Brooklyn was carried to the elevator by his two brothers, each lending a supportive, strong arm under his shoulders.
"Shouldn't we take you to the common room, Bro?" Broadway asked anxiously.
"No! No!" Brooklyn groaned through clenched teeth, "Don't take me down there. Everyone will freak out and ask me a bunch of questions!"
"Gotcha. Where to then?"
"The south tower," he replied, "I can wait there for the morning."
Lexington and Broaday gave one another concerned looks, but they reluctantly helped their brother to the south tower and set him down so he could lean against a parapet. They weren't at all keen on his order to leave him there alone though.
"You're not in the best shape, Brook," Broadway reminded him.
"Yeah," Lexington agreed, "With the kind of voltage you just experienced passing through your body, your liver is probably one onion short of a blue plate special!"
"I'll live," he muttered, "It's almost dawn anyway. I just want to be alone."
Reluctantly, and after reminding him that he should call them on the radio if he began to feel worse or needed help, they both leapt from the parapet and glided down to the courtyard. The lights of the city took on blurred star shapes as his eyes filled with tears.
He knew, of course, that the mountain clan's children had been dead well before he'd ever heard of them, yet he still felt as if he had somehow failed them. He knew that Sorrow was a stranger who had shown herself to be erratic and aggressive, and he should have known to guard his heart better, yet he still felt betrayed by her. In a single night, he had invoked the wrath of a dangerous clan, embarrassed and hurt his friends, and seriously misjudged a stranger who turned out to be a murderer of children, all because he had followed his own poor intuition instead of the evidence before him and basic good sense. He felt like a failure as he leaned against the stone parapet throbbing with pain and shame.
As he lay there, he shuddered when he heard the soft sound of wings approaching. He knew by the sound of his claws that Goliath had come looking for him.
"What are you doing up here alone?" he asked in an exasperated tone.
"Trying to hold on to the will to live," Brooklyn replied with a wince.
"You must be in terrible pain," Goliath chastised him, "Let me carry you downstairs and Ophelia can give you something to relieve it."
"Meds can't help the worst of it," Brooklyn snorted, trying his best to sit up and not look like 'death-warmed-over'. Goliath sighed, kneeling beside him.
"We've all known a terrible sadness tonight," he said.
"Yeah, but I'm the one who caused it!"
"Oh, Brooklyn!" Goliath replied with more compassion than scolding, "You must realize that none of this was you doing!"
"But I thought I could help," he argued, "I… brought her in."
"You brought her into our home, and into your protection," he told him, "You gave her the benefit of the doubt."
"Yeah! Big mistake!" he growled, "What is wrong with me?"
"It wasn't a mistake, Brooklyn," Goliath insisted, "Leaders aren't always correct in their intuition. We do our best with the information we have at the time, and sometimes life requires taking our best guess. This time you made a choice in the favor of mercy and while it didn't turn out as you had hoped, that does not mean it was the wrong choice. You were just and compassionate. You chose to wait until you were certain, before you acted. And what harm was done? None. You've no reason to regret your compassion for Sorrow."
"Then why do I feel like I've been gut punched?"
Goliath smiled in response.
"Three-hundred volts of electricity shooting through you might have something to do with that?"
Brooklyn groaned and shook his head and Goliath laid his claw on his shoulder.
"You hurt because you care, my friend," Goliath told him, almost sadly, "That is part of being a leader as well. You don't just take them into your protection. You take them into your heart. It hurts when it doesn't work out, even when you know there was nothing else you could do."
Brooklyn sighed. Goliath's words made sense. He reckoned the pain would get easier with time.
"Tomorrow, Xanatos and I will take our visitors back to Colorado. We will probably stay there a few nights, while Xanatos meets with this Pagosa person and writes up paperwork for the transfer of the land. Will you be alright?"
"Fine," Brooklyn agreed.
"Sorrow will remain imprisoned in the castle until we return," Goliath told him, "Later, we can discuss a more permanent situation."
"I don't care what you do with her now," Brooklyn replied coldly and Goliath fell silent for a moment.
"Alright," he replied finally.
The color of the sky was beginning to change at the horizon line, which was a sight welcomed by Brooklyn. Together, they felt the wind and watched in silence as rest and healing approached.
"Beloved Mother didn't give Sorrow the benefit of the doubt," Brooklyn suddenly declared, breaking the silence.
"I know," Goliath replied sadly, "I heard your side of the conversation over the security cameras."
"If she had," Brooklyn continued, "Maybe Sorrow wouldn't have felt so trapped. Maybe she would have chosen differently and things would have worked out better for her…and those kids."
"We can't know that," Goliath replied honestly.
"I know, but…I guess I'm glad that I gave her a chance, even if it turned out it was too late. It was the right choice."
"It was," Goliath agreed, and the first rays of the sun brought them rest.
The next evening, after their first patrol was complete, Goliath and Xanatos boarded Xanatos' newest hovercraft, along with the four members of the mountain clan. Everyone tried to make it a warm farewell, though the sadness of the previous night was pervasive.
"Thank you so much, Brother Brooklyn," Beloved Mother said to him softly, "You did so much to help us!"
"Oh…You're welcome," he had replied awkwardly, "I'm just sorry for how things turned out."
Once the aircraft had departed, Angela turned to Brooklyn and informed him in no uncertain terms that he looked absolutely exhausted. The rest of the clan agreed, despite his protests, and the decision was made that he should remain in the castle and rest while the others went on the late patrol.
The night before, he had wanted solitude while he sorted out his head after a full night of traumatic confusion. Now that he was left alone, he found he didn't want to be. In fact, he craved the familiar comfort of kin, so he made his way to the rookery, where he hoped to find Adelpha with the hatchlings. He had promised to apologize and he could think of no better time to do so. He almost ran directly into Alexander, coming through the door. The young shapeshifter was in his gargoyle form as usual, but he greeted Brooklyn with defiantly crossed arms and a most uncharacteristic scowl.
"Hey! What did you do to Adelpha last night?" he demanded of the warrior who stood, twice his size, over him.
"What do you mean?" Brooklyn asked concernedly, "Is something wrong with her?"
Alexander raised an eyebrow and glowered, unable to be intimidated in his state of protective wrath.
"She says there isn't but I know she's upset because she turned her implants on, even before Little Brother and Sister came down to say good-morning, and she never does that unless she's upset! So, what happened?"
"It's alright, Alex," Brooklyn reassured him fondly as he pushed his way past him, into the room, "I'll go have a talk with her."
"You better not be mean to her, or you'll hear from me!" he threatened and Brooklyn laughed.
"Oh yeah?" he asked teasingly, "Little Man, I could launch you like a javelin!"
"I could turn you into a javelin," Alexander retorted cheekily, then added, "If I knew what that was!"
Chuckling at the young fairy's good-intentioned bravado, Brooklyn peeked past the fiberglass trees into the rookery to spy Adelpha, resting on a upholstered bench and tossing a ball for Bronx absentmindedly while she looked at a small thin book with a decorative cover.
"Is that my overdramatic brother, lurking over there in the shadows?" Adelpha called in a slightly condescending, but otherwise cheerful voice.
Brooklyn emerged from the play equipment and crouched beside her on the floor, crossing his arms over his knees.
"Your sidekick out there told me that you were emotionally devastated," Brooklyn explained with a smug smile.
"Did he?" she grumbled, "He's a fiercely possessive little thing! I wonder where he picked that up? Impertinent boy! I should have a talk with him later!"
"He loves you," Brooklyn replied, "He won't have anyone abusing his favorite gargoyle."
Adelpha snorted at this claim.
"Immortals don't know love, Brooklyn," she declared confidently, though Brooklyn thought her tone betrayed a bit of regret at reciting this conventional wisdom, "They're given to infatuations, sometimes very intense ones. But to love as we do, one must be-
"Human?" Brooklyn interrupted, "He's three quarters human, you know."
Adelpha shook her head cynically. She clearly found human love to be even less likely, or at least less reliable, than immortal infatuation.
"His fondness for me is that of a master for his cherished pet," she insisted. Now it was Brooklyn's turn to shake his head. One could go mad trying to guess the inner thoughts of Adelpha's solitary and guarded heart, but Brooklyn had a strong suspicion that it was her own strong affection for Xanatos' young son that she kept hidden under this particular delusion.
"Well he's right either way. I'm sorry for what I said. I was frustrated and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
"Nevermind," she told him firmly, "I am not so fragile. I cannot afford to be! Forget it happened. Now then, it's Tuesday, isn't it? On what should we focus our training tonight?"
"Where are the hatchlings?" Brooklyn asked, looking around, "The rest of the clan is on patrol, so we'll have to have them as an audience."
"Oh, the hatchlings are with Detective Maza," she replied nonchalantly, "She's been suggesting that they be taken on an outing for a while now and she had the night off. I thought tonight would be as good a time as any."
Something about the timbre of this explanation didn't ring well with Brooklyn, but before he could question further, Adelpha attacked, knocking him backward to the floor. They thrashed and tousled for a few minutes, before Adelpha easily pinned him.
"I told you, I'm not angry with you, dear Brother," she chastised him, "You needn't spare me your full strength."
"It's not that," he groaned as he got to his feet, "I got electrocuted last night and I'm still not up to my full strength."
"That's most unfortunate," she replied in a calculating tone that didn't sound the least bit compassionate. Brooklyn's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"What?" he asked accusingly and Adelpha raised a brow.
"What do you mean, 'what'?"
"You've got a very distinctive I'm-About-To-Wreck-Your-Evening look in your eyes," he told her, "What are you thinking?"
Adelpha gave him a long, scrutinizing look, as if trying to decide if he ought to be trusted. Finally, she turned away and returned to the bench and her book.
"Goliath came to see me this evening, before he left," she told him, "He said he was escorting the mountain clan back to their home, and would be gone for a few nights."
"That's right," Brooklyn confirmed, "But don't get any ideas!"
"Oh, but I already have!" she confessed, "Goliath told me that the rogue confessed to killing the two stolen hatchlings and I can't stop thinking about it. Is it true?"
"It's true," Brooklyn replied grimly, "I heard her confession myself."
"And you believe it was genuine?" she urged, prompting a somewhat scandalized reaction.
"Who on earth would lie about something like that?"
Adelpha seemed to consider the point, then answered quietly, "Someone who loves her children so much, that she is willing to sacrifice her own freedom, and even her own life, to keep them safe from those who would do them harm."
"Adelpha, please!" Brooklyn begged, "You don't know how desperately I wish those kids were still alive. But I heard her confess with my own ears."
"Did she say how she killed them?"
"No, but…
"Did she say what she did with their bodies?"
"I don't know! Maybe after I left? My head was reeling! My brain matter had just been used at a lightning rod, for crying out loud! And after hearing her confess…I had to get out of there or I was going to die on that floor!"
"Goliath heard it all, but he couldn't understand a word," she pondered outloud, "I wish we knew what they asked and exactly what she said."
Brooklyn sighed in exasperation, then doing his best to remember accurately, he related,
"I heard her say that the hatchlings were dead to this world and that she would join them soon and be free."
Adelpha heard this and seemed troubled by it.
"We need to know for sure," she muttered to herself, "I don't see any other way."
Brooklyn's eyes widened as he watched his senior sister scheming in front of him. What was she thinking? He realized that from the moment they had met the mysterious mountain clan, nothing had turned out to be what it seemed. Did Adelpha know something that led her to doubt Sorrow's claim? At last she spoke again.
"What if, in lieu of our typical Tuesday night training, you and I went on our own little adventure?" she asked.
Brooklyn rose from the floor, giving her an incredulous look.
"Away from the castle?" he asked, "You know I can't do that."
Adelpha sighed, realizing she was going to have to up her argument, but she seemed hesitant about how to go about it.
"The gargoyles you encountered in the harbor," she continued, "They knew about Sorrow and that you were holding her here, did they not?"
"Yeah," Brooklyn admitted, "So?"
"Aren't you the least bit interested in what else they might know?"
"I'm interested in keeping the hell away from them!" Brooklyn retorted, "That Striker guy was a complete psycho, and besides, I doubt they're just hanging out there in the same place, waiting for me to come back and interrogate them."
"I believe I might know how to get them to come to us," Adelpha said hesitantly, "But we can't risk doing it here at the castle. I'll have to break some of their rules and there's a pretty good chance that they won't thank us for it."
Brooklyn rolled his eyes.
"Absolutely no way! They weren't even hospitable when they invited us to the party! I'm not interested in finding out what happens when we crash it! Besides, you know the rules. You aren't allowed out of the castle and Goliath would kill me if I let anything happen to you!"
"Would he?" she asked with a sarcastic smile, "I was worried that he'd kill me if I let anything happen to you!"
"I'm not carrying his child," he retorted, "Or did you forget about that?"
Adelpha's face fell to the extent that Brooklyn knew she had not forgotten in the least bit and the risk she was proposing was not one she was taking lightly.
"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" he asked in surprise, "Why?"
Adelpha shrugged.
"Two hatchlings are unaccounted for," she explained impatiently, "Would you not like to know for sure what happened to them?"
"They aren't our clan's children," he pointed out suspiciously, "What do you care?"
Adelpha looked down, clearly frustrated at not having an answer for such a simple question. Or rather, at her own pride for not allowing her to voice the truth to Brooklyn. For a long moment, Brooklyn watched her struggle with herself in astonishment. At last, he reached for her, and placing his claw on her cheek, he drew his sister's brow to his own in a silent expression of pride and affection.
There's a gargoyle hidden in her after all!, he thought to himself with a sense of glee. He was afraid to open his heart too far to the hope that Sorrow's children were still alive, but at the same time, he just couldn't stand to close it completely. Adelpha thought there was a reasonable chance that they were still alive somewhere, and if there was room for hope in her despairing, cynical soul, surely he could muster up some optimism as well?
"Well, Goliath DID leave me in command," Brooklyn reasoned.
"He did, indeed," Adelpha agreed with a mischievous smile.
"And we only want to ask a few questions. How offended can Striker get over a few questions?"
Adelpha growled low in her throat.
"I suppose arming ourselves is out of the question?" .
"Abso-freaking-lutely, out of the question," he clarified.
Adelpha sighed condescendingly as she got to her feet.
"No weapons," she conceded, "Are you in?"
"It IS Tuesday," he reasoned, "And it's about time you got some real exercise!"