Lesser Gods

by Adrian Howell

  After dinner, Terry agreed to keep Alia occupied so that I could have some time alone with Laila in the greenhouse.

  The sun had pretty much set already, and we sat silently holding hands for a few minutes.

  As I gazed into her amber eyes, Laila seemed to blush a little, saying, “It’s kind of strange to know you can see me now, Adrian.”

  “You’re so beautiful, Laila,” I whispered. “I don’t think I ever really saw you before.”

  Laila giggled, saying, “You saw me before you went blind.”

  “But I didn’t pay any real attention,” I pointed out. “I never actually noticed you until after I lost my sight.”

  “What if I had been ugly?” Laila asked playfully.

  “Please don’t make me answer that.”

  “Well, what if?” she pressed, wrapping her arms around me.

  What if I said it didn’t matter if she was ugly? Then she’d think I didn’t care that she looked good. What if I said it did matter? Then she’d think I only cared about how she looked. Girls were masters at entrapment.

  “I love you, Laila,” I said, holding her tightly. “But I’d love you even more if you didn’t ask impossible questions.”

  Chapter 13: The Gathering of Lesser Gods

  It had taken me months to get used to blindness, but only a few days to get used to sightedness. That isn’t to say everything immediately returned to how they were. Alia still occasionally tried to take my elbow and guide me when we were outside, and I still absentmindedly ran my fingertips along the walls as I walked down the corridors.

  Cindy laughed when she caught me feeling the hands of my Braille watch, saying, “I guess old habits die hard.” With the glass cover down, my Braille watch looked just like a normal analog wristwatch, but I liked to lift the cover and see if I could still correctly tell the time with my fingers.

  Terry soon showed me exactly how out of practice I was in my CQC skills. Clumsy and easily disoriented in the dojo, I first questioned my new eyes, wondering if perhaps my depth perception was faulty. But no, I was really that bad.

  “We can’t have you rejoining the Ravens moving like this!” Terry shouted in frustration near the end of our fourth unproductive day of training. “Mr. Simms would never take you! And even if he did, I wouldn’t!”

  “I’m not rejoining the Ravens, Terry,” I replied, knowing that some things would never return to how they were.

  “Why ever not?!” demanded Terry. “No other unit would have you until you’re old enough to learn blocking.”

  The dojo was empty, and I had no reason to keep this from Terry, who had been hinting that she herself would soon be returning to Mr. Simms’s unit. I told her about Charles and Grace, and what I had discovered about Mr. Simms. The one person I believed I could trust this with was Terry, and I told her the whole story. It was hard to tell how Terry took it. She listened intently, but seemed skeptical when I finished.

  “How do you know that this Slayer was even telling the truth?” she asked.

  “I just know,” I insisted. “If you had heard him speak, you wouldn’t doubt him either.”

  “Well, maybe,” said Terry, unconvinced. “Even so, Mr. Simms saved your life too. As did we all.”

  “I know,” I said quietly.

  “Why didn’t you tell me all this last year?”

  “I didn’t know Mr. Simms was involved,” I explained, “and I didn’t want it to look like I was siding with the Slayers, because I’m not. You’re right that I owe the Guardians for my rescue. But I wouldn’t have been alive to be rescued if Charles hadn’t helped me. Besides, even if he hadn’t, what the Sky Guardians did to his sister was still wrong. I can’t just stand by and pretend I don’t care.”

  Terry shrugged. “Far greater crimes have been committed in this war, by us and every other faction out there.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” I said darkly. “But this is personal.”

  “Yeah, well, you always were an idiot, Adrian,” said Terry, rolling her eyes. “Even if you’re not returning to the Ravens, you still need to get your skills back. And you stay clear of Mr. Simms, understand?”

  I did.

  Terry continued to train me, but I could tell that it was going to be a long and arduous climb.

  Ralph Henderson returned to New Haven just over two weeks after my operation, and Alia and I bumped into him in the basement parking lot of NH-1.

  My sister and I were just getting ready to go cycling when we saw Ralph’s rusty blue convertible coming down the entrance ramp. Parking near us, Ralph stepped out of his car and said to me in his raspy voice, “So you got your eyes back, did you, lad?”

  “Yes,” I answered as Alia gripped my hand tightly. My sister still hadn’t gotten over her fear of Ralph.

  Ralph ignored her. “Then you won’t be needing me anymore, eh?”

  “No,” I replied, “but I thank you for all you did to help me.”

  Ralph snorted loudly. “As long as you can fight, it doesn’t matter.”

  Terry’s grandfather looked older than I remembered him. He had always reminded me a little of a scarecrow, weathered and gangly, but now his curly white hair was starting to get a little thinner. Though I wouldn’t have dared to say it to him, I thought that he looked ever-so-slightly... frail. I wondered how old he really was.

  “Terry’s back,” I told him.

  “I heard,” Ralph replied gruffly as he disappeared into the elevator.

  I wondered what went on in that man’s head, but even if I were a delver, I wasn’t sure I’d understand him. Why did he hate Terry so much? I knew Terry hated talking about her grandfather, but I couldn’t resist asking her in the dojo that evening.

  “I don’t know and I don’t care!” was Terry’s reply. “He’s your friend, not mine.”

  “Ralph was never my friend, Terry,” I said. “But he did try to help me when we all thought you had run away to hide.”

  “Whatever,” Terry said stiffly. “Anyway, get your mind off of my grandfather for a moment, because we have bigger things happening now.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Do you remember Riley O’Neal?” asked Terry.

  I gave her a puzzled look. “Not really. Have I even met a Riley O’Neal?”

  “Well, sure you have,” said Terry, throwing me an evil grin. “You killed him.”

  “You mean Riles?”

  Terry nodded.

  I had shot Riles to death in the engine room of a large derelict towboat early last year. The Angel had made the fatal mistake of assuming that I wasn’t ready to kill. I wasn’t so sure myself until I pulled the trigger. Though he was unarmed, after what he had done, I found that I had no regrets whatsoever regarding his death.

  “So what about him?” I asked.

  Terry smiled. “It turns out he was Larissa Divine’s favorite baby nephew.”

  I gaped.

  Terry continued happily, “Apparently Queen Divine is very upset. That’s probably why the Angels staged that attack on New Year’s Eve.”

  “That doesn’t make sense, Terry,” I said. “Cindy told me that if the Angels wanted me dead, they would attack me outside rather then trying to storm our home.”

  “True,” agreed Terry, “but the Angels don’t know that you killed Riles, Adrian. They think I did. Mr. Baker told me yesterday when I went to him asking to be reinstated.”

  “Then it’s your life that’s in danger,” I said.

  “Not exactly,” said Terry. “Not anymore, anyway. You see, Mr. Baker also told me that the Angels have officially called for a blood trial to settle this.”

  The way Terry said that, I could tell that she had once again forgotten I was a wild-born. “A what?” I asked.

  “A blood trial, Adrian,” repeated Terry. “A gathering of lesser gods.”

  “A what?” I asked again.

  Terry sighed heavily. “It’s a kind of tournament, Half-head. A gathering of lesser gods is sometimes called t
o settle personal disputes between psionic faction leaders, most commonly between the Guardians and the Angels, without resorting to an all-out battle that could endanger our secrecy. They’re more commonly known as blood trials because the idea is to let fate decide the winner through a series of one-on-one duels to the death.”

  A gathering of lesser gods... I had decided long ago that anyone who seriously considered psionics as gods was just being stupid. But even psionics called themselves lesser gods sometimes, and if these lesser gods gathered to let fate settle their disputes through a series of duels to the death, then I could only conclude that a gathering of lesser gods was a gathering of stupid people.

  “How many duels?” I asked.

  “Usually three battles,” said Terry, “and I heard from Mr. Baker that this time will be no different. Blood trials have been going on between the Guardians and the Angels ever since they split from each other seven hundred years ago. Sometimes they happen every few years, sometimes not for decades, but when one side calls for it, the other side has to agree or risk losing face and undermining the confidence of their followers.”

  “Then Mr. Baker is going to agree to this?” I asked.

  “That’s for the Council to decide, but I’m pretty sure they will. It’s almost unheard of to decline a challenge like this.”

  “Have you ever been to one of these, uh, trials, Terry?”

  “No. In fact, there hasn’t been a blood trial between the Guardians and Angels in over fifty years. You’d have to be as old as my grandfather to have actually attended the last one.”

  “But you’re planning to go this time, aren’t you?” I asked. “To fight?”

  Terry nodded. “I figure if the Angels called this trial to avenge Riles, I might as well be there in person for them. You see, the blood trial naturally comes with a prize for the winning side. I don’t yet know what Mr. Baker is going to demand of the Angels if we win, but if we lose, the Angels have already stated that the Guardians have to hand me over to Larissa Divine. I guess the Angels are planning to show me firsthand what they did to my brother.”

  I stared at her in horror. “But you didn’t kill Riles!”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Terry replied evenly. “You’re in no condition to fight, Adrian. I’ve already submitted my name to the Council for consideration. If you want, you’re welcome to give it a shot too, but take my word for it, you don’t stand a chance.”

  “I can’t let you do this, Terry!”

  “You can and you will!” Terry said fiercely. “I’m the one who taught you how to kill, Adrian. I’m still your master in all things combat-related, and you will do as I say!”

  We glared at each other silently for a moment. Then Terry smiled and said, “I don’t doubt your guts. Believe me, I’d trust you with my life any day, but I want this battle, Adrian. It’s my chance to take one back for Gabriel.”

  I exhaled and nodded slowly. “But will the Council even let you go? I mean, seeing as you can’t block psionic control any better than me...”

  Terry explained, “Since the Angels called for the gathering, we get to choose our combatants first, and then the Angels are honor-bound to choose opponents of similar powers. Blood trial battles are traditionally fought only between destroyers or non-psionic slaves. No controllers, no projectile weapons. If we send a pyroid, they will choose a pyroid to meet him. When I fight, the Angels will have to match me with a non-psionic.”

  At sixteen years old, with only one hand and no psionic powers, Terry Henderson was nevertheless among the best fighters in New Haven, beating seasoned Knights in training matches with considerable ease. Her legal guardians, Ralph and Uncle Charles, had long since given her the freedom to do whatever she wanted, so there was a good chance that the Council would vote in favor of allowing Terry to join this gathering of lesser gods, especially since it was Terry’s own life that was being placed on the trophy shelf.

  I said quietly, “Cindy is going to blow her top when she hears you’re going to fight.”

  “I already told her last night after you went to bed,” said Terry. “She certainly wasn’t thrilled about it, but she agreed not to interfere with the Council’s decision. Cindy knows that if we lose this trial, Mr. Baker will have to give me to the Angels. I’d rather take part in choosing my own fate. Cindy understands that.”

  “I knew she was upset about something this morning,” I muttered, remembering how Cindy was unusually quiet at breakfast.

  “Don’t worry, Adrian, she’ll–”

  “–get over it,” I finished for her, and Terry laughed.

  Then Terry said, “I’m guessing you’re not about to agree with this either.”

  “It’s not really my place to agree or disagree, Terry,” I said quietly.

  I hated the idea that Terry’s life was on the line because of something I had done, but this wasn’t the first time she would risk her neck for me. Besides, I knew that Terry would have jumped at the opportunity to join the blood trial no matter what the cause. Her primary enemy was the Angels, and here was her chance to kill one.

  Terry asked, “Will you at least come along with me to the trial? There are always large crowds of witnesses at these events, and the chosen combatants can bring anyone they want.”

  “Of course I’ll go,” I said. “That is, if the Council really decides to send you.”

  Terry raised her eyebrows. “You doubt my chances?”

  “Not really, but there are a lot more Guardians in New Haven these days.”

  “We’ll see,” said Terry. “Now go on back upstairs, Adrian. I can’t be working with you all the time. I want to do some training by myself.”

  I did as I was told, and found that Cindy had just returned from a Council meeting where they had discussed the very same topic. As I helped prepare dinner, I asked her if the Council was seriously considering sending Terry to this gathering.

  “Terry’s name came up,” Cindy said stiffly, “along with several of our other top fighters.”

  “She really wants this, Cindy,” I said.

  “I promised her I wouldn’t interfere, and I won’t,” replied Cindy. “But the Council isn’t going to decide anything until next week. We haven’t even formally accepted the Angels’ challenge yet. If it’s even going to happen, it won’t be for a while.”

  And that was all we said about it for the next few days. Terry was in the dojo from dawn to dusk, training and sparring with other Knights. Neither she nor Cindy seemed to want to discuss anything more about this sudden turn of events until they heard the Council’s decision. Meanwhile, Cindy put me on double time to catch up in my academic studies, but my mind kept wandering to Terry working out in the subbasement. I knew she wanted nothing more than to get one back for her brother, who had been tortured to death by the Angels, but I feared that even Terry was only human, thus susceptible to death.

  I met Laila over the weekend. Outside was warm, sunny spring weather, and I knew that my sister would be furious with me if I were to leave her at home on a day like this, but I did so anyway, carefully sneaking out of the penthouse in the early afternoon. As I strolled through the park with Laila, I really wanted to talk about something more peaceful, but I couldn’t help asking her what she thought of the chances that the Council would accept the Angels’ call for a blood trial.

  “My mother is dead set against it,” said Laila, “but hers is just one vote. I’m pretty sure they’ll accept.”

  “To keep a virtually nonexistent peace, they’re really going to bet Terry’s life?” I asked, once again disgusted with the Guardians’ complete lack of principles.

  “Terry made it perfectly clear to the Council that she wants exactly that,” said Laila, shaking her head. “I really worry about her sometimes.”

  I laughed nervously. “Terry has always worried me.”

  “You’re going with her, right?” asked Laila.

  “Naturally,” I said. “If something happens to Terry because of what I did... May
be I can’t help her, but I’ve got to at least be there.”

  “And your sister?”

  I nodded. “She’s coming too.”

  I had learned from Terry that the blood trial matches didn’t always result in the death of one combatant, but like the gladiator battles of ancient Rome, death was quite common, and sometimes even victors died of their wounds before psionic healers could save them. Alia wouldn’t be the only Guardian healer at the trial, but the more the better. Assuming that the Guardians would accept the Angels’ challenge, my sister had already insisted on accompanying us, and I knew that Terry trusted her skills just as much as I did.

  “Good,” Laila said happily. “Then I won’t be too lonely.”

  I asked in surprise, “You’re coming too?”

  “If the Guardians are going at all, then my mother will go, and so will I.”

  Catching the look of disbelief in my eyes, Laila added, “I don’t think my mother will actually let me see the fights. I’m not so sure I want to see them myself. I may never have fired a gun, Adrian, but I have seen people die, and I... well, I still have to be there. For Terry. That’s why you and Alia are going, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose.”

  Laila smiled. “I’m sure we’ll have very good security, but I’d still feel safer knowing you’re around.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “We’re just spectators, aren’t we?”

  Laila shook her head and said gravely, “As often as not, a gathering of lesser gods is just an excuse for factions to meet in semi-civil conditions to parley or spy on each other. At least one side will have some secret agenda, and even when it’s a clean event, it’s common for scuffles to break out between the witnesses. The Angels suggested two hundred and fifty witnesses on each side this time, Adrian. That’s five hundred people with grudges all crammed into one arena, and most of them will be psionic. Once, a few hundred years ago, a large gathering escalated into an all-out battle and fewer than ten survivors walked away from it, or so my mother once told me.”

  “I never thought of that,” I said, feeling a touch of regret in agreeing so casually to let my sister join us. “But if it’s so dangerous, why is your mother letting you go?”