Soothsayer Ch. 15, Pt. 1

Notes: Oh my god, what have I done? What is this madness?!? We're so close to the end, guys, wow. And it's nasty. Never fear, though, we'll get through this.


Title: Soothsayer Chapter 15, Part One.

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“A good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week.” – George S. Patton

“We meet again, Mr. Kelly.”

                “So we do.” I couldn’t make myself smile back at Ólafur, I just didn’t have it in me. “I guess you got pretty much everything you wanted last time though, huh?”

                “Well, you were being recalcitrant, Mr. Kelly,” he replied. Ólafur looked at ease, but just like before I saw the whip-fast capacity for violence inside of him. The last time I’d looked into Papa Egilsson’s eyes, I’d seen him kill, both under the effect of the geas and of his own volition. “I had to make do some way.”

                “Bullshit. You used me to set this up exactly the way you wanted.” I shook my head. “You had this planned from the start. The sacrifice had to be meaningful in order to matter to the landvaettir, and how much more meaningful could it get than your own son?” Now for the part I was really interested in, though. “How did you know to use me, though? Why bother, when you didn’t really need my talent for anything?”

    

Soothsayer Ch. 14, Pt. 2

Notes: Not quite explosive yet, but we finally meet the enigmatic father figure! It's the Egillsons all together at last, oh my god, someone's going to die. Hopefully not Cillian, though. Also, omg Rutger Hauer. Dreamcast, right there. Be my awful, loathsome patriarch.

Title: Soothsayer Chapter 14, Part 2.

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“The harsh truth of every relationship, even between those who love each other, like fathers and sons…is that the love is always unequal.” – Karl Taro Greenfield, Triburbia

                The SUV wasn’t as luxurious as I’d expected, but it was gratifying not to be cuffed immediately and stripped of everything I had on me. The driver who met us did take my gun, but that was just good business. He considered over the lighter and the pack of cigarettes, but I gave him a look and said, “Those might be my last fucking request, okay? Can I have that?” After a moment he shrugged and handed them back, then showed us into the back of the car.

                The youngest brother was inside, waiting for us. He also held a gun on both of us. “Hello Rolf,” Sören said pleasantly as he settled into a seat.

                “Just keep your mouth shut,” Rolf snapped, his eyes darting anxiously between us. He was shorter than his older brothers, a little slimmer and had none of the stolid forcefulness of Artύr or the whiplash intelligence of Jakob. He looked even younger than Sören, honestly, and I was a little surprised that he was the one who’d been sent to fetch us. “Both of you.”