Neither Lexington, nor Brooklyn were among the clan members gathering at the North Tower before daybreak.
"Where is Lexington?" Sister asked Broadway anxiously, who explained that Xanatos had called him away from the park, presumably to return to the important project they were working on.
"But when will he be back?" Sister whined in frustration and Broadway smiled.
"Are you having another earth-shattering technological crisis?" he asked with a laugh, and he spoke in a deep voice filled with theatrical bravado, "When I was a lad, we didn't have computers! We made our own toys out of rocks and clumps of dirt! We were thankful for an occasional bone or seashell!"
Sister rolled her eyes at Broadway's good-natured joking and he laughed again.
"Don't worry, Sis! If he doesn't make sunrise, I'll go drag him out of the lab for breakfast and try to pour some coffee into him!"
Sister nodded and took a deep breath. There were only a few minutes left until sunrise anyway. Even if she did get to tell him about Coldsteel before sunrise, there wasn't anything Lexington could do about it until nightfall. Feeling defeated, Sister took her place on the tower to face the dawn.
As the others took their places around her, she thought about what Lexington might do to Coldsteel. Was his existence really as he said it was? Coldstone had told them that some fates were worse than death and the perpetual silence and emptiness that Coldsteel had described seemed pretty close to that to Sister. Could what Coldsteel had done really justify such a cruel and endless torment?
Sister's glance found Coldstone and Coldfire standing together on a parapet, facing one another and looking about as amorous as two steel gargoyles could possibly look. Sister's eyes narrowed as she watched them and she realized that she didn't really trust them. Their strange hatred toward Adelpha and their unwillingness to listen to reason on her behalf was unacceptable in her eyes. Coldsteel had claimed that they simply didn't understand him, and if their unjust treatment of Adelpha was any indication, it might be a fair claim for him to make. Who was to say that their assessment of Coldsteel was any more just than their condemnation of Adelpha?
The more she thought of this, the more she began to worry that she was possibly doing the wrong thing. Coldsteel had offered to help her save Elisa. He had asked nothing in return but the chance to prove himself worthy of forgiveness. Surely Goliath would approve of that?
But Goliath wasn't there, she thought to herself. Was turning Coldsteel over to Lexington the same as handing him over to his fellow cyborgs' unmerciful vision of justice? That all depended on Brooklyn, she realized. Lexington would surely do whatever Goliath's second-in-command thought best. Sister tried to convince herself that she should do the same. Goliath trusted Brooklyn. Lexington trusted Brooklyn. Even Adelpha trusted Brooklyn. They were all grownups, and brilliant and courageous warriors at that. If they trusted him, why shouldn't she? Still, she couldn't help but wonder if Coldsteel was genuine in his offer to help her, as well as what sort of spells might have been hidden in Demona's notes.
The sun rose and fell again without Lexington joining them at the tower. Broadway went to fetch him for breakfast, as he had promised, while the rest of the clan went to their respective tasks to prepare for breakfast and the first patrol. Sister quickly leaped from the north tower to the courtyard floor, intent on catching Lexington as soon as he entered the dining room, but she nearly ran headlong into a wing of bright gold metal.
"Little Sister," rang Coldfire's mechanical voice and Sister looked anxiously up at her emotionless face, "I have repaired your phone."
Coldfire held out her claw and offered the phone to Sister, who took it gingerly from her.
"What do you say, Sister?" Brooklyn urged.
"Thank you, Coldfire," Sister replied dutifully and Coldfire bowed her head graciously and passed by them into the courtyard. Sister pressed the button on the side of her phone and was relieved to see it power on again. Confident that Coldfire wouldn't have returned it if she had noticed any signs of danger within it, she slid it into the pocket of her tunic.
"Get your gear on," Brooklyn directed her, "We'll leave on patrol right after breakfast."
Sister had completely forgotten that she had promised to join Brooklyn on patrol that evening, and before she could check herself, she gave a loud, emphatic groan. Now, most of the time, such childish displays of frustration slide right past adults' consciousness, being taken as offhand demonstrations of immaturity and not blatant disrespect. It only took one glance at Brooklyn's reaction for Sister to realize that this was not going to be one of those times. Brooklyn's eyes flamed with fury and almost instinctively, Sister found herself looking anywhere but at him.
"Sister, when we decided that you should begin your warrior training with the clan, it was because we believed that you were mature and devoted enough to handle the responsibility. Is it possible that we have made a mistake?"
Brooklyn's cold tone caught Sister off guard and she shrugged, choosing to focus her defiant gaze on the table where the rest of the clan had gathered. Lexington was there now, on his normal stool, still absorbed in his computer, with a steaming mug beside him. She could talk to him now about Coldsteel, but Brooklyn wasn't finished with his lecture.
"Do you understand that when a warrior fails to take her mission and her training seriously, that not only puts innocent human lives at risk, but the rest of the clan as well?"
Sister's eyes brimmed with tears, but she continued to stare at the table.
"Do you?" he asked again, the timbre of his anger rising.
"I understand," she replied in a low but remarkably snide voice, "Can I go eat breakfast now?"
"No," he barked, his voice rising to the point of attracting the others' attention. With a concerned look, Angela rose from her place at the table and approached them.
"You are going to stand here and listen," he decreed.
"Where's Adelpha?" Sister asked suddenly, noticing that she was again not at the table, "I thought she was-
'We're not changing the subject, Sister!" Brooklyn interrupted firmly, "Are you a member of this clan or not?"
Sister blinked back her tears, feeling quite alone, despite the crowd around her.
"Aren't I?" she retorted bitterly, "Maybe I should take my breakfast and go eat with Adelpha in her cell?"
"Oh, Sister!" Angela exclaimed sorrowfully.
"Well, I'm afraid that isn't possible at the moment," Brooklyn replied in an equally bitter tone.
"Why not?"
"Because she's not there."
Angela looked up sharply at this statement and many of the others shared curious looks.
"What do you mean, Brooklyn?" Angela asked him, "Where is she?"
Brooklyn sighed and since he realized that the whole clan was listening in anyway, he turned to address them all.
"Alexander came to the castle today and took Adelpha with him back to Chicago. Her assistance was needed for something he is working on and she went to help him."
"Brooklyn!" Angela exclaimed, clearly struggling to keep her own cool, "Adelpha isn't allowed to leave the castle!"
"She is now," he decreed firmly, "She should have been for some time now, if you ask me. Alexander called last night and wanted her and I talked it over with them both. I believe this is what is best for her right now. That's all there is to it."
The clan stared at Brooklyn with a mixture of confusion and contention. It was Sister who finally broke the silence.
"That's not true!" she bellowed at Brooklyn, "She didn't want to go! You made her!"
"Sister!" Angela warned.
"But he's lying! I heard them talking last night. Adelpha didn't want to leave the clan at all! Brooklyn forced her! He said she would be more free, but he really just threw her out!"
"Sister, you're out of line," Broadway told her firmly, "And you need to calm down."
"I won't calm down and I won't shut up!" Sister cried, "I don't care if you punish me or even if you throw me out too! Adelpha didn't do anything wrong and Brooklyn took away her home and her clan, all because of those two robotic freaks!"
"Sister!" Brooklyn boomed, his eyes flashing, and the rest of the clan erupted into a chaotic chorus of outrage.
"I hate you!" the wretched child cried, "I hate all of you!" With that, she ran from the room. Then, without concern for anything but his sister's well being, Orion chased after her and no one tried to stop him.
The clan sat in stunned silence. No one seemed to know what to say. But then, as if on cue, Micah slammed his fist on the table, upsetting a spoon and a glass of juice.
"We want Adelpha to come back home!" he cried and a chorus of young voices immediately joined in with a loud and unruly demonstration of prepubescent mutiny. The hatchlings began to yell, stomp, turn over stools and breakfast dishes, and shout their demands that Adelpha be returned to the clan immediately.
Micah and Fleet, to their parent's outrage, climbed directly onto the exceptionally long banquet table, and ran along the scarlet table linen, brandishing the candle sticks like swords. Blaze and Thorn beat them to the end of the table and caught each of the instigators around the middle, dragging them back to the group of grownups, waiting to administer justice. Hoisted over Blaze's shoulder, Fleet caught hold of the corner of the tablecloth and yanked it from the table, waving it around frantically like some sort of revolutionary banner. Any remaining cups or dishes went sailing to the floor, to the happiness of Bronx and a couple of the hatchlings who didn't mind floor muffins.
Not to be outdone, Lark and Lyndon raced over, under, and around the chairs, screaming "Bring her back!" at the top of their voices. Ophelia caught them both by the tail and raised them off the floor, but still they continued to wail their demands, and the chorus of little hatchlings joined in enthusiastically. That is, except for Bonnie, who was sobbing uncontrollably in Lyra's arms about no longer being able to sing her bedtime song to Adelpha. Lyra tried to console her little sister while simultaneously attempting to reason with Angela. Meanwhile, Angela was trying to console Lyra while simultaneously attempting to reason with Brooklyn.
Lexington was scolding Fleet in a pitch above the cacophony, trying frantically to wipe the spilled coffee off his laptop before it soaked into the keyboard. Broadway had the sense to herd the little ones away from the broken glass and was hanging onto one tail while the two others and Bronx raced in circles around him. Linnet, always practical in a crisis, had run to the scullery to fetch a broom and dustpan, while Coldstone and Coldfire, stared at the riot in silence, presumably overcome with confusion at how their clan had become so disorderly.
"Everyone stop!" Brooklyn yelled above the fray, and the scene effectively froze. For a moment, the only sound was Bronx's muzzle, sniffing and sifting through the scrambled eggs on the floor.
"Get these kids back into the rookery!" he ordered, and all the children soon found themselves prodded, scooped up, hoisted, or tail-yanked out the door into the corridor.
"Take the hatchlings downstairs," Ophelia hissed at the older children, without waiting for a reply before closing the door.
"Now what?" Lyra grumbled out loud, having been deprived of either a grownup or older sibling to tell her what to do. Fleet had a plan though.
"You little kids go to the TV room and put on a movie," he ordered. Bonnie sniffed in protest.
"Don't worry, Bonnie," Fleet told her confidently, "We won't let them get away with this!"
As Bonnie and the other little ones disappeared around the corner, Fleet said,
"Come on! To the kitchen!"
As the clan's five pages raced down the corridor to the stairs, Micah said in a panting voice,
"That was an epic tantrum, wasn't it?" The others had to agree and congratulate him.