Page 72 of Backpacking through Bedlam

Sixteen

“We make monsters whenever we disagree about how a limited resource should be spent. It’s so much easier to kill a person whose personhood you’ve stolen away.”

—Thomas Price

Manhattan, standing inside a former slaughterhouse filled with dragons, trying to figure out how to accomplish the impossible

SO: WE HAD LIMITED resources, including two people who were almost entirely out of synch with the present day, and myself, who had never bothered to become intimately acquainted with the way the modern world worked, since I’d had bigger things to worry about. Like finding a man who’d been thrown into another dimension by a cosmic force of being a giant asshole, and keeping myself from getting killed in the process.

Sarah was off the board, thanks to the telepathy limiters and whatever had happened to leave her so withdrawn. Normally I wouldn’t say personal trauma was a good-enough reason for someone to stay benched when kids were in danger, but Sarah’s a cuckoo. Pushing her when she doesn’t feel stable enough to be in the field could have really bad consequences, for everybody.

I don’t like treating my grandkids like they might be dangerous, but they could be, every single one of them. Even Artie, loath as he generally is to leave his room. We don’t raise harmless children in this family. And maybe that’s the way I did grow up to be my father. I didn’t have much say in the way Laura brought up Kevin and Jane, but the expectation that they’d take after my mother had still traveled with me every time I’d come to visit during their childhoods. In my way, I gave them as little of a choice as my dad gave me. If they wanted my approval, they’d show me they were ready to survive in a world whose dangers I was all too intimately acquainted with.

Kevin had always been more enthusiastic about knife training and field work, had always been more eager to impress me and make sure I knew that he was still my son, even if he only saw me once or twice a year. Who would Jane have grown up to be, without the constant need to impress a mother who was more absence than attendance?

Could she have been happy?

So no, Sarah wasn’t really on the table for this one. I didn’t know how much field work Verity was feeling up for, with Olivia still so young. If Verity was anything like her own father, she’d have a much stronger parental instinct than I ever had, and she’d want to protect her child above everything else. But Dominic could still help us if she couldn’t, and if he wasn’t up for going into the field, he could stay behind and babysit. We wouldn’t be going into this without any backup. Just with limited backup, which was nothing new, and would probably be more comfortable for Sally and Thomas, neither of whom were used to the current family dynamic.

As if I was. These people weren’t quite strangers to me, but they were close enough that I needed to stop thinking of myself as being the one who had all the answers. I didn’t. Thinking that way was only going to get people hurt.

The door creaked slightly as someone eased it open. All three of us turned to watch as Verity peeked around the edge, looking unaccountably relieved to find us standing there, considering our options, and not covered in blood or something.

“Sarah said you were going to go looking for the missing dragons,” she said. “I wanted to check and see if there was anything you needed from me before you went.”

That answered the question of whether or not she was feeling up for field work. As if she were the telepath, rather than Sarah, her lips drew downward in a frown and she stepped the rest of the way into the room, letting the door swing ease behind her.

“I’d go with you, but Livvy gets fussy when I’m out of her sight for too long,” she said. “Mary says this is a normal developmental stage, and that she’s better about it than some kids her age, since she has people around her all the time, but I still shouldn’t go into an active combat situation with you. I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, it’s fine,” I said. “Please don’t feel bad about needing to stay here and take care of your child. It’s understandable.”

“But you went into the field when Dad was Livvy’s age,” she said, doggedly. “I should be able to do the same thing.”

My stomach twisted, feeling uncomfortably as if it wanted to flip all the way over. I swallowed to hide my discomfort, glancing at Thomas.

“Your grandmother’s situation was somewhat unique,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder, Sally between us, standing silent and watchful as a stone. “There’s no obligation for any new parent to feel up to risking their lives for the lives of others.”

“But if you don’t find them, everything we’ve been working for falls apart,” she protested. “The dragons are furious. They can see the logic of what you were saying—something about hairstyles?—but they still want someone to blame, and it’s always easiest when you can shove the blame on someone outside your community. Outside your species is just a bonus. So they’re willing to cut off all contact with humans over this, if it doesn’t end the way we all want it to.”

“You said there are three confirmed strike teams, with a fourth that may or may not be made up of members of the first three,” I said. “You also said there were approximately twenty operatives that you knew of, in total. Which division makes the most sense, given those numbers?”

“Unless things have changed rather dramatically since my time, the smallest units the Covenant fields normally have three to five members,” said Thomas. “Large enough that you can lose someone without losing the battle at hand, but also small enough that losing a team is unlikely to completely destroy a complex operation.”

“Dominic says four teams is most likely,” said Verity, uncomfortably. “He’d like to go with you, if you’d be willing to have him.”

That explained her discomfort. I’d never been a big fan of Thomas going off to fight things without me, and the only reason it hadn’t been more of an issue for us was that during the officially romantic portion of our relationship, he’d been confined to the house. Meaning he’d been the one who had to get comfortable with the idea of me running off into danger without him around to watch my back.

“We’d be glad to,” said Thomas. “None of us is exactly a local, and it would be good to have someone who knows the city.”

“Especially since not everyone shares your arboreal tendencies,” I said, as warmly as I could manage. Verity mustered a smile. I returned it. “And it’ll be nice for Thomas and me to spend some time getting to know our latest grandson.”

“To be honest, I’m happy to get to know any of my grandchildren, born or married in,” said Thomas, a little wryly. “I didn’t expect I’d ever had the chance to meet any of you, and knowing your grandmother, there was more than half a chance your parents wouldn’t have reached adulthood.”

“Hey!” I protested.

Sally and Verity snickered, briefly united in mocking my questionable parenting skills. Thomas shrugged, unrepentant.

“I love you dearly, but in the time we had together, we both know I was the one who made sure Kevin had clean clothes and washed his hands, while you were the one who forgot that knives aren’t appropriate toys for children,” he said.