Lucky Rabbit

In retrospect, the fact that the redhead’s version of ‘Grace’ had looked exactly the same two years after her tragic death should have been a bit of a giveaway that she wasn’t real. But the more Pandy saw of The Father, the more she wondered if this was just another kind of trick. After all, both Captain Reedsley and Augustus seemed certain that Bryan Conroy was dead, and surely they had ways of checking, even if DNA testing wasn’t a thing here. Though it kind of was, at least in that some Dark elementals seemed to be able to tell if someone was descended from someone else, even after a few hundred years of drift. Did magic have DNA?

Bryan Conroy – or the thing that looked like him – had yet to release Pandy, his arm wrapped around her shoulders in a nearly uncomfortable grip. The actual hug had been surprisingly brief, with Bryan quickly drawing away to sweep his gaze over Pandy, presumably checking for injuries. Seeing that she was fine, he’d straightened, but kept her close to his side as the other adults in the small space began to speak.

Lord Leader, as Pandy had decided to call the man who’d appeared when she and the others arrived, was not happy. He was still smiling, his voice calm and even, and the real Thaniel might have missed his banked anger, but Pandy certainly didn’t.

“So you left the carriage and the driver behind and decided to ride straight to my home?” he asked, cold eyes pinning Leo and Formerly-Ginger.

They exchanged glances, and Pandy could practically see them both decide to throw the other under Truck-kun. “I was just there to make sure the boy was cooperative,” the woman said. “Leo made the decision to come here.”

Leo’s lips flattened. “That’s not what you said in the carriage. You made it very clear I was only there to make sure we got the right kid. Besides, you were just going to sit around and let the carriage burn around you. Without me-”

“I’m going to take Thaniel to my suite,” Bryan said, his arm all but crushing Pandy against him. Inclining his head toward Lord Leader, he said, “Lord Shadow. Lady Ruth.” This was the red-haired woman, and Pandy wondered if that was a code name, like Lord Shadow. Unless the man’s name was actually Lord Shadow, which wasn’t entirely out of the question, though it was a bit melodramatic for someone who seemed so businesslike. Wait, did this mean Leo’s name wasn’t Leo?

Lord Shadow gave Bryan a smile that held more than an edge of condescension. “Of course. Though I do hope you’ll soon complete your research.” He tipped his head toward Pandy. “Now that you can focus on it.”

Bryan twitched, but managed to nod in return before shuffling across the space to open the door that had been on the left side as Pandy entered. He pushed Pandy slightly ahead of him as he did so, keeping his body between her and the other people in the entryway. As soon as the door closed, she could hear muffled voices behind them, but without her Bunny-ears, she couldn’t make out who was speaking or what they were saying.

The door led to another hall, which went on some fifty or sixty feet until it turned right. There were more doors to the left and right, as well as one where the corridor turned. Two armed men stood on either side of the right-hand door. They stared straight ahead in a way Pandy found vaguely creepy, and she planted her feet, instinctively unwilling to get any closer.

“It’s all right,” Bryan told her, his familiar-but-not voice not quite as certain as she would have liked. Ignoring the men, he stopped and crouched down in front of her, grimacing as his knees loudly popped. Looking into her eyes, he said, “They won’t do anything unless they’re ordered to. Look.”

Straightening, he crossed to the closest man and poked him hard in the chest. The man – younger and in much better shape than Bryan – didn’t even bother to glance their way. In fact, now that Pandy was paying attention, she could see that he wasn’t even breathing. He also wasn’t blinking, and there was a strange, waxy texture to his skin, though his eyes weren’t covered in a milky film like the carriage driver’s had been.

“Bound,” she breathed, and Bryan looked startled.

“Yes.” He nodded and moved back to her side. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you know about them, though I don’t think I learned about any Dark elementals other than Umblinks and Duskin until I was at Kestrel. Lian was always coming home and asking questions about things I only learned about much later, though. I suppose the curriculum has changed in the last thirty years.”

Thirty years? Students attended Falconet from eight to ten, which put Lord Bryan at about thirty-eight to forty. He could always be rounding up or down, but he might actually be younger than she’d thought. So why did he look so old? In Thaniel’s memory, he’d definitely been older than Grace, but not old, as such.

By the time Pandy was reincarnated as Thaniel’s pet bunny, he’d been stooped and tired, with some silver in his hair, but not like this. He looked more like his own father than Thaniel’s. Or maybe this was Bryan Conroy Senior, and Pandy had just never met or heard of him before? But then why hadn’t he said so when Pandy called him father?

These thoughts occupied her mind as maybe-Bryan opened the door between the two Bound and motioned for Pandy to join him as he entered the room beyond. Pandy swallowed hard and thought about anything but the fact that she was walking between two dead bodies presumably occupied by Demons who had been summoned or contracted or-

The one Bryan hadn’t poked turned its head, its attention now very firmly on Pandy. She squeaked and scurried through just as the other Bound did the same. The first one actually shifted, beginning to lift a hand as Bryan shut the door between her and them very firmly, a frown digging furrows through his lined cheeks. “They shouldn’t do that,” he muttered. “I’ll have to speak to Jesse about narrowing down their instructions.”

Giving Pandy another smile, he waved his hand around, indicating the room in which they stood. It was simple, but neat and comfortable. Two chairs sat off to the side, though only one of them looked like it saw regular use. A low table held a closed book with a bookmark sticking out about halfway through. Shelves lined every wall, each one packed with more books, except for two gaps to the left which held closed doors.

“It’s not much, but it’ll be home for a few days, until we can return you to school.” He gave Pandy a pained smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to miss some classes, but there’s no getting around it. I’m told you’re… not very happy at Falconet, anyway. I’m sorry.” The first part of this sounded less than sincere, but the last two words held only pure, brutal honesty. This man was deeply sorry, but Pandy didn’t think it was just because Thaniel was supposedly struggling at school.

“I made some really good friends at the beginning of the year, but two of ‘em had to leave,” Pandy said, giving him the party line. She had no idea if he really was The Father or who might be listening, so she couldn’t break character. “I was sick for a while, so I fell behind, and classes are hard, and l I miss my friends, an’ I just want to go home.”

The words tumbled out, and as they did, Bryan looked more and more concerned. Pandy wanted to snatch them back and assure the man that his son was actually safe and happy, but that wasn’t an option. Besides, Bryan had been pretending to be dead for several months at this point, which certainly hadn’t helped Thaniel’s mental health, so she was a little cranky with him and not inclined to ease his mind just yet.

“I’m sorry,” Bryan said again, now looking miserable. “I wanted to… This wasn’t…” He stopped, closing his eyes, and drew in a breath so deep it actually seemed to cause him pain, because he grimaced and rubbed at his chest, at about the same place Thaniel’s heartstone sat. After a bit, he spoke again.

“I wanted you here for… for tomorrow,” he told her. “I wish Lian could be with us as well, but I’m sure he’ll handle it in his own way. He always does.” A flicker of humor passed through those Conroy-blue eyes. “Then you’ll go back to school, but not for long. Mr. Blackwood-” He broke off again, and this time he almost looked angry.

“Mr. Blackwood won’t be your guardian much longer,” he said finally. “You met your cousin- No, Uncle Andres.” Here he looked like he’d just bitten into a sour candy. “He’ll be your guardian, and let you live with me.”

Pandy had so many questions. Would they live here, in this oppressive house? But where else could they live together, given that Bryan was supposed to be dead, and presumably planned to stay that way? Would Lian be here, too? But what came out of her mouth was, “Lian said you said not to trust Uncle Andres.”

Bryan forced a sickly smile. “Well, I was wrong. I had some problems with Andres’ mother when we were children, and I suppose I just decided it would be best to avoid her and her family altogether. But now they, ah, are at least better than the alternative.”

The alternative being Augustus? Somehow, Pandy didn’t think so. Which brought her to the biggest question she wanted to ask. What, exactly, were they planning to do to Chancellor Augustus Blackwood so that he wouldn’t be Lian and Thaniel’s guardian anymore? And when? Did she have time to gather more information for as long as she could fake her way through all of this, or did she need to cut her losses and make a break for it? Her eyes shifted to the hall door, where she could almost feel the two Bound lurking in the hallway. What would they do if an unaccompanied rabbit suddenly kicked down the door and ran for the outside? Did their instructions cover fleeing lagomorphs?

Seeing her look, Bryan sighed. “You can’t leave until it’s time, I’m afraid. But come, come.” He smiled and took Pandy’s hand, drawing her toward the door toward the back of the room. Waving at the closer door, he said, “That’s the restroom. And this-” He threw open the door with a flourish. “Is our room.”

It could have been a scaled-down replica of Thaniel’s bedroom on the family estate. Every piece of furniture was there, only sized down so as to leave room for a second bed that was tucked up against the far wall. There was a wooden wardrobe and a low table, complete with art supplies, pencils, paper, and a single shelf containing what looked like the entire series of Pirate Pete books, as well as what Pandy recognized as textbooks from Falconet. She’d recently bought a full set of these for Eleanor, so even though Thaniel hadn’t needed most of them yet, she knew what they looked like and just how expensive they were.

“And here,” Bryan said, crossing the room to the bookshelf. Pulling down something that looked like a heavy book with hinges along the spine instead of binding, he opened it to reveal a small portrait. In it, a smiling young woman held a sleeping baby, her tousled golden curls unruly around her shoulders. The artist had perfectly captured the loving look in her eyes as she gazed down at the infant.

This time, Pandy very nearly said Grace’s name, but managed to turn it into “Mother” just in time. Bryan smiled, his eyes soft as he stroked the curve of the woman’s cheek over the glass protecting the image.

“You remember,” he said, handing the picture to Pandy. The other side of the frame held a painting of a man – almost a caricature, honestly. His eyes were too close together, the nose too large, and black curls sprang up all around his head. He, too, was smiling, and the blue of the eyes exactly matched those looking down at Pandy.

“You?” she asked, touching it. The picture might be silly, but there was no mistaking the skill in the lines, the way each stroke captured another aspect of him, not a single one wasted. It looked a great deal like the illustrations in the Pirate Pete series, which made sense, since she suspected the same person had painted them. Him.

Bryan tilted his head to the side. “You don’t remember? You loved these pictures when you were… Well, you still are… When you were younger. Before-” He shook his head, rubbing at his chest again. “It was a long time ago. Your mother and I each painted a self-portrait for our third anniversary. We didn’t even plan it. Do you remember how your mother used to laugh when she told the story?”

Pandy shook her head. She obviously didn’t remember, since she hadn’t been around, but she didn’t think Thaniel did, either. He claimed he hadn’t remembered that his parents were artists until the memory block began breaking down, so he certainly wouldn’t recall a story where both of them painted self-portraits.

Bryan didn’t look at all surprised at this. In fact, she might go so far as to say he seemed pleased. Taking back the paintings, he closed them up and placed them back on the shelf, where they just looked like an unusual book. “We were both tired, with Lian newly born and up all hours of the night. Your mother refused to have a nursemaid, though I did talk her into letting someone else change him at least some of the time.”

He chuckled, his eyes still far away. “We said he was all the gift we needed that year, but we each snuck off and painted a picture for the other. Then, on the day of our anniversary, we both confessed and exchanged gifts, only to find we’d had the exact same idea.”

Focusing on Pandy, the weight of the years between that day and this settled around him again. “She said we should do it again when you were born, but somehow it didn’t happen. She never liked to sit for portraits, so this is one of only two ever painted.”

Pandy wanted to ask where the other one was, but if Thaniel should already know, that might give her away, or at least make Bryan question her authenticity a bit. She, on the other hand, was becoming more and more certain that this must be the real Lord Bryan Conroy. Admittedly, he might be making all of this up and counting on Thaniel’s youth to explain his not remembering it, but she didn’t think so. In fact, it seemed like he expected her memory to be bad, which also argued that he was real, since Lian said Bryan was the one who’d placed the memory block on Thaniel in the first place.

Deciding it was finally time to address the elephant in the china shop, Pandy drew in a long breath and said, “Why aren’t you dead?”