“I don’t get you,” I said. “You love practicing law.”
“Now I will practice it for you and Curran.”
He had practically run the legal department in the Pack, and he had walked away from all of it? I didn’t know if I had to feel guilty, frustrated, or grateful. “I doubt there will be much work for you here.”
“You’d be surprised,” Barabas said.
“I thought you were all set to work with Jim.”
Barabas shook his head. “I stayed long enough to ease the transition. Jim needs a different lawyer. Trisha is taking over from me. She will do very well for him.”
“And Christopher?”
Barabas sighed. “Christopher wouldn’t stay in the Keep without you or me. Once he realized that both of us had left, he wandered the hallways crying and then went catatonic.”
I ground my teeth. “I told them to call me if there were problems.”
“They called me instead,” Barabas said. “So I came and got him.”
“And Jim just let him go?” After all, Christopher was the one who had brought the recipe for panacea to us.
“He had no choice. Christopher decided to live here with me. I’ll take good care of him. Jim always viewed him as a security risk, and if the panacea makers run into any problems, they know where to find him.”
Christopher had been doing better. In the past six months he had managed to keep a schedule, dress himself, and maintain personal hygiene. But he still had moments of complete confusion. In the Keep our security staff always kept an eye on him, but here the whole weight of responsibility rested on Barabas.
“He cooks now,” Barabas said. “It was very sudden. He walked into the kitchen and just started doing it.”
“What did he make?”
“Cream puffs shaped like swans. They were ridiculously delicious.”
“Barabas . . .”
“Kate, I like taking care of him. He is no trouble.” Barabas raised his head. “Curran is outside.”
“Did you hear him?” When he wanted to, Curran moved completely silently, a fact I often regretted because he enjoyed popping up behind me out of thin air and making me jump.
“No. I felt him.” Barabas grimaced. “It’s hard to describe. It’s a kind of awareness, like something large and dangerous passing by you in absolute darkness. You don’t hear it, you don’t see it, you don’t smell it, but you know it’s there. It was better at the Keep. He was always at the Keep, so you always felt a small measure of it, and the place was always crowded, which helped some. Now it’s more jarring. He isn’t there and then suddenly he is there.” He blew a long breath out. “This will take some getting used to.”
Ha! I wasn’t the only one.
Curran knocked on the door.
“It’s open,” Barabas said.
Curran stepped inside. He was holding the Guild’s Manual and Jim’s contract in his left hand and a pair of my soft padded boots in his right.
He handed me the boots and smiled.
I smiled back and put the boots on.
Curran held out the Guild’s Manual and Jim’s contract to Barabas. “The Guild is suffering from cash flow problems. The mercs want to raid the pension fund, so they forced a shutdown. The admin staff walked off due to nonpayment and they’ve lost their cleaning crews. I’d like to take it over.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Barabas said, taking the contract and the Manual. “Do you want to muscle in or be more subtle about it?”
“I want to know my options. I wrote a summary in the front. Look at the last provision in Membership Powers and see if you can find me a way in.”
“I’ll have something by tomorrow.”
I couldn’t remember what the hell the last provision in Membership Powers was. I used to know the Manual cover to cover, but it had been a while since I had to pull that knowledge out of my head.
“Don’t forget to bill me,” Curran said. “Exorbitantly.”
Barabas flashed him a quick smile. “I’ll be very generous in my billable hours.”
We walked home through the cold. “You didn’t tell me,” I said.
“It wasn’t my place to tell.”
“I don’t understand why they didn’t tell me either.”
“All of them were part of our inner circle,” Curran said. “They knew exactly how much you wanted to be away from the Keep and the Pack. They wanted to give you space.”