Author's Notes: Oh… oh… DUCK! You were a bit slow, and now you've just received a flying kiss from me! Hah! Oh, well. If I could I'd give you all more than that. I'll give you a cookie! Or a dollar for all being so wonderful! Or I'll bake you each a cake! Not that I'm a better cook than Marguerite is but it's the thought that counts, right? :)
- Beckers… blood, definitely NOT a good sign… :) BTW, I need more of your delicious fics! I just visited your site and read all of your stuff (I absolutely love your NUMB, DECLINE, THE CRAVING and DARK HUNTER) and now I will boldly declare that I DEMAND MORE from you! Okay, that sounded, well, demanding… how about… please, can I have more?
- Ijemanja, I'm glad that you were freaked out by the prologue and creeped (?) by the old woman… now I know that I've gotten my desire effect on y'all! :)
- veggie_5… as shameful as I am to admit it, I AM definitely a tease! Hehe. Now that I've just finished reading your fics (MisMatch and Hidden World), I am tapping my foot on the floor (I think my mom just woke up… shoot!), waiting desperately for the next installments. *Sings* Next insta-allments! BTW, Veronica won't be hooking up with anyone. I wouldn't dream of it! N/V all the way! *or at least, for your sake… Mwahahahah!*
- TLWROX… shameless little us, both having dirty little minds! I admit I haven't watched 'Stranded' *oh, curses all!* so I'm at loss, but guessing from your tone I could only imagine what the ep was all about… Oi! My dirty imagination just ran away from me again!
- and thank you for those who reviewed my attempt at humor and fluffiness. Meant a lot to me. Thanks!
Author's Notes 2: Chapter Four will be coming on Monday (I think). Hope you'll wait for it! And have you noticed? The BIG, HUMONGOUS spaces are gone! Yay!
Disclaimer: Anything related to 'the Lost World' is not mine.
Cry of the Blood
Chapter Three
George Challenger has never, in his entire existence, seen anything quite like this ever before.
Earlier, while drinking with the elders he was also discussing with them the phenomenon called rain. The Zanga people thought that each droplet of water was a blessing from their Rain God, Bathala, who, after enough sacrifices were offered, will permit the heavens to open and let its divine water flow downwards to the parched earth. Challenger simply explained to them that rain was just recycled water; that after the clouds have gathered enough evaporated water in them from different rivers and streams and have just become too heavy with its burden, the water will come back to earth as droplets of rain, and some of it will end up in rivers and streams to begin the journey all over again. Both parties seemed amused at their counterparts' explanation; neither accepting nor believing the other's claim.
But now… they wished the other has an explanation for this incident, because even in the wisest and most knowledgeable man they could not find the answer to the phenomena that was unfolding in front of them.
How Challenger wished that this could be explained as easily as he explained the scientific journey of rain.
He watched silently as Mara, one the village's most trusted healers, placed several large leaves on the woman's forehead. Challenger did not want to question the act right now, because all the others seemed intent into saving the life of the old woman who lied there, almost on the edge, clinging only to life by a mere thread.
Mara shook her head, almost sadly at that, and then she proceeded to remove the leaves from her face.
"Mara?" Amal asked the healer.
She took her leaves with her as she stood up. "Magda must have done something to displease the Gods." She stated quietly. Mara glanced at the bedraggled form by the bed, and sighed. "She only has until sundown to live."
The other elders took in this news with much regret, as each bent his head, already in mourning.
But Challenger won't accept this fact that easily. Quickly, he approached Amal and placed his hand on the elder's shoulder. "Amal," he said softly. "Why don't you allow me to take a look at her?"
Amal looked up at him, his black eyes almost sunken in grief. "But we already know what is to become of her." He said lowly. Amal returned his eyes on Magda's body. "As Mara said, she must have displeased the Gods in some way, and now she is paying the price."
"My friend," Challenger muttered. "We have our differences, both in faith and in practice, but this time we have something in common; and that is, to see this woman alive." He removed his hand from Amal's shoulder and went to stand beside the healer. "You have done your own diagnosis, let me do mine. Please."
Amal looked at the explorer, his gaze intense and very deep. Then, he gave a sigh that Challenger could only think of as consent. "Then, you shall do as you will." He said as he stood up. He motioned with one hand and one by one, the three elders went out of Magda's tent, with the healer the last one to leave. And before Amal left Challenger to his task, he spoke softly, pleadingly.
"Save her, my friend. She is family to us; we consider her as important as your friends are to you."
And now Challenger was faced with the gravity of the woman's situation.
*
Roxton found it in himself that he regretted deeply the abrupt conclusion of what promised to be, well… a very promising night.
He spotted Marguerite walking towards the silent Assai. When the Zanga woman spotted her, she gave a brief smile and then looked away. Not one to be dissuaded by nonverbal actions, Marguerite planted herself firmly by Assai's side.
And now, the Zanga woman was crying openly, her tears spilling directly onto Marguerite's shoulder.
Marguerite rubbed the woman's back in an effort to calm her down. She whispered soothing words to dam the woman's tears. Marguerite looked directly at Roxton, as if she felt his eyes on her all along. She gestured towards an equally silent Veronica, silently telling him to try and give some comfort to the pale woman.
Obediently, Roxton, with two cups of water in hand, went off to Veronica. The woman looked startled by his sudden appearance, seemingly shaken out of her own reverie, and then smiled in vain as she accepted the water he so gallantly offered. Roxton noticed that, while holding on to the cup, the jungle girl's hands were shaking terribly. "Veronica?" He asked, concerned.
Veronica wiped the excess water off her mouth with her hand. She heard Roxton's unsaid question. "I'm fine." She said softly.
Roxton glanced at the tent of the stricken elder, not at all surprised that Veronica's eyes were firmly latched on it. He drew in a little breath, then expelled it in a rush.
The celebration they found themselves to be involved in abruptly ended when Assai came out of the tent, shrieking at the top of her lungs. All of the natives were alarmed, and all the merriment came to an end. Roxton and Marguerite were even left alone while dancing together, both wondering just what in hell was going on.
Then Roxton pointed at the elders, Challenger included with them, being called to the tent where Assai sprung from.
Then Marguerite heard from one of the women that an old shaman was seemingly stricken with black magic while trying to peer into the future.
"Magda must have lost control of the spirits," one said.
"But that cannot be. She's very powerful, is she not? To have spent years on the mountain, it should have made her stronger, more able to control her gift."
"But spirits can be very unpredictable. A foolish, weak shaman to try and control it could end up with a spirit enslaving him, or—"
Marguerite drew in her breath sharply, as she turned away from their conversation. Roxton wrapped her in his arms.
Or she could end up dead from trying to use magic that she cannot handle, from using a craft that was too strong for her.
"I don't understand," Veronica muttered, almost to herself. Roxton pushed his thoughts away to listen to her. "Assai said that she— she was able to read her future. But when it came to me—"
He sat closer to her, and placed an awkward hand on her shoulder; only to find her skin cold and clammy. "It's not your fault." He said soothingly.
Veronica closed her eyes, and then nodded. "She… she saw something in my future." She whispered. "And then she said…"
"She said what?"
"Blood." She frowned. "She saw blood in my future." Veronica turned troubled eyes towards him. "What does that mean?"
Roxton shook his head. "I don't know." He said honestly.
Footsteps echoed in their ears, and when they looked up they saw Marguerite walking towards them. "Where's Assai?" Roxton asked her as she approached.
"Asleep." Marguerite answered. She turned her eyes on Veronica. "And that's what you should be right now."
Veronica shook her head. "I can't sleep anyways."
Roxton stood up. "I'll just check on Challenger." He said, drinking what's left of his water before setting it beside Veronica's. He then stopped beside Marguerite, touched her cheek with his fingers, and then he went off to the old shaman's tent.
Marguerite sat on the spot Roxton has vacated and regarded the younger woman's pale face. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly.
Veronica turned to stare at her. She's never heard Marguerite talk to anyone that way before. Then she shook her head. "There isn't much to tell." She said.
"Except Magda seemed to see death in my future."
*
Roxton opened the tent, and stepped inside to find Challenger doing some sort of test on the woman. "Challenger?" he asked. "What are you doing?"
Challenger regarded the younger man with a brief nod, then went back into dangling his own locket on the woman's face. After a few more swings he pocketed the locket and stood up. "Just what I suspected." He started.
Roxton went closer to the bed where the old lady lies. Her face looked older as fine lines marred its surface, but her eyes, though wide open, were staring into nothingness. "What is it? What's wrong with her?"
Challenger glanced at the woman. "That's the problem, nothing's wrong with her. I've checked her pulse, her reflexes, her body temperature… even her eyesight. She followed my locket with her eyes, John. Scientifically speaking, she's a healthy specimen. She should be walking about, not lying here like some kind of corpse."
"So you're saying that what the natives were saying is true, that she's been stricken by magic." Roxton assumed.
"Or something else that science simply cannot explain." Challenger noticed something on the ground. He crouched and picked up a leaf. "One of the healers said that Magda has until sundown tomorrow." He said. "I wonder…"
And before Roxton could blink, Challenger was already out the door.
Roxton looked at the form of the woman and gave an audible sigh. He then turned around, fully intending to follow Challenger, when suddenly…
"ROXTON!"
And suddenly he was in full alert.
That was Marguerite's voice.
He ran out, his senses mechanically beginning his search for the woman whose cry just tore through him. He whipped his head from side to side, trying to locate her, trying to see what danger was onto them—
And when he saw Marguerite, he almost sank to his knees in relief.
But something was wrong. Horribly wrong.
She was still talking to Veronica, and there was no amount of fear whatsoever on her face. In fact, when he looked around, there was nothing unusual in the village, save for some people running about. There was no danger that he needed to save her from.
Confusion resided on Roxton's face.
Then his gaze ended up on the tent he just came from.
Reluctantly, Roxton dragged his feet back into the tent. When he stepped inside, his eyes immediately focused on the woman on the bed. Before he could stop himself, he was walking towards her. Then he noticed that her mouth, closed before, was now wide open.
And then…
"ROXTON, NOOOO!!"
Bewildered, Roxton took a step back as he recognized Veronica's scream. Clearly her voice cannot be as clear as he heard it, judging from the distance from her and Marguerite's spot from his.
"Roxton, no! Don't kill her! She's not the one possessed!"
Challenger spoke to him like he was beside the hunter. But there was no way that that could be true.
"Marguerite is! Kill her, Roxton, before she destroys all of you!"
Roxton took another step back. And then he noticed something…
Magda's eyes were staring at him.
Then he felt something hot and sticky on his palm.
And when he looked down, he saw blood. Everywhere. On his clothes, on his skin.
He'd been stabbed.
* end chapter three
how's that for a cliffhanger? *demented grin*