earlier. It's Gale, Sir, our wedding was two days ago." He gestured with one hand as if embarrassed. "I'm still new to the . . . uh . . . being married and . . . uh . . . changing my name and . . ." He stammered, hoping to convince the man of his sincerity.
He couldn't be sure how much Randu believed, but the other man nodded, as if accepting the reasonable explanation. "Of course, Lieutenant Gale . . . it is hard to give such control over to a woman."
Wyatt felt DG stiffen beside him and knew he had to stop her from showing her strength and independence. She was far too on edge from the recent revelations to risk speaking. "Yes, Sir. I'm just that glad the queen wanted to thank me for defeating that witch."
"And try to stop people worrying I'd try to take over, or something stupid like that," DG spoke up, once more sounding shy and submissive, despite daring to speak to the general. Apparently, she felt she needed to stand up for herself despite the cover. Her submissive attitude, however, made Wyatt stiffen; he was really beginning to hate the apparently weak personality that normally feisty, independent DG had to assume. He reminded himself that they were protecting more than themselves now: Ambrose and Leona were relying on their ability to continue deceiving this man.
"Don't you want to rule, Princess?" Randu turned his smile on her, hazel eyes watchful . . . almost predatory. Something in his tone sent a shiver of apprehension down Wyatt's spine. Did he suspect?
She shook her head and lowered her eyes as if cowed by such a dominant personality. "No, General." She tangled her fingers together as if feeling overwhelmed and trying to keep calm. "I was raised by farmers. I wouldn't know how to rule anything but a chicken coop."
The shy response was apparently the correct one as Randu threw back his head and let out a loud, grating laugh. "Now I understand, Lieutenant Gale." He continued to chuckle as he headed back to the door.
"Understand, Sir?" Wyatt dared to ask, as if temporarily forgetting his low rank in light of his commanding officer's merriment. Perhaps they could learn something.
"Of course," Randu replied as he let himself out of the room. "Now I understand why you were given the lost princess for wife." He grinned at them and shut the door, the sound of the key locking them in quickly followed by retreating footsteps.
Finally, Wyatt let his stiff back and shoulders relax.
"Asshole . . ." DG swore, drawing Wyatt's surprised eyes to her angry face. She glared at him, and he wasn't sure if she was angry at him or just Randu. "So, is Cain your real last name or was it Adora's?"
Surprised by the sudden direction of her question, he answered automatically, "Adora's name was Rowen when we married."
"So, why do you only have to give in to a woman when you marry the princess? I thought all of Lux was maternal-lineage." She crossed her arms, a look of challenge on her face.
Wyatt sighed and frowned, trying to find a way to explain without setting her off yet again. Finally, he shrugged and said, "Adora wasn't Lux Clan, DG. She was Spiritus Clan. They're paternal-lineage there."
"Oh." The fight seemed to leave her as suddenly as it had come, and he watched her get up and go over to the tray, checking on their supper.
Wyatt took off his other boot and followed her, the big man quiet on stocking feet. "We'll need to ration. Half of that will need to go to Ambrose and Leona," he said softly, though he had a feeling she had already been planning such a split of food.
She nodded and picked up the heavy tray. "Of course." When he reached to help her, she turned away from him. "Get the doors?"
With a sigh, unsure just what was bothering DG and how to fix it, Wyatt did as she asked, accompanying her into the other room.
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Continued in Chapter Eighteen: Food for Thought
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The Twelve Clans of the Outer Zone with the Ruling House of Each Clan:
Aquam Clan/ House of Rimi . . . (Ice- Mount Runcible)
Cogitatio Clan/ House of Idae . . . (Milltown)
Corde Clan/ House of Animum . . . (Viewers)
Fortitudo Clan/ House of Greyhatt . . . (Guilds- Munchkins)
Lux Clan/ House of Gale . . . (formerly House of Ozma- Gillikin)
Mortem Clan/ House of Shiz . . . (Alma Mata- Gillikin)
Nature Clan/ House of Terrae . . . (Vinkus- Thousand Year Grasslands)
Papay Clan/ House of Somniabunt
Phlogiston Clan/ House of Pyre . . . (Fire- Desert surrounding O.Z.)
Sapientiam Clan/ House of Quinolui . . . (Quadling- Realm of the Unwanted)
Spiritus Clan/ House of Aeris . . . (Air- Lake Country)
Tenebris Clan/ House of Fugae . . . (Witch's Dark Tower- Gillikin)
