Labyrinth of Stars(72)

“Did you tell the Aetar about us?” I asked him again, my voice little more than a broken whisper.

He didn’t even twitch. I wasn’t sure he heard me. His gaze had gone distant again.

“Jack,” I said, and Zee leapt over me, snarling. He landed badly, his legs collapsing so that he banged his chin into the ground, but that didn’t slow his momentum. In less than a heartbeat: eye to eye with my grandfather.

“Truth,” rasped the little demon. “Truth is owed, Meddling Man.”

Jack blinked, coming back to himself—to us. I would have thought he was going senile if that wasn’t completely impossible. But if something else was the matter, if he’d sold us out, and there was a reason beyond his control, forced against his will . . .

“Of course I told them,” he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

I stared at him. “I don’t understand. You told the Aetar.”

“I didn’t inform them about your child.” Jack took a long drink from his wine bottle; his hand shook, ever so slightly.

Zee snarled and knocked the bottle away. I wanted to do the same thing, except with his head. Rage welled up, so tight and hard I could have hurled it like a stone. “You betrayed us.”

He gave me a sharp glance, but there was a hint of guilt in his face. “No.”

Zee pushed up hard against me, as did Raw and Aaz—watching him with predatory calm. I said, “You’re the reason we’re in this fucking mess.”

“No,” he said, again. “You are. You and Grant. Your very existence is the reason you are in this situation. That is no one’s fault.”

I closed my eyes, remembering my grandfather’s passionate protectiveness. Always, he had pushed the need for secrecy—even when it had become clear that we’d crossed the line, that it was only a matter of time before the Aetar realized what Grant was—and what I had become.

He was right—our existence had created this situation. But that didn’t excuse the rest. “I need an explanation. Or so help me, Jack, I will do something I regret.”

“Like kill me?” A bitter smile touched his mouth. “Let’s not get dramatic.”

“Wolf,” rasped Zee, in a quiet, warning voice.

A look passed between them—old and full, and secret. Neither Zee nor my grandfather had ever looked at me that way. For all that I was his granddaughter, Jack had a more profound connection to the boys, a shared history I could never understand. Too much murder between them, worlds full of blood, and regret. My ancestors were the afterthought, nothing but checkmate. What had come before us was the long game.

“I only meant to take a look,” Jack said, still staring at Zee. “I’ve been away from my kind for a long time. I was lonely for them.”

“Tough,” I said, and he tore his gaze from the demon to meet mine.

“Yes,” he replied, ignoring my sarcasm, “it was. For eons all we had were each other. And for eons after we found flesh, we still could not be far apart. Aetar share worlds because we find comfort in knowing we are not alone. Even if we despise each other, we still find comfort. Because no one else knows. No one else can imagine what it means to be us. And we are almost as afraid of losing that as we are of losing flesh.”

Jack relaxed into the grass, his shoulders and knees popping. A decaying human body: fit skin for an immortal. “When we imprison our kind, it is torture. We know it is torture. We strip the flesh, we isolate. Imagine the void, my dear. Imagine being trapped there.”

“You’re not in prison.”

“I haven’t lost my flesh, but I am isolated. Ever since Sarai left . . .” He stopped, closing his eyes; for a moment, I saw real loss on his face. “I needed a reminder of what I am. So I used the crystal skull as a conduit for my true form, so that I could reenter the Labyrinth and . . . see . . . how the other Aetar fared on their worlds. Just a look. It was for you, as well. I wanted to know if they were coming here.”

“And they were.”

“They were merely thinking of it,” he said. “They already knew that two Aetar had died on this world and that their Messenger’s bonds had been broken. Something was wrong. They would have found out what, regardless of me.”

“You didn’t have to say anything at all.”

“I didn’t expect to be caught watching them,” he snapped. “Once I was seen, I had to give them something. I had to speak the truth. If I hadn’t, if I’d run . . . I would have risked coming off as a traitor. They already suspected as much.”

“You were afraid they would imprison you.”