Lesser Gods

by Adrian Howell

  “For the same reason she lets me be Terry’s friend,” Laila replied stoutly. “Good guys don’t hide.”

  I sorely wished that I could see the Guardians as the “good guys,” but I couldn’t. I remembered Ralph’s words when he first took me from my home: “There are no bad guys in this war, lad, because there aren’t any good guys either. It’s just survival, see?” I felt that I finally did see. Given the choice, I’d still side with the Guardians, but if they agreed to this blood trial under the Angels’ terms, then they weren’t all that better than the Angels themselves.

  Laila gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “So you had better be ready to protect me if something happens, Guardian Knight.”

  I nodded solemnly, and Laila giggled.

  The Council voted the following Tuesday afternoon, and naturally Cindy was the one who heard it first.

  “In two weeks’ time, the Guardians will meet the Angels in a gathering of lesser gods,” Cindy announced over dinner that evening.

  “And?” asked Terry, not meeting Cindy’s eyes.

  “You’re going, Terry,” Cindy said simply.

  Terry remained expressionless, nodding and saying quietly, “Good.”

  Cindy turned to me. “Adrian?”

  “I’m going too,” I replied. “Alia?”

  My sister nodded silently.

  Cindy would have to remain in New Haven to maintain her hiding bubble, and I had considered trying to convince Alia to change her mind and stay behind as well, especially after Laila’s warning about how blood trials could suddenly turn extra bloody. But after all that Alia had seen and done already, I knew it would be wrong. Besides, I could see in her eyes that there was absolutely no persuading her to stay at home this time, so why bother trying?

  “Who else has been chosen to fight?” asked Terry.

  Cindy replied, “The Lancer Knight Ms. Lillian Dallas, and your Mr. Jason Simms of the Ravens.”

  I had never heard of Ms. Dallas, but the fact that Mr. Simms had been selected to fight sparked my interest, and Terry shared it too.

  “I know Ms. Dallas is an amazing telekinetic and pyroid,” said Terry, “but why Mr. Simms? He’s an above-average pyroid, for sure, but not by much.”

  “I’m certain the Council has its reasons, Terry,” said Cindy. “After all, Mr. Simms does have a good deal of actual combat experience.”

  “Oh, sure, with guns,” grumbled Terry, still not at all convinced. “I should have been given a say in this. It’s my life, after all.”

  I was about to say something in agreement, but Terry quickly asked, “What’s Mr. Baker going to request of the Angels when we win?”

  “A ceasefire,” replied Cindy. “Five years of peace.”

  “It won’t last that long,” Terry said darkly. “It never does.”

  Cindy shrugged. “I’m guessing that Mr. Baker is hoping for a few years to wait out Larissa Divine’s natural life.”

  “He’ll be lucky to get a few weeks.”

  Terry disappeared into her room right after dinner. These past few days, Terry was always so tired out after spending her whole day in the dojo that she actually went to bed an hour before Alia. While my sister was singing herself silly in the bathtub, I sat cross-legged with Cindy on the living-room floor, but neither Cindy nor I was in a meditative mood.

  Looking up out of the living-room window at the cloudy night sky, I asked quietly, “You agree with Terry that the Angels would never give us five years of peace, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Adrian,” said Cindy. “The Angels would be bound to their agreement only until they could make an excuse to break it.”

  “Such as?” I asked.

  Cindy replied grimly, “They might use a puppeteer to take control of a Guardian Knight, make him attack one of the Angels’ own members, and then claim that the Guardians broke the peace. It’s been done that way in the past.”

  “And Mr. Baker believes that too, doesn’t he?”

  Cindy’s reflection in the glass nodded.

  I turned to her. “The Angels want something real, Cindy. They want Terry’s life. What’s Mr. Baker playing at? Why doesn’t he ask for something real in return?”

  By “something real,” I meant things along the lines of Cat, and perhaps Laila’s father, but I didn’t want to sound selfish.

  “I’m not exactly sure why Mr. Baker made his request, but I want you to be extra careful with Alia and Laila when you’re over there,” Cindy said in a concerned tone. “This whole thing may turn out to be a lot more dangerous than you think.”

  “I heard from Laila about the time there was an all-out battle, Cindy,” I said, trying not to make it sound like I was brushing off her warning. “But that was only once in seven hundred years.”

  “I know, Adrian,” Cindy said patiently, “but we haven’t had a blood trial in over half a century. And times have changed. Even back in an age when people put greater value on honor, it was a standard part of these gatherings to try to sneak something past the other side. Espionage, assassination... Today, there is no longer any honor in how people behave.”

  “You think the Angels will try something? You think they called for this trial just to...”

  But Cindy shook her head. “The Angels are the superior force, Adrian. They have less reason–”

  “You mean the Guardians!” I cut across her. “You think the Guardians will break the trust!”

  “I don’t attend every Council meeting, Adrian, so I can’t be sure, but I find it hard to believe that the Council would agree to this blood trial if there was nothing under the table. The Angels know that too. They’ll be expecting it, and so should you.”

  I took a moment to steady my breathing, and then asked, “Assuming the Guardians do try something, what should I do?”

  Cindy gave me a hesitant look. “Would it be too much to ask, Adrian, that you stay out of the way and keep the girls safe?”

  “Don’t worry, Cindy,” I said quietly. “I’ve learned my lesson more than once. I’ll be a good boy this time, okay?”

  Cindy smiled sweetly. “That’s all I ask.”

  That didn’t prevent me from being curious, though. During that week, between her daily physical training sessions in the subbasement, Terry made several visits to individual Council members’ homes and twice had dinner at Mr. Baker’s place on the thirty-ninth floor. Whenever I could, I pestered her for information, but Terry always answered, “It’s all need-to-know, and you don’t.”

  Our departure from New Haven was scheduled for the last day of April, and there were only three days left till then when Terry finally decided that her muscles hurt too much and she needed a half-day break from her training.

  Playing nine-ball with Terry before dinner that day, I asked, “You’re really looking forward to this trial, aren’t you, Terry?”

  “They wouldn’t allow me to go if I wasn’t,” Terry replied evenly. “Ms. Dallas is no different, Adrian. She has a personal score to settle too. Both of her parents were killed by the Angels.”

  “What about Mr. Simms?”

  “That’s his business,” said Terry, hinting at another need-to-know issue.

  I asked worriedly, “Do you really think Mr. Baker will hand you over to the Angels if we lose?”

  “If we lose, Adrian,” Terry said slowly, “I probably won’t be alive to find out. But the trial is two out of three, so there’s a chance I’ll still be breathing. Then we’ll know.” Terry chuckled, and then continued lightly, “Think positive, Adrian. I’ll win my round, and Ms. Dallas has a good chance of winning hers. Mr. Simms is the weakest link, and if he gets himself killed, you won’t have to worry about little what’s-her-name anymore.”

  “I don’t care about Grace and Charles right now, Terry,” I said, feeling genuinely insulted. “I’m worried about you.”

  “Well, don’t be!” snapped Terry. “I’ll be fine. You just make sure Alia and Laila stay safe.”

  This was the third time I had heard t
hat line. “Cindy already told me the same, Terry. What is going on here?”

  “You don’t want to know, Adrian.”

  “Yes I do, Terry!” I said angrily. “Cindy thinks that the Guardians are planning something dangerous. And don’t give me that need-to-know crap either. If I’m really supposed to keep anyone out of danger, I need to know what we’re up against.”

  Terry faced me across the pool table, giving me a long and hard look. Then she grinned, saying, “Alright, Half-head, but I can’t tell you everything. For starters, I don’t yet know everything, and I can’t tell you half of what I do know. I’m only going to say this once, so keep your ear open and your mouth shut.”

  “Just tell me what you can, Terry,” I said, annoyed at the ear remark.

  Terry smiled slyly. “Cindy’s right, of course. There’s plenty under the table, but for once, I actually know more about it than the Heart of New Haven. Blood trials have been going out of style for a while, and including the last one, which was more than fifty years ago, there have been only six in the last two centuries. Why would the Angels call for one now?”

  I shrugged. “Queen Divine must have liked Riles a lot.”

  “It was a rhetorical question, dummy!” said Terry, shaking her head. “First off, Riley O’Neal was never all that important to Larissa Divine. She’s lost closer people and didn’t ask for a blood trial. Think about this, Adrian: Blood trials are usually called for by the lesser of two factions because they’re the ones who stand to gain more from winning. Yet the Angels called for this trial. If the Angels really wanted to avenge Riles, they could have dealt us proportional damage without risking public exposure. There was never any real need for all this theater.”

  “Then why?” I asked.

  “Larissa just wanted an excuse to call for a trial.”

  “But you just said that blood trials are usually called by the lesser faction.”

  “Exactly,” said Terry. “That’s why this is all so fishy. The Council thinks that Larissa wants to start an all-out war to end this conflict for good, even if it means the risk of exposing psionics to the whole world. The Angels have really grown over the last few years, taking over many small Guardian settlements as well as assimilating other, lesser factions. Even fairly large organizations like the Meridian and the Avalon are losing ground fast.”

  “You mean if the Angels really wanted to, and if they didn’t care about being exposed, then they could crush us fairly easily?” I asked.

  “They could,” Terry said grimly. “But it’s also true that Larissa’s power as a master controller is waning in her old age. She’s probably having trouble finding the energy to keep converting new arrivals and reconverting those who would otherwise betray her. So while she still has the loyalty of her people, she needs to create an excuse to rouse them to arms.”

  I asked skeptically, “Why does a master controller, who can psionically control people’s loyalties, need an excuse to get her followers to attack us? Why can’t she just order them?”

  “Because only the very recently converted would jump to their deaths on their master’s say-so,” explained Terry. “And as you already know, Half-head, not every Angel is under conversion. There are plenty of followers who are loyal to the Angel cause but might not willingly support a move this big and dangerous. Besides, even those who are enslaved would be a lot more willing to fight if there is a legitimate reason.”

  “That’s why she wants a trial?”

  Terry nodded. “She’s going to be there, Adrian. In person. She knows the Guardians agreed to the blood trial only because we know she’ll be there, and she hopes we’re going to try to assassinate her during the tournament.”

  “Are we?” I asked.

  Terry laughed. “Of course we will, if we get the chance. But most likely, we won’t. That’s their trap. When we fail to kill her, the Angels can use our attempt as an excuse to attack us in full force.”

  Terry paused for a moment, and I said impatiently, “Go on.”

  Terry continued in a quiet tone, “What the Angels don’t know, Adrian, is that we now know who their younger master is, and she is going to be there too. If we can kill the second master, the Angels would be put into a very bad corner. Larissa Divine probably won’t be able to declare an all-out war over Number Two’s death since the second master’s identity is unknown even to most Angels. And even if it does turn into a war, we’d probably still be able to keep the Angels at bay until Larissa dies of old age, and then they would break apart like the Guardians did after Diana Granados was killed. Maybe then, the Angels will give up their plans to take control of the world.”

  Mr. Baker had once said that the Angels’ monopoly on master controllers was costing us this war. Ending that monopoly was the only way to even the balance of power.

  “Sounds like a real long shot,” I decided.

  “The Council thinks it’s the best shot we have. And if we succeed...” Terry grinned. “Once Larissa dies of old age...”

  I grinned too. “Cat would be free.”

  Terry nodded. “Everyone would be free. Everyone who wants to be, anyway.”

  Even if the Guardians’ plot succeeded, it would still take several years before Queen Divine died of old age, but with any luck, it might be before Cat was old enough to develop psionic powers and be conscripted into the Angel-Guardian war. As long a shot as this might be, it was definitely worth a shot.

  “There are no master controllers anywhere else in the world today,” said Terry, looking into my eyes. “Do you know what that means?”

  I did. “Imagine a world without masters,” I breathed. “Everyone would be free... forever.”

  Terry nodded. “So you see, Adrian, that this trial is much bigger than any of us. Dead Riles and I are just tiny cogs in the gears.”

  “Yet you seem to know an awful lot about the gearbox,” I said evenly.

  Terry chuckled. “The Council thinks that Ms. Dallas, Mr. Simms and I are among the most likely to come close enough to the Angels to take out the second master. That’s why we were let in on this. Mr. Simms was chosen specifically because, despite being the leader of the Ravens, he is actually one of the best psionic blockers in New Haven. No Angel mind controller is going to stop him from acting if he gets the chance. In addition, we have a dedicated team of Lancer Knights that will try to infiltrate the Angel witnesses and assassinate Number Two. We’re leaving as little to chance as we can.”

  I asked, “Who is the second master?”

  “You mean what’s her name?” asked Terry. “I haven’t been told yet. Names are among the easiest things to delve out of people’s minds, even from a mild distance, so only a few select members of the Council currently know the master’s name. Everyone who needs to know will be given her name at the last possible moment, along with a complete physical description, and believe me, nobody is going to tell you.”

  “I suppose it doesn’t matter,” I said, shrugging. “Still, I’m glad that the raid on the Slayer camp turned out to be worth it. The Guardians did learn who the Angels’ second master was, after all.”

  Terry shook her head. “Actually, Adrian, we didn’t find anything on Number Two at the Holy Land.”

  I stared at her, trying to make sense of the strangely pleased look she was giving me.

  Suddenly Terry smiled broadly and said, “We found it at your Slayer house, Adrian! It was in the computer files we pulled from Father Lestor’s study. Even the great Historian never knew who the Angels’ Number Two was. If you hadn’t been caught, we might never have discovered her identity.”

  I threw Terry a wry grin and said, “Well, I’m glad to have been of service.”

  Terry laughed. “You get caught wonderfully, Adrian.”

  I had no rejoinder to that. I certainly couldn’t claim to have done anything deliberate that led to the Guardians stumbling upon this important information, but at least a small part of the pain I had gone through was now worth it.

  “Adr
ian, listen close, okay?” said Terry, and I was surprised at the fear in her voice. “You might be getting tired of hearing this, but I’m going to tell you again. Keep Alia and Laila safe! If we do succeed in killing the second master, there’s really no telling what will happen next. Laila is my best friend and Alia is as good as a sister to me now. Keep them safe, Adrian! Trust me, and trust the Guardians to do the rest.”

  I trusted Terry, of course, but my trust in the Guardians was far from solid. There were two hundred and fifty Guardians going to witness this blood trial, and only a handful of them knew the real purpose of their trip. Certainly everyone going would know that an all-out war is possible, but just like anyone getting into a car knows that a crash is possible, the Guardian witnesses weren’t actually expecting a war, and thus weren’t going to be properly prepared. Even though I could appreciate the significance of what the Guardian Council was attempting, that they would risk these people’s lives for the sake of their secret agenda made me wonder whether a world without master controllers would really be all that different.

  I counted down the final days to our departure spending as much time with Cindy as I could, cooking with her and helping her with all the chores around the house. As usual, Alia stuck close to us, and though I knew Terry was preparing for what might be the last moments of her life, I still managed to pretend for a short while that we were a normal, peaceful, happy family.

  On the morning of our departure, Cindy gave Alia and me two full weeks’ worth of individual hiding protection each, and I was genuinely grateful for it. Then Terry, Alia and I took turns hugging Cindy goodbye. Cindy had agreed not to follow us out of the penthouse, making her farewells comparatively short and tolerable.

  Cindy said to Terry, “I know I’m not your mother, Terry, but as your employer, I have to insist that you come home alive. That’s an order.”

  Terry chuckled at that, giving Cindy a smart salute and replying, “Understood, Ms. Gifford!”

  Cindy turned to Alia next, holding her tightly and saying, “I love you, Alia. Be safe, and make sure you mind your brother and Terry, okay?”