Authors: Adrian Howell
“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.
“Adrian, 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?”
Understandably, Alia answered with her telepathy.
I asked her, “Are you really sure you don’t need to take your unicorn, Ali?”
Alia shook her head and said aloud, “I’ll be okay, Addy. Really!”
Cindy had already suggested this twice the day before, but my sister insisted that she would be fine without her favorite horned beast. I was pretty sure that she was just putting on a brave face for Cindy and me, but I didn’t press the matter any further. If Alia really wanted to play Guardian Knight and rough it out, she had the right.
Terry helped Alia with her bag as they left the penthouse together, leaving me behind with Cindy. Earlier that morning, I had asked Terry to guarantee me some time alone with Cindy before we left New Haven.
Cindy didn’t seem at all surprised at my lingering, turning to me and saying with a brave smile, “So, once more unto the breach, huh?”
Not having read any Shakespeare at that age, I hadn’t a clue what she meant by that, but I nodded anyway.
Cindy hugged me and said, “Remember that you promised to be good this time, Adrian. Stay out of trouble.”
Two weeks ago, Cindy had suggested that I would be facing dangers I didn’t know, but it was Cindy who didn’t understand just how dangerous this was going to be. Before I left New Haven, I had to ask her one last, burning question.
“Do you still trust the Guardians, Cindy? I mean, do you trust the Council?”
Cindy let out a quiet sigh. “I’ll admit my confidence in the Council has been shaken a bit recently. But there are good people on the Council too, like Laila’s mother.”
“But that’s the exception,” I argued. “You know they’re wrong to accept this trial.”
“I know,” Cindy said calmly. “But don’t forget that it was the same Council that voted to rescue you from the Slayers last year.”
“Which they never would’ve done if I wasn’t your son,” I pointed out.
Cindy smiled. “You have to try to see the good in people, Adrian. Especially when it looks like there isn’t any.”
I remained silent. Cindy peered into my eyes and asked gently, “What’s the matter? Are you having second thoughts about going?”
I shook my head. Then I hugged her again and whispered, “I’ll bring them back safe, Cindy. I promise.”
Chapter 14: The Arena and the Phantom
The once-thriving industrial town had closed the last of its three factories over two decades ago, and the population had dropped to less than a fifth of what it once was. What remained was a mess of derelict houses, crumbling apartments and boarded up store windows. The few residents who remained were those who had nowhere else to turn. The town didn’t even have an operational movie theater, to say nothing of any kind of tourist attraction, so an observant citizen might have wondered why there was a sudden surge of motorcycles, sedans, SUVs, vans, minibuses and motorhomes pouring in from who-knew-where.
We weren’t just passing through. On the outskirts of this town lay the abandoned factory where we would meet the Angels in a gathering of lesser gods. The first such gathering in more than half a century.
The Angels had already arrived several days prior, and I didn’t know their exact vehicle count, but the Guardian rides alone numbered nearly a hundred. I was sitting in the back of Cindy’s Guardian-issued silver sports sedan. Alia was curled up at my side, fast asleep, and Laila sat up front next to Terry, who was driving.
Over the course of the four-day journey here, Terry had taught me how to drive, saying that, since I could see again, it was high time I learned to do something useful. I discovered that Terry, though still unlicensed, was actually a conscientious driver when she wasn’t tearing through the city in a stolen police car. After a few hours on the freeway and some practice during our evening rest stops, I had become fairly confident in everything but parallel parking. Laila still didn’t trust my skills enough, though, so whenever I was at the wheel, she rode in her mother’s small camper, taking Alia with her. Terry obviously didn’t trust me yet either, because once we got closer to the town and the Angels waiting in the factory beyond, she took the wheel. Just in case.
In a blood trial, the challenged party – the Guardians in this case – got to choose their champions first, but the challengers prepared the location. The Angels had probably paid off or psionically dealt with town officials to keep prying eyes out of our gathering. If there were any vagrants staying in the abandoned factory, the Angels would have seen to it that they quietly disappeared.
The Angels weren’t quite kind enough to send us a gold-embossed invitation card with a detailed map of the factory, but we weren’t going in blind. The Guardian Knights had obtained prints of the factory layout and passed them out to all the witnesses prior to leaving New Haven. Though I had already committed it to memory, I glanced over my copy again as Terry followed the Guardian car train out of the town and up a pitted asphalt road.
The main factory building was a monstrous rectangular concrete structure. According to the map, the building ran north-south, and was nearly twice as long as it was wide. The visitor and employee parking lot was to its south, just inside the main gate. There was a separate square three-story office building in the southeast corner of the compound, and across from a service road that ran along the east side of the factory building sat a neat row of warehouses. At the north end of the service road was a loading area where a fleet of semi-trailers could park. This was where the Angels had set up their camp. The Guardians would take the front parking lot near the office building.
As we approached the main gate, I woke my sister and helped her tighten her seatbelt. We had driven several miles from the town’s last derelict home, and I suspected that even the sound of a small cannon blast wouldn’t carry back to civilization from here. While I had been reassured many times that the Angels would be politically cutting their own throats were they to ambush us upon our arrival, I remembered Cindy’s warning about the loss of honor in modern times, and braced myself.