Lesser Gods (57 page)

“I don’t need proof,” I replied evenly. “Cindy would believe me if I told her.”

We glared at each other in furious silence. I wondered why I was so hell-bent on losing my title.

Was it pride? Or hate? Fear of rubbing shoulders with the likes of Mr. Simms? Was it perhaps to keep myself from being tempted to join another Guardian mission? But then again, if I was serious about living in peace, what difference did it make whether or not I was an Honorary Guardian Knight?

I shrugged and gave Mr. Baker a half-smile. “Alright, Mr. Baker,” I said calmly. “We’ll do this your way. I’ll play my part. But know this: I’m through with your damn war. You’re right in that I have my own agenda. If it weren’t for Cindy and Alia, I’d leave New Haven today.”

“Don’t worry, Adrian,” said Mr. Baker, his frown slowly fading. “You’re Cindy’s boy. Nobody is going to risk your life again.”

“Will that be all, Mr. Baker?” I asked.

“Yes. Have a good day.”

“Thank you,” I said curtly, and strode out the door.

Returning home, I joined Cindy in the greenhouse. Alia was there too, and she told me that Terry had gone down to the subbasement to practice her shooting.

“So how’d it go with Mr. Baker?” asked Cindy.

I chuckled. “Apparently being an Honorary Guardian Knight isn’t quite as voluntary as I had hoped. But it’s okay. What’s in a name, anyway?”

“I’m glad you agreed to his request,” said Cindy, and then added in a worried tone, “That is, if you really are planning not to take on any more dangerous missions.”

“I’m not,” I confirmed. “Except for one.”

“Adrian?!”

I grinned. “I’m still your live-in bodyguard, right?”

“Oh!” Cindy laughed. “Right. Between you and Terry, I’m sure this house is the safest place in New Haven.”

“Hey, what about me?” Alia cried indignantly.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” said Cindy, giving her a hug. “I almost forgot that you’re a Knight too.”

“And a tough one at that,” I agreed. “You should see her with a jo stick.”

“Addy!”
Alia hissed angrily into my head. What she had done to Terry was supposed to be a secret.

In the evening, I went back to Mark’s church, taking Alia with me. We each lit a candle. I still didn’t believe in all this church stuff, but I felt that Laila’s faith was enough for the both of us. As I watched the candles burn, I didn’t pray, but I hoped. I hoped that Laila was in a better place. And I hoped that my memories of her would give me the strength to let my anger go. I hoped that someday I really would find peace.

Terry’s seventeenth birthday arrived sooner than I expected. Once again, I couldn’t think of a gift, so I settled for a card and baking the double-layered chocolate cake with Alia. There were no decorations or fancy planning this time, but we had a quiet, enjoyable dinner.

The doorbell rang just as we had finished dividing up the cake.

“Uncle Charles!” said Terry, opening the door.

Terry’s Uncle Charles wasn’t really her blood relation, but the last living member of Ralph’s former Wolf unit that had defected to the Guardians so many years ago.

“Hello, Terry,” the old man said gruffly, stepping into the living room without waiting for an invitation. He was carrying a small shoulder bag, which he tossed onto the low table.

Cindy seemed entirely unperturbed by the man’s manner. “Good evening, Mr. Holloway,” she said pleasantly. “It’s nice to see you’re still alive.”

Closing the door, Terry said, “I didn’t know you were in town.”

“I just got back from a scouting mission,” replied Charles. “I’ve been in debrief all day.”

“So what brings you up here now?”

Charles shrugged, saying, “I came here to wish you a happy birthday.”

Terry narrowed her eyes. “You haven’t wished me a happy birthday since I was ten. You probably don’t even know how old I am.”

Charles laughed. “Alright, you got me. I’m actually here on semi-official business. It’s about your grandfather’s will.”

Terry looked surprised. “My grandfather didn’t have a will. He never cared what happened after he died.”

“Well, the building maintenance crew was finally cleaning out his home the other day and they found one. It seems he wrote it just before leaving for the blood trial. It’s hardly a will, being scribbled on a scrap of paper, but we’ve decided to honor it nevertheless.”

Ralph was famous for surviving one suicide mission after another, but perhaps he knew that he would die this time. I remembered Terry telling me how Ralph had been forced to kill his own son and daughter-in-law when they were taken control of by an Angel puppeteer. That had been during a previous, failed attempt on Larissa Divine’s life, back when Terry was still a baby. It had taken nearly two decades, but Ralph had finally completed his mission.

“So, what of it?” Terry asked in an annoyed tone. “I don’t care for anything that man has touched.”

“He probably figured you’d say that, Terry,” said Charles. “So he left you all that he didn’t actually touch. His money, that is. It’s no great amount, but it’ll be transferred to your bank account.”

“Fine,” said Terry. “Is that all?”

“For you, yes,” said Charles. “But I have something for the others here, too.”

Cindy, Alia and I looked at each other. Ralph had left us something?

“For Ms. Gifford, I have a sealed message,” said Charles, reaching into his bag and pulling out a white paper envelope.

“Thank you, Mr. Holloway,” said Cindy, taking the envelope. “I’ll read it later.”

“And for Adrian,” continued Terry’s uncle, putting his hand into his bag again and pulling out a short steel crossbow bolt with a razor-sharp tip. “I presume you recognize it?”

I did.

“The very one you deflected at Ms. Gifford’s old residence,” said Charles, handing it to me. “Or so I’m told.”

I quietly held the crossbow bolt in my hands, turning it around and looking at the little scratches in the metal, hardly noticing the draining effect it was giving me. What was Ralph thinking?

“For Alia, I have only a short message,” said Charles, looking down at my sister. “It was written into his will, which I don’t have with me at the moment.”

Alia seemed to tremble a little, but she stood her ground, and Charles smiled, saying, “Ralph Henderson is sorry if he scared you.”

Alia gazed back at Charles for a few seconds, her face expressionless. Then she nodded solemnly.

That message was already a shock, coming from Ralph of all people. But I still couldn’t figure out what the deal was with the crossbow bolt. After Ralph escaped from the chair we had tied him to, had he actually kept this thing as a souvenir?

“I don’t understand,” I said.

Charles nodded. “Ralph was a difficult man to understand, especially after what happened to his son. But I knew him well, and I can guarantee that he thought very highly of you.” Charles glanced down at the bolt in my hands. “He told me how you had managed to deflect that with just a single telekinetic blast. He suspected that it had been somewhat accidental on your part, but he was nevertheless quite impressed with your reflexes.”

It
had
been an accident. I had been aiming my blast at Ralph’s crossbow, and technically, I hadn’t even deflected the bolt. My blast hit it in midair so that it slowed down just enough to prevent injury. I hadn’t thought much of what I did back then, but now that I knew more about my telekinetic power, I doubted I could ever repeat that impossible shot.

Charles continued smilingly, “Ralph believed that you were something special, Adrian. He showed no surprise when you were made an Honorary Knight last year. He even once told me that you were destined for greatness, which is more praise than I’ve ever heard him give anyone else.”

“Me?!” I asked incredulously. “Destined for greatness?”

“I swear those are the words he used,” said Charles. “I was a bit surprised myself when I heard it. Ralph didn’t usually talk like that. But there’s something else I can’t quite get over, and that’s just how much you resemble Ralph’s son. Back when your hair was shorter and your eyes were a bit more human, you looked just like him in his youth.” Charles turned to Terry, who was scowling. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“No,” Terry said brusquely. “Adrian looks nothing like my father.”

Charles shrugged. “Well, you didn’t know your father when he was your age. And besides, you got your looks from your mother.”

To break an uncomfortable silence, Cindy invited Charles to stay for some coffee and birthday cake. Charles refused, claiming that he had had a long day and wanted to get some rest. Cindy didn’t ask twice.

As Charles headed for the door, he said, “Oh, and Terry, Mr. Baker wants a quick word with you. In person. He’s at home now, and he wants you to come over.”

“Now?” asked Terry.

“Mr. Baker is off for the rest of the evening, so you can go anytime. He said he just wants a few minutes.”

“I’ll go get it over with.”

Terry left with Charles. Cindy, Alia and I went back to the dining table to finish our dessert.

Terry was only gone for ten minutes or so.

“What did he want?” I asked when she returned.

“Tell you later, Half-head,” replied Terry.

Terry gobbled her slice of chocolate cake and quickly excused herself to take a bath. That left Alia and me to help Cindy with the cleanup, which was fine. It was Terry’s birthday, after all.

Once the dishes were out of the way, I trotted back to my bedroom with Alia on my heels. My sister wanted to play a game of checkers with me before bed, but I wasn’t in the mood. As Alia disappointedly flipped through one of her unicorn books at her desk, I rested on my bed with my back against the headboard, twirling the crossbow bolt in my fingers.

Wondering.

Cindy hadn’t opened Ralph’s letter at the dinner table, and I wasn’t about to ask her to share it. After hearing Ralph’s unlikely apology to my sister and learning what he had said to Charles about me, I suspected that Ralph’s letter might contain something about his killing of Cindy’s husband. If not a straight-out apology, perhaps at least a few words of remorse. Suddenly that didn’t seem as unlikely as I had previously thought. During our various encounters, my relationship with Ralph had gone from mortal enemy to something beyond a truce, if not quite friendship. I understood now how Ralph had lived his life in pain, and how his choices had reflected that pain. I had skipped his funeral, but perhaps someday I would visit his grave.

I tried levitating the bolt over my open hand, and was surprised at how easily I could keep it in the air. The bolt was made of steel, and as such it should have felt much heavier in my mind.

“Alia, come here,” I said, getting up from my bed and leaving the bolt on my pillow. “I want to try something.”

Alia put down her book and jumped out of her chair.
“What is it, Addy?”

I focused my telekinesis around her body and gently lifted her up. Once she was hovering about a foot over the floor, I tried to levitate myself while keeping Alia in the air.

Alia let out a little gasp of surprise as she fell back down onto the floor.

“Sorry,” I said. “But I think I almost had it for a second there.”

I tried again, this time standing much closer to her. It took an extraordinary amount of concentration, but I could do it. If only for a few seconds, I was levitating both Alia and myself at the same time. There was no question about it: my power had grown again.

The door suddenly burst open, and in my surprise, I dropped Alia again. Fortunately, we were both only a few inches from the floor anyway.

Terry stuck her head through the doorframe and said to Alia, “Bath’s open, kid.”

“It only takes one hand to knock, Terry,” I said as Alia grabbed her nightclothes and left the room.

Terry ignored my complaint. “Nine-ball?”

“Sure,” I said, telekinetically picking up the crossbow bolt from my pillow and moving it to my desk.

Terry gave me a disbelieving look. “You’re not actually going to keep that thing, are you?”

“I don’t see why not,” I replied. “It was a parting gift, after all.”

Terry snorted loudly.

Entering the room, Terry walked over to my desk to examine the crossbow bolt. She gingerly picked it up and peered at it closely as if to check how straight it was. “I never knew my grandfather collected trophies.”

I smiled and said, “You know, I think Ralph really wanted to love you, Terry. He was probably just afraid to get close to anyone.”

“Stow it, Adrian!” Terry said sharply, dropping the bolt back onto my desk. “I really don’t care. He’s dead. That’s the only good thing about him.”

I didn’t reply, and just gazed silently in her direction. She stared back defiantly, but I could see the discomfort in her eyes.

Suddenly Terry said, “You know, you do look a bit like my father. I saw a picture of him once.”

I said hesitantly, “Ralph wasn’t such a terrible man, Terry. We’ve both met worse.”

“I suppose,” Terry grudgingly agreed.

Then she eyed the crossbow bolt again and said in an innocent tone, “You keeping this thing... Could it possibly mean that you’re considering taking on missions again?”

“No,” I replied flatly.

Terry laughed. “Hey, you know I had to try.”

I laughed too.

“You’ll come around someday,” said Terry. “Besides, war can come to us right here. You don’t have to go looking for it.”

“I know that,” I said.

I was still training regularly with Terry. And it wasn’t just to “play my part” for Mr. Baker. While I was certain that I wouldn’t be fighting for the Guardians anymore, I still lived with Cindy and Alia. I had to be ready.

Terry got regular updates through the Raven Knights, so I knew that our situation was more dangerous than it had ever been during Larissa Divine’s time. The Angels had no master controller now, so they weren’t out to absorb us. They had no reason to try to take us alive.

Still, it wasn’t exactly a shooting war. Not yet, anyway, because the Angels were in a state of chaos following the loss of their queen. They still hadn’t decided on a successor to the throne. There were several contenders. While it could be several more months before enough Angels lost their psionic conversion for the faction to completely fall apart, it was already beginning to splinter at the edges. Within days of Larissa Divine’s death, two of the Angels’ weakest links had broken away, declaring themselves independent factions. More would surely follow.