The human shield that had blocked Duncan's view of Richie fell to the
ground. The boy stood, hand empty glaring down at the fallen immortal.
"Kill him." He instructed.
"Richie, what did you do?" Duncan asked in disbelief, riveted to the ground.
"I started what you have to finish."
Duncan found his legs and slowly approached the altar. He stared into Richie's eyes and found no remorse, only a deep well of pain, anger, and malice.
"Finish it, MacLeod." The boy repeated before turning his attention to Rylan.
. . . . . .
Duncan paced back and forth in front of Aldius' still body. He didn't know much of anything about the man, except that he was a couple thousand years older than he was, and he used the people closest to other immortals to get their quickenings. Holy Ground was his favorite place to confront other immortals. He offered them the same deal he had offered Duncan, and had always gotten away with it, until now. Duncan fought the urge to just take the man's head and get it over with. They weren't on Holy Ground anymore; he had drug the body out the back way Richie had come in. The park behind the cathedral belonged to the city; anything Duncan did here would be perfectly legal. He made his decision. He stood over the man with his katana raised, ready for the fatal blow.
. . . . . .
Richie lightly slapped Rylan's face.
"Come on, Ry, wake up." She didn't respond, so he gently maneuvered her into a sitting position. "Work with me here. I can't carry you, you have to wake up." He groaned, laid her back down, and tapped her on the face again. "Come on, come on." He muttered.
He stepped back and looked at her chest steadily rising and falling. Her skin had a pale hue to it. Frowning, he reached out to her wrist to find a pulse, but as he turned her arm over something caught his eye: a bruise forming in the crook of her left arm.
. . . . . .
Aldius awoke to Duncan standing over him.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't take your head right now." Duncan growled.
"I have no chance to defend myself."
The memories of what had happened in the cathedral over the past week and a half played through Duncan's mind. He knew Richie hadn't gotten a chance to defend himself, and he doubted Rylan had either. Anger flashed through his eyes.
"You'll have to do better than that." He sneered.
. . . . . .
Richie looked up as the lights of the cathedral flickered, then went out. An eerie glow from the candles illuminated the altar. Bright lights flashed in the sky outside, and winds howled sending a shiver down the boy's back. For the first time since he had re-entered the cathedral, Richie was scared. His stomach tied itself into a knot as the thought that Duncan might not have won entered his mind. He heard that back door to the cathedral open and footsteps jogging down the hall. He picked up the discarded sword from the ground. Seeing the blood on the blade made his heart skip a beat.
"Richie?" Duncan called as he ascended the stairs. He stopped in the doorway and looked at Richie, who stood facing him, sword up ready to fight. Slowly the boy lowered the weapon and the two looked at each other. "What do you say we get out of here?" Duncan asked quietly. Without a word Richie turned to face Rylan. Then he turned back around, looked at the floor, and mumbled something. "Richie, I can't understand you when you do that."
Richie lifted his eyes to meet Duncan's. "I said, you get her. I can't pick her up." He said just loud enough to be understood. Duncan repressed his smile.
"Not a problem." He said moving to gather the girl in his arms. "That gut of yours still giving you problems?" He asked trying to keep the conversation going.
"Yeah." Richie answered softly. "Careful, she's heavier than she looks." He warned.
"You're right." Duncan grunted as he lifted Rylan up.
. . . . . .
Rylan moaned softly as Duncan put her on the bed. He looked at the bruise on her arm.
"I wonder how much he used." He said softly.
"How much of what?" Richie asked.
"He had to have used some kind of sedative to keep her out this long. When she wakes up depends on how much he used. And what he used."
"Should we take her to the hospital?" Tessa asked brushing Rylan's hair out of her eyes.
"She already looks better than she did. I think it should ware off in a little while."
"You think?" Richie repeated. "What if you think wrong? What if this is serious?"
"It shouldn't be."
"Shouldn't be?! That's not good enough!" Richie spat.
"Richie, calm down, Duncan knows what he's talking about." Tessa said softly.
"He always does, doesn't he?" Richie turned and stalked out of the room.
Duncan stared after him, open-mouthed. "I don't understand him! We were just fine a couple minutes ago! Why is he so angry?" he yelled slamming the door closed. Tessa looked up from her seat beside the bed.
"He's worried, and he probably doesn't understand what's happening. Don't be so short with him. I don't know about you, but I remember what I was like as a teenager. Sudden bursts of anger are natural. He'll get over it." She watched Duncan pace the length of the room.
"It's been over a week." He finally said, fighting to keep his voice calm. "It's never been this bad before. He barely talks to me and when he does, he only yells. There's more to do with this than just 'he's a teenager'. Something is seriously wrong with him."
"Then ask him if you're so worried." Tessa answered. "Don't yell, don't judge, just ask and listen."
"I will." Duncan said resolutely turning to find where the boy went.
"Kill him." He instructed.
"Richie, what did you do?" Duncan asked in disbelief, riveted to the ground.
"I started what you have to finish."
Duncan found his legs and slowly approached the altar. He stared into Richie's eyes and found no remorse, only a deep well of pain, anger, and malice.
"Finish it, MacLeod." The boy repeated before turning his attention to Rylan.
. . . . . .
Duncan paced back and forth in front of Aldius' still body. He didn't know much of anything about the man, except that he was a couple thousand years older than he was, and he used the people closest to other immortals to get their quickenings. Holy Ground was his favorite place to confront other immortals. He offered them the same deal he had offered Duncan, and had always gotten away with it, until now. Duncan fought the urge to just take the man's head and get it over with. They weren't on Holy Ground anymore; he had drug the body out the back way Richie had come in. The park behind the cathedral belonged to the city; anything Duncan did here would be perfectly legal. He made his decision. He stood over the man with his katana raised, ready for the fatal blow.
. . . . . .
Richie lightly slapped Rylan's face.
"Come on, Ry, wake up." She didn't respond, so he gently maneuvered her into a sitting position. "Work with me here. I can't carry you, you have to wake up." He groaned, laid her back down, and tapped her on the face again. "Come on, come on." He muttered.
He stepped back and looked at her chest steadily rising and falling. Her skin had a pale hue to it. Frowning, he reached out to her wrist to find a pulse, but as he turned her arm over something caught his eye: a bruise forming in the crook of her left arm.
. . . . . .
Aldius awoke to Duncan standing over him.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't take your head right now." Duncan growled.
"I have no chance to defend myself."
The memories of what had happened in the cathedral over the past week and a half played through Duncan's mind. He knew Richie hadn't gotten a chance to defend himself, and he doubted Rylan had either. Anger flashed through his eyes.
"You'll have to do better than that." He sneered.
. . . . . .
Richie looked up as the lights of the cathedral flickered, then went out. An eerie glow from the candles illuminated the altar. Bright lights flashed in the sky outside, and winds howled sending a shiver down the boy's back. For the first time since he had re-entered the cathedral, Richie was scared. His stomach tied itself into a knot as the thought that Duncan might not have won entered his mind. He heard that back door to the cathedral open and footsteps jogging down the hall. He picked up the discarded sword from the ground. Seeing the blood on the blade made his heart skip a beat.
"Richie?" Duncan called as he ascended the stairs. He stopped in the doorway and looked at Richie, who stood facing him, sword up ready to fight. Slowly the boy lowered the weapon and the two looked at each other. "What do you say we get out of here?" Duncan asked quietly. Without a word Richie turned to face Rylan. Then he turned back around, looked at the floor, and mumbled something. "Richie, I can't understand you when you do that."
Richie lifted his eyes to meet Duncan's. "I said, you get her. I can't pick her up." He said just loud enough to be understood. Duncan repressed his smile.
"Not a problem." He said moving to gather the girl in his arms. "That gut of yours still giving you problems?" He asked trying to keep the conversation going.
"Yeah." Richie answered softly. "Careful, she's heavier than she looks." He warned.
"You're right." Duncan grunted as he lifted Rylan up.
. . . . . .
Rylan moaned softly as Duncan put her on the bed. He looked at the bruise on her arm.
"I wonder how much he used." He said softly.
"How much of what?" Richie asked.
"He had to have used some kind of sedative to keep her out this long. When she wakes up depends on how much he used. And what he used."
"Should we take her to the hospital?" Tessa asked brushing Rylan's hair out of her eyes.
"She already looks better than she did. I think it should ware off in a little while."
"You think?" Richie repeated. "What if you think wrong? What if this is serious?"
"It shouldn't be."
"Shouldn't be?! That's not good enough!" Richie spat.
"Richie, calm down, Duncan knows what he's talking about." Tessa said softly.
"He always does, doesn't he?" Richie turned and stalked out of the room.
Duncan stared after him, open-mouthed. "I don't understand him! We were just fine a couple minutes ago! Why is he so angry?" he yelled slamming the door closed. Tessa looked up from her seat beside the bed.
"He's worried, and he probably doesn't understand what's happening. Don't be so short with him. I don't know about you, but I remember what I was like as a teenager. Sudden bursts of anger are natural. He'll get over it." She watched Duncan pace the length of the room.
"It's been over a week." He finally said, fighting to keep his voice calm. "It's never been this bad before. He barely talks to me and when he does, he only yells. There's more to do with this than just 'he's a teenager'. Something is seriously wrong with him."
"Then ask him if you're so worried." Tessa answered. "Don't yell, don't judge, just ask and listen."
"I will." Duncan said resolutely turning to find where the boy went.