Page 51 of Gryphon’s Fire

Prior to crawling into bed and claiming a few hours’ sleep before we needed to head to the airport, there was a final detail that needed clearing up. “I hate to add more weight to your already heavy load, Martin, but…” My gaze traveled toward Eldon’s closed door. “My brother and Vi and Blu. They’ll need tending while we’re gone.”

“Not a problem,” Martin automatically answered, only to have Grayson swat at him again.

With a huff, Grayson plopped back down and crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t call it a problem, but we’ll probably need some help. Henry will be eager to keep an eye on Vi and Blu.”

I hesitated. “I am loath to consider what the three of them might get up to.”

Grayson waved me off. “I’ll see if Elvira can keep an eye on them.”

My concerns instantly eased.

“As for Eldon, I can check in on him,” Grayson offered. “I’m sure Tabitha will be happy to help also. She’s got a nice, comforting demeanor.”

“That she does,” I easily agreed. Tabitha presented herself as a kind, elderly individual. One would hardly guess what a powerfully dangerous medium she was.

With a heavy sigh, I leaned forward, elbows on knees, my focus on Martin. “While I’m gone, I want you to look into a request for aid we’ve received. I think… I think it might be a good operation for Jima. I was thinking that even before what transpired today. Jima’s ready to get back in the field. I was concerned, but after what he said…I think he’s restless and needs to feel useful again.”

Martin’s features softened and a quiet “understood” was his only answer.

Slapping his hands on his thighs, Grayson stood and asked, “Anything else?”

I shook my head. “Not that I can think of.”

Lazarus said, “A few well wishes wouldn’t go amiss.”

Grayson’s grin was grim. “I’ll be happy to send them your way. Don’t know if they’ll help but can’t see that they’ll hurt either.” Concerned, Grayson asked, “Are you sure this is the best course? I don’t mean to doubt you, Keir, but I’m with everyone else. I don’t like it either. I don’t like the idea of you being so far away, so out of reach and out of range.”

“Thank you.” I rose to my feet, and Lazarus followed.

“Nothing to thank me for. My concern is kind of self-serving. I just found this family and I don’t fancy the idea of anything happening to it. Besides, if something happens to you, Martin will be maudlin for years. Decades maybe. Most likely that will interfere with the sex and⁠—”

“Sweet Gaia.” Martin tilted his head back. “The things you say.”

“I’m being serious,” Grayson defended. “Is it so wrong to enjoy having your thick co⁠—”

“Time to go.” Martin slapped a hand over Grayson’s mouth and tugged him toward the door. “Send me a text before you head out, and I expect daily updates. If I don’t hear from you, don’t think I’m not hopping on a plane and heading there myself. I’ve got buckets of dirt ready and waiting.”

Hand no longer covering his mouth, Grayson said, “He really does,” before he was tugged from the room. A waning “don’t die” followed him out the door.

“I’ll do my best,” I answered even though Grayson couldn’t hear.

“We’ll do our best,” Lazarus corrected. “Remember, where you go, I follow.”

I spun, fear spiraling within me. “Don’t say that. The girls, Vi and Blu, need you, and that’s saying nothing of the fact that I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Even if I fail and⁠—”

“You won’t fail.”

“But if I do. Don’t throw your life away because of that.” Panic was well and truly setting in. It was one thing to risk my life. Lazarus was a different matter entirely.

Lazarus’s forehead met my own, warm and comforting. “I have no intention of ‘throwing my life away.’ We will figure this out, Keir. And if you believe Vi and Blu would be fine without you, then you are gravely mistaken. Our nieces chose you. They chose to live here, with you as their protector and family member. Never forget that, Keir.”

My heart pounded with the responsibility lying there. “Let us rest for now. Tomorrow will take care of itself. It always does.”

Lazarus wasn’t wrong. That was the nature of time. It marched on at a constant pace, no matter how much we might wish it to slow or speed. Time was her own mistress, beholden to no one.

Eighteen

Lazarus