"Sorry to wake you chap, but the natives can get worrisome"
Roxton opened one eye and spotted the stranger standing above Challenger, boot poised to kick.
"Tell us what you want and maybe we'll be a bit more forthcoming" Roxton said in a booming voice.
The stranger wheeled around gracefully and noticed the English lord slumped against the wall.
"Why Lord John Roxton, one would assume you'd know everything. Surely Miss Krux could... illuminate you further." the man replied briskly.
Roxton forced a pleasant smile and then retreated his gaze from the stranger onto the unconscious form of Marguerite. She had passed out late into the night, terror and pain usually made a bad combination. He could wait.
Roxton returned his scrutiny to the stranger in their midst. He was tall, probably taller than himself, definitely European, but his voice held a tint of something else. He was almost ashen in appearance, and hair held a golden-reddish hue. He wore entirely all black save for a pale grey holster. His eyes held no malice, only amusement and faint determination. He was the kind of man who'd kill you, then drink tea with your mother.
"Why aren't I chained?" Roxton asked of the stranger.
"Because you will behave so long as Marguerite is preoccupied in bondage. Yes, yes we know all about you two. Dangerous hunter, equally dangerous heiress- quite the combination. But, and this you really should take to heart, you try anything and she's dead. Quite simple, though proven effective, I might say." The man nodded and lifted his teacup in mock salute.
Roxton nodded back slightly, and swallowed the dry lump that formed in his throat. Veronica and Ned should be arriving shortly. They'd have noticed our disappearance by now, and should be making their way anytime soon.
"We learn anything?" the hunter startled somewhat upon hearing the voice next to him.
"Nothing promising. How's the leg, head?"
Oh just peachy. Challenger?"
'Fraid the Old boy's out cold."
Some guys have all the luck." Marguerite said dryly.
The hunter chuckled somewhat at their attempt at banter, it was something they both relied on to keep them grounded.
"I'm going to go check on him, you stay right there."
"Like I have any choice in the matter." the heiress grumbled quietly.
Marguerite watched as the hunter locked eyes with their captor, who in turn nodded slightly, and then crossed the short distance of their cave.
"Challenger?" The –ER of his name being clipped like always so it sounded like an –AR. Really the name sounded more American than it ever could in British. She watched as Roxton delicately lifted the scientists head, and proposed he take a drink from his canteen.
"Where in Blazes are we?"
Cave, George. You got a pretty nasty bump on the head." Roxton said more to the captor than to the injured man.
"I will be alright, John. Nothing to worry about here-"
Staring to sound like Marguerite there old Boy." Roxton said with a chuckle.
And what is wrong with that?" Marguerite countered with a brief smile on her lips.
Absolutely nothing." Roxton said in a returning smile.
"Sorry to break up this little reunion, but there's things to do," and in a quieter voice he added, "People to sell."
The stranger made a short gesture with his hands and the natives quickly paraded Roxton and Challenger, while carrying the injured Marguerite, out of the cave. Marguerite strained her head to see a second pack of natives, uncover and load the strange box out of the earth and secure it in a wooden box. She was almost thrilled to see the thing follow them into the unknown.
--
Oh, Brother. Not again." Marguerite said as she woke to find herself in yet another cave. She'd been here before, brought back her favourite reporter from the dead there in fact. Standing stones and everything.
"You've been here before? Oh, this is perfect. Chance is a spiteful little devil isn't she."
You're so sure she's a she?" Marguerite said while lowering her lashes in a rueful smile.
Ha! I've heard of your talents, my dear. Trust me, they'll not work. Like Eve before you, I trust no woman."
You don't need trust to have a little fun." The heiress said with a sly smirk.
Oh, aren't you the little minx? I was told you were a handful, but really you've outdone yourself."
And to whom do I owe my thanks?"
Good information like that is hard to find. Besides you'll know soon enough." The stranger said while turning away from her place against yet another cave wall.
Marguerite watched him until he retreated from the cave itself.
She then spun her head in the direction of Roxton. He was sitting up purposefully, back prone, and eyes closed.
She knew he'd been listening.
John?" even to her, her voice sounded small.
Right here, Marguerite." Roxton said while opening his eyes briefly to take in her sight. Her clothes were rumpled, bandages misplaced, and he was certain she was upset with herself.
He slid himself over the rough ground until he was at her side.
"I might be losing my edge." The heiress commented quietly.
"Some things change Marguerite, some people even do." He said as he kissed her temple quickly.
Marguerite just nodded dumbly and watched as Roxton readjusted her clothing, and checked her injuries.
God," she breathed out. "How did we get here?"
I wouldn't know Marguerite, I was blindfolded."
She chuckled at his deliberative misunderstanding. He knew that she'd be required to explain in detail, and he might gain some information.
"What of this Baxter fellow?"
Baxter?" the heiress said with a hint of fear in her voice.
The uh... the natives keep calling him Baxter."
Oh. Baxter in their language means, well, something along the lines of tyrant." The heiress replied without looking in the eyes of her hunter.
Yes, I'm sure that's what it means." Roxton replied with a sceptical eye. "You wouldn't be hiding anything now would you, Marguerite?'
Me? Of course not."
Uh Huh." Was the only reply Roxton could stomach. She was hiding something indeed; however he decided not to push it. Injury plagued and relentlessly tired, the explorer wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and surrender to sleep.
--
"What the hell?" Roxton said as his eyes shot open. The room had illuminated so greatly he couldn't see two feet in front of him. The bright white glare shone from the middle of the room. Sometime during his nap, Marguerite had been taken from him and placed upon the middle circle. He'd be damned if he remembered how.
He squinted to see her face amidst the blinding light. No emotion was showing. And in an instant she disappeared from sight.
--
