Invincible Read Online Free PDF Page A

Bailiwick might be invisible, but even with Dad gone, she
didn’t feel comfortable sitting out in the open. She pushed open the door to
Stef’s room and stepped aside to allow Graus Claude to enter. After contorting
himself gently through the door frame, he ambled into the bedroom on toweled
feet and eased himself onto the bed. The springs groaned in protest. He sighed
in relief.
    â€œCan I get you anything?” she asked.
    He leaned back. “No, thank you, I think I can—”
    â€œGood,” Joy said, cutting him off and shutting the door.
“Explain.”
    The Bailiwick threw her a rueful glare, but it was harder to
wield an aura of commanding authority while sitting on her brother’s bed.
    â€œVery well,” he said. “You might as well make yourself
comfortable. It is likely the last time you will be able to do so again.”
    Joy grabbed the desk chair and dragged it closer. “That sounds
ominous.”
    Graus Claude nodded. “It is.” As she settled into her seat, he
lifted his legs into an odd sort of lotus position, pillowing his bandaged feet
beneath him, his knees bent behind. He rocked forward, putting the bulk of his
weight on his belly. “Master Ink was good to remind me of my oaths, both to you,
as your sponsor, as well as those mandated by the King and Queen as a member of
the Council.” He paused. “As you know, there is no oath that requires loyalty to
the monarchy—it is part of the rules they spoke into being, the very words that
created the Twixt.”
    â€œYes.” This was nothing new. So why did Graus Claude look so
serious/uncomfortable/afraid? His gaze didn’t look so much at her as through
her, as if he was avoiding direct eye contact, speaking to her from a great
distance.
    â€œThe oaths we take when we swear allegiance to the Council are
designed to align us to the safekeeping of our world.” Graus Claude hunched
farther into his squat. “Do you know what we say about the origins of the Twixt?
Even without the memory of the King and Queen who spoke the world into being, we
somehow managed to remember enough to know that the Twixt was a place of safety,
of rules and order cleaved from the Elemental Wild.” Joy nodded. She’d heard the
phrase before. The Bailiwick looked at her expectantly. She raised her eyebrows.
He demurred. “It is an apt description, if not expressly clear when employing
proper nouns.”
    Joy frowned. He’d lost her. “I thought ‘Elemental Wild’ meant
that the Twixt was made back when Earth was forming, full of volcanoes and
glaciers and stuff—mountains growing, oceans receding, dinosaurs dying and all
that.”
    Graus Claude was surprised enough to chuckle. “The Twixt is
hardly that old,” he said. “Remember, humans and
Folk used to share this world and there was a peace between us, reflected in
your stories—we shared magic and technology, knowledge and medicine, land,
children...” He sighed. Joy knew there had not been children born to the Folk
for nearly a thousand years. “There was a time when there were alliances and
oaths and bonds between us, before our True Names were used to force us into
servitude and retaliations became swift and dark and dire. That is when myths
were born. The brightest daydreams became the darkest fairy tales, horrors
whispered around the fire. Those were the dark times, when there was war between
us.” He shook his head. “No, that is not when the Twixt was made. It was made
when the King and Queen decided to create order, rules to govern the land and
our people in order to protect both humans and non—before we tore the world
apart. Those who agreed to obey these laws became the Folk,” he said. “And those
who rejected order, preferring chaos and the battle of wills, they were called
Elementals and their part of the world was called the Wild.”
    Joy tried to wrap her