Part Three: The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

Illya was moving before he even really registered the reality of the situation. He began crashing through the woods at top speed, hoping to overtake the creature and its burden. But for the falling rain, the forest was silent. There wasn't a single disturbance anywhere, nor the sounds of any wildlife.

He continued onward, desperately searching for some sign of the creature's passing; a footprint, a broken branch, disturbed earth, anything. But there was nothing, as if no man had ever passed that way before.

Looking around, feeling his heart pound, Illya came to a stop, trying to catch his breath. He wasn't certain how long he had run, but it had been long enough that he was winded. His head was pulsing with agony, making him a little dizzy. Still casting about, looking for some sign of his partner, he tiredly leaned against the nearest tree. He wasn't certain if the warm wetness in his hair was the rain or sweat. He ran a hand through his hair and for an instant he thought he saw red come away on his hand. But it was a trick of the light.

It was then that Illya realized that light was spilling through the trees, peeking out from under the distant clouds to shine the orange of sunset. He realized that he must have been running for hours. And with no sign of Napoleon or the creature, there was no telling which way they had gone and whether he had gone even close to the right direction.

"Illya, you idiot!" he cursed himself, pounding a fist on the tree in frustration. This sent a lance of pain through his head and he rubbed his temple trying to relieve it. It had been years since he had given into sheer panic. The last time it had required a THRUSH-made gas messing with his brain chemistry to accomplish it. He didn't have that excuse this time.

Thoroughly disgusted with himself, Illya collapsed back against the tree and slid to the ground, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his head hang forward tiredly. Running a hand over his face, trying to clear some of the water from his eyes, he desperately tried to rein in his scrambling mind, to figure out what to do.

The good news was that he knew roughly which way was west, thanks to the sunset. And that meant he knew east, north, and south. The bad news, his partner was missing, taken by some sort of savage beast, and between the hike with the THRUSHies and his blind panicked run, he had no earthly idea how far off course he had gone on his trek to the plane.

More bad news, Illya realized then that he was shivering. The raindrops falling from the canopy dug into his skin like icy knives. Setting the back of his hand to his forehead, he felt that it was still quite warm. Napoleon had been right. He was getting sick. And with the day and a half that he had been in this forest, it could have been any number of things that had caused it.

Somewhere, amongst his thoughts, he must have nodded off. He was jolted back to awareness by a sudden rumble of thunder. The woods were dark, now, and the sounds of the night time wildlife had returned. Somewhere in the distance, something that sounded vaguely like an owl of some sort gave a call, a dulcet tenor note drifting over the sound of the rain. Lightning flashed, lighting the area for a moment, beams cutting their way through the branches in misty shafts.

A poem filtered through Illya's beleagured mind and he smiled bitterly as his eyes adjusted to the darkness again.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep," he muttered to himself, "but I have promises to keep." Gathering himself, he used the tree to help lever him off the ground, turning toward the west. "And miles to go before I sleep," he finished as he began yet another long, unsure trek.

"Whose woods these are, I think I know," Illya said for what seemed to be the millionth time as he tried to keep himself alert and moving, "his house is in the village, though. He will not see me stopping here, to watch his woods fill up with..."

He trailed off, trying to think of the rhyme. Snow his brain finally decided.

"Mud," was the bitter word that came out of his mouth.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, somehow spurring him on through the continued sounds of the night forest. He stumbled a few times, his eyes trying to rapidly shift between the bright light of lightning flashes and the dark of the night.

"Between the woods and frozen lake," Illya mumbled to himself, trying to concentrate, "the darkest evening of the year. That you did but slumber here while we shadows did appear." He stopped short, his head screaming, and leaned against a nearby tree. "That's not right," he chastised himself.

A loud crack of thunder sounded almost directly above him. Leaning back, his face pointed upward to the rain, he gave an angry shout, lost in the echoing rumble.

"Will you stop raining already!" he screamed upward.

As if in answer, the rain seemed to come down even harder.

"That's what I get for shouting at the rain," he groused, pushing himself off the tree and taking a few steps forward again. "The rain in Spain, falls mainly... on my head... Olive oil." He shook his head trying to clear the disjointed thoughts. "Wait, what?"

Memories of past affairs drifted through his mind, jumbled with the scenery around him, another crack on the head amidst numerous ones. It felt like the migraine had never abated.

"Whose woods are these?" he idly asked himself, somehow still moving. "Whose woods these are, I... I don't give the slightest shit about."

A new sound split the night then, bringing him to an immediate halt, his senses on alert. It was a cry of terror. It didn't sound like any of the other sounds of the night wildlife he had heard so far. It sounded again, from another direction and he was able to pin down why. The voice sounded decidedly human.

Cautiously, carefully, Illya reached down for a thick branch that had fallen to the ground nearby. Holding it like a baseball bat, he slowly made his way in the direction of the sound. He felt a shiver work its way up his spine, though how he was able to distinguish it from the rest of his shivers he wasn't certain. But somehow he knew - he just knew - there were eyes in those woods.

Another scream in the distance, a different voice, it sounded like. Shaking, Illya made his way in that direction. The wildlife had gone quiet again. The thunder continued to roll in the distance. Illya's head throbbed in reaction to it.

Something reached out and swiped at his ankle, sending him tumbling face-first to the muddy ground. He sensed a presence bearing down on him from behind and rolled to the side just in time to avoid a slice of claws so pale they fairly glowed in the dark. He rolled to his feet, swinging with the branch and meeting nothing but air. But he saw the creature bound backward, landing in a crouch to look up at him. It tilted its masked face to the side as if pondering Illya and let out a chilling series of clicks. Then it was in motion again, charging Illya's direction. Stepping aside clumsily, Illya dodged it and followed through with an overhead strike with his branch. It met nothing but mud as it impacted the ground.

The creature sprang up against the wider tree trunks in succession, darting around Illya like a tornado. Desperately, he swung at it over and over until the branch shattered into splinters against a large boulder. The creature came to rest atop the boulder, looking down at Illya with that maddening head-tilt again.

"Where is he!?" Illya screamed, tossing the branch aside and throwing himself at the boulder, trying to make purchase on the creature. But once again, he felt only air as the creature leaped back, landing in a backward roll that took him into the underbrush. All was silent and still by the time Illya got around the boulder.

Another lightning strike sounded above and Illya shrieked with rage. As both sounds echoed off into the distance, they were answered by another voice giving a terror-filled scream. This time, the voice sounded familliar.

"Napoleon!" Illya exclaimed, his voice barely above a whisper.

He was in motion only an instant later, renewed energy propelling him in the direction of the sound. There was another scream a few moments later, maybe it sounded like Napoleon, but he wasn't certain. He veered to his right, following the sound and shoving branches out of his way as he ran. He altered course again when there was another scream. He wasn't certain which direction he was going any more, but he didn't care.

The screams were getting louder as he went, as if he was getting closer. They were also becoming more and more frequent, drowning out the noise of the rain, the thunder, and even Illya's own thoughts. He burst through a last wall of greenery and stumbled to a halt in a clearing. The screaming ceased at the same moment. Lightning flashed and thunder roared again. In the brief light, Illya saw the dark outline of some sort of a structure, silhouetted against the flashing clouds above.

A chill closed around Illya's heart like a fist. Barely able to keep his feet, he wandered toward the structure. He felt stone beneath his hands as they came to rest on its surface. He ran his hands over the edges of the stones, cut straight and true and aligned with purpose. Illya began to grope his way along the wall, looking for some sort of an opening.

Lightning flashed still again and he caught a clear glimpse of the stone beneath his hands. Carved into the surface were the weathered forms of figures and writing that he couldn't recognize. For some reason, it was important to get an idea of what the carving represented, so he waited for another flash of lightning.

When it finally came, Illya stumbled back away from the wall in fright. The writing was still a mystery, but the figures were unmistakable. Carved into the side of the stone was a beast with long claws, the slithering body of a serpent, and the back legs of some great dog. Above its open jaws, dangling from the claws of one hand, a man was poised to be dropped into the gaping maw. For a moment, Illya thought he saw the figure of the man writhe in terror.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark again, he realized that there was a warm glow coming from the inside of the ruin, just a little down the way. As silently as he could, Illya made his way to the opening. The light had retreated down a long, dark, narrow corridor, the source disappearing around a corner. Quickly and quietly, Illya chased after it, desperately trying to get his breath to quiet and his heart to stop pounding.

He rounded the rubble-strewn corner, ready to spring at an enemy. But instead, the corridor continued onward, empty of anyone else, the light once again retreating into the twisting depths of the structure, just out of sight. Illya pressed on, following it, deeper and deeper into the maze-like windings of the ruin.

The light began to get brighter now, and Illya's head was pounding in time with his heart. His vision was kind of swimming, making him feel somewhat detatched from reality, as if everything around him would melt away in an instant. He rounded one last corner and found there a large chamber, brightly lit with several small fires. Bones were strewn about the floor and it smelled of death.

Movement against the firelight caught Illya's attention, pulling his gaze toward a far corner of the chamber. Crouching there, its profile silhouetted against the firelight, Illya saw the masked creature. The mask was partially pushed back on its head and it was bent over something that was held to its mouth. Illya heard the sounds of gnawing and chewing.

The creature hadn't noticed him yet, so Illya scrambled out of sight, behind a large piece of rubble. It seemed like it was completely engrossed in its meal and Illya decided that now was his chance to get the drop on it. He darted from hiding spot to hiding spot, getting closer and closer to the creature. His breath caught in his throat and he nearly retched as he got near enough to see the creature's meal in the firelight.

It was the unmistakable form of a human hand. And on the pinky, glinting faintly in the firelight, was a familliar star-sapphire and gold ring.

NOTES: Yes, this chapter is disjointed. But it has nothing on the next one. Hang on, folks!