Page 33 of Sanctuary

“Finn is my guest. The dickheads outside are soldiers-for-hire, and they’ve been hired by their client to apprehend Finn. If I kill them, that wouldn’t solve the problem, would it? It would just postpone it because we don’t know who the client is, and they will try again.”

The raven peered at Finn.

A few seconds passed.

A few more.

“Ha!” The raven cackled. “Karma!”

“What?”

“That’s the consequence of your own actions sitting in that chair. And this one was a long time coming.”

Roman stared at Finn. No, there was no way. “He isn’t mine.”

“Would that he was! If he were your child, that would be a miracle. One I would joyously welcome. If you managed to sire a son, I would strip naked and run around the woods like one of those Beltane nudists.”

Roman squeezed his eyes shut before his brain had a chance to grapple with that mental image. “Mother!”

“What is wrong with you? You are thirty-four years old. I can see gray hair on your head. How is it you haven’t made any babies yet?”

Void…

“Have you had yourself checked?”

“For what?” he snarled.

“For low sperm count.”

Roman groaned.

“How is your testosterone? Or is that you are having trouble sealing the deal? If you’re having equipment malfunctions, I have herbs for that—”

“Mother!” he roared.

“And now you are yelling at me. Because why not, go ahead, yell at your mother, who was in labor with you for two days.”

“Every year the labor gets longer. Maybe your memory isn’t what it used to be.”

The raven fell ominously silent. Oh shit.

“It’s been twelve years, sweetheart,” Mother said, sadness filling her voice.

Oh, Nav no.

“Every year you and I reenact this play, where I come and nag so you know we care, and every year you run away and refuse to talk about it. Let it go. Nobody blames you. Nobody ever blamed you, for it was never your fault. It’s time to rejoin the living, don’t you think? Find someone to love. Stop punishing yourself and let yourself breathe a bit. We miss you. Your father—"

Anything but that talk. Not again. He grabbed the drawing of the wheel and thrust it in front of the raven. “What does that look like to you?”

The raven sighed and studied the drawing. “Some New Age otsebyachenna. It’s not even symmetrical.”

“Do you think Dad might know?”

“Your father is into his third cup of medovuha. He told me he loved me a few minutes ago, so I wouldn’t count on it.”

The raven pivoted to Finn again. “Is your sister coming?”

“Yes,” Finn said.

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