"Kin is a word that covers all manner of sins, doesn't it?" he asked rhetorically. But his eyes showed a flicker of unquiet as they met the burning gold of his love's. While his mind ran through an inventive list of possibilities, each more horrifying than the last, his face remained stoic, strong. He had to be the last person to fall apart or he wasn't fit to lead.
Finn smiled grimly, trying to keep Tiseus and Galatæa, and everyone really, steady.
"Let us not jump to conclusions based on fragmentary facts and conjecture. There are any number of reasons why Perseus, clearly under the thing's influence, might form a resonance with it. They aren't
happy reasons, but until we know more, we had better steel our wills and put our minds to work. You are the best and the brightest of Solunarium, and you have survived worse than most might. It is always darkest before the dawn, but when dawn doesn't come, Aværys provides."
The could meditate upon the safety the Scepter had provided them over that year, though few probably knew how dire it would have been without their God's intercession.
"Peace,
discipulus," he said, steadying hand still upon the Neptori's shoulder, hoping simple, protective touch might trick the deeper parts of his mind to feel safe here among his true tribe. Finn listened.
As for the limited narrative he was able to share, Finn began to consider when hysteria began to creep upon the young one and Arvælyn's next revelation. His other hand came up and he held Ixiondus hard.
"Away from the source of the enchantment, you are free. If anything is left behind, the Assessors will weed it out and make you whole again." He glanced to Raithen, to Decius. A part of him considered sending the students back with the dux or a Sentinel or two. Human calculus had been anathema to him, but now he was Solunarium, and he would bruise his own feelings if necessary but he would make the difficult decisions when required.
He might not have access to his Rune to soothe the boy's symphony, but he still had a well-trained voice and his native human empathy.
"A Fugue is serious, but not permanent. Your mind will reassert itself slowly over months, though the Assessors can safely increase the speed of your recovery. Fear not."
"Come, Ixiondus," came another voice. It was Octavian. The platinum prince put an arm around the Neptori student and led him toward the warmth of a fire and whatever other meager comforts they could offer him. Finn let go, delegating the care of the rescued one to Drævyn's boy.
"Thank you."
He used no honorific and Octavian required none. Finn could see the Pyramid still existed down here, but it was, perhaps, less steep by necessity. His gaze turned to meet Arvælyn's again, curious whether his eyes would be gold or white. It seemed as though their divine bequeathments were their only magical advantage. Finn wished they could entwine their symphonies, one's thought sounding in both minds at the same time. Certainly, they would be able to discuss the perils and the worst-case scenarios without upsetting the children that way.
But he knew Arvælyn well enough to exist without it for the time being. He felt a pang of longing for their shared bed, where he could slip under the sheets, under his wing, and slip into his dreams with him. But he did not allow himself more than a beat or two of that.
The Sentinels slipped closer, Decius tugging the dux closer, too.
Quietly, "I was not aware that Albion was capable of working a Fugue upon an unwilling subject even in the full light of the sun, let alone with the natural channels of aether disrupted. If the boy's intelligence is correct, I ought to be able to disrupt their hold on most of them by the literal grace of Deus Aværys. Albion, Primus, and Perseus will require more, I think. If the creature
was Albion transformed," he made a face, "that will complicate things. If the peril is parasitic and that is why it read as kin to you," he glanced at Arvælyn, "then that might mean more bodies to combat. We don't know yet how our uniforms will hold up against magical attack since we don't have our own magic to test on them.
"So, we will have to rely upon tactics while we don't have enough intelligence, but we daren't be too bold in seeking more as they can Semble our approach. I can play Solar Paladin and lead us through their front gate while Arvælyn uses us as a distraction stalks the shadows. Our arrival may be our only chance to reconnoiter."
After a pause, "Advise me."
A quick glance to the side was enough to track the students. Two of them had gone aloft to keep watch, no doubt at Octavian's orders or their own habits of survival. Good. The rest of them had gathered around the warmth and the light, encircling their recovered compatriot.
Finn didn't envy the lad his recovery; the Assessors were deft, but some things couldn't be healed without a person's conscious contribution. The poet in him remembered swimming in Udori, deep, deep down so he could look up and see the tiny fish swimming between him and the surface, shining like platinum flechettes. It occurred to him that the students were schooling around the Neptori as fish might, granting him, perhaps, some instinctual feeling of safety in numbers.
Silver blue eyes caught his gaze and Octavian nodded grimly. He was leading, such as he could, but deferred to Finn and the
imperium he carried on this mission.
"Aneurin," he said, when Finn turned back to his Sentinels, permanent and temporary, "when they break, show them on the maps where we have found relatively stable aether."
It was a limited, localized boon, but they needed whatever they could get at this point.
