Author's Note: Long chapter, but I hope you like. Please review! Reviews make me feel good and keep me going!
Chapter 8: Answers
Peter parked the car in a visitors space outside of UCLA and he and Davy quickly climbed out and started making their way toward the building they needed to speak with the expert Peter had mentioned. Peter had called and scheduled the appointment the day before while Micky was sleeping. The professor on the phone had told them that he wasn't sure how much he'd really be able to help them, but was willing to give it a shot. Peter had taken a picture of the ring while Micky was sleeping so they could show the professor what they were dealing with; it was a lot easier than describing it. As they walked, Peter noticed there was really no one around, which didn't surprise him as it was Sunday.
"Do you really think it was a good idea to leave Micky alone like that?" Davy asked as they made their way across the campus.
"Of course not," Peter answered. "But what choice did we really have? Besides, Mike's with him and I trust that."
"But what if Mike can't protect him?" Davy asked.
"I know Mike can," Peter answered not even entertaining the idea of the alternative. "Mike's got good instincts and he's quick on his feet. If anyone can protect Micky, it's Mike."
"How can you be so positive all the time?" Davy asked partly out of anger and partly out of desperation.
"Because if I don't think positively, I'll go crazy," Peter admitted stopping for a second. "Besides that, I have enough faith in all of you to trust that we'll always be able to have each other's backs." Davy didn't say anything; he just smiled and he and Peter continued toward the professor's office. When they arrived, they knocked on the door and waited. After a minute, they knocked again a little harder. The door creaked open slightly and Peter noticed broken glass on the floor. Peter exchanged a worried glance with Davy and pushed the door open the rest of the way.
"Professor?" Davy asked as they slowly poked their heads in. The room was empty, but there definitely looked like there had been some kind of struggle. A lamp was lying shattered in pieces on the floor and the broken glass Peter had seen was from a vase that appeared to have fallen from a bookshelf. Books themselves had fallen to the ground and a chair in the center of the room had been knocked over.
"What do you think happened here?" Peter asked walking in and slowly looking around.
"I don't know, but I think maybe we should call campus security or something," Davy answered. Before Peter could answer, they heard another crashing noise. Somewhat hesitantly, Peter dashed out of the office and toward the sound of the crash with Davy close behind him. He wasn't sure chasing the noise was such a good idea, but if someone was attacking the professor because they had asked him for help, they owed it to him to try and help him.
Together they rushed down the hall and heard more crashing as they passed a closed classroom. They both skidded to a halt sliding on the floor a little and turned around to head for the classroom. Just before they reached it, the man who had been shooting at them the day before, Drake Stone, flew out of the classroom breaking down the door and landing in a crumpled heap against the other wall. Peter almost didn't want to look inside the room, but felt he had to. If someone was fighting off Drake Stone, didn't that then mean they were allies and could help them? Slowly Peter peeked inside and saw two men standing in the classroom looking outside.
One appeared to be their age and was a little taller than Peter but just as skinny with dark somewhat curly hair. He wore a plaid shirt under a red hoodie and jeans. The other man looked very odd in comparison. He was only a little taller and looked middle aged, but he at least didn't look so skinny. He wore a very heavy, and very old looking, dark trench coat, black fingerless gloves and an equally old looking black fedora covering long dark blonde wavy hair. Under the trench coat he wore a dark gray tuxedo vest, dark pinstripe pants and pointy shoes. Peter saw briefly a ring on the man's finger that glowed much like the one Micky had.
"What the...?" Davy muttered as he looked from the now unconscious Drake Stone and the two men in the room who had seemed to have attacked him.
"Hello," the younger man said. "This may seem a little weird to you, huh?"
"A little," Davy admitted.
"Are you ok?" Peter asked. "We heard crashing noises and the professor's office was trashed."
"Yes," the older man said. "The professor, it seems, was attacked by that man. Luckily we were in the neighborhood and were able to make sure he got to campus security safely."
"So he's ok?" Peter asked.
"Yes," the older man answered. "You should run along now. Campus security should be here soon. We'll stay with him."
"Why did he attack the professor?" Davy asked staring at Drake. "And where's the girl?"
"Girl?" the younger man repeated.
"Yeah," Davy answered. "There was a girl with him before."
"You've met him?" the older man asked walking toward them and gesturing at Drake.
"Yesterday," Peter answered. "He tried to kill us. He was trying to get this ring off our friend."
"Peter!" Davy hissed. Peter guessed he hadn't seen this man's ring glowing like Micky's and hadn't therefore realized these people could actually help them.
"His ring glows like yours did," Peter continued as though Davy hadn't interrupted him.
"Your friend wears the alchemists ring?" the older man asked seriously.
"I guess," Peter answered. "That's why we came here looking for the professor. We want to help our friend and we thought the professor could give us some information on it."
"Peter!" Davy hissed again.
"Davy, you really think these guys launched that guy through a solid door just by normal human forces?" Peter demanded. "They can obviously do magic like that ring and if they're fighting the guy who tried to kill us, does that not make them allies?"
"Not necessarily," Davy answered eyeing the pair. "They could be just as psycho and just want the ring for themselves."
"Do we have any other option than to trust them right now?" Peter asked. "I have a good feeling about this."
"Are you sure that isn't just your optimism?" Davy asked.
"Ok, we should get out of here actually before campus security comes," the younger man said quickly.
"I thought you just said you were going to wait here for them," Davy pointed out.
"And explain what to them exactly?" the older man asked and pointed at Davy, Peter and his young friend in turn. "You are right to be wary of strangers. You are right to follow your instincts. And he is right that we we need to leave. And you need to take us to your friend as soon as possible."
"Why?" Peter asked noting the urgency in the man's voice.
"I'll explain on the way," he answered and turned to walk quickly down the hall. His younger friend offered them a smile before following him. Trusting his instinct, he followed the two but Davy hesitated behind him.
"Are we just going to leave him there?" Davy asked the two magicians.
"Campus security can deal with him," the older man answered as they exited the building. "Where is your car?"
"Over in that parking lot," Peter answered.
"As are we," the older man said. "Shall we?"
"You said you'd explain on the way," Davy said catching up to them. "Start explaining."
"Your friend is in a lot of danger if he really is wearing the alchemists ring that Stone was after," the older man answered.
"Well, yeah," Davy scoffed. "We already told you Drake Stone attacked us yesterday."
"That's not what I mean," the man said. "I mean that ring itself will kill him."
"What are you talking about!?" Peter demanded suddenly feeling sick to his stomach.
"It's all very complicated," the man answered as they reached the parking lot. "But I can also guarantee that Stone isn't the only person who's going to come after him. Your friend shouldn't be alone."
"You think someone else is going to attack him?" Peter asked.
"Very possible," the older man said. "Which is why we need to get to him now. You lead the way and we'll follow." Peter watched him walk toward one of the only other cars in the parking lot, a 1935 Rolls-Royce Phantom. Peter and Davy dashed over to their car and climbed inside. They waited a second before the other two men pulled out ready to follow them.
"You really think we can trust them?" Davy asked sounding skeptical as they rushed back home.
"Yes," Peter answered. "I have a good feeling in my gut. And if this guy says that the ring will kill Micky, then what choice do we really have but to trust him?"
"Unless he's lying to get us to take him to Micky," Davy pointed out. "He did say a lot of other people would be after the ring. What if this is a trap?"
"I doubt that he's lying," Peter said. "I told you, Davy, I trust my instinct on this one. I mean, listen to what your heart is saying. Does it tell you we can trust them or to run away?"
"It says we have to do whatever we can to save Micky," Davy admitted.
"Agreed," Peter said. "And these two might have the answer. We have to let them help." Davy just nodded, finally seeming to relent. They rode the rest of the way in silence; Peter's mind was much too busy with fears of what might happen to Micky.
Mike stared at the man sitting in their kitchen with the feeling of unease growing in his stomach. He wasn't exactly sure he could trust this man, but he also wasn't sure what choice they had. This man seemed to have a lot of information about the ring and they needed this information. And if this guy was Merlin's apprentice as he claimed to be, then perhaps they really could trust him. Still, something was nagging at the back of his mind. Something saying this man was a liar; a con-man. Something saying they needed to run from this man.
"So how do I get this ring off?" Micky asked.
"It will come off on its own," Max answered.
"How?" Micky asked. "I've been trying to get it off this whole time!"
"It will come off in due time," Max said. "It just has to finish its job."
"It's job?" Mike asked feeling a little uneasy again. "What job is that?"
"It has to restore itself," Max said. "To its original glory. It's working to get back to its full strength. You can help that along by doing exactly what you're doing; using it."
"Using it saps his strength," Mike said. "Yesterday he used it to create a force field to protect us and ended up passing out for hours. And I'm not just talking about a little nap; we could not wake him up."
"It needs to get its energy from somewhere," Max said. "The ring is borrowing his energy to restore itself."
"Borrowing his energy?" Mike echoed with a worried look at Micky and feeling that sense of unease grow even larger. "Won't that kill him?"
"Not if the ring borrows his energy," Max answered. "He'll get his energy back."
"That is what the definition of borrowing is, yes," said a voice behind Mike. He turned around and saw two strange men walk in the back door with Peter and Davy. "But you would be lying to them about the borrowing thing."
"Balthazar!" Max exclaimed getting up from the table.
"Maxim," the man answered. "Now why on earth are you lying to these boys?"
"What's going on here?" Mike asked.
"The professor was attacked," Peter explained. "By that crazy guy with the gun from yesterday. These guys saved him."
"Don't listen to this man," the older man said firmly. "He's a liar."
"How do we know you're not the liar?" Micky asked.
"That's really not important right now," the man answered. "Where's Abigail, Maxim?"
"What makes you think I know?" Max answered. "I was just trying to help these boys with their little problem. Abigail and I have parted ways."
"Yeah, after you stole her magic and nearly killed her right before kidnapping my girlfriend," the younger of the two men snapped.
"You're friends with them?" Micky demanded of Max.
"He was working with them to kill us and take over the world with zombies," the younger boy answered.
"They weren't zombies, Dave," the older man said.
"That's what you just told us would happen if the wrong hands got a hold of that ring," Micky demanded leveling Max with a stare. "You DID lie to us!"
"Well, this has been pleasant, but I really must go," Max said turning to leave.
"I don't think so, Horvath," the older man in the trench coat said and moved to attack Max. However, Max pulled something from his pocket and threw something at them. Mike felt a small explosion go off in front of him that sent him flying backwards a little and landed on the ground. He heard the startled gasps of his friends as they were sent flying with him. Mike grumbled a little and pushed himself up before looking around at his friends. Micky lay next to him trying to push himself up, too. Max was nowhere to be seen.
"What just happened?" the younger man said extricating himself from his entanglement with Peter and Davy on the floor. "How did he do that, Balthazar? I thought I zapped his magic!"
"You did," the older man answered. "But there are ways of using a few spells here and there with the right tools."
"Ok, answers, now," Mike demanded of the two newcomers while helping Micky up. "He said the ring was going to borrow Micky's energy and you said he was lying. He said his name was Max and you called him Maxim. Did he even lie about his name?"
"Well, to be fair, Max is short for Maxim," Micky pointed out.
"Not the point," Mike said.
"Your friend is right," the older man said. "His name is Maxim Horvath. He's always been called Maxim."
"He probably shortened it to try and gain their trust," the younger one said. "Max sounds friendlier."
"He said he was Merlin's apprentice," Micky said.
"He was," the older man answered. "A very, very long time ago."
"Maybe you should start from the beginning," Mike said.
"About a hundred years ago Merlin had three apprentices," the older man answered. "Me, Maxim Horvath and a third woman."
"Veronica," the younger said with a smile.
"Yes, but that's not the point," the older man said. "Horvath allied himself with Morgana, Merlin's arch-enemy and betrayed him. Merlin then cast a spell on us to keep us from aging until we found his heir."
"Me," the younger smiled.
"Dave," the older man said looking at him rather paternally. "Don't interrupt."
"Right," Dave said. "Continue."
"A year ago, Dave and I worked together to stop Horvath and Morgana from ending the world," the man continued. "And Dave was able to strip him of his magic and kill Morgana. Now Horvath wants his magic back so he can finish what Morgana started."
"And he wants to use this ring to do that?" Micky asked staring at the ring.
"Precisely," the older man said.
"You said the ring is going to kill Micky," Davy said.
"What!?" Mike exclaimed a knot forming in his stomach.
"Yes," the older man answered glumly. "Unless we can figure a way to get the ring off him before it does. Horvath said the ring was going to borrow his energy. It's not. It's stealing it. Once the ring has enough energy to return itself to full power, anyone can tap into its energy."
"So that's why he didn't kill you," Mike said. "He needs the ring to steal your energy so he can use it without it killing him."
"What about the other two?" Davy asked. "Drake and the little girl? Where do they fit in?"
"Drake Stone is a stage magician who used his magic to get famous," the older man answered. "He worked with Horvath to help Morgana, but Horvath turned on him stealing his energy to free Abigail Williams. She was trying to help Morgana in Salem about 300 years ago but I was able to trap her inside a doll. Horvath freed her from the doll to get her to help him and then turned on her stealing her energy as well. They want the ring for the same reasons as Horvath."
"But they tried to kill us," Micky said. "Why would they try to kill me when I need to live long enough to restore the ring?"
"They may not know about the ring stealing your energy," the man answered. "Or they may just be planning on using another innocent person."
"But only one of them can use the ring, right?" the younger man asked the elder.
"Do you really peg Drake as being anything other than a follower, Dave?" the older man said. "Abigail is pulling the strings."
"But she's just a kid," Davy said.
"She's a lot smarter than she looks," the older man said.
"Salem?" Peter asked. "There was an Abigail Williams in Salem during the witch trials, but she was one of the victims."
"Clever little ploy, don't you think?" the older man answered. "Get caught doing magic with your friends and blame it on your African nanny Tituba and then sit back and laugh as the town falls into a mass hysteria blaming everyone they can."
"Whoa," Micky breathed. "That changes history a lot."
"How do we get this ring off?" Mike asked changing the subject back to the matter at hand.
"I don't know," the older man answered. "I only heard about what Drake and Abigail were trying to do through rumors and tracked them down. We didn't track them down until today at the college where Drake attacked the teacher."
"So you can't help us?" Mike sighed in frustration.
"I didn't say that," the older man said. "I just said I don't know right now. But we can easily do more research and find out how to get the ring off easier than you can. What I can tell you is we will do everything we can to help your friend. But you are targets now. Horvath, Drake and Abigail will do anything to get that ring. Is there somewhere you can hide where they won't find you?"
"We don't even know how they found us in the first place," Mike said. "We didn't tell anyone about the ring. Micky put it on at a museum and it wouldn't come off. It's technically stolen."
"They probably were able to sense it's energy waves as he used the ring," the man answered.
"You never told us your names," Peter said.
"Balthazar Blake," the older man said. "And this is my apprentice, David Stutler."
"Mike Nesmith, Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones and Peter Tork," Mike introduced. "And I promise you if you do anything to hurt us, I will personally see to it that you regret it. I'm tired of being jerked around."
"So noted," Dave answered. "But we are here to help. We plan on destroying the ring once we get it off."
"Guys," Micky said suddenly looking a little green and dizzy; like he was going to fall over. Mike rushed to catch Micky before he fell. "I don't feel so good."
"Micky, you ok?" Mike asked.
"Bathroom," Micky croaked. "Sick. Toilet." Mike carefully limped with Micky to the bathroom trying desperately to ignore the knot growing in his stomach.
