Chapter 111

Switzerland

Duncan slowed to a stop and peered cautiously at the van parked on the side of the road. The man pacing behind the van as he talked on a cellphone waved and continued to pace.

Duncan took a deep breath. "Wait here." He squeezed Amanda's hand and climbed out, an automatic in one hand.

The pacing man shut his phone off and eyed Duncan levelly. Finally he shook his head and offered a hand. "Name's Peter Ryan. Look… I don't really know what this is all about… but my boss is on his way and he says for me to give you every assistance."

Duncan returned the handshake, inwardly assessing the man's strong grip and forthright manner. "Military Ops," he murmured.

Ryan nodded and stepped back, a flicker of recognition was reflected in his momentary smile. "I did my time."

"Same here." Duncan relaxed his grip on the automatic and peered out over the mountain valley at the unassuming chateau on the next slope. It had a steeply angled roof… and looked more like some skier's hotel than a fortified compound. A number of vehicles were parked in a lot and he noted people wandering about, apparently at ease. "Doesn't look too fortified. You're certain this is where they brought Kage?"

"This is where the vehicles that left Paris with the transponder signal came. By the time we were close enough to observe anything… they were parked on the outer edge of the lot."

"Could be a cover," Duncan sighed. If it was… if there were innocents between him and what he sought… then he feared people would die. Ellie's innate sense of location had also led straight here… but she'd indicated a much lower altitude. "I think there must be sub-levels."

"Likely. Burt's wife Amy said the facility in Paris had lower levels."

Duncan accepted the offered binoculars and scoped out the area. Behind him he heard the doors of the Land Rover open and sensed Grace approach.

"Is he here?"

"He must be," Duncan reassured her. "Now all we need is a way in… preferably without killing people." He glanced back at vehicle as Ellie climbed out and stared across at the chateau. She stepped closely to the edge and seemed focused on what she sensed from there. Derrick stood behind her… his hands resting on her shoulders… a worried look about his face.

"Is this all the people you have?" Ryan asked.

Duncan smiled. "More are on their way. I've sent for all the reinforcements I can get." He chuckled. "My people are fierce warriors."

Ryan nodded. "Burt's on his way, too. Evidently he's bringing some people with him as well."

Duncan allowed a small knowing smile to flit across his face. "Let's just hope we have the time to wait."

"I pray he's all right… that they're all… all right," Grace said softly. She shivered in the brisk mountain air.

"Well I'm ready for whatever!" Cory added cheerfully as he slammed a door and alit stretching.

Duncan snorted and then felt Amanda slip an arm into his. He patted her hand as he glanced at Alisaunne still sitting in the Rover. "Is she all right?" he asked Amanda quietly.

"As far as I can tell. She just doesn't seem like the same girl."

"No," Duncan added thoughtfully, "She doesn't."

Alisaunne waved one hand about her head as if brushing away a persistent insect… but Duncan knew that no insect was there.

Ellie shook free of Derrick and suddenly stepped closer to the edge. She turned and met Duncan's gaze. "Something is horribly wrong in there. I don't think we can wait any longer."

"We don't have a choice. We're only seven…" He gestured toward Ryan who mouthed "four" to him… "eleven people. I don't care how good we are or how motivated… We can't get in there without a lot of people dying."

Ellie closed her eyes and whimpered. Again she thrust Derrick away from her. Her hands balled into fists. After a moment she stared once more across the gulf which separated her from where she needed to be. For a moment Duncan feared she might leap off the cliff in an attempt to get there. Instead she seemed to shake off the mood and turned toward him… her green eyes almost seeming to blaze with an inner fire. "The People are dying!"

Swiftly she fought off Derrick's attempts to stop her and backed away hissing. "We have to go… now!" Ellie turned and began to run down the road.

As if suddenly aware of what was happening, Alisaunne scampered out of the Rover and clutched at Ellie as she passed. "No… You must wait!" the young woman insisted.

Ellie threw her off and resumed her chosen path. Suddenly she lifted her hands to her head and wailed! She collapsed in the road as Derrick knelt at her side and pulled her into his arms.

As Grace took Ellie's pulse, she shook her head. "I can barely sense her."

Derrick lifted his face and roared into the mountain air and Duncan feared it was already too late.

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Within the Dream

Methos wandered through the vision of the house in Scotland. It was as real as he could make it. It was real to his touch. He could trail his fingers over the wood trim and recall each scratch… each notch. He could feel the cool whitewashed walls… and smell the bread baking in the oven… the stew bubbling in the kettle over the open fire. It was a bulwark against the other visions … the ones he could not face. He clung to this reality to escape the horror of the other visions encroaching on this sanctuary. He could see Eleanor palely about the place… like a memory of some forgotten time. Sometimes she met his gaze and flickered more solidly, as if to say she was still with him… but mainly she was like a ghost… a phantom… a dream. As much as he'd wanted her here… he'd sent her away.

"Tell the others! Bring them! Before it's too late!" he'd told her sadly. Then he'd smiled at her. "Come back to me!" he'd whispered to her and smiled.

She'd laughed as she'd faded. He could still… even after all this time… hear her laughter… like tinkling bells… or was it only the wind-chime blowing in the gentle breeze outside the door.

"She is something, Brother!" Kronos snickered as he lounged in the window.

"You're dead and no part of me!" said Methos insistently, turning from him and focusing on the vision.

Kronos laughed, "But I am part of you, Brother!" He hopped from the windowsill and slapped Methos on the back as he stood regarding the flickering form of Eleanor beside the fire… combing her hair. He crossed his arms before him. "Didn't you know? You were there when the Highlander took my head. You got the smallest piece of me. We are one."

To Methos' right he heard the deep rumble of Silas. "Heh… heh… heh! The tiny one is like a small bird. Can I pet her Methos." Methos shuddered. Silas was within him… but Silas, he could control. Silas he had to control.

Caspian slunk about the room and leered over Eleanor's ghostly form. His long tongue flicked about the vision of her insubstantial form. His teeth bit as if to taste her. In his hands were knives.

"Remember, Brother," Kronos snickered. "We share everything… absolutely… everything."

"Caspian is not here!" insisted Methos.

"I brought him with me when I managed to join you. Didn't you know? We are brothers! We are one!" His laughter sounded like a brass gong clanging within Methos' head.

Outside… through the open window… Methos could here the screams of his victims as the horsemen road. Scotland faded… and the desert of the Bronze Age burned brightly in his mind.

"Join us freely brother!" Kronos whispered enticingly in Methos' ear. "Join us… and the world is ours."

Methos closed his eyes and focused within him… they'd breached this memory… he needed another one.

Opening his eyes he stood on rain-slick obsidian while in the distance a volcano spewed forth the essence of the earth and sprayed the lightning-lit night with plumes of molten fire.

"The quickening of the earth as it is assaulted," the voice said sadly.

Methos glanced down at Cassandra huddled on the rocks. "I have no memory of this place," he said, shaking his head.

"Yes you do. We all do. This was what it was like in the beginning. This is the world our forebears created for us."

Methos stared around and saw the standing stones in the flash of the lightning. About them ranged the bloodied corpses of the People.

He understood. This was the world he and the others had inherited after the great slaying… when the covenant of the People with earth, ocean, fire, and sky was first broken. Rain splashed about him… sizzling on the hot rocks of his feet.

He crouched beside Cassandra. "I'm sorry," he said simply. "I know it's not enough… that it can never be enough… but I am sorry."

Cassandra let out a long breath. "That dream was not what happened. The truth lies somewhere between your indifference… and my terrors.

Methos nodded.

Cassandra met his gaze and reached out with one hand to lace her long slender fingers in his. "We are one. If we are to rise above this… if we are to rebuild the world… we must accept all that we are… and all that we were. We must acknowledge our fears, reach for our dreams, and face our shortcomings."

Methos nodded. He rose. Cassandra rose with him. "Together we must end this before our world is destroyed," he murmured.

Cassandra squeezed his hand.

Methos felt Eleanor slipping around him… hidden beneath his clothes… softly caressing his skin like cool silk in the heat of this reality. He smiled as he felt her lips brush his.

"We can't stay here," he said to both of them. "We have to face them on their plain… where they think they have the power."

Slowly the nightmare world faded and he found himself once more in the idyllic farmhouse in Scotland. Eleanor was still with him… Cassandra still gripped his hand. His brothers turned gleefully to face him.

"We are one, Brothers," Methos said in invitation. "We share everything."

They laughed raucously as they approached him… their eyes leering greedily at Cassandra and Eleanor. Methos closed his eyes and pulled them within him where they struggled for freedom and supremacy. Dreams of carnage… dreams of power… dreams of depravity washed over him. One by one he absorbed them and let the others help. The two immortal women were with him… their strength buoyed him… and kept him grounded. Neither turned away or shrieked in horror as they were assaulted by memories both real and imagined. They faced their fears and together they were stronger than they'd been alone.

As if in understanding, he felt the minds of the others… lost in the dream come to understand this as well. They reached out to strengthen him and to gain strength. Soon they ranged around him. All the others who like him were lost in the nightmare… some friend… some foe. "We are one!" They lent him their strength as he lent them his.

The farmhouse faded and Methos found himself in a mockup of the Roman Coliseum. In the galleries the faces of his victims sneered and mocked him. In one hand was a broadsword… in the other… a round shield. On the shield was an emblazoned goddess… the profile of Aja in bronze relief. Methos turned as a great shout and roaring applause went up from the gallery.

Into the arena stepped a man whose face he'd once seen … a blonde man, thin, hawk-like. In one hand was the trident… in the other the net. He raised his arms to the cheers of the crowd. He was their champion. He would avenge their deaths… and the deaths of all those who'd ever lived and died. He turned to face Methos and smiled with a bow.

"You are mortal," Methos told him. "You have no place here."

"But I do, Old One. It is high time we met," the other said as he began to circle. "I have long admired you… but a new day has arrived… and a new order will be born from this our meeting. At the end… only one of us will remain."

"You don't belong here," Methos insisted again as he crouched… letting the war-like Silas snarl and shift in feints about the arena. Above him, Methos still saw lightning streak across the sky. Kronos urged him to unleash Caspian. Methos shook his head, attempting to clear it and focus.

His opponent laughed. "I am what will remain when you are dead." He cast the net letting it settle over Methos… he pulled sharply.

Methos found his sword arm entangled. He pushed the shield upward and swirled it… attempting to catch the net about it. He pulled. With his sword he slashed at the net and hacked at the fibers to destroy it. But the fibers were like steel and would not sever. His sword was useless against the net ensnaring him.

Pivoting sharply he dragged the net with his shield and entangled it further… while attempting to push it off of him. His opponent circled… pulling the net ever tighter.

He let Caspian roar as he suddenly rushed his opponent. If he could not get free of the net… then he'd not try… he'd use the net to entangle his opponent. The man leaped swiftly to one side and thrust the trident deeply into Methos' back. From somewhere… as he fell to his knees and reached to pull the trident free… he thought he heard Eleanor scream.