Brothers: Legacy of the Twice-Dead God (69 page)

“Ms. O’Rourke,” he started as she slid in to
meet him on the other side. Gordon and I took the outside. “Would
you mind, by way of introductions to my young tongue-tied friend,
you would look at a C.V. rather hastily done on his behalf? He
seems to believe his would be unimpressive.”

“Certainly, Mr. Borland,” Maddie agreed
readily, her aura showing both curiosity and amusement. Peter
pulled open his laptop, turning it toward Gordon and Maddie, then
indicated two keys. He said, “Page Up and Down.”

“What did you put in there?” I asked him
pointing to the back of the laptop as they read. I had no idea of
how much Peter actually knew about me. If I concentrated hard, I
could remember just about anything from his life—I’d stepped
through it twice. But it was a blur otherwise and it felt like I
was kind of violating him to look too hard. Yeah, I know it didn’t
make sense, but that’s how I felt.

“A lot, surprisingly,” he said, grinning at
me. “Colbert kept very good records about who taught what and your
father mirrored everything with certificates signed by the
individuals in question. There’s no question to the authenticity of
any of it. You’ve shown it to me. All I did was cut and paste most
of it and add in the last six months.”

Someone approached from behind me to my left.
What bothered me about that realization was how it came in three
parts. The first was from Peter’s reaction as the woman moved into
his field of vision. He merely looked up as the waitress stepped up
to the table and asked about orders. As she stepped away with drink
orders I asked quietly, “Who is maintaining the privacy
shield?”

Gordon answered distractedly, “ Hm? Uh, the
house. Is that a problem?”

I reached across the table and pushed the
screen down, calling over my shoulder, “Miss! Wait!” I scrambled
out of the booth after her.

“Ma’am, please, I have a question,” catching
up to her when she turned to answer my call. “I don’t want to seem
rude to the proprietor or anything, but we’re going to be
discussing some very private matters. Would it be possible if I
could install my own privacy shields?”

“Certainly, lad,” the middle-aged woman said,
cheerfully if a bit condescendingly. Especially since she thought
she was talking to a tree. She didn’t think I could install a table
lamp, more than likely. Gordon and Maddie looked capable enough to
her, I’m sure, but neither Peter nor I were even a blip on her
radar. When I returned to the table, I had the Stone set up more
stable screening, something I had more confidence with, not
overlaid on the current ward. Nodding to Gordon, he lifted the lid
to the laptop so Maddie and he could continue reading.

“At ten?” Maddie whispered to Gordon. Peter
muttered, “Uh-huh,” while looking around the tavern. “How did he
get Harding to agree?” asked Gordon also in a whisper, tapping a
key.

“Cole Harding?” I asked, thinking back a few
years. “That was a fun trip. Dad taught me to snow ski in Finland,
then we hopped over to Bern to visit the atom smasher a few times
with Mr. Harding. It was pretty cool!” They stared at me over the
top of the laptop, Gordon grinning and Maddie agape. “What?”

“You smashed atoms with Cole Harding?” Maddie
asked in disbelief.

“Well, not personal ones, but yeah,” I said,
feeling the blush rise in my face while Peter and Gordon snickered.
Maddie slapped at Gordon’s face lightly as he ducked his head into
her shoulder to hide from me. I could feel the waitress heading
toward us so I relaxed the shield and let her in. She set her tray
on the corner of the nearly square table.

“That’s a right good wall you have there,
lad,” she said as she handed out the drinks. “We didn’t even feel
it come up or know it was there till we didn’t see ya here a moment
ago.”

“Thanks,” I said, appreciating the compliment
as it was intended. I re-established the shield when she left,
sending a slight charge down the three listening spells that had
dropped off of her. A fat man in greasy whites passed the kitchen
door as he jumped, yelling obscenities and banging at his apron
with a sauté pan. I was just happy that none of them were hers and
returned my attention to the table.

“There’s no mention of Arts training…” Maddie
trailed away when she hit a key. “He’s that McClure?” She turned on
the bench to face Gordon, then turned her head to Peter and said,
“That means the two of you are half… Oh, God, Gordon, what have you
got me into?”

“So what do you think?” asked Peter coyly.
“Would Seth’s C.V. pass muster?”

“Honestly?” Maddie looked at Peter wide-eyed.
“Looking at this, I’d say he was absolutely unemployable.”

Peter was stricken. I felt vindicated—my
feelings were a bit hurt, but I was vindicated. Even Gordon looked
put out by Maddie’s decree.

“What? Why?” asked Peter, almost shrilly.

“It’s too good,” she said. “From an
employer’s standpoint, it would be highly unlikely that the return
would match the investment necessary to keep him, especially
long-term. Looking at his education, I would have to keep him
dancing through five to eight projects at a time just to keep his
interest up and that’s just not viable in today’s corporate
structures. That, and he’s just too young for that kind of a
commitment.

“That’s in this world. In our world, things
are different. He’s got a huge theoretical advantage in his
education, but he lacks training in even the basics. I assume he
was home schooled?” Peter shook his head no. “Yet he was
instrumental in contests at MacNamara’s Games this year,
fantastically so, according to my brothers.”

“I had help,” I said defensively.

“This would probably be good enough to get
you on the councils,” she said turning to me, smiling, “but not as
the head just yet. Shall we look at yours, Mr. Borland?”

“Mine is very much like yours, Miss
O’Rourke,” Peter said with a smile, swapping his laptop for a thick
stack of files that Gordon had given him in the van.

“Except for that last part, right?” she
asked, leaning back in the booth and sipping her water.

“I rode in on coattails,” he said, smiling
wanly, as he read through the file marked Madeline O’Rourke on the
tab. It was purely for show since we’d already gone through her
file earlier.

“Don’t you believe it,” I said, causing
Maddie to giggle.

“So what’s the plan here, Gordon?” she asked,
turning back to him. “They’re out of my league, clearly. I’d be no
better off with them than at home.”

“God, Maddie, they’re looking for an aide,
not a wife,” said Gordon, exasperated. This obviously wasn’t going
according to his plan. He had some affection and sympathy for the
woman and I liked her on a personal level, but I think the four of
us had already decided the fit wasn’t right.

“Have you considered Gaelan?” Maddie asked
Gordon.

Gordon nodded. “And Kellan. They had a row
with their Dad again, accordin’ to Audra. Been outta touch for a
few weeks, the both of ‘em. I’ve got appointments set up with
James, Dane, and Reece. Short notice, ya know?”

“Then I shouldn’t keep you,” she said
brightly. “I think I’ve showed my arse enough for one day.” I
thought it was generally the interviewer that called an end to a
meeting, but she did have a point. Bringing down the shield, I
stood up and we waited a polite distance away. We said good-bye at
the table with Gordon’s more personal than ours. Peter and I gave
him a few moments while I slipped our waitress and proprietor a few
hundred pounds for the use of her table.

In the van, Gordon said, “If she’d ever learn
to listen, that’d lass would be a force to be reckoned with.”

“I’ll say,” said Peter, grinning. “She ‘bout
knocked you down on the sidewalk.”

“Mr. Cahill,” Billy said softly and nodded
slightly forward.

Startled, Gordon turned the visor down and
pulled out a comb, adjusting the mirror to view his hair, except it
didn’t need combing. We turned right on a main road as Gordon
continued fussing. Peter and I exchanged quick glances,
confused.

“I see them,” Gordon said, snapping the visor
up. “In a lorry, three cars back.”

“Is there a problem?” I asked, not
understanding what was going on.

“Somebody’s tailing us,” said Peter. “Why?
And who?”

“Is there any reason I can’t turn around and
look?” I asked. “You were being so careful, after all… Oh, never
mind, there’s one in front of us, too.” Bright flares of two
powerful auras sat in a blue sedan a short distance up the road
from us. Another one sat in a beige convertible waiting to turn
onto the road we were on at the intersection we were passing
through. “I think the lorry will turn right here, then show up
again in a few blocks,” I said, getting the feel of traffic flow in
my head, mapping it out like Ethan had on the airplane. It was
simple to see what they were doing now, boxing us in. We just had
to break out before they closed the lid tight.

“He’s right,” said Billy. The lorry turned
right. There were four men in the delivery truck, not particularly
powerful magically speaking. Even with the buildings in the way, I
could feel them speeding and swerving through traffic to catch up
to us. The beige convertible sped up, too, and pulled up even at
the next light. I turned on the bench to the seat behind me,
grabbing our briefcases and hauling them over the top of the
seat.

Peter took his and we popped them open almost
simultaneously as the van pulled forward. I loaded the jacket
pockets with the two backup phones and the wallet with all the
money and my passport, then slid the jacket onto the seat. Peter
made similar arrangements with his belongings. He also placed a
thin gray plastic block inside with my laptop. He had a twin of it
on his, so I assumed it did something nasty to uninvited guests and
snapped the lid closed.

“He saw that, you know,” said Gordon from the
front seat.

I shrugged, “So? We’re on a business trip,
right? We sorted through our briefcases for a moment. Nothing
exceptional about that. Where do you think they’ll spring their
trap?”

“Soon,” muttered the driver. “Park about
three blocks up. This road veers off to the right into residential
in two more. Lorry’s blocked us in already.”

“Okay,” I said, thinking about it. “Gordon,
do you want to fight or make a run for it?”

Little Brother, Seth’Dur’an o’an.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed. “What was that?
Kieran?”

“Yes,” said Peter as shocked as I was.
“That’s Kieran calling us.”

The castle is under attack. Destroy your
phones. Call me on my backup.

Gordon’s cellphone sat on the dash of the van
and started ringing. Peter reached out with a fine tendril of power
and fried the shiny gizmo just as Gordon reached to answer it. The
convertible roared past us just as the left lane ended, switching
lanes suddenly. The sedan was four cars up and slowing to turn into
the park. I needed these yahoos out of the way so I could find out
what was going on with Kieran. The question of fight or flight
became a matter of which was more expeditious. Probably flight, I
decided, but not necessarily, as we had no idea how many there
really were. Regardless, I wanted them off balance, so I skipped
the van ahead of the sedan.

“What the fuck!” yelled Billy, shocked and
totally confused.

“Sorry, Billy, just keep straight. My fault,
that,” I said. “Take the next right.”

The convertible caught sight of us speeding
up dramatically while the sedan didn’t and continued turning. The
lorry kept coming, too, speeding up as much as a step van could.
Hoping I timed this right, I pictured the sheet of shielding and
ramp I wanted, fairly short, rising up and curling to one side. It
looked good in my imagination. As Billy braked the van, I pushed
with the Stone’s power and created shields on the road matching my
mental image. The driver slammed on his brakes to make the turn
with us but lost all traction on my shield. Keeping his inertia,
the car hit the ramp, climbed rapidly into the air, then flipped
off the road into the nearby trees, turning at least three
revolutions before crashing. I pulled the shield ramp up
immediately, before another car hit it.

“That was so cool!” yelled Gordon. “I have no
idea what you did, but it was cool as hell!”

“Don’t get too happy, yet, Gordon,” Peter
said, grinning along with him.

“There’s still the four in the step van and
two in the sedan left,” I said, turning back toward the front. We
needed some space to work with and without bystanders. I didn’t
want innocents hurt. Well, at least people innocent of wanting to
hurt me.

The “accident” behind us had stopped traffic
in both lanes on that road, but the lorry was still close behind
us. Ahead of us, I could see the sedan turn onto our road. The
passenger was probing the astral plane, searching for us. I risked
being branded a one-trick-pony and shoved another ramp in front of
the sedan. This time, as the car shot into the air, I added a
little fire to its gas tank. It must have been low on fuel because
the explosion wasn’t as big as I’d hoped.

“Boo-yah!” Gordon yelled, boisterously.

“They got out,” muttered Billy, as two
vaguely human-shaped energy cocoons crashed into the trees beyond
the still rolling car.

“Yeah, I see,” I said mildly, leaning over
between them. “Pull over. We gotta finish this.”

The step van had pulled off near the fireball
and they were beating the bushes for the bodies. Figure of speech,
really, since there were two helping each damaged wizard up to
their feet. Everybody knew where everybody was now, but none of us
knew all of why. They knew why I’d killed a man and destroyed two
cars and I knew how I’d done it. We didn’t feel the need to be
particularly threatening so the three of us just walked up the
road. Of course, the Stone had a nice solid thick shield
surrounding us by then. Billy stayed with the van after pulling an
incredibly large handgun from under his seat. He cradled the weapon
against his forearm and stood near the open driver’s door,
waiting.