La Cueva de Salamanca

By: The Quiet Minstrel

PLEASE READ: Author's Note: This story takes its foundation from actual historical myths. I did not create the legend or the location of La Cueva de Salamanca, nor did I create Marqués de Villena. Second, and most importantly, this is NOT a story about religion. In no way am I implying how any religion is, was, or should be. I understand religion is a very controversial topic and brings out the passion in people's expression. This is a paranormal romance. This story is meant to entertain, if you are not entertained, let me know. If you are, I always appreciate the praise. If you have any problem with the religiosity of the work, just exit out of this story and move onto something else. Also, I do not own Gundam Wing, as usual. So, with that said, I hope you all can laugh and cry as much as I did during this journey; and I sincerely hope you enjoy, La Cueva de Salamanca.

Chapter One

The Legend: For seven months, seven men were trained in the dark arts by the devil himself in Salamanca. The only thing the devil demanded in return was that when their training ended, one of the seven would stay behind forever. Marqués de Villena was the man to draw the fateful card. The legend goes that he escaped from his prison, for reasons unbeknownst, but he left something critical behind—his shadow. No one knows why the devil wanted to keep one of his pupils; no one knows what happened to the shadow or Marqués de Villena for that matter. And as all legends go, no one knows for sure if any of it actually transpired.

But perhaps it did. The story goes like this:

Heero Yuy walked slowly around Art Deco museum. Each figurine and piece of work depicted the rise of women. The smiles, the unforgiving stances, the symbols of passion all stood at the forefront; while the images of somber women, subdued women played a quieter harmony that reflected the truth of the centuries. Right now, Heero was connecting much more with the somber and subdued mood. The sun started to set and Heero knew he'd have to leave soon. He was sure his tour group had long dispersed in favor of a more social form of education. Eager to see Salamanca in the dying light of day—when the city was at its most beautiful, Heero strode with purpose for the first time since he had entered the museum. A collage of smaller paintings that looked more like a cloister of pictures caught his attention for one small detail in bottom right corner. There was a picture of a man knelt on the floor, collapsed and defeated, his head in the lap of a woman.

Why was this so striking? Was it that a male was showing weakness to a woman? Or was it simply that he had not seen a work of art in years that had shown the vulnerability of the mortal man? All the pictures of Christ at all the museums and churches he had visited had depicted Jesus as stoic even when nailed to the cross. Never had he seen a man so destroyed as in this small painting. Now, this was something he could truly relate to.

"¿Señor?"

Heero snapped from his reverie and listened to the attendant ask if he was just about ready to leave. Noticing he was one of the last few in the museum, he made quick work of thanking the staff and stepped out of the building into the hot summer air. The city had turned into gold just as he had hoped. It had been good for him to get out of Madrid. When the Preventers had sent him there to oversee a base closer to the Sanq Kingdom in France, he had reluctantly agreed. Working as an international agent without a wife, kids or even family put him in a situation of virtual obligation. If he didn't uproot, someone else would have to and he imagined it was a man like Wufei who had a wife, kids and an investment in staying put. And so, with his longtime friend in mind, Heero had packed his belongings and moved to the large city. Not that there was anything wrong with Madrid. It was rich with national and world culture. It never slept and if someone smiled at you in a metro they were a tourist. It really was a city made with men like Heero in mind.

And yet, since he spoke the language the problem was people wanted to speak with him. Then again there was also the problem for Heero that there was no such thing as sitting down for a nice, quiet coffee—especially in his neighborhood. The waiter had an adamant interest in his new life in Spain. Had he traveled yet? Was he settling in? How did he like this plaza or that plaza? Though he had a card that now said he was a Spaniard by nationality, he felt like anything but. His definition of a good time was not meeting up two hours after they planned on meeting up to drink and eat at a bar over the span of three hours, clustered together and waving limbs as though conducting the crescendo of a Beethoven symphony. But then again…his idea of a good time was also not coming home to a tiny apartment, alone each and every night. So utterly alone. When had it begun to bother him? When had the silence begun to scream at him? When had it stretched beyond physical space and into emotional dimensions?

Creak…squeak, squeak, squeak…

Heero stopped dead in his tracks and in his mind to look to his right to see a small, black gate swinging slightly in the wind. The sun was setting fast now and so Heero figured it couldn't be an entrance to a park or museum. Heero was not a man of curiosity but he was a man of answers. He turned to the gate and peeked through the warping iron slats. It looked like an abandoned neighborhood alcove but there was a littering of plaques explaining the significance of what looked to be so…insignificant. Okay, now he was a little curious. Looking left and then right, he slipped through the gate and turned to the plaque against the wall. Salamanca was rife with local legend but this was the most convoluted, intricate, and confused legend he had yet heard of. Some maintained that this was a site developed by Hercules himself, some believe the Celts held the area, and local legend mostly agreed this was where the Seven had learned the Dark Arts from the devil himself.

The Seven? Dark Arts? Heero looked to the left at the dark shadow of the church that overshadowed the alcove. Oh the irony. Yet, even he knew the man the church had been dedicated to had been a wizard before a Christian. Maybe…just maybe… Heero did an about face to greet the rumored Door to the Underworld. La Cueva de Salamanca. A golden stone arch that shielded a set of stairs from the elements. The sun was just about to fall below the horizon and Heero could not ascertain if the pull he felt was due to the time constraint of the encroaching darkness or if it was something all together different. Either way, Heero Yuy felt a lure unlike he had ever felt before. It was as if a web encased his chest and centered on a string being coiled around a long, delicate finger; slowly twirling, patient but powerful in its seduction.

First the right foot took him into the protection of the arch, and then the left drew closer, the right, the left and then the right came up against the first step onto the stairway. Heero peered up and saw a grate that protected those above from stepping through the hole in the sidewalk. Why did he want to walk up a few steps just to collide with a metal grate? He came, he saw, and now it was time to go. Besides, night was just seconds away from falling entirely upon him like so many pounds of black silt. Yet, his left foot had already ascended to the next step, that twirling finger mindless, careless of Heero's desire to leave. Again, the forward movement of a possessed man took over. Another step and another. Even when he had climbed as far as he could, he watched his hand reach for the iron grate. And though he knew darkness was falling, it startled him that the closer his hand got to the grate, the darker his world became.

In the split second before he could feel the cool metal beneath his fingertips, everything went dark. And instead of grabbing a grate…

…a hand grabbed him.

(O)(O)(O)

Duo had earned his name. He had once been a man, centuries ago. But his body had escaped and with it, his identity. All that had left behind had been literally the shadow of the man that escaped. The Seventh. He had been The Seventh, the sacrifice for the knowledge of the other six that were allowed back onto Earth. Or, at least, the man who owned the body who had owned him had been The Seventh. He refused to even use the name of the man who had owned him. He much preferred Duo. The irony of it constantly reminded him of his reality, his world. He was just a thing. A shadow. A shadow without a body to even attach to. He was one thing that needed to be a part of something else. He was single part of what needed to be a duo. Yet…

Duo looked over at the half-man, half-goat that sat in a large oak armchair reading a leather-bound book with little interest. Diablo. The devil. Lucifer, as he hated to be called. The devil had given him the last thing in the universe he needed—he had given Duo a soul. A shadow with a soul. The shadow needed a body to follow. The soul needed a body to guide.

Yes, Duo was indeed two things. Two things that hated each other. That were never meant to coexist. That fought each other to the bitter end—an end that would never come.

The devil shut his book and stood, already walking towards the door of the study. "I have business on Earth," he spoke in a voice that was felt in the head and not heard by the ears. Not that Duo really had ears to hear with. Granted, most of the time he maintained the image of a body just to give his two halves some kind of reconciliation. A young man with brilliant cobalt eyes and a wealth of chestnut hair. The devil often took pleasure in yanking on the braided hair. And of course, the fiend took great pleasure in informing Duo that he was about to do the one thing Duo could not—go to Earth. Truly, Duo could walk the earth but he was unseen, unheard, untouched and unable to influence in return. He was as invisible as a gentle breeze but lacked even the power to touch another life. The walls have ears? Those were his. I feel like we're being watched? Those, too, were his eyes. The devil's spy. The perfect spy. A spy with no footsteps, no sound and no trace. And so, while Duo could go to Earth, he could not go as the devil did, as a man of flesh and blood and power.

Just after the devil had left Limbo, something deep in their world stirred. Strange, in this Limbo, he should have been alone. This was the domain for him and the devil alone. That was at least one thing they had in common: they preferred darkness, silence and solidarity. When one worked in opposition to the church, the voices they heard were never in reverie, in praise, in wonder or in quiet pleas. The voices they heard were screams, sobs of denial, anger and even the rare bargainer. Silence was golden. Golden like the city the sound was coming from. The door to Salamanca. Duo raced across time and space to reach the long forgotten portal. Local legend, carefully cultivated by the Celts had discounted every scrap of truth. Even The Seven were now a legend. Seven men that had not only actually existed but had shaped history as they went out into the world with what the devil had taught them. They should have been legendary, not legends. Yet, Salamanca was a city so bogged down in legend that it was impossible to even glean an ounce of truth out of the mess.

So swamped in purposeful confusion that no mortal should have ever known how to get through the portal. Every piece of evidence leading back to the truth of la Cueva de Salamanca had been destroyed, methodically and carefully. There was only one way to enter the portal, only one way to know how…

Whoever it was climbing the stairs was a descendent of The Seven. Duo felt fear grip him, excitement compel him, and shock numb him. When Duo reached the portal he looked down and saw the olive-tinted, callused hand of a mortal man, reaching up as though possessed. Dear God above and Hell below, this man was being lured! There was only one other in this realm besides him, so if Duo had not sent the call, the devil had. Anger swept through Duo like a fire swept over oil. So the devil wanted this man? He'd just see about that.

When the hand finally reached the thin barrier that separated their worlds, Duo gathered all his strength and willpower, reached down and pulled.

Hard.

(O)(O)(O)

The local security guard hastily looked over his shoulder as he awkwardly jogged on stubby legs to the gate that was swinging in the wind. Dear God, how had he forgotten to lock the gate? If his boss ever found out…

When he reached the enclosed area he swept his flashlight up through the levels of staircases and walkways. No sound. No movement. As he made his way back to the gate he cast a quick glance to the stone steps that led to the grate.

No one.

Good.

(O)(O)(O)

Heero at first thought someone had removed the grate and pulled him up through the sidewalk. He thought maybe a guard or a policeman had thrown him up against a wall. He thought it had to be something, anything other than what it seemed.

He was up against a cold stone wall, his eyes unable to adjust to the endless darkness; there was one hand on his racing heart, and another on his face, pulling his attention downward. When his eyes met another pair reality sank in. He was no longer in Salamanca. He was no longer even on Earth. No being had those eyes. No being was so beautiful. Even the greatest artist on earth had not been able to capture such surreal, such unreal beauty.

"Who are you?" the smaller man demanded. "Give me your name! Now!"

Give me your name? At once, it seemed a question of not only where but in what space of time had Heero gone. Despite the innocence in the manner of restraint, Heero decided to free himself. With a hard shove he sent the stranger sprawling. And just as he moved to step around his supposed captor, a part of him that had been silent all his life stepped forward and tried to take control. It was as though his right hand wanted to reach down, help the man up, check to make sure he was okay, apologize…to care for…

Damn it, was it not that hand that got him in this mess in the first place? Heero sharply ignored the hidden desire and began to take cautious steps backwards and away from the beautiful man. He dared not turn and run just yet, for truly, where would he go? Further into darkness? Further away from the only place on this earth he knew? At the moment his reality consisted of two things: the grate and that man. He hoped to remedy that soon.

Duo sat on the floor, stunned. How many centuries had it been since he'd felt the touch of another? It hurt and yet the sensation of hurting felt remarkably good. He had no idea how long he sat, analyzing the feel of tenderness on his chest, the burning of his skinned palms. He had forgotten that in this realm, he did exist, unlike on Earth where he was forced to shed this body. When the pain began to fade, Duo stood with a heavy sigh. He could not let this man just take off running. There was nowhere he could go to hide anyways, so why tire him out so much?

"You can give me your name or I can take it from you," Duo warned, his back still turned to this new man. He heard it then, the sound of his acquaintance turning to flee, the barest hiss of shoe soles on the floor. Poor choice…Duo thought sympathetically. With a grim smile, he shot his hand in the direction of Heero's body and watched as he stopped in a dead sprint. Duo flicked his wrist and Heero thusly flew into the air as though suspended by his shoulders. Keeping his palm upwardly turned, Duo began to make a slow, lazy circle around Heero to inspect the man. It was clear by his face that he was either in his late twenties or thirties maybe, with the way people aged nowadays. His body was in peak condition and it was obvious he had mixed heritage. "Your name," he reminded.

"Will you take my will from me next?"

"If I must, though, you fail to see my motive. I am not what you should fear. My master is the one you should fear. I may be the only one in the universe who can save you. If I do not know who you are, I cannot find out how you came here. And if I do not know how you came here then I cannot figure a way to get you out whence you came."

Heero wanted to smile, if only just a bit. The man circling him was trying hard to use modern English but was failing just about every other sentence. Small slips that betrayed his habits. So, an immortal being could have habits. Interesting. Not entirely devoid of human faults, it would seem.

"Who is your master?" Heero asked, trying to get a better perspective on the situation.

"Have you no idea?" Duo nearly yelled, his temper growing thin. When Heero gave him a dumb look, Duo growled, "You are one step away from Hell itself, my lack-wit friend."

"Hell," Heero repeated. "There is a physical Hell?"

"Physical?" Duo laughed. "Oh, sweet thing, you no longer live in a land where the laws of physics apply. Nothing here is physical except, perhaps, the things I could do to you…"

The part of him that had reached out and tried to help the braided man came forward again. Heero felt his stomach spasm, his groin tighten and his diaphragm pull hard for air. The things I could do to you…

"Heero Yuy. That is my name. Heero Yuy."

Hidalgo Yuri. Duo took a staggering step backwards. His shadow screamed in denial and his soul cried out with a joy Duo did not know he was capable of ever feeling...his hand faltered, his concentration broke, causing Heero to fall hard to the floor.

When Heero looked up to see what he had done to earn such treatment, his captor's eyes were far, far away…

(X)(X)(X)

"I am leaving now," Hidalgo called to his wife as she sat in the solar, stitching a tight weave for their infant daughter's new dress.

His wife has long ago stopped responding. Hidalgo was ever coming and going. Such was the way of men. Though her man, her husband, never uttered a word to her as to his affairs, his business. Not a single word. She had learned long ago not to ask for it sent him into a rage. Her mother had wisely counseled her to leave her husband's affairs alone. She should feel blessed for being married to such a wealthy man who had not sired any bastard children in his thirty years on Earth. Be grateful, and be quiet. She listened to the door close and sighed. Yet another evening was beginning in the Yuri estate.

Hidalgo closed the door and sighed. The house was stifling. His clothes were stifling. This heat was stifling. And his life was…suffocating him. He was past the point of discomfort. He ached now for just a whisper of freedom to enter into his restricted life. His noose grew snugger with each passing week and more painful with each month. Yet, for the same reason he couldn't breathe, he could also feel some semblance of release. A man. Marqués de Villena. They had grown up together. Attended school. And fallen in the most forbidden sense of love.

Hidalgo strode to the stables where his fastest mount was saddled and ready. Thanking the stable boy for his diligence, Hidalgo mounted up and tore off through the back streets of Salamanca to the other end of the city where Marqués kept residence alone. Having inherited all his family's fortune with no mother or father alive to demand he marry, Marqués has chosen to remain single despite public skepticism and religious censure.

As usual, when Hidalgo arrived to Marqués' sprawling estate, he was waiting casually in the doorway, his hip propped up against the jamb, arms folded. That was Marqués. He wielded his beauty and intelligence like the deadliest of sabers. His peculiar blue eyes bore deep into Hidalgo's soul, exposing him in a way no one else could. His smug expression, the right side of his lip curled more than the left, indicated he knew what kind of power he held over the most respectable noble in Salamanca.

Hidalgo handed his horse to the waiting stable boy and strode as casually as possible to greet his lover.

"May I inquire as to the health of your family?" Marqués murmured in a voice that put the romance back into the romance language.

"They are all well, I thank you," Hidalgo bit out, his blue eyes narrowing. His companion was in a strange mood today. Distant. Cold.

"Do, come in."

Hidalgo followed Marqués through the house in silence to the back of the estate where Marqués' sinful and sprawling bedroom overlooked the lush scenery of the countryside and the winding river. Gossamer silk hung over the huge poster bed that could fit ten grown men comfortably. Wide, long chaise lounges of velvet offered a change in pace if the bed became too bland. A Persian rug before a huge fireplace for winter excursions. And of course, as massive tub carved right into the floor for another change in scenery. The room was built for sex and housed all kinds of secret compartments for the most sinful of devices. Yet, Hidalgo knew he was Marqués' only lover. His companion had the reputation of a seducer but he was more loyal than the priests were to their faith.

Hidalgo understood Marqués' transformation was a shield, a defense. He had to own his reputation lest it be used against him. He had to weave mystery to avoid anyone seeing too close and discovering the truth. Marqués had become the devilish man he was to keep Hidalgo, respectable and quiet Hidalgo, safe.

"Marqués," Hidalgo tried to begin as the door was locked behind him.

"No!" Marqués hissed, shoving Hidalgo towards the bed. "We shall speak later. For now you will give me precisely what it is I want."

Hidalgo's heart broke in that instant. Of course he would never be able to give Marqués what he desired most. He knew it ate at Marqués worse than any disease that Hidalgo was not his and his alone. That he had to wait patiently and pick of the scraps of time his lover was able to afford him. And while Marqués would never breathe a word of those desires aloud, it came through in the violence and desperation of their lovemaking. More often than not, Hidalgo left Marqués on the bed, unable to stand, unable to do more than hobble for the days that followed. He left Marqués in the physical wreck he already was inside.

And all because Hidalgo was not strong enough to give up on his love for this man.

(X)(X)(X)

"Get up," Duo hissed, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Get up!" he shouted, not waiting for Heero to heed his command, reaching down and pulling the man into a standing position. "Follow me, we need to be quick, I have no idea what time that fucking bastard is due to return."

Well, at least his swearing was up to par, Heero mused as he found himself being dragged behind a man that was half his size and a hundred times his strength.

"Where are we?" Heero demanded. "And who are you?"

"You are in a dimension of Limbo, a sanctuary the devil created; and, as I said, one step away from Hell itself."

"And you are?"

Duo looked back with a smile that caused Heero to trip. Bright white teeth flashed a predatory smile, his eyes exposing Heero to his very core. "I can be whatever you want me to be."

Heero frowned. He had never felt so powerless in his life. Here he had given his name in hopes of some sort of compromise for information and he hadn't learned a damn thing. One minute he had managed to push the man to the ground, the next he was suspended in midair, the next he was crashing to the ground, and then finally, he was being dragged by a man he had so easily pushed to the floor.

"Where are we going?"

"I am not going anywhere. You, however…" Duo died off, his mind racing through all the portals on earth. Where would Heero be safest until he could figure out what was going on? Where would the devil look last? "Scotland," he answered at long last. The highlanders still held a small group of druid followers that still understood the power of the standing stones. "You should be safe there long enough."

"Long enough for what?"

"For me to figure out why the devil wants to get his hands on you."

"The devil…wants me?"

"No one stumbles into his own private liar by accident, foolish mortal. You were drawn to the portal, you were lured to walk up those stairs and reach through that metal grate."

"If he wants me so badly, why wasn't he the one to pull me into this realm?"

Duo halted so suddenly that Heero actually collided with the shorter man. Duo whirled around. "Why, indeed," he growled, not believing he hadn't thought of that first. So convenient for the devil to leave just as Heero Yuy, a direct descendent of The Seven, arrived—leaving Duo to snatch him from the portal. "No matter for now. I will deal with this."

"Why are you helping me?"

Duo felt his soul cry out words of love and devotion. He felt his shadow turn black and violent with resentment. And he landed somewhere in between. "You are of little importance to me, mortal, but I find meaning in eternity to cross with the devil whenever I can do so. Consider yourself a pawn."

When Heero didn't speak, Duo looked over his shoulder, having already continued his fast march across the endless darkness.

"Does it not surprise you that your mortal soul, your fragile life, is just a piece on a board we control?" Duo mocked.

"No, I suppose it isn't so surprising when humans use others, whose lives and souls should be equal, as pawns for their own gain. I was a soldier once," Heero murmured. "And what are soldiers if not pawns?"

Anger rolled over Duo like a tidal wave. Did this man not understand? Any second his life would be forfeit and no one here would cry for him, mourn him, care that they had snapped their fingers and subsequently snapped his neck. Was he trying to be so calm as to evoke some kind of desired response or did this man just not give a fuck?

"If only those who went to Hell were as understanding as you," Duo groused. "No martyrs here."

"How did you end up here?"

"I played a dangerous game with the devil and lost."

Heero scoffed. "You don't look like the kind of man that just happened to get the short end of the stick."

"Oh, do I not?" Duo mocked, not daring to look back at the quiet but assured knowing that would be stamped on the man's face. "Might it amuse you to learn that I am not a man at all? That what you see is merely a disguise?"

"Even the joker has to paint his own face."

"Oh. My. God! If you were not a descendent of one of The Seven, I would just let him have you, you insolent prick! Now, jump down this hole and when you orient yourself, head north to a small town. Look for a man named…his surname should be MacAlpin. Find his kin and they shall give you shelter. Return to the stones in three day's time. Do you understand me?"

Heero nodded.

"Listen to me and heed me well," Duo hissed, grabbing the man by the collar and pulling him down until they were nose-to-nose. "I cannot leave this realm. There is no way for me to come find you. You have to be back in the stones in three day's time exactly or you are worse off than a dead man. Do you truly understand me?"

"Yes," Heero nodded again.

"Your word?"

"Yes, you have my word."

"No, say 'I, Heero Yuy, give you my solemn word.'"

"I, Heero Yuy, give you my solemn word," Heero snapped back, his confusion riding hard on his temper.

"Well done, my unfortunate mortal," Duo murmured, pulling Heero down to capture his lips briefly in a kiss. Worlds collided as lips gently met. Duo felt the universe tilt beneath his feet as the cosmos whirled above his head. Night became day and eternity, a second. His soul leapt forward, weeping with joy, strength renewed. His shadow, however, grew dangerously quiet. Duo pulled back, forcing his soul to remain with him. He hid his shock, hid his fear, behind a mask of indifference. At least his body was well trained. "Now, Go." With a hard shove he pushed Heero through the portal, watching him fall to the hard, unforgiving ground.

(O)(O)(O)

"I have returned, did you miss me?" the devil purred, running a long nail down the side of Duo's face.

"Were you expecting company?" Duo asked idly, sitting long-ways in his favorite red-velvet armchair. Two long legs dangling provocatively over the edge as he examined the end of his braid.

The devil whirled around. "Where is he?"

"Master, if you were expecting company, you should have informed me prior to your departure."

"Why? What did you do to him?" the devil demanded, grabbing Duo's hair by the roots and pulling back with a neck-wrenching snap.

"I tucked him away and he will stay tucked away until you tell me why the descendent of Hidalgo Yuri came knocking."

"Ah, so you recognized him," Lucifer noted, his eyes narrowing with intent.

"He gave up his name with some difficulty. Heero Yuy and Hidalgo Yuri are not exactly hard pieces to put together. Now, why did he come here?"

"Duo, my diabolical Duo. You are protecting the man! I knew you would! After all these centuries, Marqués is still in you."

Duo growled low in his throat but knew better than to challenge the devil. "Why, master, did you summon Heero Yuy?"

"I sent six men, armed forever with the darkest of knowledge, back out into the world for one reason and one reason only—to breed vessels. Bodies that one day you could inhabit and exploit that ancient knowledge I infused into them all those centuries ago if the unthinkable ever happened."

"What is happening?" Duo ground out, not really wanting to hear what put such a guarded look in the devil's eye.

"In a week, God will send down a fallen angel. The only man that can destroy him or ensnare him is you Duo. The Seventh. The chosen. You drew that fateful card…only you possess the ability to defeat the Fallen."

Duo felt his heart stutter. A curious feeling he'd not experienced in well over three hundred years. He had only ever thought the Seventh was a sacrifice, not an investment. The brutal truth caught in his throat…Marqués de Villena had not been the destined one. He had used the knowledge the devil himself had given him to make himself the Seventh; to spare Hidalgo…

(X)(X)(X)

The first man drew his card. Blank.

The second man drew his. Blank.

The third. Blank.

The fourth. Blank.

The fifth. Blank.

Marqués closed his eyes, knowing what he must do. Regardless of the card he drew, he would use the same powers the devil had given him to fashion his card to be the doomed one. Hidalgo sat beside him, eyes wide with fear and concern. Marqués knew Hidalgo wanted to draw the card. That his lover was desperate to save him. Just like Hidalgo, always fighting with his ironclad conscience. Always wanting to save the day. Was it not time that his love realize that he had too much on Earth waiting for him when Marqués had nothing at all? Just heartache, loathing glares, and cold, hard money.

Marqués, the sixth, drew his card, opened his eyes and then went as stiff as a board. It was blank for a split second as Marqués realized Hidalgo would have drawn the cursed card. Then, reaching for the darkness that came so readily to the devil's brightest student, he transferred the "X" from the remaining slip to his. He gasped and looked at the devil as though he could not believe it had been him.

The devil looked at him with purpose. With the kind of knowledge that implied Marqués had no idea just what he had done by drawing that card. The devil did not want just another soul. He wanted a particular one. And apparently, it was Marqués' that he wanted.

(X)(X)(X)

To this day, Duo had never told the devil what his former master, Marqués, had done. He thought that it was Duo who possessed the particular chemistry to defeat a fallen angel and use a lesser being such as the last remaining descendent to use as a vessel.

But the roles were reversed. Marqués had fooled the devil himself that fateful day and now…now it was Duo that held the power without the ability, and Heero that had the ability but lacked the power.

Duo looked up at the devil and in that moment he saw a creature he hardly recognized. The half-man, half-goat standing before a raging fire looked like a tormented soul.

"What interest do you have in saving mankind?" Duo asked warily.

"Have you heard the mortal phrase, 'Satan's spawn'?"

"Yes," Duo breathed, unable to believe what the devil was about to tell him.

"It is true, my beauty. I have investments on earth as well…and when that angel does fall in six day's time…well…you were a religious man once, I needn't tell you the consequences."

Duo had told Heero to meet him in three days time…that only gave him three days to formulate a plan and three days to execute it.

"Forgive me, master," Duo spoke wearily, rubbing at his sore eyes.

The devil turned slowly, having never heard such remorse in all his existence.

"I loved him," Duo whispered. "Or rather…Marqués loved him…"

"Duo…" the devil began slowly, a look of sheer terror engulfing his features.

"You were deceived. Marqués was The Sixth. The vessel, Heero Yuy, descendant of Hidalgo Yuri, was the destined Seventh."

"Oh…no…" the devil breathed.

Duo stood slowly and then knelt before his master. "I sent him to Scotland while I endeavored to discover why you summoned him. He is alive though for what purpose now, I do not know."

"He is on Earth?"

"Yes."

The devil reached down and pulled Duo up by his collar so that his feet hung limply in the air as the devil's red eyes burned right through Duo's. "You will possess him, and in three, at the most four, days I expect you to be fully prepared to face the Fallen."

"He will not come back to the stones for another three days under my command and both you and I know that I cannot possess a soul without permission…he would have to hear me to grant it...and I can't be heard on Earth."

"Then I will just have to go get him myself, now won't I?" the devil snarled as he threw Duo to the ground. "While I am gone, I want you in that library, reacquainting yourself with every spell, every weave and every incantation of the Dark Arts known. Though destined you were not, you were my greatest student."

"I, Duo, give you my solemn word."

The devil nodded and turned in the direction of the portal Duo had put Heero Yuy through. He stopped halfway out of the room. "You say that Marqués loved Hidalgo, and that is why he deceived me?"

"Yes," Duo admitted. "Or at least, that is what my soul remembers."

The devil seemed to recede within himself for a moment before speaking again, "and how did you react to him this time?"

"My soul wanted to save him and my shadow wanted to kill him."

"Now, that is a problem. Perhaps our gravest."

Without another word, the devil was gone, racing towards the portal.

Now, that is a problem. Perhaps our gravest.

Though the fire raged throughout their study, and though Duo only wore the guise of a mortal man, he felt a very real shiver run down a spine he was not supposed to actually have…