Part Four: In the Eye of the Storm

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for you sanity. How you tried to set them free!
They would not listen, they did not know how; perhaps they'll listen now.

from Vincent (Starry, Starry Night) by Don MacLean

Chapter 91

Paris, Le Blues Bar

Amy hung up the phone and looked across the office at Grace Chandel. "The ambulance is on its way."

Grace nodded. She'd had very little to say in the time since Kage… John Kirin had left. Amy mentally corrected his name in her mind. Although he was still filed under Kage in the Watcher Chronicles by Watchers who still wondered if he were truly reformed or simply executing a scam of enormous proportions upon mortals… Amy had realized he was truly transformed. And so did Grace.

Grace Chandel had been a midwife and later a doctor in her long immortal life, seeking always to find a way to ease the suffering of those around her… mortal or immortal. That she'd paid for her life by a series of attachments to men who could not fully support the life she chose… whether they were mortal or immortal… had been one of the crosses of her life, Amy knew. Finally she'd found someone… and now she'd had to let him go. She'd had to let him try to save the lives of others as she had often done, even if it meant his death.

Now Amy needed to focus on what Joe would want her to do. She'd called Burt's people and given them the transponder code for their GPS. They'd reported they had a fix and that Kirin had evidently been taken into the main Paris facility.

"A couple of us saw him enter. Your man walked in quietly." There was a clipped tone to Peter Ryan's voice. He and Phil Roberts had been close friends. They'd started working this gig because of loyalty to Burt… and because it was mainly surveillance. Right now… Peter was as angry as he'd ever been. But he was a professional. He'd do the job he was paid to do. Burt had wanted them to stay out of sight and wait for the immortals to be moved. They'd hang back… and depend on the transponder to help them locate the main facility. They hoped no one in the Watcher's group would check that particular code… Amy's code… for the next few hours.

"Any word from Burt?" Ryan asked.

"None… but he's likely moving fast."

"If he needs us… we'll drop everything here."

Amy had bitten her lip. Mentally she'd yelled… Yes! Drop everything! Get to Liverpool! Save my family! Aloud she'd only murmured her thanks.

Now she held Joe's fevered hand and sighed. What else was there? She'd called Joe's old Watcher buddies… the ones he'd played poker and bocce ball with all these years. They were organizing their people… interviewing Watchers they knew to find out what they knew… and where they stood. Some were involved without knowing they were involved. Some were almost oblivious as to what was going on. And some… were in agreement with the new order. They had to be careful or hit squads would be visiting them. Word was out that some were already mobilized in the States… but then… that was the gun-toting Americans! This was France! Here they'd acquiesced to the wrong powers in World War II… here they would not let it happen again.

Everyone had indicated sympathy and concern for Joe, and promised to follow through on everything.

"I'll unlock the door," Grace said, rising and making her way to the entrance of the bar. She peered through the windows. She could see no one Watching… and there were passersby on the street. Surely they were safe! She unlocked the door but left the closed sign on. After all, it was early. No one would expect a bar to be open yet.

"Grace!" Amy called suddenly. Grace turned and rushed back into Joe's office.

The Watcher's eyes were open and he was gasping for breath. His face nearly purple, he shook Amy's hand away feebly.

"Be quiet Dad! Help's on the way! We're taking care of everything… just rest."

Grace checked his pulse. She didn't like any of the signs she was seeing… and she still had no idea what to do. At least they had the vials. A proper lab could analyze the serum… but would it be in time?

The bell over the front door jingled. Grace looked back and Amy quietly pulled a gun.

Into the office a tall young man with sandy hair walked tentatively. "Joe?"

Amy hid the weapon under her skirt.

The young man stopped and stared at the three. He'd evidently been crying. Tear tracks covered his smudged face.

Grace's eyes widened slightly. "Can we help you?"

"I need to talk to Joe,"

From the sofa, Joe coughed and reached out. His words were unintelligible.

The young man crossed the room and knelt down beside him. "She's hurt Joe… she needs an immortal and she needs one now. Please! Help us!"

Amy stared at the young man, "Who are you?"

The young man began sobbing. "I can't do it! I don't dare kill myself! What if I'm wrong? What if I don't come back? Joe, she needs someone!"

"My father cannot help you right now," Amy began. "We're waiting on an ambulance."

"Just tell me how to find one… Joe I can't sense them… I don't know who anyone is anymore." He clutched at Joe's arm.

Joe nodded and grimaced. "Grace… go."

The boy stared at Grace thoughtfully. His brows knotted as he evidently tried to think. Then his face brightened. "Grace… Grace Chandel. Eleanor needs you." His voice sounded oddly accented suddenly… and deeper than before. He shook his head and cried out.

Grace stared at him. She raised a hand to his shoulder and then cupped his chin. "Darius?" she whispered.

"No!" the boy shouted insistently. "I'm not him! I'm not him!" He grabbed his head. "Go away! This is your fault! You did this! You did this!" His voice trailed away.

Grace sat back. "I knew an Eleanor many years ago. She was one of Darius' students. I last saw her in Africa about ten years ago. She introduced me to John."

The boy nodded.

Outside the ambulance pulled up.

"Go with him then Grace. I'll go with Joe to the hospital." Amy reached for the vials. "I'll take care of it." She glanced at her father who was nodding slightly…

The attendants were wheeling a gurney in. Grace rose and stood aside while they took Joe's vitals. She gave them what she knew.

Beside her the boy pulled at her arm. "We have to go! She'll die!"

Grace nodded. She finished her report swiftly and stood aside while Joe was wheeled to the ambulance. Amy climbed in with him.

The doors shut and Grace understood clearly how torn Amy was in her movements. She was torn as well between being with John, helping Dawson and… she turned to stare at the young man. "Darius was my very good friend."

The boy nodded. He held out his hand and said in his own voice, "Come with me! Hurry!"

He pulled her along until reaching an alley which he ducked into and approached a sewer grate. Grace smiled. "I found Darius climbing out from a grate like that once."

The boy's lower lip trembled and he nodded. Pulling the grate off, he set it aside and lowered her down. Then he hung from the rim and pulled the grate back over the hole and dropped to the ground.

"Aren't they usually locked?" Grace said.

The boy nodded. "Yeah! I guess so. Ellie musta undone this one to keep an eye on Joe's bar."

He averted his eyes and turned into the darkness.

"Can you see where you are going?" she asked trying to find a firm surface to walk on.

The boy halted and shrugged. "I guess it's just one of those things I know without knowing. C'mon!" He led the way and Grace followed. She could hear him counting steps and passages in that clipped Germanic accent that reminded her of Darius. The priest had never explained what he was doing in the sewers that day… and he'd asked Grace to keep his secret… his eyes twinkling and a sheepish smile on his face. She'd kept it and told no one.

About half an hour later, the boy stopped and looked around. Grace could just barely see him in the dim sewer, lit by occasional patches of light that streamed in through the various grates. He looked around as if lost. His shoulders sagged and he appeared to be mumbling to himself. Then he straightened and took the left-hand passage… striding confidently along the soft soil heaped at the base of the stone walls.

Grace could here rats chittering in the dark and prayed that nothing untoward would happen down here… that they would leave this hellish place soon.

The boy approached an alcove and reached back for her. "We're here," he said simply.

"Where is here?"

"You'll see, c'mon." He pushed open a wall area and motioned her in. Then he shut it. Blackness was everywhere. "Watch your step," he said grasping Grace's hand and helping her up a long set of stone stairs evidently cut into one wall. At the top he backed her against the stone. "Don't move."

Grace heard what sounded like metal and stone rubbing and resisting movement. Then an opening in the darkness appeared. Through it, she saw daylight.

The boy gestured for her to go through.

She did so and gasped slightly. For a moment she felt as though she'd stepped out of the real world and into some sylvan glade that existed in a single moment of time. Grass grew on the earth, moss covered some of the rocks, and ivy grew up the three story stone wall that surrounded the glade on all four sides. Trees arched above them, reaching to the light. Through the branches Grace made out what looked like screening. Evidently this place was even hidden from above. In the center of the glade was a small spring surrounded by flat stones… where one might sit.

She turned to the boy. "What is this place?"

He shrugged as he shut the stone entrance and locked it with a chock. "Some place Eleanor and Darius watched over."

He grabbed Grace's hand and pulled her to a set of narrow stone steps that ran up the wall. At the top was a wooden door that faced a small landing. He opened the door and showed her in.

The room was filled with bare shelves. A sleeping bag was rumpled in one corner and a stack of books and an old laptop computer sat on a plain wooden table.

"You live here?" she asked.

The boy paused and stared at her. He shook his head. Then he opened the wooden door to another room.

Inside the room, Grace could make out a figure on a narrow bed… Eleanor evidently.

She entered and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Help her," he said.

Grace felt the immortal's cool brow and noted her fluttering eyes… as if she were dreaming. The fingers of both hands moved desperately back and forth as if she were signing something. Her breathing was even. Grace felt Eleanor's pulse. It was strong and steady.

"I don't think anything's wrong," she said.

"But… she doesn't wake up! It's like last time!"

Grace sat back. "Last time?"

"With Darius! He managed to save her!"

Grace gazed deeply into the boy's blue eyes. She sighed. Darius and all he was had been lost to them almost twenty years ago. Over the centuries, immortals had theorized as to what happened to the quickenings of immortals who died a permanent death, when no other immortal was there to receive the quickening. She had heard many stories. Several suggested that sometimes… if a quickening was lost… it returned in the form of another immortal. This boy was less than twenty if she was any judge of his age. Could something of Darius have managed to return in the form of this boy? "Do you have a name?" she asked calmly.

"Derrick…" he shrugged. "It's the name I remembered when she found me." He gestured toward Eleanor… tears once more springing to his eyes. He caressed the side of her face then met Grace's. "Don't let her die." He took hold of one of Grace's hands and moved it to rest on Eleanor's abdomen.

Grace gasped… feeling momentarily as if some part of who she was, had been drawn away.

"She's always been so weak. She needs an immortal to survive."

Grace smiled and continued to rest her hand there. If it comforted the boy… she would comply. She remembered the first time she'd met Eleanor centuries ago… another immortal mid-wife calling herself Marie at the time. Grace had come to Paris early in her immortality, hoping to find a way to continue the life she'd known somehow… without the need for killing. Marie… Eleanor as she had learned much later when she'd heard Darius call her that… was the priest's student. She'd introduced them.

With their help… Grace had found the middle ground where she could be both healer and immortal. Her kills could be counted on one hand… but the children she'd helped bring into this world… and their descendants… numbered in the thousands… if not millions.

"Perhaps she'd like some of that fresh spring water," she suggested, smiling at Derrick… strange how even his name evoked memories of her old friend.

The boy knotted his brow and slowly nodded. "Immortals don't need it… but it couldn't hurt." He rushed out of the room. Grace could hear him rummage for a glass or a cup… and then she heard the door as he exited the rooms and returned to the glade.

Just then Eleanor gasped and opened her eyes. For a moment she seemed confused as to where she was… She glanced around with a satisfied smile on her face as if looking for someone. Grace knew that kind of smile. It was one a woman wore when thinking of the man she loved. Then Eleanor focused on Grace.

"Grace? What are you doing here?" She raised up on her elbows.

"Your young friend was afraid you were dying and came to fetch me." Swiftly she explained how the boy had come to Joe's place looking for an immortal and Grace had been there.

Eleanor shook her head. The secretive smile returned to her face. "I'm fine. We're immortal, Grace… we don't get sick."

Derrick re-entered the room with a jar of water. He brightened when he saw Eleanor. "I knew it! I knew she could help!" He knelt at her bedside and placed the jar of water on the old trunk.

Eleanor laughed as she lay back and reached to cup his chin. "I'm fine, Derrick. Whatever made you think I was dying?"

"He said something about last time… with Darius." Grace wondered if there had been something more intimate between Darius and Eleanor. She smiled. She'd never noted anything. But once Grace had attempted to kiss Darius… centuries ago… only for him to hold her away as he chuckled. He'd shaken his head and mumbled something about the choices he'd made for his life not including that. Grace had thought his calling was for a single lifetime… and had been surprised that he'd remained in it for all the time she'd known him. His gentleness and his humor had often been a warm bulwark against the mortal world.

It was to Darius that she had gone when her last mortal lover, Paul had been killed. After Duncan MacLeod had dealt with Paul's killer, her former immortal lover Carlos Sendaro, she'd kissed Darius once more as she'd left… some part of her wishing he would leave his life… and find love. Grace smiled. Perhaps love had always been here. It would certainly explain why the two of them had remained in Paris. She sighed thoughtfully, as she realized that something else seemed to have been between them. If they had been lovers… then surely he would never have remained here.

Eleanor was silent, still cupping Derrick's chin. "I think it's time for the truth Derrick. I need to know everything you remember."

The boy shrugged. "It's all fading. But I do remember when Alisaunne was born now."

"Alisaunne?" Grace asked. She sat back thoughtfully. Finally she managed to whisper… "You've had a child? You gave birth to a child?"

Eleanor nodded. "I have no memory of it." She sat up and crossed her arms. "Tell me everything, Derrick. I want all of the truth… Leave nothing out. Why did Darius steal her and tell me nothing about her? His letter only told me what he did… it didn't give me his reasons."

The boy nodded and told her what he remembered, while Grace listened in wonder. When he'd finished his story, Grace simply stared.

Just then an explosion rocked the street. Grace stared out the window. Eleanor climbed from the bed… staggering a bit as if she truly were completely drained of strength. Derrick grabbed her and helped her to the window, then stood behind the two women.

Electricity arced about St. Julien Le Pauvre. A blue light and the smell of ozone permeated the air as the windows of the church shattered.

"Quickening," whispered Grace in horror. "A quickening on Holy Ground!" The floor beneath their feet began to tremble.