Miss Audrey wasn't the only one staying behind in the Evergreen Forest. Papa Oliver had business there as well. As it turned out, he knew Miss Strass, another Saint from the Church of the Sage, and they had matters to attend to. That left Jenkins to return to the city on his own.
He had originally intended to track down the demigod from the Gear Artisans' Association first thing in the morning. However, after touching the blood sample he'd quietly collected, he discovered the man was hiding on the surface in Nolan's eastern mining district, not deep underground as he'd expected. The location was clearly one of the association's surface-level strongholds. While that was a significant piece of information, it wasn't particularly useful to Jenkins. He decided to wait, hoping he might uncover an even more secret hideout.
With his day now unexpectedly free, Jenkins decided to skip the eting at City Hall and head ho to Maidenhaven Road. He needed to speak with his mother, Mary, about inviting their distant relative, Miss Sigrid Capet, over for a visit the following evening. The matter had been postponed for a full month, but all the preparations for her arrival had been made long ago, so Mary didn't chide him for the last-minute notice.
"But... besides Miss Capet, I've actually invited a few others to join us."
Jenkins shifted uncomfortably on the living room sofa, his voice strained. He didn't even have the heart to stroke the cat purring on his lap.
"Do we have any other relatives?"
Mary Williams inquired, snug in her sweater. It had rained the entire day, and now, with dusk creeping in, the temperature had certainly dropped.
"Not relatives... though perhaps they will be soday," he began. "I... also invited a few other young won to visit. You know them—Miss Stuart, Miss Mikhail, Miss Miller, and Miss Hersha. Oh, and Dolores's personal maid, Miss Julia Minnewick, will likely be coming as well. You rember her; she was here for a visit not long ago."
Mary said nothing, her gaze fixed on Jenkins as her hands continued their work. It was a marvelous skill she possessed—the ability to knit perfectly without ever looking down at her needles.
"My little Jenkins has certainly grown up," she finally remarked.
Jenkins lowered his head, silent, and stared at the cat on his knees as if he were seeing Chocolate for the very first ti.
"What ever possessed you to invite them all at the sa ti as Miss Capet?"
Her tone made it sound as though she were asking him why he didn't know that one plus one equals two.
"Well, I'd have to bring them ho sooner or later anyway," Jenkins mumbled. "I thought it would be more... ti-efficient to do it all at once."
Jenkins explained in a low voice, not daring to et his mother's eyes. Instead, he listened to the faint rasp of her long knitting needles rubbing against each other.
"Very well..." she sighed. "But this won't be a formal banquet. Tomorrow is simply a casual visit. Make sure you remind the young ladies not to co in evening gowns, and that there's no need for expensive gifts. I won't have people saying our family is unkind to the won who may one day marry into it."
"Understood."
Jenkins had long since co to terms with his new identity and felt comfortable with his family, so after a mont's thought, he summoned his courage and asked another question:
"So... you don't bla for... getting involved with so many... young won?"
He then heard his mother laugh. Jenkins looked at her, perplexed. The kindly middle-aged woman, mother to the three Williams brothers, offered her second son an explanation:
"If it were a stranger in the papers, I would gossip with the neighbors and denounce him. If it were an acquaintance, I would distance myself and warn you boys to never befriend such a person. If it were your father, I would... show him what else these knitting needles are for. But you, Jenkins, you're different. You're my son."
Her eyes softened as she looked at the son she had raised, the child who most resembled his father.
"I want you, Newman, and John to marry well, have children, and live happy lives. If this is the life you want for yourself, then I won't stand in your way. I will give you my blessing, and then... I will hope that you let hold the next generation of Williamses very soon."
Her expression turned serious then.
"But Jenkins, while I don't object—and am even a little relieved you're not entirely uninterested in won—you must understand that what you are doing is wrong. It's immoral. Do not be proud of this situation. You must cherish those young won."
Jenkins nodded quickly, knowing that anything he said would be the wrong thing.
After leaving Maidenhaven Road, Jenkins didn't return to his own ho. Instead, he went to inform Alexia and Dolores about the visit tomorrow evening.
Neither had any objections, of course. Alexia then asked about the previous night's events. She had been in Ruen all night and had only returned that morning, by which ti the incident with the Children of the Mist had largely concluded.
Alexia's night hadn't been without its own successes, however. Having secured permission from the Orthodox Church, she had been able to access the upper floors of the tower. And thanks to Jenkins's endorsent, she was even granted access to read certain forbidden texts and materials.
She had been continuing her search for information on the Difference Engine, while also hoping to chance upon any legends or stories about ancient demigods attempting to ascend to a higher state. Though she failed on both fronts, Alexia did stumble upon so unexpected information.
"Do you rember the 'Reverser of Fate'?" (Chapter 258)
Jenkins paused, his mind drifting back to the autumn when he'd encountered the Treasure Elf. He'd been buying firewood for the winter, as he recalled, and on a whim, decided to take his cat hunting in the woods. That was when he'd accidentally stumbled upon a ssage left by so cultists—the first ti he had ever heard of the 'Children of the Mist' plan.
The "Reverser of Fate, Mr. B," had only been ntioned in a letter; Jenkins had never actually t the man. He'd only brought it up with Alexia once, long after they'd gotten to know each other, because the letter had been addressed to the Tree House demigod, Mr. Clark. He was surprised she even rembered the title. Now, nearly a year later, the na brought the mory back to him.
"Back then, the Reverser of Fate, Mr. B, was connected to both Mr. Clark and the followers of the Lord of Immortality. I wasn't sure which faction he belonged to, so I didn't pay it much mind. I just assud that after the followers of the Lord of Immortality were defeated, Mr. B left Nolan as well. That title... is there sothing wrong with it?"
"A very big problem."
Alexia nodded, her gaze serious as she t his.
"First of all, we can be certain of one thing: the man referred to as 'the Reverser of Fate, Mr. B' in that letter you ntioned is definitely a mber of the Tree House."
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