CHAPTER 3
Skinner slouched in his seat, although he knew he shouldn't. Vicky would come after him if she found out. Thankfully, she was at home with their two kids. She had wanted to come for the meeting, but James had woken up sick that morning.
The doors opened; Allan Quatermain, and Mina and Dorian Gray came in together. Skinner had, reluctantly, contacted the enigmatic Mycroft Holmes. The man himself was already seated at the end of the long table, his poker face on. As usual, Dominicus Pike, his assistant, was next to him. Somehow or another, Mycroft had been able to assemble the League, calling for a meeting three days after Skinner had talked to him, allowing Nemo time to pick Tom up.
"Evenin', Allan, Mina, Dorian," Skinner greeted, finally standing up and pacing. Laire was in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall in a cocky style that reminded Skinner of Dorian himself. "Glad you could make it."
"What threatens the world this time?" Dorian asked, dryly. He had his navy cane with him, and he sauntered into the room, as usual; Skinner knew, though, that fatherhood had changed him. Hell, it's changed all of us. Skinner thought back to their last adventure, which had ended with him in a coma, and the spirits of the late Jesse Heathrow, Sierra Worthbright and Crow McGuire helping them to end the reign of terror of the Dark Lord.
"Don't know, myself," Skinner told him, causing Mina to raise a brow. "Ask him." Skinner jabbed his thumb in the general direction of Laire, who barely looked up at the new arrivals.
Allan noticed Laire then. "Who is he?" There was more white now, in Allan's hair; now that Will was in his early twenties, the former adventurer had a burden off his shoulders. He didn't need to worry about the boy's education any more.
Skinner flinched. "My son."
Before anyone in the room could answer, the doors were pushed open again, and Captain Nemo, Doctor Henry Jekyll and Tom Sawyer entered. The last of the three still showed his youthfulness in comparison to those around, and the fact drew a smile from Skinner. None of them had changed much since that first mission, in personality or looks. It was amazing to think how many years had passed.
They were greeted, the three new arrivals, in the same manner the first had been, and before long, Laire had once again attracted attention. All eyes were on the mysterious figure now. Once more, he had the hood of his cloak low over his face, as though ashamed to be seen. Skinner cleared his throat, and Laire lowered the cloth.
The utter silence that descended upon the room was not quite what Skinner had expected, but it wasn't far off. The solid blue eyes were the main distraction no doubt. It wasn't every day you saw something like that.
Must have gotten those from his mother's side o' the family, Skinner thought without humour. "Meet Laire Di'markiir."
"And this is your son?" Allan asked incredulously, waving a hand in disbelief. Perhaps he thought Skinner was up to his old tricks, playing pranks again.
"Indeed he is," Skinner sighed, and rubbed his weary eyes with a hand, before looking to the stranger once again, " from a prior acquaintance."
"I am aware of your identities," Laire said then, and moved away from the wall, "and my people are in dire need of your assistance."
"Whoa," Tom spoke up; holding a hand aloft, and furrowing his brow, "back up a little. What's going on?"
Skinner slouched even further in his chair, and threw his 'son' a glance. Laire seemed to understand this, and his cobalt orbs turned on each League member in turn as he spoke; "I came here to ask for your assistance, knowing that you have dealt with these kinds of odds before. It is imperative that you help us."
"Who, exactly, is 'us'?" Dorian leaned on his cane, and raised a brow, standing – as ever – behind Mina's chair almost territorially. He was becoming a little impatient, and despite the changes he had undergone through the years, he did a bad job of hiding it.
"No doubt you all recall your battle in the realm that I call my home," Laire began anew, and a few heads turned at that statement. Laire smiled grimly, nodding his head, crowned with white-blonde hair. "Yes, I see you understand that… and I am assuming you will all remember just who you endeavored to defeat?"
"The Dark Lord," Mina revealed, acting as the collective voice. Her green eyes sparked with understanding.
"Yes," Laire said to her, "I am afraid a new Dark Lord terrorizes my dimension, and this time… we may not be able to fend him off. Our defenses are weak; we cannot hope to survive a battle against him, and a war is inevitable."
"A new Dark Lord?" Jekyll's gaze floated to Skinner, who nodded, resting his head on his hand, as if weary. He was starting to get a headache. He had just about had enough, but he knew that Laire wasn't exactly exaggerating; he didn't seem the type.
Laire pressed on, the secret urgency in his voice seeping into his words, "Yes. The one you destroyed… he had an heir, a son." Laire's face became dark with anger as he said, "And, if it is at all possible, he is far worse than his father."
"Worse?" Tom glanced about, and frowned. "How much worse?"
"War," Laire said coldly, "is coming. The races are in combined uproar about the situation, and it is common knowledge that we do not have enough strength or resources to create a big enough army of the peoples of my dimension, or combat this threat. The races will fall to the Dark Lord's army… but I intend to see it otherwise." His eyes rested for a moment on the faces present, before he urged, "Please… we need your help. We cannot do this without you."
"But why us?" came Mina's question. "We are but seven individuals. What difference will this make in your own army?"
Laire smiled again, though it was devoid of humour. "Yes, Mrs. Gray, that is true, but you have defeated a Dark Lord of immense power before."
"Wait," Allan cut in, narrowing his eyes, "that wasn't even our doing. It was the spirits of his victims that destroyed him."
The blue eyes wavered for a moment in their stern gaze, and a gentle sigh broke from Laire's form as he nodded. "Yes… but do not so quickly brush aside the fact that you defeated an army of orcs, a gryphon, and several demons." The smile returned. "You are not so easily defeated as you may think, sirs… and madam." He nodded to Mina, who raised a brow in acknowledgement.
Dorian took in a deep breath, recalling his arduous battle with the huge beast, and quickly brushed it aside to try and make sense of this new warning. "You say this is his heir, his son," the immortal began calmly, "and that we were successful on our visit before in destroying an army of orcs… where does he draw his soldiers from now?"
"He creates them, Mr. Gray, as his father did before him. You forget the intensity of magicks where I come from. It is not so hard to create a fearsome soldier, as it is to…" he shrugged his lean shoulders, "heal a cut perhaps, or draw forth a small spring from which to drink. Magicks are his main weapon, and his far outstrip our own. The Affati, Aseyewrn, the Elves… humans… our magick-" He cut himself off for a moment. "It is hopeless without your assistance."
"It can't be," Jekyll interrupted, shaking his head and trying to work out this new puzzle, "how can 'all hope be lost'? Surely all of the combined races are enough to destroy this army and claim victory. If we did it alone, can't all of your world defend itself efficiently?"
"That's just the problem," Skinner cut in, taking his head out of his hands and standing with a loud sigh, "they can't. You remember what Vicky told us about her people… there aren't many of them left. The Affati are all but extinct as well. They can't do this without us… apparently." He glanced to Laire briefly, and the young man nodded his thanks. "He's come all this way to ask for our help… and he needs an answer quickly."
The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen turned their eyes upon one another and exchanged questioning, hesitant glances. Were they really ready to go back to that place that could have claimed all their lives?
