Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
The peace at his border with Aegaeon had held in the decades since the two had almost come to war, but there’d been no change in their relationship—she’d half expected Aegaeon to rage again, but whatever it was that Caliane had said to him, it seemed to have stuck.
“Let’s see how long he can behave,” Illium had muttered to her while eating miniature berries off an equally miniature plant she had in her greenhouse. “I might have a drink with him if he manages half a millennium without a temper tantrum.”
She spotted Montgomery along the outside of the house as she came in, his form as straight and crisp as always and his attention on a small pad on which he was making notes as he walked the perimeter.
Doing a repair audit, Elena thought.
He glanced in her direction as if he’d sensed her presence, smiled.
Landing a few feet from him, she said, “What’s the verdict? Any danger of it falling down around our ears?”
“Not just yet,” he said. “But I believe one of the vines is having some trouble. Do you have time to view it?”
“Yes, I came to indulge in some plant therapy.” When she glanced up, her attention caught by a subtle sweep of the air above her, it was to see two of the Legion coming to land on the roof—carefully away from the central skylight.
We’re doing plants, she told them, noticing that one of them had red hair.
That was a new change—so far, the Legion had only sported shades of black, brown, and blond.
The answer that came to her was without words but it held interest, and the two padded along the roof as Montgomery showed her the vine that seemed to be dying. Frowning, Elena crouched down to examine the plant, which was five decades old by her reckoning; the Legion came down beside her to peer at it.
“Disease,” she murmured, spotting the telltale marks. “Treatable, I think. It hasn’t gone deep.” She glanced at her Legion companions. “Your thoughts?”
“Disease,” they murmured in sync, and in their voice was the agreement of hundreds. “We have a treatment.”
“Excellent.” That the Legion had turned out to be instinctive scientists when it came to plants was no surprise. “I think we should treat it without delay.”
“We are bringing what is needed,” was the reply, though neither moved. “We will treat it, Ellie.”
“Thank you.” Getting up, she looked at Montgomery—who, for all his many skills, was not a plant person. When Elena had to be away these days, it was the Legion who watched over her plants. Prior to their return, she’d left step-by-step instructions for Montgomery and hoped for the best.
None of her or Raphael’s inner circle or trusted domestic staff had the requisite skills, and they hadn’t wanted to hire a new person who’d be in and out of their home. A stance with which Montgomery was in firm agreement.
“I’ll be in the greenhouse for a bit,” she told the butler now. “Give me a shout if anything else comes up.”
“I will bring in a tray,” Montgomery said. “Sivya made your favorite pastries.” A glance toward the city. “Nix?”
“With my grandfather.” Who would no doubt feed the bottomless pit that was her and Raphael’s son. “But he’ll be home for dinner.”
When she walked toward the greenhouse a few minutes later, it was with the two Legion warriors in shadow. Others would come with the treatment for the vine, she knew, do what needed to be done. Because even as they grew into themselves, they remained one, remained Legion.
A few were trying out names, but they didn’t seem to get the concept or the point. That included the Primary. He understood what they called him as a designation, but the concept of a name seemed to mystify.
“We are Legion,” they’d say when asked their identity. “We are one.”
“That dark red suits you,” she said as they entered the humid warmth of the greenhouse.
The redhead touched his hair. “I…like it,” he said at last, and Elena noticed his eyes had a hint of green to them. “I copied it from Galen.” It seemed a confession.
Elena fought back a grin. “I’m sure he’ll be flattered.” More than likely, he’d be dumbfounded, but then shrug it off. That was their Barbarian.
The other Legion warrior was already using a cleaning cloth to wipe the glass panels of the greenhouse from the inside. Her greenhouse had sparkled from head to toe since their return. At first, she’d thought they believed it a duty and had told them it was fine, that they didn’t need to take on the task—she was happy to maintain the greenhouse though it took her months to do each rotation, then start again.
The Legion had been confused. “But it is…fun,” they’d said. “You told us to have…fun.”
Clearly, they had different ideas of fun, but Elena left them to it from then on. As she did today.