pause. "Don't make me come up there," Heru-sa-aset added.
"I told you," Methos said. "You should pilot your fancy toy."
Heru-sa-aset frowned in frustration. Quickly he decided to get rid of this overcautious pilot at the
first opportunity. "What are you waiting for?" he asked again pressing the button.
But to add insult to potential injury, the pilot wasn't listening to Heru-sa-aset. The Egyptian Prince
heard the distracted pilot over the intercom. "What in the world? Who are those folks on the—?
Hey!"
"Get this plane moving!" Heru-sa-aset had to force himself not to punch the intercom button too
hard and break it. There were no windows. He couldn't see what was going on out there.
"Mary, mother of God!" the pilot was shrieking.
"Go! Go!" Heru-sa-aset yelled. If the Hunters blocked the runway, he and the others would have to
fight again. "Go!"
The YF-25 Serpentarius-VI lurched forward suddenly. Heru-sa-aset stumbled, slapped at the wall
for support. Bullets hit the fuselage. Were the Hunters in cars? Were they blocking the runway? He
couldn't hear over the plane's engines. He couldn't see anything.
"Vlad, you fucking bastard!" Methos yelled.
The pilot was gasping and sobbing over the intercom. "Jesus-Jesus-Jesus..."
"Holy shit! I told you we should have finished that bastard!" Methos said, lying flat on the floor of
the jet—even when the aircraft was protected for anything up to a 50 mm—as more rounds hit
them.
"Get us up!" Heru-sa-aset roared at the intercom as he regained his balance. "Go!"
For a few sickening seconds, the gunshots seemed to get louder. Heru-sa-aset kept expecting the
YF-25 Serpentarius-VI to screech to a halt, or to hear the pilot get his head blown off. That would
ground them just as effectively. The Egyptian Prince knew that the plane wouldn't easily explode.
Probably. But for a second, he almost welcomed the thought of being boarded. At least then he
could do something! He wouldn't be completely dependent on the pilot getting them off the
ground, on the plane holding together. He was jittering like crazy in this forced inaction. But finally
the gunfire began to grow more distant, and shortly it was drowned out completely by the engines.
The aircraft's speed pressed Heru-sa-aset back. He felt the instant when the wheels lost contact
with the tarmac.
They were in the air.
"Secure cargo bay for take-off," the pilot's voice quavered belatedly over the intercom. He was
obviously shaken, taking deep, calming breaths, seeking relief in checklists, protocol, and routine.
The YF-25 Serpentarius-VI didn't hit or encounter any attack planes. The pilot kept to low altitude,
probably breaking several hundred FAA regulations, until they were beyond the immediate
periphery of the airport. Heru-sa-aset swallowed hard. His ears kept popping. He and the others
settled in their places.
"Well, that was intense. What about radar?" Methos asked.
Heru-sa-aset glanced at him. "The mortals haven't anything that can pick up this jet. We are
invisible."
"Is that so?" Methos questioned again.
Heru-sa-aset looked at him in mocking suspicion. "My dear child, this is a YF-25 Serpentarius-VI
prototype, developed at Aeronautical Systems Center, Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio, under
my own specifications. It is going to be the replacement for several fighting planes someday
between the next ten years." The Prince eyed around him in admiration, obviously proud of his toy.
"The AF Research Laboratory and Lockheed Martin added laser beams to this aircraft. This baby
combines Stealth design with supersonic, highly maneuverable, dual-engine, long-range
requirements of an air-to-air fighter, and it also have an inherent air-to-ground capability, if
needed."
Methos raised an eyebrow. "So, basically your talking about that your fancy toy could enable us
first-look, first-shot, and first-kill capability."
"Of course," Heru-sa-aset admitted. "The airframe is made of titanium, aluminum, composites,
steel, and other materials. Titanium and thermoplastic composites comprise the largest percentage
of the equipment. Let's hope it will be enough against Lilitu."
"Talking about her," Methos looked at the others, who had remained pretty calm during the take
off. "What's next?"
"First, I need to get rid of this pilot," Heru-sa-aset commented.
"Once outside USA borders, we can find a clandestine airstrip in Mexico. They are many of them
because the drug-dealers," Myrddin suggested taking his computer. "I could find it via my
satellites."
"Do it, brother," the Egyptian Prince said smiling.
"What about the media?" Myrddin asked tapping the keys.
"Same as always," Heru-sa-aset answered. "They will report the strange circumstances of the
attack. The papers and the TV will be all full of stories of arsonists and mad bombers. The police
have leapt to many arrests, but that tactic it's not going to stick. It will become one of those heads-
will-roll embarrassments to the force. Right now many terrorist groups are naming and claiming
credit for the attack and their participation in the assault, but that will be even less credible. So, the
FBI guys are going to gearing up for an interstate manhunt. Nothing more. Not a word about the
Hunters, or us. I took care of that before leaving the airport. My only concern is the status quo of
the world. How are the countries' borders?"
"As before," Myrddin said without raising his gaze from the screen. "Many countries have their
armies waiting, but so far everybody is standing by."
"We need to find Lilitu before she tries something more radical," Zarach announced with concerned
tone. "Myrddin," he said glancing at the Druid, "anything new showing up on your computer?"
"Well, I looked for any strange, large-scale movements in the past few days. You know, large
numbers of men—perhaps troops. And definitely, unusually large money movements," he said,
scanning his companions. "However, as strange as it sounds, there were no clues about such
topics. It seems that not even the American CIA, the British SAS and CID branches, the French
Sureté, the Israeli Mossad, or the Russian KGB were aware of something. It seemed global
attention was focused in the natural disasters around the world."
Zarach's eyes narrowed. Beside him, Methos looked at the expression in his former master's eyes.
"However, you're suspecting something else. Is this not so, Myrddin?" the two-colored eyes
Immortal asked.
"Yes," the Druid nodded in agreement. "To tell you the truth, it always bothered me the way Lilitu
managed to kill those Immortals inside Holy Ground around the world almost at the same time."
For once, Myrddin put his laptop aside. A strange spark of knowledge shone inside his eyes. "Then
I remembered something Quetzalcóhuatl told me six hundred years ago."
The others looked at him intensely. Myrddin continued. "The Old Snake used to talk about the
Dream and its manifestations. He described it many times as the realm of death. A concept familiar
to me, I must admit. After all, we Celts believed in such things too. Sometimes Quetzalcóhuatl and
I theorized about the other world, and we came to the same conclusion: the magic of the Dream
was attained in bloody wisdom… elemental, essential, inescapable… love of the sensual tempered
by a profound respect for the spiritual. Light and dark, with endless shades between, the two
represent contrast and conflict, each defined by and dependent on the other. However,
Quetzalcóhuatl always remarked the fact that in this world—in our universe, I mean—there was no
real magic as we could imagine it. He always insisted that in order for the Dream to make contact
with us, it will always need a physical manifestation, a recipient if you will, a particular being with
certain characteristics to make the 'magic' work."
"A recipient such as Corazón Negro, the new Dreamer," Zarach affirmed.
"Ok, if Corazón Negro is the Dreamer, and therefore the chosen one to control the Dream because
of his particular characteristics," Methos spoke, "then how the hell did Lilitu ever manage to contact
the Dream world? According with Quetzalcóhuatl's knowledge it dwells in the darkness outside our
reality. Where did she find the spell that enabled her to communicate with it?"
"The Dream and the shattered worlds were described in a lost section of the Book of Enoch,"
Zarach said, naming the fabled volume of Immortal lore of which only fragments remained. "More
than a hundred years ago, a Watcher scholar found the forgotten passage carved on the wall of an
ancient tomb in the Middle East. Lilitu killed him before he could report the discovery to the
brotherhood. The formula inscribed on the stones enabled her to contact the Dream."
"That would explain her inherent capacity to escape from the Quickenings on Holy Ground," Aylón
commented for the first time. Once again, his voice was full of anger.
"Exactly," Myrddin continued. "Remember Pompeii? After she killed Angelus she got caught in the
Vesuvius's eruption and the subsequent earthquake. Afterwards, she locked herself for several
centuries in the tomb the Watchers found in Syria only last century. The one Methos investigated in
1985, after Quetzalcóhuatl's dead."
"And after she killed the Old Snake in Mexico back at 1985, she hid herself in Australia, until days
ago, when all this mess started," Methos commented.
"But this time is different," Zarach said. "This time, apparently she is not getting weaker because of
her killings on Holy Ground, otherwise, she could never escape in time before the destruction." The
two-colored eyes Immortal folded his arms across his chest. "Lilitu is a threat to both mortals and
Immortals. I am concerned with the survival of both races."
Heru-sa-aset sighed. "You know her better than any of us, Zarach. I think is time for you to talk
straight."
"Yes, it is time," Zarach agreed. "To understand fully the menace presented by Lilitu, we must
delve into the darkest secrets of the mythical tome known as the Kabbalah. There, hidden in a
language so obscure that only the most dedicated scholars can unravel it, are many of the so-called
basic truths about our world and its creation."
An odd look passed across Methos' features. His eyes widened, as if seeing something not visible to
anyone else in the aircraft. He gazed at Myrddin. Aylón, sensitive as the most, saw Heru-sa-aset tilt
his head as if answering an unspoken question.
Zarach continued. "According to tradition, these fragments once formed part of the Book of Enoch.
But those sections had been lost for thousands of years. Unfortunately, they were recovered by
Lilitu."
"Well? What did they say?" Methos inquired.
Zarach grumbled, the tone of his voice indicating that he was anything but happy. "Supposedly, in
the beginning, God said 'Let there be light' and there was light. Afterward, he created the heavens
and the earth. However, if there was a need for light, originally there must have been darkness.
Why darkness? The answer is simple. Before our world there were other worlds. Our universe was
not the first created by God. There have been other spheres. How many, I have no idea. The text
said others existed, but they were destroyed, either by God or by their inhabitants."
"Inhabitants?" asked Myrddin. "People existed before our world?"
"Inhabitants, yes," said Zarach. "People, no. God created the denizens of each sphere in his image.
However, as God was all encompassing, the forms of those beings were not the same as ours. Not
even the substance."
"The substance?" repeated Methos. "They were wraiths?"
"Those beings who inhabit this plane of existence, this other dimension, have form and shape,"
said Zarach. "Human and Immortals, we are creatures of flesh and blood. Some say that demons
and faeries when they manifest themselves take on physical form as well. Burt the inhabitants of
the Dream, creations of psychic energies, and wraiths, spirits of the dead, just have tangible
presences on our world. According with the Book of Enoch, this fact was not always true for those
spheres of reality that existed before our own."
"You are talking about the broken spheres," Aylón said softly.
"That is the name given to those earlier universes," said Zarach. "For though they were destroyed,
nothing created by God and thus touched by his presence can be totally annihilated. Fragments of
those other realities still exist outside our universe. And dwelling on them are creatures totally alien
to our dimension."
"I am beginning to have a very bad feeling about this story," said Methos.
"The news," Zarach answered, his features drawn, "is worse than you can image. If we are going
to believe the Book of Enoch, our reality and those broken spheres just intersect by way of the
Dream. The universes have no points in common, if not through the Dream. Travel between this
world and those that existed, is nearly impossible. But using the proper ritual, an inhabitant from
one plane can be transported to another."
"I see," Myrddin affirmed sadly. "Lilitu is walking inside the Dream! She is using some kind of
tunnels—so to speak—inside the other world. These passages allow her to appear in determinate
places at will—or almost."
Everybody remained in silence, pondering the weight of the facts. "The fate of the world depends
upon us stopping Lilitu," said Methos. "How much time do we have left? If the facts weren't so
grim, I think I'd find them amusing."
"These beings of the Dream," said Myrddin. "Do they have a name?"
"They are the dwellers in the outermost dark," answered Zarach. "They are called the Sheddim."
Resting his massive arms on his lap, Aylón leaned forward, his gaze sweeping across those present.
"Lilitu will try to bring them into our reality. I don't see where we have much choice. She must be
destroyed before she succeeds. And we're the only ones who have any chance of victory."
"The odds," said Myrddin dryly, "appear heavily weighed in her favor."
"Our position does seem quite desperate," added Methos.
"I agree," Aylón spoke again. "Still, we either sit back and wait for the apocalypse, or try our best
to prevent it. I'm not the waiting type, never have been, never will be. I plan to kill Lilitu or perish
trying."
"I always considered terrible odds a challenge," said Myrddin.
"I feel the exact same way about desperate situations," said Heru-sa-aset. "Now, what do we know
for sure about the Dream?"
Myrddin tapped his computer. "As far as I know, the other world is not always open—according to
Quetzalcóhuatl—not for him, not even for Lilitu," he said after a while. "So, she must retain her
physical form somewhere."
"In the so-called island of Nod," Methos said. "The Hunters' main stronghold."
"Exactly," the Druid agreed.
"And how are we going to find such place?" Aylón asked. His gaze was fiery. Obviously, he was
eager again to step into the battlefield.
Myrddin tapped on his computer again. His fingers flew over the keyboard. "There could be certain
places where the Dream is almost constantly open. Over the last five hundred years, as you all
know, strange events had occurred in the 'Bermuda or Devil's Triangle'," he said seriously. "It is an
imaginary area located off the southeastern Atlantic coast of the United States, which is noted for a
high incidence of unexplained losses of ships."
"This is great!" Methos said with mocking suspicion. "Are you serious? Now you're going to tell us
that we Immortals are aliens, cast away from our original planet as punishment?"
"No, I don't know from where you got that bizarre idea," Myrddin said grinning. "What I want to
say is that the Dream manifests itself toward certain places in this earth. Countless theories
attempting to explain the many disappearances in such spot like the Bermuda Triangle have been
offered throughout the history of the area. The most practical seem to be environmental and those
citing human error. The majority of disappearances can be attributed to the area's unique
environmental features. First, the 'Devil's Triangle' is one of the two places on earth that a
magnetic compass does point towards true north. Normally it points toward magnetic north. The
difference between the two is known as compass variation. The amount of variation changes by as
much as 20 degrees as one circumnavigates the earth. If this compass variation or error is not
compensated for, a navigator could find himself far off course and in deep trouble. Miami's Coast
Guard is not impressed with supernatural explanations of disasters at sea. It has been their
experience that the combined forces of nature and unpredictability of mankind outdo even the most
far fetched science fiction scenarios many times each year."
"Well, now you're making sense," Methos granted him. "You know what? On second thought, just
an idiot would imagine we Immortals came from out-space, I must admit," he added smiling openly
this time.
Zarach looked at Myrddin. "As always with you, that's not all, right?"
Myrddin nodded toward the two-colored eyes Immortal. "The Bermuda Triangle is not the only
place on earth that shows these characteristics. An area called the 'Devil's Sea' by Japanese and
Filipino seamen, located off the east coast of Japan, also exhibits the same magnetic
characteristics. It is also known for its mysterious disappearances. Within this area, say the ancient
tales, dragons dwell in undersea palaces, their movements churning up waves even on windless
days. Sailors say they have heard strange noises here, while at night, eerie red lights as bright as
the sun could be seen shining over the water from hundreds of miles away. Most powerful of all is
the dragon king of the Western Sea, Li-Lung, whose underwater palace is splendidly furnished with
treasures from ships he has sunk. Legend aside, in the last decades the Dragon's Triangle has
continued to claim victims. There are no survivors to tell tales and no identifiable wreckage to
examine."
"How convenient," Methos said in low tones. "But now you're talking about Godzilla."
"Well, yes, it sounds like that, but no," Myrddin said. "My point is, gentlemen, that I think the
Dream manifested itself through such places. And that's not all. There are in total twelve
'vertices'—or 'centers' if you will—of magnetic anomalies scattered throughout the world, all of
them placed between 36 degrees in both north and south parallels."
Myrddin turned his computer and showed them. A detail map showed the twelve points he had
referred scattered throughout the earth. "As you can see, one of these vertices is placed very near
Eastern Island, in the Pacific Ocean. I have the feeling that the island of Nod is around the area."
"That's very near where Corazón Negro and the others will be!" Methos exclaimed loudly.
"I know, but it makes sense," Myrddin affirmed. "Remember the words of Corazón Negro when he
felt Lilitu's presence at Connor's house, after the Berserkers attack? He said that Lilitu was in the
south."
"We can't worry about the others right now," Zarach said closing his eyes. Obviously this wasn't
easy for him. "Our main goal is to destroy Lilitu. Let's not forget that. We can only hope that Elena
and the MacLeods are skilled warriors and they will defend the Dreamer in his sleep."
"What exactly is Corazón Negro is going to attempt?" Methos asked, his voice unsure. He
eyed his companions. "Anyone?"
Myrddin deeply sighed. "The way I see it, he is going to open a gate toward the Dream. His soul—I
mean his essence, so to speak—is going to enter the other world in order to find Lilitu's
fundamental nature, the part of hers that controls the far beyond. I cannot say if the Dreamer is
going to destroy her in there, or if he is merely to cast her away from it. But either way, I suspect
that afterwards, he is going to close the Dream somehow. That way, Lilitu will be just like us.
Without the power of the other world, her own powers will be diminished."
"That is if Corazón Negro managed to eradicate her out of the Dream. What if not?" Methos
prompted.
"In that case, it’s up to us," Zarach declared. His voice was tired. His face was worried.
"What if we find the island of Nod and nuke it?" Methos inquired again, his gaze flying over his
partners.
"Is not as simple as that," Heru-sa-aset announced. "We are carrying six nukes with us. However,
we cannot risk that the possibility Lilitu escapes. She could manage to enter the Dream somehow,
even with the interference of the Dreamer. As I see it, the only way to be absolutely sure about her
death is in the traditional way. We must behead her in person. Nuking the island should be our last
resort."
"Well, I never planned to get that close," Methos stated grinning.
"First things first," Heru-sa-aset finished. "Myrddin, find that clandestine airstrip in Mexico. After we
leave the pilot, we should go after Lilitu. In the mean time," he said eyeing his comrades-in arms,
"I strongly suggest you, my friends, try to sleep a while. You look like a bunch of old fossils."
"Excuse me," Methos answered. "But that's exactly what we are!"
====================================
Cabin in the Pampa on the Duran Estancia, near Las Flores, Argentina
March 29, 2013
They arrived in the early nighttime. As they were unpacking their supplies from their rented Jeep,
Elena said, "The cabin is checked and cleaned every Tuesday like clockwork. It's Friday, which
should give us some days without interruption."
"We should be so lucky!" Connor exclaimed, putting down a bag of canned goods and looking
around and inside the cabin. He went up a spiral staircase to an airy loft, which overlooked the
living area downstairs. The loft had floor to ceiling windows along the north wall for light—it was
designed, after all, as an artist's studio, complete with tables, easels, paint supplies, even a potter's
wheel, and he spent a few minutes looking over some old paintings stacked in a corner. Someone
who had lived here had been a very talented portrait artist, he realized. All the windows provided a
beautiful view, but the place was impossible to defend; of course, no place was safe for them. The
loft overlooked the half of the first floor, which made up a large living area; the other half, the
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