Chapter 10

Reuben

The news wasn’t good but it was better than it had been. The war was starting to turn. The Allies had invaded France on June 6 and Hitler was facing the inevitable. Maybe a year, they were saying, maybe less. The war in the Pacific against the Japanese was not going so well. But, again, it was simply a matter of time.

Reuben Meyer listened to the reports then turned off the radio. He felt twitchy. Guilty. He was fit and healthy. He was twenty nine years old. He should be doing his part for his country. He should have been drafted. He hadn’t been because Reuben Meyer didn’t exist. He was a Flamefall. A supremely capable and effective warrior and he was being forced to sit on his hands. It stuck in his throat. It made him sick, smothered and stifled.

He missed the city. He missed everything associated with city life. But the Flamefalls had, on the surface anyway, retreated to isolated areas where they maintained a pretense of doing vital war work. In one, very important way, it was the absolute truth. The war they fought was simply a different war. It was one of attrition and it could have no final, deciding victory to bring it to an end. Reuben, however, hated the lies he was forced to tell.

His best friend didn’t appear to be concerned about that but then Peregrine Gabrielli had always been a hundred ten per cent focused. Four years Reuben’s junior, Peregrine was a Flamefall in whom the flame burned bright and hot. His family line, they said, went back to the very start, to the first Flamefall. Reuben Meyer’s family line wasn’t so ancient nor as noble, but he still had the fire in his gut. Reuben fretted about the war in the Pacific and in Asia and Europe, and Peregrine shrugged it off, saying there was a war older and far more pernicious. Reuben should concentrate on that.

They were living in a tiny town in Nevada, miles away from anything and anywhere. Most of the people in the strangely named River Sands were Flamefalls. An elderly couple ran a rooming house and gas station – everyone else was different. Sam and Amelia Morton were the best protected people in the United States, they just didn’t know it.

Reuben’s mother ran the grocery store and Reuben worked behind the counter. Peregrine’s father – the thickset yet light footed man everyone knew as Ox – had the hardware store. The two stores faced each other across the single street.

“You finished with the radio news?”

“Yeah,” Reuben called, aware his hands were curled into tight fists.

“Put on some music,” his mother called. “Cheer the place up some.”

“Do it yourself,” he muttered and walked out.

Reuben didn’t want to be cheered up. He wanted to lash out. There was only one place safe enough for him to do that – the desert. As he stalked past the hardware store, Peregrine came out and fell into step beside him.

“You look pretty mad,” he remarked.

“I can’t stand this. Not this place, this situation. Where’s the rule which says I can’t enlist, huh?”

“You know you can’t,” Peregrine replied. “You need papers. Birth certificate for one. Makes it kinda difficult when you don’t have one, don’t you think?”

Even the younger man’s lightly teasing voice was an irritation. Reuben lengthened his stride. Behind him, Peregrine frowned as his step slowed then he ran after his friend and tried to ignore the scowl on Reuben’s face.

“What’s with you, man?” Peregrine asked more soberly.

“I told you already. I can’t stand this .. doing nothing. I want to help. I need to be out there.”

“You have a job to do,” Peregrine said. “An important job. Reuben, for God’s sake, don’t shut me out! I’m trying to be a friend here.”

“No, you’re just coming out with all the same old excuses. Reminding me of my duty, that I have a job, an important job, that I already fight in a war. Yeah, that’s all true, but it isn’t enough. Not for me. We could do a lot more, Perry. A lot. Doesn’t have to be our regular work. We could put in an honest day’s labor in a munitions facility. What we’re doing right now .. sitting on our butts .. it looks bad. I’ve seen old man Morton watching us. He thinks to himself there’s two fine young men, why aren’t they in the thick? And I have no answer to that.”

Peregrine put a hand on Reuben’s shoulder. It was angrily shrugged away so Peregrine grabbed hold of his friend’s upper arm and hauled him to a stop. Reuben’s face was flushed a furious red. His lips were clamped over his teeth and his jaw muscles were twitching.

“You’ve had your say, let me have mine. One, it isn’t the same old excuse. It is the reason why we’re here, why any of us are here. This other war going on, yeah, it’s bad but it will end, Reuben. Our war won’t. Thousands of guys die every day, true, but they can be replaced. Maybe not the personalities but the numbers can. You could enlist, sure. You can fake some papers, go make yourself feel better by laying down your life for your country. There is no rule to stop you doing that. But we can’t be replaced so quickly. It takes a lifetime of training to do this work, you know that. Every time one of us dies … ” Peregrine shook his head. “If you have to put your life on the line, do it for your cause.”

Reuben’s shoulders sagged. “It isn’t enough, Perry.”

“Okay. If you promise me you won’t enlist, I’ll come with you back to San Francisco. We’ll get work as civilians. Like you say, a munitions facility.”

At that, Reuben smiled. “Yeah, right, as if that’d actually happen. Look at us. See us thru old man Morton’s eyes. We’re in great shape. Prime military material.”

“Not if we fake a weak heart or something along with a birth certificate,” Peregrine replied. “I know you wanna do more but we can’t leave for long periods. If something happens on the mainland an’ we’re two thousand miles away slogging thru some Pacific island jungle, how the hell are we gonna get back? An’ don’t say in spirit form because we need quiet for that. We need undisturbed. Chances are, our comrades in arms would think we’d died an’ they’d bury us. Plus nightly training wouldn’t happen for the same reasons. Reuben .. it’s a noble idea an’ very worthy of you .. but it ain’t gonna happen. Set your sights a little lower an’ I’ll be there with you.”

“You mean that?”
“I’m your friend,” Peregrine replied. “Friends stick together.”

“Thanks, Perry.”

“Don’t mention it. My Dad will probably let us stay in the family house .. or we could find lodgings somewhere in the city or south San Francisco. Depends where the work is, I guess.”

They strolled on toward the desert, the anger and frustration dissipating in the wash of new ideas and potential vistas.

“It’ll be like the old days,” Reuben commented. “Just a small unit of us. A couple of families, if that, in one location, waiting for orders from the Legacy to go in an’ do something.” He grinned. “I’m kinda hoping they cut us from the loop for a while because .. we’re doing war work.”

Peregrine didn’t mention – yet again – that they already were. Instead, he looked at his friend and saw a man in great shape, poised at the start of his prime years. Reuben had dark brown hair with a white streak in it, and sandy brown eyes. His lips were a little thin and, just lately, more turned down in frustration than up in a smile. His nose was neat, small, what Ox called a button nose. Reuben was handsome, there was no doubt about that, and Peregrine thought maybe that was another, unspoken reason why Reuben hated being in River Sands. There were no girls. Yes, there were girls but they were wives and girlfriends, all Flamefalls, all spoken for. There were no new faces. Maybe Reuben was felling a little sexual frustration on top of everything else. A move back to the city might be a good thing for both of them. Even Peregrine at times felt that forcibly isolated so far from anywhere was like being interned in a POW camp.

It hadn’t been their decision. They’d been happy to remain in their towns and cities, and do what they could to help. The Legacy had chosen to send them away, reasoning that, while men did evil things to each other in the name of restoring peace, the great war would go on and the people who actively fought in that should be kept safe. They had to survive so they could continue to protect the Legacy and make sure they followed Legacy rules. Thus, they had found themselves in River Sands, Nevada, and they had surprised the hell out of Sam and Amelia Morton who’d been planning to move someplace else.

A few days after they’d arrived, a big, metal shed had been erected on the outskirts of the tiny town and a razor wire fence put up around it. The shed was empty. The Flamefalls used it for training purposes but they confided to the Mortons that it was a top secret facility engaged in vital war work. The old couple believed them but it didn’t stop them looking at the young men in town and wondering.

“Actually,” Peregrine commented, “River Sands is like it was in the old old days. Entire families in one place. Thirty or forty Flamefalls, all part of the same community. Of course,” he added, “there were a lot more of us back then.”

Reuben shivered. “That sounds weird. Can you imagine what that must have been like?”

“Yeah,” Peregrine laughed wryly. “Life was easier. I bet they actually had time out. Then again, they had no running water or indoor facilities. Things were pretty basic.”

“So it really is like River Sands,” Reuben chuckled. “Desert. Heat. Sun. And pretty basic.”

“Not for much longer. I’ll talk to my Dad tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” Reuben agreed.

*****

Three nights later, Reuben lay sweating on top of his bed, wide awake with excitement. Tomorrow, early, he would be leaving this backwater dump and starting to live again back in the city. His mother, a Flamefall who’d married into the club, didn’t want him to go. Reuben didn’t care what she wanted and he’d made her cry. He figured Ox would take her under his wing. And it was only for a while. The war would only last another year, maybe less. Besides, he was twenty nine and still living at home. He rationalized it until he didn’t care anymore. She was the selfish one, not him.

Reuben Meyer, a trueborn Flamefall, understood the rules. What he didn’t understand were all the other rules and why everyone obeyed them. There was no rule which said he could not live as normal a life as he could within the main rules. He knew he had to keep his existence a secret, but there wasn’t an actual rule which said he had to. That was just tradition. A throwback to the old days. People were scared of what they didn’t understand and a man able to do what he could would have been regarded as a horrible freak of nature. In the millennia since, nothing much had changed there. He’d be thrown in jail and the key tossed away, or put in some institution for the mentally unstable, or put in a freak show. Rather than have to suffer any of those fates, the Flamefalls kept a tight silence. It was an unspoken rule rather than a factual, written one.

What caused him so much mental turmoil, however, were the rules imposed upon him by the Legacy. He felt them like invisible chains wrapped around his body, smothering him, not letting him breathe. And yet, for all that he hated the restrictions and limitations, he admired the Legacy. They were a lot more free than Reuben Meyer was. They worked over a far wider base than he ever could.

Peregrine had told him once that, in the distant past, the Legacy and the Flamefalls had been closer and they had been friends. The rules hadn’t existed. Instead, there had been a cooperation treaty in place. No one knew why that had ended nor why the present agreement had replaced it. It was so far back in time that even Peregrine’s story had a mythic quality about it. Reuben hoped it was true. It sounded nice. But he didn’t know and he couldn’t put total belief in it. It would have been like confessing he believed totally in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy.

What he was doing, what he would do tomorrow, was more than just resuming his life and making a contribution to the war effort. It was breaking a rule. Reuben felt incredibly liberated by it.

Peregrine Gabrielli, of course, didn’t see it that way. Peregrine was trueborn as well and he embraced all the rules and regulations, and never once dreamed of breaking one of them. He had talked with Ox, explaining why he and Reuben felt they had to do this, and he had spoken in such a way that Ox couldn’t refuse. Two of them, back in the city, working quietly, arousing no suspicion, close enough to return promptly if they were needed, a promise not to enlist, not even the Legacy could deny them that. It wasn’t a wholesale defection. Besides, there was a Legacy house in San Francisco. He and Reuben could be very useful to them if they were right in their backyard. So Ox had said yes, given it his blessing and then given Peregrine the key to the house on Paradise Drive. He’d manufactured all the papers they would need, including a medical discharge from military service – one citing a weak heart and the other stating acute asthma.

“Just remember to wheeze a little every so often,” Ox had advised. “And try to avoid heavy lifting.”

So Reuben felt liberated in two ways – leaving River Sands was the other – and Peregrine saw it as his duty. That was the difference between them. Peregrine liked being a Flamefall. Reuben wanted a normal, regular life. More than that, he wanted to make his own rules.

The night dragged. Reuben wished they could have air conditioning because this room was like a sauna. He could have gone training but he lay there, sweating, counting the minutes, listening to the eerie, whispering sound of the desert.

Eventually, the deep dark began to lift and Reuben sat up. His bag was packed and ready by the door. He washed quickly, dressed, picked up his bag and walked silently thru the house, letting himself out by the backdoor. Outside, it was cool and he shivered slightly. The town was still, not a soul moving except for him. Reuben Meyer set off for the Gabrielli house. He didn’t look back.

*****

“We can live here,” Peregrine suggested. “It’d keep down our expenses.”

“It’s too far off the main track,” Reuben dismissed. “We need to be where the work is, Perry. It’s a nice house. I’ve always thought so, but … ” He shrugged awkwardly.

“Weekends then,” Peregrine went on, not insulted by his friend’s reluctance.

“Sure. Weekends are good. We’ll need time out.”

“Catch up on the news, and training. This place’ll be quiet. We won’t be disturbed.”

“Whatever you say.”

Peregrine looked round. “Aren’t you gonna go visit your Mom? Let her know how you’re doing, at least. My Dad said I have to visit him once a week. It’s no chore, Reuben.”

“My Mom and I don’t exactly see eye to eye. She didn’t want me to leave. I don’t wanna go back to that dump.”

“You do intend to get a job, don’t you?” Peregrine inquired. “It’s why we came here. Or was it just an excuse to get away from everything at home?”

“I’ll get a job. I’ll make bombs or I’ll load them onto ships. I’ll do something to help out.” Reuben sat down suddenly, his eyes closing. “You’re my best friend, Perry. I can talk to you. You understand me .. or you try to. It means a lot, it really does. Sure, you’re a stickler for the rules and I’m always trying to find a way around them .. but I don’t feel it’s wrong to want a life. I wanna make my own choices. Maybe even start a family. I can’t do any of that living with my Mom. She smothers me rather than mothering me. I’m twenty nine .. and she didn’t want me to leave.”

Peregrine could understand that. Freda Meyer had married in, become pregnant, given birth to a son, and, when Reuben was only four, had lost her husband to a demon. She’d had to raise Reuben alone as well as be a Flamefall. It had left her slightly neurotic. She wasn’t a danger but she was clinging. Even regular visits from her husband hadn’t helped. Reuben had been kept always on a tight leash. Eventually, he had rebelled. Any teenager would, even a Flamefall.

What disturbed Peregrine was his friend’s frank admission that he tried to find a way around the rules. Peregrine had never had any problems living within the rigid structure of the club. The rules made sense to him. The rules imposed by the Legacy .. well, he obeyed those he agreed with and ignored those he didn’t. Peregrine knew he was a Flamefall first and a Legacy Enforcer second. The Legacy would not ever stop him doing his duty. Most of their rules he was okay with. But, when it came to ignoring them, he never spoke about it. He would never have stood in front of Ox and said what Reuben had just said. Come to that, he wouldn’t have said it to Reuben, and Reuben was his best friend.

There again, Reuben had to have meant Legacy rules. Trying to find a way around Flamefall rules was asking for a whole lot of grief. The most rebellious teenager in the entire world did not want to risk that.

“Well, you don't have to think about Legacy rules here,” Peregrine replied. “They believe we’re still in River Sands. But you should go visit your Mom. Even if it’s only for ten minutes once a month. C’mon, Rube, don’t make me beg, huh?”

Reuben regarded him and nodded briefly. “Okay, Perry. It isn’t as though she can keep me there, is it?”

“No. Now, how about we grab a shower, fix some lunch, then go find ourselves some legitimate employment?”

*****

The work was easy to find but monotonous to learn and then to do. No one complained, however, because they all knew how important it was. Reuben didn’t even mind the monotony, the long hours nor the pay. They were all potent symbols to him. He was, for the first time in his life, enjoying a regular existence. There was no difference between him and any other man walking the street.

He even liked the dingy, dark little room he and Peregrine shared in San Bruno during the week. Two narrow, uncomfortably hard beds, a single closet for their clothes, a bathroom down the hall which they had to share with others – again, it represented a wonderful freedom. There were ordinary people living there, talking about ordinary problems at the breakfast table, such as the war and when it would end, and how terrible it was for the people in England who had rationing of food, clothes, just about everything.

At first, they’d looked at him and Peregrine with darkly suspicious eyes, eyes just like old man Morton’s. Reuben had felt a little self conscious when he began to speak of the rheumatic fever he’d suffered as a child. It had left him with a weak heart, he said, and he felt so guilty that he couldn’t go fight for his country like so many other men his age. But he was doing what he could in the munitions plant, working on bombs for the planes which flew from the Navy’s carriers. His friend Peregrine, cursed with asthma, was working right alongside him, and they felt honored to be making this small contribution to the effort. After that, everyone in the rooming house thought they were great guys.

Monday thru Thursday, they ate supper and went to spend an hour or so in a bar nearby. Friday, however, they piled into the ancient Ford which Ox had let them take and they drove to Tiburon. Peregrine used the entire weekend catching up on the news with his father, and devoting more time for training. Reuben, however, went exploring, listened to the radio, relaxed by the pool, and generally just took time out. When Peregrine idly mentioned the concern he felt about his friend’s apparent lack of motivation, Reuben answered that he was getting used to being normal. Once the attraction wore off, he’d knuckle down. He promised. He seemed so happy to be doing what he wanted that Peregrine let it go. And that was his first mistake.

*****

They’d been back in the city for six weeks when the Legacy discovered they were there. Peregrine opened the door to a stranger late one blustery Friday evening in September.

“Why are you here?” the stranger demanded. He sounded irritated.

“I live here,” Peregrine replied. “This is my home. Who are you?”

“My name’s James Peake.” He waited for a response. “I’m fairly local,” he added when Peregrine didn’t appear to recognize the name.

“Oh! Right!” Peregrine straightened. “Was there something you needed?”

“Who is it, Perry?” Reuben called.

“There’s two of you here?” James queried, startled. “Is there something going on we should know about?”

Reuben strolled into the foyer. “Haven’t you heard? There’s a war on.”

“Yes, I know,” James said. “Is there a demonic presence in the city?”

“You’d better come in,” Peregrine said, and closed the door against the drifting veils of rain. “As far as we’re aware, no, no demons in the city. If there was, you would’ve contacted us. Right?”

James frowned. “Then .. what war are you talking about?”

Reuben went very still, his eyes turning cold and dead. “The one the world is fighting. That war. Heard of it?” he eventually, and icily, remarked. “Some of us didn’t appreciate being shoved in the desert to sit it out. Some of us felt we should do something.”

“You can’t become involved,” James instantly responded. “As much as you might want to do something, and I have no doubt that you could do a lot, it would cause too many questions to be asked.”

Peregrine saw Reuben’s hands bunch into fists. “We can do more than just fight demons, James,” he explained quickly. “We have work. Down in San Bruno. We help make bombs.”

“Manual labor?” James asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Yes. It’s .. different but we feel we’re contributing. We are citizens of this country even if we don't exist. We’re not doing anything to make anyone ask questions.”

“We can’t allow this,” James briskly stated. “It compromises our security. And yours, of course. You have to – ”

Reuben closed his hands around the man’s arms and dragged him farther into the house.

“Sit down,” he snarled.

James subsided onto a chair, his face pale and scared.

“Now you listen to me,” Reuben said, bending forward. James cowered back. “We have to do what you say when it concerns the Legacy. Rest of the time, we do what we want. And we want to hold down a regular job. No rules say we can’t, not yours, not ours. So butt out an’ leave us alone. Clear enough for you?”

“It doesn’t compromise anyone’s security,” Peregrine added, casting an uneasy look at Reuben. “We haven’t mentioned the Legacy, nor would we. It isn’t the kind of subject to crop up in conversation. We talk about the war, James. Not much else. An’ the work we do .. is manual labor. To be honest, we’re kinda enjoying the change.”

James nodded quickly, his gaze not moving from Reuben’s animated face. “But it’s .. such a waste of your energy.”

“No, it really isn’t,” Peregrine replied.

“What is a waste of our time is dealing with people like you,” Reuben tacked on. “Now, if you have a situation an’ you need our help cos you screwed up, you call Perry here. He’ll be glad to help you out. Me? I’d prefer to see you find your own way out of the mess you alone created in the first place.”

Reuben walked away. He heard soft conversation behind him as Peregrine smoothed over the cracks and attempted to apologize. Then he heard footsteps, the door opening and closing, and footsteps coming back. He took a deep breath.

“What the hell was all that about?” Peregrine demanded. “What’s wrong with you?”

Reuben shook his head. “Nothing.”

“C’mon, Rube, don’t spin me a line,” Peregrine argued. “You went off the deep end in there! That guy is gonna have to change his underwear when he gets home. What’s wrong?”

“I told you! I’m getting used to being normal, doing routine things, being like everyone else. Ordinary people don’t have to put up with other people telling them how to live. They don’t!” Reuben pointed out fiercely as the younger man started to open his mouth. “At work, yes. Out on the street .. maybe, by a traffic cop or something, but not in their own homes, not when all they’re doing is holding down a job and not being a nuisance to anyone.”

He was trembling. Every muscle in his body had a fine quiver running thru it. His breathing was increased and shallow. He was flushed and his eyes were a little too wide open.

“I’m gonna get a beer,” Peregrine announced. “You want one?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Peregrine nodded slowly and went thru to the kitchen. As he opened the icebox, he saw his hands were trembling too. He clenched them shut for a moment then spread his fingers again. The tremor was gone. It would never do to let Reuben know he was a little scared. When his friend had said nothing was wrong, he hadn’t been lying, and that had put Peregrine on alert. He would have to handle this carefully.

Reuben had sat down, risen to draw the drapes to block out the miserable night, and resumed his place. Peregrine handed him an open bottle then sat down opposite him.

“Calmed down yet?” he asked. Reuben’s eyes flashed up. “Good, then you listen to me. We’re doing a good thing, Rube, working down in San Bruno. Good thing, right thing. But it’s a sham. A pretense. We do not need to do it. We want to, an’ that’s different. Sit down!” he thundered as Reuben began to move, to rise, to leave this conversation unfinished. He fell back into the chair.

“You’ve said a lot about .. ordinary people, routine things, normal lives,” Peregrine went on, his own blood growing hot. “How many times do we have to say this? We are not ordinary people an’ we don’t have normal lives. We can never be like everyone else. Stop trying to make it happen! You’ll only be disappointed. You’re already stuffed full of resentment. We have a great life, Rube. We do. We, none of us, ever need to work, not like all those ordinary people. In exchange, we have responsibility. And that’s what you just can’t stomach. The discipline.”

Peregrine leaned forward. “When was the last time you went training?”

Reuben’s gaze slid away. “Before we came here,” he muttered.

“Over six weeks ..? Why? We have to train every night! If we don't, there has to be a reason like .. we’re working – and I don’t mean a regular job with a pay check at the end of the week!”

“I didn’t want to do it,” Reuben snapped irritably. “I’m tired of people telling me what to do all the time, okay? Go training, go here, go there, protect me, clean up this, kill that. I’m tired of it, Perry. I wanna do my own thing.”

“You’re a Flamefall. That means you serve a greater cause. There is no such thing as your own thing! You fight an’ win, or you die trying. No other choices. You cannot, ever, quit. What is so tough to understand about that?”

“Look – ”

“I am looking an’ I don’t much like what I see,” Peregrine stated.

Reuben flushed. “All I’m saying is … ” He swallowed. “I wanna be a Flamefall. Period. I don’t want the Legacy telling me how to live. They’ve interfered too much for way too long, Perry. They take us for granted. They mess up an’ don’t even ask why, they just .. scream help an’ we come running. And then they turn up an’ tell us we can’t build bombs cos people will ask questions? What’s that all about? Protecting us? I don’t think so. We don’t need it. Protecting themselves – again – is far nearer the mark. That’s what I mean. I want out of that part of my life. I want to do what I want when I want with no one outside our club telling me something different. I’ll still fight evil. If your Dad called right now an’ ordered me in, I’d go.”

Peregrine nodded. He could understand Reuben’s attitude. Some of what he’d said was very true – the Legacy did take them for granted and, just knowing they were there, ready to act, made the Legacy sloppy. They didn’t have to think very much. It didn’t matter if things went not quite according to plan or just plain wrong. The Enforcers were always a phone call away and were often on site before the call even ended.

He couldn’t totally understand Reuben’s desire to be free of it but then he wasn’t Reuben. He’d grown up in a family unit completely different to Freda Meyer and her son. Peregrine had been guided, taught and trained with patience and love. Reuben obviously had been raised along far more stringent and exacting lines.

“Okay. If the Legacy needs help, an’ contacts us .. which they might now they know we’re here, I’ll deal with it. You keep away from ’em. But you will go training tonight and every night from now on. No arguments, Rube. The weapons we have, an’ use, need energy. That energy builds up if we don’t train. You clearly have an excess. You need to get rid of some of it or you could make a mistake an’ pay the price. I don’t wanna lose my best friend. Right now, if my Dad called .. you’re not ready. You’ve lost the edge. You have to get it back an’ the only way you can do that is by accepting the discipline an’ saying .. this is me.”

Reuben nodded. “You’re right. Absolutely right, about everything. I’ve let myself slide. I was free an’ having fun. If you’d grown up with my Mom, you’d understand how .. refreshing it is to choose for yourself. Even what to eat, whether to have a beer, sometimes what clothes to wear. I needed a break from all that, Perry. I thought I didn’t need the discipline .. but I do. You’re right. I have to go training or, one day, I am gonna make a mistake. I hate the Legacy for being sloppy .. an’ I’ve become sloppy. Maybe that’s why I lost it earlier. I saw myself an’ I didn’t much like it either.”

He shrugged slightly, a twitch of his shoulders. “I’m glad you’re my friend enough to put me straight. My Mom would just have screamed at me, given me orders with no reason why. But you .. you explain things, tell me why it’s important to me that I have to do stuff, and not just because it’s important to everyone else an’ I don’t count. I’m sorry I shouted at you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Peregrine responded. “And I won’t mention this to anyone back home. It never happened .. provided you knuckle down an’ train.”

“Sure. I promise. I can see why I have to. Probably blow a fuse if I don’t,” he remarked with a thin, lop-sided smile. “And .. thanks for offering to keep the Legacy off my back.” Reuben shrugged again and shook his head. “It’s probably a short term reaction. A knee-jerk. Once I’m back on an even keel, I’ll be fine with them. You’re a great friend to me, Perry.”

“Yeah, I am,” Peregrine agreed, grinning.

“Well .. I’d better turn in. Got a lot to catch up on.”

Peregrine nodded. “G’night, Rube.”

He trusted Reuben to do exactly what he’d said. And that was his second mistake.

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