July: Since when do blood mages have to be scary?

July realized quickly that, despite his own seemingly inexhaustible supply of energy and enthusiasm, there was no way he could keep up with Aries. The kid didn't just have endless energy-- and not of the bouncing-off-the-walls type, either-- he had such a short span of patience that he wasn't happy unless he had his claws busy doing something. At least, with such a full house, there was plenty for him to dabble those claws in when July ran out of patience with him, himself. When he wasn't learning magic from July, he was pestering Zabeth for some bit of knowledge, following poor Faamaal and nagging her for a chore or lesson, feverishly finishing his homework from the Star City school he went to in the afternoons with the other younglings, trying to talk Se'muan into teaching him how to cook, herding Kuriri, Kolora, and the new gryphonish addition to the family, Mahaleth, around on their chores or to the bath or dinner, or--

--gods, it was like the kid never slowed down and rested! When he finally gave in and collapsed for the day, he slept like a rock, snored tremendously, and woke all energetic again. That kind of dedication had to have come from Senyen; July most certainly didn't have it. He preferred having at least a little time to just be lazy, hang out with his friends, and zone in front of the holo!

On the whole, though he loved the brat, he didn't really have any idea what to do with him. He'd gotten the kind of kid who would scold him for his own lack of maturity, be serious even in play-- like he took it as some kind of training, or at best a distraction from his everlasting impatience-- and probably still wind up in trouble. He was headstrong, easily frustrated, and, gods forbid, selfish. How in the world had he managed to produce someone who cared so little about other people?

It was partly that confusion that led July to start wondering about his other offspring. What they were growing up like, whether they were at all like him, whether they were happy.... He would have wondered, anyway, but most of them had gone off to what he expected would be good homes. He had done a little magic of his own to see what the people were like who the kids had chosen, and though they weren't exactly good people, all of them, they would probably at least look after their bonds. He thought. He hoped! Seeing the future wasn't what he was best at.

But he knew better than to expect everyone's bonds and guardians to be all sweetness and light. That ship was creepy, and it attracted creepy people. The fact that he and Zabeth and Kikira had flown there had been more chance than anything else, they hadn't been attracted to the place so much as the opportunity.

Well, all right, July had been curious about the place. More, he'd just wanted out, and wanted to give Ielta a chance to go someplace new, so he'd contrived actually flying-- not having had any real expectation of winning. So maybe he hadn't gone for the opportunity. But he still wasn't all that attached to that ship. Really, he intended to never go back if he could help it.

But there had been four of the hatchlings who hadn't chosen anybody. Hadn't the lab-witch people rounded them up for some purpose? Did they have bonds or caretakers for them elsewhere? Every time July tried to look for them with what divination his blood magic gave to him, peering into bowls of the stuff that turned reflective when he told it to seek out certain things, he got nothing. No peep, no glimpse, no nothing. It was, to say the least, frustrating, and a little worrying.

Aries, when given the task himself as part of his magical education, fared no better. He got even more frustrated with it, unaccustomed to not having something he could fight his way to success with. July actually regretted even suggesting it to him, because he got to angry with himself and the spell.

"And hey, little man," July warned him as he called that lesson over, "spilling more blood ain't gonna make it work better. So don't even think about it, or I'll knock you into the wall and bind you up so you can't cut anybody."

Since Aries showed an alarming preference for using other people's blood when he could get it, he figured the warning was necessary. He could do it, too, and Aries knew it, so the threat was a good one. Aries hated bindings of any kind, because they limited him in what he could do.

It looked like they needed bigger guns. So July went to Zabeth.

And he was not happy with what Zabeth told him, at all.

"Purge," Zabeth said, a little frown pulling at the more mobile corners of his beak-- the bird was fully male again, burning blue rather than orange and with a slightly deeper voice-- as he looked down at the mirror-like surface of the magic he'd called up. July couldn't see anything on it, but then, he didn't have a good angle for viewing, and he was so much bigger than Zabeth was.

"What do you mean, 'purge'?" July asked. He didn't like the sound of that, at all.

"When the Twisted Fate has extra children, or extra makings that they do not opt to keep aboard," Zabeth answered slowly, not looking up from whatever it was he saw, "they purge them."

This was sounding worse by the minute. "Purge?" July repeated again, in a squeak. "What does that mean? They don't-- kill them, do they?"

"No, they...." Zabeth snapped his beak unhappily. "Release them. Drop them off on various planet, record their doings for a while if they survive, and then forget about them."

"No way!" July exclaimed. "You're kidding, right? Right?"

"I'm afraid not," Zabeth told him, looking up at last and banishing the magic. "And I cannot get clear pictures of any of them."

"That's-- that's horrible!" July cried. "My kids-- they just abandoned them??"

"That is how it seems," Zabeth said, sounding apologetic. "I do not think any of them are dead--"

"Don't even say they!" July interrupted, feeling a little panicked. His kids-- even though they hadn't wanted to come home with him, they were still his!-- all alone on strange worlds, left to fend for themselves! "They wouldn't be! They couldn't be!"

The look Zabeth gave him was a little sad, but he didn't contradict him. "I wish I could tell you more."

"I've got to-- I've got to find them," July said, looking around, trying to get his bearings in an apartment that seemed suddenly all wrong. "Zabeth, if you can tell me anything-- a direction, a planet, a galaxy--"

"July, you have a son here," Zabeth reminded him. "Are you going to leave him to go seeking the others?"

"What?" It took him a minute to pull his thoughts out of furious planning on how to hitch rides, how to pay for travel or make do without lodging, and focus on what Zabeth was saying. "Oh, Aries? He can come, too. He'll probably like the adventure of it."

Zabeth looked doubtful. "Why don't you ask him first?" he suggested.

"You think? Well, all right. Can you get me some kind of direction?"

Sighing, Zabeth nodded. "I will see what I can do."

"You're the best," July told him fervently, then bounded out to start packing and collect Aries.

And to break it to Ielta that he was leaving. Damn, that wouldn't be fun. But this was more important. She'd understand. He couldn't just leave his kids out there alone to die. He'd never forgive himself.