A knock resounded on the door. Benedict didn't move from his spot, continuing to work on his sketches, trying to ease his mind.
"Ben?" A muffled voice came through the door. It was Eric...Ben should have known this was coming, and took time in his answer. Finally, he assented, knowing this had to come eventually, "Come in."
Eric cautiously opened the door, peering inside before entering. Benedict couldn't blame him--if the situation were reversed, he'd be scared too. That's exactly what he looked like...scared. So, Ben decided to make him sweat for a bit.
"Benedict..." Eric said, trying to ascertain his brother's mood.
Ben didn't look up, "Have a seat," he said, "There's some cognac around here somewhere...I'll be with you in a moment." His kept his voice impassive, cold even.
"Um... all right." Eric entered, closing the door behind him. He sat on the couch, not looking for the cognac. Ben waited a few more minutes, scribbling down the last specs, and touching up his design before pushing away from his desk.
Ben's features were a careful study in neutrality. He approached, taking a seat on his favorite chair. "So," he started, "you killed one of my friends." Anger seeped in around the edges, but with recent relevations, he's willing to give Eric the benefit of the doubt. That should have been obvious.
"It was never my intention to kill anyone, Benedict. Believe me on that."
"Then what happened?" His jaw clenched involuntarily, as he listens.
"I tried to cast a spell. Simple little trick, puts the mind out cold for a bit. I've used it more times than I can count. Never did anything like what happened this time." Eric shook his head. "It was... bad, Ben. I don't know how else to say it. Something went terribly, terribly wrong. I'm not sure what... and now Dworkin says I may not be what I used to be anymore."
Dworkin? Damn... Benedict thought idly. He narrowed his eyes a moment, not in anger, but in scrutiny, "What did the old man think? Did he elaborate?" Any information would be welcome, he thought silently to his brother, unwilling to let much of any emotion show through.
"Apparently... as Dad explained it... my magical studies may have altered my being... to the point where I may have a severely adverse reaction to pattern magics." Eric's own face remained impassive, taking refuge in the technical terms and trying very hard not to think about what that actually means. Ben didn't blame him, not at all. That sort of thing would freak him out too.
"I'm not sure... whatever's left in any of my accounts here, perhaps. I'm not exactly able to replace a dead man, Ben. I'd think you'd know that as well as I."
"That goes without saying." He nodded again, jaw clenching once more, "I know." He was rather irritated that Eric brought it up, "But I think a formal apology, possibly in person, would be a good step." He glanced about the room, "I would mention that it was an accident, of course, but not the cause--or supposed cause--of it."
"Supposed cause? You act like you don't believe me." Eric was suspicious...on guard...good. He should be.
He heaved a small sigh, shaking his head slightly, "It's been a difficult time, Eric, I've heard news, of course, of your family..." He doesn't elaborate, figuring Eric already knows. Poor Jackie...out there all alone..
"News?" Eric didn't know? Ah, hell, I can't tell him...that damn oath... Benedict thought irritibly, moving onto the next subject.
"And then there's the mourning...as well as Gregory's death. Trying times, as I've said."
A somber nod. "And I did nothing but make them worse." Eric was feeling guilty...this was also good. Made him more malleable. Benedict shook his head slightly, for himself, dismissing the thought, and disliking what he was doing. A small part of him was disbelieving at how easy it was to do this, manipulate his brother. It shouldn't have been, and most likely he was missing something.
"As long as you're remorseful.." He frowns a bit, "I don't think you're responsible--no. You're not that callous, even when you were an ass."
"All the remorse in the world isn't worth a hill of beans in the end." Eric paused, weighing his words. Finally, "In the past three weeks, Ben, I've gone to hell, made it back, wound up bringing it to Amber, and have generally had an unpleasant time of things... and Gods only know what I've managed to do."
Ben's face softened marginally, "Is there anything I can help with?"
Eric nodded. "After... everything's resolved here," Eric stated, trying to avoid words like "funeral" or "mourning"... "I'd like you to help me with one single problem I have." He bit his lip hard and sighed heavily.
Benedict gave a small, wry smile, "Only one?" Closured in his room he might have been, he still heard about Eric's recent troubles.
"The only one that matters, Benedict." He closed his eyes and chews a bit more on his lip. "Jaq's been taken, Ben." Ah, he did know, was hoping for more news earlier.. Ben thought to himself, Poor Eric. This must be tearing him up. He was genuinely concerned for Eric, and Eric's daughter, but that damn oath kept him from doing anything immediately...and he couldn't even tell Eric about it. It was a damnable situation.
Benedict frowned a bit, but nodded slightly, "That's..." He didn't finish his statement but nodded again, "Have any idea of whom has taken her?"
"Sure do." He pushed back from the couch and walked over towards the desk. "Tell me, Ben... in all your time in Shadow, have you ever met anything that seemed as Real as you or I?"
He shook his head, "Not that I recall offhand, but then I wasn't preoccupied with the nature of everything I ran across."
Eric gave a hollow laugh. "I guess I was the lucky one, then." He grinned self-mockingly. "There is more to Heav'n and Earth than was taught us at Dworkin's knee, Benedict... too damned much. I don't know why the old man didn't tell us... maybe he doesn't know, or didn't want to let us know... whatever... still..." He looked out the window, "There's things out there. Things that are honestly and truly Evil, Ben... and they're Real. As real as you, or I, or the Pattern... maybe even Realer. Gods knows they may be older."
Ben reclined in his chair, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Surely this had nothing to do with what the old man said earlier...this couldn't have. But the feeling that it was all related stayed with him, no matter how hard he tried to shake it.
"They call themselves 'Old ones.' Or 'Ancients.' They're... impossible to describe." Eric was definitely distraught, "They're Evil, Benedict. And they're powerful. They... know things. They taught me for a while..." He shook his head. "I was young, and stupid, and very reckless."
A brow rose at that, but Benedict declined to comment on the 'young and stupid' part. "I see...why would they have taken her?" Damn, Eric, what have you been up to? Why didn't you tell me any of this earlier??
"I'm not positive. I think it's to use her in some sort of ritual... so much of their powers come off of the deaths of things... I can't imagine what the power of an Amberite's sacrifice could have to them... it'd have to be something worth mentioning, but... "
He nodded again, "Eric....I promise that I will do everything in my power to aid you in the recovery of your daughter... Once things are resolved here, as you said before." Once things are resolved...could be a long time, but Ben was willing to do what it took to help out. He loved his niece, and the thought of her defenseless and alone rankled him.
Benedict paused a moment, before adding, "I think you might want to ..." He hesistated, "... ask some of the others for help as well."
A nod. "Well, I don't have to worry about keeping things a secret anymore." Eric shook his head. "All those oaths I asked for, all the promises of silence... were worthless. Dworkin knew the moment she was born."
Benedict nodded again, "I can't say as that surprises me. The old man has far more tricks than we ever thought of." That was the truth, and then some.
"Thank you, Benedict..." On sudden inspiration, Eric grabbed a quill and started writing furiously on a blank sheet of parchment. Benedict got up, and wandered to his desk, confused as to what his brother was doing, before he could ask, Eric shoved the paper at him. The hasty writing read: "I've got a listening device on my person, can't say this publicly."
Eric snatched back the paper, and scribbled something else down. The new script read: "You've got an older brother."
Ben didn't comment but nodded his head. He altered his expression to indicate to Eric that he knew that already, though his heart started beating faster, knowing what Eric was scribbling next before he was done with it. The next message read: "He's still alive."
A pause before he nodded again, kind of shrugging his shoulders. Being fairly good at body talk, it indicated, 'I thought so...wasn't sure...' Ben strived to keep things off of his face...to keep a calm demeanor. That feeling in the pit of his stomach grew stronger, but he pushed it away for now.
Changing his tact, he clapped Eric on the shoulder, "Thank you for confiding in me..."
A nod. "Just thought you might be interested." No...not at all, Ben thought to himself sarcastically. He wondered if Eric knew how much that affected him, or if Dad told him anything of what happened to Ben's full brothers, so many years ago.
Eric made his goodbyes, and Benedict showed him out. Eric left a wake of questions behind him, and it wasn't until very late that Ben finally got to sleep.
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