Brothers: Legacy of the Twice-Dead God (113 page)

“And assuming that we are to believe every
aspect of the history you have projected, you have completed your
goals now and received quite a bonus, while we collectively have
lost much. What do we get out of this? The political good will of a
Faery king we didn’t know existed before today? We’ve even lost the
opportunity of political summits on neutral territory now. For that
matter, what proof do we have that any of what we just witnessed
was not an elaborate setup for our benefit and that you aren’t
being controlled by the elves and installed into our hierarchies as
their spy?” He shrugged broadly, spreading and splaying his hands
out on the table in front of him.

Both Ethan and I started laughing. Bishop and
Harris didn’t think it was funny, though. Peter was amused, but the
Cahills were ticked at Marchand, Gordon to the point that he was
about to jump the table and bash Marchand’s head repeatedly into
the table. All the underlings around us were just confused as to
why we laughed. Ethan was punching me in the arm after a minute,
trying to calm us both down.

“Marchand,” I stammered, still laughing. “I
can’t answer most of that because frankly, I don’t know. I can say
that my loyalties haven’t changed in six hours and unless I’m very
much mistaken, both Harris and Bishop got exactly what they were
hoping for out of the exchange today: a powerful enemy removed from
the war. Unless your speculation that this is a charade is true.
You have done an admirable job of fomenting suspicion, I
admit.”

“You arrived after Seth sent us back, didn’t
you, Mr. Marchand?” Ethan asked.

“Really?” I asked Ethan, drawing the word
down as I turned to face him. “I didn’t know that. I assumed he
came in with Bishop’s group. Marty, how did Marchand arrive
tonight?”

“Airport limousine service,” Marty said.
“John had to go down and unlock the gate himself. Devilish double
locking system there.” He grinned, his aura crackling brightly at
the memory.

“Où avez-vous été pour les trois jours,
Monsier Marchand?” I asked him. I knew he was Belgian so I assumed
French Belgium.

“What?”

I switched languages, “Waar ben je geweest
voor de drie dagen?” Admittedly, both were rather textbook versions
than conversational. I’d had more practice in Fairy languages than
Dutch as strange as that is to say.

He shook his head, “No, I mean, why are you
asking?”

“I just find it curious that you use ‘we’ in
the delivery of your speech, yet all you’ve done is bully and
blame. And always after the fact. Dunstan’s, Grammand, here.
Grammand’s was a battle summit with a whole lot of powerful people
there. Your absence was conspicuous. It seems odd that the leader
of the European Council be out of contact with his people in a time
of war with unknown enemies. Yet you were. Why is that Mr.
Marchand?”

“I was on personal business,” he said
stiffly. His aura was guarded and getting angry with me.

“Personal business?” I asked, pressing in on
him. “Well, that answers that. Oh, wait, I was on personal business
when Bishop found me in London. Bishop found me, but he couldn’t
find you. He’s only known me for a few days, barely even knows my
name, arranged transportation across three countries, but you? You,
he can’t find for three days and I guarantee you I can go more
places that he can’t find than you can.”

I leaned back in the chair, steepling my
fingers together and glancing up to my mother’s room in the
infirmary. I asked Ethan, “Would you mind getting Kieran and Dad
please? It looks like Mom’ll be waking up in about twenty or so
minutes and I’d like us to be there when she does.”

His blue eyes shined like there were stars
behind them as he said, “So soon?” He disappeared from the room and
I could have sworn he was happier than I was. I wrote it off to
tiredness as I watched Enid slip out of the room more
conventionally, through the door. I turned my attention back to
Marchand.

“Be glad that I am not a member of your
council, Marchand,” I told him, no longer hiding my dislike for the
man. Still, I don’t think he quite got it. Mages relied heavily on
reading auras to the point that reading body language and facial
expressions were Sanskrit written in Phoenician characters backward
and upside down. “Because I would be pushing hard to have you
removed from office.”

“I’m working on that,” Bishop said calmly.
Marchand’s head snapped to Bishop immediately, shocked for some
reason. I certainly couldn’t fathom why.

“What?” he cried.

Bishop reached into the portfolio sitting on
the table before him and pulled out a large dark tan envelope. He
tossed the envelope onto the table in front of Marchand, closing
the portfolio again. Marchand ripped open the envelope and began
reading the sheaf of papers within.

Ethan popped in behind me. “They were
fighting!” he cried, almost yelling. “Can you believe that?
Fighting!” I let my head fall back and looked at him sideways,
grinning. I’d been expecting it, really, and it was probably a good
thing as long as one didn’t kill the other. “They haven’t seen or
talked to each other in over forty years. They’re alone for twenty
minutes and they get into a fistfight? Shoot ‘em! Arghh! Idiots!”
Everyone in the room, except Marchand, burst into laughter.
Marchand kept reading.

Kieran and Dad appeared arm-in-arm in the
doorway of the dining room, both smiling broadly, their faces
beaten and bleeding.

“He’s got a killer right hook, eh, Kieran?” I
said, grinning at them.

“How can you do this? Especially now?”
Marchand yelled, slamming his hand on the papers on the table and
standing, glaring down at Bishop. He turned slowly back to
Marchand.

“Pages three through seven,” he said, then
pointed to me. “Basically, what he said.”

“You can’t do this! You yourself said we’re
at war! You cannot destroy our chain of command in the middle of a
war!” he yelled. I didn’t think it was possible to yell and plead
at the same time but somehow he managed.

“Louis,” Bishop snapped, “even if you are not
guilty of wrong-doing, you have been a useless fop for the last
five years. And there is absolutely no excuse for you being out of
contact since Dunstan’s. Period. The Council meets in three days
time.”

Without saying another word, Marchand stormed
out of the room, his lap dog, Murrik, hot on his tail.

Bishop let out a long slow breath. “I hate
politics,” he said.

“How did he get in charge, anyway?” Gordon
asked.

“He actually ranks pretty high in power and
magic use,” Bishop said.

“And he probably got his knees pretty dirty,
too,” Peter said quietly. The room burst into laughter, except for
Ethan and me. We were just confused by the comment. Had to be
sexual then. Even Marty was laughing. Maybe I could get Dillon to
buy me some books and movies that might catch me up on the
vernacular and such. Of course, that might be asking for
trouble.

“Mr. Harris,” I said. “What do you need
tonight?”

“Um, nothing?” he said, smiling for once.
“Some time to figure out what is going on mostly. I do agree that
you have lived up to you part of today’s agreement. And that
neither of us owes the other anything from today, um, outside of
perhaps general goodwill?”

“You have our thanks for helping my son, Mr.
Harris, certainly,” Dad said, coming up behind me and holding the
back of my chair.

“Was that an artillery bombardment?” I asked,
recalling the sounds of the first few explosions in the Arena.

Harris was still smiling as he said, “Well,
actually yes, it was.”

“Targeting was a little wide at times. Was
something interfering with the portals?” I was mostly curious to
see how much he’d tell me.

“We were stealing them,” he said, laughing.
“A couple of battleships, a few foreign armies—there are military
exercises going on everywhere in the world at one time or another.
We just had to get the right people in place at the right time and
some very nice things can happen.”

“See?” Peter said beside me. “Technology can
be a good thing. Getting the people in place, timing the people,
finding the places, there was a lot of sophisticated technology
involved there. Computers, in other words. And then multiple
talents were used. We’ve got to find a way to stop magical
interference on electronics. At least, unintentional
interference.”

“But not tonight,” I said, patting his
shoulder and standing. “Mr. Bishop, anything else?”

“Only to say that the European Council
formally agrees with the United States Council in the spirit of its
statement if not its practices,” Bishop said, calmly gathering the
sheaf of papers Marchand left on the table. “Oh, and I agree with
you—you need a shower.” He grinned at me, tapping the papers
together and shoving them haphazardly into his portfolio.

Still smiling and nearly exhausted himself,
Gordon lifted a half-asleep Martin out of his chair. “Oof!” he
grunted and mumbled to his father, “Kid’s heavier than he looks.”
Felix chuckled and turned back to us.

“Gentlemen, we’ll leave you to your reunion
in private,” Felix said, cheerfully but tiredly. “It has been a
long day for all of us, so we’ll be retiring now. Enid went ahead
to make some preparations for you. I suspect you will sleep in
tomorrow, in any case.”

“Thank you, Felix. Good night, then,” I said.
“Good night, Gordon, and again, thank you for all of your help. I
couldn’t have gotten my father and mother back without it. Good
night, Mr. Bishop, Mr. Harris.”

I was about to move us to the infirmary, just
outside my mother’s room, when Ethan beat me to it. He was very
close to where I would have put us, too. Sitting down beside her
bed, I filled a small paper cup with water from a rolling table
nearby just as she started to stir. There were plenty of weaknesses
in her system right now, but certainly nothing that time couldn’t
heal with rest or exercise. Finally.

And finally, after close to a year, I was
going to have my parents back.

“Seth?” Mother whispered through a dry
throat, snapping me out of my reverie. I stooped over her bed,
offering the little paper cup.

“Morning, sunshine,” I said easily and
softly, smiling. Pressing the cup to her lips, I said, “Drink a
little water for me.” She sipped slowly, taking in maybe a third of
the cup, gagging slightly at the now-unfamiliar act of swallowing.
I could feel Dad at my back, watching and worried, knowing it was
taking quite a bit of self-control to keep him near the door.

“It’s gone,” Mother said quietly. I knew the
“it” she referred to.

“Yes, we found the key,” I said, gently. “Are
you ready for your surprise, then? I promise it’s a good one.” Dad
was already moving to the bed at the word, “ready.” Not that I
blamed him.

“Olivia?” he whispered hoarsely, tears
streaming down his face again.

“Bobby?” she replied, trying to rise. I’d
never heard her refer to Dad by that diminutive before, always as
“Robert.”

“Easy there, Mom. You’re still weak,” I
cautioned as I slipped a hand behind her shoulders and back to
support her attempt to sit up. Peter came around behind me and
adjusted the bed, so that she could sit upright while Kieran picked
up the second chair and moved it around to Dad on the other side of
the bed. I released her as Dad’s arms swung around to hug and hold
as tightly as he dared. I fell back in the chair and let them have
a few moments.

Enid appeared in the doorway on the heels of
the Gaelic doctor I’d argued with. “Robert,” Enid said casually,
coming into the room. “Felix and I, on occasion, found it necessary
in Gordon’s later teenaged years to remind him of certain
necessities of daily life that needed attention. As much as we
believed he knew, they do believe they’re indestructible at that
age.” Then she slipped away down the hallway. While I knew what she
said, I had no idea what she meant.

“Seth,” Dad said, amused, across the bed,
“she’s saying you need to go to bed, son. You’re exhausted and from
what little I’ve seen you should be. We’ll be here when you get
up.”

“Yeah, but will I?” I mumbled, standing up.
“I’m sorry, Mama, but they’re right. I’m exhausted. I should head
for bed before I pass out in this chair, so I’ll leave you in Dad’s
care for a while.” She was still a little lost in the situation.
Time would heal that quickly. I leaned over and kissed her forehead
lightly, noticing how badly I needed a shave. “Good night,
Dad.”

Kieran moved us this time, each to our rooms.
Glancing through the walls as I walked to the bathroom, it looked
like we all had the same feeling: dirty. All four of us were
heading for the showers. I turned on the water and started shedding
clothes. Stepping in, the warm water cascaded down my body, heating
muscles I didn’t remember having and reminding me of exactly how
hard the day had been. I scrubbed off the dirt and grime first, but
I couldn’t talk myself into leaving too quickly.

“You haven’t fallen asleep, have you?” Peter
called through the glass door.

“No,” I answered sluggishly. “This just feels
too good.” I cut off the water and opened the shower door. Peter
held out a towel for me then stepped out of the bathroom, leaving
me to my naked privacy. I followed a moment later with a dry towel
wrapped around my waist. Kieran sat on my bed and Ethan sat in the
chair in the corner. Peter handed me a tee shirt and shorts.

“Peter, you are a disturbing individual,”
Ethan said, tossing a piece of paper into the air and setting it on
fire. I laughed while Peter once again looked haughty.

“It worked, though,” he said smugly, sitting
on the dresser.

“We are concerned that you may decide to
disappear again in the night and we won’t be able to find you,”
Kieran said, evenly. Emotionally, his aura was far less even.