“Wait! Gadrith!” I said as I sat up quickly.
Too quickly. My head swam, and I fought back the urge to throw up.
“Don’t shout,” Tyentso mumbled from a few feet away. “That’s not a name I want to hear when I’m this hungover. Or ever. Ever would be best.”
Teraeth groaned and smashed a pillow over his head.
We’d ended up on the brick-lined patio, next to the fire pits. I’d only meant to check on Tyentso and make sure she was all right after the ritual, but when I found her, Teraeth was already there. He’d broken out several bottles of vané wine because “a successful Return from a Maevanos should be celebrated.” Then Doc found us, and he’d brought a whole tun of the potent coconut rum the Thriss distill.
It all got a bit fuzzy after that.
“Oh, my head.” I rubbed my thumbs into my temples. “No, I meant … with everything that happened … ow. My eyeballs ache.” What had I been going on about? I was pretty sure it had been something important.
Someone dropped an entire rack of cymbals near my head, or at least it felt like it when the tray clattered to the ground. I swear I felt the vibrations in my bones. Given the noises Tyentso and Teraeth made in protest, I wasn’t alone in that opinion.
“Pathetic,” Doc said, although the smile on his face betrayed his amusement. “I would expect a D’Mon to be better at handling their liquor. Don’t they have a spell for this?”
“Six months,” I protested. “I was only at the Blue Palace for six months. Miya didn’t have a chance to teach me how to cure hangovers. Is that tea?”
“I have rice porridge too,” Doc said. “Wake up, lovebirds. Come eat breakfast. You’ll feel better.”
I blinked and looked around. We’d all passed out in various states around the fire pit, dragging over the large pillows that the Brotherhood kept for just that purpose. The important thing of note, however, was that we were fully dressed in the same clothing each of us had worn the night before. That made it unlikely that any sexual shenanigans had occurred.
Good.
“Ha ha,” I said, taking his offered hand. “How much did we drink?”
“All of it,” Doc said. “It was amazing to watch.”
“Would you please shut up,” Tyentso groaned. “I hate you so much.”
I started to stumble over to her, then found myself sitting down on a bit of brick edging. I exhaled and tried to stop the world from spinning.
“Yeah, you think it’s bad,” Tyentso mumbled. “Just wait until you’re my age. My body can’t handle liquor like it used to.” She paused to glare at Doc. “Why are you sober? You matched us drink for drink, you old bastard.”
“I’ve owned a bar for over twenty years. I know when to cut myself off.”
“Gadrith,” I repeated.
Teraeth sighed and removed the pillow. “What about him?”
“So much happened…” I grimaced. Everything was loud and bright and horrible. “Note to self: don’t mix vané wine and rum.”
“Note to self: don’t mix vané wine and life.” Teraeth stood, slowly and with a care suggesting he too was having trouble with his balance. “Try to focus,” he said. “What were you saying about Gadrith?”
“He’s not dead.”
“Yes, he is,” Doc said. “You’re still drunk. Now come on. Let’s get some tea into you, and maybe some food if you can keep it down. You’ll be better for it.”
“No, the kid’s right,” Tyentso said. “Gadrith tricked everyone, Nikali.”
So she had known Doc back when he was Nikali Milligreest. I tucked that information away.
Doc/Terindel/Nikali raised an eyebrow. “I’ve put that name behind me, along with a long list of others. It’s Doc now.” He frowned at Tyentso. “What are you talking about? I killed Gadrith myself. He’s dead and his soul is safely in Thaena’s hands.”
“No, he’s not,” she said. “That damn rat tricked us. That rice porridge sounds fantastic.”
“I want an explanation.”
“You’ll get your damn explanation,” she said, “after I get my fucking breakfast.”
He laughed. “Yes, Your Majesty.” Doc helped Tyentso to her feet and guided her to the table where he’d set out bowls.
One for each of us, I noticed, including Teraeth, although I wasn’t so na?ve as to think Doc had changed his opinion about his “arrogant” son.
Did Teraeth know he was Doc’s son? I wracked my memory to see if the subject had come up during our drinking. I couldn’t be sure. We’d talked about a lot of things. I dimly remembered Teraeth going on for several hours about how Atrin Kandor had dammed the Zaibur River to create Lake Jorat—and why that had been such strategic genius.
Teraeth picked up one of the bowls and stared at it.
“Yes,” Doc said. “Every bowl is poisoned with my very own hangover cure. At least you won’t have to worry about the headache.” He grabbed one of the bowls and filled it with a porridge mixed with ginger, chopped turtle eggs, shredded pieces of island duck, and wild mushrooms. I had to admit it smelled delicious. More ginger, in the form of tea, sat on the tray in a large Kirpis blue-glazed teapot.
“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Teraeth muttered, but he too began adding toppings to his breakfast.
I dragged myself to a seat. For a while none of us concentrated on anything except eating, not throwing up what we’d just eaten, and a mutual agreement to be as quiet as possible while fighting the good fight.
Teraeth stirred a spoon through his porridge. “Did you add something to this?”
“I told you: I added a hangover cure. Feeling better?”
“Surprisingly.” Teraeth took a healthy draught from his cup of tea and returned to eating the rice porridge with greater enthusiasm.
I concentrated on eating. It really wouldn’t have mattered what breakfast tasted like, but the fact that Doc had managed to make this delicious was a nice bonus.
Finally, when Doc resumed giving Tyentso and me dirty looks, I said, “Okay, back in the Capital, there is this sorcerer working with Darzin to locate the Stone of Shackles. He was probably the one who taught Darzin how to summon Xaltorath. And because I didn’t know his name, and because he was extremely creepy, I’ve always called him ‘Dead Man.’ Thanks to Tyentso, I now know who he is: Gadrith D’Lorus.”
“Gadrith D’Lorus is dead,” Doc still insisted.
“Well, you’re not entirely wrong,” Tyentso said. She saw the look on Doc’s face and waved a hand. “Okay, look. Nobody knows more about Gadrith than I do.”*
“Yeah, about that—” I started to say.
She pointed a finger at me. “Do not judge me, young man. None of us have lived a perfect life.”
“Oh? I didn’t marry my father.”
“Yeah, well, I did it for the oldest reason there is.”