Jules would only admit to himself that a part of him didn't feel like talking to his mother at the moment, but he knew not saying anything would just make things worse. After all, that was the thing that set her off in the first place. He sat on the bench in the tack room and gazed out the window. The horses were gathered around their water trough. Each one would occasionally lift their head and look around, then go back to drinking. Jules grinned when Nightrunner looked in the direction of the stables. It was tempting to take him out for a ride, but he was still on a resting period, and Jules figured he should take advantage of that time to be with his family.
He stood when he saw his father walking over with Vanora in tow. Anah wasn't with him. Jules wondered if Anah should be present, since she was a good mediator, but he decided not to ask why. Then again, she would probably find out the details anyway.
Moffitt and Vanora entered the stables quietly. Jules really didn't want to speak first. He had no idea what to say or how to say it. It was hard to believe he had been so inconsiderate of his own mother. He felt embarrassed, ashamed, guilty, sad, and angry all at the same time. He knew there was nothing wrong with feeling any of that, but here was his chance to make things right, and he didn't want to screw it up.
Things were quiet aside from the breeze and birdsong outside. Moffitt drew in a breath. "Alright. We're going to talk this out as civilly as we can. Jules, you explain your feelings first."
"Can I go last, Dad?" Jules asked. "I don't know how."
Moffitt nodded, then turned to his wife. "Darling—"
"I know what I want to say," Vanora said. "First, I shouldn't have gotten upset with you, Jules. It was silly and not very mature of me. You've proven time and time again that you take what we say to heart, you follow the rules, and you're very responsible. You have the right to decide who you want to spend time with, and I really hope you don't think this is because I don't like Antheia. She's a wonderful young lady, and I'm glad she makes you happy. It just… feels like you cast the rest of us off to the side."
Jules felt that was a rather harsh way of expressing it. He understood why his mother said it, but it still hurt. "I never intended for it seem that way, Mum. C-Can I say that seemed a bit harsh?"
"I agree that didn't seem like a fair assessment," Moffitt said.
"Well, I wasn't sure how else to say it," Vanora replied.
"I know." Jules felt bad for bringing it up. "Still, that… that wasn't…" He gave a frustrated sigh. Maybe it's true. I just ignored everybody else. "You know what? Forget it. You're right, Mum. I did cast everyone else off to the side."
Moffitt looked a little confused and concerned. "Jules, I just said—"
"Tell me I'm wrong! She's right. I have no excuse for my actions."
"We've been there. We're not angry with you. Nobody's completely right and nobody's completely wrong here. We're putting everything out in the open so you both can take the time to think about your behavior. Do you want to know what happened when I first married your mother? I ignored Anah. I didn't pay her much attention, and you know Anah has a tendency to not ask for anything, including and especially attention. It took Troy noticing and standing up for her in order for things to change. I was deeply ashamed of myself for having done that to Anah, but as Troy pointed out, it wasn't malicious. It wasn't because I didn't care about Anah. Of course I care about her. When you get into a relationship, you want that relationship to succeed. So, you put a lot of time and effort into it. You are not a bad person for having ignored your mother in favor of Antheia. You didn't do it out of malice. You're young and this is new and exciting. I understand that."
Jules tried to let that sink in. He nodded a little. "I'm still… still going to apologize." He looked his mother in the eye. "I wish you hadn't been hiding this. Maybe I would've been a bit more considerate."
"You're not a baby anymore," Vanora said. "You decide who you want to spend your time with."
Jules wasn't sure what the right thing to do was. On one hand, he wanted to spend time with his parents, but on the other, he was starting to feel like any time he spent with them now would be disingenuous. It would be forced. An obligation. Something to just say that he spent time with them. He glanced out the window. "Can I go talk about this with Dietrich?"
"If you think he'll be able to help, go ahead," Moffitt said.
Jules left the stables with his hands shoved in his pockets. Why did all of this have to happen? Why was I chosen? So what if I have good people with me? It hasn't stopped this whole thing from making everyone miserable. He kicked a rock off the path to the house and took his hands out of his pockets to open the front door. The smell of a freshly-baked treacle tart greeted him, but he had no appetite. He didn't say anything to anyone, even though Troy and Hitch asked if everything was okay when they saw him. He ignored them completely, and tapped Dietrich's shoulder. "Can we talk outside?" he asked quietly.
"We can. Where are your parents?" Dietrich asked.
"Still in the stables."
Dietrich didn't ask any more questions until they were outside. They walked around to the side of the house facing west. The western side of Moffitt's property was mostly empty, fenced-off land for the horses. Beyond the fence was a gently sloping hill leading down to the creek that was now famous to the team—well, infamous to Troy—for being the place where Snowstripe led Troy and Dietrich on a chase that ended with the two becoming close friends.
"You seem troubled by something," Dietrich said as they headed up the hill.
"I am, and I'm not sure what to do about it," Jules replied. He sat under a large English oak that overlooked the creek and the woods that separated his home from their neighbors.
Dietrich sat next to him, taking a carton of cigarettes out of his pocket. "Take your time. I am listening."
Jules would be forever grateful for Dietrich's patience. He did his best to summarize his conversation with his parents. When he finished, he found a desire to cry building inside him. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what the right thing is. I'm so tired of this. I just want everything to go back to the way they were before. I just… I want it all to stop. I don't want to hear about stopping the magpies and the sword and the prophecy anymore." A choking sensation rose in his throat. "Everyone's so bloody miserable and I want it to stop. Just… make it stop."
Dietrich didn't say anything for a while. He breathed a heavy sigh. "Oh, believe me, I have been exactly where you are now, in a situation where no matter how much you pray, it will not stop." He went quiet again. "That was how I felt for the majority of the war, and it did not lead me to good places. I just had to try and ride the whole thing out. That was really all I could do, mainly because I was completely alone."
Jules glanced at Dietrich through his tears. He knew where Dietrich's story was going. "Is that what'll happen to me? What… you did?"
"I certainly hope not, and I highly doubt it. But, if you ever start seriously thinking about it, say something."
"You would be the first person I'd tell."
"Do you want to know something funny?"
"Sure."
"Troy said the same thing to me many years ago, about he would go to me if he ever felt like his life was no longer worth living. I thought he was crazy—well, I still think he is crazy for multiple reasons—but specifically because at the time, I felt I was a terrible choice for someone to go to for help."
"That's definitely hard to see given that you just helped Dad."
"I know. The change in my confidence between then and now has been quite drastic." Dietrich took a draw on his cigarette. "Anyway, we are talking about you, not me."
"That's okay. Honestly, it helps to hear about a similar experience from someone else. It makes me feel like this isn't unbeatable."
"Alright." Dietrich drew his knees up and loosely wrapped his arms around them. Smoke from the end of his cigarette swirled lazily upward until being whisked away by a gust of wind passing through. "I think a better comparison would be what happened in the immediate aftermath of my attempted suicide. I had no idea what to do with myself. I still had nothing to really live for. I was still suffering. Your father, Troy, and Anah tried their best to help me feel like there were people in the world who cared about me. It was not until I broke down in front of Troy that things started to change, and to this day, I am not sure why. Simply telling him that I just wanted everything to stop, that all I wanted was to stop suffering changed something."
"Anah once said that not hiding things anymore and telling someone you don't feel well or that you're sad or angry about something can help."
"She is right. Bottling things up is among the worst things you can do. Saying something is a starting point. It is not a cure-all. It puts the problem out in the open, and allows you and the person you have expressed it to a chance to think about it. A solution will not always present itself immediately. In my case, it took a very long time for me to start truly enjoying life." A smile crossed Dietrich's face. "One of the things that helped was assisting your parents when you were born. I remember when you were first learning to crawl, you became quite the explorer. I thought supervising you would be a bit of a nightmare." Dietrich shook his head. "No. You came right to me. You had run of the drawing room for a bit, and then you crawled over to me with this big smile on your face. At first, I was not entirely sure what to make of this, but I told myself that you knew nothing about what happened to me or anything about who I was. You were a baby, of course you would not know. It felt… special. The child of one of my former adversaries just crawling up to me, seeing me as someone safe and comforting, was something remarkable to me. It made me appreciate everything life had to offer that much more, and that there was a lot that I would have missed out on if I had… succeeded, or if I had tried to give up again. Believe me, it is tempting to give up, but this is not forever. Your prophecy does not look like it will take as long as mine did to be fulfilled. Things will not get better if you give up. Pressing on is the only way to stop this."
Jules nodded. "I wish it wasn't, but you're right."
"At least the ravens have granted us a bit of a break."
"Not a very long one." Jules sighed. "I feel a bit better, but I'm still not sure what to do about Mum. I-I'd been thinking that… now it's going to feel like I'm not spending time with my parents because I enjoy it. It feels like it's an obligation now."
"I doubt your parents are intending for you to feel obligated to spend time with them."
"Just like how I never intended to make Mum feel like I cast everyone else to the side when I started dating Antheia." Jules waited for a response from Dietrich. When he didn't get one right away, he looked over to see Dietrich was gazing up at the cloudless sky, appearing deep in thought.
Dietrich exhaled a breath of smoke into the breeze before saying something. "I am beginning to suspect your mother could have avoided all of this by keeping things simple and telling you this instead; she misses you."
Now Jules was quiet. "I guess that would've made things better. Certainly sounds 'nicer' than 'you've cast all of us to the side.' Why wouldn't she just tell me that, then?"
Dietrich started looking somewhat concerned. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, then replied, "Your mother has been through a lot in the last few days. It would not surprise me if what happened in the library with the gargoyle has lingered with her."
"Like Dad's combat fatigue?"
Dietrich nodded. "Perhaps. It would explain a few things."
"She really hasn't talked about it."
"There are a lot of things that your father does not like talking about in regards to what happened to him during the war."
"I was a little surprised that he was open to me about being tortured. When I was little, I once asked about some of the markings I would see on him whenever we went swimming. He'd get really quiet and tell me it was something he wouldn't discuss until I was older. A bit like with the scars on your wrists."
"As much as I think your father is probably more willing to discuss his experiences now, I would not push it. The same can be said for your mother. You have enough to worry about. Let the rest of us worry about helping her."
"Okay." Jules glanced up at the sky, then back down at his lap. "So, what do you think I should do now? I don't want to cancel my date with Antheia tonight. Dad even said I shouldn't."
"I agree with him. I think the best thing to do is sleep on it. Enjoy your time with Antheia today, and see how you feel tomorrow morning."
"I'm not sure Mum's going to like that idea."
"Do not worry about what she thinks. Like I just said, let the rest of us worry about helping her."
Jules nodded a little. "Alright. Thanks for listening." He stood to go back to the stables, feeling somewhat more confident than before, but still afraid that he was making a mistake.
Moffitt looked out the window in the tack room every so often to see if Jules was coming back, then he would turn back to Vanora, who was seated on the bench. Her expression would alternate between being blank and disappointed. Moffitt sat next to her, putting his arm around her shoulder. "Everything alright?"
"That didn't go how I was hoping it would," Vanora replied.
"I think you made a rather poor choice of words with telling Jules that you felt like he just tossed us aside."
"I told you this morning that he would feel guilty."
"We can still fix this, alright? Don't worry." Moffitt sighed. "I'm sure Dietrich's exhausted, though. Maybe Troy's right and we need to start paying him for his services." He kissed Vanora's forehead, then went to kiss her again when he saw movement in the corner of his eye.
Jules entered the stables, still appearing nervous. He stood in the doorway to the tack room, and drew in a breath before speaking. "I, um… I've made a decision. I think… I'd… I'd like to just enjoy my time with Antheia tonight, and see… see how we all feel tomorrow morning."
"I think that'd be best," Moffitt said. "It has been a long day. A good-night's sleep is warranted." He turned to his wife. "What do you think, darling?"
Vanora didn't say anything at first. "Is this what Dietrich suggested?"
"Yes," Jules replied.
"Alright. If that's what 'Doctor' Dietrich thinks will help."
Moffitt smirked. "I think you're spending too much time around Troy, darling."
"Well, I'm starting to agree with Troy that we need to give Dietrich some form of payment now."
"Agreeing with Troy? Oh, no. Are you feeling unwell?"
"Oh, stop." Vanora playfully nudged her husband. A smile crossed her face. "Alright. Fine. We'll listen to Dietrich and revisit this tomorrow."
Moffitt was a little surprised that Vanora agreed to this, given how much she had been fighting to get Jules's attention that day, but he was glad to see her smiling and being a bit more playful. When Jules left the stables, Moffitt pulled Vanora closer in order to plant a kiss on her lips, then nuzzled her forehead. "I love you so much. I want to help you feel better. Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?"
"I can't think of anything at the moment, Jack. I'm sorry."
Moffitt's shoulders slumped. "Alright, but please let me know when you do think of something." He gave her a hug, whispering another "I love you" before gently pulling away. "Well, I think we'd best head inside before Anah and Troy get into an argument." As they headed back to the house, Moffitt kept giving Vanora a concerned expression. There must be something I can do.
Fortunately, the house was still standing when they entered. Anah and Troy weren't arguing. In fact, Troy was seated at the table with Anah in front of him, her head rested on his arm while he gently massaged the unbandaged sections of her body. The darkened color of her eyes told Moffitt that the cobra was half-asleep. He decided against disturbing her, and grinned at Troy. "I'm sure this is an accident, right? She just happened to be there?"
"Oh, yeah. Definitely an accident. She just put herself here," Troy said.
Tully snorted. "Come on, Sarge, Hitch and I both saw you pick her up after Dietrich left."
"No, you didn't. You didn't see anything."
"Well, let's ask Anah when she wakes up," Moffitt said. He reached down to stroke Anah's head.
"Sometimes I can't decide which snake is more spoiled, Anah or Carolyn's corn snake," Hitch said.
"I would argue Zeresh is the most spoiled snake in the world," Moffitt replied. "I put her branch exactly where she wants it. She's always fed first—and we give her whatever she wants, whether it's a mouse, rat, fish, or bird. I take her outside sometimes."
"Millington spoils all the snakes in his care," Dietrich said. "He is a good scientist, and does not let his curiosity impede on the health of his animals."
"You're quite right about that. I owe him now for saving Anah's life. Speaking of him, though, he's offered to go with me and Jules to the island, so we'll be able to bring Anah."
"No offense to the guy, Moffitt, but what's he going to do if you run into magpies?" Troy asked.
"He's shot skeet before. We're going out to a range together to practice. I hope he's got a good gun. If not, he'll have to borrow one of ours. He is a war veteran like us, so he's not exactly inexperienced with combat."
"I doubt he's got a gun suitable for magpies," Troy said. "Britain hasn't exactly made any decent pump-actions or semi-autos. Or at all. A double-barrel's not going to cut it against magpies, unless you've got the fastest load in the world."
"Even so, such a shotgun is entirely inefficient in this particular situation," Dietrich added. "When you do go to the range, I suggest having Millington practice on one of ours." He looked at Troy. "Which would you recommend?"
"He can use my Winchester," Moffitt said.
"You mean my Winchester," Troy muttered.
Dietrich grinned. "Are you feeling a bit protective?"
"I want to know that he's going to treat my gun with respect."
Moffitt sighed. "He'll treat your gun with respect."
"Have him come over the day you guys want to go shooting so I can ask him some questions."
"Better yet, why don't you come with us?"
"I like that better."
Dietrich glanced at Hitch and Tully. "Watch Millington best Troy at skeet-shooting. Shall we have a bet?"
"Sarge did good when we went shooting in Kentucky," Hitch said. "I'll say he'll do better than Millington."
"I'm going to stay out of this," Tully said. "Does anyone want some of this treacle tart?"
"I don't think I even had lunch, so, yes, I'll have some." Moffitt got a stack of small plates out from the cabinet.
"I have a snake in the way, otherwise I'd have a piece," Troy said.
"Then move her."
"No. She's too comfy."
"You can reach over her, Troy," Dietrich said.
"That means I have to stop petting her, and she's cold."
"Well—" Moffitt untied his scarf and draped it over Anah. "There. That'll keep her warm." He reached under the scarf to feel Anah. "She's not that cold. I think you're just looking for an excuse to not move her."
Troy didn't say anything in response, and turned his attention to Antheia while she received a slice of treacle tart from Moffitt. "You excited about tonight, sweetie?"
"Yeah. Is this place we're going really fancy?" Antheia asked.
"It's fancier than you might be used to," Moffitt said. "Dress nice, but not 'ballgown nice.'"
"I don't really have anything nice to wear."
Vanora spoke up. "What size are you? I have some old clothes that might fit."
"I couldn't do that. They're yours."
"Oh, don't worry about it. I haven't worn any of these since I was about your age, maybe a little older. Finish your tart and we can go look."
Moffitt was a little surprised with his wife, but glad at the same time. As long as she's happier, I'm not going to complain.
Dietrich stayed behind with Vanora, Hitch, Tully, and Anah when Moffitt, Troy, Jules, and Antheia left for the restaurant a few hours later. He watched them drive off, then disappeared back into the house, where Tully was dredging strips of fish in batter. "I did not think fish and chips was a Kentucky specialty," Dietrich said.
"Well, this is a Southern-fried take on fish and chips," Tully replied. "Back home, I'd be using a freshly-caught catfish, but this cod from the market will work."
"I might try this batter recipe when I am well enough, "Anah said from her place on Tully's shoulders.
"It's not that different from my chicken recipe. There's less spice. A lot less spice. But if you want fried spicy seafood, just take that recipe and do shrimp. You still gotta watch how much spice you use, because shrimp is a bit more delicate compared to chicken."
"I will make a note of that. Thank you, dear."
"You're welcome."
Hitch came out of the bathroom about a minute later and joined the others in the kitchen. "Hey, Anah, where's the iced tea pitcher?"
"It should be on the last shelf of the tea cabinet, dear," Anah replied. "There are plenty of ice cubes in the freezer, too."
"Thanks." Hitch set the pitcher on the counter. "That cabinet still scares me sometimes."
Tully smirked. "Why?"
"Because it's the tea cabinet. Everything has to be in a specific place. It's all ordered a certain way, and if anyone messes with it, Moffitt gets mad."
"He really is not that bad with the tea cabinet," Anah said, grinning. "If you mess it up deliberately, then he will be upset."
"Like what Sarge did once," Tully said.
"That was the first time I ever heard Moffitt use certain naughty words."
"Getting Moffitt to swear is an achievement."
Dietrich listened to the three reminisce about times they got Moffitt to curse, then realized someone was missing. "Where is Vanora?"
"I think she's in the parlor," Tully said. "Why?"
"Just curious." Dietrich stepped over to the parlor entrance. He saw Vanora was on the couch, a photo album in her lap. His thoughts turned to his conversation earlier with Jules, then he entered the room, clearing his throat.
Vanora glanced at him. "Do you need something?"
"No. I wanted to see how you were doing."
Vanora set the album on the coffee table. "Aren't you tired, Dietrich?"
"Not really. Well, not yet. I probably will be in a few hours after dinner. That will not stop me from assisting someone who needs it, you included." Dietrich gestured to the couch. "May I sit with you?"
"Sure, go ahead."
Dietrich sat next to Vanora, looking briefly at the photo album. It was opened to a series of pictures taken in the few days after Jules was born. There were a lot of smiles in those pictures, a lot of happiness. We can get back to being happy. We just cannot quit. "Jules has grown into a fine young man," Dietrich said.
"He has. I won't deny that." Vanora sighed. "He probably thinks I do deny that, though."
Dietrich shook his head. "Not at all. He still loves you, and I think he always will."
"You and everyone else are right. This isn't something strange. He's actually acting like a boy his age."
"You are not wrong for being worried about something happening, nor are you wrong for missing his company." Dietrich tried to study Vanora's expression. "That is what this is, correct?"
"In a way. I do miss him."
"We all noticed how quiet you were in the beginning about all this. Then you learned about the vision I had fourteen years ago, and then, of course, the gargoyle happened."
"I don't particularly want to discuss the gargoyle."
I think I am onto something. "I think it may help you to discuss it. I know everyone has been focused on Anah's injuries and Jules's running off. In the process, your own experience was neglected, though that, like Jules's behavior, was not done out of malice. Jules and Anah were in more immediate danger. Now, they are no longer in immediate danger. We can focus on helping you."
Vanora sighed, then bit her lip. "I suppose we can… talk about it."
"Would you like a cup of tea before we begin?"
"If you're offering."
Dietrich nodded before standing and going back out to the kitchen. The salty, savory smell of frying fish mingled with the sweet, fruity smell of tea as it flowed into the pitcher of ice and sugar. "Could you please fill the kettle when you are finished with it, Hitch?" Dietrich asked.
"Yeah." Hitch poured the rest of the hot water into the filter, then brought the kettle over to the sink. "We're just about done with dinner. You really want something else first?"
"Well, I will have a glass of iced tea, but Vanora needs someone to talk to, and I have offered to prepare a cup for her."
Hitch set the kettle on the stove. "Is everything okay?"
"It will be. If you do not mind, I would like for us to not be disturbed unless it is absolutely necessary."
"We can do that."
"Thank you." Dietrich eventually returned to the parlor, a cup of hot chamomile tea in one hand and a glass of cold sweet tea in the other. He set the cup in front of Vanora before sitting next to her. "Alright. Take your time. No rush."
"I appreciate it." Vanora picked up the tea, and stared out the window for a moment before sighing. "It's silly. I really shouldn't be upset over it. It happened. It's over. Jack came as soon as he found out."
"You are aware of your husband's nightmares, correct?"
Vanora nodded. "Very much so. I don't think this is it. It's nothing like what he went through. He was tortured, multiple times. He lost his brother. He was beaten, shot, and he saw more battles than anyone can comprehend. I was only in that library for a little under an hour."
"So? It does not take much for something to burn itself into your memory, especially something that terrifying."
Vanora was quiet, focusing on her tea for a few moments. "I'm sure Jack has mentioned that the gargoyle had a broken nose when he arrived."
"Yes. He said that you had a chair covered in blood before you went to him."
"I did. I spent most of the time trying to stay hidden, but the gargoyle did… it did come after me a few times. I'm pretty sure I got lucky when I managed to hit it. If I missed… I don't know what would've happened. It… It would've torn me apart."
"You showed a great deal of courage, there is no denying that."
"I certainly didn't feel very courageous."
"I have been there. I was terrified when I was confronted with the final stage of my prophecy. I highly doubted I was able to stay standing and convince General Preisner to stand down. Somehow, I did, because the full reality of what was at stake was hanging over me. I had to keep all of that in mind, otherwise… otherwise we would not be here right now."
Vanora nodded again. "I felt like I was running on nothing but adrenaline. The whole time, I was praying and begging that someone would come and help, but until then, it was just me."
"And you did not fail. You kept yourself alive. I told Moffitt when he was under hypnosis that in spite of all the terrible things that have happened, he has managed to press on and achieve incredible things in the process. Keeping yourself alive was without a doubt a great achievement."
"I didn't even put much thought into it. I just… did it."
"So? You still did it. I can understand, though, if the memories of what occurred still bother you. I have done a lot of reanalyzing of my own experiences, and still occasionally have bad dreams about them."
"What do you suggest, then?"
"Tell your husband and son that this has been on your mind. I know Moffitt will listen to you."
"Jules needs a break."
"I agree. He does. Like I suggested to him earlier, take some time to rest. We can revisit this tomorrow."
