Jake shook his head as his adoptive father motioned the Kanes for privacy, grabbing Razick’s hand as she began to push away from the table.
“No, they can stay. Please.” He felt the unspoken question as Razick’s fingers tightened around his own and squeezed back reassuringly before meeting his father’s eyes. “I like their company. It’s… nice.”
Not to mention, having them there meant he wouldn’t be alone with his father for this conversation. He knew his father would never hurt him on purpose – anyone who’d ever seen the necromancer defend him would know that – but knowing didn’t make him feel better about the impending conversation. Having Razick beside him did.
Jeb excused himself anyway, gathering his plate and used cutlery as he stood. “I’m done, anyway. I’ll start the dishes.”
Jake watched his father’s frown deepen. “What’s wrong, Jake? You know you can tell me anything.”
“I know… It’s just…” He swallowed. “Dad?”
“Yes, Jake?”
Jake hesitated, attempting to ignore the sudden dryness of his mouth, and the sadness held within his father’s eyes. He’d hurt the necromancer often with his words over the last few years, wielding them as expertly as the Void knife he’d brought on the Inevitable, both finely honed weapons intended to cut as deeply and painfully as possible.
And now he was about to do it again.
Sighing, Jake averted his eyes to study his breakfast. One of his favorites, yet another of the many gifts from his father. His father did everything for him, without complaint. And once again, Jake was rejecting him.
But the necromancer had taught him to always tell the truth, and this truth needed to be said.
Jake met the concern on his father’s face, forcing his breathing to match the calm rhythm of Razick’s thumb against the back of his hand.
“I’ve been thinking. About what happened on the Inevitable. About that TAG, and how I…” He turned away, closing his eyes. “I don’t want to learn Necromancy.”
“Okay.”
Jake looked up in surprise at the even tone in his father’s voice. “You’re not angry?”
“Why would I be angry?” His father reached out, grabbing Jake’s free hand and squeezing, his face an unreadable mask.
Jake’s words felt small. “Because that’s your magic?”
“Jake.” Another squeeze. “I don’t want you to be me. I want you to be better. One of me is too many already.” The necromancer released his hand, instead folding his fingers together on the table. “My job is to help you find your way, not make you follow mine. You’re already a Shielding expert. Jeb’s teaching you Telepathy. And your Rune Magic far outpaces anything I’ve ever seen.” He shook his head. “You don’t need my Necromancy. You’ve got enough to practice already.”
“But you wanted to teach me how to protect myself!” Jake protested.
Why isn’t he arguing with me?
“And I have.” His father began counting off his accomplishments on his fingers. “You can Soul Call your mother. You’ve mastered the basics of sparring. You’ve Shielded a carrier by yourself in the middle of combat. You know how to break a Soulbind, so nobody can trap you against your will. You don’t need anything else. Not from me.” He frowned, eyes furrowing. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
Jake bowed his head, nodding through the sudden tears. “I thought you’d be mad.”
His father sighed, balling each fist around a handful of his trousers. “If I’m angry at anyone, it’s myself. I promised I’d protect you, and I didn’t. And as a result of my failure, you ended up in a situation where you had to protect me, instead.”
“I disobeyed your orders. You told me to stay with Alanis, but I left.”
“And if you’d stayed, Kydell’s TAG would have killed you, instead of the other way around. You forget, I knew Fleet Captain Selkirk. I’ve seen Larissa in action.” His father tugged at his shoulder and Jake surrendered, letting go of Razick’s hand to allow the necromancer to pull him and his chair closer. “I’m the one who brought you on that ship, Jake. I’m the one who put you in that situation, and I’m sorry.”
Jake heard Razick stand, collecting her now-empty dishes before joining her brother in the cleanup as Jake buried his face in his father’s chest, clutching tightly – then letting go at the necromancer’s sudden intake of breath.
He’s still hurt. Even though he tries to hide it.
His father was stroking his back now, soft and reassuring. “I’m not angry, Jake. I’m proud. You’re working through feelings no twelve-year-old should have to work through. You’re using them to figure out what you want to do with your life, and then doing what needs doing to make that happen.” His father squeezed, and Jake could feel the necromancer’s muscles tensing from the pain of the exertion. “I’m sorry my failings led you to this point… And I’m proud of you, for finding the good in it anyway.”
Jake closed his eyes, relishing his relief at his father’s understanding as he inhaled the smells of herbs and sausage permeating the necromancer’s shirt, his father’s hand still rubbing his back in firm and comforting strokes. He felt the dampness from his own tears soaking his father’s chest and sat up, smiling nervously as he rubbed at his eyes.
“I’m proud to say you’re my Dad.”
“Void knows why. But thank you.” His father sat back in his chair, tears glistening on his cheeks. Lifting his fork, he waved it at Jake. “If you think you’ll want seconds, better grab them before Jeb finishes cleaning. He’s efficient. Even though he does it all by hand.”
“A little manual labor never hurt anyone,” Jeb called from the sink, elbows deep in soapy water. He turned to wink at Jake. “But no need to overdo it.”
Razick snorted from her perch on the counter, cleaned dishes held aloft with her Telekinesis as she air dried them with her Anemancy. “If you say so.”
She neatly directed the plates to their spot in the cabinet before beginning the process again with the utensils.
Jeb snapped his wet dish towel in her direction. “Cheater!”
Jake couldn’t help but laugh as Razick neatly caught the water droplets with her Hydromancy, instead directing them down the back of her brother’s shirt. Jeb screeched, dropping the glass in his hand. Razick expertly arrested its fall with her Telekinesis just before it hit the floor, gently returning it to the sink.
“Careful,” Jake’s father growled. “We’ve got company coming later, and I’ll need all the dishes. Don’t have any spare place settings.”
“Grilling?” Jake kicked his feet against the chair leg. His father had become a surprisingly good cook since his first tentative attempts after he’d adopted Jake, but nothing could beat his efforts on the rusty grill in their small backyard.
The necromancer nodded solemnly. “Been marinating since yesterday. Want to make a good impression. And Javon’s been on deployment for over a year. She deserves something nicer than hydroponic vegetables and travel-packed proteins.” He stood from the table, scratching the back of his neck. “Should probably get that started now – but I want to run through what we know about Janikk, first.”
“Good idea.” Jeb’s voice was muffled by a mouthful of the breakfast casserole as he packed away the leftovers.
Razick nodded as she directed his father’s now empty plate to the water filled sink. “Make sure we caught everything, before we brief the others.”
“That was my thought.” His father turned slowly, his steps stiff and almost hesitant as he made his way toward the stairs leading to the bedrooms. “Let me grab my notes.”
Jake waited until his father was out of earshot before bolting from his chair. “Professor Jeb? Did you make the call yet? Let them know?”
“Doing that now.”
“Good.” Jake shifted his weight, watching as Jeb closed his eyes to focus his Telepathy, and turned to Razick. “Because if they don’t do it right now, I don’t think Dad will give us another chance.”
