A Change of Heart

Afternoon and Evening of Tuesday March 9, 1490

On the other side of Astera's ward circle, Thanos leaned on his walking stick, contemplating a line of ants that marched along the side of the dirt path. He didn't even look up at our approach.

"Thanos bani...?" Deliberately Ynez let her voice trail off, the omission of his House a pointed impugnment of his trustworthiness.

"Solificati will do," he replied calmly, straightening at last and smiling politely at all of us. I didn't relax one bit. Letting my guard down around Thanos was only marginally safer than strolling into the Hearth and inviting Hestia out for a barbecue.

Flatly, Ynez pointed out, "But you're not Solificati. You said so yourself."

"I was, actually, a very long time ago. I was Criamoni too, once." He stared at her challengingly as he spoke, as if daring her to deny his membership. Seriously — what Criamoni Primus or Prima had had the poor taste to admit him into our House?

Sidestepping his claim to brotherhood, Ynez announced instead, "We have conferred and decided to permit you to examine the outer caves."

Thanos considered her expression, then scrutinized each of the rest of us in turn, his gaze pausing appreciatively on the iridescent Komodo dragon. His air of detachment evaporating, he said sharply, "You have conferred with her. I knew you'd be unable to resist your curiosity. What did she tell you?"

That other practitioner of Ars Temporis attempted to sneak up behind him. Breezily, Ghallim replied, "She told us many things, many many things."

As if he'd expected Ghallim's arrival and answer all along, Thanos shifted his stance slightly so he could see all of us at the same time (but so he was facing Tel squarely) and nodded a greeting to his niece's erstwhile priest. "And what do you believe?" he asked Ynez neutrally.

"Ah, belief! Zat eez such a tricky subject! Eet eez so difficult to pin down ze nature of true belief, as I am certain you know, but I 'ave tried, and I can tell you — "

Cutting off Ghallim's theological digression, Ynez (who was picking up an air of command remarkably fast) replied concisely, "I believe that the present situation is untenable — but your proposed solution lacks mercy."

Thanos actually allowed himself a mirthless chuckle, a sound like footfalls behind a solitary traveller on a dark night, and I had to fight the urge to duck behind Tel. "You're seeking mercy for one of my siblings. You do realize that they cannot be slain? If they stay — if they are permitted to stay — they cause this." And he swept his arm out in a grand gesture across the orphanage and the city, indicating the sickly orange stones of the failing Aegis, the frantic activity at the Acropolis and Tower of the Winds, the rising panic among the Sleepers.

Narrowing her eyes, Ynez pressed her lips together and then observed suspiciously, "You're implying that one of them caused the Plague."

To our surprise, he shrugged. "I'm not sure, but they certainly create many problems, as the historian knows." And he nodded at me — or, rather, at Cly. "The Plague may very well be one of them."

I had a wild fantasy of Thanos cooperating happily with all of us and obviating the need for the mice's plot. Lil believed it was doomed anyway, and not even Gordon, its general if not its architect, acted confident that it would work — and overall, assaulting the lord of the dead seemed like a terrible idea, if only because all mortals served him in the end. I, for one, didn't want to spend eternity with a justly vengeful Hades. It really didn't bode well for a peaceful afterlife. Cautiously, I asked, "Why are you trying to set things right?"

Thanos' reply was simple: "Because none of the others are." Which sounded positively philanthropic.

"He's worried," Ynez whispered to us.