Brothers: Legacy of the Twice-Dead God (44 page)

Shrank flew up from the back of the couch,
alarmed. “There is a runner at the gate on the balcony,” he
squeaked, then twisting in the air, followed with, “and dinner has
arrived at the front.”

“I’ll take the runner,” I said, getting
up.

“I’ll take dinner, then,” said Ethan, heading
for the front.

I stepped out onto the balcony to find a
young man, maybe twelve to fourteen, tapping idly on the gate. He
instantly stood straight when he saw me, his eyes growing large. He
looked like he could scamper away like a frightened mouse at any
moment, and the loose brown robes he wore didn’t help dispel the
image at all.

“May I help you?” I asked him.

“I have a message for Master McClure, sir,”
he said, his voice squeaky with puberty and nerves. He held out a
folded piece of paper in his shaky hand.

“He’s inside. Come on in,” I said. I started
to turn back to the apartment, but his reaction stopped me. He
froze, pale, eyes wide. No, his eyes rolled back in his head. He
was going down. Luckily, he slumped over the gate instead of
falling backward and I was able to get to him before he hit the
ground. “Could somebody give me a hand, please?” I called loudly,
trying to open the gate and not drop the kid at the same time.
Ethan came out fast and picked the boy up under his arms, bypassing
the gate completely.

“What happened?” he asked, brusquely, holding
the kid up and examining him closely.

“I think he was expecting someone just like
him and got me instead,” I said. I couldn’t keep the amusement out
of my voice. I was almost giggling at one point. “He got really
scared when I walked out. When I suggested that he should deliver
the message to Kieran himself, well… he didn’t take it so well.”
Okay, I admit it. I giggled.

Ethan turned to stare at me, mouth agape.
“Seth,” he said, putting two syllables in my name in admonishment.
“Look at that closely anyway, before you pick it up, and I’ll take
him inside.”

I found the paper again and checked it out,
just in case. Ethan was really a lot older than I knew and you
didn’t get to be old and paranoid just by being paranoid. There
still wasn’t an energy signature of any kind on the paper so I
followed Ethan and the boy in with it.

The room had change significantly from when
I’d left it. Not changed so much as been added to: long tables
piled high with food, hot and cold. There had to be enough food
there for twenty people. I stopped at the couch and stared at the
tables, holding the paper out to Kieran. The kid was sitting on the
end of the couch from Kieran. He was starting to come around and
Ethan was sticking his fingers in a glass and splashing water in
his face. Yeah, I giggled again.

Reading the missive, Kieran said, “Mr. Cahill
is letting us know that he has been moved to the Arena into an
apartment next to our own. He has invited us to visit at any time.
He also introduces us to his younger son, Martin.” He flipped the
paper down against his chest and looked at the boy at the end of
the couch. “Are you Martin?” he asked. The boy nodded, still
shell-shocked.

“Why is he introducing us to you?” I asked
picking up a plate and helping myself to the food. “Ehran, you want
anything?”

“Yes, actually,” Kieran said, getting up.
Stopping at Peter to help him up, “C’mon, skinny, you can’t stop
moving. Just go slow.”

I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I
sat down with the plate I’d fixed and saw how I’d piled it. “Would
you like something to eat, Martin? There’s plenty!” I said as I sat
down opposite him, next to Peter’s seat. I looked up at him when he
didn’t answer. He was staring at me fearfully, eyes darting
occasionally to the others fixing their plates.

“Dude, what are you so afraid of?” I asked
him, leaning back on the couch.

“You,” he said, meekly, pushing back into the
couch a little further. “All of you, I mean.”

“Really?” I said, not surprised. I bit into a
piece of meat rolled in pepper that looked really good and I was
not disappointed. “Why? Your father is Felix Cahill. He’s, what, a
top guy for the European Council? Surely you’ve seen powerful
magicians and mages before. I definitely don’t fit that bill, but
Ehran and Ethan do. Peter’s well past the apprentice stage, but
Ehran’s going to show him some new stuff, too.”

Ethan set his plate on the table between us
and sat on the floor to eat. He glanced up at Martin and said,
“There’s plenty over there if you want any.”

Kieran said, “He doesn’t understand how we
could have done what we did today and sit here so calmly and eat
now. Don’t judge him too harshly—you would have the same
problem.”

“Yeah, I guess I can see that,” I said,
stabbing another piece of pepper-covered meat. “If it’s any
consolation to you, Martin, it’s a whole lot easier to accept when
what you’re killing is trying to eat you alive.” I popped the steak
into my mouth and chewed slowly to savor the flavors. “Hmm, that’s
good.”

“What?” he croaked out.

“That’s what the Loa do,” said Ethan. “And
the big one was after Seth. It wanted a long, slow banquet. We just
couldn’t let that happen.”

“Have you seen my mother?” I asked. “The
woman your father is helping?” Martin nodded. “He did that to her,
St. Croix did. She’s his daughter. And if I’m going to help her,
I’ve got to stay alive and healthy. I’ve got to eat and sleep and
learn. Find people that can help me, like my brother, Peter, Ethan,
your father. The same is true if I’m going to find my father.”

“You looked plenty powerful enough when you
threw the fairies out of the Arena,” Martin said, gaining a bit of
confidence in himself.

“They started it,” I said, grimacing. Kieran
and Ethan started snickering again.

“You did what?” Peter asked, almost shouting
at us.

“They attacked us en masse right after the
fight with the Loa,” I told Peter. “It was more expedient to throw
them out than let Ehran and Ethan kill them. At that moment, you
were more important.”

“I would have loved to have seen their faces
when they landed,” said Kieran, still snickering. “He snatched the
arrogant little snots up by the napes of their necks, told them
off, then tossed them aside like used handkerchiefs. It was
hilarious!” Then he broke out laughing.

“And I can barely light a candle and move a
book,” muttered Martin, looking forlorn. “It’s no wonder father is
ashamed of me.”

“I doubt he would have sent you here if he
was ashamed of you,” said Peter, eating slowly but finally eating.
I was afraid we were going to have to threaten him again.

“And I can’t light a candle without matches,”
I admitted.

“I wonder if this is how normal people would
feel around us if they knew,” Martin said, in an off-hand way.

“Or born a null,” I said. Martin looked
stricken. He’d heard the rumors about me well before he saw me in
action. He may even still think I’m a null. Now that was an
interesting idea. “Aren’t those robes hot?”

“Very,” he said with breathy voice. “But
father is insistent…” switching to a husky and deep voice then
said, “on an established school with a proper curriculum vitae. All
the ceremony and history, just like your brother and me and my
father before us.” His eyes glazed over a bit as he switched back
to his normal voice. “I could tell he wanted to just smack me one
when I asked him what a curriculum vitae was. Made me go look it
up. Got even madder when I asked him to explain the
definition.”

All of us broke down laughing at Martin’s
story, including Martin. Once we’d settled down some, Martin said,
“Even father had to admit it was a confusing entry once he’d read
it.” He glanced over and realized that Master McClure was smiling
and looking down with emerald green eyes. “I meant no disrespect
for my Da, sir,” he said, stiffening a little.

“I have a father, too, Martin,” Kieran said,
softly. “Shrank, you have a job to do tonight. Quite below your
abilities but important nonetheless.”

The pixie was a streak of red from the back
of the couch to Kieran. “Yes, Lord?” he squealed in a flutter of
gold over Kieran’s discarded plate on the coffee table.

“I need you to watch him,” Kieran said,
pointing to Peter. “He’s allowed to eat, sleep, and go to the
bathroom, but nothing else until we get back. Understand?”

Peter looked crushed. “I don’t get to see
Mrs. McClure?” he complained.

“Tomorrow. I’m afraid this will be more of a
hospital visitation than a joyous reunion,” said Kieran, sadly.
“And you need to rest more than you need to worry. For Seth’s sake,
you stay here tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” he grumbled.

“A job where I get to sleep,” squealed
Shrank, drifting like a leaf, back and forth through the air, to
Peter’s shoulder. “What are the odds?”

“I should brush my teeth and use the bathroom
before we leave,” I said, leaving my plate on the coffee table,
too.

When I came out of the bathroom and was
moving through the bedroom, I heard Peter and Martin talking
quietly in the main room. Kieran and Ethan were out on the balcony
waiting and watching the repairs on the field, the walls barely
dimming the sights of their auras to me.

“They’re not what you expected, are they?”
Peter asked Martin. I slowed as I neared the door. I knew Peter
could see me coming, so I wasn’t sure why he chose that moment ask
the question unless he wanted me to hear the answer.

“I don’t know what I was expecting, Pete,”
Martin said, “but no, I don’t guess they are. Da said they’d
surprise me. They seem so… nice, so regular. But to know what
they’re capable of, but not see them… it’s scary.”

Peter chuckled. “You’re seeing more of Seth
than you realize. He’s not that complicated.”

“Thanks a lot, Peter,” I said as I walked
into the room. “As weak as you are, you want to take pot shots at
me?”

“Psht. You could take me apart at full
strength, so what difference does it make?” Peter asked, half
turning to me and grinning crookedly.

“Eat. Sleep. Bathroom,” I said to Peter.
“Manage just that and I’ll show you where your new toy is tomorrow,
okay?”

“Yes, mother,” he said sarcastically.

“Another comment like that and it’s Esteleum
for a week,” I threatened him.

“Oooh, yuck, de Sade. I’d shut up now, Pete,”
Martin said, jokingly. He stood and smoothed his brown robes.
“Shall we go, marquis?” The kid was definitely lightening up.

Martin led me back through the balcony where
we met up with Kieran and Ethan, then out the gate to the left.
MacNamara was true to his word—they were right next door to us. He
took the first gate on the left and entered that balcony, stopping
at the apartment entrance and knocking on the wall before walking
in. This apartment was different from ours, both in décor and size.
The main room was divided in two by a large aquarium with exotic
fish. It had to be forty feet long, three feet wide, and six feet
deep, almost reaching to the ceiling on its pedestal, making one
side a vestibule of sorts. Martin led us to the other side where
his father sat with several other diplomats from his and other
councils sat talking. Everyone stood when we came in.

“Master McClure, welcome,” called Cahill,
smiling warmly at us, reaching out his right hand to Kieran. Martin
stepped to the side to allow us to pass him. I was pretty sure he
was going to try to slip away unnoticed. Wasn’t going to let that
happen, of course. What to do, what to do…

“Thank you, Ambassador Cahill,” said Kieran,
stepping forward and in a clearly precognitive moment, answered my
upcoming dilemma by swinging his arm around Martin’s shoulder,
spinning him back around and dragging him with us. And he made it
look elegant and choreographed. I had to remember to be on my guard
on social occasions around Kieran. Good to know. Funny to watch and
I was glad it wasn’t me.

“Martin was just telling us about his home.
It sounds like a wonderful place to grow up,” said Kieran almost
beaming at the man as he disentangled his arm to shake hands.

“You actually got him to talk to you?” Cahill
asked, feigning astonishment. “You are a miracle worker, McClure!”
Several people around the room laughed in agreement, obviously the
proud parents of teenagers. Yet as I looked into each of them,
there were few that had appeared to have actual issues with their
children. Certainly not Cahill, so I suppose Martin was just
putting the normal teenage slant on his situation.

Cahill turned back to the group and said, “As
much as I would love to indulge you all, I believe that Seth
McClure has most admirably and definitively answered his challenge
and has the right to see his mother. I, for one, will not stand in
his way, so if you will excuse me for a few moments, ladies,
gentlemen…”

Cahill lead us through the party and down a
hallway, where it instantly got quieter. There was low, tranquil
music playing in the background. Cahill stopped at one door, tapped
on the frame, then moved on to the last door on the left and went
in.

The room was an odd tableau. It was cut into
two parts. The front half of the room consisted of two tables and
two cabinets. One table contained food and drinks for the doctors
and nurses. The other table, a round oak table, was covered in
large, oversized tomes of medical, magical history. There were
three people there, searching through the books when we came
in.

The back half contained a bed about three
feet off the floor with a gauzy screen of cool blue but lit from
the ceiling with warm red, purple, and lilac. My mother lay in the
center of the bed, incredibly small, covered with a thin, white
sheet. I tried not to look at first, but really there was no
stopping it. I knew Cahill was talking quietly, saying something I
should be hearing, but my whole world just collapsed into that bed
right then. I didn’t want to think about what the worm had done to
her—I just wanted her back and safe. If Ethan hadn’t grabbed me by
the shoulders and guided me through the gauzy material of the
screen, I would have been a bag of marshmallows on the floor.