The Hatter is Mad: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 2) (5 page)

His eyes narrowed before he spoke. “Perhaps, but I cannot give you that sort of information. It’s classified. I’m going to tell you exactly what I told Caleb Oznek. You can’t have it without Diana Cortez’s specific orders.”

I was going to ask him why information involving an attack on myself was classified from me, but I was thunderstruck as to why Caleb would have asked for the same information.

“Caleb was here?” I asked, and the man’s gray eye twitched.

“Yes. Hyas Tyee Oznek comes here every day. He always asks for information on your region, and every day I tell him what your mother told me. Your region is classified.” He paused and licked his lips. His weird eyes glinted for a moment before narrowing as if a different thought stream passed through his head. Apparently, he didn’t think it was the least bit odd my region was classified or that Caleb came here every day.

I took a deep breath and concentrated on trying to stop my heart from beating its way out of my chest. I haven’t seen Caleb since the night we kissed. He went back to Lot the next day. He didn’t even say goodbye before he left. He was just gone, leaving me all by myself.

I still remember waking up that night. A nightmare had jolted me awake in a cold sweat, and I was alone. Yeah, that’s right, big bad dragon slayer Lillim Callina was having nightmares.

To be fair, I was less upset about him leaving after we kissed than about being left alone to deal with the nightmares on my own. I was left to deal with images of being crushed by the dragon’s fist, of Joshua being impaled by Wyrm, and of Caleb being speared through the chest. It wasn’t easy that first night without him there. But I’d survived.

“You don’t remember me do you?” the man said, his voice snapping my attention back to him.

“Should I?” I asked.

“You should remember more,” he snarled. “You should remember so much more.” He moved toward me menacingly and poked me with his wrench. It didn’t hurt at first, but my throat began to swell up. Pain blinded me, and I staggered backward. I struggled to pull in a single breath as I slumped against Lachesis.

“What… what did you do to me?” I wheezed.

“I’m helping you to remember. I always try to help you remember… but you never do. No, you never do.”

Chapter 8

I stood up, shaking my head to orient myself. The scene around me had changed. I was no longer in Lot’s Information center. No, I was standing outside the gates of Lot… only it wasn’t how it normally looked. It didn’t look new exactly, but the damage looked fresh. I looked around, trying to find someone to tell me what the hell was going on when my jaw hit the floor.

Sabastin Callina, my father, stalked back and forth in front of Warthor Ein. Fury was etched in what little of his face I could see behind the mass of bandages that covered nearly his entire body. I knew that beneath those bandages were horrible wounds that would later turn into scars. My father never covered his scars so this must have been from before I was born.

Okay, somehow I was stuck in a scene from the past. How the creepy engineer managed to immerse me in a scene from before I was even born was beyond me, and why he did it was even stranger still. What was he trying to show me?

“Hello!” I shouted, and neither of them turned to look at me. Okay… so they couldn’t hear me. Was this a view only vision? I kicked at the ground absently, and my foot just skidded along the dirt without throwing up a single particle of dust. Awesome.

“Is that what this is really about Warthor?” Sabastin Callina said, his fists curled in fury as he stopped and glared up into Warthor’s face towering a foot over his own.

Warthor swung an arm back, pitching his royal robe onto the ground, and smirked at his former student. “You know I would never hurt you, Sabastin. You are far and away my most favorite student,” Warthor said.

Sabastin’s lip quivered as he placed a single finger to his heart. “I hurt greatly here, Warthor. Explain why it must be my child,” Sabastin said. “Just tell me why.”

I swallowed. My heart beat so loud that I was sure they’d have heard it if they were really there in front of me. Were they talking about me? Was this the conversation where Warthor told my father that his child was going to be Dirge Meilan reborn? This was definitely not a conversation I wanted to hear.

A contemptuous look flashed across Warthor’s face as he spoke. “My dear friend, your child will be a blessing. Will not the time spent in Diana’s womb nourish her as any other? Will her body not be made up of the intermingling of you both?” Warthor reached out and settled a hand awkwardly on Sabastin’s shoulder.

“Diana is part demon. She doesn’t belong to either the Dioscuri or the demon world. Is that why you picked her as the mother?” Sabastin’s voice had a lilt that made me think he was close to crying. I didn’t quite understand it because I’d never seen him upset, not once in my entire life. He was always the stalwart face of calm serenity. Now, though, he was overcome by emotion, switching between rage and sadness so quickly that it made me want to help him. I wasn’t quite sure what to do exactly. I wanted his pain and anger to go away.

“Firstly, I never picked the mother. Do you think I would have chosen your harlot given the choice? I had no choice. Dirge was dying, my dear Sabastin. It was only a matter of time before the power of Shirajirashii destroyed her,” Warthor said.

“That explains the explosion reported by Joshua Landers. So Dirge’s explosion was… intentional?” Sabastin asked and shook his head, suddenly saddened.

“Indeed,” Warthor replied.

“And you both knew this would happen?”

“Yes,” Warthor said, and there was a cold edge to his voice. I knew that edge. It meant he wasn’t telling the whole truth. What was Warthor hiding?

“But all those people caught in the blast… they could have been saved…” my father said, voice barely a squeak.

“They were already dead. Manaka was coming, and he was bringing death. The only reason we were able to beat him was because of Dirge’s instability. If she had been less broken, we would have all died,” Warthor said with a sigh.

“And now that she is dead, you got the gods to bring her back?” Sabastin asked, eyeing his friend for a long time. “I should have known you would try something like this. This is so like you. When will you let things be?”

“When the world stops having so much that needs fixing, I’ll let it be. When traitors like Jiroushou Manaka are dead and buried, I’ll let it be. When the last demon is ground to dust and the last monster is slain, I’ll let it be. Until then, I’ll stop them all, no matter the cost,” Warthor said, shaking his head as though he could not imagine such a world.

“Am I really her father?” Sabastin asked suddenly.

The question came so completely out of nowhere that it seemed to strike Warthor like a physical blow. He looked at his former student, confusion etched into his face. “Do you expect me to say it’s someone other than you?” Warthor asked.

“Warthor…”

“I assure you, she is in every way yours, Storm Eye.”

“You shall never have her, Warthor,” Sabastin said as his face turned from a mix of pain and confusion to one of stalwart determination. It was his battle face. “I know you’ve probably got fifty missions all lined up for her, but you will not take her and throw her at the enemy. She is my child. If she doesn’t wish to help your crazy jihad, I won’t make her.”

I took a step back, my mouth hanging open as my father stared down Warthor Ein. His eyes were blazing and bits of electricity arced along his skin like miniature lightning bolts. He reached forward and poked Warthor in the chest with his index finger. “Is that clear?” he spat.

Was this why no one chased me when I left? Was my father protecting me from the Dioscuri and the council? Was the entire reason Warthor hadn’t thrown me over his shoulder and carried me off to help with his schemes because my father told him no?

I swallowed. If that was true, why did Warthor listen to my father? Warthor was definitely more of a do first, ask forgiveness never type of person. So why would he listen?

“She will come to me on her own accord, Sabastin. The fates have already determined that she will grow incredibly fast, until she has matured to about fourteen. Only then will she age at a normal rate. She will have all her power upon being birthed,” Warthor said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with that blue glint that made me think of a frozen lake daring you to take one step on it so it could shatter and drag you beneath. “Tell me, Sabastin, does Diana still hold a grudge against Dirge? Will she be able to move past it and love her child knowing it is Dirge Meilan reborn? How long do you think it will be before your wife drives her to me?”

Sabastin’s fist lashed out, moving so fast that I scarcely saw it. One moment they were standing there face to face, the next Warthor was reeling backward, clutching his mouth. “You know I am right,” Warthor said, and his voice was almost sad.

“That’s your problem, Warthor. You never give anyone the benefit of the doubt.” My father turned and began to walk away. “You shall never have her. Not now, not ever.”

My father strode into the distance, leaving Warthor alone just beyond the gates of Lot. Warthor sat down on the grass and sighed, putting his face in his hands. “I hope you’re right,” Warthor said softly. “I already failed her once. She deserves better than to be raised by me.”

Chapter 9

The scene melted in front of me, melting away like ice on a hot day. One moment I was staring at Warthor, and the next I was staring at the engineer’s back as he fiddled with some knobs on Clotho’s control panel.

“Why did you show me that?” I cried, bracing my hand against Lachesis as I tried vainly to pull myself to my feet.

He spun, glaring at me through narrowed eyes. “So you’ve finished the first scene, Miss Callina,” he said with a grin as he stared down at his arm. It was covered with a series of watches, some digital, some not, all set to different times. He showed his arm full of watches to me and grinned again. “We have time for another.”

“Wait… no!” I screamed as he stepped over and pulled a lever on Lachesis’ main panel. Before I could do anything else, the ground beneath my feet shifted, and I tumbled forward.

When I looked up, I was watching my father, Sabastin Callina, pacing in front of my mother. We were in our home, only none of my stuff was here. Not that I’d had a lot of things to begin with, but still my mother had put some of my artwork from when I was little on the walls. These walls were bare. Was I in the past again? If so, this was going to get old fast.

My mother’s face was that strange mix of stubborn hostility and amusement that she normally wore in front of the other Dioscuri. Her belly was beginning to bulge. How far along was she? Part of me wanted to move closer to them, to touch her tummy, knowing I was inside, but the other part of me wanted to get the hell out of dodge as quickly as possible. If this was when she found out who I was, I wanted to see this conversation even less than the previous one.

Beside her, one of her seventeenth century wooden chairs was lying on its back. Had she thrown it to the ground? My mother loved those chairs because they had wooden lions carved onto the arm rests. Having thrown it was a big deal for her.

“That is what I am telling you, Diana. The child you carry in your belly is Dirge Meilan. Warthor is sure of it. He is not usually wrong,” Sabastin said as he moved to hug his wife, and she stepped away from him, holding one hand out in warning.

“My child…
our
child is
Dirge
?” my mother said, eyes open in shock as she ran her hands over her bulging stomach. “This child can’t be Dirge Meilan. She was conceived before Dirge died.”

“It appears ‘The Invincible’ Warthor Ein has a cure for death,” Sabastin replied sarcastically. “Someway, somehow, this is his doing.”

“Do you think… do you really think he erased our child somehow and replaced it with Dirge?” Diana asked staring at the floor.

“That isn’t a question I even want answered,” Sabastin said after a long time. “Do you?”

“No,” Diana said with a scowl, her eyebrows knitting together in an expression that sent a tremor down my spine. But that wasn’t her angry face. It was her thinking over something she didn’t like face. The wind swirled around her, ruffling the edges of her pink dress and giving her hair a windswept look. Like him, she was a master of weather magic. She could create storms that could blot out the sun.

“If anything, we must protect this baby from him. I don’t know what Warthor’s plans are, but his whole life he was taught to hate demons,” Sabastin added, his voice a mixture of regret and sadness.

“We are no longer bound under him Sabastin. You are not still his second in command, as short lived an event as it was,” Diana said as she moved toward him and put her hands around his neck. “If this baby is still what you want... if she is what you want, we will raise her as if she is our own.”

“She
is
our child, Diana, and we will raise her as such. She is no longer your former lieutenant. Nor is she still your rival. We will show her the love and understanding fitting any child because she is ours. Do you think you can do that?”

“I don’t know,” Diana replied, looking away from him and staring at her feet. “Part of me says that yes, I can. But I know myself, Sabastin. I know how
I
am. I’ve worried about the kind of mother I would be. It’s obvious I wasn’t cut out for the job, and now you go and tell me that not only will I be a mother, but I’ll be mother to my greatest rival reborn.” She shook her head, tears filling her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. “What if I cannot?”

“I believe in you, Diana,” Sabastin said, reaching out and wrapping his arms around her from behind so his fingers were clasped around her belly. “I believe in you.”

“What will we call her?” Diana whispered, placing her hands over his.

I took a step back and shook my head. My mother, the unbendable, unbreakable Diana Cortez was saying she would try to raise me knowing I was her rival reborn, knowing I may have taken the place of her child.