Epilogue #2
Marguerite lay sitting up in bed, unseeing eyes gazing out at the trees, their rain-soaked leaves dazzling in the sunlight. The Spartan room and coarse furnishings neither appealed nor displeased her; she felt nothing. Distant rumblings provided reminders of the previous day's events.
A gentle knock on the door, softly repeated, went unanswered. The door eased open to reveal the tousled head of Challenger "Marguerite?"
Closing the door behind him he walked over to the bed.
"Marguerite, I know you can hear me. I want to help you but in order to do that I need you to talk to me."
His words rang hollow in Marguerite's mind.
"All right," Challenger pulled up a chair, "Perhaps it will help if I tell you what's happened."
Leaning forward he paused to find the words, "The concentrated lightening strikes appear to have completely destroyed the fortress, and you'll be happy to know that the rest of the others who Marag.... affected, are all alive and returned to their families." He felt it prudent not to mention that fully half remained in a blank vegetative state, much like Marguerite, while the others were looking to make a complete recovery. Thankfully that included Kern, Nebo's grandson.
"It's fascinating, really, what happened. It appears likely that somehow Marag caused each mind to be connected to hers, acting like part of an electric circuit in series, increasing power with each addition which...."
Dimly Marguerite heard Challenger talking but it was as a muted hum, blending and echoing to only faintly whisper in a most distant corner of her psyche. Her last shreds of self crouched there, in chaos, screaming and screaming at the ripping away of all those things most precious to her. She could still sense the faint eddying current of Marag's malevolence like a serpent, twisting, burrowing and piercing, seeking residence in what was left of her thoughts. Time without end, an end without time. No way out, no way out....
A faint zephyr of wind brushed the tendrils of her hair, causing her to slowly blink.
"... anyway," Challenger faltered slightly, but tried to sound cheerful "there is every reason to believe that you will make a complete recovery:" Peering closely, he was rewarded with not the slightest hint of recognition. Awkwardly patting her hand he stood and left the room.
Marguerite's hand curled slightly at the touch.
************
Quietly closing the bedroom door behind him Challenger entered the room where Roxton was cleaning the guns.
"How is she?"
"No change. I think that she'll be fine with rest, but it would be best if we got back to the tree-house as soon as possible."
"Is she all right to travel?"
"Physically, yes, but there is much which we don't know about the mind and she's..." Challenger paused, not wanting to impart his worst fears, "...it may speed her recovery to be within familiar surroundings."
Unconvinced, Roxton looked at him, "Well, we're just about ready. If you want to speak to Nebo, he's outside with Veronica and Malone. I'll keep an eye on Marguerite."
Challenger nodded thoughtfully and went off in search of their host.
Having cleaned the last bit of grit from the bolt of the rifle, Roxton meticulously put it aside, and went into the next room. Taking Challenger's recently vacated seat, Roxton silently took hold of Marguerite's hand and prepared to wait for as long as it took.
Marguerite could sense a change. Her prison seemed less formidable, maybe there was a way out. Grasping together all that remained of her she fought, pushing back with all her might at the chaos, struggling with the serpent to put it where it could do her no harm.
Her hand seemed so small and frail, it didn't seem quite right for the feisty woman which he knew. No longer able to stand the silence Roxton started to talk.
" Challenger's probably already told you, but I just thought you should know, everyone's fine. They're outside talking to Nebo and his grandson. Ned's being treated as quite the hero. It was his idea to go in disguised as guards taking in prisoners. Must admit, it worked like a charm, they were led right to me," he laughed ruefully recalling his own surprise when he realized what had happened. "Happiest day in my life when I saw them and they got me out…and one of the worst" he paused, recalling the moment as he saw her essence leave her face. "We made it to the room, I saw you there, but was too slow, didn't get to you quick enough, should have started sooner…" unable to continue he tightly clasped her hand between his own and wished with all his might that he could have gotten there in time. He would have died for her if he could.
The beast was strong, but if she could shut it away, if she could only shut it away, her escape was near....
A vibrant cascade of birdsong swept through the room distracting Roxton and its joyous notes couldn't help but remind him of Beethoven. Looking back toward Marguerite he was surprised to see a tear sliding slowly down her cheek.
"Marguerite?" hope quickly turned to delight as he felt her hand move and she drew a deep shuddering breath.
"John, is that really you?" Marguerite looked towards him as if just awakening from a deep nightmare.
Nodding, Roxton drew her into his arms as she began to sob uncontrollably.
"Don't go away, please don't ever go away."
Drawing her close Roxton whispered through the dark veil of her hair "I never will. I'll always be here for you."
And they all lived happily ever after.
The End (again)
