Chapter 157. Second Mission

"Take me with you!" Bennu announced before Adom had even finished with his left shoe.

Adom paused, lace halfway through the eyelet. "No."

"But I could be very helpful," Bennu pressed, perched on the windowsill with his tail feathers spread for maximum dramatic effect. "I can fly, I'm fireproof, and I have excellent eyesight."

"Still no." Adom moved to his right shoe.

Ada burst through the door like a small tornado, still in her nightgown with her hair sticking up in every direction. "What are we talking about?"

"Adom's new mission," Bennu explained. "I was just listing all the reasons he should bring me along."

Ada's eyes went wide. "You're going on another mission? Can I come? Can I come? Can I come?"

"No," Adom said, finishing his laces and standing up.

"Why not?" Ada demanded, bouncing on her toes.

"Because you're five."

"So? I'm very mature for my age!"

"You tried to brush your teeth with jam yesterday."

"That was an experiment!"

Bennu tilted his head thoughtfully. "Actually, Ada makes an excellent point about being mature. And I'm technically older than all of you combined, so—"

"Age doesn't work that way for phoenixes," Adom interrupted, reaching for his travel pack. "And the answer is still no."

They followed him out of his room in a determined parade. Ada had to take three steps for every one of his, but she kept up through sheer stubborn enthusiasm.

"What if we promised to be really, really good?" she asked.

"No."

"What if we promised to be quiet?"

"No."

"What if we promised to only talk when absolutely necessary for mission success?"

Adom glanced at Bennu. "You've been coaching her."

"I may have provided some strategic guidance," Bennu admitted.

They reached the bathroom door. Adom put his hand on the handle and looked back at his persistent shadows.

"This is where I draw the line," he said.

"We could wait right here," Ada suggested brightly. "Like guards!"

"Silent guards," Bennu added. "Protecting the perimeter."

Adom studied them both. Ada was practically vibrating with excitement, and Bennu's golden eyes held the kind of hopeful determination that suggested this conversation was far from over.

"Right," he said, and closed the door.

Their voices came through immediately.

"Do you think he's weakening?" Ada whispered.

"Difficult to assess," Bennu replied in what he probably thought was a whisper but was actually perfectly audible. "Human resolve can be quite variable."

"What's resolve?"

"Stubbornness, but fancier."

"Oh. Adom has lots of that."

When Adom emerged, they were exactly where he'd left them, though Ada had apparently used the time to attempt some kind of elaborate hairstyle that made her look like she'd been electrocuted.

"Ready for phase two of negotiations," she announced.

"There is no phase two," Adom said, walking toward the next bathroom.

"There's always a phase two," Ada replied with the confidence of someone who had clearly been talking to Bennu too much.

"That's very wise," Bennu said approvingly. "Persistence is key to successful diplomacy."

"What's diplomacy?"

"Asking for things in a fancy way until people say yes."

Adom paused at the next bathroom door. "That's not what diplomacy means."

"Close enough," Bennu said cheerfully.

"This conversation isn't happening in here either," Adom said firmly.

"We'll be very patient," Ada promised.

"Exceptionally patient," Bennu agreed.

The door closed. More whispering commenced.

"Maybe we should try being sad instead of excited," Ada suggested.

"An interesting tactical shift," Bennu mused. "Emotional manipulation rather than logical argument."

"What's that mean?"

"Making puppy dog eyes until he feels bad and changes his mind."

"Ooh, I'm good at that!"

"I noticed. Your facial expressions are quite expressive."

Adom brushed his teeth to the sound of them planning their next approach. When he opened the door, mouth still foamy, they both deployed identical devastatingly cute expressions.

"Still no," he said through the toothpaste foam.

Ada's bottom lip trembled. "But we'll miss you so much."

"We'll be terribly lonely," Bennu added, somehow managing to make his golden eyes look watery.

Adom spat into the sink and rinsed his mouth. "You'll survive."

"Will we though?" Ada asked dramatically, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead like she was about to faint. "Will we really?"

"You've been teaching her theater too," Adom observed.

"She has natural talent," Bennu replied proudly.

They followed him to the kitchen, where he sat down with a bowl of porridge and some fruit. Ada climbed into the chair across from him and propped her chin on her hands.

"I've been thinking," she announced.

"That's usually dangerous," Adom said, taking a spoonful of porridge.

"What if the mission is really dangerous and you need backup?"

"I'll have Zuni."

"But what if Zuni gets hurt and you need different backup?"

"Then I'll be very careful not to let Zuni get hurt."

Bennu landed delicately on the table next to Adom's bowl. "She raises a valid point about redundancy in safety measures."

"She raises a five-year-old point about wanting to go on an adventure."

"Those aren't mutually exclusive," Ada said, then paused. "What does that mean?"

"It means you can want an adventure and also make good points," Bennu explained.

"Oh! Then I'm definitely right!"

Adom continued eating, unmoved by their logic. Ada swung her legs under the table, thinking hard.

"What if we disguised ourselves?" she asked suddenly.

"As what?"

"I could be a really short adult!"

"You're three feet tall, Ada."

"A really, really short adult!"

"No."

"What about me?" Bennu asked. "I could pretend to be a regular bird."

"You're bright blue and you talk."

"I could not talk. And blue birds exist."

"Not ones that glow slightly and have four wings."

"Minor details," Bennu said dismissively.

Ada gasped suddenly, nearly falling off her chair with excitement. "What if we followed you secretly?"

"Absolutely not."

"But if we were really sneaky—"

"Ada." Adom's voice carried just enough warning to make her pause. "If you try to follow me, I'll ask Mother to make you help with the laundry all day instead of playing outside."

Her eyes went wide with horror. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"That's cruel and unusual punishment," she protested.

"Where did you learn that phrase?"

"Bennu taught me! He knows lots of fancy words! Just like Zuni!"

"I've had extensive time to study human language," Bennu said proudly. "Ten thousand years provides excellent opportunities for vocabulary expansion."

"Well use your vocabulary to explain to Ada why following me would be a terrible idea."

Bennu considered this seriously. "Well, Ada, missions can be quite dangerous. There might be bad people who wouldn't hesitate to hurt small children or phoenixes. And Adom would be distracted worrying about our safety instead of focusing on his important work."

Ada's face scrunched up thoughtfully. "So we'd make him worse at his job?"

"Significantly worse," Bennu confirmed.

"Oh." Ada looked genuinely disappointed now. "I don't want to make Adom bad at things."

"See?" Adom said. "Bennu understands."

"However," Bennu continued, and Adom's spoon paused halfway to his mouth, "that doesn't mean we can't continue advocating for future inclusion in less dangerous missions."

"What's advocating?" Ada asked.

"Asking nicely but with more words."

"Ooh, I like that better than begging."

"It's essentially the same thing," Adom pointed out.

"But fancier," Ada said happily.

At that moment, Maria appeared from the kitchen with a cup of tea, taking in the scene with the weary expression of someone who'd been listening to this entire negotiation.

"Alright, you two," she said, settling into her chair. "Stop harassing your brother. Let the man eat his breakfast in peace."

Ada deflated slightly. "But we have so many good reasons—"

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Why don't you go show Bennu your new dollhouse? I bet he's never seen one before."

Bennu perked up with genuine interest. "I haven't, actually. What's a dollhouse?"

"It's like a real house but tiny!" Ada explained, instantly distracted from her mission lobbying. "With tiny furniture and tiny people and tiny plates!"

"Fascinating. The attention to detail in human recreations is quite remarkable."

Ada grabbed Bennu gently and headed for the door, chattering about miniature tea sets and furniture that actually opened and closed. Their voices faded as they disappeared into the living room.

Maria waited until they were gone, then turned back to Adom with a smile that was equal parts affection and amusement.

"Those two are going to be trouble," she said.

"They already are trouble."

She reached across the table and brushed her thumb along his jawline, where a few dark hairs had started to appear. "Look at this. My little boy's growing a beard."

Adom grinned and leaned into her touch. "It's hardly a beard."

"Give it time. You're starting to look more and more like your grandfath—" She stopped abruptly, her hand freezing against his cheek.

The moment stretched between them. Adom didn't ask. He'd learned years ago not to ask about her family, about the people she'd left behind when she married his father. It was one of the unspoken rules of their house, even though she sometimes slipped and mentioned fragments before catching herself.

Maria pulled her hand back and picked up her tea, the casual gesture not quite hiding the tension in her shoulders.

"Anyway," she said, voice carefully light again. "You're growing up too fast."

"Sorry about that."

"Don't apologize for things you can't control." She stood and moved to the window, looking out at the garden where morning sunlight was just starting to touch the herb beds. "Your father went hunting in one of the smaller dungeons yesterday evening. He should be back later today."

"I figured he'd gone somewhere when I didn't see him last night."

"You two had plenty of time to catch up anyway. How many hours did you spend in his workshop, three? Four?"

"Something like that." Adom finished the last of his porridge. "I'll see him when I get back."

Maria turned from the window, and the worry that had been lurking beneath her casual tone finally showed on her face. "Be careful out there, Adom. I know you can't tell me what this mission is about, but the Archmage wouldn't send you personally unless it was important."

"I'll be fine, Mom. I promise."

She nodded, seemingly satisfied, though her fingers were still wrapped tightly around her tea cup. Adom wished he could tell her more, could explain that he wasn't heading into immediate danger. But this mission was too complicated, too politically sensitive.

Finding Morgana was treason, technically.

At least until they could prove she was a victim rather than a conspirator. His father had been a knight before retirement, and those vows didn't just disappear. Arthur was honor-bound to report threats to the crown, and asking him to ignore that duty without proof would put him in an impossible position.

Better to bring Morgana back first. Let her tell her own story. Then maybe his father could understand, could even help rally the Iron Wolves to their cause.

And telling his mother was out of the question entirely. Not because she'd betray them, but because she couldn't keep secrets from Arthur. She tried, but after 24 years of marriage, he could read her like a book. The moment she started acting strange, he'd know something was wrong.

"Thank you for breakfast," Adom said, standing and carrying his bowl to the kitchen.

"Of course, sweetheart."

He paused in the doorway. "Zuni? You ready?"

A sleepy voice echoed in Adom's head. Coming, Adom. Give me a moment to achieve full consciousness.

A few minutes later, Zuni appeared at the top of the stairs. He descended slowly, pausing every few steps to yawn.

Ada and Bennu emerged from the living room at the sound of footsteps.

"Finally!" Ada announced. "We've been waiting forever!"

"It's been approximately seven minutes," Bennu corrected.

"That's forever when you're excited."

Zuni reached the bottom of the stairs and blinked slowly at the assembled group. Ready when you are, he said, though his voice carried the unmistakable tone of someone who would much rather go back to bed.

"See?" Ada pointed accusingly at Zuni. "He doesn't even want to go! He's old and tired and would probably rather stay home and nap!"

"Whereas we're young and energetic and definitely wouldn't slow you down," Bennu added.

Zuni's quills rustled with what might have been amusement. I may be old, young ones, but I've also survived long enough to develop what humans call 'good judgment.' This mysterious quality prevents me from volunteering for dangerous adventures.

"But don't you want to see new places?" Ada asked. "Don't you want excitement?"

I've had quite enough excitement for several lifetimes, thank you. These days I prefer the simple pleasures of warm sunbeams and regular meals.

"That's so boring," Ada said.

Boring is safe, Zuni replied sagely. Safe is comfortable. Comfortable is highly underrated.

Adom reached down and scooped Zuni up, settling him on his shoulder. "Ready, old man?"

As ready as one can be for whatever madness you've planned this time.

Adom checked his inventory one more time, verifying that his travel pack was properly stored along with the other supplies he'd need. Everything was in order.

"Alright," he said, turning toward the door. "We should go."

"Have a safe trip!" Ada called out, though she still looked disappointed about being left behind.

"Try not to get eaten by anything with too many teeth," Bennu added cheerfully.

"I'll do my best," Adom replied, and headed for the door.

The streets of Arkhos were quiet in the early morning light, most of the city still wrapped in sleep. Adom's footsteps echoed softly against the cobblestones as they made their way toward the harbor, the air cool and fresh with the promise of a new day.

Why didn't you bring Bennu? Zuni asked from his perch on Adom's shoulder.

"He's still learning how to shapeshift," Adom replied quietly. "Biggins told me not to take him anywhere public until he can pass for a normal bird. A talking phoenix tends to attract attention."

Ah, Zuni said thoughtfully. And you'd prefer to avoid attention on this particular venture.

"Something like that."

Makes sense. Zuni shifted to get more comfortable. Though I do wonder why you need me along if discretion is the goal. I'm hardly inconspicuous myself.

Adom smiled. "I like the company."

Zuni's quills rustled with what might have been pleasure. Well then. It has been some time since our last proper journey. Five years, wasn't it? Since the Fae Realm.

"About that, yeah."

This should be a pleasant outing. I've grown quite fond of the sea over the years. The salt air is remarkably good for one's quills.

They reached the harbor as the first fishing boats were beginning to stir, crews preparing for the day's work. The smell of salt and seaweed mixed with the faint aroma of bread from early-opening bakeries.

"Adom!" Sam's voice carried across the dock, and Adom spotted his friend standing near a sleek sailing vessel, flanked by two familiar figures.

Karion waved enthusiastically, his usual grin already in place despite the early hour. "Look who decided to show up fashionably late!"

"I'm actually early," Adom protested as he approached the group.

"We're earlier," Damus said simply, smiling. The tall, broad-shouldered mage looked perfectly composed despite the hour, as if he'd been awake for hours.

The others were scattered across their own Magisterium obligations.

Gus had been pulled into an emergency consultation that could take days. Naia was handling a delicate trade dispute at the Tirajin embassy. Mia was covering research on an alchemical compound. Emma was literally on a battlefield miles away, as healer.

And Gaius had specifically requested Eren remain for advanced training—something that had left the young mage looking equal parts honored and frustrated.

"Hey Zuni," Sam said slowly, the words careful but clear enough. "Good to see you."

Likewise, Sammenel, Zuni replied, his little smile expending.

They boarded the vessel, greeting the small crew with the easy familiarity of people who'd worked together before. The boat was built for speed rather than comfort, all clean lines and efficient design.

"So," Karion said as they settled on deck, "are you going to tell us what we're actually looking for? Or is this one of those mysterious 'you'll know it when you see it' situations?"

Sam leaned forward with interest, and even Damus turned his attention fully to Adom, waiting for an answer.

The boat began to move, cutting smoothly through the harbor waters toward the open sea. The city fell away behind them, morning sunlight catching on the white buildings and turning the water into a field of scattered diamonds.

That's when they appeared.

Sleek forms in the water, keeping pace with their boat. Sirens, their scaled tails catching flashes of sunlight as they swam alongside, curious about the vessel and its passengers.

"Well," Sam said, watching them with fascination, "that's not something you see every day."

The sirens' song began, wordless and haunting, rising from the water like music made manifest. It wasn't the dangerous lure from old stories, just pure beauty, the kind that made you want to sit still and listen forever.

Karion leaned over the rail, grinning. "Think they're here for the entertainment, or are we the entertainment?"

One of the sirens surfaced closer to the boat, her dark hair streaming behind her as she studied them with intelligent eyes. She sang a few more notes, almost like a greeting, before disappearing beneath the waves again.

Adom watched them for a moment, then turned back to his friends. The wind was picking up, carrying the scent of open ocean and distant islands.

"Listen..." he began.