Heterosexual
✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧
"You never have to prove yourself to anyone who doesn't accept you for who you are."
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Post by ✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧ on Apr 28, 2020 19:14:10 GMT -5
After Seth was gone, Morgan was left staring at the place he had been for the gods know how long. Longer than he should have stood there, certainly. Finally, with a low curse, he spun around and sprang into action.
Unlike his friend, Morgan did not have countless portal dimensions stuffed full of everything most precious to him, or all the other essentials needed when one was running away. No, he had to tear through his rooms like a madman, grabbing all those things and shoving them into a duffel bag. Then he had to throw on his armor and weapons belt (because carrying that stuff was just not practical), and grab his elf-forged Rider sword. He strapped it to his back as he strode from his rooms.
After graduating, every Rider was given an elven sword, with a blade that matched perfectly in color and jewel toned brightness the color of their dragon's scales. Most Riders carried it on their person whenever they left the city. Seth was the exception, but Morgan had no doubt his friend's sword was still always with him. Seth just didn't have many chances to fight with it. Swordplay wasn't his style.
It was, however, Morgan's. Of course, no one knew how good he really was with his sword. Everyone believed Silas was the most skilled sword fighter of their age group, possibly even the most skilled swordsman of their entire generation. Morgan had never done anything to make them think otherwise. Like with everything else, Morgan downplayed his physical skills, to the point where it was clear he was very competent, but not so much that anyone thought he would one day be considered a "master," like Seth was thought to be a master archer and Silas a master swordsman.
That was what he had been taught to do, long before he ever came to the House.
Morgan reached the top of the staircase and halted. Then he slowly backed up, praying the gathered Riders down in the foyer — Order Riders — wouldn't see him. As soon as he was out of sight, he spun on his heel and ran to the nearest window.
The two story drop onto the grass along the side of the House should have put him off of jumping — especially when two stories for this place was closer to three stories anywhere else. It didn't. Such things never had. Morgan was constantly hiding his true physical abilities, while at the same time always testing their limits.
So without a second thought, he pushed open the window, swung up onto the sill, and stepped out into thin air.
He dropped like a stone, landed as light as a cat, and ducked into a roll. He came up in a crouch, a grin on his face. He jumped right up and started running. He didn't check himself as much as he usually did, and within no time he was at the dragon stables.
Kyon, alerted to what was going on, dropped from the lookout ledge and landed in front of his Rider. He had his saddle in his talons, and Morgan wasted no time putting it on him. Then he climbed up and they were off.
The flight to Cresseida's home was swift. Kyon landed in the backyard, and by the time Morgan's feet hit the ground, the back door was open and the Vera women were stepping onto the porch with hopeful expressions. Morgan almost felt bad when he saw those expressions fall. If they survived the coming shitstorm, Morgan was going to kick Seth's ass until the bugger promised to visit his family more often.
Despite their obvious disappointment that he wasn't Seth, Cresseida's smile was warm and genuine as he approached. "Morgan. It's so good to see you. Is everything alright?"
Morgan sighed. "I'm afraid not, Mrs. Vera. Not by a long shot."
The two women exchanged a look. It was Cami who demanded, "Seth? Is he okay?"
Morgan hesitated. "He is," he said carefully. "He's currently racing toward danger, but I'm pretty sure he'll survive it." Physically, at least. Morgan was not so sure about Seth's mental health if he accomplished what needed to be done.
Cami sucked in a breath, but Cresseida waved him in and guided her daughter toward the door. "I think you had better come in," she said, "and explain to us what's going on."
So Morgan explained. He didn't really want to — most of these secrets weren't his to share — but Seth had asked him to get his family out. If telling them the truth, the whole truth, was what it took to do that, then so be it.
When he was done, he sat back and looked back and forth between Cami's stunned expression to Cresseida's carefully blank one. Both women were concerningly pale. Morgan was about to offer to get them drinks when Cresseida spoke.
"Cami, go pack," she said. "It's time to go."
Cami drew in a shaky breath, and Morgan tensed. But she just nodded and stood up. "Right," she whispered.
"Pack light," Morgan told her as she headed for the stairs. "Kyon can carry a lot, but four people and all their worldly possessions is a lot. So just grab the essentials, and anything you absolutely can't live without. Try to keep it all to one bag."
Cami nodded and left without saying anything. Morgan thought she might be in shock. He couldn't blame her. It wasn't easy learning your brother killed people for a living in the name of keeping you safe from a tyrannical woman who just happened to be his birth mother.
Cresseida stood up, drawing his attention. "Stay with Cami," she told him. "There are things I need to take care of in town. I won't be long."
Morgan jumped to his feet and blocked her path to the door. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Cresseida, you can't leave. I mean, we have to leave, but like, leave town. It's too dangerous for you to go off on your own. As soon as Genevieve figures out what's going on, she'll send people here. After you, and Cami. I promised Seth I would protect you, and I can't do that if you leave."
Cresseida smiled, which was the last thing Morgan expected her to do. She stepped closer and placed one hand against his cheek. "It's okay, Morgan. Protect Cami. Leave without me if you have to. If not, I'll be back." She stepped around him, and Morgan was too startled to stop her.
He watched her leave, reminded of the moment from only an hour ago when Seth had left. He refused to linger this time, and forced himself into action. He hurried up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time, and stopped in front of Cami's door. It was half open. He knocked.
There was a sniffle, followed by, "Come in."
He pushed the door open but only took one step over the threshold. The room was a mess, and it was only partially because of the haphazard packing she was doing. There was a bag open on her bed, but it looked like Cami had just been throwing random stuff in it. It was clear she'd been crying more than anything, but Morgan pretended not to notice.
"How's packing going?" he asked.
"Fine." She upended a drawer onto her bed and started tossing the pile of shirts in one of two directions: toward the bag at the end of her bed, or away over her shoulder. "Where's Mom?"
"She's… tying up loose ends," Morgan answered evasively. "Do you need any help?"
"No, Morgan, I do not need help picking out my underwear."
Morgan blinked. "Uh… that's not exactly what I —"
She threw a shoe at him. It hit his chest and he caught it reflexively before it hit the floor. "Damn it, why does he have to be so damn noble?" she burst out. "What makes him think he's worth so much less than us? What, Morgan?"
Morgan was stunned silent. He was pretty sure his mouth was gaping like a fish, but he couldn't quite gather the focus to rectify it.
Cami swept on without appearing to notice. "How did he come to be this way? You grew up with him. You have to know. What did they do to him in that place that made him like this? Please, Morgan. This isn't… this isn't fair. Seth is good, so good. He can't be a killer. Not because of me. He can't." She broke down, her hands lifting to cover her face, and Morgan finally remembered how to move.
He muttered a curse and dropped the shoe as he crossed the room to pull Cami into his arms. "Hey, hey. Cami. No, never. What Seth has done, it is not because of you. It's Genevieve's doing, and no one else's. She struck Seth where she thought he was weakest. But she was wrong. His love for you and your mom doesn't make him weak. It's made him strong, which is why I know you'll see him again. And then you two can sit down and have a very, very long chat."
Cami sniffed. "That's all well and good," she said, her voice tear-clogged. "But it doesn't answer my question.
Morgan sighed. "Which question?" he asked, resigned.
She looked up at him, her face tear streaked. "What did they do to him at that House to make him believe he's worth so much less than the rest of us?"
Damn. That was a hard one. Morgan rubbed the back of his head to buy him some time before answering. "It's not — I mean, I wouldn't… phrase it that way, exactly. It's not so much that he thinks he's less. More like… he has you guys on a pedestal, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you stay safe up there. You guys, you and your mom, and even Callum, you mean the world to Seth. And it was Cresseida, not Genevieve, who taught him to protect those he cares about. To stand up for those who can't protect themselves. It's one of his best qualities."
Cami was quiet for so long Morgan started to wonder if she had fallen asleep. It would be quite the feat, considering she was standing up. But no. She finally moved, leaning back and wiping the tears from her face. She straightened her spine, threw her shoulders back, and met his gaze. "You're right. But you forgot you."
Morgan opened his mouth, then closed it. Tried again: "I… forgot… me?"
Cami rolled her eyes, and Morgan almost sagged with relief. That was the Cami everyone knew and loved. "Yeah, dummy. You're someone Seth cares about too. You've got your own pedestal. You're worth saving."
"Oh. Right." Morgan already knew that, but while he was truly touched and honoured to mean that much to someone, the same way Seth meant that much to him, he couldn't help feeling guilty for it too. A weight had lifted off his shoulders when he told Seth he was a spy (despite the argument that suggested otherwise), but there was still another, heavier one that had been there for so long he wasn't sure he could ever be rid of it. Especially now, as he wondered: would Seth feel so driven to protect him if he knew the final truth Morgan was hiding?
Cami started to say more, but just then the front door banged open and Cresseida called frantically, "Morgan!"
Morgan and Cami exchanged a wide eyed glance, and then Morgan was out the door. He didn't bother with the stairs. He just hopped nimbly over the banister and dropped to the first floor. He landed in a half-crouch a foot in front of Cresseida, and while his heart was racing his outward appearance was calm as he asked, "What's wrong?"
Morgan's sudden appearance, coupled with his calm demeanor, seemed to help Cresseida find her own calm. She took a deep breath, and while it was clear she was still deeply worried, she found her cool and told him, "I can't find Callum."
She went on to explain that when she left, she had done so with two purposes in mind. One was to secure her shop and ensure it would be safe until she could return. The other had been to get Callum. He had his own apartment in the city, not too far from the shop. But when she got there, there had been no sign of her son.
When she was done, Morgan paced for a minute, muttering curses. He should have known better than to leave finding Callum to the last minute. The guy wasn't the same ball of restless energy as Seth or Morgan, but he was rarely in one place for any length of time.
"Damn it." Morgan spun back to Cresseida and Cami, who had joined her mother in watching him pace. "Okay. You two need to finish packing and get on Kyon. He'll keep you safe while I look for Callum. Okay? I'll find him, I promise. But you two can't stay here."
They looked like they very much wanted to argue, but after sharing a long glance they agreed to finish packing and wait with Kyon, to Morgan's great relief. He stuck around only long enough to make sure they were doing as promised, then took off for town.
Morgan searched for over an hour. He started at Callum’s apartment and used tracking spells to trace his path from there. But the trail met a dead-end at the park. There was no sign of Callum there, which made no sense, but all the other spells Morgan tried failed. Callum, it seemed, had vanished.
He would have kept searching — would have looked all day if that’s what it took — but he wasn’t given the choice. As he was leaving the park, muttering to himself about idiot friends and their idiot brothers, someone stepped into his path.
Morgan had been looking down, so the first thing he saw were the person’s boots. Black. Tactical. Good for fighting and flying. Rider boots. His gaze drifted up. Black pants, made of the tough but flexible material used for flying leathers. Morgan’s gaze lifted higher. Broad male chest clad in a black shirt and a dark grey flying jacket.
Morgan finally lifted his gaze to Silas’s smug face. “Oh dear,” he said cheerfully. “It looks like Genevieve is short-handed, if she sent you after me instead of Seth. Or is it just because she knows she’ll never catch him and Stel up?”
Silas’s smirk was replaced by a scowl. “Everything’s always a joke to you. Well, it’s time to get real, Morgan. I’ve been handed your death warrant. I hope you said your goodbyes, because you won’t get another chance.”
Moving fast as only a well-trained Rider could, Silas whipped out a large hunting dagger and drove it up toward Morgan’s heart.
Only Morgan was no longer there. There was only one creature faster than a Dragon Rider, and that was an elf. Morgan was both. Silas had barely drawn the dagger before Morgan was six feet away, perched on the back of a bench. He grinned. “Too slow.”
Silas stared, shocked. “How did you —”
“I have a secret to tell you, Silas,” Morgan interrupted. “Remember all those practice fights? Remember how I was always just too slow to beat you? Well, I was holding back. For years, I’ve been holding back. Genevieve will know why. But my days of holding back are over. And you can tell Genevieve I said that. Bye, Silas.”
And before Silas could say another word or go for a throwing knife, Morgan whirled around and bolted, swift as a deer and just as fast. Silas gave chase, but he soon fell far behind as Morgan practically flew through the city. He left the streets the first chance he got. He ducked into an alley that dead-ended at a ten foot brick wall and vaulted up onto it. From there he jumped up onto the nearest roof, and then he started running again, hopping easily from roof to roof as he headed toward the city wall.
Kyon found him before he reached it. Morgan changed direction slightly, jumped across a wide alley, and climbed to a higher roof. As he crouched on the edge, breathing only a little heavy, the wind of Kyon’s passing ruffled his hair. Kyon back-flapped, hovering at the far edge of the roof, waiting.
Morgan ran toward him and leaped off the roof into his talons. Kyon immediately started flying, gaining speed and altitude as quickly as possible while Morgan climbed onto his back. He found Cresseida and Cami there, both strapped in and holding on tight, their bags tied to the back of the saddle behind them.
Morgan sat down backwards, facing the two women rather than Kyon’s head. He wished he had better news, but he didn’t. All he could do was watch their hopeful faces dim as he shook his head in answer to their silent question: No, he hadn’t found Callum.
He had failed.
They flew through the day, mostly in silence. Morgan knew part of it was because it was hard to hear with the wind of their passing, but he also knew the bigger reason was because Cresseida and Cami were trying to hold themselves together. Seth had gone off to fight a very talented killer, and Callum was missing while they had a powerful mad woman after them. That tended to create a mood that wasn't really conductive for conversation.
At nightfall Kyon landed in a forest clearing to give everyone a break from flying. Morgan offered to build a fire and make a quick meal, but both women declined. He didn't try to change their minds. He let the break last as long as he dared, then got them back on Kyon and back in the air. Morgan didn't know for sure that they were being followed, but he also couldn't be sure they weren't.
So they flew through the night. Cami fell asleep, her head pillowed on her mother's lap, but Cresseida just gazed off into the star filled sky, her expression giving away nothing that was going on inside.
Dawn was about an hour off when they finally arrived. Their destination: a two story farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.
The house was in a forest clearing. There was no road or path leading to it, though a creek ran along the east side of the meadow. The forest and clearing were both showing signs of autumn, but that only made the place more lovely, almost picturesque. Morgan had never been there before, but he knew it was a Rebel safehouse. It was meant to be the safehouse he brought Seth to, after getting him out of the Order. That, obviously, hadn't worked out, but he saw no reason why the house wouldn't work to hide Seth's family instead.
Kyon landed in the clearing in front of the house. He barely fit, and had to maneuver carefully to avoid crashing into the house or knocking down a bunch of trees. Once he settled, Morgan and the Veras slid to the ground. "Wait here," Morgan said. "I'm going to scout the area."
"I thought this was a safehouse?" Cami asked sleepily.
"It is, but I just want to be sure."
The women nodded, and Morgan went ahead and conducted a thorough search of the house and the immediate perimeter. As expected, he found nothing amiss, but he felt better having checked.
He returned to Kyon's side, where Cresseida and Cami had pulled their bags from his back and stood waiting. "All clear," Morgan told them. "The place is ours."
"Thank you, Morgan." Cresseida led the way inside. The house was of medium size, with a living room, kitchen, and dining room on the first floor, plus a small office space and a powder room. It was clean, if a little dusty, and furnished sparsely but with well-maintained furniture. The kitchen held only nonperishables, but Morgan would worry about that later.
Upstairs were four bedrooms, on the smaller side but each had its own closet and bathroom. Morgan picked the room closest to the stairs, with a view of the front lawn. He dropped his bag on the bed but didn't linger. He stepped back into the hall. The two bedrooms Cresseida and Cami had chosen were closed; the fourth was open. Morgan left the women to their privacy and headed downstairs to the office.
Inside he found what he had noticed on his initial search: a single pen and paper, laid neatly in the middle of the otherwise empty desk. Morgan knew, without really knowing how he knew, that the pen and/or paper was magicked. Whatever he wrote would be sent, or otherwise read by, someone in the Rebels. It was how he was meant to contact them, to let them know he was here.
Morgan circled the desk and sank down into the chair. He leaned back, arms folded behind his head, and put his booted feet up on the desk, his eyes on the paper. Part of him expected it to start talking, or for words to start writing themselves across the page. This didn't happen, of course, but one can hope.
After several minutes, Morgan finally dropped his feet back to the ground and sat forward. He picked up the pen, put it to paper, and started writing.
Morgan had just watched his finished letter turn into a fiery phoenix and fly out the window — not what he'd been expecting, but impressive nonetheless — when Cresseida appeared in the doorway. Morgan stood up hastily. "Cresseida. Are you okay?"
She smiled, wan but genuine. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"
Morgan leaned back against the desk, hands braced on either side. "Because one of your children is missing. One is in a safehouse with a threat hanging over her head. And one's fate is currently unknown. That's enough to make any mother the definition of 'not okay,' if you ask me."
Slowly, as if she was fighting with everything she had but still losing, her shoulders slumped. Her gaze dropped to the floor and she rubbed her forehead absently. It was something he had seen Seth do many times, when he was worried or frustrated or just plain out of options and he was trying not to show it, and the effort brought forth a headache. Morgan hadn't realized it was a habit he had picked up from Cresseida.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'll keep Cami safe. I'll do everything in my power to find Callum. And Seth… well, if I figure out where he is, I'll find a way to help him too."
"No, Morgan," Cresseida said, surprising him. She looked up and met his gaze. "You leave Seth to do what he has to do. We have to trust he'll be okay. As for Cami and Callum… I know you will. I trust you. I just… wish I wasn't so useless."
Morgan's eyes widened. "Useless? Cresseida, you're not useless. Far from it. Just because you wouldn't be very effective in a fight doesn't mean you don't have things to contribute. You're our rock, Cresseida. The glue holding us together. That's the most important role you can have."
Her smile that time was amused. "You're talking as if we're some superhero team. I'm pretty sure Cami and I are more like damsels in distress."
Morgan grinned. "Well, you are damsels, and there is definitely a good amount of distress. But you can handle it, both of you. I know you can."
"Thank you, Morgan."
"You're welcome. Now, if you're looking for something to do to keep busy, I saw an interesting assortment of food in the kitchen. Maybe we could go through it to find something edible?"
Cresseida laughed. "You boys, always thinking about your stomachs."
"Well, yes. How else do you think we get the energy for looking this awesome?"
She laughed again as she turned and headed for the kitchen. "Alright, Mr. Awesome. Let's find you some food."
Unfortunately, food would have to wait. Just then, Kyon let out a low warning sound that was halfway between a growl and a hiss. Morgan froze, just as Kyon's voice spoke in all their heads: There's a dragon approaching. It's coming up fast.
Morgan swore. So they had been followed. Not good. Not good at all.
Cami came running down the stairs, eyes wide. Cresseida and Morgan were at her side quickly, and then Morgan ushered them to the kitchen. "Quickly, in here," he said, throwing open the pantry door. He moved one of the low shelves, leaving an empty space on the wall about three feet high and three feet wide. He pushed against one side, and the wall opened away like a door. "Safe room," he explained at their surprised looks. "Get in, and don't come out until I tell you it's okay."
"Morgan…" Cami was staring at the little door with very wide eyes and pale cheeks.
"It's okay, Cami. It's bigger in there than it looks. Trust me. I need you to get in and stay in. Please."
She was clearly reluctant, but she set her jaw stubbornly and nodded once. She dropped down and crawled inside quickly. Cresseida gave Morgan's arm a squeeze before following her daughter into the safe room. The door shut behind her, and Morgan returned the shelf to its original spot. Then he left the pantry and ran out the front door
Kyon was standing in the clearing, his back to the house as he stared at the fast approaching dragon. Morgan stopped on the porch. "Can you bring him down?"
Kyon crouched. I can try.
Morgan felt fear coil in his stomach. He forced it down. "Be careful. Don't do anything too Stel-like."
Kyon huffed a laugh. No problem. He spread his wings and launched himself skyward. As he angled upward and toward the approaching dragon, Morgan saw it change course slightly to meet him. Kyon’s scales shone gold in the rising sun, almost like a sun himself. The other dragon’s scales caught the sunlight as it banked, and Morgan saw them shimmer like emeralds.
Morgan immediately started going through a list of all the green dragons he knew from the Order, but it was hard to concentrate as he watched the two dragons get closer and closer. Then he didn’t have to bother with his list, for at that moment Kyon identified the dragon. Morgan felt his insides twist. Of all the Riders Genevieve could have sent, why did it have to be him?
When the dragons collided, Morgan felt the impact as if he was up there with them. He heard their outraged roars, saw Kyon snap at the dragon’s Rider as he forced his way onto the other dragon’s back and began bearing him down toward the ground. The emerald dragon tried to stay in the air, but Kyon now had his talons on the Rider. They started to descend, fast.
Morgan launched himself off the porch and started running. As soon as he entered the forest he lost sight of the dragons, but he had seen where their downward trajectory was most likely to put them when they landed. So Morgan headed there, as quickly as his legs would carry him.
He felt the ground shake when they landed. Morgan barely faltered. He emerged from the trees into a clearing that had just been made bigger by the dragons knocking down a bunch of trees. Kyon still had the Rider held captive in one talon, but the other dragon had changed their positions and was pinning him to the ground. He wasn’t dealing any real damage — yet — but it was still a scary position for any Rider to find their dragon in.
“Everest!” Morgan shouted. “Let him go!”
The emerald dragon whipped his head around with a snarl. Or what? We all know Goldy doesn’t have what it takes to hurt us.
Morgan set his jaw, and redirected his attention to the furiously struggling figure in Kyon’s claws. “Devon, call off your beast. This fight is between me and you!”
“Then call off yours first, Morgan,” Devon called back. “Unless you would rather see which dragon can deal a killing blow faster.”
To bolster his Rider’s threat, Everest moved his teeth closer to Kyon’s throat.
Morgan felt sick. It would be quicker, easier, for Kyon to simply crush Devon before Everest could move an inch. But Everest wasn’t wrong when he said Kyon wasn’t a killer. He would hesitate, and it would get him killed.
"Alright," he said quietly. Then again, louder, "Alright! Kyon, let him go. But Devon, if you hurt him…" Morgan wasn't a killer either, but that would change in a heartbeat if Devon betrayed his word and had Everest hurt Kyon.
Kyon's claws opened slowly. Everest stayed poised over him until Devon's feet hit the ground. Then he backed off, but he didn't let Kyon up. Everest was a year younger than Kyon, but he was bigger, bulkier, and meaner. Kind of like his Rider.
Devon brushed off his clothes as if he had gotten up off the ground rather than Kyon's clean talons. As usual, he was dressed way too nicely for an assassin. It made the sword strapped to his waist look out of place. He turned to smile condescendingly at Morgan. "Hello, Morgan. Long time no see."
Morgan took a single step closer and pointed at Everest. "Get him off my dragon, Devon. Right now."
Devon's smile turned mocking. "Or what?" he asked, parroting his dragon with the disdain filled question. "You were always second best, Morgan. Not even. You were third best, coasting on Seth's glory. You said this fight was to be between me and you. Well, Everest is going to keep Kyon well out of the way while we settle this. Don't want him acting up at the last minute when I beat you."
Morgan shook his head slowly. "What happened to you, Devon? You were always a jerk, but I never thought you would fall so readily under Genevieve's thumb. Does she have something on you? Or were you always just… downplaying how nasty you really are?"
Devon arched one dark brow. "Does it matter? I'm one of Genevieve's lackeys. She's given me an order. I intend to follow through. Arianna failed her mission. So did Silas. I will not."
Morgan went still. "Ari? What was Ari's mission?"
Devon looked impatient, but he answered, "To stop Seth from leaving House grounds, by any means necessary. She failed. He escaped, and now Genevieve is pissed. She wants you dead, and she wants Seth's family thrown in her dungeon. That should teach him not to go against Genevieve in future, don't you think?"
Morgan laughed softly. There was no amusement in the sound. "Oh, he'll learn something, alright. Just not what Genevieve thinks he will."
Devon rolled his eyes. "Whatever. It's no longer your business, as you'll soon be dead. Shall we?" He drew his sword, its blade a gleaming emerald.
Morgan sighed and pulled his own sword free of its sheath. "Fine. But I feel I should warn you: I was only third place because I wanted to be."
His words made Devon frown, but before he could speak, Morgan crossed the distance between them. Devon jerked backward, his sword coming up automatically to block Morgan's strike. He flinched backward at the unexpected force, and the next thing he knew, Morgan had swung again and knocked Devon's sword right out of his hand. He spun out with a roundhouse, sending Devon sprawling, and a heartbeat later he was standing over him, his sword point at Devon's throat.
Devon lay there, stunned and gaping up at Morgan. "How — How did you… How could you possibly move so fast?"
Morgan glared down at him. "Get your dragon off of mine and I might answer you."
Devon's expression turned incredulous. "Are you kidding? That's the only leverage I have. You make a move against me, Everest will kill him."
Morgan blinked once, slowly. "You just saw how fast I moved. You really think Everest can move faster?"
Devon shifted uneasily, but he didn't back down. "Do it, then," he said. "If you had it in you to kill, Genevieve would have recruited you a long time ago. You're no killer, Morgan Reilly. You don't have it in you, and nothing will change that."
"You say that like it's an insult, Devon." Morgan leaned closer, the tip of his blade drawing a spot of blood on Devon's throat. "But it's not. It's easy to kill. Taking life is easy, Devon. But staying your hand? Showing mercy to someone who you know doesn't deserve it? That's harder. Do you know what my specialty is, Devon?"
Devon looked a little startled by the abrupt topic change, but he just shrugged one unconcerned shoulder. "Not really. Something to do with siphoning, but a lot of magics siphon off something in nature. That's how magic works."
"Life," Morgan told him. "I siphon life, Devon. This sword?" He held it up, moving it away from Devon's throat, to his obvious surprise. "I don't need it to kill you. All I need to do is reach for your life force… and suck it from your body."
Devon, who had been sitting up, fell back onto one elbow. "Right. You can do that, just like that?" He snapped his fingers. "I don't believe you. If you have that kind of power, why hasn't Genevieve forced you to work for her?"
"Because she doesn't know," Morgan answered. "Not really. She knows I siphon life, but she thinks I can only take life from plants. She doesn't realize I can take it from anywhere, because I didn't know. Until I almost did."
Devon arched one brow. "Almost?"
"Seth stopped me. Taught me how to control it. And helped me hide just how powerful my magic really is."
Devon suddenly sat forward, his expression intent and demanding. "Wait. Does that mean Genevieve questioned him, about you? And he lied to her?"
Morgan frowned. "Yes. Seth lies to her all the time. Why is that surprising?"
Devon got hastily to his feet. Morgan backed up, but Devon didn't look interested in continuing the fight. Quite the opposite, actually. He looked like he had seen a ray of hope for the first time in a long time. "Seth can deny her? But he's part of the Order. How is he not bound to her like everyone else?"
Morgan stared. "What do you mean, bound to her? I thought you joined her Order willingly?"
Devon shrugged. "Yes, we were willing, all of us. At first. But some of us… some of us became less willing after a while. But by then, it was too late. She has us trapped, and we can't disobey her without serious consequence. Some don't have to worry about it, because they like what they do for her." He shook his head slowly. "But some of us don't."
Morgan suddenly felt cold all over. It took him a minute to find his voice. "Devon. Devon, are you telling me that… that the people of the Order are, essentially, Genevieve's puppets?"
Devon looked affronted at that definition, but he nodded. "Yes. That's what I'm telling you. Seth should be the same way. He should have no choice when it comes to obeying Genevieve. He should not be able to lie to her. So how is it possible he can?"
Morgan shook his head. "I don't know," he whispered. But this… this explained so much. Too much. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I want out. Rumor has it you can get me out."
Morgan jolted. "What? What rumor? Who said —"
Devon smirked. "You did. Just now."
Morgan stared at him, then turned away and started stringing together curses. Devon watched him with one brow arched slightly. "Impressive combination," he commented dryly.
Morgan whirled toward him. "Okay, better question: How are you telling me this? Surely Genevieve gave you some order about spilling her secrets."
Devon nodded in acknowledgement. "She did. But her newest order cancels that one out for the moment."
Morgan eyed him warily. "What order?"
"'Kill Morgan,'" he quoted. "'By any means necessary.' I've decided that the easiest way to kill you is to make you trust me. I believe it will work, so the magic binding me is letting me do what I have to to meet that end."
Morgan gaped at him for a good minute before sputtering out a response. "That's — You can't just — Are you crazy? What makes you think I'll ever trust you, after you just admitted your evil plan?"
Devon put his hands in his pockets. "You'll come to trust me," he said confidently. "It's in your nature. And it's not like I want to kill you. I don't. But I have no choice. So, no hard feelings, when it happens. And in the meantime… Everest, get off Kyon, please."
Morgan's gaze shot to his dragon, part of him almost expecting "get off" to be code for "kill him." But Everest didn't kill Kyon. He stepped off of him, and walked calmly to stand behind his Rider. Kyon scrambled to his feet, none the worse for wear, and took up a similar position with Morgan.
Morgan slowly returned his gaze to Devon. "That doesn't make you trustworthy. I don't trust you. I won't."
"Yes you will." Devon moved to retrieve his sword. He sheathed it. "But not yet. You've got Seth's family to protect, and I'm not stupid enough to try going near them right now. But one day soon you'll need my help, and when you do, I'll come. Just break this, and I'll know."
He tossed something. Morgan caught it automatically. It was a marble, green and black and white, like an eye. A dragon eye. Morgan looked up at Devon from beneath his lashes. "Marbles are hard to break."
"Something tells me you'll find a way around that." Devon turned away and climbed into Everest's saddle. "I'll hold off on killing you as long as I can, Morgan," he said as he strapped himself in — using his backup straps, Morgan noticed. Kyon must have broken the others when he yanked Devon out of the saddle earlier. Once secure, he lifted his dark gaze to Morgan's. "But I will kill you. Trust me on that."
He grinned as Morgan made a face at him, and without another word Everest took to the skies, the wind of his launch sending Morgan's hair and clothes flying about. He watched them, Kyon poised to spring after them if they started heading toward the safehouse. But they didn't. They flew back the way they'd come, without a backward glance or any sign of hesitation.
After a minute, Morgan spoke. "Well. That was weird."
But informative, Kyon replied. Haven't the Rebels been trying to figure out if Genevieve uses a form of mind control on her people, and if so, how?
"Yes. I suppose it was," Morgan mused. It was something the Rebels had asked him to watch for. And he'd tried, but Seth was the only Order Rider he really cared about, so he was the only one Morgan watched. Not in a spying capacity, but just… in general. Morgan had never seen Seth do anything against his will, not really. He did things to keep Morgan and his family safe, but in the end, that was still Seth's choice. And besides: if Genevieve could just mind control Seth into doing her bidding, why did she need to bother with threats at all?
Which meant, if Devon's claims were true, that Seth was somehow immune to whatever spell or magic Genevieve used to control her people. But how?
Morgan contemplated all the possibilities as he and Kyon flew back to the safehouse to tell Cresseida and Cami that the coast was clear.
Option 1: Seth was Genevieve's son (though neither liked to admit it). Maybe that awarded him some resistance to Genevieve's powers.
Option 2: Seth's father had been the most powerful Rider of his time, more so even than Genevieve. Perhaps Seth inherited something from him that gave him immunity to Genevieve.
Option 3: Seth himself was more powerful than he realized, and that was how he evaded the mind control.
Morgan thought up half a dozen other options, but most were less viable, save one: Seth's will was simply stronger than Genevieve's, which helped him fight her powers without ever realizing it.
That's the one that had Morgan's vote, though part of him thought it would definitely be cooler if magic was involved somehow.
Morgan wasted no time returning to the pantry and freeing the Vera women. He then explained what had happened, leaving out the part where Devon spilled Genevieve's secrets. And the part about earning Morgan's trust as a means to killing him. Oh, and the summoning-him-with-a-magic-marble part. He left that out too.
So, basically, he told them he fought the bad guy, won, and scared him away with his tail between his legs. Which… was more or less true. Morgan just left out the whole middle part.
After taking a minute to absorb all that (Cresseida) and ask endless questions (Cami), the two women turned to cooking to distract themselves from the shitty hand they had been dealt.
Morgan left them to it and returned to the office. Where he found, to his surprise, a fiery phoenix sitting on the desk. "Uh…"
At the sound of his voice, the phoenix burst apart into ashes that settled in the shape of a piece of paper.
Intrigued, Morgan crossed the room and picked up the page. It was a response to his letter. He read it quickly, and when he was done, he was only a little surprised when it crumbled back into ash.
Morgan wiped his hands off. "Huh. That is some cool magic." Then he sighed. All there was left to do now was wait. Wait, and watch. And, hopefully, eat some of Cresseida's cooking.
"Always look on the bright side," he said cheerily as he headed back to the kitchen.
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