The Final Key: Part Two of Triad Read Free Page A

endless ocean of waves, lapping, lapping, rocking, soft and smooth.
    Waves murmuring.
    Waves rocking.
    Rocking.
    Eldrin sighed and settled Taquinil more comfortably in his arms. He could carry his son forever, his beloved son. If only he could heal the pain, if only he could make Taquinil's life as serene as his own...
    Serene?
    Not likely. Many words described his life: confusing, lonely, painfully beautiful—but "serene" wasn't one of them.
    It was true, though. He felt remarkably calm.
    Taquinil sighed and sagged against Eldrin. Tension drained out of his body. Immensely grateful, Eldrin closed his eyes. He wandered through the suite, less focused, aware of little
    more than his relief that Taquinil's attack had passed. It surprised him that the relaxant had acted so fast; usually this soon after taking medicine, he felt only preliminary effects. He rarely needed any, though; he had top-of-the-line nanomeds in his body to maintain his health, and he almost never fell ill. He was only twenty-three and he rarely thought about growing old, but someday, when it became an issue, the meds would even delay his aging.
    Taquinil began to breathe with the steady rhythm of sleep. After a few more minutes, Eldrin took him to his room and tucked him into bed. The boy settled under his covers, his face peaceful.
    Joy filled Eldrin in seeing his son content. Tranquillity spread through him. He hadn't felt this good since—well, never. No wonder Alaj had prescribed this medicine for Dehya. His wife deserved peace in her life.
    Peace.
    Weese.
    Geese.
    Fly.
    Fly away.
    The living room swirled in a rainbow of colors. Eldrin didn't remember coming back here. With a satisfied grunt, he dropped onto the couch and stretched out his legs. His body seemed to float A thought came dreamily to him: he could go outside to the balcony, jump off, and fly over the city. Except he didn't want to move. He felt so incredibly good. He hadn't been this happy in ages, maybe never, surely never, nothing compared to this. It was almost too much, too much, too much happiness. His mind swirled, unraveling in ecstasy, lost to the lovely, glorious night...
    WaŤe up! Father, waKe up!
    The words in his mind went on, such a dear sound ...
    "Please." The young voice pleaded. "Father, what's wrong? Wake up! Please!"
    Eldrin blearily opened his eyes. Taquinil was standing next to him, dressed in pajamas, his eyes wide as he anxiously shook Eldrin's arm. As soon as Eldrin met his gaze, Taquinil
    made a choked sound and climbed up next to him. Confused and groggy, Eldrin put his arm around his son's shoulders and peered around. He was sprawled on the couch, his body slumped against the white cushions. Light from the Sun Lamp streamed through a window at an angle that suggested it was early morning in the thirty-hour cycle of the space habitat's day.
    Eldrin sighed. So beautiful a day. He squeezed Taquinil's shoulders. "Don't be scared. I took some medicine last night, that's all. It made me sleepy."
    Taquinil curled against his side. "I thought you were sick."
    "I'm fine. Really." Eldrin leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The world flowed around him...
    "—time to eat," Taquinil prodded. "Come on, Hoshpa."
    Eldrin lifted his head, blinking and unfocused. Taquinil wasn't snuggled against him anymore. In fact, the boy was standing in front of him, dressed in dark blue trousers and a lighter blue pullover. His shoes peeked out from beneath his trousers.
    Eldrin tried to focus. "How are you feeling?" "Fine, Hoshpa." Taquinil looked much calmer. "Good." Eldrin rubbed his eyes. "Have you had breakfast?"
    "An hour ago." Taquinil's forehead furrowed. "You should eat. That medicine makes you too sleepy."
    Eldrin sat up and rested his elbows on his knees. He grinned at his son. "You're a delightful sight for your hoshpa's eyes."
    Taquinil blushed and smiled. "Come on." He took Eldrin's hand. "I'll make you breakfast."
    Eldrin wondered if other people's six-year-olds spoke this