Daryl raised his chin, tightening his hand around the hilt of the sword he held at his side. What he'd said was the truth, painful as it might be for the other immortal to hear. Surely Adam could see that. His eyes widened as he saw the reaction to his words. The previously mild-mannered immortal's face twisted in fury as Adam stalked forward, his eyes hard and cold. Daryl couldn't look away, feeling like he was a bird trapped in a snake's stare.

Adam grabbed him, picked him up as if he weighed no more'n a child, and slammed him back against a tree trunk. The sword fell to the round, unnoticed. Daryl had no time to gasp for the breath knocked out of him. He scrabbled uselessly at the rock hard muscles holding him, dangling against the tree. Adam leaned forward, showing no strain at all. "You keep that 'crippled old man' alive, no matter what, you hear me? As long as you're with us. No matter what. He's your first priority. If… If there's no other option," Adam stopped, breathed, his eyes closing as if in pain. When his eyes opened again, they were bleak. "If it comes to it, if there's no other way, you kill him. Painless. And make sure he can't come back."

Adam seemed to be waiting for a response, so Daryl nodded as best he could, still half stunned at Adam's speed and sheer ferocity. He was in the presence of a predator — one that was stronger and more powerful than him.

That must have been enough of a response, because Adam released him. He collapsed, sucking in great lungfuls of air, staring up at the immortal, trying to make sense of what just happened.

One thing was sure. He'd do his damndest never to cross Adam Pierson again.

Methos forced himself to release Daryl, not caring that the younger immortal collapsed against the tree. "Pick that up. Lesson one. Never lose your sword."

Daryl, visibly pale, stared at him like a rabbit at a wolf, while bending to pick up the sword. He straightened, the sword in hand. It seemed to give him courage. "What's lesson two, then?"

"Survive." He drew his sword, and without waiting for Daryl to bring up the cavalry sword in defense, stepped forward with an overhand slash. "Defend yourself."

Daryl managed to bring his sword up to fend off the sudden onslaught. What the hell? He had no time to wonder what was going on — he could only concentrate on bringing the sword up, again and again, to keep his enemy's sword from cutting into him.

He was sweating and muscle sore by the time Adam stepped back, and he took the opportunity to catch his breath. Adam, damn him, didn't even look winded.

"Not too bad. You might even manage to survive for a while." Adam studied him thoughtfully. "I'll need to find you a teacher."

Daryl nodded, not yet trusting himself to speak. That had been terrifying. He'd heard his brother's voice, taunting him, calling him 'Darylina' again, because he couldn't defend himself. Damn Merle anyway. Damn Adam, too.

"You boys done playing?"

He turned to see Joe stood watching them, leaning heavily on his cane.

"For now." Adam walked over to where Joe waited, beside their packs. "Are you all right?"

"As all right as I can be."

"You still need to rest."

"I'm fine."

"You nearly fell out of your saddle."

"Not all of us can ride for twelve hours a day. I'm fine." Joe limped heavily over to his chair, and sat.

Adam scoffed, but turned away, muttering under his breath, and stalked over to the horses. "Come along, Daryl. Next part of your training. Calibrating your sense of the buzz."

Daryl blinked. The sword Adam had been trying to kill him with was nowhere to be seen. Where had it gone? He followed Adam to the horses. "What's that supposed ta mean?"

Adam turned around, one hand on a horse's shoulder. "We're going to track a herd of walkers. You need to learn to feel the way the buzz changes with distance and direction. Can you ride?"

Daryl eyed the horses with distaste. They didn't look skittish, at least. "I can ride."

"Good. Get ready to leave." Adam picked up one of the saddles and placed it on the horse.

"Now, wait one damn minute, Me — Adam." Joe sounded confused. "You're taking him to find walkers? You think he's ready for that?"

"We don't have time to take it slow, Joseph. Anything can happen out here."

"Do you think MacLeod would do something like this?"

"He's not here. And I've been teaching younglings longer than MacLeod's been alive."

Joe snorted. "Well that's true."

Adam smirked at Joe, but when he spoke, it was for Daryl. "I told you the walkers have their own version of the buzz. It draws them together — but they sense ours, too. It attracts them. We've discovered that if we get in their range, they'll go after us. That's why we've learned not to group too many of us together. Just enough for protection from other immortals. The more Immortals in one place, the more powerful the buzz — and then the walkers come."

"What do you mean, range?"

Adam cinched the strap around the horse's belly another notch tighter. "You can gauge the how far away another immortal is from you, and where they are, if you know your range. One thing you need to know. A buzz stops when immortals recognize each other. If they don't, it keeps on. If the buzz fades before you recognize the other immortal, they've backed out of range."

Daryl fought not to frown. He hadn't noticed when the buzz had stopped. Had it really been when he'd seen Adam? "It stopped after I saw you. I think."

"When we saw each other," Adam corrected. "And no, we don't know why it works like that. Only that it does."

"Well, that don't sound any more ridiculous than the dead coming back to life." Daryl stopped, replaying what he'd just said in his mind. He snorted to himself. His whole life these days was filled with the dead coming back to life. "Coming all the way back, I mean."

Joe picked up his guitar and strummed it. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Daryl watched as Adam fussed around Joe, making sure the old man had everything he might need and would be comfortable while they were gone. Finally Joe shooed him away, and Adam strode over to where Daryl was waiting with the horses.

"Are you ready?"

Truthfully, he wasn't. He wasn't sure if he could trust Adam, and this hair-brained scheme involved riding. The last time he was on a horse, the damnfool thing threw him into a ravine and bolted. Still, Daryl said the only thing he could at this point. "Yeah."

"You're sure you can ride?"

The doubt stung. "I said I could, didn't I?"

One dark eyebrow raised. "All right. Let's get going."

Daryl scrambled up onto the horse's back, grumbling under his breath. When they were both mounted, Adam turned his horse and led the way out of the clearing.

Adam tossed a casual wave to Joe, who called out, "Have fun storming the castle!"

Daryl didn't bother hiding his laughter as Adam's waving hand turned into a one-finger salute.