Chapter 81

It was still dark when Derrick climbed out of bed and padded softly down the hall. He paused outside Duncan's door and listened to the snoring. No problem there! From Methos' and Eleanor's room he could still hear some rustling and low laughter. He grinned. "Did those two ever sleep?" He backed away and then stood silently in case he'd been detected. Evidently not! Satisfied, Derrick headed downstairs and into the study where Methos and Duncan had worked far into the evening.

Although he'd hung around a bit... he really hadn't gotten a look at how far they'd gotten. It wasn't that he actually knew what they needed to do... or what the answers were... just that they were there. Everything was there. He did remember that.

He settled into the desk chair and opened the laptop. When it lit up, he carefully began checking the progress of the "game." The two men hadn't really paid any attention to that today and Derrick saw nothing in what was there, that helped him remember anything of use.

From the glow of the computer screen he tried to look at the papers they had spread out. He shifted through them and stared at the one Methos thought was a map. Derrick nodded... it was a map... but to read it they needed the coordinates. For the life of him... Derrick couldn't recall what they were... nor where they were.

At a snap of a twig outside, Derrick stiffened. Then the boy reached over and closed the laptop, leaving him in darkness. He could sense no one... no threat... but then he wasn't really an immortal yet. Aja had said that part of it would take time. He was still years away from that... at least he hoped so.

Silently Derrick stood and crossed to the window. He stared out at the yard and tried to feel and listen for anything out of the ordinary... but he felt nothing.

With a sense of unease, the boy returned to his room and settled once more into bed. He had a feeling sleep might prove elusive this night.

***

By mid-morning Duncan made the decision to head to Waterloo to see what he could find. He asked Derrick to come along, but the boy shrugged and seemed disinterested. Duncan wondered if he'd been sleeping all right. Derrick looked tired and a little pale this morning. His usual grin and high spirits seem dampened somehow. The Highlander had thought a trip to the battlefield might shake some memory loose if there were one to be shaken... but perhaps another time.

"Take my vehicle," Methos said handing him the keys. "From what Eleanor tells me... there could be quite a load if it is all there, and I don't think that Ferrari will hold too much."

"Just don't drive it while I'm gone." Duncan smirked handing him Amanda's keys. "If you wreck it... Amanda will have my head."

"Be still my beating heart!" came Methos' sardonic reply complete with smirk.

Duncan pulled out of the driveway.

As he left, Derrick rubbed his hands over the Ferrari and grinned. "Shall we see how fast she goes?"

Methos considered it. "It would be fun. Maybe later." He chuckled at the thought of MacLeod sputtering at some slight damage to the car and what he could say to the Highlander to really rub it in.

Eleanor came out of the house wearing the over-sized jacket over her flannel shirt. "Derrick! Let's take a walk!" She reached out for the boy and blew Methos a kiss. "I've been cooped up too long... like Phillip I want some fresh air!" She waved at him over her shoulder as she and the boy took off down the gravel drive toward the road.

Methos watched them go doing a little kick routine like a couple of kids. Eleanor definitely felt better. That meant they could leave here as early as tomorrow. Good! He was nervous about remaining here much longer. The threat that Cassandra might pose was unacceptable. Methos stared after the duo and then glanced around at the nearby woods. Soberly he went back inside to work on the research again. He really wanted to get a handle on it so that he could leave most of it in MacLeod's hands. Methos wanted to get out of here before much longer and vanish with Eleanor and Derrick. With his home in London gone... he saw little reason to keep up the pretense of being "on point" as he thought of it. Let MacLeod be the center of the Watchers' attention for a while. The Highlander was made for it.

Although he'd originally planned for Phillip to take Eleanor and Derrick to Niebos where he could join them occasionally, he'd seen the sadness in Phillip's eyes after they'd killed Nestor. His friend needed some time alone right now. Besides, Methos found he was strangely reluctant to bid Eleanor adieu this time. Even with the bond and their being able to sense one another no matter where they were, he didn't really wish to be away from her. There was something about his choosing her survival over his own that pulled at him. He wanted to stay close to her to be certain that when the moment came... he could save her.

He was busy entering some of the new data onto the computer and using a map program to try different sets of coordinates to get the rough hand-drawn map to work. Part of his problem was he didn't even know what scale it was... or if it were even drawn to scale.

He felt an approaching presence and the sound of the front door closing. Assuming Eleanor had returned for something he sent a particularly suggestive image in her direction and was surprised that she was confused... she and Derrick were still on their way down the gravel path. Startled Methos looked up as Cassandra came running in at him swinging the great sword.

Methos fell backwards from the chair to both avoid the swing and to be able to grab the chair to use as a shield. He lifted it before him and backed away. "Cassandra... you do not want to do this!"

"Don't I?" She slashed at the chair. One leg was sheared away.

Like a lion tamer, Methos circled about her as he feinted and blocked her movements. Finally, seeing an opening, he shoved the chair in her direction as she swung again. He managed to get her partially caught in the three remaining legs and shoved her against the nearest wall. "Drop the sword, Cassandra... I am not your enemy!"

Cassandra's eyes blazed as green as he'd ever seen Eleanor's. Strange... he'd never really noticed that her eyes had been green before... or perhaps it had never mattered to him. "I will have justice!" She screamed as she attempted to raise the sword again. Once more he shoved the chair against her so that her arms were pinned.

"Justice? Cassandra... you are fighting a battle that ended thousands of years ago. We were different people then. The world has changed. We've changed. Why won't you accept that?"

She spat in his face.

Behind him Methos felt Eleanor coming at a run. Derrick was following closely behind her.

"Stay back!" he yelled at them. "Stay out of this!" Then he focused on Cassandra seeking some way to reach her through the madness that had taken hold of her. Vindictive, yes... she was vindictive... but this was more than that... This was the madness of the Ancients from that first slaughter of the people. She was a victim of that ancient vision that clung to the sword and whispered only of what it had once known. He knew it for what it was now... and it no longer called to him. He'd already lived that time through his bond with Eleanor. Together they had chosen to accept the distant past but to refuse to let it rule them any longer.

"Cassandra," Methos said softly. "Put the sword down."

She calmed for a moment, as if seeing him as he was now and not as he had been. For the first time, she seemed to really see him. Cassandra stopped struggling. She lowered the sword.

Once he was certain she was calm, Methos slowly pulled the chair back and backed away. He focused all of his attention on her... ready to move once more if she tried again.

Cassandra lifted one hand to her head and shook it slightly as if to banish something only she could hear. Methos knew that feeling. It had taken him years to ignore that insistent voice. How many had he killed with it? How many times had it been easier to lop off a head... even a mortal one... than deal with real justice. He glanced momentarily at Eleanor recalling the band of outlaws he'd slaughtered with it for what they'd done to her. And his excesses had only driven her away from him.

"We can help you Cassandra... if you let us." Eleanor reached out her hand and took a step toward Cassandra. The psychic glared at her... suddenly flexing the great sword in her hands once more.

Methos tossed the chair away and knelt. This was the moment. He knew it. If he failed... Eleanor would die.

***

Duncan MacLeod braked to a sudden stop. A voice whispered in his head urgently. "Go back! Now!" Quickly he turned the car around and headed back the way he'd come. He didn't even try to figure it out. He could sense the desperation and urgency in the voice. He floored the accelerator and raced back to the estate, praying that this time... he would be in time.