Part 27 ^_^
Stefan looked up into the rain, past Kurti to the shadowy figure only
he could see. He was transfixed by that figure.
It was, after all, kind of hard to ignore a seven-foot-tall skeleton.
HALLO, said Death.
"Come *on*," Kurti urged. "Grab *hold*! You're slipping..."
"So you came for me, eh?" said Stefan. "You were always coming for me."
WELL, Death admitted, YOU *WERE* BEING POISONED SINCE YOU WERE FIVE.
YOU COULD SAY I WAS OBSERVING _IN POTENTIA_.
Poison? Even in his addled state, something was wrong with that.
Demons didn't bother with poison... That was usually something that
another type employed. Which type? He couldn't remember.
"*Stefan*..." Kurti urged. "Grab *hold* of something!" That infernal
tail wrapped and re-wrapped around Stefan's neck. Almost as if the demon
didn't want it there.
But didn't the demon want him dead?
FOR EXAMPLE, said Death. POTENTIALLY, THERE COULD BE TWO DEAD, TODAY.
OR ONE. IT ALL DEPENDS ON WHETHER YOUR FRIEND KEEPS HIS GRIP. One
skeletal finger indicated the root Kurti held.
Stefan had a flash of a future. He trusted his friend and grabbed
on... and the abrupt movement made the dry wood snap. _I'm destined to
die,_ he thought.
I NEVER SAID THAT, said Death.
He still had the knife. And someone wanted him dead. Why not the
demon? "Don't be so tentative, demon," he said. He knew what he was
doing, now. He knew where he was going. It was peaceful. One hand
reached up and tightened Kurti's tail around his neck. "You snug it
tight, like this." He demonstrated, making sure his new garotte was
taut. "And then you let go. Like --" the knife flashed and cut Kurti
across his legs, "--*this*!"
A moment of gravity. His hand tightened on Kurt's tail, and he was
amazed at how much it could twitch and struggle in that moment.
{KRAK!}
An unearthly howl almost drowned out the noise of his own death.
Stefan lost feeling in his arms. Watched Kurt dwindle into a little
speck as he fell.
{THUD!}
Stefan got up, a little disoriented, then he looked down. There's
nothing like staring at your own remains to wake you up to the truth.
"He wasn't trying to kill me at all. He never *was* a demon," he said.
YES, said Death. AND YOU COMMITED SUICIDE.
A number of futures came to him, then. Alternate worlds. In one of
them, Stefan, though mad, was careful, and Kurti piggybacked him up to
safety. And Jimaine was there, watching. Making up a lie about Mama's
knife.
"Jimaine," he murmured, watching his sister rescue his 'brother'. "It
was always Jimaine, wasn't it?"
YES. Death cleaned his traditional blade. YOUR SISTER HAS ALWAYS
WANTED POWER.
"If something doesn't happen," said Stefan, "it's going to kill them
both."
Death nodded.
Something occurred to him. "Aren't you going to guide me to the other
side or something?"
NO, STEFAN, said Death. YOU'RE A SUICIDE, NOT A MURDER. YOU HAVE TO
LIVE THE REST OF YOUR NATURAL SPAN AS AN EARTHBOUND SPIRIT. A skeletal
hand patted his shoulder. BUT IT *IS* UP TO YOU HOW YOU SPEND THAT TIME.
In the land of the living, Kurt carefully placed a noose around the
corpse's broken neck. He was weeping an appologising.
"He's mourning me," Stefan wondered. "He loves me and he's mourning me
and I just tried to *kill* him..."
PEOPLE ARE LIKE THAT, SOMETIMES, said Death. TO HIM, YOU WERE ALWAYS
HIS BROTHER... AND FAMILY MEANS A LOT TO THE ADOPTED.
Stefan blinked. Just like that, he could see every inch of Kurt's soul
and knew what it meant. Why he didn't have that clarity when he was
still alive was an exercise in pure irony.
He made up his mind. "I know what I'm going to do," he said, and
clamped one hand firmly onto Kurt's shoulder. "I'm going to watch over
my brother, and keep him safe from harm."
AS YOU WISH, said Death. I'LL POP BY FROM TIME TO TIME, IN CASE YOU
WANT TO CHAT.
"Thankyou," whispered Stefan as Death rode away.
But of course, he was new to being a ghost, and could not prevent
Jimaine binding Kurt in an oath. Something he regretted for the rest of
his death. But he learned, and learned well. He worked out how to
influence others and cause things to happen.
Things like; turning Amanda's eyes towards Kurt and helping two
destined souls meet, or snapping the tooth of Scott's comb, or diverting
a football.
Lately, though, things were getting difficult. Which was why he'd hit
Kurt instead of Jimaine. The result, thankfully, was the same - a period
in which his sister was completely unable to influence his brother.
Stefan watched over his sleeping charge, and stared glumly into the
alternate futures for the next day.
It was going to be tough to keep Kurt out of trouble until sunset.
Jimaine was fast approaching the zenith of her power, a time when care
and caution were very important bywords. The Winding Way was a path of
peaks and valleys - and, sometimes, treacherous falls. One had to guard
against those who sought to surpass, while at the same time, plot to
walk ahead of the others on the Way.
While at the zenith, none directly behind her dare attack, since they
were weaker. But what she had to guard against were the ambitious ones
on the previous peak, the ones who were equal or above her in power and
below her in morals.
Therefore, she wove extra charms and wards into her hair, that
morning, guarding against outside harm from magical attacks. She
borrowed a mote of power from the very peak of her ascent, just hours
ahead, so her wards would have that little extra kick.
Then she took a pin, and tipped it in her blood. "Hecatae, guide me,"
she murmured, "Show me a portent of things to come."
The needle flew out of her hands and pierced the newspaper.
Jimaine opened it, looking for the tell-tale spot of blood. There. In
the horoscopes. Marking a sentence that read, "Today is not a day for
unnecessary reflection."
Right. Do, not think. Act, and know what you're doing. _My thanks unto
you, Goddess, for guiding me on the Way._ She put the paper down,
confident that she'd divined the meaning of Hecatae's message - and
neglecting to see that the blood had seeped through to the other side of
the page.
It marked a bathroom supplier's advertisement, and linked an O and an
M together to make something of a skull. A warning of doom.
"Hallo," said a distinctly German voice on the other side of her
locker door.
"Kurt!" Amanda lit up instantly, lunging into a hug and not caring who
saw. "OmyGod, OmyGod, OmyGod... Are you okay? Where's you-know-who? Is
she still-- Oh, *Kurt*... I missed you."
"I miss you, too." Kurt leaned into their embrace. "We don't have
long. The others are watching for her. Telepathic relay." He sniffed her
neck like his life depended on it, then sighed. "Whatever happens,
whatever it may look like, I still love you."
"I love you, too," Amanda said, ruffling the fur on his neck with her
nose. "I just wish it didn't have to happen." Tears pricked her eyes.
"Shh... We have this moment, Geliebt. A moment to last us forever.
Don't cry, love. Savour the moment."
She did. The feel of his fur. The smell of his hair. The goofy smile
he always got when she was around - hologram or no. The way his tail
wound around her leg whenever they embraced.
"You haven't been eating," he murmured. "Look, I can feel your ribs."
"Don't have you around to feed me," she said.
"Ach..." Kurt squeezed her tight for a moment. "Promise me you'll
live for me, liebe. I'll live for you."
"Deal," she whispered.
_She's coming,_ said Jean's voice in her head. _Break it up._
One last squeeze, and they walked away from each other as if it hadn't
happened. There weren't any goodbyes. They'd hurt too much.
"Geleibter," Kurt bowed and kissed her hand. "Nice to see you this
morning." The words were as false as his face, but Jimaine didn't care.
She smiled pleasantly and tickled his ear with her fingers, something
that always made him feel comfortable. Jimaine took his hand and played
with his misshapen fingers. "Now, Kurti," she cooed. "That wasn't too
bad, was it? I'm not that bad, am I?"
"I - I can't say. I thought I knew you, but--" he shook his head. "I'm
not so sure."
Jimaine smiled again. Doubt was always good. A prickle of doubt could
turn the tables for her. "I'm *not* bad, love. I just--" an artful
falter, a touch to her eye, "it's high time I got married. You *know*
our tribe's customs... and since we're already betrothed... maybe - we
could make it work?"
"Ja. Maybe we could." He fiddled with his watch. "It's just - Mama and
Papa *knew* they were meant for each other. They're still in love after
thirty years and four kids. I guess... part of me wanted that, too."
"Don't worry, Geleibter," she soothed, moving into an embrace. "I love
you enough for both of us. I'll never be unfaithful to us." _Easy to do,
since there is no 'us' and a demon has no heart to love._ Jimaine flowed
a little bit of magic into him, making him feel warm. "You're everything
I need, Kurti. I'm so sorry I tried to use force on you. I was just so
scared I'd lose you. I don't want to lose you."
True to type, he held her and brushed her hair and murmured soothing
nothings. He even kissed her ear.
"I'm sorry, too," he said.
Jimaine took that sympathy and added just a hint of magical
amplification. All the better to soften him up for the final blow.
Stefan looked up into the rain, past Kurti to the shadowy figure only
he could see. He was transfixed by that figure.
It was, after all, kind of hard to ignore a seven-foot-tall skeleton.
HALLO, said Death.
"Come *on*," Kurti urged. "Grab *hold*! You're slipping..."
"So you came for me, eh?" said Stefan. "You were always coming for me."
WELL, Death admitted, YOU *WERE* BEING POISONED SINCE YOU WERE FIVE.
YOU COULD SAY I WAS OBSERVING _IN POTENTIA_.
Poison? Even in his addled state, something was wrong with that.
Demons didn't bother with poison... That was usually something that
another type employed. Which type? He couldn't remember.
"*Stefan*..." Kurti urged. "Grab *hold* of something!" That infernal
tail wrapped and re-wrapped around Stefan's neck. Almost as if the demon
didn't want it there.
But didn't the demon want him dead?
FOR EXAMPLE, said Death. POTENTIALLY, THERE COULD BE TWO DEAD, TODAY.
OR ONE. IT ALL DEPENDS ON WHETHER YOUR FRIEND KEEPS HIS GRIP. One
skeletal finger indicated the root Kurti held.
Stefan had a flash of a future. He trusted his friend and grabbed
on... and the abrupt movement made the dry wood snap. _I'm destined to
die,_ he thought.
I NEVER SAID THAT, said Death.
He still had the knife. And someone wanted him dead. Why not the
demon? "Don't be so tentative, demon," he said. He knew what he was
doing, now. He knew where he was going. It was peaceful. One hand
reached up and tightened Kurti's tail around his neck. "You snug it
tight, like this." He demonstrated, making sure his new garotte was
taut. "And then you let go. Like --" the knife flashed and cut Kurti
across his legs, "--*this*!"
A moment of gravity. His hand tightened on Kurt's tail, and he was
amazed at how much it could twitch and struggle in that moment.
{KRAK!}
An unearthly howl almost drowned out the noise of his own death.
Stefan lost feeling in his arms. Watched Kurt dwindle into a little
speck as he fell.
{THUD!}
Stefan got up, a little disoriented, then he looked down. There's
nothing like staring at your own remains to wake you up to the truth.
"He wasn't trying to kill me at all. He never *was* a demon," he said.
YES, said Death. AND YOU COMMITED SUICIDE.
A number of futures came to him, then. Alternate worlds. In one of
them, Stefan, though mad, was careful, and Kurti piggybacked him up to
safety. And Jimaine was there, watching. Making up a lie about Mama's
knife.
"Jimaine," he murmured, watching his sister rescue his 'brother'. "It
was always Jimaine, wasn't it?"
YES. Death cleaned his traditional blade. YOUR SISTER HAS ALWAYS
WANTED POWER.
"If something doesn't happen," said Stefan, "it's going to kill them
both."
Death nodded.
Something occurred to him. "Aren't you going to guide me to the other
side or something?"
NO, STEFAN, said Death. YOU'RE A SUICIDE, NOT A MURDER. YOU HAVE TO
LIVE THE REST OF YOUR NATURAL SPAN AS AN EARTHBOUND SPIRIT. A skeletal
hand patted his shoulder. BUT IT *IS* UP TO YOU HOW YOU SPEND THAT TIME.
In the land of the living, Kurt carefully placed a noose around the
corpse's broken neck. He was weeping an appologising.
"He's mourning me," Stefan wondered. "He loves me and he's mourning me
and I just tried to *kill* him..."
PEOPLE ARE LIKE THAT, SOMETIMES, said Death. TO HIM, YOU WERE ALWAYS
HIS BROTHER... AND FAMILY MEANS A LOT TO THE ADOPTED.
Stefan blinked. Just like that, he could see every inch of Kurt's soul
and knew what it meant. Why he didn't have that clarity when he was
still alive was an exercise in pure irony.
He made up his mind. "I know what I'm going to do," he said, and
clamped one hand firmly onto Kurt's shoulder. "I'm going to watch over
my brother, and keep him safe from harm."
AS YOU WISH, said Death. I'LL POP BY FROM TIME TO TIME, IN CASE YOU
WANT TO CHAT.
"Thankyou," whispered Stefan as Death rode away.
But of course, he was new to being a ghost, and could not prevent
Jimaine binding Kurt in an oath. Something he regretted for the rest of
his death. But he learned, and learned well. He worked out how to
influence others and cause things to happen.
Things like; turning Amanda's eyes towards Kurt and helping two
destined souls meet, or snapping the tooth of Scott's comb, or diverting
a football.
Lately, though, things were getting difficult. Which was why he'd hit
Kurt instead of Jimaine. The result, thankfully, was the same - a period
in which his sister was completely unable to influence his brother.
Stefan watched over his sleeping charge, and stared glumly into the
alternate futures for the next day.
It was going to be tough to keep Kurt out of trouble until sunset.
Jimaine was fast approaching the zenith of her power, a time when care
and caution were very important bywords. The Winding Way was a path of
peaks and valleys - and, sometimes, treacherous falls. One had to guard
against those who sought to surpass, while at the same time, plot to
walk ahead of the others on the Way.
While at the zenith, none directly behind her dare attack, since they
were weaker. But what she had to guard against were the ambitious ones
on the previous peak, the ones who were equal or above her in power and
below her in morals.
Therefore, she wove extra charms and wards into her hair, that
morning, guarding against outside harm from magical attacks. She
borrowed a mote of power from the very peak of her ascent, just hours
ahead, so her wards would have that little extra kick.
Then she took a pin, and tipped it in her blood. "Hecatae, guide me,"
she murmured, "Show me a portent of things to come."
The needle flew out of her hands and pierced the newspaper.
Jimaine opened it, looking for the tell-tale spot of blood. There. In
the horoscopes. Marking a sentence that read, "Today is not a day for
unnecessary reflection."
Right. Do, not think. Act, and know what you're doing. _My thanks unto
you, Goddess, for guiding me on the Way._ She put the paper down,
confident that she'd divined the meaning of Hecatae's message - and
neglecting to see that the blood had seeped through to the other side of
the page.
It marked a bathroom supplier's advertisement, and linked an O and an
M together to make something of a skull. A warning of doom.
"Hallo," said a distinctly German voice on the other side of her
locker door.
"Kurt!" Amanda lit up instantly, lunging into a hug and not caring who
saw. "OmyGod, OmyGod, OmyGod... Are you okay? Where's you-know-who? Is
she still-- Oh, *Kurt*... I missed you."
"I miss you, too." Kurt leaned into their embrace. "We don't have
long. The others are watching for her. Telepathic relay." He sniffed her
neck like his life depended on it, then sighed. "Whatever happens,
whatever it may look like, I still love you."
"I love you, too," Amanda said, ruffling the fur on his neck with her
nose. "I just wish it didn't have to happen." Tears pricked her eyes.
"Shh... We have this moment, Geliebt. A moment to last us forever.
Don't cry, love. Savour the moment."
She did. The feel of his fur. The smell of his hair. The goofy smile
he always got when she was around - hologram or no. The way his tail
wound around her leg whenever they embraced.
"You haven't been eating," he murmured. "Look, I can feel your ribs."
"Don't have you around to feed me," she said.
"Ach..." Kurt squeezed her tight for a moment. "Promise me you'll
live for me, liebe. I'll live for you."
"Deal," she whispered.
_She's coming,_ said Jean's voice in her head. _Break it up._
One last squeeze, and they walked away from each other as if it hadn't
happened. There weren't any goodbyes. They'd hurt too much.
"Geleibter," Kurt bowed and kissed her hand. "Nice to see you this
morning." The words were as false as his face, but Jimaine didn't care.
She smiled pleasantly and tickled his ear with her fingers, something
that always made him feel comfortable. Jimaine took his hand and played
with his misshapen fingers. "Now, Kurti," she cooed. "That wasn't too
bad, was it? I'm not that bad, am I?"
"I - I can't say. I thought I knew you, but--" he shook his head. "I'm
not so sure."
Jimaine smiled again. Doubt was always good. A prickle of doubt could
turn the tables for her. "I'm *not* bad, love. I just--" an artful
falter, a touch to her eye, "it's high time I got married. You *know*
our tribe's customs... and since we're already betrothed... maybe - we
could make it work?"
"Ja. Maybe we could." He fiddled with his watch. "It's just - Mama and
Papa *knew* they were meant for each other. They're still in love after
thirty years and four kids. I guess... part of me wanted that, too."
"Don't worry, Geleibter," she soothed, moving into an embrace. "I love
you enough for both of us. I'll never be unfaithful to us." _Easy to do,
since there is no 'us' and a demon has no heart to love._ Jimaine flowed
a little bit of magic into him, making him feel warm. "You're everything
I need, Kurti. I'm so sorry I tried to use force on you. I was just so
scared I'd lose you. I don't want to lose you."
True to type, he held her and brushed her hair and murmured soothing
nothings. He even kissed her ear.
"I'm sorry, too," he said.
Jimaine took that sympathy and added just a hint of magical
amplification. All the better to soften him up for the final blow.