Brothers: Legacy of the Twice-Dead God (50 page)

“At the moment, the only ones I’m certain
that are left,” Kieran answered ominously, “are Seth and
Olivia.”

The Pact. He meant a war against the
Pact.

Damn.

“Remember that there are still many ears
here,” Kieran said, telling me not to blurt out anything.

“But he didn’t tell us anything we didn’t
already know, did he?” I asked. It seemed like a reasonable
question to me.

“No, not really,” admitted Kieran.

“So what do we do now?” I asked.

“While this trip has been quite successful in
a number of ways,” Kieran said, “we are still just shouting in the
darkness. That could have cost Olivia her life and it may yet cost
Father his. We need more information and we need it faster than we
are currently getting it.”

“Well,” said Peter, sitting down on the couch
and pulling on his shoes, “I can get us started on the list you
gave me, but you do have another, quite underused resource in
information gathering.”

“What?” I asked.

Peter pointed over his shoulder with his
thumb at the food bar. I turned and saw Shrank hovering above a
small plate of raspberries. He seemed to be having a hard time
deciding which one he was going to gorge himself on.

“Shrank?” I asked. I wouldn’t last very long
as a fish. I took the bait too easily.

“Yes, Master Seth?” Shrank asked, flying over
to me, abandoning his search for the perfect fruit.

“Peter just said you were an ‘underused
resource in information gathering’,” I said. “Do you know what he
means by that?”

“Not exactly, sir,” he trilled. “But it would
not bother me in the least to be given more work to do, to be more
useful.”

“Okay, we’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “So
what did you mean, Peter?”

Peter grinned and said, “He’s the perfect
spy! He can go just about anywhere, hide in plain sight, learn
technology, to some degree anyway. He can fascinate mundane humans
in a heartbeat and neutralize security cameras by twiddling his
thumbs. I’m tellin’ ya, he’s a perfect spy.”

I looked at Kieran, who looked at me. The
idea had some promise.

“I don’t know about that,” I drawled out
slowly. “That sounds awfully dangerous and he’s awfully small.”

“I can take care of myself,” argued Shrank,
hands on hips and wings fluttering behind him.

“I’m not saying you can’t, Shrank,” I said
defensively, “but spying is a dangerous business. People tend to
kill first and ask questions later in that profession.”

“Let’s just table the idea for now,” said
Kieran. “The idea has merit, but I agree with Seth about not
putting Shrank at unnecessary risk.”

Ethan came back into the room, dressed this
time. “You two should change and eat something. The final solo bout
is going to start soon and ours is right after that. Then we can
get out of this place.”

Kieran and I both went to shower without a
word. I felt Peter start to draw in power from the room as I left,
then Ethan pulled farther out, channeling more into the room. I
didn’t see what they were doing, but I checked my batteries to see
where they stood on power levels. Both were still fairly full but
could be topped off. I started a slight pull as I showered, not
wanting to take anything away from whatever they were doing. I
stopped before I got out of the shower when the batteries neared
the top of my comfort zone. When I came out into the main room, the
others were already out on the balcony. I fixed a plate from the
food bars, complete with the nasty Esteleum that was so good for
you but you had to be threatened with your life to eat it.

Outside, the stadium was fairly full but a
few people still traveled down the aisles. I settled down to eat
with the others and people watch. The perspective of the Arena made
that wonderfully easy, giving you up-close-and-personal views of
everyone you chose to look at. Which of course meant that everyone
else had an equally easy view of us, too. That was a little
disconcerting. Made me wonder what we looked like to other people.
MacNamara equated Kieran to a mannequin earlier. And Kieran said
once that the Pact is not visible to the normally magically-active
humans. The doctors didn’t see the Pact in my mother.

“Kieran?” I asked, “You don’t see the weapons
including what sits with them, but you see my aura, right?”

“Yes,” he answered, turning in his chair to
me.

“Ethan,” I asked, “You don’t see the weapons,
either, but you see my aura as well as what sits with the weapons,
right?”

“Yes,” Ethan said, evenly.

“And you, Peter,” I asked, “just the aura,
like Kieran?” He nodded, chewing. “But you know what I’m talking
about that Ethan sees, right?”

“Not exactly,” said Peter. He was
hedging.

“How are they finding us, then?” I asked
Kieran.

“That would be information that we do not
have,” said Kieran. “But it is unlikely that someone stumbled over
a written list of names. There is only one place that a list like
that may exist. We may go there after the Crossroads.”

“So what do you suppose we look like to other
people right now?” I asked.

Peter snorted, chewing on Esteleum. “Like a
family of gargoyles pigging out on dirt.”

Ethan cracked up, choking back on the water
he was drinking at the moment. Kieran chuckled, saying, “It makes
invisibility and chameleon spells easier, I suppose.”

Martin appeared on the walkway in front of
our balcony with another kid in tow, stopping at our gate. He
pointed at Peter and said something to the kid. Peter and I
exchanged glances and kept watching as they went back and forth for
a moment. Martin kept nodding his head and pointing while the other
kid pointed to something in his hand and shaking his head. Finally,
Peter and I got up and went to the gate.

“Martin,” Peter said, “What’s up?”

Martin jumped a little, then said
respectfully, “Mr. Borland, Mr. McClure, he has some correspondence
for you, Mr. Borland, but it’s Named and won’t respond to you. So
we’re a little confused about what to do with it.”

“Well, for starters, you call us Seth and
Peter,” I said, smiling.

“I’m Peter Borland,” Peter said to the other
boy. “You got something for me?”

“Well, it’s addressed to ‘Peter Borland’ and
Master Cahill says you are he,” the man said. He wasn’t as young as
he first appeared and his build was quite small. If I didn’t know
what elves looked like now, I’d say he looked elfin. “It is not
reacting to you at all,” he said, holding the envelope closer to
Peter.

“Yeah, we’re all having that problem with
Named items, lately,” Peter said, taking the envelope and returning
to his seat. “It’s from Dad.”

“Sorry,” I told the man, “Something to do
with not being visible in the universe. Martin, you wanna come
watch the match with us? I think Ehran’s gonna root for your man,
even.”

“You’re kidding me?” Martin said, grinning
big. “Master McClure wants Ferrin to win?”

“Let’s just say, Ferrin’s the one he’s the
least ticked off at,” I told him.

“Yeah,” he said, “That’s pretty much Da’s
position, too.”

“Two conditions,” I said. “First, you don’t
wear the robes, and two, if it lasts too long, you’ll have to
excuse us when the warden comes. Okay?”

“Okay, let me walk him back and tell Da,” he
said with a smile. “Are you satisfied? It didn’t blow up in his
face or anything. It’s his. Let’s go.” He was almost shoving the
little man along.

“Well,” started Peter, attracting my
attention, “attorneys won’t be a problem. We can just keep the ones
Dad’s hired to start. He’s already filed a half a dozen injunctions
against the Justice Department and Harris, specifically. And those
are just for him. He’s started the paperwork for Ehran and Seth,
but there are a few problems there. Seth is still considered a
minor and well, Ehran was proclaimed dead some time ago. Ethan just
doesn’t exist at all.”

“Hey, I was born here!” objected Ethan. “Er,
there, I mean. Many times, even.”

“Identification won’t be that difficult to
insert,” said Peter, looking up at Kieran. “Actually, if you want
to change your name, that would be a convenient time to do it.”

“Not yet,” said Kieran, thoughtfully.
“MacNamara said when we first got here that someone had asked about
Kieran McClure and another asked about a ‘kovel’ which holds a
relationship to Ethan. I would prefer to investigate those areas
before throwing ourselves out into the public eye so openly.”

“Can we get Mr. Colbert back?” I asked. “He
seemed to know a lot of people.”

“I doubt the old dog would be amenable to
being found just yet,” said Kieran, smirking a bit. “Besides, Artur
is Father’s man for a reason.”

“You’ve said that before, are you ever gonna
tell me what you mean?” I asked.

He laughed, shaking his head no. “Get a
coupla belts into Father and Artur and get them to tell it. It’ll
be far more entertaining! They’ll even do demonstrations of duels
and everything. I can’t do it justice.”

I felt a twinge of jealousy at the
relationship Kieran had with Dad. He had this whole side to his
life that I never got to know about. Hell, Mom, too, for that
matter. It’s not like I was abandoned. I’ve spent a great deal of
time with both my parents. I thought we had a great relationship.
Still have.

“There is some paperwork in the safe at home
that gives me emancipation and enduring power of attorney on my
parents in their absence,” I told Peter. I hadn’t known what it
meant at the time, but it made sense now. He nodded as he reread
the letter from his father.

Peter stopped his pull from the room just as
I felt another pull coming down the aisle. Cahill and Florian were
walking toward us with Martin a step or two behind them, eagerly
poking his head over his father’s shoulder. It wasn’t really a pull
so much as a presence the two men had together. They were obviously
friends of long-standing.

“Mr. McClure!” called Señor Florian from a
few feet away. “Young Martin tells us that you have a hate-hate
relationship with the contestants in the next bout. Could that
possibly be true? You’ve run across our Mr. Ferrin as well?”

“Unfortunately, yes, Señor Florian, in
Atlanta a few days ago. It was not a pleasant experience and it
ended badly for everyone,” I said with a grim smile.

“Yes, one of them tried to give me to an elf
that wanted to kill me,” said Kieran at my side suddenly. “The
other almost killed Ethan, Seth, and me, then broke the peace bond
just now, almost killing six of his own men in the process.” He was
smiling as he said it, but you didn’t have to see his aura to know
it was sarcasm. “The show should start soon. Would you care to join
us? I promise not to get too rowdy.”

As if on cue, the field began changing. The
crowd grew quieter for a few moments, watching in anticipation of
what scene was being built before them. Cahill and Florian
exchanged quick glances but paid more attention to the field like
everyone else. I opened the gate while they were distracted and
Martin slid in and moved around to the far side of me. When the
scene took the obvious form of a city complete with a building site
in the center, Cahill turned to look for Martin and found him on
the other side of me, both of us smiled coyly back at him.

With a wry grin, he said to Florian, “Come,
Diego, it’s seems the matter has been decided for us.”

They joined Kieran and Ethan in the chairs.
Peter joined us and we climbed onto the balcony wall with Martin
between us. The three of us watched in rapt attention as the grass
field turned itself into a small urban sprawl, complete with a
building site for a high-rise something in the center. The crowd
noise had increased by that time. A group of four of MacNamara’s
referees entered the field and started going through it slowly.
After ten minutes, they seemed to be satisfied that it met with
whatever criteria they needed and met up on the far side of the
field again, waiting.

The noise tripled when Harris came jogging
out behind another referee, eyes cast down. He wore his black gi.
About half way out, he looked up and slowed instantly to a walk,
the referee in front slowing to match him a step later. Meeting the
group of four, the fifth referee peeled away, leaving the field.
The noise level again rose as another referee appeared at the
tunnel leading Ferrin out at a jog. Unlike Harris, Ferrin held his
head up the entire time and didn’t slow midway through. He met up
quickly with Harris and the group of four.

“I’ve not seen MacNamara do this before,”
said Cahill.

“He’s done it several times in the past
hundred years,” said Florian. “In ’73 he recreated the Olympic
stadium in Munich. He thought it would be amusing. I heard that
once he recreated the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand to one
side while a bout was occurring.”

“Not terribly subtle, is he?” asked
Kieran.

Cahill barked out a laugh. “He has his
moments, yes.”

On the field, the referees split in twos and
started walking each contestant through the field of battle. It was
larger than every battlefield thus far, taking up half the field
and giving the cityscape two “blocks” to work with. It was cut on
two sides with cross streets with the building-in-progress in the
center. A perpendicular street ran down the center and would
eventually loop around the fake building. As it was, the roads
formed two giant T-structures with nothing joining them except
paths through the construction site. It was obvious where the elf
expected the battle to be performed.

Once they had finished their cursory
inspection of the field, a blue shield wall was erected around the
entire field and between Ferrin and Harris, blocking them from each
other’s sight. The referees made signals to each indicating that
they were to choose their own entry points to the field. Harris
went for the far end road that looked straight down toward the
construction site. Ferrin went for the closest road, parallel to
the construction site. The first bell tolled and the crowd went
wild again.