Scene 42 - December 23rd

Interior Mansion, Continuous

Morgan Könberg

“So...” I finally said.

“So?”

“Will you?”

“Will I what?”

I sighed. “You always have to do this.”

“I have no children of my own, allow me some few pleasures of fatherhood with one of the only people I can be so informal with,” Peregrine said with a faint smile.

“You could find a partner easily, if you tried.”

He shook his head. “I have no time. And yes,” he held up a hand to forestall protests, “I know, I could rework my schedule, but I’m not going to. Besides, not only am I a very public figure - with no secret identity - who therefore must always ask about the motivations of anyone who seeks to become closer to me, I am also as close to immortal as anyone outside of Aegis gets.”

“Aren’t you older than Aegis? And La Borda here in New Venice is probably just as immortal.”

“And is in a committed relationship, on top of being much younger than me.” He shrugged. “The point is, where would I find a woman who could relate to a man two centuries old?”

“Fair point. So?”

He smiled. “Yes, I will help your husband with his Alzheimer’s. I’m certain that its magical resistance will not be able to stop me - particularly if, as I suspect, Mr. Könberg is the patient of a young doctor called Durandel who messaged me some time ago about a man with magic-resistant Alzheimer’s.”

“Thank you,” I said gratefully. “And yes, that would be us.”

He held up a hand. “I’m sure that you remember my limits with such genetic diseases, but I feel the need to warn you in any case. I can clear the buildup of proteins that causes Alzheimer’s, but I cannot cure the underlying cause of the condition - he will, if he lives long enough, face its specter once more. Neither can I ensure that your children do not inherit its risk. In addition, if any of his memories have been permanently lost at this point, I will not be able to restore them.”

“I know,” I assured him, “but the help you can give will still be greatly appreciated. And if Arthur receives another 50-to-60 years of good health before the proteins have built up enough to be a risk, well... that will have been a great blessing.”

Peregrine nodded. “The other warning I must give is that, should Mr. Könberg wear his helm, it will speed the onset of the disease.”

My blood ran cold. “What do you-”

“The helm of his armor, the Mountain King’s armor, the helm that you gave to a young woman that I presume was your daughter when they broke into the local MLED Compound last week,” he calmly said, as though he wasn’t revealing knowledge that could tear my family’s peaceful life apart. “The one that enhances the senses and intellect of its wearer. Oh, do sit down,” he ordered.

I realized that I had leapt to my feet, magical energy filling my lips and tongue unbidden, ready for me to speak curses into existence and smite the man who might threaten my family. I sat, slowly, but didn’t banish the magic that had come to my unconscious call. “You...”

“Don’t act surprised that I knew your husband’s identity, Morgan,” Peregrine said. “I did mention that we had met, and when else would I have bumped into the man? It’s not as though I made it to your commitment ceremony.”

“Don’t joke,” I hissed at him. “If you knew - have known - why did you never say anything?”

“He’s retired, is he not?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. “Since he met me and Jenny. His resolve to stay out of that life only redoubled when we began having children.”

“Why, then, would I care who he once was?” Peregrine asked. “I cannot change the past - and if I could, it wouldn’t be worth changing the Mountain King. Of all the villains I’ve faced, he was by far the best of a bad lot.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Arthur used to say that about himself as well. I think he took pride in being the least bad option - he once said that if the heroes really wanted to remove him from New Venice, they could have, but they were afraid of who would replace him.”

“The city hasn’t done too badly,” he observed.

I shrugged. “With him having just vanished rather than being captured or killed, we think people assumed he was still around, ready to step in if anyone broke his rules. That culture of keeping things safe for civilians, and not all that bad for heroes, either, seems to have stuck around to this day - for the most part, at least.” I scowled. “The Buff Boys don’t hold to it, and neither do out-of-towners like...” I trailed off, realizing that I didn’t know what Peregrine thought of the Ambrosia Company. I was certain that he knew of them, but... his Abelish views lead him to think that they did more good than bad.

“Like Legion?”

“Yes.”

“Then what were you thinking,” he asked, “sending your family - your children - out into that?”

“What was I thinking? I was thinking that I was making the best of a bad situation,” I snapped. “I was thinking that Legion isn’t in the city anymore, and that no one would know who we were. I was thinking that we would be safe under our wards, and that you wouldn’t waltz right in and pull the rug out from under me! I was thinking that there are people after us, Peregrine, and I don’t know how deep their tendrils go, and I can’t ask for help because I can’t trust anyone!”

By this point I was on my feet again, magic swirling around me in the heat of my anger, and Peregrine was standing as well - his magic arrayed defensively around him, but still ready for combat. He seemed surprised, and began, “Morgan-”

“You don’t know what kind of shit we’re fighting against,” I hissed at the other magician. “You don’t know what we’re risking. So don’t you dare judge me.”

“Morgan, please -”

I turned away from him, stalking out of the room. “You should go.”

“I... please, let me -”

“Go.”

He went.