A/N - Well...Hi!
If you've been waiting for an update to this story because it's been nearly three months, thank you for your patience. We all write about how life has gotten in the way of our writing and that's true. I personally can't devote as much time to this hobby as I do, say, my job even if I wish I could. But, that's not the only reason behind my glacially slow posting of this chapter. It's because I wanted to finish the story. I wanted to make sure that all (or most, because I'm not perfect) of the intricacies of this universe made sense. I've been back and forth over the remaining 18,000+ words many times to make sure I haven't contradicted or left a detail hanging without explanation. I think I've done it. I probably haven't, but it's close.
I'll post another chapter each day this week. In the meantime, please enjoy. (I'll be going over the remaining chapters, yet again.
Thanks again for reading and for your patience. This has been an interesting journey and I have an all new respect for those who write fantasy. I'd love to hear your thoughts on my little version of reality.
~GeekMom
The Possibility of Magic
Chapter 9
Alakazam, Jackass
"This must lead to the surface somehow," Ryan stated as he vigorously rubbed his hands up and down his arms.
"How could you possibly know that? Did your old buddy Derrick's tunnel turn up a way out?" Espo scoffed.
"It did," Kevin asserted petulantly. "But that's not the reason. The air temperature in here is too cold not to have direct access to the surface."
"It's freezing outside, Dude: of course it's going to be cold in here."
"Actually caves keep a remarkably consistent temperature regardless of the conditions on the surface." He patted the rough rock surface of the walls like he was patting a beloved horse. "It's generally around the average temperature of the area," Ryan explained, turning back to them. "In this cavern, that should be around fifty-five degrees."
Esposito pursed his lips. "Thank you Mr. Wizard or maybe," he chuckled, "you're a Al Roker wanna be. So, your theory is that this leads to the surface?" Kate bit her lip.
"I'm just saying that it's a possibility…and that we may have an alternate exit."
Beckett, amused by her partners' never-ending ersatz-arguments, stayed out of it and quiet, and peered into the darkness before them. Her flashlight beam bounced off the stalagmites and stalactites populating the ceiling and floor of the tunnel, so crowded in some places it made passage difficult. She shivered again as her imagination made the rocks coalesce to form some monster's giant maw stretched open before her, displaying pointed teeth all around. She could even see the beast's uvula in the distance. Kate shook the fanciful image out of her head and pursed her lips. That was Castle's fault. She never used to imagine teeth-baring, giant monsters or their throats at crime scenes.
The thought made her lips quirk into a slight smile and could just hear the echo of their ongoing disagreement about the supernatural over lunch at Remy's a few weeks past:
He slurped a third of his chocolate shake and then pinched his nose, his shoulders quaking because of the inevitable, but preventable brain freeze. He quirked a grin mischievously and exclaimed, 'you'd think I'd learn.' Kate sucked in her bottom lip and shook her head, suppressing a snigger and an urge to nod her head vigorously because of her partner's juvenile antics and quietly sipped her hot chocolate before offering the soothing warmth to her partner. She loved Remy's shakes as much as her partner did, but the below freezing temperatures and snowstorm outside made her choose the warm beverage. It was logical.
She held out her mug to him, but he shook his head once.
'No thanks.' One more rub on the bridge of his nose between his index fingers, a quick exclamation of 'Whoa,' and then he narrowed his eyes like a laser focusing on his target. "Back to my point, I'm just saying that you should be open to the possibilities around you.'
'I'm open to possibilities, Castle, but I've seen too many supernatural happenings explained and justified not to believe that there is always a logical and reasonable explanation for everything.'
'Absolutely," he agreed. Everything does have a reasonable and logical explanation, but how can you know that we know what we actually think we know, or for that matter that we know everything,' he slyly grinned as he licked the remnants of chocolate from his lips.
'When I figure out what the hell you just said, I'll let you know." She ghosted a grin around one of the fries she pilfered from his plate and lifted another pointing it at him. 'Why is this so important to you? Why do I have to believe in fantastic possibilities when there are already so many unbelievable things that actually happen every day?' He frowned and she went on to explain. 'You know genius; the things that you and I see every day; the things that people do to each other, that have me questioning the world as it is. It's enough to believe that people can do any possible number of heinous things to others.'
'That's exactly why you should be open to the other possibilities,' he said, almost sadly. 'I don't want you to miss any wonderful, unanticipated or amazing things about this world. I don't want you to believe that there is only the dark side.'
'Do they have cookies, Anakin?' Proud of herself, she snagged another fry, dragging it through the ketchup before placing it between her lips and sucking the red condiment off. She lifted her eyes when he didn't respond to find him staring at her, completely mesmerized, his mouth hanging open, she only broke the spell when she stuck her tongue out at him.
Castle inhaled and blinked, the haze clearing from his eyes, before he leaned forward and whispered, 'How will you ever see fairies if you've already decided that they don't exist?' When she rolled his eyes, he amended, 'Hmm, too much? Too much au du Grimm?' That earned him another eye roll and a huff. He nodded. 'Okay, I can see that fairies may be too far out there for you,' he conceded. Narrowing his eyes, he put forth, 'How about — how will you ever recognize all the magic,' in response to her unimpressed and nearly bored expression, punctuated by her folded arms over her chest, he explained, 'not Neil Patrick Harris magician kind of magic; that magic's not real. No, I'm talking about the magic in the beauty, romance and…the…um,' he dropped his eyes to the now shared basket of fries between them before finishing, 'the love all around, how will you see it if you're only looking for…only open to practical explanations for it all?' She pursed her lips in response. 'Look, I just want you to be able to see the writing on the wall if you need to. Promise you'll try?'
'I'll consider it, Castle,' she agreed and by the look on his face you would have thought she'd promised him the moon.
Kate inhaled the mineral laden air deeply, shaking the memory from her head. He was so earnest, but not to get her to see it his way, well not only that: he didn't want her to miss the wonder. She wished she could just be free and let her mind accept all the possibilities he saw: all the magic that came so easily to him.
Drawing in a breath, he felt as if his lungs had not functioned for years. He consciously made them expand and deflate. He took another breath in through his nose and abruptly raised his head to look around the cavern. Cherries. He smelled cherries.
"Dad?" His daughter sat curled up into herself, a panicked look in her eyes.
"It's…"
"You were talking and then you smiled at me, you scowled and then your face kind of went slack like you fainted, but you were still sitting. You… you wouldn't answer." She breathed shallowly between outbursts. "It was how you are when you're writing, only not. We're here and no…um…no computer…and …um…"
"Alexis, shh, sweetheart, I'm okay. It was just…" he hesitated, not wanting to upset her further, and then he looked around, reminded himself where and why they were there. They were in the middle of the source, surrounded by other Aggregate and their family members. Anything he said about his gifts couldn't possibly freak her out any more than the direction she was headed. He inhaled. "Alexis," he said firmly. He needed her to listen, not to be swallowed in the rising tide of her panic. "I know you don't like to hear about it, but it's our reality right now. I was…um," he sighed. "I was speaking to Montgomery." Her eyes grew large. "I gave him intel about our situation, he is sending help."
"But…why…how?"
He spoke quickly and kept his tone and volume low, hoping Alexis would use the same control. "I'm here because of my abilities; you're here to make sure I do what they want. I promise you, that I won't let anything happen to…"
"Who, Dad? Who is it and what do they want?"
He looked helplessly at her. His mind had been working on that particular problem since before they left Manhattan. Exhaling, he blinked and surveyed the cavern again. Nothing had changed in the last hundred times he looked. "I wish I knew…"
As if answering her question, cold permeated the cavern as if the air conditioning had been switched on and a voice intoned, "Little Ricky Rodgers." For the second time in just a few moments, Castle's face went slack.
The tunnel seemed to go on for miles, some passages easily traversed, other were so narrow they had to squeeze through. Castle was bigger than any one of the three of them. He must have had a hard time navigating through them as well. She swept her flashlight over the stones and formations and froze. "Ryan? Haven't we seen this pitchfork kind of stalactite before?"
"Don't tell me we've been going around in circles," Espo added a few selected curses in Spanish.
"There haven't really been any clear intersections. How could we be retracing our steps if we're not turning left or right?" She swung her flashlight from one wall to the opposite.
"Maybe it's a giant circle," Ryan offered. He heard Beckett's huff more than he saw it. "Maybe we just missed a turn."
Kate sighed. Ryan was almost as much as an optimist as Castle was. She just wanted to find Castle and Alexis, find the sheriff, solve the murder and disappearances, and go back to the hotel where the only exploring she wanted to do had to do with Castle's mouth.
There was a scale-model castle, complete with towers and spires formed of stalagmites. On one of the spires was a small rectangular piece of blue material, as if the lord of the manor had displayed his banner.
"Hey, you guys: look at this." Kate pointed her flashlight on the fabric.
"That looks like Castle's shirt," Ryan supplied. "Like a little flag. Hey: a flag on the Castle castle."
Esposito looked at Beckett and raised an eyebrow. "Looks like Castle left us another breadcrumb."
"Yeah, let's hope that we beat the birds to the next one," she muttered.
"Or the bats," Ryan added helpfully, earning a glare from Esposito who nervously rubbed his hand over his hair while ducking his head away from imaginary flying creatures.
Beckett stopped short causing both her partners to bowl into her back.
"Shit, Beckett. What?" Esposito let out a low whistle. "Shit," he commented.
Lying on the floor was the sheriff, along with a young woman they didn't recognize. Sheriff Heat was still dressed in his uniform as he was at the hotel, but the woman wore a dark blue robe, cinched at the waist by a braided belt. Ryan squatted next to the sheriff and felt his neck. Esposito copied his partner's actions near the woman. Ryan raised his eyes to Beckett's and shook his head. Espo did the same. Both dead.
Esposito searched the woman's body for ID and shook his head a second time.
"Castle," Ryan whispered, peering into the darkness.
"What?"
"You think Castle did this?" Javi rejected loudly with his tone and posture.
"What? No! No, I just…if he left with Sheriff Heat and now the guy is dead…just…where's Castle?""
"We're going to find him, Ryan, and he's going to be okay," Kate asserted.
The unfortunate sheriff and his unidentified companion would have to wait. They didn't have any communication with the outside world and didn't know who they'd be able to trust if they did, outside of the captain who was six hours away. Their priority became Castle and Alexis after they spoke to Montgomery. Kate had the feeling that all of it, the disappearances, murders and whatever Castle's part was in all of this were all connected: interwoven and if she pulled the wrong thread at the wrong time, it might all unravel with her partner and his daughter right in the middle of the whole web. The trio left the grim reminders that they were still entrenched in the middle of a murderous battlefield behind them and continued into the dark.
Roy Montgomery made his way to the homicide floor's break room. He was never a champion coffee drinker like Beckett or even came close to understanding the nuances of the brew like Castle did, but he felt drained and wanted a cup. Telepathy followed by communing with the universe would do that to a guy, especially if the guy wasn't used to it.
He was still worried about what Castle had told him but felt confident that his concerns were…heard? Or…maybe read? Perhaps just felt. However the communication with the universe happened he wasn't sure that his people would receive help. He hoped or at least convinced himself to hope.
"Damn it!" It wasn't enough. The captain stared down into the light tan concoction that he would swear was flowing through Beckett's veins and made up his mind. He gulped the rest of the cup, placed it in the sink and headed back to his office. Grabbing his coat, keys and service weapon, he moved toward the elevator and the parking garage. After letting the duty officer know he was leaving, he headed to Saranac.
"I know that voice," he muttered while looking all around the cavern.
"Dad?"
"Shh, shh," he hissed and narrowed his eyes while tilting his head.
"I understand that you've been practicing, Mr. Castle," the voice patronized. "That you've done something none of these other laggards can even imagine. While they use their gifts for the mundane and obvious and then celebrate their uniqueness—privately, of course, you and I have been honing our skills. Bigger fish to fry, huh?" he asked, his tone dripping with contempt but also admiration.
Castle frowned. "I don't…I don't know what you're talking about. Who is speaking, anyway?" He twisted his fettered body, trying to get a fix on the echoing voice. It seemed to come from all surfaces and crevices of the cavern.
"You just saved the city from a nasty bomb…" Alexis' eyes became bigger and rounder in shock. She knew there was a crisis, but she hadn't known about the bomb. The voice continued, "Because you were able to organize the rabble and rouse them to your cause. A bigger cause, one greater than self…because," the voice continued, but sounded irritated and acerbic, "we all know anything for personal gain is against the rules…right?"
"The rules are there for a reason, a safety net; a buffer. How did you get around…"
"The rules don't matter if you don't want them to."
Castle couldn't help but think that he sounded like one of the many privileged boarding school classmates that thought they were above the rules. The rules, he was made to understand, were made for scholarship kids, like him. 'My youth was very Orwellian,' he supposed sullenly.
The voice explained, "The altruistic rules only apply if you're weak: if you don't know how to organize the Aggregate to a greater cause…like you do. You and I, we both know how: we could rule this puny planet. We just need the other members to band together in support of a greater vision. The Aggregate is like Supermen compared to the ungifted Lois Lanes of the world. Think of all we could accomplish when we all work together united under our rule. The Aggregate will willingly fall over themselves just to be a part of the new order."
"Willingly? Like these people you've imprisoned here?" He knocked his chains against the granite floor for emphasis. "You sound more like General Zod."
"So be it," the voice conceded, disinterestedly. "I'm prepared to do what is necessary. Are you going to use your extraordinary gifts for making coffee the rest of your life or will you become my lieutenant as I remake the world?"
"If I refuse?"
The chamber echoed with a maniacal laugh and Castle wondered, not for the first time, why every villain felt it was necessary to laugh. It seemed to be requisite: evil equaled a protracted, self-serving, raving lunatic laugh. Was there an internet class to perfect your laugh? A society of evildoers perhaps? He speculated that if you didn't have an evil enough laugh, you did not get your certificate or diploma. The evil laugh trope had really been overdone.
His uneasy musings were brought to an abrupt halt by his daughter's cry. "Daddy? What…" Alexis was lifted into the air and was hung upside down, tethered to the rock floor by the chain around her wrist as if an unseen hand held her aloft by her ankle and slowly rotated her as if she were some perverse balloon caught on an summer's evening updraft.
"Baby, it's okay. Shh, I'm right here. Put her down," he demanded. Setting his jaw, he focused his thoughts on releasing her. The cackling increased in volume and intensity even as his daughter was caught in the middle of an invisible tug of war.
"Daddy?"
"It will be okay, Pumpkin. Look at me Alexis. Concentrate on my eyes. Only hear my voice."
She did as she was told and soon she couldn't see or hear anything save her father's loving eyes and soft, reassuring murmurs. A peace came over her and she felt free as if she were floating, unencumbered. She was no longer looking into her Dad's eyes, but flying. It was beautiful: wide-open spaces, green meadows and mountainsides, a crisp blue sky and warmth, like the sun was beating down on her as on a summer day. The scenery was familiar, but not; almost if she had been transported into a storybook her father used to read to her. Suddenly, she realized someone held her hand. She looked down and recognized her father's hand. She looked up into his face. He smiled reassuringly at her.
"Alexis, he can't hear us here."
"Where, Daddy? Where are we?" Her voice sounded like it had regressed several years, back when she still had him check for and then unquestionably believed that he had vanquished the monsters under her bed. He wondered if he heard her younger self because of how she felt; afraid or small or if it was the way he always heard her in his head.
"We're still in the cave, Baby, still restrained, but," he sighed, "For lack of a better explanation, this is my mind."
"Your mind?"
"Yeah, kind of freaky, huh?"
She looked around her again and raised a devilish eyebrow, the one she'd inherited and learned to perfect from him. "It's a lot quieter than I would have guessed."
He allowed himself a mirroring indulgent rise of his eyebrow and a self-deprecating grin in agreement. "Yeah, me too," he chuckled. "Even so, this doesn't last long and takes a great deal of effort, so Sweetheart, when we go back," he paused to breathe; it was already becoming more difficult. The telepathy didn't come easily with another Aggregate member let alone when it was a one-sided effort. He wasn't even sure it would work; he'd never tried it before. "When we go back, I need you to be as calm as you are now. I'm going to figure out a way to escape, but I need you to be calm. I'm not sure but I think he's using the panic and fear of the hostages in the room to his advantage. That's the way it feels. Can you do that for me, Pumpkin?"
Alexis swallowed and locked her eyes on his. "Yes Daddy," she said. Uncertainty and fear briefly resurfaced as he let her hand go. She felt as if she was falling, but she kept staring at her father and kept drinking in the calm on his face and deep within his eyes, letting his strength suspend her, letting herself trust him not to let her go just as she did when he taught her to swim.
"It's okay," he reassured her from what sounded like a distance. "That's my…"
"Girl!" Rick grunted and crumpled to the rock.
Alexis found herself back in the cavern, but sitting on the floor. Her wide, still panic-stricken eyes surveyed the cavern beginning with her semi-conscious father and continuing around to the others held and resting finally on the group of robed people. She shivered and then remembered; slowing her breathing, focusing on what her father asked her to do.
Not all gifted could communicate telepathically – not clearly anyway, sometimes it was just a feeling. Castle concentrated on calming Alexis and the other twenty-six captives; a feat that took most of his already diminished energy, but he spared a little to leave a note for Beckett and the boys. He hoped they had followed his breadcrumbs. He kept his eyes closed, concentrated on his message and projected calm and soothing thoughts. Until he was no longer allowed.
"Mr. Castle," the man whispered darkly. Castle continued to play possum right up until a robe-clad goon kicked him in the lower back. He thought that if they were there for a spa day, then they should be more relaxed, more mellow.
Castle opened his eyes slowly, continuing his ruse. "I know you," he said to the face hovering over his.
"We've met…yes." The man nodded, assessing Castle openly.
Castle cracked his neck before moving. "You're Stryker…um," he snapped his fingers. "Benny Stryker, um aliens, abductions: you wrote that book." Castle stared at the man as he sat up. "The Marie Subbarao case."
Stryker smiled—not pleasantly. "Excellent memory Mr. Castle, but you and I both know that aliens don't exist. I recognized you immediately three months ago, well not you personally—I don't read your kind of drivel. You have an aura. I recognized that. You're gifted…an Aggregate."
Rick narrowed his eyes. "My aura?" He had heard that some people could read others and while he could feel another Aggregate, he couldn't see an aura.
"Yes," Stryker continued, "Yours is blue: it matches your eyes. Now, as I was saying, you and I know that most extraterrestrial events," (he mimicked air quotes around extraterrestrial), "are just perpetrated by a superior humans like you and I," he proclaimed haughtily and then slyly smiled. "It is a great way to make money from the masses, though."
"Feeding on the fear and uncertainty of the masses, you mean. Don't include me in your," he also made air quotes as he said, "group," Castle spat angrily as he stood as upright as he could. He needed to have some semblance of equal footing with the implicit lunatic before him.
"Look around you, Mr. Castle: you, your daughter and everyone else here are already a part of my group," he snarled. "A new and improved Aggregate, if you will. One outside of the archaic and obtuse rules we've had to endure our entire lives."
"What is it that you want, Stryker?"
"Want? I thought I was clear before. Are you really as smart as everyone thinks you are? As these poor fools think you are?" He spread his arm indicating the other hostages. "They hope that you're going to save them." He shook his head and waved his index finger back and forth. "Ah, ah, ah: sorry, just one save per week, I think." He winked and smiled at Castle. "Maybe that will be in the new rules, too. Let you feed that hero complex of yours."
"I don't have a hero complex, I only want to help," he answered quietly. "I don't understand why you need us: all of us," he indicated the two dozen, plus people. "Why here and why now?" Castle probed.
He did understand. He understood that it was the end of February. Which, as we reckoned it, was as important to the Aggregate and Saranac Lake as Memorial Day was to Manhattan, or more precisely Manhattan-henge. Twice a year, the setting Sun aligns perfectly with the Manhattan street grid, concurrently illuminating both the north and south sides of every cross street of the borough's grid: a beautiful sight, one that he and Alexis observed many times dressed in their 'I heart New York' tee shirts and celebrated with the city's finest in tubular cuisine. Those two days happen every year close to Memorial Day and Baseball's All Star break around the middle of July.
At the end of February, Saranac had its own version of a cosmic event although it didn't involve the sun or hot dogs, as far as he knew. An amazing astronomical event: an alignment of heavenly bodies. Castle shook his head imperceptibly. A distracting image of Kate Beckett entered his mind: the cause was easy to discern; two trigger words: heavenly and body.
The celestial event concentrated a great deal of energy over the region, causing harmony from the normal Aggregate discord and white noise prevalent in the area. Although it was a calming, serene event, it was also powerful and dangerous: most Aggregate shied away from the phenomenon in fear and ignorance.
"Come, come, Mr. Castle; of course you do," Stryker sneered. "You know that it is the end of February. Surely you must know the significance of the month."
Unexpectedly, the seriousness and gravity of the situation tilted on its end as if the coming planetary alignment made him and the whole cavern weightless and the situation's bad, B-movie ludicrousness snuck into its place, thus Castle, having found confidence in his humor, denied, "I really don't…and don't call me Shirley," he threw on the end a la Leslie Neilson, unable to stop himself.
'For an older man, Benny Stryker is remarkably spry,' Castle thought as he picked himself up off the floor, gingerly rubbing his jaw. He glared at Stryker, swallowing blood from the cut on the inside of his cheek.
Alexis started to speak, but Castle held his palm up. He looked at his daughter and apparently conveyed that he was all right and that she should be quiet.
Castle stood; he needed to face this madman on even footing. He regarded Stryker who was whispering to a robed man. "So what's your end game, Stryker?"
Stryker turned back to Castle, having dismissed the help. "I thought it was obvious."
"A new world order," Castle spat, "the gifted lording over the non-gifted."
Stryker shook his head, sighed then chuckled disdainfully and, rapidly coming close to Castle's face, his cold gray eyes stared right into Castle's as he whispered, "Don't you see?" He spoke to Castle as if he were speaking to a child. "If we're allowed the freedom to be who we are, not only can we accomplish great things and get the respect we deserve, but we can help those beneath us."
"Help those…um beneath huh," Castle scoffed as he glanced pointedly around the cavern. He made eye contact with a woman in her fifties. She wore a face heavy with exhaustion and fear, but he could see the telltale signs of life-long joy and humor around her eyes. Castle assumed that the hostage nearest to her, a man who looked to be about the same age, was her husband. Like he and Alexis, they had stretched their hands toward each other, fingertips barely making contact, nevertheless, the contact was important; it was everything. He thought of Beckett and how someday, given what they did and their track records, they might have to risk everything just to touch. He thanked the universe that that was at least possible now. Castle glanced at his own connection with his child: she was keeping him grounded. He smiled gently at the woman and hoped it reassured her. She wanly returned the smile and nodded her encouragement.
Pausing his observation several more times, he made similar visual connections with other Aggregate and hostages, some gifted he heard telepathically, but most, he did not, ending finally on the still-frightened eyes of his own daughter. She was putting up a good front; he could see the bravery and trust in her posture and attitude. It reminded him of when she came to terms with trusting him to teach her to swim. She was determined, not so much to learn to swim as she was determined to trust him fully. Her heart swelled: at no time in her life did he wish she had inherited at least some of his gifts as he did in that moment. If she had been gifted telepathy, he could continually reassure her, but as it was, the sound of his voice would have to do. "It's okay, Pumpkin. It will be okay, I promise."
"I'm so happy to hear that, because with your cooperation, more people will follow and finally we will be free of the chains of oppression."
'This guy is unbelievable,' Castle thought. 'Cheesy, melodramatic and unbelievably dangerous topped with a god-complex and paranoia on the side.'
