The Brotherhood - Believe It Or Not Part 9

"I wouldn't know. I've never seen her in this guise before."

"Guise? What do you mean, 'guise'? And she's not your pet? Then how... no, wait, I know what you're going to say. Magic."

Martin tapped the side of his nose. "See? You can learn."

Harrisonsaid nothing. Words were useless with Martin. Resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be getting his pants back anytime soon, he settled in to watch the cat drink her cream. Funny, really. He didn't like cats any more than usual, but there was something peculiarly charming about this one. Familiar, as if he knew her, too.

He looked closer and tried to figure out why he seemed to remember her. When he spotted the studded collar she wore,Harrison had to bite his tongue to keep from swearing a blue streak. "You might not have seen her before, but I have."

Martin gave him a look of genuine curiosity. "Really? Do tell."

"For the past couple of weeks or so, a black cat has been sneaking into my house no matter how hard I try to keep her out. I'd swear this is the same one. Ha! If you're a Magician, why don't you wave your magic wand or something, and tell me how she manages her tricks?"

"Mmm. Some things aren't my secrets to reveal. But if this is the same cat, and she's been paying you the honor of not one but repeated visits, you're a very lucky man. You just don't know it yet."

The cat finished her cream and burped delicately. After briskly washing off her whiskers, she patted Martin's hand with one paw, turned about, and b.u.t.ted her forehead hard againstHarrison 's before he had time to react.

Apparently well-satisfied, she hopped down from the table and minced off to take care of her ownbusiness.Harrison wanted to rub the spot on his forehead where the cat had bonked him. It tingled in a strange way he didn't like and couldn't understand, warmth radiating through his body from the spot she'd touched. The gesture felt similar to a blessing, another thingHarrison didn't believe in.

"My, my, my," Martin clucked, sounding impressed. "Talk about luck."

"You don't believe black cats are bad luck?"

"Are you kidding? I'm asorcerer . We love cats of any color."

"Wasn't that 'Magician'?"

"Magician. Sorcerer. Mage. Witch. Warlock. Wizard. Lots of fancy names with gobs of meaning attached to each designation, with different ways of going about things: good, bad, indifferent, you name it. They use the power as they prefer, but when you break it down to the basics, that power all stems from the same source. They'd flay me alive for being so flip, but h.e.l.l, I'm older than they are. Most of them. I do prefer 'Magician,' but I don't really care what you call me, as long as you say it with respect and in the belief that I am what I say I am."

"We're back on that again, are we?"

"Naturally. Why else, as you've reminded me time and time again, would you be here? And where were we... ah! Yes." Martin s.n.a.t.c.hedHarrison 's hand and dragged it toward him. "I'll be telling yer future, laddie."

Harrisontried to yank away from Martin. "The h.e.l.l you will." d.a.m.n him, but Martin had a strong grip.

"Stop this at once."

"No chance, pet." Martin scannedHarrison 's palm, nodding and murmuring and clicking his tongue.

"What do I spy with my little eye? All sorts of things, that's what. You're a man on a journey,Harrison ."

"I'm sure. And I'll travel across great waters to meet a tall, dark, and handsome man, will I?"

"Don't be stupid. You have a trim, blond, and delightfully attractive man already."

"Do I, now?"

"You do." When Martin looked up, his playful comedy mask had slipped to once again reveal the face of someone with great intensity and danger.Harrison swallowed as his wariness returned in full force.

"d.a.m.n!"

"What?"

Martin narrowly examinedHarrison 's palm, shaking his head. "Straight up? What I see here tells me our paths are linked together, beginning with this night. Believe it or believe it not, we're bound, one to the other, and never shall the twain be parted, come what may, et cetera."

"You and me? Bound? I seriously doubt it."Harrison scoffed, though his voice shook a little.

If looks could kill, Martin would have laid him out flat with the power of his glare. "Not just bound in flesh and bone, but in soul, life after life. And before you get way up on your high horse, I'm not any toohappy about this discovery myself. I didn't ask to have my soul entwined with a stubborn, mulish non-believer. On the other hand, no pun intended, I am not stupid enough to try and buck fate."

"There is no such thing as fate. The course of a man's life depends on the choices he makes."

"Of course it does. Congratulations. You're right for once. You're wrong, too. The Third Eye -- go ahead, snort and paw in disbelief -- is opening, and Lord have mercy, what I do see?"

"Third Eye."

"Something we Magicians call a window into the future -- and the past, if the Third Eye is willing to grant a talented pract.i.tioner a look backward. Usually the recent past, but if you get lucky, the long-since past.

I don't know why history is cloudy and all those possible futures are clear, but them's the breaks. You still don't believe in magic? Then, tell me how else I could know what I know now."

Martin jabbedHarrison 's palm. "When you were twelve, you kept a garter snake as a pet in a s...o...b..x.

The wyrm terrified you, but you forced yourself to hold it every day and let it wrap itself around your neck and arms until you weren't scared anymore."

"How did you know that?"

"Magic!" Martin snapped. "Want more proof? Your mother always baked snickerdoodles when you came home with an 'A' on your report card."

"Stop,"Harrison warned. "I don't know how you're doing this, but stop."

Martin ignored him. "Your father was a drunken sot who most often sat on the couch building towers of empty beer cans until he decided to go off for a weekend with some drinking buddies and never came back. You were nine."

"Stop, I said."

"You don't know how to ride a bicycle. Youdo know how to ride a horse."

"Martin!"

"At twenty-one, you chickened out at the last minute before getting your nipple pierced. The left nipple.

You still dream about how good the metal would feel hooked in there and wish you had done it after all."

"Please,"Harrison begged hoa.r.s.ely, shivering creeps crawling ferociously up and down his spine.

Martin's voice dropped into a low hush, no less commanding for its lack of volume. "When you were eighteen, the summer before you went off to college, you made friends with a really nice guy who'd just moved into the neighborhood. He was almost twenty years older, but still lean and fair, and claimed to be a wizard. He could do so many amazing things -- light a candle with the snap of his fingers, see visions in what he called a scrying gla.s.s, draw sparkling patterns in the air, and even float. He was so enchanting.

So fascinating. For more reasons than one. You had only recently figured out why you'd rather look at other boys instead of the pretty young girls."

"Stop, stop, stop!" "I can't. His name was Thyne. You fell in love with him, and when he kissed you, you thought the two of you would be together forever. But, no, you were there at his house learning how to pull a rabbit from a hat when he clutched his chest and fell over the snacks laid out on his wooden kitchen table."

"Stop!"

"Not going to happen. When Thyne died is when you stopped believing in magic. When you decided it was your job to teach the world magic wasn't real. It couldn't save your first true love, so belief in mystical powers was pointless."

Harrisonhadn't thought about Thyne in years, or how much he'd loved the man. G.o.d. Oh, G.o.d.

Watching Thyne die in front of his eyes. Helpless to do anything. "d.a.m.n you!"Harrison meant the curse.

"Too late. I was d.a.m.ned long ago. But here's my point: for all you've done to convince the world it isn't real, magic does exist,Harrison . You've been touched by magic throughout your life. Think back, and you'll understand what I mean."

Harrisonswallowed on a dry throat as, against his will, memories began to well up.

Surviving not one but three car accidents -- each of which should have killed him.

Getting into an Ivy League collegeand being able to afford it through the random whim of a far-flung, eccentric, and generous relative.

The dreams that haunted him every night.

Further back -- A glimpse of watching soap bubbles turn into b.u.t.terflies.

Talking to frogs in the lily pond behind his house.

Pretending fireflies were fairies, and laughing as they flew around his head in swarms.

Recognizing he was gay in a glorious burst of revelation that felt like fireworks going off.

Learning, with Thyne, the glory and power in another man's kiss.

The window in the wall of Amour Magique.

Lily. Gargoyles. Tarot cards. Black cats.

Magic.

"You see?" Martin's voice grew husky, and his grip onHarrison 's hand was sensually clinging before he released it. "I know about all of this, and more."

"Please..."Harrison wasn't sure what he was asking for, comfort or solitude.

"Shh, shh. It'll be okay." Harrisonshook his head.

"You feel small and helpless, don't you?"

Harrisonnodded. Then, he hid his face in his hands.

"There's something that can make you feel better. Another thing I know for sure now is how you're so tired of being the one in command all the time. You've ached to surrender yourself and let someone else carry the weight. You've burned for relief from the pressure, but before tonight you didn't know how to find a vent that worked. That's why you gave in the way you did, pet. Youneeded me to dominate you."

Harrisonglanced up. Martin's bi-colored eyes glowed with a dark fire. "You need it again. Now. You need to learn how to find the magic once more and how to relearn the art of being at peace with yourself." The Magician stood. "I have a bedroom just through the doorway hidden behind the tapestry.

Come with me, Harrison. You want to."

Harrisondid want to. He went, head bowed. Heart pounding with excitement.

He went.

Chapter Six.

Step by step,Harrison entered the heart of Martin's quarters. The Magician's bedroom. He couldn't lie to himself and protest he was doing this against his will. No, he wanted to go. At the same time, he felt terrified. Felt as if he were giving up something he'd loved and treasured and clung to for years, no matter how heavy the weight.

"Let go,Harrison . You'll be astonished and thrilled, I promise. Everything you hold so tightly to is a burden you do want to drop, honest and true." Martin walked besideHarrison , guiding him with one elegant hand wrapped aroundHarrison 's upper arm, and spoke quietly. His voice rose and fell in a lulling rhythm that madeHarrison both sleepy -- no, not sleepy, just stripped of the tension he was used to carrying -- and yet kept him keenly alert.

Without carpets to cushion their steps, their footsteps sounded louder on the stone floors, even though their feet were bare. The slap of flesh against rock echoed in an eerie cadence.Harrison paused, feeling as if the sounds of walking were ugly and awkward. That he was out of place.

"No, no," Martin urged, gently pullingHarrison along. "You belong here. Don't be afraid."

Harrisonwanted to huff indignantly and say he wasnot afraid, that he didn't fear anything, because people only feared the unknown, andhe understood the way the world worked. A mundane world built by men's sweat and labor, not by the forces of magic and mystery that induced dread.

The problem was, he didn't think he believed his own rhetoric anymore.

So where did that leave him?

He kept his head down as he shuffled forward, Martin crooning encouragement every step of the way.

Most of the words went over his head, butHarrison caught a s.n.a.t.c.h of speech every now and then."Good" and "pet," mostly.

A door shut behind them, not slamming, but with a sound of finality as stone grated against stone.Harrison drew to a stop, suddenly filled with a mad impulse to turn around and run back, to wrench at the main door until the gateway opened and he could escape.

"Shh. It's all right." Martin placed two fingers underHarrison 's chin and guided his head up. "I'll let you go if you decide you really want to. But I don't think you do. You're still so afraid,Harrison . I want to help you conquer that fear." He clucked his tongue soothingly. "I'm not saying this is going to be easy, but nothing worth having ever comes without at least a little struggle."

WhichHarrison knew to be true. A single fact he could cling to. "All right," he said, realizing that he'd closed his eyes somewhere between leaving the Magician's visiting room and this private place. "Okay."

"You make me proud of you already by coming this far. Now, open your eyes and look around. See?

This isn't a bad place. It's really very nice, if I do say so myself. Decorated it with my own two hands and a bit of magic. It'sfine . Indulge your curiosity the way a small part of you wants to. Nothing's going to hurt you unless or until you want to be hurt."

A strange turn of phrase.Harrison shivered but parted his eyelids.

"Oh." His lips parted. "Oh."

"Well?" Martin asked with a touch of amus.e.m.e.nt. "What do you think?"

Harrisonshook his head, utterly lost for words. He thought about shambling forward to touch and smell and even taste, but the sight of Martin's quarters alone all but overwhelmed his senses. Climbing one fence at a time would be the only safe way to accept this room.