Chapter 30
It was dark by the time Duncan returned to Paris. He truly hoped Amanda hadn't been coming to the Eternal City and that nothing he'd said to her would bring her here. He wanted to spend time with her... he wanted to hold her... but not now... Right now he had to find out just who this immortal was that had slain mortals in so public a manner... as well as at least one of them. He had to find him and deal with him before the Paris authorities became any more involved and suspicious.
He'd tried to reach Methos since leaving Alisaunne at Ste. Genevieve, but the older immortal was not picking up. All Duncan got was the recording that took messages. Duncan had already left five. "Damn him!" Duncan thought as he patrolled the main avenues of the city... hoping to sense someone... anyone... But so far... his search had been fruitless.
He turned down the Avenue Bosquet. The lights of the city were bright and cheerful... the city as always a center of life and art. He could recall a time when there had not been electricity here... and when those magic lights had first begun to appear... strung about buildings and up and down the streets... He remembered when the street lamps themselves had first appeared... the old gas lamps... then the modern electric ones. It was at times like this that being an immortal in a changing and advancing world gave him pause to truly appreciate his long life.
There were other times, of course, when he did not joy in it. When he'd had to watch people he cared about grow old and die while he remained. And, of course, there was the game. If immortals could just live and the game end without the deaths of his friends... teachers... students... what would he give? Oh... he'd continue to fight if pressed... he still practiced daily... but his longevity was beginning to make him wistful about the people he lost.
Perhaps some of this reverie had been caused by the ones he'd met at Ste. Genevieve. The children were reminders that for his kind... a childhood accident could be a sentence of eternal childhood. The three-year old little girl had seemed especially vulnerable. The boy Ian said he'd died in a coal mining accident in Wales. He at least seemed almost old enough physically to have a chance for survival in the outer world. The elderly nun Sister Luke, however, had no chance in the game at all. She had been ninety-six when she'd died. And while immortality gave her health and had stopped her aging... she was still ninety-six and was an easy target.
"When I am weary of just continuing, Highlander, I shall leave this place and enter the outer world. I'm just not quite ready to die, yet. To me... the world is filled with wonder and there is still so much to learn." She'd smiled sadly. Duncan had felt she would likely ask for death from one of the children one day... that she would give them what little strength she had in the hope that it would help one of them.
His thoughts returned once more to the children. Had Methos found and brought them all there? Why? If not... he certainly had known of that place for some time. "The doctor" they called him... some calling him Dr. Benjamin or Dr. Adams or Dr. Edwards or... MacLeod shook his head. How did he keep all those names straight? Duncan had long ago decided he was who he was... Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod! He could almost here his mother say it and then say..."and let no man tell ya different!" So that is who he was... and always would be. Raised to lead the clan... but who now was his clan? He smiled... his immortal friends were his clan... Now if only there some way to end the game so that they could all live. He wanted to find a way to keep all of them safe. Otherwise... what hope did any of them have at any happiness. If he could find a way... then maybe... just maybe... Amanda would stop running.
An explosion ripped through the night!
Duncan swerved to the right and pulled to a stop. Several blocks away a fireball rose into the dark sky shooting out tongues of light, smoke, fire and lightening. Slowly the sounds of sirens and the crackle of flames replaced the boom of the initial explosion. Within him... Duncan had the sense that someone was lost... an immortal... an old immortal... one with power and possibly millennia of experience within him. "Methos?" Duncan wondered... but that didn't feel quite right. Slowly he pulled once more onto the avenue and followed emergency vehicles towards the site of the explosion. He wouldn't be able to get all the way there likely... but maybe he could get close enough to sense something... or discover something.
***
By the time Methos had finished his shower, dressed and returned to the second bedroom... Phillip had finished stripping the bed and likely deposited the linens in a laundry shoot down the hall. The Greek's next task would be to find some replacement bedding. He was still out of the suite.
Derrick seemed to have partially recovered. He sat on the bed clutching Eleanor, as if afraid that he would truly lose her. He eyed Methos darkly and there was a distrust of the immortal in his eyes that had not been there before.
Methos approached. The boy snarled at him. Methos stopped.
"He didn't hurt me, Derrick... it was just a trick of the light... You didn't see what you thought you saw. I'm not dead... Adam will never hurt me." Eleanor's voice softly continued to reassure Derrick... but Methos doubted that she was getting too far with him.
Methos took a deep breath, put on his best "Adam" smile and opened his hands... spreading wide his arms, "I love Eleanor, Derrick... I will never hurt her." But the boy's eyes were still filled with hate and suspicion. Methos let out a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips and turned... wanting to pace... and at the same time to leave. But he needed to stay and face this...
Behind him he heard Phillip re-enter. The Greek had managed to get some sheets from somewhere. Methos motioned to him to join them.
"Hey... Derrick! Feeling better lad? You gave us quite the scare!" Phillip's cheerful basso voice echoed oddly in the room.
Derrick managed a weak smile and clutched even tighter at Eleanor, once more burying his face in her chest.
"Let's talk," Methos finally murmured after sensing that Eleanor wanted to be alone with the boy once more... He left the room and Phillip followed.
"Now tell me what the hell's been going on!" Within him... that edge of darkness that was hovering on the edge of his consciousness was rising once more. "Who wants the crystal?"
Phillip looked at him blankly... as if he had no idea what Methos was asking. Then the light seemed to dawn in his eyes... He seemed to struggle for words and then managed to barely get out, "Cassandra."
Dumbfounded... Methos sat heavily in a sofa. His mind was a whirl of images of Aja with the crystal in her hands trying to tell him something. For some reason, he'd thought that maybe she'd been trying to get through to Phillip as well... but Cassandra? How was she involved? What did she know? "Tell me everything." Then he settled back to hear the complete story of the trio's trip across Canada, Derrick's tortured nightmares... Phillip's decision to contact the psychic for help... and their discovery of Derrick's "mortal" past. "And the crystal?"
"She told me to find it. She asked me what I knew about it... I had to tell her... I..."
Methos' shoulders sagged. "How much did you tell her."
"Just that we did steal it... me... Little Sister... and her husband."
Methos met the Greek's eyes. "Did you give her my name? Did she know I had the crystal?"
"No... only the name Lord Gray... she had that already... Somehow... I was able not to mention you... I don't think she was even thinking that you might be involved."
Methos closed his eyes and thought carefully what this might mean.
"Where is the crystal Methos?" Once more Phillip's voice had an odd edge to it... as if he had no control of the asking.
"I don't think I'd better tell you, Phillip." Methos met his friend's eyes and saw the pain the Greek felt by his unintentional betrayal.
"I really thought we had no other choice but to call her." Phillip hung his head slightly, his words barely audible. "If you could have seen the boy... listened to his screams... night after night... it was tearing Eleanor apart."
"Still... Cassandra and I are not and likely will never be friends... or even allies. Talking to her was an error." Methos' voice was tinged with bitterness. How easily everything could be lost if they weren't very careful.
At that moment the hotel suddenly shook with the ferocity of a nearby explosion!
Methos strode swiftly to the window, casting aside the drapes as he stared at the fireball in the night sky. In the bedroom he heard Eleanor wail suddenly. His breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded with the feeling of her despair. Methos raced into the room and despite Derrick's glare, swept the sobbing Eleanor into his arms.
"It's Cassius... it has to be!" She buried her face in his chest and continued to sob. From the bed where he sat Derrick glared at them both... then his face softened... he crept over to them and put his small arms about Eleanor, too.
"It's okay Ellie..." Suddenly it was the boy trying to comfort her... and with that, the impasse seemed broken... the roles reversed.
From the door... Phillip watched Methos and Derrick united in their need to comfort Eleanor. He too wanted to help... but this was best left for them. He closed the door to the bedroom and picked up the linens. Time to make that other bed up... He would likely be sleeping in there tonight. As he passed the television he considered turning it on to get some news about what had happened. Phillip chuckled. "That can wait," he thought. He already knew one of them had died... and quite spectacularly. The details of who... why... and who had done it... could wait... at least for now.
