Now Malvern Vonhausel was dead, and Grayson had all those other black dogs, at least any of them he decided to keep, and also the ones James Mallory was supposed to bring when the roads opened⦠maybe the Dimilioc Master thought he could dispense with one disobedient black dog pup. Alejandro shut his eyes, breathing slowly, trying not to show his dismay. He knew he should be grateful that Grayson couldn't actually kill him without offending Natividad. She and Miguel would be safe, that was the important thing. But Alejandro's heart sank at the thought that the Master might send him away â he would be alone, just another solitary stray black dog, maybe for the rest of his life. He did not know what to say to make Grayson change his mind.
“You are loyal to your sister,” Grayson rumbled. “And to your brother. That does you credit. But Dimilioc itself is nothing to you.
Can
you broaden that loyalty of yours to encompass Dimilioc entire? I wonder about that.”
Alejandro opened his mouth, but closed it again without speaking. He had realized as Grayson had spoken that the Master was wrong; that Dimilioc
was
important to him, that he wanted it to belong to him as a home, that he wanted to belong to it in turn. But he did not know how to say any of this. He did not even know when the change had happened, or exactly why. It was Natividad who immediately cared what happened to anybody and everybody she met, and it was Miguel who cared about Dimilioc as an institution, as a concept. But he⦠Grayson had been right about him:
he
had not cared about Dimilioc at all.
When he had told Miguel he had to warn Grayson about Natividad being gone, he should have realized then that this had changed. When he had found himself utterly dismayed to think first that Ezekiel might kill Grayson, and then the reverse: he should have realized it then. But he had not known it until now, and now it was too late. He did not have his brother's quick tongue or his sister's charm, and he was sure that Grayson would not believe any protest he made.
Grayson's voice dropped into an even lower tone. “Keziah cares about herself and her sister, no one else. Andrew and Russell Meade will care about their sisters and possibly about each other. Thaddeus is less limited. He cares about his family, but also he wishes to be a man his wife will respect and love. He, I believe, will be a great asset to Dimilioc. You⦔ He turned his heavy gaze on Alejandro and fell silent.
“I care about Dimilioc.” Even to himself, Alejandro sounded defensive.
“Do you?” Grayson studied him. “Perhaps you do. Or perhaps you might, in time. Your Pure sister may offer you both a good example and an incentive. That seems possible to me. Dimilioc's previous Master⦠Thos Korte was strong, but he cared for nothing but strength. In his mind, Dimilioc owned resources. Those included its black wolves, which, as with all his resources, he put to hard use. He was not a good Master for Dimilioc. But he was
strong
.”
Alejandro glanced at the Master, confused by the change of topic and doubtful of the implication he thought he'd heard. Just as quickly, he looked away. He tried to imagine anyone thinking Grayson weak, and failed completely. Ezekiel might outfight the Master. But Ezekiel was not
stronger
. He tried to think how to say this, realized he did not dare say anything of the kind, and was silent.
“I think you will develop considerable strength,” Grayson said, with no great emphasis. He was no longer looking at Alejandro, but again at the house. “And you have the gift of forcing down the shadows of other black dogs. That gift, too, will become more powerful with age.”
Worse and worse. Grayson saw him, then, not merely as a disobedient black pup, but also as a potential rivalâ¦
“It's a necessary gift for any Dimilioc Master,” said Grayson. Turning his head, he thoughtfully looked Alejandro up and down.
Alejandro stared at him, incredulous.
The Master's mouth crooked with a slow humor that was edged with savagery, yet not unkind. “You have proper Dimilioc blood from your father, which is symbolically important; and Pure blood from your mother, which strengthens your control over your shadow. You hold your temper when you fight, which is crucial. You have a human brother, so you value ordinary people; you have a Pure sister, so you cherish the Pure â and if Ezekiel wins Natividad, your tactical position within Dimilioc will be strong. Especially since you will find Ezekiel does not want the Mastery himself.” He paused.
Alejandro said nothing. He could think of nothing to say.
 “So,” said Grayson. “You will accustom yourself to the notion. It will not be soon. But in time.
If
you learn to care about Dimilioc. It is your commitment I doubt, not your strength.”
Alejandro could hardly imagine being strong enough to take mastery of the Dimilioc black wolves. He said, hardly aware he was speaking aloud, “Thaddeus â and Keziah⦔
“You must make Thaddeus into your ally. The strength of your allies can be as important as your own strength. Keziah may be more difficult, I admit.” The Master added after a moment, “If your sister accepts Ezekiel, you will be well-placed to succeed me.”
This had not occurred to Alejandro, but it was obviously true. He drew a breath, but then closed his mouth without speaking. Another breath. He said at last, “I thought you⦠I thought I⦔ but stopped again, trying to reorder all his thoughts.
“It will not be soon,” Grayson repeated. “Nor at all, if you remain indifferent to Dimilioc. I will not permit any black dog locked into a narrow self-centeredness to take the succession. I will kill you before I permit that.” He looked away, at the house. He seemed in that moment⦠not exactly old. But worn. The humor had left him. He said quietly, “Alejandro⦠Dimilioc must never again have a Master who views his black wolves merely as resources to be used. It must not have a Master who cares for nothing but strength. You cherish your family.
That
is the drive that sets true determination beneath your control. If you would take Dimilioc, then Dimilioc must become your home and your family.”
“Yes,” said Alejandro, understanding him completely. That was not a warning, or not
only
a warning; it was also an invitation, and a promise. He said, finding the words at last, “It is. It will be. That's what I want it to be. Not just for me. For us all.”
He knew he meant it. He had not realized that was true until that moment. But the words stood bright and clear in the brilliant morning light, and he knew he had never in his life been so certain of anything.
Â
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: BLACK DOG
Â
Thanks are due to the entire Strange Chemistry team, and as always to my agent, Caitlin Blasdell, without whose insight every one of my books would be the poorer. But for this one, I also owe a great debt to Sarah Prineas, whose advice was instrumental in turning
Black Dog
from an adult to a young adult story; and most especially to Abril Borrego and Concepción Beyer, whose help with colloquial Spanish was invaluable. It really is true that any remaining mistakes are entirely my fault. Â
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rachel Neumeier started writing in graduate school as a break from research, but years ago allowed her hobbies take over her life. Along with writing both adult and young adult fantasy, she now gardens, cooks Indian food, breeds and shows Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, and occasionally finds time to read.
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Strange Chemistry #25
A Strange Chemistry paperback original 2014
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Copyright © Rachel Neumeier 2014
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incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.