FicWad

Kerrigan sits at Jack’s bedside absentmindedly stroking his hair. She cannot decide where to begin her story. He smokes a cigar and lets Kerrigan figure out her story over her wine. He knows that he will not like the entire story, but he feels that he needs to know the truth. He knows that she has it written down among the historical accounts of Hell, but Jack wants to hear about her life, not about the socio-political structure of Hell in the ancient past. He is heavily drugged, but the only way to get her to tell a story like the one he has wanted to hear for many years is to play on her mercy, and he knows this to be a fact. He also knows that she watched two of her sons suffer from Lycanthropy. One of them did not fully recover from the illness, and, to this day, he has a severely damaged heart and is nearly blind. Kerrigan fears the same fate for Jack, and he knows this. She stares into her wine, swills it, drinks what is left, closes her eyes, and sighs.

“For lack of a better place to begin, I suppose I will begin with my husband, for you know my father’s story, and my story is incomplete without that of my husband. Many years before my creation, my husband himself was created as an Imp. He was nothing but a slave. The men he now calls brothers once abused him. He openly attacked them, and for that act, he was transformed into a Demon and named the heir to Hell. They did not initially accept him as one of their own. He grew lonesome and despondent, thus, my dear father began to create new Demons. He first created a boy of very dark complexion. He epitomized the sin of pride. My husband and he quite often disagreed. They were neither friends nor companions. Then another boy was created, but his laziness was quite at odds with Morietur’s energetic nature. The third creation was your wife, who epitomizes the sin of lust. They never slept together. Indeed, she received an icy reception. After lust came envy, but she was a bother to him as well. Then there was an accident. Both myself and my sister, the epitome of greed, were created next. I was very small. I would have fit in the palm of your hand. Either of us would have, but, as opposed to my sister, I looked very fragile. Morietur saw me laying on the stone upon which we were placed. We were certainly odd. Both of us are as pale as paper with dark eyes flecked with red, and we both have hair that is streaked ink black and paper white. Both of us were exceptionally small. We are, in fact, identical in all but experience and nature. Morietur saw me and poked me, a mistake he would later regret. In doing so, he caused me to sneeze. At that time, I was not aware of my strength or power. Because of that, I ended up burning his right ear completely off. He knew that instant that I was his choice. In order to console my sister, our brother, who epitomizes the sin of gluttony, was created.

“I took a very long time to reach my adult size. For a century, I matured to the degree that most do in eighteen years. As you know, I grew far less that I ought to have, but my sister is no different in that respect. I could tell you many tales of mischief I caused in my youth. I was not a bad child or even mischievous by nature. I just did not know my own strength. I lived in Morietur’s pocket by day and the drawers of his desk and nightstand by evening and night, respectively. I was so small that I would have been lost elsewhere. He had a bed for me in a drawer in his desk and one in his nightstand. When I grew enough to crawl about, I would accidentally burn holes in the carpet. Once, when I was teething, for Demons go through several sets of baby teeth before they reach adulthood, I bit the right foot off of Morietur’s eldest brother Marduk. I can only think of one short period when he was not terribly ill-tempered, and that was while he was courting and married to Tiamat. That ended rather abruptly and violently, and he immediately reverted to his insensitive, cold-as-ice, acerbic, nasty, vengeful self. Forgive me, for my accounts of Marduk are decidedly more objective in the Annals of Hell. I do not like him at all personally, and, in speaking of him, my personal bias does, from time to time, color the perspective. My point is, he was not fond of the loss of his right foot. He was still angry from Morietur’s promotion long before, and the fact that I was only an infant, and still a very small one at that, made matters worse. He and another of his brothers, the second-eldest, Ranrok, came after Morietur. By sheer luck, father was with us and absolutely disallowed the idea of killing an infant or her guardian for purposes of revenge for an act which neither party intended, at least while he was present.

“By the time I reached my full size, Morietur was growing impatient. He is not a patient man by nature, and the perpetual threat of his brothers certainly does not assist his patience in any way. They made many an attempt to steal me from him or to tempt him with other women. I was very young when he took my virginity. I suspect that he himself was a virgin, but I have no way of knowing.

“Some years later, I became pregnant. This was a shock. Somehow, Morietur and myself were destined to have our son when Ranrok and Arimanthia had their daughter. There had never been a pregnancy before that. We did not know what to expect. Morietur fretted for me. Arimanthia is a tall, Amazonian woman. She is quite muscular. I more closely resemble a porcelain doll. Arimanthia had slaves to look after her. Morietur does not approve of slavery, though I was given to him as one, and we were quite poor at the time, so I was alone.

“I realize your surprise at the thought of Morietur and myself being the poorest Demons in Hell. Think, though, that the only other households at the time were that of the Devil and those of Morietur’s brothers, all of whom are far older than he. We were also not married at that time. The idea of marriage had yet to be conceived, and, even if we had the opportunity, we would not have been able to afford it, for we had no surplus of anything. I was bed-bound while pregnant. I worked just as hard as, if not harder than, my husband. We had a house. It still stands. He built it with his own hands. I was raised there. While it is unusual in that it has two floors, please realize that the second floor was a later addition. At this time, it was a stone cottage with a thatched roof. He eventually built wooden walls onto the stone foundation and a tile roof. Twenty years after that, he added a second floor. When Death was born, it was stone. He and myself stayed with my father for some time in his infancy while Morietur built the first floor out of wood. It is not horribly far from your district’s southern border, and a few of the original stones found their way back into your own cottage. The stones that make the foundation and line the root cellar to this day are from the river which runs between our Districts. The wood comes from the old-growth forest which once lined it. It is painted white and has black shutters. No amount of persuasion will convince Morietur to sell it. He staked his claim and fought for it. He built the house and worked the land.

“I digress. I cleaned, spun, knitted, dyed, weaved, sewed, washed, canned, scrubbed, cooked, thatched, churned, milked, tended, planted, weeded, harvested, and fought. When I became pregnant, Morietur feared for me so much that he kept me in bed. For canning, cooking, weaving, spinning, knitting, and sewing he allowed me to get out of bed on the condition that I sat most of the time, but my agricultural production ceased entirely. This meant that he was working twice as hard for less money in trade. You must remember that pregnancy was a new concept at this time, and two out of the five Demon women in Hell at the time were pregnant. You must also keep in mind that the other couple were Ranrok and Arimanthia, and, while, out of his three brothers, Ranrok was the only one then on speaking terms with Morietur, their relationship was, and remains, icy. Near the end of my pregnancy, he confined me to bed. For about a month, he did the cooking, which meant oatmeal for breakfast, cheese I had made and applesauce for lunch, and quick bread and sliced apples for dinner. We did not enjoy a greatly varied diet, but I could make yeast breads, meat, fish, poultry, eggs, stew, soup, butter, cheese, biscuits, pancakes, whipped cream, vegetables, pies, and other sorts of edibles that were, and are, beyond my husband’s culinary expertise. We bought none of our food. We grew it, hunted it, or raised it. My pregnancy hit us very hard financially. I did not enjoy being bedridden so I sewed. I made blankets, a gown for myself, a new cloak for my husband, and swaddling clothes for the baby.

“On the night my eldest son was born, there was a party. All of Hell was there, save myself, Arimanthia, and a handful of her slaves. I remember it as a clear night in midsummer; the moon was full and bright in the sky. It was the proper sort of night for merriment. Morietur and Ranrok were the guests of honor, so my husband was obviously not at my bedside. At the party, my twin sister tricked him into thinking that she was I, for he was very drunk. He realized only too late what she had done. After she had her way with him, he came back home. He was pleased to know he had a son. Ranrok had fathered a daughter, as a messenger announced at the party. Ranrok and Arimanthia bore Life. Morietur and myself bore Death. Thus, the serious rivalry between our houses began.

“My husband never forgave himself for what happened that night. He still blames himself for what my sister did and for my having been alone and in labor at the time. Aside from the first time he embraced Death on the night Death was born, which is the subject of many famous paintings, it took him years to look the boy in the eyes. Soon after Death was born, my sister bore a son. Morietur did not accept the child as his. Had he not been tricked and the child had come, as he has said many times, he would have agreed to raise the boy. Thus, the first bastard child borne of a woman came into being. Remember, all of us created before Life and Death are motherless, though there is no useable synonym for that.

“When Death was about two, War was born. Three years after that, Famine came to us. Pestilence was born four years after Famine. Morietur brought the boys into the fields from the time that they could hold the tools, save Famine. He never planted. Death helped with the grain. War cared for the vegetables. Famine tended to the animals. Pestilence was in charge of the fruit. They all did other things for us, however I shall not go into my children’s household chores at length other than to say that Ranrok, seeing our eldest son in the fields, once called Death the grim, little reaper-boy not knowing which son he was, and the name stuck.

“When the children were young, Morietur got this idea of marriage. There were, of course, no white gowns. There was a silver ring with a ruby and small diamonds. I wear it still. Nobody who was there remembers our wedding. The amount of alcohol at your wedding with Lynn pales by comparison. I wore the gown I made while I was pregnant with Death. You have to realize that, in those days, I was young and beautiful. I was also naïve. Given my age and taking into account how he has changed, would I still marry Morietur now? Yes. Taking into account how I have changed over these many long years, would he still marry me now? I have my serious doubts. He freed me from slavery while I was pregnant with Death. I was newly-freed with four young children. Morietur was a cold and distant father. Had I turned down his proposal, I might have been cast away. On my own, I had nothing. Would I have died alone trying to save my children? Would they have been taken away from me? Would I have been left alone without my darling sons? Would my father have given us shelter? I do not know. Was I almost trapped into it? I was. Do I lament it? I do not.

“Death very nearly disgraced us. He got a human pregnant. Keep in mind that I had educated my sons just as my father educated me. Although I was not married when my sons were born, I was not fond of the womanizing ways that Death took up in his mid-teens. His father was notoriously hard on him when he found the girl knocking at our door. I was angry with the boy, but, for once, he loved her, so I did not destroy her the way I had his other lovers. My husband, however, was not ready to be a grandfather. Death has always been a disappointment to him. The boy was, in his mind, too attached to me. He is not fond of Death’s tendencies and habits, and he blames me. I blame myself for not having intervened earlier. Morietur beat him bloody when she showed up. I had borne a daughter and was, at the time, very much pregnant with twins. He only stopped attacking the boy when I stepped in physically. He was not so blindly enraged that he would endanger his wife and unborn children. Twins were unprecedented at the time, except for me and my sister, who were created, not born, thus, he was quite concerned about me. We had no way of knowing that I was pregnant with twins, however we did know that it was considerably more strenuous than my previous pregnancies had been. Morietur took years to learn that I could look after myself. He is still disinclined to believe so.

“There was a wedding. Keep in mind that we were not well-off, and there were a lot of us living in a very small house. Morietur and I had four sons, then a daughter, and then twin boys. There were already nine of us living there. Death’s wife and daughter would have made eleven of us. Unfortunately, though he loved her, Death’s child did not survive more than a week. She was born as early as your son John was; however she had trouble breathing. I, being the experienced mother, was caring for her and her mother, who had not fared well in childbirth. Death claimed the soul of his daughter when he was only sixteen and while she was in my arms. She was buried by Morietur in the yard. He carved her headstone. I designed it. When we moved to our current residence, her headstone and coffin were moved to the cemetery garden where she still rests. Death is still married to her mother, however most of their subsequent children have survived.

“As you well know, I have had many children with my husband both in Hell and on Earth. Neither Morietur nor I have forgiven my sister. I doubt we ever will. Life is no easier when you have a royal family, just as money makes nothing easier. When you have titles and money, life takes on a new degree of complexity and paranoia, and I fear that Morietur has not fared well. I became a Banshee shortly thereafter. You know Avalon Kavanagh, the military man who is half-Banshee and half-Vampire. He is my brother. I was Edana. Nuala was our sister. She is also my Demon twin. We all died at a very young age and became Banshees. We were again together a few lives later when we became the first Vampires by means of bat bites. Every Vampire in Hell can trace their history of Vampirism back to one of us, either directly or as a chain, or to a bite. My sister denounced Banshism and became the infamous Lianhan Shee by combining Banshism with Vampirism. Avalon prefers the name Avalon Kavanagh to Ailill Sheehan, as he is very attached to Nuala, and Nuala no longer uses the name Evelyn Sheehan. My husband, a Demon, caught Lycanthropy directly from a wolf. It is the case, as with Shane, that wolf bites are more often the source of Lycantrhopy rather than Werewolf bites. Anyhow, my husband bit me in a fit of rage. In those days, there was no cure. I was the first Vampiric patient with Lycanthropy. I was pregnant at the time, and I miscarried. It was a daughter. I have never been fond of my daughters. I more often miscarry daughters than sons. The ones who do survive do not compare to my sons. They tend to be foolish and, pardon my language, slutty like my sister. They are not useful in any way, and they continually dishonor my house, my husband, and me. I only have one daughter of whom I am fond, and she is a girl after my own heart. When I miscarried due to the Lycanthropy with which Morietur infected me, he blamed himself. He has always been fond of daughters. I have not, as I said. He does not help to raise them any more than he helps to raise sons. There was no known cure for Lycanthropy at the time, and I only survived because of my Demonic heritage.

“In regards to my duties, I grew more crucial to my father and, thus, more hated by my enemies over the years. I began to record the Annals while pregnant with Death. Father saw this as a great service and paid me well for them. I watched my husband lend money to newcomers. He knows that if he were to die tomorrow, I would be able to effectively manage the accounts with no difficulty. I may not be fond of arithmetic, however, if needs be, I can, as a matter of fact, manage. I mention this because, when he blamed himself for the miscarriage, Morietur left for some time. He took with him his robe, a cape, and a sum of money. By this point, though we had yet to build our current home, we were well-off. The sum he took was inconsequential. However, if left to run its course, Lycanthropy can last for months. For nearly a year, I was stuck in bed alone. My sons stopped by frequently, ran necessary errands, and did chores for me such as tending to the livestock, however, our fields lay fallow that year, thus, I was extremely careful with spending any money, even a small sum, unnecessarily, lest Morietur, if and when he should return, should be displeased.

“He returned, though not of his own volition, shortly after I grew well enough to move about the house. I was sitting on the front steps overlooking the fields. I was home alone and had just, for the first time since the bite, gone out to visit Pyro. I could tell that he was grateful to see me. I sat overlooking a harvest that could have been in the autumnal sunset. I had a blanket drawn about my shoulders and knit slippers on my feet. I was not entirely well, though I was well enough to be outside in the evening air. The sky was alight with crimson-red and amber-gold. Above me, it was a pure, deep blue with the first stars twinkling in the sky. The moon was huge and looming as it began to peer over the horizon opposite the magnificent sunset. Suddenly, there were footsteps and the clamor of hooves coming up the path. A man came riding up the path pushing another man ahead of him. When they drew closer, I recognized Ranrok’s steed and the heraldry on his tunic. He looks like Morietur, though he is even taller and more solidly built and has amber eyes. The two figures drew closer at an unnaturally quick pace. My husband was being pushed along by his elder brother. This effectively meant that his older brother had forced him to come home.

“’My dear lady,’ Ranrok said, ‘I believe this man belongeth to thee,’

“’Let me see his face,’ I said.

“Ranrok, dismounting his steed, pulled Morietur’s hair back with no gentility. He was hardly recognizable. His face was blackened by soot, and his hair, which had always been cropped short, hung in long, matted cords about his shoulders. He was weak and thin, but he was still my husband, though his robe and cloak were dirty and ragged.

“’Wilst thou take him into thine house?’

“’Yes, I shall, though I am weak. Please, kind sir, bring him into the house on my behalf, for I have not the strength to aid him. I humbly thank you for this service, which you have done for me out of kindness.’

“’Thou owest me nothing for this service. He remaineth still my younger brother, and I still hath a duty to look after him.’

“I thanked him and offered him dinner, however he refused and left Morietur and me alone. Morietur would not look me in the eyes or let me come near him. I boiled water over the kitchen fire and carried it out to the bathing shed. It was difficult to get water, for one had to pump it into a cast-iron pot, put it over the fire, and carry a hot, heavy pot outside to the tub, which was much like an elongated barrel on a platform with a piece of rubber to stop a knothole in the bottom. The idea of making a bath was a preposterous notion for an evening, but I insisted, for I could not share a bed with a husband so filthy. It may be noted that this was the first time that I was called a lady by anyone other than my husband or my father. For me to insist that my husband be cared for was unprecedented. He was, until that point, my absolute lord and master. I was not and am not his equal, and it would be incorrect for you to assume that he did not resist. I have always had a duty to my husband to care for him. None of my children are bold enough to contradict their father. My husband is not an easy man to love, and he is an even more difficult man for whom to care. I looked after him at a great cost to my own health. He had, as I said, been away for the greater part of a year. I lit the lamp and washed him. It took me quite a long time to comb through the matted mess that had become of his hair. I was weaker then, and I was choking back tears the entire time. Because of his shame, he allowed me to do these things, though, for the same reason, he could not look me in the eyes for over a week. I found his nightshirt and put him to bed. I kept him there for several days while I stayed in the nursery. He recovered quickly, though I regressed. As I said, the only reason that I survived Lycanthropy is the fact that I was created to be a Demon. I became quite ill again, however, when my sons came to visit me a week after their father returned, though they were disheartened to see me so ill again, they were glad to see my husband home and caring for me. My father came by to visit with Morietur and express his concern. The outcome of this was an early divide between my husband and myself. No amount of coaxing on Morietur’s part could get me to leave the house that I looked after for the entire time that he was away. My sons were not happy with their father, and they made it known. I never allowed them to do so, though I was blamed for their insolence. There was little love expressed between us, but we would not divorce.

“Shortly thereafter, a great war began between Heaven and Hell. It was fought on Hell’s southern plains. It was the first war, and we did not start it. It was fought over the right to take the souls of humans. Every man in Hell, slave or master, fought. I wanted to fight, but I was forbidden unanimously because I am a woman. Even War fought in this war. I was not this calm in those years, so, as I became irate rather quickly, there was a large and violent ice storm over the southern plains. About four hundred of our men died, though none of my relatives were among the fallen, and at least twice that many of our enemies died. Father wanted to wait until tallies were taken in order to assess the damage, however I rallied my sons, the Horsemen, and the five of us went into battle. We struck while the enemy soldiers were counting the fallen, and we struck hard, moreover we got no credit. I was explicitly forbidden from mentioning that detail in the Annals and never received any reward. My husband received all of the credit. The anger over that injustice has been seething for many long years. As you know, I am no violent feminist. I have no desire for liberation or such nonsense. I just want credit where credit is due. My husband will not admit what truly happened. If you ask him, he will deny it. My sons will tell you about my role. That war made us wealthy. Our troops and those of Heaven needed supplies, and, though feeding the enemy might seem like treason, a different ideal was held in those years. I also sold much clothing to them. I made custom clothing from wool either woven into cloth or spun and knitted. They were cold and hungry, and they had money. The arrangement made was that our soldiers had to disarm and escort them for my safety. Morietur also looted their deserted camp. We did not make our money on the backs of slaves. We made it through war, farming, and money lending.

“We built a house near here shortly thereafter. Around it grew this little paradise. The forests were thick then, and only the tenacious could build houses here. Bridgeton, the oldest city in Hell, which was then called simply, ‘the city,’ as there was only the one at the time, grew up next to it. Five years later we built our third home which was a small fortress. It is vacant now, however, despite the feud between Morietur and the royal family of the Werewolves, they have enough respect for him to ensure that nobody else gets into that house. We own five houses. The fourth was a present to me from my husband. It is not far from the school where Lynn, Maire, and I teach. It has never been our permanent residence. Our fifth and final house is our current residence. Morietur has plans to build a vacation house on the northern coast of the Vampire District. I personally own properties in the Banshee Quarter. One is on the western islands; one is in the mountains; and one is on the plains just north of Kilainaigh City. I would like to build upon them, but my husband might not like that if I do not first ask him. He has a terrible temper when crossed. You may think me a terrible woman for speaking against my husband’s honor, however, I feel that I am not committing any act of slander, as I am not saying this in any public forum; nor am I telling lies; and you are not the kind of man who would quote me on the subjects of my husband’s virtues and faults.

“Our current residence was built half a millennium after our wedding. It was given to me from Morietur as an anniversary present. At first, I stayed very close to his side, for I thought it horribly large and unnecessary. Morietur has a habit of losing his temper with me, hurting me, seething for days, and buying me gifts as retribution. I am not saying that I stay with him for gifts, nor am I saying that I do not have a terrible temper myself. The house was not one of those gifts. Most of my finer dresses come from my husband’s feelings of guilt. He dotes upon me too often for my taste. I would like to see what life is like spending time with my husband at home cooking dinner every night and embroidering by the fire. I would love to educate my children at home again rather than taking them with me. My Demon children know the history of the Poblacht na Shióg better than most of my students ever will. I want to be a wife and mother above all else. I do not blame the school or our state. I blame myself. I am a terrible mother for not having been there for my children in their youths. My children respect me, but they fear their father. To be a better mother than Morietur is a father is worth nothing.

“Our republic is different from that of the Banshees. We have a Senate. The school in Kilainaigh City is very powerful in terms of influence, but the Banshee people elect their leaders. It is a republic in name only. Technically, the Banshee Republic is a democracy. It started out as a consulate, but Katy O’Grady has moral obsessions; Maire is power-hungry and controlling; Lynn is not legally-minded, so she leaves holes in her arguments; Kitty O’Neil cannot stay still long enough to decide on any serious action; and I have a terrible temper that cannot handle that kind of nonsense among politicians. The only decisive action we ever made was to set up the Poblacht na Shióg. For some time, I served in their legislature, which was voted by the public among aristocrats. Every town got one vote. Every county got one representative. Among Banshees, that did not function well, so we eventually opened it to popular vote and allowed anyone to run for office. This was around the time the twins arrived in Hell. I never ran for office. Many people were surprised, however, when children as young as the twins were at that time arrive in Hell, someone needs to serve as a surrogate parent until they are old enough to attend the academy at Kilainaigh City. I took them in, as you know, so I was quite busy, though I had no children of my own living at home at the time. Morietur found them amusing, but they never left my side.

“Your brothers were like sons to me. As you know, I knew them from their life on Earth. I looked after them for ten years before they went to school. I taught them to read and write. I looked after them when they were ill. I told them stories and played with them in the orchards and fields. I loved them as if they were my own sons. The only exception to that is the fact that I would never allow them to refer to me as their mother. Your aunt was a lovely woman, and I never wanted to take her place. Normally, the new students are divided by segmenting an alphabetical list by surname, counting off of a similar list by five, or by putting name slips into a hat, cooking pot, or other available vessel and pulling them out in turns. It is very rare for anyone to request to have or not to have a certain student under their administrative charge. I requested the twins immediately, causing my colleagues to unanimously sigh with relief, as they had seen the twins grow up attached to me and saw that they respected no other after living in my home for ten years. In short, they were more work than most people could handle because they could be quite mischievous if given the chance. Thus, for nineteen years I looked after them. After they graduated, I helped them to obtain a footing in society. When, five years later, they asked me to look after you, I was exalted at the chance. I think that covers the major gist of my life until the time that you arrived. Was there anything else you wanted to know?”

“Why’d ye start drinkin’? I mean, when? Did Morietur have somethin’ to do wi’ tha’ or was it all curiosity?”

“Morietur started your family tradition of giving a newborn child alcohol. I was the first. Did I drink heavily at first? No. Did I eventually develop a taste for alcohol? Yes, of course I did. Was I very young? Physically? Yes. Numerically? No. I grew very slowly, but I was about eight in your terms when it became a habit. By the time I came to physical maturity, it was an addiction. Did I stop drinking while pregnant? Demons, as a rule, do not.”

“But why?”

“Why do we not cease to drink while pregnant?”

“Nay, why’d ye start drinkin’?”

“It is a multifaceted set of reasons. Partially, it was because of the availability of alcohol. Literally everyone in Hell at that time drank alcohol. There is a definite reason for that. We were only able to chill things in cold weather because we did not have a way to tightly seal a container or produce ice in warm weather. Milk does not last long when it is not chilled, as you well know. Anything with sugar in it will ferment. We did what we could. I spent my time by the sides of two great men: Morietur and the Devil, both of whom drink fairly heavily. Children learn through the examples provided by those around them, and I was no exception to that rule. My childhood was not happy or warm. It was, in fact, quite miserable. I was injured often and not well-loved. I was expected to be an adult before I was able to hold a quill in my tiny hands. I was brought to many balls at my father’s house. The only thing to drink there and at many other times was alcohol. Morietur drank a lot. I was a cute little girl, and I have an identical twin. We were dressed in gowns from a young age and told to serve drinks, flirt, and be cute. My twin loved flirting. She is far more outgoing than I am. My criticism of her is that she is a harlot. She calls me a shrew for my monogamy. I am not fond of my sister. It was routine for us to wear identical dresses, save their color, for she wore white, and I wore black. To return to your question, my sister, to a degree, drove me to drink, as did my husband. No amount of speculation could completely distill the reason for my drinking.”

“So, could ye stop if ye wanted to?”

“In all likelihood, I could. I have curtailed my drinking since I was younger, however I have no intention to stop drinking completely.”

“Ye said ye had Lycanthropy. I ken well ye saw two sons through the same. I ken well one fared ill. How awful was that to watch?”

“It was and still is awful. He has not recovered. The poor man cannot work. He and one of his brothers went to a tavern to celebrate his wedding. A Werewolf traveling on business recognized them as sons of Morietur and got into a fight with them. They killed him but not before receiving bites. One recovered quickly and went on to serve a jail term for non-premeditated murder. The other, who was about to be married, spent three years in bed, went blind from the treatments, and has a permanently weakened heart. He also cannot eat solid food or go out in sunlight. He did, however, marry his fiancée. She is one of the only women in my family for whom I have any respect. The others are my sister-in-law Arimanthia, one daughter of mine, and my two older sisters, your wife and Kitty O’Neil, who is also the Demon of Envy.”

“I am terribly sorry.”

“It is fine. Do not worry for him. If anything happens to either of your sons, you will understand. At the moment, I am far more worried about you. You do not look well.”

“I’ll be fine. I jus’ need sleep.”

“Very well, Jack, I shall leave you be. I shall be downstairs helping Shane and Lynn. I wish you could see John. He looks yet more like you do by the day. Sleep well.”