Sons (Book 2) (111 page)

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” Harmond asked.

“No, General, now I am dealing with a problem,” I said.  “But you might want to pass the word around.  If I’m pressed into another test, I will be most angry, as will my brothers if they are likewise tested.  We were doing the right thing and involving the law.  You’re teaching us that is a bad thing to do.  Is that the lesson you want us to learn?”

“No, absolutely not,” Harris said.

“Especially since the Fifties, eh, Mr. Harris?” I said with a grin.  “General, the first favor I will require of you is simple transportation of pairs of my Guards to various ports around the world.  Nothing spectacular, they can accompany your normal troop transports and I don’t require any knowledge of any secret bases or anything.  I’ll send someone on Friday to begin coordinating with Cpt. Thorn.

“And I won’t keep you waiting on the rest,” I said, as Sgt. Morton returned to the room, taking position at the beginning of the hall and waiting.  “I’ll return in a few hours with some things I’d like delivered.  Yes, I know, not a task usually performed by the various branches of the military, but I need them there by tomorrow morning and they’re not places normally supported by the Post Office.  You might need to forewarn whomever is in charge of the Middle East Theater that you’re going to require a few helicopters.”

“I don’t have that authority, Lord Daybreak,” Harmond said, surprised.

“Then speak to Mr. Dominick.  He has the necessary influence,” I told him.  “As I said, I don’t like working within the Accords, gentlemen.  I prefer a friendlier, more natural relationship, perhaps even business-like.  I had assumed, perhaps mistakenly, that was why you were involved, General Harmond, instead of Mr. Dominick and his department.”

“No, sir, not quite,” Harmond said.  “Yours is an unusual situation that I was brought in on after the cock up that covert affairs and Dominick made of their first attempt to handle it.  Usually my office deals with lawyers and diplomats.”

I smiled.  “So you’re not used to dealing with raving lunatics who run through the building with men on fire, is that what you’re saying?”  He glanced over nervously at Sgt. Morton, who smiled slyly at him.

“A fair assessment, yes, sir,” said Harmond.

“Hopefully, that will not become an issue,” I said, still cheerful.  “I’ll be back in a few hours, gentlemen.  Until then, good day.”

The Honor Guard snapped to attention and slammed their staves to the ground again.  I shifted the ten of us to the Throne Room in the Palace before the echoes bounced from the walls of Harmond’s office, releasing the field that held the doors closed at the same time.

“Well done, guys!  Very impressive,” I said to the Honor Guard as their armor began melting into their uniforms.

“Yes, very fierce!  Exactly what Lord Daybreak wanted,” Jimmy said, smiling.  “Thank you, gentlemen.  You’re dismissed.”  Barely concealing their smiles, the eight Guardsmen snapped to attention then ran for the door along the Road.  Once out of sight, their excitement at the compliments exceeded their control and we heard their shouts.  They were actually joyous over a simple compliment from First and me.  Part of it was the geas and Gilán, but sadly, the greater part was that over their lives, they simply hadn’t received many compliments, even of the “you did adequate” variety.  Was it any wonder they felt abandoned by their previous world?

“The guys are examining Lucian now,” I said, after brushing the anchor lightly.  “Let’s go have a quick look see and grab some lunch.”

Jimmy snorted.  “Great!  A desiccated body before a meal, and I complained about third period biology last year.”

“What happened there?” I asked, shifting us to a point near my brothers’ position in the Cahill’s cemetery.

“We dissected frogs and guinea pigs,” he answered distastefully.  “Formaldehyde smells wonderful in the morning.  And for the rest of the day, too.”

“You got off lucky, then,” I said as we approached the small collection of men around the casket on the ground beside the gravesite.  “I had to witness a quadruple by-pass, an intestinal resection, and removal of a brain tumor.”

“On people?” Jimmy asked, aghast.

“Well, yeah, there aren’t too many by-pass surgeries done on guinea pigs, ya know,” I said with a small chuckle.

A steady breeze pushed at our backs as we approached.  Shirtless and sweaty, Peter leaned against a shovel pushed into a large pile of dirt at the end of the casket housing the body of Lucian.  Both Kieran and Ethan leaned over the side of the open box, dirt and grime coated the sides, proving it had been in the ground awhile.  Two more shovels and another pile of dirt were at the other end.  They were both dirty and sweaty, too, so at least they hadn’t taken advantage of Peter.

“Hey,” Peter and I grunted at each other as I came up beside him.

“Find out anything yet?” I asked quietly.

“Not yet, but we’ve only had it up a few minutes,” he said just as quietly.  “Nothing in the dirt or on the coffin looked unusual to any of us, though.”

I was not that anxious to look, but I moved to the far side of Ethan and peered into the casket, too.  There wasn’t any physical embalming done to the body.  I didn’t know if that was because there was so little body left or if it was some part of the Pact or other magic-related ceremony, but there was a sigil in the inside top of the casket that should have sped the rate of biological decay.  It bore Kieran’s energy signature.

Lucian looked everything but peaceful lying there on the satin pillow.  Kieran dressed him in the clothes we found him in, with a replica of the happy face balloon at his feet.  Kieran’s spell worked well as most of the body was a gelatinous mass around a skeleton waiting for bacteria and nature to take its course, but in a closed environment, that was taking time.  The skull and most of the brain tissue was still intact, oddly.  Well, oddly to me, anyway.

Ethan exhaled in a long breath.  “I don’t see anything that would say the body has been tampered with.”

“Me, neither,” Kieran said, shaking his head ruefully.  “And I don’t see any more evidence of mind-control spells than I did before he died, but it’s obvious he was being controlled somehow.”

Looking down at the tightly drawn skin on Lucian’s pained face, a series of thoughts occurred to me.  Slipping below the surface, I looked down at his Pact and Lock and watched it turn slowly in place, suspicious of its presence.  “Really?” I said.  “Because I see a problem fairly quickly myself.” 

Looking back at the castle, I found my father sitting alone outside a counselor’s office reading a book and waiting for my mother’s return.  He seemed settled and prepared to wait, so I assumed he’d be there for some time.

Dad?
I called through the key that he carried in a small pouch attached by a leather cord around his neck. 
Could you spare a few minutes?

Sure, son,
he replied silently, closing the book. 
What can I do for you?

An unpleasant task, unfortunately, but it’s about the ‘family business,’
I sent through his diamond. 
May I bring you to us?

Yes, of course
, he said, standing and beginning to worry.  I wrapped him in a portal and brought him to the cemetery.

“Sorry about this, Dad, but we’ve had a few incidents today that have caused us to be suspicious of Lucian’s death,” I said as I stepped away from the coffin.  Kieran had gone back to studying the body, looking for what I had seen so quickly.

“Damn, I should have seen that,” Kieran muttered after a few seconds.  Dad was looking around quickly, taking in his surroundings and trying to figure out what was going on.

“Not having been trained in too many ways, my question is fairly simple,” I continued.  “How long does the Pact stay with the body once it dies?”

He looked surprised by the question, but answered quickly.  “Not long at all.  It begins to implode on itself as soon as the soul and mind depart and stop feeding it the energy it requires to sustain itself.  The longest I’ve seen personally is about twenty minutes, but there have been rumors of as long as thirty-five minutes.  Why?”

I gestured at the casket, inviting him to look.  Ethan stepped out of the way, moving over with Peter and Jimmy.  Dad went to the coffin and looked in, shivering in disgust but braving the goo nonetheless.  He stared at the skull for a long moment.

“That’s not possible,” he said, finally.  “That should have dissipated already.  Something is very wrong here.  Why is his head still intact but his body has decomposed so badly?”

“My guess would be that whatever is sustaining the Pact past its normal time is also sustaining the skull,” Kieran said.  “But this should not be happening at all.  Where is the energy coming from?  Seth, do you see it?”

“Incoming energy?  No, I don’t see any,” I answered.  “To me, it appears to be operating quite normally, sort of self-perpetuating.”

“Yes, I would have to agree,” Dad said.  “It appears to be perfectly normal.  If he were alive and well, it would be normal, but that is obviously not the case.  This was Lucian?”

“Yes, sir,” Kieran said uneasily.  “He’s been dead about a week.  I was with him when he died.  I saw his soul depart his body and his mind quit working.  It was definitely Lucian.  He even rang Seth’s bells once.”

Dad grimaced, ending it with a grin.  “Sorry, son.  Lucian was always heavy-handed on that.  I’m sure it was loud.”

“Like standing in the belfry of St. Mary’s Cathedral,” I complained.

“So what’s making it stay?” Kieran asked Dad.

“I have no idea,” he answered.

“Then let’s change the question,” I said.  “Is it real?”

“What do you mean?” Dad asked, perplexed but taking me seriously and studying the Pact and Lock carefully.

“Could what we’re looking at here be a fake or maybe a reflection of the real thing?  Maybe Lucian is still alive somewhere and this projection never stopped,” I explained.  It was a weak supposition, I knew, but it would answer a few other questions.

“That would mean this wasn’t truly Lucian,” Kieran said, considering the question carefully.  “That would require a much more fundamental control on him than a mind control spell would allow.”

“Perhaps the kind that would aggravate a pixie?” I asked.  “I mean, I know it’s not scientific method or anything, but Shrank didn’t complain about Gramps like he did Lucian.”

“What?” Dad asked.  “You two have really got to tell me what’s happened in the past few months.  Trying to catch up through picking up conversations is confusing.”

Grinning, I said, “Then why don’t you and Mom come by for dinner tonight and we’ll get started on that.  Ethan?”  I looked over at him, knowing he was going to be uncomfortable about this.

He gave me a small smile and said, “I’ll be there, little brother.”  Peter nodded when I looked to him.  Of course, Jimmy would be there unless I sent him away.  That meant I needed to go shopping.

“You aren’t going to invite Ehran?” Dad asked.

“When I can get more of his attention,” I said.  “Look at him.  Ya wanna bum money off him?  Now would be a damn good time.”  I waved vaguely at the vast muscular back of my brother as he leaned in closer over the casket scowling into the base of the skull on the pillow.  “He’s totally intent on how that is fueled.  Until he’s figured it out or somebody tells him or drags him off, which is what I’m gonna do soon since he’s helping me cook dinner.”

“I’m going to what?” Kieran asked backing away from the casket a little.  “I could have sworn I heard someone around my ankles chattering about volunteering me for work.  That’s what I have apprentices for, especially when some do things better than I do.”  Crossing my arms on my chest, I just gawked at him for a few seconds.

“I don’t think he’s buying it, Ehran,” Dad said, laughing.  “I’ve seen that look before.  His mother has one just like it.  Whatever you do, don’t turn around.  If you turn around, you’re a lost cause.”

“I didn’t think it would, Dad,” Kieran said, laughing lightly, not an easy task with your head and shoulders shoved into a coffin.  “There’s a stubborn streak that runs through this family that’s about ten miles wide.  I should know, sharing in it.”

“I’ll say,” Dad said, laughing harder.

“Sounds like you should have agreed to an exchange, Seth,” Ethan called, grinning.  “There must be a good story or two in there somewhere.”

“Ten or twelve,” Dad commented dryly, smiling.

“I can’t see what’s doing it,” Kieran said, frustrated.  I moved in beside him and looked again.  Dad moved in beside me.

Examining the sigil at the top, Dad said, “It looks like you buried him correctly.  I wonder why the skull and brain tissue are still intact.”

“Kieran, does it look a little weaker than Dad’s to you?” I asked.  “Maybe ‘weaker’ isn’t the right word, I don’t know…”

“No, I see what you mean.  It’s paler.  I would expect that compared to yours, but Dad and Lucian should be roughly comparable in strength,” Kieran answered.

“Ehh, not really,” Dad disagreed.  “Lucian was barely a pup to me.  He was only about a hundred, hundred and ten years old.  He was good, I admit, but I’m better.”

“And just how did you turn out humble?” Peter asked me, leaning over my shoulder.  I shrugged the other shoulder so I wouldn’t hit his chin, not knowing if he was kidding or not.  Humility hadn’t been a strong suit lately.