“Well,” he huffed. “None of you have ever been quite so insubordinate, especially not when you’ve just injured one of our own.”
My ears were burning. I sighed. He was right.
“Sit,” he ordered, thrusting a finger at his ornate stone desk. I took my place in the plush chair across his own, crossing my hands in my lap. Maybe a little bit of humility would help my case.
Carver sat down, his posture ramrod straight, even when Banjo leapt into his lap and stayed there, curling up into a furry little croissant.
“Mr. Graves,” Carver said, his voice suspiciously calm. “You know that I only harangue you out of concern, both for you and your coworkers.”
I coughed quietly. “I’d like to politely state that I’m a long way past seeing Sterling and the guys as coworkers. They’re my friends. Don’t tell them this, but – I see them as family.”
That didn’t work, somehow. Carver’s stony expression didn’t soften. “I am glad to hear,” he said, not looking very glad at all. “But every incident of this sort has been a result of negligence, whether in terms of judgment or self-control. When you broke Amaterasu’s mirror – ”
“No,” I said, lifting a finger, automatically slipping into defensive mode. “I said it then, and I’ll say it again. I needed to do that to defuse the situation. I didn’t intend to hurt Sterling in the process, but you remember how that ended. We got what we wanted. We escaped the Lorica and got away with Asher scot-free.”
Carver narrowed his eyes. He knew I was right. Measured risks had to be taken sometimes – but I knew he was right, too. This whole thing with cutting Mason open had everything to do with my lack of discipline, of mastery.
“My point is that you should refrain from doing the things that lead to a loss of control for you in the first place,” Carver said, as if picking up on my thoughts.
“So you’re saying I should tamp down my emotions? Anger is normal, isn’t it? The thing is, I don’t know when something’s going to set me off. Or worse, set the Dark Room off.”
“Then the solution is to limit your use of it, at least in the ways that would allow the shadows to enter our reality. Shadowstepping is permissible. In that instance, you are passing through the Dark Room; the Dark Room does not pass through you. As for summoning its blades into this plane, whether to attack with fields of sharpened darkness, or even as a single sword, this – Nightmare, did you call it?”
I nodded. “I think,” I started to say, meekly. “I think that warriors should get to name their swords.”
Carver rolled his eyes. “If you say so. Naming the thing gives it power, Mr. Graves, which means that you must take extra care with it. But for now? No meadows of black grass. No Nightmares. Not until such time that you understand that you must tame both the flux of the shadows as well as your emotions. It seems to me that these two things are tied together. It pains me to see that your powers have grown, but in only the worst ways possible. If only you could exert complete control over them.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know that complete control was ever an option, if I’m honest.”
Carver sighed. “That is fair. Again, keep in mind to limit your use of the Dark.” He gestured at my throat. “Let the amulet you enchanted be your guide. Let it be a reminder of where your heart and your spirit stand.”
I touched my garnet necklace – the one that belonged to Diana Graves, the best memento I had of my mother. Whatever enchantment it was meant to contain had long since dissipated, but at times it had exerted its power over me, reining back my anger, reminding me, exactly as Carver said, of who and what I was.
“I’ll try,” I said. “I’ll try harder. I promise.”
“I believe you. And be creative, Mr. Graves. You still have access to fire magic, after all. In fact, I’m convinced that proximity to Mr. Igarashi has made you more skilled in its use.”
I nodded. “
That’s true, actually.”
Seriously, I don’t know how Carver said the next thing with a straight face, but he was a powerful, centuries-old sorcerer, and I wasn’t. “I am convinced that proximity to Mr. Igarashi has, shall we say, benefited you in very many ways.”
I blushed instantly. “Okay,” I said. “Meeting’s over.”
“Ah, not just yet. There are two more things we must discuss. First: the Great Beasts, you say? Meeting them, as suggested by Loki.”
“By a trickster god, no less,” I said, nodding. “And let’s be real, some of the most prominent Great Beasts are his children. Fenrir, the wolf, and Jormungand, the world serpent. A little strange that he’s trying to make it like he’s being all generous with his contacts when he’s really just pushing me to work with his kids.” I shook my head. “Nepotism at its finest.”
“The relationship is intriguing, and something I hadn’t considered. Good point. And lest we forget, many of these same beasts are the catalysts of the apocalypse in their respective cultures. I will, however, say one thing: just like the strange powers of the Dark Room, the Great Beasts themselves may well be a double-edged blade.” Carver looked down at his lap. “Perhaps we even have a special emissary we can send on this particular mission. To help coerce the Beasts.”
Banjo dozed, unaware of his importance, his ear flicking each time Carver’s hand ran across it.
“If you say so,” I said, my mind already grinding through the oddness of taking a head-exploding corgi to see actual, literal big dogs the likes of ?Cerberus and Fenrir.
“It cannot truly hurt to pay these creatures a courtesy visit,” Carver said. “The Great Beasts possess tremendous stores of power. This may yet be to our benefit.”
“Unless they eat me and I die,” I pointed out.