Ehyeh-asher-ehyeh (I am that I am)
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TWILIGHT OF THE GODS"In those days when He hath brought a grievous fire upon you, whither will ye flee, and where will ye find deliverance? And when He launches forth His Word against you, will you not be affrighted and fear? And all the luminaries shall be affrighted with great fear, and all the earth shall be affrighted and tremble and be alarmed. And all the angels shall execute their commandst and shall seek to hide themselves from the presence of the Great Glory, and the children of earth shall tremble and quake; and ye sinners shall be cursed for ever, and ye shall have no peace."
Apocrypha Mexico March 28, 2013 Two hours after dropping Amanda and Cassandra at Glasgow Airport, the Ancient Gathering flew to Mexico City in Heru-sa-aset's jet, where they confirmed the existence and the location of the village of Texistepec to the southeast. They then flew to a lovely southeast city closer to their destination. From there they set out in three well-stocked Jeeps. Elena loved the warmth of the sun, the sound of the soft rain, the lilt of Spanish tongues and native voices; and the sight of so many natives in their beautiful white clothes and their gentle faces. She felt wonderfully immersed in the rich cultural milieu of a foreign and still-unspoiled place. No wonder Corazón Negro loved this country. The others had been considerate enough to let the lovers have a Jeep to themselves—the first time she'd been alone with the Aztec for quite a while, regardless of their task ahead, Elena found herself happy, for a change. It was as if she was young again, and the sight of Corazón Negro, poised and commanding, beside her was comforting and stimulating. The Aztec drove their jeep like a maniac, but as long as the two cars in their caravan kept up with them, Elena didn't complain. She chose not to think about Lilitu and her powers. She decided to simply trust in God, to whom she had sent more prayers than she could count, and in the strength of the Ancient Gathering. The jungle was breathtaking. Banana and citrus trees all but blocked their way on both sides of the narrow, winding uphill drive; here and there giant mahogany trees soared to 150 feet; and out of the high canopy above came the frightening but unmistakable roar of the howler monkeys and the cries of the countless species of exotic birds. The world around them was drenched in green. Because of the uneven roads and steep hills, again and again they found themselves on a high promontory from which they could view the canopy of the jungle as it spread out over the volcanic landscape below.
life. A dense mist settled over the vegetation permeating everything, at times it was so dense that it acted as a foggy screen keeping out all but a few rays of sunlight that managed to strain through. Elena inhaled deeply, taking in the rich smells and sensations created by the dampness of the forest. Like beads of moisture, dewdrops stuck to everything they came in contact with. It felt good against her face and skin. Her mind wandered as Corazón Negro drove on through the narrow and ever winding roads.
asked.
"I promise you, everything is going to be all right." Corazón Negro said trying to sound reassuring. "Now that we are together again, I'm sure of it," she said, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.
government of Mexico had forgotten that it even existed. It was a small grouping of dull wooden- roofed houses. There were pigs and turkeys roaming about everywhere. Elena spied some corn cut from the jungle, but nothing more—not a single sign of technology. In a sense, it was as if time had stopped there. When their Jeeps pulled in, the local inhabitants came out to greet them quite benevolently, enforcing Elena's opinion that the native Indians were some of the most enchanting people in the world. They were for the most part women, dressed in pretty white garments with remarkable embroidery on them. She saw faces about her which reminded her immediately of her beloved Mapuche.
nearest chicle ranch, they told Corazón Negro, the only one of their party who understood their dialect. Elena wondered if it was forced labor, but decided it was best not to ask. This was no vacation. Theirs was nothing less than a hunting party. She knew she must keep that in mind. As for the women, they often walked many miles in a day to offer their skillfully woven baskets and embroidered linens for sale at a big native market. They were thankful for a chance to display their wares at home, because Myrddin, Heru-sa-aset and Aylón bought a substantial amount of their hand made goods. There was no hotel of any sort whatsoever, no post office, no phone—no contact with the civilized world, but they didn't need any anyway. Myrddin's computer could supply information regarding any necessity of that sort—and in the village there were several old women who would eagerly give them lodgings in their houses. Their money was welcome. Since this was a tropical rainforest, there was plenty of food to be had.
elevation. As soon as they settled on a place to sleep, Elena said to Corazón Negro, "I'm going to have a look around."
hunting in. "Snakes, jaguars, crocodiles. Just be careful." "I'll come with you, if you like," Connor volunteered. "It's a far cry from the Highlands." Elena nodded, and together they walked about the bordering jungles and saw many exquisite butterflies in the dappled gloom. There were moments when Elena was so purely happy that she could have given way to tears; but not, of course, in front of the harsh Scot. She was secretly grateful to Corazón Negro for this journey. She concluded in her heart that no matter what happened, the experience would be well worth it for her.
tortillas, beans and delicious wild turkey meat—that they put on the ground at the center of the village. They sat to eat, shooing away the dogs. Several children delightedly perched on Aylón's lap, asking him about the tattoos covering his face. Beside him, Heru-sa-aset was bombarded by questions as well about his shaved head, while Myrddin, Zarach and Methos laughed at Corazón Negro's translations of the childish patter. Several of the young girls had eyes only for Duncan, and Connor teased him unmercifully about it.
fierce voice, holding possessively onto her Aztec's arm. Corazón Negro laughed. For the very first time in many days, the Ancient Gathering enjoyed a peaceful and happy dinner.
Quetzalcóhuatl's mask. After some discussion, they again chose to let the Aztec decide. The others would wait for him in the village homes. "There's no need for all of us to cut through the jungle," Corazón Negro said. "We are beyond the danger of bandits, and the cave isn't far. Besides," he continued, drinking from his carved wooden cup, "only a Dreamer can enter the cave." The Aztec settled back onto the ground, resting one elbow.
"She is not omnipotent," Corazón Negro stated. "Otherwise, she would destroy us right now." A little light came from the nearest bonfire, barely penetrating the jungle around. "She knows nothing of our whereabouts, or about the mask."
task. Besides, if something happens to us, you should continue our mission." "Anything happens to 'us'?" Zarach asked, his two-colored eyes sparkling with mischief. "I would like Elena to come with me. Don't worry, I can protect her from any magic." Corazón Negro replied. There were knowing smiles all around, and Connor said, taking a swallow of native rum, "The way I see it, you are starting to look like Duncan, with all the fun and all the good women. Isn't it so, laddie?" he asked his kinsman.
harder at the joke. "Don't worry, brother," Corazón Negro said. "Very soon all of us will share the fun against the hag. It's getting late. We should sleep. Tomorrow we have much work to do." ==================================== Island of Nod Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean March 28, 2013 Livia felt the buzz as the air vibrated around her. "You look tired, great-grandmother!" Gaius said to her as he entered the room.
God'?" She gazed at him with large, suspicious eyes, trying to read the other Immortal's intent. Did he plan to put Livia off with insults and aggravate her into making a mistake? Or was he just boorish, selfish, and so far withdrawn from polite society—like most Headless Children—that he spared no effort on civility?
certainly be appropriate, and welcome." "Fine. You look simply ravishing. Under other circumstances, I'd want to fuck the hell out of you." "How sweet. But as I recall you gave that up when I got 'too old' for you. Remember on my deathbed, when you told me I'd burn in hell?" Livia had never forgotten or forgiven him for that, not even two millennia later. Gaius said nothing, so she continued. "Now, do you just want to exchange commentaries or did this visit have a purpose?" Livia caught a glimpse of her reflection as she passed a mirror in the foyer of her suite of rooms. Gaius was right—she did look tired. Unconsciously, she drew in a breath. The events of the past hours had worn on her, and she didn't intend to let this negotiation go sour.
alliance with the Ancient Gathering, she planed to do her best to survive this war. If Lilitu or her foes perceived her as a threat, either of them could destroy an old woman, but she hadn't been plotting for centuries to die now, at anyone's hands. She looked at Gaius one more time. "What were you thinking of yesterday at the table? Vlad could easily have killed you. He might still," she mused out loud. "Hardly," he answered. "I know you're not going to like my ideas; I can guarantee that. But I have changed; I'm no longer the one to soften the blow, so I'm not going to give you a song-and- dance."
I know what this is about. It's about Lilitu and the Ancient Gathering lined up on either side of the world and both laying claim to it."
thumb of either Lilitu or the Ancient Gathering." Livia frowned. "I think you're being a bit naïve, no? You know that we're fighting a war, and if you are not with Lilitu, you are against her." This silenced Gaius for a moment. But he charged again, following Livia into her chambers, filled with ancient antiques and Roman furniture. The rooms looked like an ancient Roman villa—Livia had brought many of her things and made herself at home in what she considered her most comfortable surroundings. "But what does that mean? I'll tell you plainly. Many Immortals have no interest in pursuing an alliance with Lilitu 'or' with the Ancient Gathering. Most Immortals don't even know about either one," Gaius said.
was one who indeed formed relationships with Lilitu and the Ancient Gathering, albeit on an individual level," Livia commented.
menace.
"Ooh! But I do." Livia smiled wickedly. "Sooner or later, even the oldest and wisest among us has to fall." Gaius replied aloud, so Livia would hopefully have some idea of what was he meant. "Such a smug tone! You know that we could just focus on Lilitu and turn our attentions back to the Ancient Gathering later, don't you, great-grandmother?"
you, my 'little God' could pull that off. Lilitu would kill you instantly." "Is that so?" "Yes, like vermin. You and I know our resources would be better used against the Ancient Gathering." Livia took a seat on her favorite padded bench and crossed her hands on her lap. "You disappoint me, Gaius. I was hoping for a display of madness or excess, and instead you tell me that I've placed too much stock in your education." Gaius lowered his gaze and without even attempting to make eye contact with Livia, he left the room as he turned at the door. "I'm sure you can see that we have nothing in common anymore, and therefore nothing to gain with this empty alliance. Don't be so foolish as to think we can pluck the Ancient Gathering like a ripe plum," he finished from the entrance. "That's not the problem, my child. Within a few days, the Ancient Gathering will fall to us. Take my advice, 'little God'. Pay tribute, or crumble like the rest of Immortals around the world are doing, even as we speak." ==================================== Later, same day… If anything, Lilitu's announcement at the previous night's council meeting had increased the intensity of the infighting among the Headless Children. There had already been no fewer than three near fights during the evening's proceedings and the pace did not appear to be slacking. The news Lilitu had brought to the council was that all their plans had suddenly and irrevocably changed. Centuries of effort and sums of money that would have put many nations' gross national products to shame had been expended on positioning the Headless Children for a siege. Forces from Moscow, Madrid and Amsterdam had moved stealthily into position. Even the mortals known as the Hunters had tried to penetrate the Ancient Gathering's resources, in vain. They knew, however, that the Ancient Gathering was also ready. The Headless Children had needed a strategy that would bring the human world inexorably to its knees. Lilitu had been clear enough. All their efforts had been overturned in a single evening, in a single utterance. There would be no siege. Instead, there would be war, total annihilation. She'd started it herself with the very destructive killings on Holy Ground, and they were supposed to finish it.
riot that had followed her pronouncement the night before. Cartiphilus had been the only one able to explain Lilitu's enigmatic declaration.
one single, irresistible assault. We will sack our target, smashing every shred of resistance in an all- out offensive. That offensive, gentlemen, will take place two days from now."
unbridled chaos that reigned in the council chambers today. The news had had its chance to sink in, to work its transformations. Where last night's council had been a somber council of war, this day's assembly was a whooping war party waiting to be loosed to massacre its unsuspecting victims.
effort to ensure that everything was just so for this momentous meeting. Cartiphilus could see the already strained tempers beginning to grind together. Tonight he must remain vigilant—not only against the Ancient Gathering who would be fighting for their very lives, but also against his partners in the Headless Children who would be looking to improve their lot through any means at their disposal. For Vlad and Rasputin, this would mean a grab for glory on the field of battle. For Torquemada and Livia, the assault would mark the culmination of their intrigues and plays for political power. In the unfolding of the final act, these powerbrokers would be bringing to bear all of their resources. Then there were always the opportunists—like little Caligula—who knew full well that the assault would provide the perfect cover for the disappearance of a careless rival. Cartiphilus found himself hoping that enough of the Headless council would survive the next day after the assault to carry the project through to its completion. Fortunately, the leaders of the Hunters spearheading the attack were already dispatched and taking up their positions in the field in New York.
leading the attack. In the end, the council had agreed to send in the Hunters first. A meeting of the leaders of the Headless Children would bring together all of the notable Ancient Gathering leaders in the city under one roof. All the Headless Children had to do was bring down that roof. Livia was the first to speak. "You are no doubt aware that only a few short hours stand between us and the utter and devastating conquest of the world. Last night you heard Mother relate to us of the glory of her plans." She paused to let her words sink in. "Tomorrow, gentlemen, our forces will totally overrun the unsuspecting Ancient Gathering. We have the advantage over them in numbers, tactics, power and surprise. Our single-minded devotion to the cause allows no room for failure."
our prowess into the very faces of God, Immortals and men. And it will not end here, gentlemen. Already, our advance forces are on the move. Tomorrow we shall smash the human world forces. Mark my words." Silence reigned in the council chamber. Everyone present nodded in agreement. Finally, Vlad broke the stillness. "Precisely how much information about the defenses did your informant give you, Rasputin?" Vlad's voice betrayed an edge of irritability, but that was all.
would fray no further, at least not now. There was too much work to be done. Rasputin pushed a small sheath of papers across their round table with a noncommittal expression on his face. Thankfully, the map of New York on the tabletop did not so much as wrinkle. "Everything I was sent is here, Voivode. We know everything about their numbers and strength. The target will be ours." The monk held his hands, as if to disavow any malicious intent in his words.
face, and then he glanced over Cartiphilus, who nodded once. The Voivode reached for the papers. For several minutes, there were no sounds but the rustling of pages, and various noises of approval or disapproval that Vlad made, seemingly without knowing he did it. Cartiphilus could feel a change in those seconds—not a lessening of tension, but more the tension coming to a head. He sensed something else as well—something he suspected was a direct result of Lilitu's influence—a dangerous lack of restraint in the argument.
the city with a single attack." He looked smug as he put the papers down on the table. "We could," said Rasputin, his eyes slowly grew wide, his face darkened noticeably, "but the city is not the target." His face showed no trace of the disgust that colored his voice ever so slightly. "Indeed. And we must strike with overwhelming force. We must wash the mortal governments in blood, drown them in foes!" Vlad was on his feet, face flushed as he imagined a victory not yet won. "No losses! With strength and with numbers, we shall eradicate them!"
to a lesser-able man, a warlord should take personal command. You," she said directly to Vlad, "are the perfect leader."
suggestion. He retook his seat. "Personal command, in the field?" "That is not a good idea," said Gaius at once. He'd been expecting the suggestion from Torquemada maybe, but from Livia as well...? Livia turned to Gaius. "There is no glory without risk," she pointed out. "He is the most experienced warlord, and with Lilitu by his side, my 'little God', I'm sure the Voivode will have nothing to fear." Gaius scowled. Vlad, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, seemed caught between conflicting thoughts of Lilitu on one hand and crushing his enemies on the other. Rasputin spoke up suddenly. "If it will ease everyone's mind, I will accompany the Voivode, merely as an observer to his command, of course. With the two of us, who by our very presence define the word 'overkill', and a sizeable force, we should triumph." The monk's voice was mild, but amused.
said, "we shall bring numbers, and we shall make sure that you and I, Rasputin, are prominently visible. I don't expect the evening to be much of an exercise for either of us, but even so, as you say, it will do the Hunters good to have us seen on the field." Vlad inclined his head, bird-like. "And I trust Mother will keep us safe as we do so."
Remember: no crucifixions this time. No torments. I say that now so I am not forced to remind you of it later."
no unnecessary risk, and I trust Rasputin to do the same." "Very well." Torquemada sounded resigned, and not at all convinced. Vlad ignored him. "Rasputin," he continued, "would you like to involve any of your people in the operation? Perhaps you have some pets you wish to field-test? Or surely some of your adherents are growing restless and would enjoy an exercise in the field. I was thinking that perhaps three war parties, plus our presence and the Hunters, would be sufficient? Perhaps we could use this building, and the intersection there," he pointed at the target on the map, "as a good place to start. Of course, my personal forces will be waiting for us there to help." Cartiphilus held in a sigh. Was Vlad for some reason enjoying this? The former centurion looked at the man known as Dracula. He regarded him coolly for a long moment, and then turned away. They were Immortals. They lived forever. They fucked people. It was that simple. Cartiphilus was accustomed to making sure that he was not the one who got fucked. Rasputin thought for a moment. "We don't know where the real enemy—the Ancient Gathering— will be deployed, Prince. Why don't we wait until my contact tells us?" This time his voice was weary; maybe he regretted agreeing to be part of this alliance. "And we must be careful of the mortal's forces as well." "Our foe is the Ancient Gathering! All we need to do is set a few fires and endanger their precious mortals and they will come running to us." Vlad tapped his finger on the map, twice. "They disappeared after Mother sent the Berserkers against them in Scotland. The Ancient Gathering killed those warrior effortlessly," Gaius stated. "Of course they did," Livia spoke. "Those were babies with swords they were facing. We are different. We are the ones who could treat mortals like slaves, like animals." If Vlad thought it was arrogant of Livia, who was unable to fight, to talk about sword work, he didn't say. "Besides, the Ancient Gathering doesn't know the place we are going to attack," the Voivode spoke again. "I like the notion, now that I think about it. If we make them assault our position, they lose whatever benefit preparing defenses might have given them. It works well. Now, on to the timing of the affair..."
out of danger when things began to degenerate. The plan was passable but clumsy, failing to take into account any number of possibilities. The worries were endless: The subject of the new Dreamer—the Aztec Lilitu feared—was studiously avoided in discussion. Cartiphilus had tried to bring the point up several times, but the others had taken turns changing the subject; Livia might have decided to teach Vlad a lesson by supporting him as the leader of the attack and letting the Voivode's offensive run straight into an Ancient Gathering—shaped buzz saw; Rasputin's involvement in the affair, as well as Torquemada's convenient absence, was still troubling. And so it went.
inclined to listen to Cartiphilus. No, the best thing to do, he decided, would be to wait until things looked dangerous and then remove the targets from the scene if the Ancient Gathering showed up—'when' the Ancient Gathering showed up. The rest of the attack could succeed or fail on its own merits. The former centurion decided that their plan better work, or it was going to be the biggest fucking disaster since the Bay of Pigs. Cartiphilus closed his eyes. Basic decency was too much to ask for; it was too lofty a goal: Mutual self-interest, if he was lucky, was the closest he was going to get. That was the way of the world, mortal or Immortal. The best he could do was to stake his own thoughts and objectives, draw that line in the sand, and then fucking bust the head of anybody who stepped over it. "Don't you agree, Cartiphilus?" Gaius asked. Cartiphilus emerged from his reverie to find all the eyes looking at him quizzically, though perhaps for different reasons. "Of course I agree, in this case." Rasputin looked mildly surprised. Vlad seemed smug. Livia and Torquemada smiled. And Cartiphilus just wished the fighting would start so he wouldn't have to listen to this posturing crap any longer. ==================================== Mexico March 29, 2013 Elena and Corazón Negro left the next morning at sunrise and managed an hour in the Jeep before the narrow road gave out. Then, with light backpacks and canteens, bringing their weapons tied over their shoulders and hefting machetes to cut through the brush if needed, they followed the trail on foot. There was little conversation between them, all of their energy being given to the difficult and steady ascent. But again that sense of bliss descended upon Elena. The jungle seemed impenetrable, and because of the altitude, the clouds with their wondrous sweetness and dampness invaded everything. Elena had her eye out all the time for ruins of any sort, and indeed she saw them on both sides, but Corazón Negro dismissed them out of hand and insisted that they press doggedly on. The heat ate through Elena's clothing. Her left arm arched from the weight of her machete. Repellent kept most of the insects from biting, but not from swarming in such numbers that Elena had to keep her teeth closed to keep from swallowing them by the mouthful. Settling on the two travelers, obscuring their vision, and keeping up an incessant chorus of humming, the insects became an unendurable nuisance, but she would not have been in any other place just then for anything in the world.
to come to his side. They had come upon a clearing of sorts, and she saw decayed plaster hovels where there had once been houses, and one or two shelters, which still maintained their old wooden roofs.
stood for a long moment staring into the remnants of the place and then he spoke in a secretive voice. "Do you feel anything?"
was aware of something spiritually turbulent in the air. She resolved to apply all her senses to it. The sensation was quite strong. She cannot say she felt personalities or an attitude. She felt a commotion. For one moment she felt menace, and then nothing at all. "What do you make of it?" she asked him. His very stillness made her uneasy. "It's not the spirits of this village," he answered. "And I'll bet you anything that whatever we're feeling is precisely what caused the villagers to move on." Corazón Negro started off again, and Elena, almost as obsessed as him, followed.
jungle soon became denser. They had to hack their way all the more fiercely, and at times Elena felt a dreadful pain in her chest.
before them, its steep flight of steps covered by scrub growth and dense vine. Looking closely, they could make out much of its strange carvings.
listened and there came again that awareness that they were not alone. Something moved in the atmosphere, something pushed against them, something sought with great determination to move against gravity and affect her body where she stood. "What's this?" Elena asked, her voice trembling. "The Dream," Corazón Negro replied and suddenly veered to the left, and began hacking his way around the side of the temple and onward in the same direction that they'd taken before. The Dream, Elena thought, shuddering in spite of the heat. So far the Dream had just been a concept, unreachable to her. But maybe now, in this lonely, ancient, forgotten place... There was no trail now. There was nothing but the jungle, growing noisily on all sides of them, pressing down on them. But the incessant sounds of jungle life were dimmer now, replaced by the sound and feel of another presence. Shaking her head, Elena soon realized that another temple loomed to their left, and that it was much higher than the building to their right. They were in a small alleyway before the two immense monuments, and they had to make their way through cumbersome rubble. "We are the first to come here in thousands of years," Corazón Negro said as if reading her thoughts. "No thieves, no scholars. No one. The Dream has been protecting this holy place for centuries."
the birth of Christ or a thousand years earlier. Only Quetzalcóhuatl knew. He built them." As they talked, the spiritual tumult continued. It was wondrously intriguing. It was as if the spirits whipped the air, reminding Elena of the insects again, which were much less present. But the spirits were not something she could touch or swat or wipe off her arms—and unlike the bugs, they held a strong sense of menace. "¡Dios mio!—My God! They're trying to stop us!" Elena realized, whispering. The jungle gave forth its chorus of cries, as if answering her. Something moved in the brush. But Corazón Negro, after stopping for only few moments, pressed on. "The spirits will 'not' stop us," he said in a dull flat voice. "I have to find the cave." On he went, the jungle closing all too readily behind him.
don't want us near these temples!" "It's not the temples," Corazón Negro insisted, chopping at the vines and pushing through the undergrowth. "It's the cave. They know we are going to the cave." A few kilometers ago Elena had suggested taking the lead, giving him a break from the hard work of clearing their path, but he'd refused, so she'd given up trying to aid him and now walked just behind him, cutting away more of the path to make it easier on their return. She felt claustrophobic with the trees on all sides of her and with the Aztec's bulk right in front of her. They had gone some meters when it seemed the jungle grew impossibly thick and that the light was suddenly altered. By peering through the trees, Elena realized they had walked inside the blackened doorway of an immense edifice, which spread its sloping walls to their right and their left. It was a temple, and she could see the impressive carvings on either side of the entrance, and also above as the wall rose to a great apron of stone with intricate carvings visible in the scarce high rays of the desperate sun, and the jungle died out almost abruptly without the sun to nourish the plant growth.
turbulence grew extremely intense. She felt something similar to the light tap of fingers against her eyelid and her cheeks. It was altogether different from the constant barrage of the insect world. She felt something touch the back of her hands, and it seemed that she almost lost her grip on the machete. "For incorporeal spirits, they're awfully strong," she whispered into the darkness, then put her machete in her belt. Unencumbered by jungle growth, she came to stand by Corazón Negro's side as he seemed to use all his senses, his eyes peering into the darkness of the passage ahead, his head tilted as he listened. He even seemed to be 'tasting' the air. Finally, he whispered, "They're much stronger than they were before. They don't want us to go inside." "And why would we do that?" Elena asked quickly. "We're searching for a cave." "They know that's what we're doing," he commented. "The cave is on the other side of the temple. The simplest way is straight through." "This is the way you dreamt of? You're Quetzalcóhuatl's son. Why are the spirits trying to stop you? Or perhaps it's my presence that's disturbing them?" she wondered out loud. "No," Corazón Negro answered. "This is the way I dreamt it should be. No one before has made it as far as we have. The spirits don't care about my lineage, or about you. They are here to protect. We continue onwards, through there."
Elena felt even more claustrophobic. Trees around you were one thing, but you could cut your way out. Unyielding stone, however...
strange fire burning in his leopard eyes. "I'm the new Dreamer. I will protect you. Nothing's changed, and nothing will."
into the opening, concentrating only on their path ahead. Elena, concerned also with what was around them, pulled her own flashlight out of her backpack and moved the beam in circles. She could see the stone floor in spite of the few pallid plants which had struggled to cover it. She could make out lavish paintings on the walls. The flashlight hit great rich dark-skinned figures in golden clothes, some painted and some carved against a backdrop of vivid blue. Above, as the walls rose to a vaulted ceiling, she saw another procession against the deep shade of red. The entire chamber seemed some fifty feet in length and her feeble light struck a bit of greenery at the other end. "What do they mean?" Elena asked as she marveled at the paintings. Corazón Negro stopped to observe the walls. "Quetzalcóhuatl's prophecies," he said looking at Elena. "Look at this one. It describes the coming of Lilitu," his hand touched the wall. "His visions." She came forward to look, but at that instant, the spirits swarmed around Elena, silent yet nevertheless intensely active, trying once more to strike her eyelid and her cheeks. Corazón Negro knew they were there, pressing on her. "Get away from her!" he commanded. "You have no power over her!" There was an immense response. The jungle around them appeared to tremble, as if an errant breeze had worked its way down to them, and a shower of leaves came into the hall and fell at their feet. Once again Elena heard the unearthly roar of the howler monkeys high in the trees. It seemed to give voice to the spirits. "Come on, my love," Corazón Negro said; but as he meant to go forward, something invisible appeared to stop him, because he stepped back off-balance and raised his left hand as if to shield himself. Another volley of leaves descended upon them.
and fuller so that they found themselves surrounded by some of the most vivid murals, which they've ever seen. Everywhere around them rose splendid processional figures, tall and thin, complete with ornate kilts, earrings and headdresses. They could not mark the style of the statues. It was like nothing they'd ever seen before.
"They are representations of the first Immortals, my love. They are the original Ancient Gathering," he said with the deepest respect. "Look," he pointed at the next statue. "This is Zarach, and over here, there is Aylón!" He breathed hard. "I don't recognize the others." His gaze narrowed looking at the figure at the far extreme. "But I do recognize this one: she is Lilitu."
was the representation of two men fighting. The most startling aspect of the scene was the anatomy of the two figures. The limbs of both fighters were soft and fleshy, and the torsos possessed little definition. But the heads were overly large—much too ponderous for the frames of the figures' bodies. As the sculpture was carved from a textureless black stone, this purposeful disproportionment was enhanced. "My God," Elena spoke softly. "Are they…?" "Yes," Corazón Negro said moving closer to them. "They are Zarach, formerly known as Tubal- Khain, and Abel. The first Immortals who fought to the death. It is the representation of the first Quickening ever," he finished, his eyes wide opened. Abel's face was lit with a cheery bliss without even a hint of resignation. Clearly, he anticipated the journey to the other world. The intriguing premise made Zarach's face even more decipherable, for his expression was one of resolution and determination but with an upper lip that was slightly wrinkled to denote some amount of distaste. But then, a little drawing next to Lilitu's caught Corazón Negro's attention.
representation of a flower, with a visible heart in its center. "It's us," he said. "The two made one, forever, until the end of time."
depicted here millennia before. After a while, they went on, their every footfall echoing off the walls as they proceeded, but the air had grown intolerably hot. Dust rose and filled their nostrils. It made them cough. Elena felt the touch of fingers all over her. Indeed there came the grip of hands on her upper arm, and a muffled blow against her face. It was stronger than any touch she'd felt so far, and she worried that the spirits would get stronger as they proceeded. She also wondered if their weapons would have any effect against them –how could they fight spirits? She tried to touch them, to brush them away, but felt nothing in her hands, and yet they continued to touch her, to press against her. She reached out for Corazón Negro's shoulder, both to hurry him and to stay with him. They moved forward much more slowly than she wished, and she knew the Aztec was working his way through just like he had in the jungle. She could hear him straining with every step, panting with effort, and she stayed close to him, her front almost brushing his back, to try to keep any spirits from getting between them. When they were in the very middle of the passage Corazón Negro came to a standstill and flinched as if receiving a shock. He rocked against her, and she held him up with her arms against his back. "Get away from me, you won't stop me!" he whispered. And then in a long stream of Náhuatl he called on Quetzalcóhuatl to make the way.
seemed far more likely that the Old Snake would bring the temple down on their heads. At last they came out in the jungle once more, and Elena coughed to clear her throat. She looked back at the edifice. Less was visible on this side than on the front. She felt the spirits all around them. She felt threats without language. She felt herself pushed and shoved by weak creatures desperate to stop her advance and they were getting stronger—she was sure of it now. But Corazón Negro moved on, pulling his machete out once more. He seemed to be sure of their destination, but they had to hack their own path out of the jungle. They went steeply upwards, and Elena beheld the sparkle of the waterfall before she heard its music. There came a relatively clear but narrow place where the water ran deep, and Corazón Negro crossed over to the right bank as Elena followed, her machete working as hard as his. The climb up the waterfall was not difficult at all. But the activity of the spirits became increasingly stronger. Again and again Corazón Negro cursed under his breath. Elena called on God to show the way.
monstrous open-mouthed snake face carved deep into the volcanic rock that surrounded an obvious cave. Though the spirits kept up their assault, the gentle mist from the waterfall was cooling her hands and face. She made her way up to stand beside Corazón Negro, when suddenly the spirits seemed to push at her from the rock behind, toward the water far below. Elena felt her left foot go out from under her. Though she never cried out, but merely reached out for purchase leverage, Corazón Negro turned and grabbed hold of her by the loose shoulder of her shirt. That was all she needed to recover her footing and climb the remaining few feet to be at the flattened entrance of the cave.
efforts, hundreds of little invisible hands trying to push her away from the cave entrance. But she held firm and so did he, though twice he swiped at something near to his face.
the representations of Quetzalcóhuatl. It was helmeted and tilted upwards so that the face with its open eyes and unique reptilian mouth received the rain that inevitably fell here, and at its uneven base, amid piles of blackened stones, stood an amazing array of feathers, wilted flowers and some pottery. Elena almost could smell the incense where she stood. The blackened rocks testified to many years of candles, but even her untrained eye could see that the last of these offerings were over a thousand years old.
the spirits as before. He made another involuntary gesture, as though to drive something unseen away. Elena felt no change in the assault of the spirits. She felt them pushing on her with renewed energy in a way that was beginning to unnerve her, certain though as she was that they would never gain much physical strength. Could they be wrong, being here? Should they intrude on what had not been touched for so many thousands of years? She opened her mouth to voice her new doubts to her companion, but he interrupted.
offerings. "Let's go into the cave." They used their flashlights, and at once the silence from the waterfall descended upon them, along with the smell of dry earth and ash. Immediately Elena saw more paintings and carvings. They were well inside, and the two of them walked and swiftly towards them, ignoring the spirits, which had now produced an almost painful whistling sound near her ears. To her utter shock, she saw these splendidly colored wall coverings were in fact mosaics made with millions of tiny chips of semiprecious stones. The figures were far simpler than the drawings before, which indicated they were probably more ancient.
because she had to say something. "Look, there's writing. I'm sure those are glyphs." Corazón Negro didn't answer. He stared at the walls as Elena did. He seemed entranced. Elena could not quite make out a procession, or indeed attribute any activity to the tall slender figures, except to say that they appeared to be in profile, to wear long garments, and to be carrying important objects in their hands. She did not see bloody victims struggling. She did not see clear figures or priests. But as she struggled to make out the intermittent and glittering splendor, her foot struck something hollow. She looked down at a wealth of richly colored pottery gleaming before they as far as she could see. "This isn't a cave at all, is it?" she asked. "No," Corazón Negro answered. "It is a tunnel. It's been carved out entirely by man. Quetzalcóhuatl." The stillness, especially after the noises of the jungle, the waterfall, the spirits, was shocking. All they could hear was their own hushed voices and the sound of their breathing. Stepping as carefully as he could, Corazón Negro went on, and Elena behind him, though she had to reach down several times to move some of the small vessels out of her way. "This is a burial place, and all these are offerings for the dead," Corazón Negro explained. At that Elena felt a sharp blow to the back of her head. She spun around and shone her flashlight on nothing. The light from the cave entrance hurt her only eye. Something pushed her left side and then her right shoulder. It was the spirits coming at them again. So much for their not being physical, she thought, trying to strike out against them with her arms and encountering nothing as before. She saw that Corazón Negro was jerking and moving to the side, as if something were striking him also. Elena uttered a prayer again, and heard her love issuing his own refusals to back down.
above the flashlight, which he politely directed to the ground. "Only Quetzalcóhuatl knew this place. We must go on."
side, but quickly he steadied himself. Elena heard the crunch of pottery beneath her feet. "Stop this!" Corazón Negro yelled at the spirits. "We have a right to be here!" At this Elena received a heavy silent blow against her ribs, and she felt the spot, wondering if there was a wound, but there was no blood. She felt a sharp increase in her exhilaration suddenly, and she gasped with excitement and fear. These invisible creatures frightened her because she had no weapons against them; if she couldn't touch them, she couldn't hurt them or stop them, and her lover's words didn't seem to be having much effect, either.
dome. Much had fallen away from age and dampness, but it was a glorious room nevertheless. Round both walls the figures proceeded, until there stood one individual whose facial features had long ago been broken away. Elena surmised that must have been Quetzalcóhuatl's face. On the floor of the room, in its very center, surrounded by clear circles of pottery offerings and fine jade statues, lay a beautiful arrangement of ornaments in a nest of dust. "Look, it's Quetzalcóhuatl's mask," Corazón Negro said, his light falling upon the most glorious polished green snakelike jade image, which lay as it had been placed perhaps thousands of years before. Its exquisite beauty and workmanship untouched by the ravages of time, it looked brand new.
Neither of them dared take a step. The precious articles surrounding the burial were too beautifully arranged. They could see the ear ornaments now, glinting, as the soft moldering earth swallowed them, and across the would-be chest of the mask they saw a long richly carved scepter.
narrowed. Then willfully, as if driven, he plunged forward, dropped to his knees, and picked up the brilliant green mask. He darted back with it, away from the altar.
were already on their way to the outside air. Suddenly, Elena was pushed backwards, separating her from the Aztec. "She is coming with me!" Corazón Negro yelled. "Move out of our way!" As they tried to continue, something unseen blocked their path. Elena reached out. This time she could touch it. It was like a soft silent wall of energy. Corazón Negro suddenly gave his flashlight to Elena and in both hands he held the mask. At any other time of her life, Elena would have been admiring it, for it had an immense amount of expression and detail. Though there were holes for eyes and a thin gash for the mouth, all features were deeply contoured and the gloss of the thing was beautiful in itself. But right now they had other troubles. The spirits were not going to let them go, especially not with the sacred mask. They pushed with all their combined strength against the force that sought to block them, from time to time using their flashlights like clubs. The sound around them became a high shrill, and Elena thought she could make out angry voices—no, make that enraged voices. Arms pulled at her from behind while the barrier blocked them from the front. Elena could see the mouth of the cave and freedom, but now she wondered if they would ever get out of there at all, if they were going to be doomed to die, over and over, in this lonely cave. She felt panic start to rise in her chest and she stopped struggling, trying to stand as still as possible, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths to calm herself as she had been trained to do. Looking sideways, she realized Corazón Negro had stopped pushing and was now holding the mask to his face, and as he turned to look at Elena, it appeared brilliant and faintly ghastly in the light. It seemed suspended in the darkness. The air in the cave fell silent and still. The spirits were no longer touching her. All Elena could hear was Corazón Negro's breathing and then her own. He began to whisper something in Náhuatl tongue. "My love?" she asked gently. In the abrupt and welcome stillness, the air of the cave felt moist and sweetly cool. "My love?" she pressed again, but she could not get an answer from him. Corazón Negro stood with the Mask of the Snake over his face, peering ahead of them, and then, with a surprising gesture, he ordered, "I am Corazón Negro, the Son of the Wolf, the new Dreamer. Move out of my way!"
swimming sensation overcame Elena, who took several steps backwards, shaking her head to try to clear it. The mask remained in Corazón Negro's face as the place was subtly changed.
repetitive manner, and before Elena in the dimness stood a figure, wavering as if he were not entirely solid, but rather made of silk, and left to the mercy of the scant draught from the entrance of the cave. She could see his expression clearly, though not define entirely or say what feature conspired in his young male face to evince what emotion or how. But she could 'feel' that he was begging for salvation.
an army against them! Its arms were golden brown and covered with gorgeous stone bracelets. Its face was oval and his eyes dark and quick—and very much alive.
the ground; so great and so present was that emotion. Yet no sooner had she hit the ground—at least she thought she did— Corazón Negro jerked her upright. Elena felt a strange energy emanating from his body; a force that invaded her being. At the next moment she saw nothing but the distant light flickering in the entrance.
pulling her with all his strength. "Come on, my love. Nothing can stop us now." Elena felt an awe-inspiring desire to get out of the cave with him, and to share the rest of her long life with his, to feel again in her soul that indescribable magic which had enabled her to see the spirits of the place with her own eye. Boldly, wretchedly, without any further encumbrance, they left the cave, walked by the waterfall, and, following the path they had cleared themselves earlier —a path she'd been afraid would have closed behind them, leaving them to struggle against the jungle again, they finally reached the bottom of the cliff. They were back in the depth of the jungle. They ignored the unseen hands that assailed them, the volley of leaves and the urgent cries of the howler monkeys that had apparently joined in the assault. The insects came to attack again, their force and strength seemingly redoubled, and Elena heard the roaring of big cats in the tall grasses all around them. She tensed, remembering the tiger in the Malaysian jungle and the damage it had done, but in spite of the sounds, no animals appeared. A slender banana tree crashed down into their path, and they moved over it. Elena gasped, realizing the path they had opened up 'was' closing in front of them, and they found themselves hacking at vegetation that seemed to be bowing to strike them in the face. They made remarkable time moving through the hallway of the temple. They were almost running when they found the remnants of the trail. The spirits sent more of the banana trees flapping toward them. Voices, animal, human and inhuman, assailed them from all sides; hands and branches pulled at them but couldn't stop them. There was a rain of coconuts, which did not strike them. From time to time small pebbles came at them in small gusts of wind.
a soundless howling. Silently, Corazón Negro clutched Quetzalcóhuatl's mask to his chest with one hand and hacked at the trees with another, never slowing his steady pace.
heat burned, until they reached the Jeep and collapsed inside of it. ==================================== The others welcomed them back at the village, all of them happy by their return. Elena and Corazón Negro had emptied their canteens when they'd reached the Jeep, pouring some water over their heads and drinking the rest, and now they drank water again. Although they'd driven for an hour, Elena's heart was still pounding. The women of the village brought them fruit and the cooked flesh of some animal, all of which she devoured. Duncan was practically hand-feeding her, gently moving her matted hair back behind her ears, and she could see how curious he was, but he remained silent and attentive while she struggled to get herself under control. Finally, when she started to say something, to attempt to put things in some sort of perspective, Zarach gestured for her to be quiet. The Immortal's face was flushed. He sat as if his heart too, were hurting him, though Elena knew better. His cheeks were blazing as he looked at them; his face was wet with sweat. He addressed the Aztec, and Elena thought, of course, the Dreamer. He's the one who should speak.
"I saw the Dream. It showed me things that were… things that are, and things that have not yet come to pass," the Aztec said solemnly. "I saw weeping men, priests, kings, thousands of souls beautifully dressed, with fine bracelets, with long robes. They pleaded with me, as they were grieving and miserable. They let me know how dreadful Lilitu is. The Dream let me know the death of the world was at hand."
her?"
removed the mask so carefully, as though it were made of glass. In the daylight Elena perceived how carefully and deeply the features were carved. The lips were thick and long and spread back as if in a scream. The eyes ridges gave no surprise to the expression, only a sense of calm.
at the top of the forehead, and then pointing out an opening over each ear. "This is to strap the mask to the face with leather, most likely."
intended for just anyone, that some magic could be harmful." Corazón Negro looked at the mask and lifted it. He wanted clearly to put it over his face again but something stopped him. His pupils danced wildly. "Quetzalcóhuatl led us here, guided us to an ancient artifact through which I can see the Dream in order to stop Lilitu," he stayed. Then he looked at them, as he grew a little calm. "We must go now. We need to find her, and destroy her." "Let's do it then," Duncan said, rising from his place at Elena's side. "The sooner, the better." ==================================== Mexico City March 29, 2013 Hours later, they arrived in Mexico City once more, where they rented two limousines. "We need to go to my house in Coyoacan," Corazón Negro announced to Elena, Zarach, Aylón and Connor, the ones who traveled with him. "In order to face Lilitu inside the Dream, I must perform an ancient ritual, and I will need some items from my home." Elena pressed against him. "The same house where I found you after the earthquake, when Quetzalcóhuatl died?" "Yes, my love," the Aztec answered. He knew very well Elena wasn't comfortable returning to that place, even after so many years, and he didn't blame her. Not after what she had witnessed there. "It won't take long—you can wait outside for me." Elena smiled. "Have I ever waited outside for anyone?" He returned her smile, squeezing her hand, and directed their driver to his deserted house. The radio in the limousine crackled, and the other driver asked where they were going. "Tell them to follow," Corazón Negro said at the chauffer, and they sat back as he looked through the windows at his beloved city. After twenty minutes, they arrived. A blue stonewall surrounded the compound where he'd spent so many happy years. The paint was flaking in places, and graffiti artists had been there, but the lock on the iron gate was new. That meant probably that Elena's former husband Gordon was still alive and taking care of the place. Good. Elena moved forward and pulled a set of lock picks from a pocket in her backpack. "Amanda taught me this," she whispered, and with the men blocking her actions from any passers-by, she worked on the lock while the others got out of their limo.
the gate back, urging the Aztec inside. Smiling at her, Corazón Negro was the first to enter. Once inside the wall, they found themselves in a large courtyard surrounded by the house on three sides and the rest of the wall on the fourth. Their feet crushed the tiny red rocks that covered a great part of the yard, producing a crunching noise with their every step. The garden near the back had obviously been loved in another time, but the flowerbeds today looked withered and sad. In the middle of the courtyard was a small stoned fountain with an Aztec God design on it, like an obscene indication of what had once happened inside. Although the house dated from the Spanish era, the little hall that led to the front door was colored with strange symbols of a forgotten time. Corazón Negro remembered the pictograms: they were Aztec, of course—scenes from codices now buried; pictures of names written in a secret language of hope. The Aztec walked slowly into the open doorway, past the massive wooden front door of the house itself, hoping not to be surprised by any squatters, human or animal, who might have taken up residence in the house. But he paused to examine the door, astonished by the stark beauty and savagery of the carvings on it after so many years. It was a beautifully detailed howling wolf, showing his fangs and looking directly at the person entering. It was Corazón Negro's totem, so it seemed to salute rather than intimidate him.
somehow disturb the memories within. He tried to forget that his former bedroom existed at all. However, certain unpleasantries could not be delayed, and currently he had no time for personal infirmities, physical or moral. The living room carpet seemed unusually old and thick. Corazón Negro feared he might sink into it and be lost forever; or perhaps it was merely his legs that threatened to give way with each step. Not since the night of his first death under the snowstorm more than a thousand years ago could he remember ever having felt so weak. The others followed him. The inside of the house was in relatively good order, the furniture covered with dust cloths, the glass clean and the surfaces fairly dust-free. As the Aztec limped across the living room, he channeled his remaining energy away from the invective, self-recrimination and analysis of his mistakes. He'd made many over the centuries, the first and one of the worst of which was considering that Quetzalcóhuatl's prophecies were merely myths. The immensity of the task before him began, not for the first time, to overwhelm Corazón Negro. He was the new Dreamer, and the Ancient Gathering was following him. The Aztec felt his resolve crumbling like an earthen work eroded away over the years by the irresistible force of the ocean. He might plug a hole or two, or three, but did he posses enough fingers to make any real difference? Could he, or anyone, hold back the sea for long? He must, he thought. There was no alternative. He could not let the others see his weakness. As he walked he felt Elena's warm hand on his shoulder blades, and he deliberately eased his tense shoulders down. As for the pain of his memories and his mistakes—Corazón Negro welcomed it. It helped him focus his thoughts, enabled him to shunt aside the morbid defeatism that would be his doom, and concentrate again on not repeating past errors.
into his bedroom. "To the basement," he answered. "All that I need is there." He turned to find Duncan staring at the portrait of Elena on the near wall. The Aztec had painted that picture many years before, from memory. "Not exactly a Picasso, is it, Duncan?" Connor said, slapping his cousin on the back amiably. The MacLeods knew that Elena at one time had been one of the lovers of the famous artist, and that Picasso had painted her portrait too.
"Statues. Incense. Relics. Holy items I'm going to need in order to step into the Dream, in addition, of course, to the mask we retrieved," he said.
peaceful, out of the way place. And by the way, do you have any beer?" "I haven't been here in decades, so, no beer," Corazón Negro said, smiling. "And I can't perform the ritual here. It may seem peaceful to you, but for me there are too many bad memories." "Let's get it done, then," Aylón suggested. "We have no time to waste." Corazón Negro gestured at the MacLeods and Elena to come with him, and said to the others, "We'll be right back. I don't expect any trouble, but one never knows." "We'll wait for you here," Methos said. "Of course, it would be better with a cold Negra Modelo." ==================================== "What about Lilitu's associates?" Heru-sa-aset asked Myrddin.
The Druid placed his computer on his lap and opened it. Myrddin fed the encapsulated data into his computer about Lilitu's previous appearances through the centuries. Then he programmed the machine to search and evaluate his files for those Headless Children powerful enough to stand beside her.
easy." He took time to think, then ran his hands through his long gray hair. "A first comprehensive scan turned up twenty-five possible Immortals strong and ancient enough to join Lilitu. I've eliminated those I felt would disagree with her evil... proclivities. The second run eliminated those Immortals engaged in major feuds with each other—I doubt that they'll stop trying to kill each other long enough to join anyone. That left us with six possible names, and none of them are good news. They are legendary figures of the past, just as we are. And as you well know, among us, legends often are based on facts." "Well?" Methos asked, sprawling comfortably on the couch he shared with Zarach. "Give us the bad news."
"Dracula?" Methos murmured. "I didn't know he was still alive. Of course he is," he said, annoyed. "Gaius Caesar Germanicus, and his great-grandmother, Livia Drusilla." "Caligula. Him I knew too," Methos said, happier now. "Torquemada, Rasputin," Myrddin announced with admiration. "Great!" Methos said loudly. "Pretty much what we expected. Lilitu is playing her last card in this, isn't she? Those bastards are capable of anything. On the bright side, at least we know she's not holding back anymore."
they will prove to be formidable opponents." "Now we must figure out their plan." Myrddin suggested, his eyes narrowing. "Total annihilation, of course!" Methos responded, rising from his comfortable position and walking nervously around the room. "A siege, perhaps? Just like the old days?" Heru-sa-aset suggested as he watched Methos pace. "I think this is not going to be common siege, not as we've seen before," Myrddin explained. "They will know where to hit, and they will hit hard. They must've been gathering intelligence for years." "It sounds far too … organized for the Headless Children," Heru-sa-aset said, looking at his hands. "We're agreed. They have a leader, though," Methos suggested, moving near the Egyptian Prince. "But something else is going on," he continued. "How could they…? Where are they getting their coordination, the logistics, the strategy?" He shook his head sternly. "Mother is many things, but not a strategist, and certainly not a micro-manager. She would simply give the orders and expect her minions to find a way to carry them out—or else."
pawns to die for her. The only question is 'where'". "Where," Methos repeated. Something wasn't right. Suddenly, his eyes opened wide as the single word resounded inside his head. "Genocide! Not that it hasn't happened before, without Immortal help, but—" He looked at Myrddin. "Find in your data any strange, large-scale movements in the past few days." Myrddin's fingers flew over the keyboard. "What am I looking for?" "Large numbers of men—perhaps troops. And definitely, unusually large money movements," Methos supplied anxiously. Heru-sa-aset looked at him. "I see your point. What about the killings on Holy Ground? What did the news report today?" As he tapped the keys, Myrddin answered. "Tonight representatives of one-hundred-eighty nations will meet in the United Nations to discuss those events…" "Representatives and ambassadors?" Zarach asked as he moved to look over Myrddin's shoulder. "Yes," the Druid's fingers stopped as his gaze rose from the screen on his lap. "Mother of God, that's the answer," he whispered as the realization hit him. "They're going to attack there. One simple strike to erase the mayor leaders of the world…" "And without proper leaders," Methos said, "the mortals will be stunned, in chaos. There will be jockeying for power. Wars will be declared…"
Heru-sa-aset finished. "The 'new' Goddess," Zarach said softly, almost to himself. "Her ultimate ambition, from the beginning of time." "Regardless of who heads their vanguard," Myrddin announced, "there will be a Headless Children's army marching to New York, together or separately! We must tell the others!" At that moment, Connor entered the room, a large cardboard box in his hands. Duncan was right behind him with a wooden box, and Elena and the Aztec brought up the rear. They were all carrying something. "We're baaack," Connor announced. “Tell us about what?"
my town. It's already suffered enough from the terrorist attacks at the turn of the century. No way I'm going to stand by and let this happen. Let's roll."
York City. Corazón Negro soon enough will be in the Dream, fighting Lilitu there, and we cannot risk bringing him into a war zone. During that time, he will be completely vulnerable, helpless. And he can't be interrupted in his Dream." "And Lilitu will know it," Methos interjected. "She'll surely send someone against him. That will force us to split our forces, but we have no choice." "It will force her to split her forces, too," Myrddin said softly. "So?" Methos replied bitterly. "We have to hide him, his physical body at least, from her. I'll stay with him, of course," Elena stated. "If Lilitu's forces locate him, she won't find him alone and unprotected." Silence reigned in the room. The MacLeods looked at each other and nodded softly. "Duncan and I have fought together before, back to back. We do well that way. We'll stay with our Aztec friend here," Connor suggested. "Lilitu's 'forces' won't get to him while we live."
"Remember Corazón Negro? You showed me the place centuries ago," he said and then looked at the others. "It's remote and a well-kept secret, but Connor and I are familiar with every inch of those woods. Elena, too. The whole island is Holy Ground, and we'll see them coming." He put his hand on Corazón Negro's shoulder. "But if you have another suggestion, 'whither thou goest,' mi amigo."
Connor sighed unhappily. "I don't think so," he said, shaking his head. "Lilitu has been killing Immortals on Holy Ground and destroying whole cities in the process. I don't know about you, but I don't want to be on an island as it sinks under the water!"
the rest of us." There was a moment of silence while everyone absorbed that announcement; then Methos continued, "And no other Immortal will dare attack on Holy Ground." "Can we be sure of that?" Connor asked, still skeptical. Kane had attacked him on Holy Ground, and Elena had told him how she and Zarach had been rushed by several of Lilitu's Immortals while they were still inside the chapel on her ranch.
with Connor, but this time he has a point. We can't take the chance on bringing ruin and devastation to an entire area. Let's go to the cabin at my estancia, in the middle of the pampa. Even if Lilitu's minions can find us, the cabin itself is isolated and impossible to sneak up to, yet has a secret passage into a nearby grove of trees that I planted myself in case we need to get out fast."
planting a soft kiss on Elena's hand.
him and squeezing his hand in turn. "I like the idea of a secret passage," Connor said, a little happier. "We can use it to surprise our enemies. And even if Lilitu doesn't come herself, I'm sure she'll send an Immortal or two—along with armed mortals." As soon as the four of them were alone, he'd get more details from Elena on this cabin of hers so they could plan their defense. But the Aztec's next words shattered Connor's budding plans. "However, I can't be inside the cabin. The ritual necessary for the Dream requires a bonfire and much incense. It must be done outside." "Outside?" Connor echoed unhappily. "How the hell are we supposed to protect you, anybody, outside? We'll be sitting ducks!" "There's a grove of trees nearby," Duncan mused, "but they aren't really thick enough to provide much protection. Maybe we can sit in the trees, and look down…" "They'll pick us off, Duncan. They'll use us for target practice," Connor said. "The barn," Elena said. "Yes," Corazón Negro agreed. "It's big enough to contain the ritual. And we'd have the protection of the walls." "The barn might work," Duncan said, obviously thinking. "Yeah. It might," Connor agreed. But he'd reserve judgment until they saw the place. In any case, there wasn't much choice, was there? "I don't want to let anyone in my estancia know we'll be there," Elena added, thinking out loud. "The less they know the better, in case Lilitu's 'friends' do come looking. We can buy supplies in Tigre, where no one knows me, then skirt south and around to the cabin. By the time any gaucho discovers us, this whole thing will be over—I can't imagine more than a few days, right?" "It's the Endgame," Zarach stated grandly. Connor thought the ancient Immortal looked sad. What kind of thoughts were going on in that head? Connor wondered. "Are you sure Argentina is a wise choice?" Methos asked. "Lilitu knows you'll be with Corazón Negro; it's the first place she'll look for you." "Once I enter the Dream she will be able to find me anyway," Corazón Negro said. "Hopefully, I will be able to find her as well, but..." He shrugged. "I suggest you get going, then," Aylón said. "You four to Argentina; the rest of us to New York." "And may God be with us all," Elena said somberly. "Insha'allah—Allah's good will be done," Aylón said grinning. "Now, if we're all agreed," he looked around at all the Immortals crowded into the living room and got no argument, "shall we go keep the world from being destroyed?" ==================================== Yüklə 2,56 Mb. Dostları ilə paylaş:
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