Brothers: Legacy of the Twice-Dead God (57 page)

“Please, Ehran, the pleasure is all mine,”
Mother said, smiling back at him. “I must say you are a far cry
from the images of the lanky youth your father gave me, but you
have his smile.”

“I look forward to seeing that smile again
soon,” Kieran said, optimistically.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Mother said. “Robert
didn’t tell me about what happened between you, only that he
regretted it deeply.”

“Once we find him, we can build a better
relationship. One without the regrets,” assured Kieran.

“And you remember Peter,” I said, moving down
the sofa a little, like a miniature procession.

“It’s good to see you again, Mrs. McClure,”
Peter said. He moved in for a light handshake, but Mother swept in
for a hug. He was comfortable with that, too, and hugged her back.
“It’s good to see you up and about, ma’am,” he said softly. “We
were so worried about you.” Both of their auras were in emotional
turmoil.

“Thank you, dear, it’s good to see you, too,”
she managed to get out as she pulled away, wiping away tears again
and smiling.

“And this is Ethan,” I said, stopping. He
just stood there grinning at me impishly. “Ethan, Ehran, and I have
a complicated relationship.” It was all I could think of.

Ethan snorted and snickered, “Hello, Mrs.
McClure, it is a pleasure to meet you at last. I feel like I’ve
known you all my life.” He took Mother’s hand and lightly kissed
her knuckles.

“Not funny, Ethan,” I muttered under my
breath. He just snickered more as he released her hand, smiling at
us, his eyes dancing across her face. For her part, Mother just
looked confused, but gracefully accepted him.

“Shrank, if you want to be introduced, you’re
going to have to come out of hiding,” I said, spotting him on the
sofa behind Ethan. He took to the air, flashing into visibility
almost instantly. Mother started a bit at his sudden appearance,
but relaxed when he stopped a few feet out, giving her ample room
to see him.

“And this is Shrank, our pixie-in-residence,”
I said.

“My pleasure, ma’am. You’ve raised a
remarkable son,” he squeaked out, bouncing in the air in a
semblance of a bow.

“Thank you, Shrank,” Mother said, “His father
and I are quite proud of him.”

Shrank flitted away again, his attention
caught by something else in the room, though he never moved too far
away from us. Mother chuckled a little at him as he bounced from
place to place.

“We spent fifteen years hiding you from this
world,” she said, almost in an off-hand way, “And here you are
falling head-long into it in less than six months.”

Cahill choked on the brandy he was drinking
then broke out laughing hard. Mother looked at him with raised
eyebrows. Gordon was at his side, worried that he was still
choking, then confused by the laughter. He got himself back under
control and looked up at us again. Then broke out laughing again,
holding up three fingers.

“Oh,” I said softly, “He’s laughing about the
‘six months.’ It’s only been a few weeks. And actually Shrank
joined us a few days after I met Ehran.”

“Olivia, dear, you think the pixie is
something?” Cahill said, still choking back laughter, “I think
there is one man left to introduce you to, yet.” He stood up from
the wing-backed chair he was sitting in, patting his son’s shoulder
affectionately. The Cahill’s had moved farther back in the big room
to give us some space for our reunion and introductions, but now it
was time to move together.

“A very short story, mainly because I don’t
know most of it,” he said as he stepped across the room, “two weeks
ago, I saw a scared little boy walk into a room filled with people
who, by rights, could squash him like a bug on the ground. I
watched as the two biggest, meanest bullies picked on him because
he was the smallest and weakest one there. And I watched him stand
up to both of them and send them packing, noses bloodied. Then
later I saw the most vile monster in the world offer the most vile
deal in the world to this scared little boy: his life against his
mother’s. The odds were two hundred to one against him, but he
accepted, or his brother did, thinking to keep the boy out of the
fight. That didn’t work, though, did it, Ehran?”

Kieran shook his head no. He didn’t want to
interrupt Cahill’s discourse, curious to see where he was
going.

Cahill continued, “The boy did have a
terrible decision to make there, one I wish my children will never
have to make: who lives and who dies. I think he did well. It’s
hard to say at what point a boy becomes a man, when honor and
nobility become so ingrained that action becomes a need rather than
a desire. Sometime in the last three weeks, it happened,
though.

“You can stop seeing him as your little boy,
Olivia,” Cahill said, sliding his arm across her shoulders. “See
Seth for the man he’s become. Show her, Seth.”

I gawked at him for a moment, then
acquiesced. I called for the armored form, letting the weapons know
it was just for show. I didn’t want them thinking I was going to
fight with my mother, after all.

She gasped, wide-eyed, staring at me.

“You know, I really have no idea what this
looks like,” I said, scratching the back of my head.

“Big,” Mother said.

“Scary,” said Cahill.

“Two swords?” asked Mother, starting to
circle around me, looking.

I looked down at my waist, at the swords
hanging there. “Well,” I said, “They have different
specialties.”

“And on your back?” Mother asked.

“The Crossbow and Quiver,” I answered. “For
distance and accuracy. The Bolts aren’t as strong as the Swords in
most cases, but some are more so. They’re incredibly powerful
tools, though.”

I felt a gentle tug of magic use from the far
end of the room as Gordon lifted something off the ground and came
toward us. He guided something through the furnishings like a sled.
Halfway through, we saw the mirror. We helped by walking further
into the room.

“You said you hadn’t seen your armor, so…” he
said shyly as he set the mirror down and stepped back. He was a lot
like Martin.

“Thank you, Gordon,” I said, looking at my
reflection. The green and black diamond hatch pattern
reflected in the light like diamonds and gave me a muscled
appearance to match Ethan’s. The extra bands around my knees made
me look knock-kneed and I was pretty sure I’d seen my head on a
Saturday morning cartoon about robotic trucks that talked. The dark
green of the Quiver looked a little odd against the harlequin
costume but that was of no concern to me. I was amazed at how sleek
the whole ensemble seemed.

“May we see one?” Gordon asked, pointing to
my waist.

“Oh, sure,” I said, pulling the Day Sword
from its scabbard. It shone brightly in the light, living up to its
name. Gordon stepped closer, his curiosity overcoming his
nervousness of me. I handed him the Sword, hilt first, for a closer
look. “Don’t actually touch the blade,” I warned him.

“Where did you get these?” Mother asked
me.

“Ehran and Ethan gave them to me,” I said,
slowly, “to protect me, after the elves attacked.” I sent
everything home except the Day sword that Gordon was still looking
at and taking an experimental swing occasionally. “I’ve had a busy
three weeks, Mom.”

“Martin will be so jealous of ya,” Cahill
said to Gordon, chuckling deep in his chest.

“Aye,” said Gordon, grinning at his father.
“Won’t ‘e, though.”

“Oh, Seth, put that away before he hurts
himself,” Mrs. Cahill said. The first thing she’d said all night
that I’d heard.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, grinning. I called Day,
making sure it wouldn’t hit anything on the way to me, and sent it
home, checking to make sure everything was safe and sound in my
cavern.

“Felix, now that the dangerous toys are put
away,” Mrs. Cahill said to her husband, “I think I’ll retire for
the night. Let you men talk about fast cars and big knives and
such. No loose women, though. Gordon may be a man, but he’s still
my little boy.” That brought a general round of chuckles and a
slight reddening to Gordon’s face.

“I’ll walk up with you, Enid,” said Mother,
“I expect to hear all about what you’ve been up to in the last
three weeks tomorrow, Seth.” She kissed me lightly on the cheek.
“Good night, gentlemen, Felix.” She and the Lady Cahill left the
room. I could see the bindings that streaked through her mind,
wrapping through her memories. The turmoil her time with St. Croix
had caused beating against the rest of her life, holding it hostage
against the Pact. Maybe Mr. Cahill’s speech had planted a seed in
her mind that St. Croix was gone, that we were safe from him, and
she would unlock the Pact and free herself.

“She’s doing much better,” said Cahill,
softly, at my side, breaking me out of my melancholy. “She’s still
having night terrors and her memory is still very splotchy, but
she’s improving daily.”

“I can’t thank you enough for what you’re
doing, Mr. Cahill,” I said, staring out the empty doorway. “And I
completely ignored your wife, I’m so sorry.”

“Think nothing of it, Seth,” he said, “Enid
won’t.”

I turned and looked for Gordon. One huge
social gaff was sufficient for the evening. “Gordon, I do apologize
for ignoring you in your own home,” I said, walking up to him with
my hand outstretched. “It’s good to meet you. I’m Seth.”

“Good to finally met you, too,” he said, his
voice lilting more than his father’s. “Martin hasn’t shut up about
you since he and Da got back.”

It was my turn to blush. “I’m sure he was
exaggerating,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said, wide-eyed, “I thought so,
too. Till Da told even bigger tales and Gill confirmed those, and
Jerry swears he was at the top of the Arena when the Winter
Princess flew by, an inch from his head.”

“And I only talked about the things that
happened in public,” said Cahill, chuckling, pouring another
brandy.

“Bigger than that?” Gordon said, awed.

“Son, there are some things that are better
left unsaid,” Cahill said, wagging a finger at us, “These guys are
doing them.”

“And you’ve only known about this for three
weeks?” Gordon asked me.

I nodded. “I wouldn’t lie to my mother,” I
said. “She can always tell.”

“Did something happen at the airport?” asked
Cahill.

“Yes, why?” Kieran asked cautiously.

“I had the most interesting phone
conversation about twenty minutes after you landed,” Cahill said.
“From Clifford Harris. He was rather panicked, really. I had
difficulty understanding what he wanted. Well, that’s what I told
him anyway. I also told him that I would ask you to call in the
morning and discuss whatever happened at your convenience. I
assumed that if it had been of any real significance, either my
people at the airport or Diego would have contacted me
immediately.”

The four of us exchanged glances. “The trip
over?” I asked.

“Nah, had to be the curse,” said Ethan.

“Why would he be panicked over that?” asked
Kieran. That confused all of us.

“Curse?” asked Cahill, an obvious prompt for
information.

“Oh, yes, Seth found a curse that was
previously thought dormant on one of Harris’ men,” said Kieran. “We
disposed of it for him. I wouldn’t think that would be a problem
for Harris.”

“No, but it would explain his panic,” Cahill
said, his complexion pale. “This curse, it was on Calhoun?”

“Yes,” answered Kieran, thoughtfully. “Do you
have one, too, Felix?”

He sighed heavily. “I believe so.”

“Show us where, if you please,” asked Kieran,
sternly. Standing up from the sofa, he started searching Cahill’s
body for the curse. Cahill dropped trou, showing the brand just
above his left knee, inside thigh. I dove into the foam around the
brand, feeling the energies there, again surveying the space to
create a map. Cahill’s flows were far more intricate to follow,
even that far down in his body. The body can help greatly with
controlling energies and Cahill was far more adept than Calhoun. I
pulled out without seeming to interfere with anything. I could
still clearly see the energy mark there, though.

“So, all you see is the scar from the brand?”
I asked.

“Yes, it looks totally dormant to me,” Cahill
said.

I cast the curse out into the astral plane up
over our heads, then cast a copy of Calhoun’s out next to it.
Easier than it sounds when you just imagine a couple of mirrors and
a giant magnifying glass. Just line everything up and bam, instant
big screen.

“The curses aren’t the same,” said
Kieran.

“But the brands are,” I said, looking at the
scar. “Was that the ‘cure’? The brand?”

“Aye,” answered Cahill. “Before that, the
curse was visible.”

“Well, it certainly slowed it down,” I
admitted. “It destroyed a number of power structures, which seems
to be what has helped keep it in abeyance for so long. There’s no
telling how long that’ll keep, though.”

“It’s genetic,” said Peter, from behind us,
looking up over our head.

“Peter’s right,” agreed Ethan, “The part
that’s different is genetic. Insect, of some sort. The rest is
mostly the same as the other with some almost natural
modifications.”

“What will it do? Aneurysm?” Peter asked.

“At least,” muttered Kieran. “With someone
like Felix, it could mean an explosion in an eight to ten foot
radius at worst.”

“The Night can excise it directly,” I said to
Kieran. “Assuming we don’t need to see it.”

“No, you go ahead,” said Kieran, absently,
switching to the astral forms with Ethan and Peter.

I looked at the two nervous Cahills. Gordon
didn’t know what was happening and Felix was just beginning to
understand. The problem was that magic isn’t water. The power
structures in the curse may be damaged and leaking energy like a
sieve, but that didn’t mean the structures couldn’t accrue the
energy anyway—they were doing it. The energy didn’t seep out like
water through a crack in a dam. The damage just meant that the
power could seep out. Originally, I bet it burst out rapidly but
over time Felix’s body made adjustments that walled the curse in
and made the flow out a little more difficult, letting it back up
into the curse. That turned him into a walking time bomb. Light the
fuse at the wrong time and Kieran’s prediction meant he could hurt
or even kill people. Or Felix may die of natural causes and the
curse would fade with time.