Redhawk Caldera Two large gulps of free-range oxygen

He didn't quite know what to say when Osprey asked about Crete's bastards, mostly because he couldn't remember why he hadn't told her. She didn't seem overly perturbed about it, though he could only imagine what it had been like for Gunnar to show up on her doorstep. Actually, he really could empathize. It wasn't that different from the situation with Bones and Atticus, really.

"I'm sorry, it must have slipped my mind... that, or I didn't know you didn't know. Especially back when I first found out about it, I didn't like to talk about it. It's been nearly a year and I'm still angry with him. Anyway, Crete's no father. Those kids are one hundred precent Ragnar's." Their brother had donated sperm and that was all.

"Huh," he said in response to his sister's logic. "You're probably right. Mo actually told me it wasn't a real bird, come to think of it. She would know," Peregrine mused fondly. His mother's encyclopedic knowledge of birds had always impressed him. "Did she ever tell you how she came to know so much about birds? She said she went into a coma and when she woke up—bam!—she was like a walking bird encyclopedia. How strange is that? I miss her and dad."

Peregrine fell silent for a few beats. Then a thought drifted through his head and he said, "On the subject of passed relatives... did you know Pied could see ghosts?"