Brothers: Legacy of the Twice-Dead God (15 page)

“Think about it,” he said, starting on the
bacon. “When most people our age move out it’s for a reason:
college, work, insane parents, something. There’s usually a support
group in there somewhere, whether it’s friends, fraternities,
family. You didn’t have any of that. That was, what, the end of
January?”

“Yeah,” I answered, poking at my eggs
half-heartedly.

“Did you try to call your mom or dad at all?”
he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, eating a little. “You can
still call and get the ‘This subscriber’s voice mailbox is full’
message.”

“Then what?” Peter asked.

Shrugging, I said, “I waited. I shopped,
read, went to movies, whatever I could to pass the time. Even
thought I’d made a few friends. That ended badly. That’s when I met
Kieran.”

Peter listened carefully to everything I said
about Saturday night through this morning. I didn’t hold back on
anything except saying Kieran and Ethan’s real names. I watched the
curiosity rise and fall in his aura as he picked up information. I
looked around the restaurant for a moment. Peter wasn’t the only
person I was reading more easily. Everybody was clearer, sharper.
It had to be Kieran’s see in truth spell affected my vision
permanently. Once I’d finished my story, we paid and left the busy
restaurant.

Once we were back in the car, Peter said,
“Well, there’s not a lot I can add directly. Your whole family, you
included, dropped completely off the radar around the first of the
year, not that any of you were really out there to begin with.
Started freakin’ a lotta people out. Since my dad and yours are
friends from way back, we got a number of people coming our way
asking questions. Dad didn’t know anything. It got him looking
around, too. The Marshals even got involved. Deputy Harris has been
on Dad’s ass for months, threatening all sorts of things he can’t
legally do, but when you’re that high up in a branch of government
that doesn’t exist there’s a lot you can do that isn’t quite
legal.”

“Deputy Harris?” I asked.

“Yes,” Peter said in confirmation. “Why?”

“There was a Deputy Director Clifford Harris
on the list of possibles on Mr. Colbert’s list,” I said, recalling
the name I couldn’t place last night. “And I spoke to a Deputy
Harris on the phone before we were attacked in Huntsville.”

“Curious,” said Peter, considering my
comment. “And the attackers there were mercenary elves?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“That would be against his nature, at least
his reputation,” Peter said. “He hates elves. Not saying it
couldn’t be true, though.”

“I have to help Kieran and Ethan, Peter,” I
said. “They wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for me. I have
to find them.”

“To bad you don’t know this Ethan thing’s
real name,” Peter said. “We might be able to trace a demon that
way.”

“What?” I asked, excitedly. This was
news.

“Names have power,” Peter said. “Once a
demon, or any spirit that’s been bound really, is here, its name
can be used to find or control it. Well, providing you’re strong
enough.”

Kieran said names have power. I remember
that. And the first few times either of them said Kieran’s real
name my sense of Kieran went directly to Kieran. The same with
Ethan. This had a lot of promise. I sat back in the seat, clearing
my mind, pulling in power the way I’d felt everyone else doing it.
I’d only done this once, said his name the right way. He was very
close then, but I felt him. This time, I didn’t know.

“Kir du’Ahn,” I said, calmly but with the
power I had gathered behind it. I stretched my senses out,
following the wave of power I’d just sent into the world. It slowly
dissipated as it rolled miles around. Suddenly, three hundred and
sixty degrees of freedom collapsed into one on the northwest side
of Atlanta and I saw him. I saw Kieran as a fuzzy blob of potential
magical energy in my mind. Then, like a soap bubble in a bathtub,
the image popped and I was back in the car.

I gasped. “They’re here! They’re still in
Atlanta. Give me the map.” I explained to Peter what I had done.
All he heard from me was grumbling, but he did feel the sensing go
out. He felt me reaching. I pegged where I felt Kieran on the map
and started the car. It took us a little over an hour just to get
close to it. We stopped at a Wal-Mart for a pair of binoculars and
a change of clothes for me more suitable to running and hiding.
When we got to the car, I tried again.

“Kir du’Ahn,” I whispered softly, pushing my
voice and power outward. I faced the direction I remembered, but
let the energy go in its circle, unwilling to take chances. He
showed where I thought he should, closer and stronger. But wrong. I
hadn’t seen it before. Maybe it was the distance, but something was
wrong. I held the image as long as I could, but I didn’t see the
problem, only that there was a problem. It left an oddly metallic
taste in my mouth and an acrid smell in my nostrils. Was he hurt?
Was this because of some sort of cage? Neither of them could be
easy to hold, not after what I’d seen them do. Ethan, Ethan was the
key here.

“Eth’anok’avel,” I said, louder this time.
The circle went out. There! He was there beside Kieran, very close,
but he was like a dimple in space—a human-shaped rock. Not like
before when he radiated his presence and life and power. He was
inert now.

“Switch places,” I said to Peter, getting out
of the car. Once we had, I pulled out the map and found the spot
where they were. “There. Get us close to there. I’ve got to
concentrate on getting Ethan awake.”

“What does that mean?” Peter asked, canting
his head right.

“I really have no idea,” I said, looking him
in the eye. “I’m operating on instinct. They’re both there. I have
no idea what or who else is there. It looks like they are hurt.
Ethan… may be able to regenerate. If not, we may have to run like
hell. Just get us close.”

Peter exhaled slowly, then started the car.
Consulting the map, he pulled out onto the main road. I closed my
eyes and started thinking about my problem. Ethan was anchored to
me, locked in place by accident through the Pact magic. Start
there. I opened my eyes and stood in my cavern of magic. My ego had
built a body form for me this time. I stood before my Pact, sitting
on its new Stone foundation. The Crossbow leaned on the Quiver in
front, two Swords gleaming regally on either side. It was a
beautiful and dangerous vision, but not what I was here to see.
Ethan’s anchor was in here somewhere.

I turned and began searching the darkness
around me. What I found surprised me: light. It was a silvery-white
light everywhere I looked, and I looked everywhere. I scoured
through every nook and cranny I could see and found nothing but
myself, my own silvery-white energy surging through my own soul. So
I went back to my center and stared at the Pact. The anchor had to
be in the center.

“We’re turning into a residential area,
Seth,” I heard Peter say, distantly.

Damn, running out of time. These were
constructs in my mind, representing things stored magically
elsewhere. They could be moved. The elven weapons were after Ethan
came, not part of the issue. They dropped down a few feet, leaving
me looking at the Pact sigil’s magic and the Pact itself. I
inspected the sigil and found its power covering the Pact in a
protective sheen so fine I hadn’t noticed it before.

“Eth’anok’avel,” I whispered and the Pact
pulsed slightly, like it was pushing away the power of the name,
everywhere but… there. An extremely small dot of nothingness seemed
to swallow the pulse. That was my link. I had it now. I just had to
figure out how to use it. I felt the car slow and stop, so I pulled
myself out of my cavern.

Peter was watching me, expectantly. “This is
not a good idea,” he said, eyebrows furrowed, nervously looking
around, checking mirrors constantly. “We don’t know why you weren’t
affected by whatever happened to them. We don’t know who or what is
waiting or even if they know we’re coming. This is stupid, Seth. Do
you even know which house?”

I looked up the street directly ahead of us.
“Three streets up, where the houses are just starting development,
there is a ward. They’re down that street, I’d bet, about five
houses down, on the right. The darts never connected because of the
Stone I’ve been carrying around. I’m pretty sure I can change its
shield form to cover the whole car. I’ll try that before we start
moving though, to be sure. And you’re right—this is stupid. Got any
better ideas? I’m listening. ‘Cuz Kieran and Ethan are already hurt
somehow and these people caused it. I have to do something, Peter.
Something!” I was pleading. I did not want to go into that house
where people were trying to hurt me, where people had succeeded in
hurting people a lot stronger and more capable than me.

Peter inhaled and exhaled slowly, looking at
me the whole time. “What do you want to do,” he said softly.

“I found the anchor,” I said, looking in the
direction of the house. There were several houses blocking the
view, though. “But I have to wake Ethan up from whatever they’ve
done. And I don’t know how.”

“Can you travel through his anchor?” Peter
asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “I wouldn’t even know
how to try.”

Shifting my perspective, I stared at the spot
on the Pact, and shrugging, I jumped headfirst into it. I didn’t
bounce back, like I expected. Instead I learned the difference
between one instant and the next—one tiny vibration of an atom in
the sole of my foot against the next—and I was in Ethan’s world. It
was beyond description, but at least I understood the name Kieran
had decided on.

“Eth’anok’avel!” I shouted, thinking I needed
to be overheard here. “Kir du’Ahn needs you. I need you. Wake up!”
I was in front of the Pact again, reset on its new stone
foundations. There was suddenly a light breeze in the cavern.

“Seth?” It was a faint whisper.

“Got him! Stay here,” I said aloud to Peter,
jumping out of the car and moving out onto the hood. In my cavern,
I said, “Ethan, can you hear me?”

“Barely.”

“Listen, you and Kieran were attacked with
darts. I was shielded by the Stone. Can you protect yourself once
you regenerate?”

“Yes.”

“Can you go home from where you are now?”

“No, I cannot see the way,” he slurred. “How
are you doing this?”

“I don’t know. What will guarantee you seeing
the way home?”

“Seeing you.”

Damn. “All right. Be there in two
minutes.”

I concentrated on the Stone foundations. I
needed them bigger than they were, surrounding the car totally. I
needed a tank. I felt the rock shifting in my mind, the weight
moved along my body uncomfortably. Energy structures began to form
in my vision in front of me in steel blue plates, slamming into
place, covering the car completely in translucent force. I caught
Peter’s alarm as I watched it happen, but he calmed as I sat on the
hood without reacting. Maybe I wasn’t being sufficiently flamboyant
in my practice of magic or he just wasn’t expecting it to
happen.

“Pull up to the ward, but don’t break it,” I
called. Peter accelerated slowly forward the two blocks and turned
the car widely, pulling to the center of the road slowly and
stopping. It put me in a good position to inspect the ward placed
at the beginning of the street. The base of the ward was very
simple, a tripwire spread over about fifty different points on the
entrance. Basically, it was a big spider web. Pull on any string
and the spider knows you’re there. And it had a big something at
the center that was probably tamper-proofing. I didn’t have the
expertise to remove any of it. It was time for clichés, so in for a
penny in for a pound… I pulled the Night Sword into my left hand,
cut through the middle of it, and called to Peter, “Let’s
roll!”

Peter accelerated down the road a bit faster
than I liked, but the shielding around the car held me fast to the
hood in a turret-like structure as we went. Which house was evident
now—the one with the huge wards and no people running out of it.
Something slammed into the back of the car hard. I looked back as
Peter jumped in his seat, accelerating faster and jumping the curb,
throwing me up in the air and into the shields. It hurt like hell
but the shield held against whatever hit us. I jumped off the hood,
turning to look at Peter. The shield stayed on the car. Good.

I sliced through the ward at the front of the
house with the Night Sword. It acted differently this time. It was
a far more actively defensive ward. It blew up like a keg of
dynamite in a cartoon. Gotta hand it to elves, though, I thought.
They make some handy weapons. The Night Sword let me know it did
not appreciate that association. Energy expanded outward from the
cut, enough to obliterate a man to cinders, but the Sword deflected
it in a wedge beginning at the keen edge and continuing well past
my shoulders. When I looked back, the car was rocking on its shocks
a little, but every man I could see was thrown fifteen to twenty
feet back on the ground. More men than I knew were there to begin
with. Some weren’t getting up yet. I don’t think some of the
closest were going to get up at all from the angles they were lying
in. Peter looked panicked. Didn’t blame him there.

The front door was unlocked, so I let it
swing slowly open, peering around the doorjamb cautiously. I
stepped slowly into the empty foyer, Sword first. I searched the
foyer for the fuzziness that showed a veil like the elves. Seeing
nothing in the foyer or the hall, I moved down the hall and moved
swiftly past the kitchen entrance. There was someone in the
kitchen, hunched down beside the counters behind a veil. I crept
down the hall farther and peeked into the living room. The
television was on with the sound off. There were two drinks on the
table and a paperback slung down haphazardly. At least two in the
house, I surmised. Surely genius level thinking. I moved past the
door. No fuzziness was evident but there was much in the room I
couldn’t see. I moved farther down the hall to what I assumed was
the first bedroom door.