Page 22

Story: Kollaborator King

He gave a nod without lifting his head. “I’m six years old and forty-five days. In four hours and thirty-two minutes, I will be fully grown.”

His knowledge stunned them while his voice stirred something in Krave. It didn’t sound like Josie, but he spoke like her. “He speaks…”

“Like his mother,” Reuban said, in the same awe. “He’s learned her cadence, her enunciation. Every syllable is sculpted with her precise measure from his conception. She talked a lot to him.”

Hunger stabbed him in the chest at the memory of the adorable little motor-mouth human trait.

“Remarkable,” Kildare said in awe.

The boy informed them with mild interest in his voice, “I am learning many things.”

“What are you learning?” Kildare asked.

“Measurements.”

His small mouth formed the word with precision and Krave noticed the curvature on his upper lip was identical to Josie.

Something in his wind and blood beckoned him a step closer. “And what are you measuring?” Krave asked, his tone softened by wonder while captivated with his lips.

“I’m measuring if I’m worth the blood they have spent to make me.”

The words were a sword in his chest as he watched him squirm out of Reuban’s arms and walk up to him, angling his head up. “You are measuring like me.”

Krave was still stumped by his first statement while realizing there was something he knew intimately in the child.He lowered to his knees, getting eye level with him. “What am I measuring?”

He lowered his eyes to his chest then brought them back up. “The pain you’ll require yourself to suffer to deserve Mother’s love.”

A chill passed through Krave’s winds as he stared at him. Even without contemplating it, he knew his observation was perfectly accurate. Then it hit him. He smelled her blood in him. The sudden craving for it sent him leaning back, right as the boy raised his wrist to him.

“You can have some if you want,” he offered, his perfect articulation wrinkled by the newness of performing speech.

Krave’s heart squeezed as he realized what stood before him. Not just a new being, but a part of him, a part of her. Of them.

He leaned back toward him, closer to his pure, curious gaze. “What else are you measuring, Little King?” he asked softly, his fingers reaching up and touching the strand of long hair next to his perfect little face.

“My power and authority,” he said, his voice breaking a little on the words. Krave marveled over what he’d said. He wanted to look at Reuban to see what he thought of them, but he was too busy realizing he was growing from a baby into a man and Josie was missing it.

“Your mother loves you very much,” Krave said quietly, daring to stroke the skin along his face as he nodded with knowing.

“She gave her blood for me,” he murmured. “And Father too.” He lowered his gaze, his tone changing when he spoke about Kaos. Like he knew that one gave blood to save him, and the other to kill him.

Krave realized how the boy... his son... felt about that, and it punched the breath from his lungs. “Your Father had no ideaabout you,” Krave swore softly, his winds blowing gently over his words. “And if he had known, I promise you with all the divine blood in my body that he would tear a million galaxies apart to protect you.”

Kildare slowly knelt next to him now too. “Do you see this?” he asked, holding his finger up.

The boy watched, his eyes almost crossing in earnest as he studied the mesmerizing fire leaping and dancing from Kildare’s fingertip. “This is Sir Harold. And he told me that you have a friend he wants to meet very soon.”

The boy’s brows tugged together, his eyes suddenly swirling with green and red as they locked on Kildare in wonder. “Sir Harold knows Mother,” he marveled. “And loves her very much.” He slowly reached up and put his hand on Kildare’s face. “As much as you do.” He kept his hand on him, his little fingers twitching before they lowered. “What friend does Sir Harold mean?”

Kildare smiled slowly. “He says he’s sleeping in your bones. And will wake up soon.”

The boy’s gaze remained fixed on Kildare, as if still processing. Then his chest jerked with a sharp breath, his perfect mouth opening with his widened eyes. “I feel it! I feel it right where you said.” He jerked his gaze up to Reuban. “He’s in my bones!”

Reuban chuckled then knelt next to the boy, the sudden concern in his face bringing a tension Krave didn’t like. “What other things are you measuring, Little King?”

His chin slowly lowered till it touched his chest. “Distance... depth... weight and time.”

They all exchanged brief looks, Reuban’s expression strained with something close to fear. “Do you know why you’re measuring those things?” he carefully asked.