"Because I am the Oracle," the brown-haired man replied, smiling indulgently. "I would have to give that up to become King of Karathia. My warlock's skills were never awakened and I have no desires in that direction. Therefore, my son was named heir. If he hadn't come along, Lissa would have been named Wylend's heir instead."

"You're Mom's father, too." Nissa stared at the man. He didn't look like their mother.

"I am. You may call me Griffin. Most people do."

"Why are you here? Why haven't we met you before?" Tory asked.

"Because Lissa doesn't like for me to come here. She doesn't know I'm here, now. I just wanted to come and set a few things straight, now that Toff has been told why he spent fifteen years of his life with the Green Fae."

"What things are you setting straight? Are you saying Mom didn't tell us the truth?"

"No, your mother has been completely truthful. She just left some things out to protect someone."

"Who is she protecting?" Nissa huffed, crossing arms over her chest and glaring at Griffin. Toff moved to her side and placed an arm around her shoulders.

"Me," Griffin replied.

"But you just said you weren't welcome here—why would she protect you?" Ry demanded.

"Because Lissa knows how to love. Sometimes I think I'm still learning. The Fae didn't mistake the babies—they all wore identification bracelets when Toff was taken. I switched Wyatt's bracelet for Toff's, so they'd take the wrong child. My talent is foresight, that's why they call me the Oracle. I just didn't look far enough to see that Redbird would place the mindbond. I thought Toff would be brought home as soon as Lissa took care of the army and the religious order who were about to attack the Green Fae on Vionn. It was a very large mistake on my part. I came to apologize to Toff for that. I am afraid to apologize to my daughter. It will cause me pain when she throws it back in my face."

"What was she like, growing up? Mom, I mean?" Tory asked shyly.

"I do not know," Griffin answered. "I was kept from her and she was raised by her mother and stepfather. He wasn't a good man. He killed her mother and almost killed my baby." Griffin looked genuinely sad about that.

"Is that what Uncle Gavin was talking about when he said that Mom's turning was more tragic than any other?"

"Her childhood, her turning and even what happened after that—all tragic," Griffin nodded. "She will never tell you, and it is not my tale to tell, either. I know that she used to keep journals, but I do not know if they still exist anywhere. I warn you, if you ask her about any of this, it will only aggravate old wounds and I do not wish to do that. Toff, you have my apologies. You are not obligated to forgive me. All I can say is that if you ever have need, I will do what I can." Griffin rose, nodded to the four children and disappeared.

"Holy cow," Ry used another of his mother's favorite phrases, even if it made no sense at all.

"Does he know about the baby?" Tory breathed.

"Maybe it's better if he doesn't—look what happened to Toff," Ry muttered.

* * *

Nissa was leaning against Toff on Tory's bed as they talked later. They discussed Toff's life with the Green Fae. Rehashed what they knew of the kidnapping, end to end. Went over Griffin's visit, too, sifting through his words and wondering what had happened with their mother.

"At least we know about the whole Grey House thing and how Cloudsong got involved with that," Ry said. He was lying on his stomach making notes in his comp-vid.

"I wish I knew what that woman's name was—the one who Great-Grampa Glendes wanted Daddy to marry," Nissa said.

"We can try to find that out," Ry seemed ready to accept the challenge. "If we can get our hands on those legal records from Cloudsong."

"Do you think she's still out there?" Tory was curious.

"If she was from a wizard family, then there's a good chance of that," Nissa replied. "Most wizards have long life spans, if not nearly immortal ones."

"Yeah. There's that," Ry nodded and made more notes.

Toff put his arms around Nissa and watched as Ry tapped away on his comp-vid.

"What do you think happened to Gren?" Nissa brought up the subject they'd avoided all night.

"I overheard Kifirin say that he had help to escape." Tory had sneaked a slice of cake and a glass of milk from the kitchen. He was eating and trying to keep crumbs off his coverlet at the same time.

"Do you think he's still on Le-Ath Veronis?" Ry glanced at his brother.

"No—if he were, I think Kifirin would have hauled him right back to the dungeons. Did you hear what Mom said? Kifirin and Thurlow are minor gods? I didn't even know they existed. Now I know why I always felt uncomfortable around Kifirin."

"How did they get involved with Mom? People just don't end up with gods for mates." Nissa relaxed against Toff. Toff played with her hair.

"Don't know," Tory mumbled around a mouthful of cake.

"I'm not about to ask," Ry shivered at the thought.

"But Griffin said Mom used to keep journals. Do you think those are around here somewhere?" Nissa asked.

"If they are, they're locked up. Can you imagine if those journalists got hold of something like that?" Toff blinked in surprise at Tory's words. He'd been recently initiated into the world of newsfeeds and vid-screens. He had no idea how things could turn out if sensitive information fell into the wrong hands.

"Toff, there are always unscrupulous reporters out there who can take even the most innocent material and make someone look like a criminal instead of who they really are," Nissa twisted in his arms to look up at his face. "Even we don't know the circumstances around Mom's turning. We don't need a stranger getting that information and then manipulating it for their own gain."

"They would lie?"

"Toff, there are universes of liars everywhere," Ry sniffed. "Thank goodness Tory can tell the liars from the ones who tell the truth." Ry smacked his taller sibling on the arm, knocking the half-eaten plate of cake onto the bed.

"Here we go," Nissa muttered, sliding out of Toff's lap and pulling him off the bed with her as her two brothers went after one another. Toff watched in alarm until he discovered they weren't really hurting each other. Then he started chuckling.

* * *

"Where are we?" Gren turned in a circle, his head craning back as he stared up at the high walls of an abandoned stone building. He stood in the basement, but the floors overhead and everything else had been stripped away, leaving a gutted shell behind. Fire had claimed it at one time, and anything left of value had been taken afterward until only the stone walls and a tile roof remained.

"On Mazareal. Know where that is, boy?" Zellar flung the insult at Gren. Gren stared at Zellar's face. Half of it was scarred and wrinkled from severe burns, the skin thin and red. One eye—the left one—was puckered and closed forever. Gren knew Zellar to be nothing more than an angry and vengeful warlock now, but that didn't keep him from worshipping at Zellar's altar. Zellar had knowledge and abilities that Gren longed for. Power that Gren hoped to obtain. Zellar would show him those things if Gren followed Zellar's instructions.

The other—well, Gren knew to stay away from that one. He appeared benign until he struck, becoming a monster that Gren could not have imagined in his worst dreamings. He devoured people in his other form—swallowing them whole, even while they screamed. Gren had no desire to disappear down that wide and scaly throat. Zellar called him Tandias and even he was wary around him. Tandias held power that neither Zellar nor Gren could ever understand or suspect. Zellar had made a deal with a devil even he failed to see clearly.

"No need to go outside, boy," Zellar went on. "There's nothing left on Mazareal. If we eat, we'll travel away from here to do it. This is a safe place to sleep and nothing more. Get used to being wanted by the ASD." Zellar's laugh sounded unhinged, but Gren didn't care as long as his ambitions were eventually satisfied.

* * *

"This is fun." Toff enjoyed operating the label machine. All he had to do was set the bottles on a conveyor belt wide enough to hold them and they were moved along automatically until they were spun around, coming out with a label beyond that point. Another two comesuli were taking the labeled bottles off and stacking then onto racks. Some would be packed for shipping, others would be hauled to the local casinos—it was a specialty to get oxberry wine at their best restaurants.

"Each bottle sells for six hundred Alliance credits here on Le-Ath Veronis," Roff smiled at Toff as he watched Toff operate the machine. "If it ships off-world, it sells for a thousand Alliance credits or more, depending on the year it was pressed."

"Is that a lot?" Toff still had difficulty wrapping his mind around the concept of wealth.

"Here, let someone else do this for a moment and we will take a trip to a local wine shop," Roff grinned mischievously. Roff motioned for another comesula—he'd been introduced as Dariff—to come over and run the rest of the bottles. Roff and Toff walked away from the bottling and labeling room and out of Roff's winery.

A little while later, Toff stared at racks and racks of wine bottles inside a wine shop in Casino City. All kinds of wines were sold there, holding Toff spellbound as he read label after label, printed in the common language of the Alliance.

"This is a good red," Roff lifted a bottle from an upper shelf and handing it to Toff. Toff read the label. This wine had come from Refizan. "Refizan is famous for its vineyards," Roff explained. "Their wines are among the best in the Alliance. They have good soil and good vintners there. This bottle sells for one hundred Alliance credits."

"Ah, Roff." The proprietor had come from the back as soon as his clerk informed him that the Winged Vampire winemaker was in his shop.