Brothers: Legacy of the Twice-Dead God (19 page)

“Well, that makes it obvious,” I said,
looking up at Kieran. He narrowed his eyes, shrugging. “What did
Ethan teach me three days ago?” I asked him.

Kieran and Ethan locked eyes for a long
moment, then Kieran said, “Ethan taught you some very specialized
healing magic in the old tongue, but just knowing and using this
magic should not so completely hide your aura from the physical
plane. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Why were you looking, anyway?” I asked
Peter. “Not that it matters to me because I can’t turn it off and
on myself, so it’s not like I could object.”

“I was trying to see what kind of sparks you
threw off,” Peter answered. “What do you mean you can’t turn it
off?”

“Wait,” Kieran interrupted, “Too many
questions, at once. What do you mean by ‘sparks’?” He pulled a
chair away from the wall, turning it backward and sitting, facing
Peter and me.

“That’s why wizards and magicians avoid
electronics,” Peter said. “For the most part, as we progress in our
magic, we get stronger and we tend to discharge energies through
our auras somewhat. Sparks. It’s these sparks that disrupt
electronics. The more intricate the device or the more sensitive to
electricity, the more likely it is to get zapped.”

“And this happens with everyone?” Kieran
asked.

“As far as I know,” Peter said. “I suppose
there could be some sort of shield that could be done for short
terms like going into hospitals and such. Come to think of it,
there would have to be, my dad has a cell phone he keeps in his
briefcase most of the time.”

Then Peter turned to me and asked, “And
you’ve seen auras all your life? Always on? Doesn’t that get
confusing?”

“No,” I said, shrugging.

“How would he know any differently?” asked
Ethan.

“But,” started Peter, “that might explain why
Olivia and Robert kept Seth so isolated during his younger years.
At least in part, to limit the influence of others’ magic on
him.”

“More likely to hide the fact but a valid
consideration nonetheless,” said Kieran. He laced his hands
together and rested his chin against them on the back of the chair,
thinking. “How did you find the anchor?”

“Ethan said he was stuck in the Pact lock.
When I called his name, there was only one point on the surface of
the Pact that didn’t seem to protect itself from intrusion. I
assumed that was the anchor. When I pushed through it, there he
was.”

“Seth,” he asked carefully, “you can
differentiate a point on a sphere?” I nodded. “Can you do it
again?” I swiftly moved into the cavern, flipped up the Pact from
its brick-like stand, and searched for the tiny hole. I pushed at
it a little.

Ethan said, grinning, “Yeah, he can find it.
That tickles. Quit!”

Kieran turned back to the bed, looking at
Ethan with an arched eyebrow. “He can influence you?”

“It’s the same as him being there,” said
Ethan, reaching back blindly for a pillow, then tossing it straight
at my head, still grinning. “I said quit!”

I caught the pillow with one hand, tossed it
back, and finished my slice of pizza. Ethan caught it in return and
used it to prop himself on the bed, stretching out length-wise.
Peter and Kieran seemed lost in thought so I went after another
piece of pizza.

“Where are you keeping the weapons?” Kieran
asked.

“I dunno,” I said, munching on a slice of
sausage with black olive, peppers, and onions. “Wherever Ethan put
them.”

“I put them in your hands,” said Ethan. “What
you did with them after that, I haven’t a clue. I kept giving them
to you because you seemed to have a place to put them.”

That shook me. That means they were acting on
their own. They seemed to me to be doing that anyway when I used
them, but what did that mean when I put them away? I brought out
the Night sword and, holding it aloft near the ceiling, peered
below its surface at the magic that held it together. Below that,
the off-white dragon’s bone stood rigid, stronger than titanium,
and resisted the pull of the dark energies that pulsed around and
through it, giving it its name. Its hilt was fine silver filigree,
giving it a lighter, more rapier-like character.

“So where are they going?” I asked. “Does it
look the same?”

“Yes,” said Kieran.

“No,” said Ethan. Kieran turned to him,
surprised.

Ethan stood up on the far side of the bed and
smoothed it out, saying, “Bring all five of them out, please,
Seth.”

I tossed what was left of the pizza slice in
the trash and stood, transferring the Sword to my right hand. I
brought out the scabbard and sheathed the Sword in one smooth
movement, laying it on the bed in front of Ethan. Then one by one,
I brought out the Day Sword, the Crossbow and the Quiver, and the
Stone, laying out each as they were in my space, more or less by
happenstance. Ethan looked carefully at each in turn, not touching
any, then invited Kieran to do the same by sweeping his arm at the
bed, smiling. Kieran accepted the implied challenge, starting with
the Day Sword, staring soberly and intently.

“Oh!” exclaimed Kieran, almost laughing at
the Stone at the bottom of the bed. “I guess it still could be yes
from my perspective, though. That is how I first saw them. They’ve
been tuned to him. Ethan, he does not have the knowledge to do
this. What happened? Does this have a scent to it?”

“Yes, there is a definite scent to the magic
involved,” Ethan said, looking back and forth between us. “But he
does not have the knowledge to do this.” Ethan shrugged, muscled
shoulders showing through the tight T shirt. I’d try to
remember to grab some more when we were out next, larger. I sat
down, feeling tired again. It occurred to me what they were saying
about the weapons.

“What do you mean they’ve been tuned again?”
I asked.

“May I look at them?” asked Peter from behind
me. I waited for either Kieran or Ethan to answer. When they
didn’t, I looked up to see them looking expectantly at me.

“What?” I asked, looking at Peter. “I don’t
mind, but they’re not mine to say.”

“Someone disagrees with you there,” said
Kieran, picking up the Day Sword by the hilt. I could hear a low
rumbling, like a big heavy rock sliding against another, starting
in the distance, but I couldn’t place where it was coming from.
When Kieran pulled the Sword free of its scabbard the rumbling
changed pitch and it was obvious from where the noise was coming.
The Sword was complaining about its current handler.

Peter was looking at the fist-sized black
Stone from the foot of the bed. Ethan joined him, asking, “How far
into the enchantment can you see?”

“Not very far,” Peter said, grimacing. “I’m
not all that strong. Basically, I can get down to the layer of
obfuscation, then I lose any detail.”

“Seth,” Ethan looked over at me, “How many
layers on the Stone do you see?”

I looked at the rock on the bed. Propping my
head up with my hand on the palm and elbow on the table, I looked
at the layers of magic penetrating the Stone. The obfuscation layer
that Peter saw was close to the top. I concentrated on seeing
deeper. It had a lot of magic poured into it over the centuries of
its existence. A lot.

“Five hundred and…” I started. It got blurry.
Pinching the bridge of my nose and shaking my head to help clear
it, I looked again counting carefully. “Seven hundred and twelve.”
The Sword’s whine was getting on my nerves. “Would you hush?” It
stopped.

Both Peter and Ethan were staring at me with
their jaws dropped. I was getting that a lot lately.

“You know, if y’all keep that up, I’m going
into dentistry. At least then I’d understand why your mouths are
hanging open.”

Kieran sheathed the petulant Day Sword and
placed it on the bed, chuckling the entire time. He stepped over my
outstretched feet and moved around the bed, looking carefully at
each implement in turn again.

“Seth, call them,” Kieran said quietly.

“How? Say ‘Hey, Rock, C’mere’?” I asked,
sarcastically. Peter shoved himself away from the bed as the smooth
black Stone flew off the bed, narrowly missing his head, shooting
straight at the center of my chest. It hit me before I could start
dodging it, but dodge I did. Ethan and Kieran had a huge laugh at
my spastic attempt to miss something that was no longer there. At
least Peter seemed to be concerned and came to my side, making sure
I wasn’t hurt. I glared at them for their laughter while my heart
slowed down.

“That seemed to work pretty well,” said
Kieran, sitting on the other bed now. “Maybe we should keep the
Swords in their scabbards if they’re going to fly around the
room.”

“Where did it go?” I wheezed, sitting up in
the chair. The Stone was just gone. I couldn’t find it anywhere on
the floor or the table.

“It went in to where your aura is hiding,”
said Ethan. “Wherever that is.”

“Something physical went to the same place
that’s hiding something metaphysical,” I said in disbelief.

“This from the man who found a
one-dimensional object on a two-dimensional sphere, then projected
intelligible energy through it to a three-dimensional object and
back again.” He crossed his arms, leaning back against the dresser,
grinning in challenge.

“I’m not sure I like seeing myself in you,” I
said, narrowing my eyes at him, smiling a little. “Z’at ch’all’s
way a’ sayin’ y’all don’ know?” I let a little Southern Georgia
drawl come out in that one. The words were a reach but the accent
was real, if overly dramatic. Trying to make a point here,
gentlemen. They were hiding something. And they were treating me
like I was a stupid hick.

“No, not at all,” said Ethan, shaking his
head. “I mean exactly that. Look for yourself.”

Now that was a little shocking. I looked in
my cavern, in the center. There stood the wondrously colorful Pact
with its protective magic sitting atop a brick pedestal. The rock
had indeed returned. It had tuned to me somehow and made itself
quite comfortable in me. I stared deeply into the foundation Stone,
looking at each layer. So many different ways to push the magic
through to manipulate the power of the tool. Perhaps the others
could be equally as useful. Each one came to me with whatever I
thought to call it: Day Sword, Night Sword, Crossbow and Quiver. I
brought the Day back out and had Ethan hold it while I called for
it again. It pulled on him, he said, before sliding out of its
sheath and flew hilt first to my hand. It thrummed in the air at
Ethan, shooting sparks angrily in his direction while I held it out
of his reach. It was my turn to laugh.

“Well, I see what tuning means,” I said. I
moved the Sword and scabbard to their holding places. “But I didn’t
do this. I wouldn’t know how to begin doing this.”

“Yes,” Kieran agreed. “That is part of the
puzzle.” His eyes were unfocused and he stared off into space
somewhere over my shoulders.

“So how are your computers?” I asked Peter.
“There’s been some pretty strong magic thrown around here now and
definitely some sparks. That’s how this conversation started.” I
plopped down in the chair as Peter hurriedly started checking the
three laptops on the table. Kieran leaned back and opened the
laptop near him. The computer came to life after a few seconds and
he closed it again, satisfied it was working.

“Everything looks fine,” Peter said, tapping
keys on what I guess was his primary computer. He’d closed the
other two after checking them.

“So where are we on finding my parents?” I
asked. “Has anyone gone through the stuff from Colbert’s office
yet?” Fun time with weapons wasn’t giving us anything but more
unanswered questions.

“Yes,” answered Peter, “and we did make one
happy discovery if not immediately helpful to the goal.”

“Artur worked with a lot of humans,” Kieran
said, tapping on the laptop again. “Humans who used computers
extensively apparently. Everything that we have found in that box
has been verified against what we’ve found in what Peter called his
data dump. Which means we have the information in a computer form
that can be more readily manipulated.” He turned, grinning, then
said, “Of course, Peter’s the one doing the manipulating.”

“He’s learning fast,” Peter said softly,
turning his laptop to me and showing its screen to me. He picked up
a second one and flipped open its screen, tapping on its keyboard
after a few seconds.

I pulled the proffered computer closer and
started reading. It was the same list of names from Colbert’s box
that I’d seen previously down one side and dates along the top,
forming a grid. It formed a timeline of sorts. The fairy names were
conspicuous for their lack of information, but the others had a
considerable amount. Peter showed me how to manipulate the mouse
pointer with the touchpad to collapse and enlarge blocks of
information to see a broader picture. He showed me how some things
could be clicked to bring up more information on the highlighted
item. Conceptually, it wasn’t difficult and with assurances that I
couldn’t hurt anything even if I fried the computer, I started
digging tiredly through the data.

The room got quiet as all four of us delved
into research, though I didn’t see when Ethan picked up the fourth
laptop. After a few minutes, somebody put some music on low so the
room wasn’t completely silent: post-grunge by the sound of it,
mostly British. It was oddly calming, and I definitely needed
calming. My mind started to wander a few minutes into the research
so I reached out and grabbed a nearby ley line, much nearer than in
the first hotel, and toyed with it with imaginary fingers while I
read in the real world.

I started with the names I knew, my
grandfather first, Uriah St. Croix. His biography in the reports
was not complimentary in several aspects, implying he was involved
in several political and criminal scandals over the last twenty
years. There were links to newspaper articles and government agency
databases supposedly supporting some of those claims. I glossed
over most, opting to target more recent activities and those
related to Mom and Dad. Itineraries from August showed he met with
both of them about a hospital in Gulfport. There was a newspaper
article with a picture. I couldn’t keep it onscreen for long. It
just ached and reemphasized that I could be looking for corpses
now.