Lesser Gods (48 page)

I remained embarrassedly silent, and Laila continued, “The first day I met you, I already knew you were different. You’ve really been there and back. You don’t just pretend to be cool. You really are.”

“No one has ever accused me of being cool before,” I said. I wasn’t about to remind Laila that she had once described me as “too cute.” After all, Laila was still half a head taller than me.

How I wished I could tell her not to worry, and that her mother wouldn’t be risking her life for Mr. Baker’s plot. But what would Laila think if she learned that I was planning to take Mrs. Brown’s place? There was nothing I could say to comfort her.

Instead we sat together on the hood of Cindy’s sedan and talked of trivial things: what we were going to do when we all returned safely to New Haven, and how long Terry’s fight tomorrow would last and whether she would sustain even a single injury before winning...

It might have been funny if it weren’t so sick. We sat there lying to each other, Laila acting as if she didn’t know anything about her mother’s role in the Guardians’ assassination plan, and me pretending I didn’t know what was going through Laila’s mind. Even if Laila had confided her secret in me, I couldn’t have told her that I was planning to take her mother’s place. I couldn’t have told Laila that Terry was planning to get beaten in tomorrow’s fight. If I knew how horrible Laila felt having to keep her mother’s secret from me, it was only because with so much more to hide from her, I felt utterly disgusted with myself. I was almost relieved when Mrs. Brown found us and took Laila back to her camper.

I walked back to our room where I found Terry sitting alone with her back propped up against the wall, glancing through some papers.

“You were gone awhile,” remarked Terry, standing up. “How was Laila?”

“Understandably distraught,” I replied. “Where’s Alia?”

“Showering,” said Terry. “This time for real. She should be back soon. Are you going to let her sleep with you again?”

I nodded. “If she wants. I promised she could as long as we’re here.”

Terry chuckled quietly. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re her brother or her mother.”

“Sometimes I’m not so sure myself,” I said with a sigh.

Terry asked worriedly, “Are you sure you really want to do this, Adrian? I know Catherine’s your real sister and all, but one false move and you’re either dead or converted. Either way, Alia’s going to be really sad.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Please don’t start talking like Cindy. It doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Alright, then,” Terry said evenly as she stood up, “I’m off to my meeting. I’ve got to try to get Mr. Baker alone afterwards, and I don’t know how long that’ll take. As soon as Alia gets back, you shower and go straight to sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“Since when were you my mother?!” I said, annoyed. “It’s barely 9pm. Besides, as far as big days go, you’re the one who’s walking into the arena tomorrow.”

“Better than where you’re going, Adrian,” said Terry, walking to the door. “See you in the morning. Wish me luck.”

As the door closed behind her, I shut my eyes and slowed my breathing, hoping to come to grips with what I had just committed myself to. It didn’t work. I shook my head furiously, trying to clear my mind. When I opened my eyes, though I could see the room I was standing in, I nevertheless felt as blind as the day the Slayers had taken my sight. Blind to the future. Where would I be in twenty-four hours?

The door opened again, and Alia stepped in, her hair still dripping water down the back of her nightclothes. She swiftly trotted up to me and, throwing her arms around my waist, said in a shaky telepathic voice,
“Addy, I’m really scared for you.”

“I’m a little scared for me, too,” I said, looking down into her anxious eyes. “But you know I have to do this.”

Alia nodded silently.

“Besides,” I added, “there’s no guarantee that Terry will even manage to get Mr. Baker to help me. One thing at a time, okay?”

That was good advice for the both of us. Focus on the present. The future would come soon enough.

I took a little extra time in the shower, which calmed me just a little. But as I lay down with Alia on our combined bed, I realized that I was still so completely wound up by all that had happened that there was no way I could simply close my eyes and fall asleep.

The angry shouts and gunshots outside seemed a little more distant that night. Clearer were the sounds of Alia’s faint breathing and my own heavy heartbeat. My eyes wide open in the semi-dark room, I could still see Cat walking through the Angel encampment. I could see Laila standing alone by the office building, her eyes red with tears. How would Laila feel if, in taking her mother’s place, I were to be killed tomorrow? What of Alia and Cindy, and even Terry? And what of me? Was I celebrating the last night of my life on this planet?

Focus! Focus on the present. Sleep now. Tomorrow could wait.

I heard the door open, and Terry whispered, “Still awake, Half-head?”

“Yeah,” I breathed. “How’d it go?”

“Well, I did the best I could. Don’t expect a miracle, though. Baker doesn’t lead the Guardians by being stupid.”

Chapter 16: The Crossing

Laila didn’t visit until well after breakfast the next day. She seemed, if not cheerful, at least composed. Terry had gone outside to spar with some Knights, leaving Alia, Laila and me to sit around playing card games to pass the time.

Earlier in the morning, Terry and I had impressed upon Alia the importance of keeping her mouth shut around Laila. That wasn’t so hard for Alia, for whom silence was second nature. My sister certainly looked a lot calmer than I felt. I had been hoping that Mr. Baker would send for me first thing in the morning, but he didn’t. I wondered if he might send for me during breakfast, but he didn’t. And after breakfast, still no word. Terry’s battle was scheduled for 4pm today, and it was already nearly lunchtime. Would Mr. Baker really take the bait? He now knew that I knew that Cat was at this gathering, and he also knew that I was planning to attempt contact. He would either assist me or stop me. But when? The one thing I could never get used to about a conflict was waiting for it.

Probably sensing the restlessness in my body language, Laila asked me, “Are you worried about Terry’s battle today, Adrian?”

“Yeah,” I said. It wasn’t an outright lie. I was, in fact, quite worried about what would happen to Terry this afternoon.

“I’ve never seen Terry lose a fight,” said Laila. “I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

I nodded, wondering if Laila already knew of Mr. Baker’s order to have Terry deliberately lose her match. Perhaps she did, since she knew that the Council wasn’t sending her mother into the Angel camp today, meaning the tournament would have to continue. I dared not ask, though. Just another secret we were keeping from each other.

I wasn’t at all hungry for lunch, but I forced myself to eat a little. Laila and Alia both shared my lack of appetite, and we ended up returning our trays with more than half of the food uneaten.

Still no word from Mr. Baker.

Terry returned to our room a little after 1pm in an exceptionally foul mood.

“Cowards!” spat Terry when we asked. She was referring to the Knights she had been sparring with. “They refuse to give it their all! They’re afraid I might lose an eye or something before my afternoon match. If I wanted a training dummy, I could’ve just used Adrian.”

I was about to offer a rejoinder when there was a knock on the door, and I telekinetically opened it to none other than Mr. Baker himself. I didn’t have to pretend to be surprised, because I
was
surprised. I hadn’t expected him to come in person. Mr. Baker was followed into the room by six Guardian Knights, including Mr. Ted Williams.

Glancing at the four of us, Mr. Baker said, “Might I have a word with Hansel and Gretel?”

I groaned. “Oh, please, Mr. Baker. Can we cut the call signs in this room?”

“Of course, Adrian,” said Mr. Baker, chuckling. “It was merely a formality. I am here on official Guardian Knight business.”

“I wasn’t expecting a social call during an event like this,” I said with a grin. “How can we help you?”

Laila looked at Mr. Baker uncomfortably and asked, “Um, is this a private conversation?”

“No, no,” Mr. Baker said lightly. “You and Terry are welcome to listen.”

Apparently Mr. Baker wanted witnesses.

Mr. Baker cleared his throat once and said, “So, Adrian, I have, um, a favor to ask of you.”

“Anything, Mr. Baker,” I said, trying futilely to steady my heartbeat which had just gone into overdrive.

“You understand that in all likelihood, this gathering will end today?”

“Meaning?”

“Well, Ms. Dallas won her match the other day, and I think we both can agree that the chances of the Angels having found a non-psionic more capable in combat than Terry here is practically nil. When Terry wins her round later this afternoon, we all get to go home.”

“That’s good news, Mr. Baker,” I said, forcing a smile. “What is it that you wanted to ask of me?”

Frowning, Mr. Baker said, “Well, you see, the Angels have never been known to keep their word in this conflict. Even now, as they outnumber us, we fear they may have some secret agenda. After all, they were the ones who requested this blood trial in the first place, even though, traditionally, it is the losing side that calls for this kind of gathering.”

“Are you afraid that the Angels might attack us in full force when Terry wins?” I asked.

“It’s certainly possible, but unlikely,” said Mr. Baker. “No, we fear there may be something more subtle going on. Perhaps an attempt on the lives of the Council members here. Or perhaps even me.”

“What can I do to help?”

“You and Alia saved the life of the Angel phantom, Mr. Jenson, two days ago. He would probably have bled to death had you not been there.”

“Alia saved his life,” I said. “Anyone could have pulled out the bullet.”

“Nevertheless, it was you,” replied Mr. Baker. “And that puts Mr. Jenson in your debt, so to speak. You see, we’re still not entirely certain that Mr. Jenson came to our side for the reasons he claims. More importantly, his conversion, though quite weak now, is still keeping him from willingly giving away any of the Angels’ secrets.”

Terry asked calmly, “Are you saying that his conversion has weakened enough for him to defect, but he’s still loyal to the Angels?”

“That is correct, Terry,” replied Mr. Baker, and I couldn’t help smiling to myself as I watched this charade. No doubt Terry had been told by Mr. Baker to play dumb in front of his guards.

Mr. Baker continued, “As Mr. Jenson has shown his willingness to join us, we would prefer not to forcibly interrogate him if it can be avoided.”

“How very humane of you,” Terry said sarcastically.

Ignoring her, Mr. Baker turned to me again and said, “I would like you and Alia to speak with Mr. Jenson. As he owes you a life debt, speaking with you may help him overcome his conversion and inform us of any secret plans the Angels have regarding this blood trial.”

“But Mr. Jenson isn’t even a Seraph, is he?” I asked. “Would a regular witness really know of any Angel plans?”

“It’s quite possible he knows nothing,” said Mr. Baker. “But if he does know anything at all, you’re the best bet for getting him to talk. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you this yesterday when we had more time. I was hoping we might discover the Angels’ plans without asking you or especially Alia to get involved, considering how Cindy feels about the two of you.”

I grinned. “Cindy’s not here.”

Mr. Baker remained unsmiling. “No, she’s not. But nevertheless I do not want to put either of you in any unnecessary risk. Unfortunately, we are running out of time. If the Angels are planning something, chances are that they are planning it for today. Perhaps even during Terry’s fight. That is now less than two and a half hours away.”

“It is no problem, Mr. Baker,” I said in a confident tone. “Mr. Jenson is locked in the basement of this building, isn’t he? I’m sure there’ll be no risk involved in talking with him. But if I’m to convince him to talk to me, it might be best if your security guards gave us some privacy.”

“My thoughts exactly,” agreed Mr. Baker. “I will make it so. When will you talk to him?”

“We’ll go right away,” I promised.

“Terry can escort you down,” said Mr. Baker. “If Mr. Jenson tells you anything at all, please find me immediately. If you can’t get anything from him, thanks for trying, and I’ll see you at Terry’s match.”

Don’t count on it.
I nodded and smiled, and Mr. Baker and his escorts left us.

I turned to Laila and said apologetically, “Mr. Baker’s orders. We’ll be back as soon as we can, okay?”

“No problem,” said Laila.

Terry, Alia and I were about to leave, but then Laila suddenly changed her mind and asked brightly, “Actually, can I come with you, too?”

I hesitated. I couldn’t let Laila hear what I had to say to Mr. Jenson, but nor could I refuse her company without arousing her suspicion. Terry was watching us uncomfortably.

“Um, sure, Laila,” I said uneasily. “You can come if you like.”

Alia said worriedly into my head,
“Addy? Do you really want Laila to come with us?”

I couldn’t answer my sister aloud without revealing that she was using her telepathy, but Alia had a solution to that too:
“Scratch your head if you want me to keep Laila here.”

I did, and Alia said aloud, “Addy, I’m really scared. I don’t want to see Mr. Jenson again.”

“It’s okay, Ali,” I said. “I’ll talk to him myself. You can wait here.”

“No, Addy! I don’t want to stay here alone either.”

Alia was a horrible actor, but Laila seemed to buy it. “I’ll stay here with you, Alia,” she said reassuringly. “Let your brother do his job.”

“Thanks, Laila,” said Alia, and I did my best not to cringe.

Terry and I exited the room and, once we were in the hall, I let out a huge sigh of relief. Terry laughed lightly. “So far so good.”

Terry led me down a flight of stairs into the building’s basement, and we followed a narrow corridor lined with rusty pipes until we came to a steel door. It was guarded by two sentry Knights: one telekinetic, one spark.