The courtyard smelled of cherrywood smoke, soup, and freshly baked bread when Brooklyn arrived there. Most of the clan and their guests were gathered around the fire, while Broadway was at a nearby table, passing out steaming bowls of chowder from the world's biggest crock pot and plates of bread, cheese, and apples.
"Hey, Brook!" Broadway greeted cheerfully as he handed him a soup bowl.
"Hey, Bro," Brooklyn responded with a warm smile, glancing over at the gathering.
"You should have come with us," Broadway told him, "This has been so cool! The mountain clan sounds amazing, and they're protectors, like us!"
"I know," Brooklyn agreed quietly and Broadway gave him a quizzical look.
"What's with you?" he asked softly, so the others wouldn't overhear.
"Nothing," he assured him, "I'm just…"
"Worrying about everything?" Broadway suggested, "Like always?"
"Yeah," Brooklyn replied with a shrug, "I guess I do that sometimes. It's kind of my thing."
"Well," Broadway said pointedly, "If you aren't too overloaded with the burden of important second-in-command stuff, you might take note that the seat next to Minerva is empty."
"Minerva?"
"The female warrior," Broadway explained, "The one with the fascinating tattoos that run down her shoulders and…"
"Her name's Minerva?" Brooklyn interrupted incredulously.
"Well, she didn't have a name," Broadway explained, "So Thorn picked that out for her."
"Wait…Isn't Minerva the lady that runs that all night coffee truck on the other side of the park?" Brooklyn asked suspiciously.
"You bet!" Broadway replied with a good-natured chuckle, "She always has his standing order ready when he comes by on patrol and she's his favorite human in the world. The male warrior told us that she considered it a great honor to be named after his favorite barista."
Brooklyn laughed at this and Broadway continued.
"Hey, Thorn's making good progress over there, you know. You'd better get in there if you want a chance! Unless you're holding out for the hellcat we met on the rooftop the other night?"
Brooklyn laughed even harder at this statement.
"If it's meant to be, it will be," Brooklyn assured his well-meaning brother, "I'm too old to chase after females that way!"
"Brook! You're too old NOT to chase after females that way!" Broadway chortled back, and Brooklyn almost shot chowder out of his nostrils.
"What are you two chuckling about over here?" Angela asked slyly as she and Adelpha approached the table with Little Sister and Little Brother racing circles around their ankles and prancing over their swaying tails as if they were jump ropes.
"Nothing," Brooklyn replied with another snort of laughter, "But I think I will go over and join the living afterall!"
"About time!" Broadway replied, giving his brother an affectionate clap on the back.
The Beloved Mother and her interpreter rose respectfully as Brooklyn approached, extending their wings. The formally respectful display made Brooklyn a little self-conscious, but he stepped forward quickly and offered them his claw in greeting before he approached the empty space around the fire and asked if he might join them.
The conversation was far less awkward than it had been the night before as the two clans were beginning to get to know each other better. Brooklyn had wondered if the charm he'd been given by Alexander would allow him to understand all of the visitors, but he was disappointed to hear that their foreign voices remained unaltered to his ear. Either they spoke another language entirely, or more likely, the charm only worked between Sorrow and himself. But even with the language barrier between them, there was now a sense of friendship among them as they communicated by gestures, pointing, broken phrases, and peals of laughter.
"I would like for you to meet my mate, Adelpha," Goliath told the guests as she approached and crouched on the stones beside him, with Little Brother curling up at her side. Brooklyn observed as she laid a plate of cheese and apples on the stones for the hungry little hatchling as well as a steaming mug of chowder for herself, before bowing her head respectfully and offering the visitors her claws.
The Beloved Mother and her interpreter conversed for a moment, before he turned to Adelpha and said,
"How pleased we are to meet you at last! Our Beloved Mother hopes you won't feel too fatigued by joining us."
"Fatigued?" she repeated, glancing at Goliath skeptically.
"And she wishes to express her understanding. She was a rookery mother once herself."
Her blank gaze bloomed into comprehension and she smiled at the interpreter.
"Please give her my thanks. I feel very well at the moment. It's still very early and my brother…" she glanced in Broadway's direction, while stirring the chowder that steamed in her claws, "He sees that we are all kept well-nourished and strong, whether we wish it or not!"
Brooklyn raised a brow at this tremendous understatement. It had been one of Broadway's greatest feats, to convince Adelpha to eat properly after she had conceived Little Brother's egg. For centuries, she had deprived herself of nearly all nourishment, surviving only by a spell of immortality that would never allow her to starve, or even grow weak from hunger. The clan could only imagine what cruel circumstances in her unnaturally long life of isolation had catalyzed this seemingly pointless, self-imposed penance. She had never spoken of it. Even she herself didn't seem to understand why she continued with it, even after returning to the clan. But whenever she was offered food of any kind, she would flippantly protest that since she required no nourishment to live, she saw no real benefit to eating. Befuddled by this strange habit, but unable to provide a strong argument against it, the clan had generally respected her wishes and left her to her own chosen misery.
It was genuine fear for the wellbeing of the precious child that grew within her, that allowed Broadway to convince her to give up this perpetual fast. Broadway had then diligently prepared for her the same nourishing meals that he crafted for his own mate. Adelpha had obediently eaten them, all the while assuring him that she wasn't hungry but thanking him, nonetheless, for his consideration.
After she had given her egg, Brooklyn and the others had assumed that she would return to refusing food once again, but she had surprised them all and often joined them at mealtime with no coaxing from anyone. She offered the clan no explanation for this change, and no one seemed to feel the need to pry. However, Brooklyn suspected that she had simply succumbed to the comfort that Broadway's meals provided. If it was not the pleasantness of the food itself that led her to a place of reason, then perhaps it was the comfort of being tended to by such a gentle spirit who only wished to help. Brooklyn recognized this change as a remarkable relinquishing of what was once crippling pride, even though the others seemed not to give it too much thought.
Brooklyn let his gaze wander from Adelpha to Minerva who was watching him with a look of shy admiration. Broadway was correct about the elegant designs tattooed on her neck and shoulders. They were a fascinating sight to behold. He had noticed similar designs on Sorrow and he was trying to think of a proper way to ask about them when she said something to the other guard, who sat beside her, and he turned and addressed Brooklyn with a smile.
"Will you… come with…when we go again?" he asked awkwardly and Brooklyn's eyes widened.
"You mean, come with you to the mountain where you live?" Brooklyn asked in surprise.
"No, no!" the warrior replied frustratedly, "When we go to the city…and see the… gangsters?"
"Oh!" Brooklyn laughed, "You mean when we go back out on patrol?"
"Yes!" he agreed happily, "The patrol! My sister thinks you must be a great warrior! She wishes to see you fight the gangsters." The young female's eyes widened at this statement, and she gave a mortified look before swatting her brother angrily with her tail. Clearly, she could understand more English than she could speak herself.
Brooklyn laughed, and tried to assume an attitude that was the correct balance of humility and bravado.
"The best warriors know the greatest strength comes from their clan," he explained. The two warriors discussed this amongst themselves, and Minerva looked very impressed by his response.
"My sister thinks you are very wise," the male warrior told him with a laugh, "And very attractive!" Minerva's eyes narrowed at her brother's rudeness, but she repeated,
"Very wise, Brother Brooklyn!"
Pleased with his own expert social skills, Brooklyn glanced around the rest of the group, and caught the gaze of Adelpha, who was studying him with great interest from her place on the stone floor.
"Am I entertaining you over there?" he asked in a low voice.
"Always," she replied smugly as Little Sister galloped into her lap and joined her brother in devouring the food laid out for him on the plate. Little Brother didn't seem to mind his sister taking liberties with his plate. He seemed to find her greedy appetite quite humorous and he giggled as he offered her more and more apple slices.
The mountain clan's leader seemed to take a specific interest in the sight of the little ones playing together and gestured toward them, while making a comment to her interpreter in their own language. The interpreter nodded his solemn agreement and Brooklyn wondered what they were saying. Apparently, Adelpha did as well.
"Do the hatchlings bother you?" she asked a bit coolly.
"Oh, certainly not!" the interpreter replied, clearly embarrassed, "They are lovely young warriors! Your clan is blessed!"
"Has your clan many hatchlings?" Ophelia asked them and the interpreter's face fell.
"We have nine hatchlings, the same age as this," he said with a strange hint of bitterness, "But eleven were born to us."
Ophelia gasped softly at this tragic news and the others all murmured sadly as well.
"How heartbreaking!" Linnet said softly, "To lose two hatchlings so young!'
"Our hatchlings weren't lost," the interpreter corrected bitterly, "Our hatchlings were stolen from us!"
"Stolen?" Brooklyn cried, "By who?"
With a pained expression, the interpreter turned to address the Beloved Mother, who nodded and replied,
"Let them hear the truth!"
"The children were taken by one of our own," the interpreter explained, "Our own sister, who took them as hostages when she fled from justice. How we hoped that we would find them somewhere on the mountain, left alive and safe once she had successfully escaped. But sadly, we have found no trace of them. But we have not given up hope! There is still a chance that they are alive somewhere. We hope and pray for this!"
"You were hoping that these two might be your stolen hatchlings," Brooklyn realized.
"Forgive us," the interpreter pleaded, "When we saw your clan had just two hatchlings who were so alike in appearance, and who bore the same red hair, our grieving hearts leaped into a futile hope that some person had found our children and brought them here to safety, or even that a a moment of mercy had found its way into the heart of the murderess who stole them and she might have brought them here herself. Of course, now that we've seen their mothers, there can be no doubt that they were born to this clan! Please accept the apology of those in grief!"
Goliath stood slowly and strode to them, clasping both their claws in his own.
"No apology necessary," he assured them, "Were we in the same situation, we would do no different, nor would we ever give up hope."
The others all voiced their agreement and assured the guests that they had taken no offense.
"You said the one who took them was a murderer," Goliath continued in a low, gentle tone, "Who did she kill?"
The interpreter winced at the question, as if it caused him great paint to think of it.
"He was her own mate!" he exclaimed sorrowfully, "It was known they were ill-matched. They quarreled terribly and violently. The clan tried diligently to help and support them, but they simply could not be reconciled. But despite their rage toward one another, we never could have imagined that she would commit such an act! Yet one morning, Pagosa, our brother, went down into the tunnels and found his slain body, with her beside him. Even in her stone form, his blood still dripped from her talons!"
As the clan processed this grim story, Goliath glanced quickly at Brooklyn, who returned a troubled expression. Brooklyn sensed they were both thinking the same thing.
"She was banished from the clan, of course," the interpreter told them, "And we heard no more of her for several years. But one night she returned, sneaking into a secluded level of the caves through an opening that was revealed at some point by a sinkhole. Somehow, she had learned the location of some important documents that were written generations ago by the elders of the human clan we once lived among. She discovered the chamber and unsealed it, stealing the box which contained them. For what purpose, I am afraid to guess, for the information within those documents…"
The interpreter trailed off here for a moment. He seemed to be concerned that he had revealed too much to them, but a moment later, he continued.
"The clan confronted her and tried to stop her from taking the documents, but she took the children from the rookery and shielded herself with them. We didn't dare to attack her as she held the children!"
The interpreter looked at Beloved Mother mournfully and covered his face with his claw as if in great shame.
"We didn't stop her! We truly believed that as soon as she had gained her freedom, she would let the little ones go."
"But she didn't," Ophelia replied sadly.
"No," the interpreter continued sadly, "And after she escaped with them, and we had spent night after night searching the mountain for them, we returned to the caves to try to find some evidence of what her plans were and where she might have fled. We found no clue of where she might have taken the children, but we discovered the remains of two young men, who had been gruesomely slain, as if by a wild animal.
We have used every resource available to us to find her and recover our hatchlings. We've sought the help of our two sister clans, as well as our few human friends. But we've found no trace of them."
"You haven't used every resource," Angela told him with a resolute tone, "You have the Manhattan clan as your friends now. And between us and our human friends, we can find anything or anyone that exists in this world."
"We've actually been known to find things in other worlds as well," Blaze added reassuringly.
Rapidly, the interpreter shared the clan's promise with Beloved Mother who gasped and seemed deeply moved.
"Thank you!" she said genuinely, taking Goliath's claws, "My friend! My brother! Thank you!"
"Thank you, Brother Brooklyn!" piped a warm voice beside him, and he met Minerva's eyes, that now shined with enough confidence and admiration to try to speak to him without her brother's assistance.
"Uhhh. It's nothing," he replied softly, "You'd do the same for us."
Brooklyn glanced down at Adelpha, who looked back at him with the fascination of one caught up in a very dramatic episode of a soap opera. He scowled at her and she smiled back.
"Would you like a Coke and some popcorn while you watch this melodrama?" he sneered sarcastically under his breath.
"Maybe later," she replied haughtily, "Goliath wants you."
Brooklyn looked up to see that Goliath had indeed left the group and was waiting alone in the shadows of the corridor that led to the dining room. Quickly, Brooklyn excused himself and hurried to join his leader.
"Well, the situation has gotten a bit more complicated," he pointed out.
"We don't know for sure that Sorrow is the same rogue," Brooklyn protested.
"But we know the fastest way to find out," Goliath replied.
"But the fastest way isn't always the best way," Brooklyn pointed out, "Sorrow is wild and aggressive, but I'm not ready to believe she'd kill her own mate and two humans in cold blood and then kidnap a couple kids."
"Neither was her clan," Goliath reminded him, "And yet that is what happened."
Brooklyn considered this. It was clear what course of action Goliath favored, but he was giving Brooklyn the chance to lead. Brooklyn was anxious to prove himself, but at the same time, he couldn't shake the instinct that there was much more to Sorrow than they had seen.
"Look," Brooklyn reasoned, "If Sorrow IS the rogue the mountain clan is looking for, then there's one thing we know and that is that she doesn't have those hatchlings with her! If they are still alive, only she knows where they are. The interpreter said that they would be the same age as our hatchlings, which means they're too young to look after themselves for any length of time. They could be in real danger out there. If we tell the mountain clan that she's here, they will immediately want to question her. If that happens, I'm sure that she'll shut up like a clam. But maybe, if I can gain her trust, she'll tell me where she's got those kids hidden, or at least give me some hints!"
Goliath seemed to consider this line of reasoning.
"If she's even the same rogue," Brooklyn added.
"Very well," Goliath replied reluctantly, "But remember that we also wish to earn the trust of Beloved Mother. We cannot keep her a secret forever."
"I know," he replied anxiously, "I just…Let's get this figured out first, before we do anything we will regret!"
"You have until tomorrow night," Goliath warned him, "After that, we must tell Beloved Mother that we believe we have one of her clan imprisoned. You had better get started!"