Flesh Wounds

Part Twelve

"Princess, how good to see you!" Fredric, head cook of the Palace, laughed, noisily kissing both her cheek.

"Fredric," she replied fondly. "I was here just six months ago."

"Six months too long. Come, let me show you to a table."

"I have someone meeting us."

"A young gentleman?"

"Perhaps."

"And this is…?" The cook asked, catching sight of Giles.

"Rupert Giles, my…foster-father. Perapa, this is Fredric."

The two men shook hands. "A friend of the Princess's is a friend of mine," the dark-haired cook declared. "Come, follow me, and tell me when your young man arrives." He snapped his fingers; a waiter picked up an extra table and weaved through the crow to place it in a shadowed corner near the kitchen. "Anything you need, call me, yes?"

"Gabriel's here," Giles said, nodding toward the dark-haired man.

"I will show him over," Fredric announced, straightening his chef's hat, and Athena sighed.

"Don't scare him off, dear. I like this one."

She received a wink in reply.

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"What did he tell you?" The girl asked suspiciously as the two arrived at the table.

"That you were the best woman he knew and if I hurt you, he would boil me alive," Gabriel replied, kissing her alabaster cheek and presenting her with a rose. "For you, my lady. Where's your bear?"

"Wings is at my apartment," she answered.

A grin split his face at the name.

"And what shall we have tonight?" The cook asked, producing menus.

"My usual, if you please, Fredric," the girl replied.

"Chicken and turkey Fettuccini Alfredo with extra cheese in the sauce," he replied by rote. "And your gentlemen?"

After the two had ordered, Giles glanced at Athena. "Not to be rude, my dear, but you need to powder your nose."

"That is one of the worst excuses I have ever heard," she teased. "I'll be back in a little while."

Once she was out of earshot, Rupert pinned Gabriel with his gaze. "Now we can speak freely."

Gabriel gulped.

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When the girl came back ten minutes later, the two men were discussing the history of Inca gods. Giles nodded almost imperceptibly as she sat back down, and she let out a silent sigh of relief.

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After dinner, Gabriel unlocked his door and led Athena in. "So what did he say?" She asked.

"Mainly, if I hurt you, he kills me."

"That's all?"

"No, then he quizzed me on my family, my job, and so on. Then we started to talk about the Incas," he laughed, settling into his chair.

She perched on the arm. "I'm glad you two like each other. You're two of the most important men in my life."

He merely smiled at her, and she bent her head, kissing him hard for a brief moment. "I'd better look at those papers."

"There's only seven pages left," he told her. "The first three were the journal entry, I guess."

On a random thought, she held one of the pages up to the light and frowned. "There's writing under these words." Waving a hand, she lit a flame in mid-air and began to hold the pages over it.

"Nothing's happening," Gabriel muttered.

"Just wait," Athena replied as the paper began to glow.

The letters shifted and crawled over the parchment. Athena's chair suddenly shot backwards; the paper floated to the floor. "My," she managed to get out as a blue glow overtook her bracelet, and it shifted into sword form.

"Athena…?" Gabriel asked warily, but she jerked up a hand to silence him.

Her arm shot upright, the tip of her blade disappearing. "Crap," she muttered.

"What?"

"It's pierced the veil of time," she replied as the Witchblade sliced downward, splitting the air into two.

"What are you doing?"

Athena merely held out her left hand. "It wants us to go," she told him calmly.

He studied her hard, then wrapped his slender fingers around hers. And they stepped through.

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"Um, where are we?"

"Babylonian Empire," Athena answered as her bracelet resumed its more innocent form. "We're outside the throne room." Brow arched, she rested her hand against the wall and watched it go through the stone. "Hmm."

"What's going on, sweetheart?" Gabriel asked, crossing his arms.

"We are, in effect, ghosts. Come on, let's see if we're when I think we are."

They went through the door; Gabriel shuddered at the feel of passing through wood. Athena flashed him a quick smile. "Weird, isn't it?"

"Very."

"Yes, there's Coba," she mused. "He aged so quickly…this must be right when Akri fell ill…"

"Then let's go check her out."

The couple headed trough a series of corridors and walls, until Athena suddenly stopped. "She's in here," she told him, pulling him through the last door. "Oh, my lord…"

Gabriel blinked at the form on the bed. What had once been an exquisite girl was ruined by multiple bite-marks, rendering her to just a form tied to a bed. "This is Akri? Why is she tied?"

"To keep from biting herself," was the soft reply as the Princess knelt by the bed, ghosting her hand over the girl. "What could have done this?"

"Why is it ghosts never fall through the floor?" Gabriel asked, as was his fashion.

"What?"

He repeated the question.

"Mindset," she said absently. "Ghosts are humans, so they still think like humans, therefore can walk on floors."

"Really?"

"Not a clue. But it sounded good," she smiled.

"Um, what are you looking for?"

"Honestly? I don't know. But we're here for a reason, hence I look." She sat back on her heels, sighing in frustration. "This is the first time I have never found any psychic residue."

He crouched beside her, pity in his eyes. "This poor girl…"

"I know." Athena turned back to business. "Look at these bite marks. They're the same as on the victims in our time, which means what's doing this is causing us trouble back home." She bit her thumbnail. "Let's go back to the throne room. There's nothing else here." Still, before they left, she concentrated, and bent to kiss the girl's forehead.

Gabriel merely took her hand, and they headed out.

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Once back in the throne room, Athena paced around the people, skillfully avoiding collisions. "What am I not seeing?" She fretted, then slowly turned.

The doors opened; a tall, cloaked figure strode through. With a flourish, he tossed his hood back, revealing milky skin and coppery hair; Athena's eyes widened. "Dasseren?" She whispered, while Gabriel gave a low whistle. The newcomer's eyes were literally bathed in dark flame.

The man named Dasseren suddenly stopped, his gaze sweeping the room, and halting on Gabriel. A grin split his swarthy face, and Athena was moving before she realized it, racing to Bowman. "Stay behind me," she hissed.

If anything, Dasseren's grin merely grew wider, and he held up a hand.

Athena barely had time to hold up her right arm before a whirlwind of sand engulfed them.