by Carol Roi
The voice is familiar to me and I reach out to pull the hat he is wearing from his head. Long, riotous curls spill forth. "Mr. Sandburg. Sneaking about this part of town can not be conducive to good health." I put a hand on his shoulder and turn him to face me.
His eyes widen as he realizes it is my sword resting at the base of his throat. "Apparently not. Look, I'll make you a deal, you let me go and I'll leave here. Fair enough?"
"No." I reach out and, with my free hand, pull down the cuff of his left sleeve, exposing the mark on his wrist. "You're a Watcher, an Observer of Immortals." He opens his mouth, maybe to protest, but I tap his chin with the tip of my sword. "Don't deny it, Sandburg. I've been around too long, seen too many of your kind. You dog our heels, watching us, chronicling our lives. That is your job."
"Lady, I haven't a clue what you're talking about. I'm a student of Anthropology& "
My patience snaps and I backhand him, spinning him into the wall. Before he can recover, I've gotten behind him, my blade at his throat while my other hand covers his mouth. My next words are not pleasant. "No, Mr. Sandburg, you are not merely a anthropologist. For now, consider yourself part of the Game." I place my mouth right next to his ear, my voice lower than before and cold as the windswept plains of Siberia. "You are not Immortal. One more word from you and I'll kill you. Slowly. Do you understand?"
This young Watcher is wise as he barely nods his head, wary, I suppose, of the sharp steel lying next to his Adam's apple.
"Good. Now, you are an observer, so I'm inviting you to watch a meeting on Holy Ground between two Immortals, Watcher. You and I are going to walk into the church. My blade will be between us so don't think I won't kill you should you try to warn Diandra." I let go of his mouth and push him towards the side door of the church. "Gentlemen first."
As he opens the door, I hear him start to mumble and reward him with a slap on the hip with the flat of my sword. "Not a word, Watcher. No more warnings."
Damn! The Sanctuary is near dark, lit only by flickering candle light. The tingling running through my spine and into my head grows more persistent, telling me Diandra is near, very near. I sheath my sword, pulling a long dagger instead. The faintest noise turns my attention to the left and I snake my arm around the Watcher's neck and my blade caresses his throat once more.
"Let Blair go, Eolia."
I spin myself and my human shield around, looking for the owner of the soft, cold voice. "And give up my shield? I don't think so, Pythia! Show yourself!"
"He's not a part of the Game. You want to challenge me, fine. But you leave Blair out of this."
Damn it, where is she? In the tight confines of this holy place I cannot use her buzz to locate her, for it fairly bounces off the walls, confusing me. "Show yourself, Diandra, and I'll let your little Watcher friend go." The subject of the discussion starts to struggle in my arms, but a slight increase of pressure on my dagger against his tender throat stills his movements. "Be still, little mortal and you'll live to see the sunrise." The threat drips from my lips into his ear.
"He'd better."
I inhale sharply as I once again spin my captive and I to face that voice, and she is there. The long katana I recall from our meeting in Bonn is at the ready at her side. "Finally. Thank you, Diandra." I'm none too gentle as I release my hold on Blair Sandburg and push him towards her. "See? I honor my word, unlike you. This was to be a private meeting, yet you dare to let your little mortal tag along."
Sweeping her blade aside, Diandra catches the young man before he can fall into the pew I pushed him towards. As I watch, she gently checks him over, looking for damage, I guess, and finding it. His lower lip is bleeding slightly from when I backhanded him earlier.
Her voice is low, but not low enough to keep from echoing in the empty sanctuary and allowing me to hear her words. "Lobo, are you okay? What in the hell were you thinking?" Whatever his reply, far too low for me to overhear, it doesn't please my old friend. The dark eyes she turns on me are full of suspicion and distrust.
"You wanted to meet, Eolia, I'm here. But I swear to you, touch him again and I'll gladly separate your head from your shoulders."
Oh, dear! The passion in her voice! She cares for this mortal! I grin as I move to sit in the pew closest to the altar, wondering how I can play the trump card she has just handed me. "On Holy Ground, Diandra? I think not, unless you want this church to fall like Delphi. I don't relish the idea of being buried alive again, but I've survived far worse, believe me."
I follow her, as always, from a distance.
This place is special; I sense that. I've been here a near full turning of the seasons and I'm slowly learning the language, thanks to her, Diandra. She had trouble, at first, pronouncing my name, so she and the others here have taken to calling me Lia. I still don't understand what it is Diandra, my savior, does here, but it must be important. Every day there are more and more people coming to see her, asking for favors, offering all matters of gifts in return for a few words.
I've taken it upon myself to serve the lady, helping her in any way I can. But I never, never touch the white robes she wears. I can't. I'd get them dirty. But I do other things, keeping the vermin away from her chambers, cleaning her rooms and helping others to keep the rest of this place clean. Only, the others that live here, they avoid me. A few times, when no one knew I was about, I overheard them talking in the servants quarters. "Unnatural." "Touched by the Gods." And those are just the words I understand.
I follow Diandra whenever she leaves her chambers; no matter where she goes, I follow. This bright morning I follow her into the sacred place, the temple. It is here the people gather to hear the strange words that come from her when she enters the mists rising from a crack in the floor. An older man, dressed in similar robes stands close to her and tells the hopeful what her words mean. But he truly doesn't. At least, I don't think so. And she's so tired when she finishes these meetings she often leans on me when I escort her back to her chambers.
Today is different. As I follow her into the temple, I feel a sharp, tingling sensation run up my back and instantly, I know I must be on alert for danger. I run to catch up to her, my sandals slapping on the hard floor.
"Lady D! Lady D!"
She turns to face me, her eyes wide in surprise. "Lia? What is it?"
I've never spoken to her before, not in public, and the men and women surrounding her gasp in shock at the words I've spoken. I drop to my knees and pluck at her hem, "Mistress, don't go in the mists today. There is danger, I know it!"
"Foolishness, Dorian. What can this servant girl know of the future?" The Priest pulls me to my feet, handing me over to a temple guardian. "Take her back to the Dorian's Chambers& "
I start to fight the guardian, frantic to stay close to her. Her voice breaks through the noise I'm making in my struggles.
"No, Vasilis. Let her stay. She knows not to break the ceremony, and she'll only harm herself trying to get back here should we send her away."
The guard releases me and I return to her side, her hand resting on my shoulder as we walk towards the temple. The feeling of danger gets stronger and stronger the closer we get to the sacred place. I clutch the knife I hid among my clothes long ago. No one knows I have this blade, but I swear, no harm will come to Diandra. Not if I can help it.
Pulling the heavy door of the church open, the Champion entered slowly, reaching out with her hearing, letting her eyes adjust to the flickering candlelight. The chapel was deserted. Eolia was late. She disappeared into the shadows of one of the side galleries. This meeting would be on her terms.
The sounds of a scuffle outside caught her ear, and she turned up her hearing. Goddess! Blair, what in the world are you doing here? She felt her heart begin to race, echoing the fearful beat of his. Damn, damn! They were moving toward the entrance to the church, and she took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Lia wouldn't kill him, not here on holy ground, but that wouldn't stop her from hurting him if she thought it would s
erve her purpose.
"Sorry, Dee, Eolia's--" Blair's muffled warning was cut short by the noise of a blow, and Dee clenched her fist tightly, her nails cutting into her palm. They entered the church from the narthex, Eolia's arm around Blair's neck, a long, wicked blade pressed against his throat.
It was an effort to keep her voice level; the fear in his eyes made her want to scream in rage. "Let Blair go, Eolia."
The other Immortal whirled at the sound of her voice, dragging Blair along with her. "And give up my shield? I don't think so, Pythia! Show yourself!"
Dee felt a shiver run down her spine at the title. The Pythia was dead, had died when Delphi was destroyed. Fine, we'll turn it up a notch, find out what you're really here for. "He's not a part of the Game. You want to challenge me, fine. But you leave Blair out of this."
"Show yourself, Diandra, and I'll let your little Watcher friend go." Dee could see the woman's grip tighten on Blair as he started to struggle. Damn it, Lobo, don't antagonize her! Eolia's next whispered words nearly stopped Diandra's heart. "Be still, little mortal and you'll live to see the sunrise." She was serious, she would kill him if she had to, holy ground be damned.
"He'd better," Diandra ground out, finally stepping from her hiding place. The woman spun toward her voice, keeping Blair between them. His eyes met Dee's, relief at her presence written in them clearly. He had expected trouble, based on Diandra's description of Eolia, but neither of them had anticipated this.
"Finally. Thank you, Diandra." The Celtoi shoved Blair in Dee's direction; only the champion's quick reflexes kept him from being impaled on the blade she had drawn when the pair entered. "See? I honor my word, unlike you. This was to be a private meeting, yet you dare to let your little mortal tag along."
Dee ignored the other's words for the moment, running her hands over her lover, sucking in a sharp breath as she spied the blood on his lip and the rapidly darkening bruise on his cheek. Only his restraining hand on her arm kept her from shoving the smaller woman outside and taking her head. "Lobo, are you okay? What in the hell were you thinking?"
His answer was a low hiss as her fingertips traced over his cut. "I was thinking you shouldn't be here without a companion. I fucked up, I know--" A swift brush of her fingers against his lips silenced him.
She moved to stand between Blair and the other immortal. "You wanted to meet, Eolia, I'm here. But I swear to you, touch him again and I'll gladly separate your head from your shoulders."
The Celtoi smiled as if Diandra had just given her the keys to Fort Knox. Putting away her dagger, she dropped into a pew. "On holy ground, Diandra? I think not, unless you want this church to fall like Delphi. I don't relish the idea of being buried alive again, but I've survived far worse, believe me."
Sheathing her sword, Dee gestured for Blair to sit, and he did, on the bench across the aisle from Eolia. The Amazon remained on her feet. "So have I, Eolia, but we're not here to share old war stories, now are we? Why are you here?"
For the first time, the hard glint in the other Immortal's eyes seemed to soften. She stared at her hands for a moment, then glanced up toward the front of the church, avoiding Diandra's gaze. "Azir's dead," she finally said quietly, her voice catching on his name.
Dee took a step back, her hand going to Blair's shoulder, his warmth reassuring her he was safe and blessedly alive. "Goddess, Lia, I'm so sorry."
The smaller woman turned her face toward her, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. "I'm so lost, Dorian. It hurts so much& "
Moving into the pew, Dee ran her hand lightly over the distraught woman's hair. With a small, inarticulate sob, Eolia buried her face in Dee's stomach, wrapping her arms around her waist, and crying softly. "I'm so tired. I just want it to be over, I don't want to live without him, it's too painful. He was the only person who ever understood me, who ever loved me for me& "
Diandra slid into the seat next to the other Immortal, letting Eolia cry on her shoulder as Dee stroked her back. She looked up for a moment, her eyes meeting Blair's. He was watching her with a mixture of curiosity and compassion on his expressive face.
After a few minutes, Eolia sat up, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. "Sorry, didn't mean to get you all wet."
Giving her a smile, Dee said, "It's all right. Now talk to me. What happened to Azir? And what's this about being tired?"
The other woman ran a hand over her face. "It's not really clear; I wasn't there, but I found out it was a headhunter, one who doesn't play by the rules. Azir was shot first, then they took his head."
"Do you have a name?"
She shook her head. "No, no one I've asked has heard of him, though this doesn't seem to be the first time he's done this. I've searched for him for three months, but I'm giving it up now. It all seems so& useless. It won't bring him back, and every day that goes by is like another weight being added to my soul. I came to Cascade looking for you because Methos wouldn't grant my request. I'm hoping you will. I don't want to play the Game any more, Diandra."
Diandra had had an idea this was the direction the conversation was headed, but it still came as something of a shock. "I know how much you're hurting, Lia. I've been there. I spent two hundred years trapped inside my own mind because I couldn't deal with losing Lydia. And there was a time only a few months ago when I thought about giving up again, when I thought it just hurt too much to go on, and 2,800 years was enough."
"What made you think otherwise?"
"I found the mate of my heart." A gasp from Blair made her turn and smile at the stunned expression on his face. "I found out there's more than one love of a lifetime. It may be a thousand years in coming, but once you find it, all the heartache and the pain disappear."
Eolia gave her an incredulous look. "Lia, I know you don't want to think that right now, that the thought of someone other than Azir sharing your heart feels like a betrayal. But I think you owe it to yourself and to him to give yourself some time. Three months is nothing to us. Give yourself time to grieve for him, and time to heal. And well, if that takes a couple years, then so be it. If you want me to take your head then, I will. But right now, I know it's the grief and fear and anger talking, not you. Who knows? You might walk out of here today and run into the person who will change everything for you."
Lia shook her head, and got to her feet with a growl. "You just don't understand& "
"Yes, I do. I know exactly where you're coming from, and I'm not going to let your emotional reaction to Azir's death influence my decision. You are in no shape to make a life or death decision for yourself, so I'm going to make it for you." She rose to her full height and stared down at the smaller woman. "My answer is no. I will not take your head."
Eolia moved out into the aisle, pausing as she passed Blair, who had gotten to his feet when Dee did. "That's funny, you seemed awfully free with the threats earlier, when my blade was at your mortal's throat."
She went for her long dagger again, but this time Blair was ready for her. Grabbing her wrist, he dug his fingers into the pressure point there. The knife fell to the floor, the steel ringing on the flagstone as he brought her arm up behind her back and wrapped his other arm around her neck. This time it was his turn to whisper in her ear. "Just because I'm mortal, doesn't make me helpless."
"Lobo, you've proved your point. Let her go. You will leave here peacefully, Lia." It was not a request.
The Celtoi nodded slowly. "Yes, Dorian. I will leave, for now." Blair released his hold on her, and pocketing her blade, she stormed up the aisle and out of the church.
Part 7
Damn, damn, damn! The last Immortal I trusted to grant my wish, and she turned me down! Why?!
I try to calm myself on the drive back to the Excelsior, but my mind refuses to settle and my body is practically singing for release. So many thoughts crowd in on me, memories of the past, plans for the immediate future, the upcoming job I have to do at QuestScape. Unbidden, the voice of my dearly departed husband fills my head as the accompanying memor
y crashes into my mind.
You must fight to contain your fiery temper, Eolia. You weren't able to obtain the information we need with your methods, so now we use mine." He's gathering the items he needs to gain access to the Embassy.
I lash out, kicking a footstool across the small room of the apartment we've based ourselves out of here in Saigon. "Damn it, that's just it, Azir! I've never failed before. Never!"
He shrugs, his dark eyes full of repressed laughter. "Until you met me, you never had a man who was impervious to your charms." His movements are graceful, flowing as he walks over to me, his large hand chucking me under the chin, bring my eyes to met with his. "And I must admit, I am not as immune as I'd like to think."
He ducks his head in, his sensuous lips closing over mine, and slowly I feel the anger drain from me. His arms hold me close to his hard body, one toned through centuries of fighting and stealthy movements, but finally he pulls away, taking his warmth with him.
