by Scott Duff
“Okay, Kieran it is.” That was simple to accept. Sort of. “You’re over four hundred years old?”
He hesitated in answering, but said, “I have experienced about four hundred and fifty years, yes, but I was born in 1964. I believe that actually makes me forty-nine. You should know, though, that our father was born sometime in the early 1400’s. We are a long-lived people.”
Okay, that one floored me. Dad was over six hundred. He didn’t look sixty. He looked maybe the forty-nine Kieran claimed. On a bad day. Kieran looked twenty-two. He’d definitely get carded buying liquor. Wow, I’ve got a giant glowing ball in my head now, and this is what I’m having a hard time believing.
“Any more relatives I don’t know about?” I asked sarcastically.
“Probably,” he said, nodding. “When I left, I had at least two brothers and a sister still living, and I believe they had children as well. And I believe there is at least a nephew by a brother who was killed in the 1700’s still living. We would have to ask father to be sure.”
Damn. Instant family. Just add a lake and shake violently.
“Why haven’t I heard of any of this?” I asked, frustrated.
Again, he hesitated. “I don’t know. Equally important to that is why you haven’t been trained in the Arts. I mean the Magical Arts. You were prepared to take the Pact, but nothing else. There is much that father didn’t teach you and you are well past the age that you should be taught. And it adds to our troubles here. It’s very confusing.”
I sat down in the grass, cross-legged. This was obviously going to take a while so I was going to get comfortable. Kieran followed suit, sitting opposite me with his legs out at an angle.
“All right,” I said, trying to collect my thoughts in all this. “You said we’re a long lived people. Who are we as a people?”
“Wizards, magicians, people of power,” he said mildly. “We are a very small portion of the world who can see and manipulate the powers in the universe that we call magic. For us, it’s like using a muscle to move a rock or lighting a candle to see in the dark. It’s a talent, mostly traveling down families. Occasionally, a normal person will show up with some talent but not often. And the talent does vary from person to person.”
“And this is called a Pact?” I asked.
“Oh, no,” he said. “The Pact is completely different. The Pact belongs to our family and a few others and is secret. Actually, it is several secrets. I don’t know how many exactly, but there can’t be but, maybe three or four. The one you hold now, for instance, shows the history of the Fae, down to their defeat and expulsion from this plane by us. You should, by the way, never try to open the Pact to anyone. It will react very badly to that. That is its purpose: to keep that secret beyond coercion. You know it’s there and you can use the information if you need to, but you can’t pass the information around. It is very old and very strong magic, written before the Fae even. No one has ever broken it.”
“But you just said it,” I asked.
“Yes, but I am no longer constricted by the Pact,” he said, smiling. “You are.”
“So remove it.” This didn’t sound difficult to understand.
“It is entwined in your soul,” he said. “I cannot remove it without killing you. And then it would dissolve before I could take it.” Okay, that sounded difficult.
“But you removed yours.”
“No, my teacher taught me how to disengage it from my soul to do other things,” he said. “His language was much older even than that of the Pact. The beast pulled the Pact with it when it left my body. I can teach you the same way, but it will take some time.
“And we must be certain that you are not the last holder of this Pact. If you are, then I have the duty to find a suitable replacement. The story must not die.”
“Why is it your duty?” I asked.
“I accepted the Pact.” He said it so simply, he was almost child-like again.
“So where is this beast now?” I asked, playing idly with a blade of grass.
He stiffened. “It was able to do with you what it could not with me. The body disintegrated creating the gateway attached to your soul. Right now, it’s sitting in its home between worlds waiting on you to call it.”
Okay, this was another astounding moment. My head snapped up, but my jaw was on the ground. This was the biggest yet.
“I’m possessed?” I shouted. Didn’t mean to, but when a demon makes a doorway through your soul, whatcha gonna do?
“Not exactly,” he said softly. “More like you’re a door now.”
I stood up and started pacing. Several times I stopped to say something, but I couldn’t get the words out. Frustration was just too high. My parents were God knows where. I was stuck in the hills with this giant redheaded Rumplestilzkin telling me stories about magic. I couldn’t ignore the magic because I felt and saw it. And even performed some of my own.
“Why me?” I finally got out.
“Oh, that actually does make some sense,” he said, sitting up straighter and getting his legs underneath him. That was amazing in itself, considering how thick his legs were. “The spell that sent me back concluded with a word that translates to ‘home.’ For me, that would be my house. All that remains of my house are the two ward stones. This one here and the other one we found in the lake. Now the word ‘home’ has strong connotations to family and friends. So from the spell’s perspective, the ward stone in the lake had a stronger sense of home since you were closer to it that night. See?”
I cocked my head at that explanation, wondering if he had some snake oil for sale. A spell had a perspective? Hmm.
“So if I had been at home that night, you would have shown up here?” I asked.
“Probably,” he said, nodding and smiling. I wondered if he was using magic to get me to buy this crap. Because I was and I didn’t know why. Maybe I was just too bored and needed the excitement.
“This demon inside me…” I started, looking down at him.
“It’s a protector of the realm I just left,” he said looking up, green eyes gleaming in the sun. He looked proud of the thing, whatever it was. “It is the last of countless beings that stood as a barrier between that realm and everything else in the universe for untold millennia. I was the only person or thing ever to have gotten past them. When he sent me away when the realm finally died, it followed me here. Neither it nor I know if he caused it to follow or if the magic of its creation caused it. But it cannot stay on this plane without an anchor so that it can move between here and there.
“Confusing terminology, there. The ‘he’ is my teacher and his name should not be spoken just yet. There is power in names and his is a very powerful name. The creature lives in the dark place between worlds. That is how it protected my teacher’s realm, by not allowing anything through. But as with anything that has a beginning, the realm had an end and I saw it. I was there to see the end of the most peaceful and exotic land in all of creation.
“As I was cast out, the creature watched me leave and followed. The damage it accrued fighting its way through the destruction and up through the many levels of the universe to get to me was immense. It will never be fully what it was. But now it wants to protect me as the last of the realm.”
Then let it make a door outta you, I thought.
“It is still a very powerful being,” he went on, “but neither of us could tell exactly what the extent of the damage is. Or how it will change, being on its own.”
That was alarming. “Great,” I said, “So not only am I the doorstep for a demon, but you don’t even know how it’s gonna act?”
“No, not really,” he admitted. “After I followed it and recognized it for what it was, I was more interested in taking care of you. It told me where you lived and how to get in. So I carried you home, watched, and waited.”
“You said I told you where I lived,” I said.
“A matter of perspective,” he said. “When it created the anchor, it had to know you well
enough to not hurt you in any way. It effectively knows you better than you know yourself.”
“It has my memories?” I asked. He nodded and I felt really dirty. Violated. Icky. I wanted an hour in the shower. “That’s just gross.”
Kieran made a face and shrugged. I suppose that was agreement.
“It has been sleeping almost as long as you have,” he said. “We need to get it started acclimating. And you need to meet it.”
“Why?” I was angry now. “Why do I have to meet this thing? This damn thing is just using me to get to you! Hell, for all I know, you’re just using me for something! Why should I believe this? What have I done to deserve any of this?” I stormed off, stomping and kicking at clumps of tall grass. I stomped all the way back up to the house, slamming the door on the way in.
I lost it somewhere between the backdoor and my room. Yeah, I know, guys aren’t supposed to cry, but get real. Look at what’d happened to me in the past six months, in the last two days. It didn’t last long anyway. I was in the shower longer. I went to my bathroom to blow my nose and wash my face. When I walked back into the room, I was already sitting on the bed. I mean, someone who looked just like me, exactly like me, was sitting on my bed.
“Hello, Seth,” he said, with my voice. Time for another breakdown. A nervous one, this time.
Chapter 3
A few months ago I watched an episode of I Love Lucy where Lucille Ball dressed up like Harpo Marx and got caught by the real thing. I hadn’t seen much television before then so it was really funny to me. It was also the first time I’d seen anybody playing a harp before. I thought it a piano on its side and out of its case. That started my love affair with the Marx Brothers. Don’t care for the Three Stooges, though.
Doing that bit didn’t occur to me then. This man was an exact duplicate of me, down to not shaving this morning. He stood as I exited the bathroom. I looked at him sideways and circled around him. There had to be a flaw in the disguise somewhere. He didn’t move at all while I did this. When I came back around to the front, I poked his shoulder with a finger to prove to myself I wasn’t dreaming. He was solid. And unthreatening, which I supposed was a good thing.
“So, where are the pods?” I asked him.
“I do not know,” he said, totally devoid of inflection. “Oh, a joke. I understand.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I do not have a name,” he said, still blankly. It was eerie, like I was a robot or a real pod person or something. “The last time we met I was a large, black, sparkly dog.”
I backed into the doorframe hard. “First you steal my head and now you steal my body! What the hell are you!”
“I have upset you,” the other me said, this I-not-I. “I have made many mistakes in a short time. I am sorry. I assumed that coming to you in the form you were most familiar with would be the most calming considering the circumstances of our first acquaintance. There is much that I am having difficulty understanding.”
“Where is Kieran?” I asked, calming slightly. This thing scared me and I didn’t want to be alone with it. It turned its head in the direction of the back of the house.
“He is just coming back from in-between,” it said, turning back to me, “I came through the anchor in you. He could not survive that way, so he went back the way he came. I was hoping I could assure you that I meant you no harm while he was away. I will wait outside.”
With that, he disappeared. Just blinked completely out of sight. Like a reflection or something. I didn’t know if he moved really fast or just popped out of reality. Either was possible, I guess. This was getting disturbing. I had to find out what was going on in my own house. I walked through the house again and out onto the deck just as Kieran cleared the trees and caught sight of my double standing at the bottom of the steps.
“Oh no,” I heard him say, “Tell me you didn’t talk to Seth looking like him.”
“I did not realize how upsetting it would be to him,” my double said, blankly.
“I told you to wait for me,” said Kieran. He sounded frustrated. Good, maybe he was feeling a hundredth of what I was feeling.
“Yes, Kir du’Ahn,” my double said, bowing his head. That phrase made my head buzz, like the words resonated and echoed in that empty space around the Pact and sigil. It didn’t hurt exactly, but I definitely took notice.
“Seth,” Kieran called, looking directly at me from the ground, “It doesn’t know. It doesn’t understand yet.”
“Yeah, that’s what he said,” I said and went back in the house. I know it was petulant, childish even. But I had to have time to think. Too much weirdness was happening too fast. I walked down the hall and into the office. I’d always thought of it as my dad’s, but considering I’d never seen him in it, I guess it was more mine than his. In the safe, there were a ton of papers, mostly bonds and real estate deeds, all in my name. A good bit of cash in several currencies, too. Just looking at the safe now bothered me. It was like my parents were taking care of me before they disappeared, like they knew they weren’t coming back.
There’s that word again: maudlin.
It did make me think about my life up till then, though. I had a lot of opportunity for that in the last six months. As an only child, I spent most of my life around adults and was having a very difficult time making friends around here with people my own age. I couldn’t figure out why, but I kept trying. My last failure was explosive. It was time to get help. It was time to find my parents because now problems were invading my house and I didn’t know what to do about them.
I sighed and got up, deciding to tackle the smaller problems first: getting my “houseguests” taken care of. Then I’d start working on finding my parents. I let myself stay in the dark on that for way too long and I wanted them back. I needed my family back.
I went to change. There was no way I was going shopping looking like a twin whose mommy dressed him. It was bad enough that I suddenly had a twin. I grabbed the flip-flops for Kieran and went to find them. They were on the deck, sitting at the table and talking.
“We need to go shopping,” I said, dropping the shoes at Kieran’s feet as I plopped into a chair. I looked at my twin and asked, “What do you need? Food? Clothing?”
“I don’t know,” it said. “My previous incarnations did not last long enough to need nourishment and had no need for clothing.”
“So for the moment, we concentrate on a name and a personality, is that what you’re saying?” I asked. I’d turned into quite a smartass this morning. Kieran chuckled, though. I not I just nodded robotically. “I’ll plan on you eating, anyway. At least that way, we won’t run out of food. Let’s go.”
I led the troop through the kitchen to the garage, grabbing my wallet, keys, and cell as I passed the basket on the counter. The cell’s battery was so dead, it wouldn’t cut on. Charge it in the car. I had to move the seat for Kieran—he wasn’t too electronically adept and couldn’t figure where the controls were much less how to use them. I-not-I sat behind me but I think I could have put him in the trunk and he wouldn’t have complained. I did consider it briefly. I started the car, hit the garage door opener, cranked up the radio, and pulled out into the world.
Except for the music, it was a very quiet hour drive into town. The drive was relaxing, mostly because I saw normalcy right away. People driving in cars with normal auras around them. Kieran had one. It was just hidden somehow. I guess it was the same for my double. Kieran looked out the windows quite enthusiastically. I could tell he wanted to ask questions about things, but I just wasn’t ready to talk just yet. And I think he knew that asking I-not-I would probably tick me off again. That hour gave me time to plan this shopping trip to maximum affect.
The first stop was a warehouse department store. We found a place to park on the side and piled out of the car. I grabbed my cell from the charger, turning it on as I shoved it in my pocket. It rang before we got to the front door. Jimmy’s home number lit the display.
“I
don’t want to talk to you, Jimmy,” I said, answering the call, “Just lose my number.”
“Seth, John Morgan, Jimmy’s father,” said a deep, raspy voice. “I am so glad to hear your voice. We’ve been so worried about you.”
“That’s kind of you, but I’ve been taking care of myself for a while now,” I said, not really caring that he worried. I did try to keep the bitchiness out of my voice, but I don’t think I succeeded.
“Jimmy came home saying that he left you in the middle of Bankhead…” he said. I wasn’t really sure exactly which question he was trying to lead me to answering.
“…In the middle of the night, yes,” I said, “Along with Pitch and Billy. That’s pretty much why I don’t want to talk to them again. If those guys are my friends, I pretty much don’t need enemies.”
“Yeah, I can understand that,” he agreed, “So how did you get out of the woods? Are you home?”
“No, I had to call on my brother for help,” I said, fudging the truth a little. “He had to come a long way and it’s taking me a little time to get back to normal.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked. “The stories those boys were telling—”
“Mr. Morgan,” I interrupted him, not seeing how the two related and not caring, “I really don’t know what they told you and I really don’t care. The simple facts are they started a fireworks war and when I reciprocated, they left me for dead. And that could have actually happened out there. It was pure freakin’ luck that I got out the way I did, a one in a million shot. Just keep Jimmy away from me and I’ll be happy.” I hung up. I wasn’t mad—didn’t have the emotional energy for that, right now.
My phone chirped to tell me I had messages, fifty-seven of them. Snapping the earpiece off the phone, I motioned for Kieran and I-not-I to grab a cart each and moved into the store, becoming one of those people I hate: a cell phone zombie. I pointed to a sign announcing “Men’s Wear” near the ceiling, put a hand on Kieran’s buggy, and started through the voicemail. Most of it I deleted without hearing more than a few words since it was Jimmy and crew or their parents. I’ll let Mr. Morgan deal with them; I was done. The few that remained were police and sheriffs. Those, I figured I’d have to talk to.