“He’ll say it’s too dear,” Hektor ventured.
“Rubbish. He’s just being a stubborn old fool. I say this in all respect, Hektor. I’ve known Thomar for forty years. He was friends with my own father as I was with yours, and I’ll tell you what I told him. He needs to see a Healer soon or he’ll die.” His voice dropped. “It may even be too late.”
He straightened. “I was sorry about Egan,” he added as he headed down the stairs. “I miss your Da, as I’m sure you all do.”
“Thanks.”
The flat was in an uproar when he arrived. Padreic was pacing the front room, squeezing the pig’s bladder ball he was forever mending in his hands, while their only sister, Kasiath, was sitting by the coal stove, her eyes red from trying not to cry. Jakon and Raik were standing beside her, clearly unsure of how to comfort her beyond their physical presence. Everyone looked up with relief when Hektor entered.
“Where’re the others?” he asked, casting a swift glance across the kitchen to the small pantry they’d converted for their grandfather’s use.
“Suli took the littles off to visit her mother,” Padreic answered. “Aiden’s not home yet, an’ Ma’s gone to the Healers to get someone to come by and see to Granther.”
“Granther don’t need no one seein’ to him!” Thomar’s weak but determined voice carried easily across the flat. “He just needs some blasted quiet!”
Padreic chewed at his bottom lip. “I thought I might go down to Rosie’s, Hek,” he said in a hushed voice. “If that’s all right. I can stay though,” he added quickly. “If you need things fetched, or somethin’ . . .”
Hektor shook his head. “No, you go. Just stay indoors so I know where to find you.” Both of them tried hard not to glance over at the pantry again.
“We’ll head out too now that you’re home,” Raik said.
“Where will you be?”
The two younger brothers shared a look. “Watchman’s Arms if you need us.”
Hektor nodded. “Kas?”
She looked up. “I’ll stay.”
“All right then.” Hektor made a show of screwing up his courage. “So, let’s go see if we can talk some sense into a cantankerous old man.”
The pantry was just big enough to house a narrow pallet down the center. Thomar lay propped up on a pile of pillows, wrapped in shawls and blankets, and looking as birdlike as one of his own messenger pigeons. He gave Hektor a narrow-eyed look as his grandson pushed the curtain aside. “Don’t start,” he wheezed. “It’s too dear, and it’s not necessary.”
“The herbalist says otherwise, Granther.”
“The herbalist is a . . .” Thomar paused as Kasiath pushed past her brother and tucked herself on the bottom corner of the pallet. “. . . nagging little fart,” he finished. “I know what’s what; he don’t. So . . .” He turned to Kasiath. “D’you tell him your news, girl?”
She shook her head. “There hasn’t been time, Granther.”
“So tell him now. It’s good news. News to celebrate.”
Hektor glanced down at his little sister. “I could use some good news,” he prompted with a smile.
She nodded gravely. “The Watchhouse Messenger Bird Master came by today,” she said. “An’ he offered me an apprenticeship.”
“That’s great Kassie. Another Dann in the Watch, sort of. Um . . . how much is it gonna cost?”
“That’s all taken care of,” Thomar snapped. “Me an’ Logan have an understandin’. About that, an’ about other things too. So, go on, tell him the rest.”
“That’s not for certain, Granther.”
“Nonsense.”
“An’ it’s too dear.”
“You let us decide on what’s too dear, you just tell your brother what Logan said.”
“He thinks he might be able to get me into some classes at the Collegium,” Kasiath relented. “He says he thinks I might have Animal Mindspeech, well, Bird-speech anyway. Maybe.”
“Of course you do,” Thomar interjected again. “Anyone with half a brain coulda seen that years ago.” He began to cough, waving off his two grandchildren as they leaned forward. “Now you get downstairs and tell Paddy to go chase your Ma down afore she wastes time and money on some high and mighty Healer what’ll charge more’n a month’s rent just to tell me to stay in bed.
“I won’t die afore you get back, I promise,” he added as she hesitated. “I wanna talk to Hektor alone. Go on now, there’s a good girl.
“An’ you don’t be frettin’ about any cost of Kassie’s apprenticeship,” he said, once he and Hektor were alone. “I’ve been puttin’ money aside with Logan ever since she were three years old. Like I said, it was obvious to anyone with half a brain that she had a gift with birds. An’ when I’m gone, I want what little money I’ve saved up to pay for those classes of hers. You understand?”
“Sure but . . .”
“Don’t you sure but me, boy. My time’s soon; I know it an’ so should you. I won’t have anyone’s hard-earned pay going to some Healer just to be told it. It’s a waste of money.”
Hektor smiled. “It’s funny. That’s just what Aiden said today about working a double shift on account of the Lightning.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Well, he never showed up last night.”
Thomar gave a disdainful sniff. “I’m not surprised,” he stated.
“Why?”
The sound of the door opening and Aiden’s feet clumping through the front room interrupted them. “Get your brother in here,” Thomar ordered. “I got somethin’ to tell you both.”
The night shift passed with the usual number of students running amok and sets of undergarments being laid out for the Lightning’s approval. Clay Marcher’s grandparents made another brief appearance, this time in their nightclothes as a concession to the cold, but once again there was no sign of the famous nude runner himself. After the Night Sergeant had made his reports, the four oldest Danns met in Hektor’s small office with the door firmly shut behind them.
Both Jakon and Raik stared at their older brothers with their mouths open.
“Granther was the Lightning?” Raik stammered. “You’re not serious.”
Hektor raised his hands. “Him an’ Great Uncle Daz, that’s what he says.”
“He’s pullin’ your leg,” Jakon declared flatly. “There’s no possible way. They were Watchmen.”
“He says they got a bet on one new moon’s eve walking the night beat when they were about your age,” Aiden said. “Uncle Daz dared Granther to run past the Watchhouse naked. That’s how it started.”
“He says eventually six other Watchmen from all across the city, all the same age . . .” Hektor started.
“Young an’ stupid,” Aiden supplied.
“Came on board. All sworn to secrecy. Granther says he’s the last. The two before him died last spring.”
Jakon scratched his chin. “I guess that would be why there were always so many sightin’s of him,” he noted.
“An’ why the Lightning never showed up this year,” Raik continued.
“An’ why he won’t never show up again,” Hektor finished for them. “Granther’s too old an’ too sick to carry on like that any more.”
The two younger brothers cast each other an equally speculative glance, and Aiden shot them both a sharp look.
“Don’t even think about it,” he ordered.
“Think about what?”
The looks turned to expressions of aggrieved innocence, and Aiden just scowled at them.