Lesser Gods (50 page)

“Okay.”

I heard Terry sit down with Laila and Alia. They chatted for a while, and Laila wondered aloud what I was asking Mr. Jenson. She was restless for my return, and asked Terry if she could go downstairs and find me, but of course Terry refused.

How I wished I could at least speak with Laila. It was quite possible that I would be killed today. To be in the same room with her, but invisible and silent, unrecognized, was unbearable. I wanted to hold her. To kiss her one last time.

But no, I would just have to make it back alive. Then we could be together again, and put all these lies and this terrible gathering of lesser gods behind us. I remained motionless and safely out of the way until Laila decided that she could wait no longer.

“I’ll make sure Adrian and Alia find you before my match,” promised Terry as Laila left the room.

“I’m right here, Alia,” I said once the door closed. “Don’t jump on me, though. I’ll lose my invisibility.”

I let Alia touch me to prove that I was real. It felt strange to think that she couldn’t see me any more than I could see her. Alia took my hand and led me back to our bedrolls, which was the only comfortable place to sit. I kept my movements slow and deliberate. I probably didn’t have to be quite this careful, but there was no sense in taking chances. Sitting cross-legged on the mats, I gently lay the jo stick in front of me where I could easily find it again. I felt my sister lean against my side and carefully put an arm around her.

None of us spoke. Terry and Alia were no doubt as lost in their own thoughts as I was in mine. What would happen to me today? What would happen to Terry? And Alia too, if and when the Guardians successfully terminated Number Two in the Angel camp. Would this turn into an all-out bloodbath? What of Laila, and all the other innocents who had unknowingly gathered for Mr. Baker’s calculated risk? I remembered how Terry had called this event “bigger than any of us.” We were all just tiny cogs in a giant, unstoppable gear.

I heard Terry whisper, “It’s time.”

I felt the hands on my Braille watch. There were only ten minutes left till 4pm.

“Yeah,” I said. “Time to go.”

I groped around until I found the jo stick again, and then stood up.

“Alia,” I said quietly, “go to the camper and tell Laila that I’m not coming to the match. Tell her that I’m still busy with Mr. Jenson.”

Alia asked, “What if she doesn’t believe me?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “There’s no time for her to come looking for me now. Stick close to Laila and her mother. Take care of Terry for me.”

“I will,” said Alia, touching my arm. “Please be careful, Addy.”

“Always.”

“I mean it!”

“I know, Alia,” I said, holding her. “I’m sorry. I will come back alive. I promise you that.”

That was an easy promise to make, since if I broke it, it would be my last broken promise.

“You’re a Guardian Knight, Alia,” I said, releasing her. “You’re one of the bravest people I know. I’m counting on you. Do your part. I’ll do mine, and Terry will do hers. Then we’ll all go home to Cindy, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Go on, then.”

Alia gave me one last quick hug, and then I heard her rush out of the room.

I asked into the void, “Are you there, Terry?”

“I’m right here, Adrian,” said Terry. “But I’ve got a battle to meet. Can you make it on your own from here?”

I almost shook my head before I remembered that Terry couldn’t see me. I said, “Blind is no problem, but invisible, someone is bound to bump into me. Would you take me to the side of the factory building? I’ll find my way from there once the crowd is inside.”

“Alright,” said Terry. “Hold my left arm. Careful, I’m wearing my hook.”

If Terry was planning on winning, she probably would have chosen her blade attachment, but the hook was sharp too. I carefully found her left arm and gripped it at the elbow.

I felt Terry touch my shoulder. “Last chance to call it off, Adrian.”

“I’m going,” I said, my resolve as solid as it was going to get.

“No regrets?”

“None at the moment,” I replied, “but I’m sure they’ll come to me before the sun sets.”

Terry started to lead me out of our room, but my feet refused to follow. “Terry, if I don’t come back, please tell Cindy...”

Tell her what? What could I possibly say?

“Adrian?”

“Never mind,” I mumbled. “She already knows.”

“Don’t worry about tomorrow,” said Terry. “You just focus on keeping yourself alive for the next hour.”

“Yeah,” I breathed.

“And no talking once we’re outside. They’re already gathering.”

Terry led me out of the office building. We were met by lots of cheering and applause for Terry. I was holding her left arm in a way that hopefully wasn’t noticeable.

Suddenly Terry jerked to a stop and barked, “Stand back! I’m in a very violent mood today!”

There was some laughter and more clapping. I guessed that someone had tried to rush up to her, and Terry just barely kept me from being run into.

I could hear the chattering, clapping and footsteps of many Guardians around us, but Terry kept the crowd at bay as we made our way through a gap in the motorhome barrier and walked toward the main factory building.

I heard Terry whisper into my ear, “Straight twenty paces to the south wall. The path is clear. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I whispered back, but I couldn’t be sure she heard me. I let go of her elbow and kept walking, putting my right hand out in front of me so that I wouldn’t have to tap with my stick.

I touched the rough concrete wall sooner than I expected, and stood beside it for several minutes until I was sure that most of the crowd was in the building. I was careful not to lean on the wall for fear of getting visible dust on my transparent clothes.

Once it was quiet, I put my left hand on the wall and held the stick in my right, and began gently tapping my way forward along the front of the factory. Getting my left hand fingertips dirty was unavoidable, but aside from that, it was fortunately a windless day, so I just had to be careful not to kick up any dust from the ground.

Since I was still moving east along the front wall of the building, I knew that I should soon come to a corner and turn left, which would point me northward toward the Angel camp.

Once I reached that corner, I steadied my breath as I turned left ninety degrees, my left hand still on the side wall. Now I was standing on the left side of the north-south service road that ran between the factory and the row of warehouses to my right. With any luck, there would be nothing to trip over between here and the circular outer barrier of the Angel camp. How far was it, exactly? I had a general idea of the size of the factory building, but I hadn’t considered it in terms of paces.

Tap. Step. Tap. Step. Pause. Tap. Step. Pause.

My desire to move forward and get through this was waging war with my fear of discovery. I had to get into the Angel camp before Terry’s battle ended, but one false move and I was likely to be engulfed in a pyroid’s flames or shot by a high-powered sniper rifle.

Tap. Step. Step. Tap. Several steps. No pause. More steps. More taps. No more pauses.

Suddenly my stick made contact with something that made it bounce back a bit. I reached forward and touched smooth metal. My stick had hit a tire. I was standing in front of a motorhome.

Still alive.

I groped my way along the side of the vehicle, looking for a gap. I found one a mere four paces away. Another few very cautious steps and I realized with a mix of thrill and terror that I was now actually standing inside the Angels’ barrier.

Suddenly I heard Cindy’s enigmatic words in my mind again:
Once more unto the breach...
What the heck did that mean, anyway?

And then Terry’s voice:
You’re walking a razor’s edge here, Adrian. I never knew you to be such an optimist.

So far, Terry’s warning notwithstanding, everything had gone just as I had planned and hoped. My insane idea to use Mr. Baker to get me access to a phantom had actually worked, and the months I spent in darkness had given me the skills to find my way into the Angel camp without the use of my eyes. Now, all I had to do was find Cat, and chances were, I already knew which motorhome she was in.

But I also knew from bitter experience that even the best-laid plans could turn fatal in seconds. And this was hardly a good plan.

I was invisible and blind, which was a precarious combination since neither I nor anyone else could take measures to avoid a collision. I sensed a number of destroyers in the camp, most probably Seraph guards. I could hear a few of the Angels talking too, though they were too far away for me to make out what they were saying. I silently thanked Cindy again for my hiding protection, but I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t accidentally get too close to an Angel and be discovered. I desperately wished I at least had my proximity sensors. Coming here with just a stick to guide me was even worse than stepping in front of a loaded shotgun.

Terry would probably do everything she could to draw out the fight, but even so, the Angel witnesses could return at any time. I had to hurry.

I took two steps, and suddenly my stick caught something on the ground. Whatever it was, I panicked, and the stick slid out of my sweaty right hand, falling to the ground with a loud clatter.

I froze.

The Angels must have heard the sound. It was simply too loud to have been missed. Over my own rapid breathing, I strained to hear the sound of footsteps rushing toward me, but instead, all I heard were a few casual voices in the distance. Perhaps the Seraphim weren’t as alert as I feared, or maybe the sound of my stick falling to the ground had seemed louder to me simply because I was more aware of it.

I crouched down, groping around for the stick, but before I found it, I realized it was meaningless. Even if I found the stick, chances were it would have lost its invisibility, so picking it up would be like waving a red flag. Still, I had been lucky not to have been touching it when it lost its cloak, as otherwise I too would be visible now.

Standing up, I groped around until I found the side of the motorhome again. Without my stick, I’d have to use the vehicle barrier as a guide to take me around in a half-circle to the far end of the camp. And yet the rooftops of these motorhomes was exactly the kind of place the Seraph guards would be standing as they watched for intruders.

There was nothing for it. I couldn’t stay here waiting to be found. With my right hand to guide me, I started walking counterclockwise along the inside of the barrier. I kept my footsteps and breathing as inaudible as possible as I passed one long motorhome after another. Once, to the best of my hearing, I passed almost right next to a pair of Angels talking about the match going on inside the factory. Neither were destroyers, though, and they didn’t sense my presence.

And, finally, somewhere near the northern side of the Angel camp, I realized the first major flaw in my plan. I knew which motorhome I was looking for, and I was certain that I was close to it, but I didn’t have the ability to see its color, nor did I have the time to measure the size of each motorhome in paces to find the largest one.

I had already pushed my luck far beyond rational limits so I decided that a little more couldn’t hurt. I shook myself visible.

Squinting in the sudden light, I looked around the camp. There were, as I expected, several Angels standing on the rooftops of the motorhomes, but they were looking outside, to the south. I also saw a few witnesses walking about between the regular cars and tents, but no one was close by or looking in my direction. I turned my head, and saw that the motorhome I had been searching for was a mere five yards away. Lucky again.

Please let Cat be inside.

Crouching as low as possible, I made my way up to the side door.

Second flaw in my plan: how was I going to get in?

The answer presented itself a moment later as I quietly tried the handle and found the door, surprisingly, unlocked.

Pulling the door open as silently as I could, I stepped inside.

Chapter 17: My Sister’s Keeper

In the narrow corridor of the motorhome’s midsection, I stood for a few seconds, listening for any sounds that might tell me if anyone was home. I heard nothing. Turning right, I tiptoed my way toward the back of the motorhome. Instead of a door, there was only a thin curtain, which I gently slid open to reveal the main bedroom. There was nobody here, but I stepped into the bedroom anyway, hoping to find a picture or some other evidence of who was living in this vehicle.

That was when I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked behind me.

A small, quivering voice said, “Turn around slowly.”

I did.

There was Cat, standing in the corridor. In three years, she had certainly grown up. She was as tall as me now, and her hair was longer than I remembered. But what I noticed most about her was the semi-automatic pistol she was holding in both hands, pointed at me.

Cat was looking at me in astonishment. “Adrian?”

“Hi, Cat,” I said quietly.

I tried to take a step forward, but Cat didn’t lower her pistol.

“Don’t!” she said, her eyes full of fear. “Don’t come any closer! I’ll scream!”

“Cat, look at me,” I said as soothingly as I could. “I’m not a shape-shifter. You know it’s me.” Carefully reaching down into the front my shirt, I pulled out her violet amethyst pendant.

Cat slowly lowered her pistol. Then she reached into her shirt and pulled out a delicate silver chain. We smiled.

“You really changed,” she said, stepping into the bedroom and looking me over. “You’re hair’s all different, and what happened to your eyes? The color...”

“My eyes are a long story, Cat,” I said. “As for my new hairstyle, it’s useful for hiding this.” I telekinetically lifted the right side of my semi-long hair to reveal my jagged ear.

Cat looked quite shocked. “What happened to you, Adrian?!”

“I’ve been in a few scrapes over the years,” I said mildly. “I’ll tell you about it when we have more time. Thanks for not shooting me, by the way.”