The wind blew back Robyn's blonde hair as her shaking hands reached into her jacket pocket and drew a black mask. Hesitantly, she stared at it. Jon's still out there, she thought. He could still be hunting her. What if he gets hurt -- or even killed? I ought to do what's right for my brothers and slay her now. But to rush in? Without armor? If I wait, she might escape. And who knows where she'll turn up next? I could try to approach her as Dominique Destine, but she won't fall for the same trick twice. Nay, Dunbar was right: "Why should the world be over-wise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while We wear the mask." With a sigh, she slipped the black cloth over her face. Once again, she reached into her pocket again and took out a small object.
It was a handheld electron pistol. Jason had told her to keep the weapon and mask as 'daily reminders of how my stubbornness blinded me.'
Robyn began to stalk her prey.
Demona suddenly spun around, as if she sensed the human's presence. "Your impulsiveness will cost you your life, Huntress." Her lips curled into a sneer. "Or should I say, Robyn?"
"You...knew?" Robyn stammered.
"Not at first. But then I noticed the similarities between the Huntress and Robin Correy. So I hacked into some computer databases. Today is a wonderful age of technology, wouldn't you say? I've been around for over a thousand years. Did you really think I'd be that stupid? I left that disk for you to find. The triple-encryption was to buy me enough time to get to the cathedral. When the plague came, you and your brothers would know who caused it."
"You underestimated us."
"Not really. I underestimated Goliath."
Robyn drew the particle gun. "Attack me if you dare, Demon."
Demona's eyes flashed as she lunged forward. Robyn fired the pistol. The blue beam struck the gargoyle at the shoulder.
***************************************************
Carmella stood on the curb. Why was Jason Canmore so special, improving quality of life aside? Freud was right, she thought silently. I've been subconsciously trying to heal him so I could see him outside of our patient-therapist relationship. He is what I want in a man, and there's no way we could be together now. It'd be unprofessional of me. But where would I get the money for the surgery? Or someone skilled enough to perform it? And even if I could, he'd never feel the same way about me.
She hadn't noticed a car a few yards from her had stalled. The engine was dead. The one behind it, an expensive looking Newsmobile, couldn't stop, so it swerved to the right. The car tilted, the right wheels rolling onto the sidewalk.
Brendan Yale slammed on the brakes. To his horror, the car wasn't stopping.
"Brendan!" screamed his wife, Margot. "Stop!"
"I can't," he yelled, stomping on the brake pedal.
"I thought you took it to the mechanic!"
"I thought you had!" Brendan closed his eyes, wondering if the impact of Auto vs. Ped sounded like a crunch or a splat.
By now, Carmella had noticed the black car steering straight toward her. She tried to run, but was frozen in fear. I wonder if I'll get my picture in the paper: Therapist Run Down by ADA's Husband." Suddenly, she felt a whoosh of air. The car and street were receding -- she was in the air!
Below, the car finally slowed to a stop.
Margot clutched her chest. "That was a close one, right, Brendan?" No answer. "Brendan?"
Carmella realized that she was in the arms of a rather plump blue creature. Too startled to scream or gasp, she let out a whimper.
"Calm down," a raven-haired being whispered. "We're not going to hurt you."
"I tried to move, but I couldn't," Carmella moaned. "This is so embarrassing."
"Where do you want to land?" A greenish-gold gargoyle asked.
"You gargoyles aren't bad at all," stammered the therapist. "Just misunderstood." She played absently with the platinum charm on her necklace. It was a gift from her great-grandmother, whom she barely knew. The nugget was large, with minimal carving. It looked like a winged creature curled up. "How grateful I am...is beyond words."
Broadway landed on the rooftop and set his passenger gently down.
Angela smiled. "Those words are enough."
"We're just doing what we were put here to do," Lexington added.
*********************************************************
Macbeth felt a dull pain in his knee. He shrugged and walked a few more steps forward. The pain intensified. "Either Demona's close or rain's coming," he mumbled. A few more feet. Pain was now ripping through his side. "It's Demona." The immortal limped forward, following the pain. He climbed a nearby fire escape stairs.
Demona was facing his direction, fighting a young blonde. The woman's back was to him. Demona glanced ahead, then kicked her opponent off herself, and leaped toward Macbeth, knocking him over.
"Looks like we're picking up where we left off," Macbeth sneered, staggering back and falling over the fire escape rail. Quick as lightning, his hands gripped the iron bar.
Demona snickered. "Remember when this was reversed?" She grabbed her enemy's hands and pried them from the bar remorselessly.
Just like Father, Robyn realized as the lifeless thud came. "You monster!" Ripping off her mask, she ran down the fire escape stairs.
In her haste, she failed to notice Demona was crumpling, as if her bones had suddenly snapped. The gargoyle bit back her groans of pain as she struggled to crawl to safer ground.
Robyn glanced at her savior. He's rather handsome, whoever he is. She felt his wrist, checking for a pulse. Still there. He's still alive!
Macbeth groaned wearily as he struggled to sit up. The impact had probably broken most of his bones.
"I'll find an ambulance," the blonde said, getting up.
"That won't be necessary," the immortal puffed, trying to catch his breath.
"You could have internal bleeding, you stubborn old--"
"Old? How old do you think I am?"
Robyn looked at the stranger. Though his hair and beard were gray and his face was creased in wrinkles, he didn't seem that old. Especially the voice. He could have just aged prematurely, she thought. And it doesn't detract from his appearance. "Forty-eight?"
"Thirty-five, actually." It was partially true. Macbeth had been thirty-five when the spell was cast. His youth had been magically transferred to Demona, but he had never physically aged since then. The centuries didn't affect him any more than they affected the Peter-Pan gargoyle.
"Thirty-five, or not, what were you thinking?"
Macbeth laughed. "I might ask you the same question..."
"Robyn."
"Lennox Macduff."
"Well, Mr. Macduff, I'm calling an ambulance whether you like it or not."
**********************************************************************************
Carmella entered her apartment, locking the door behind her. The day's mail was her hand. Absently, she flipped through it. A couple bills. A late birthday card from Carson.
The last envelope was intriguing. It was white, business sized. The return address was the headquarters of Xanatos Enterprises.
"Why on earth would the richest man in New York want to write me?" She ripped open the envelope and unfolded a single piece of paper. It was dove-gray stock paper, stamped with a gold X at the top. Top of the line, expensive stationary. The note was handwritten in black ink:
"Miss DeZevalda,
I apologize for the suddenness, but I have a proposal for you. Do me a favor, and name your price. Believe me, I can afford it. All you have to do is..."
Carmella stopped reading at that point and laughed. "He can't be serious!"
She continued to read:
"Be at the Eyrie Building at 10:00 tomorrow with the items. My assistant, Owen Burnett, will meet you in the front lobby. Believe me when I say 'What I want, I get'. Your obedient, D. Xanatos."
***********************************
Robyn hung up the payphone and headed back to where she had left Macbeth. "The paramedics--" She stopped. The alley was empty. "He couldn't have gotten up and walked away. I must be losing it."
********************************
"Is the water temperature to your liking. sir?" asked Owen.
His master was in his nightly bubble bath. Only Xanatos' head was visible above the waterline. His soaking brown hair clung to his head. A yellow rubber ducky floated on the water.
"It's fine, Owen."
"It's a shame Governor DeZevalda is vetoing Bill 78."
"Don't apologize. It passed. That's the important thing. I know Carson, and I know his weakness. It's all a matter of waiting until the time was right, and then...striking." He looked around. "Where's my toy sailboat?"
***********************************
At the same time, Lexington, Broadway, and Angela were gliding home.
The girl looked down and something caught her eye. "You two go ahead. I'll catch up." She descended.
It was Demona, limping. A sheet of paper fell from her white skirt and landed on the ground.
Angela didn't dare approach -- her father would be furious. But she couldn't help sympathizing. Her mother looked badly hurt.
The paper landed at the raven-haired gargess' feet. She picked it up and unfolded it. It was written in English letters, but they were in some sort of code. Each letter must have stood for another one. Angela tucked it in her dress, and climbed up a building, then glided toward the castle.
*******************************
Robyn threw open the door and slammed it behind her.
Jason was lying on the couch, watching TV. "You could have knocked."
"This is my home too."
"So where have you been? I was about to go looking for you."
The thought of Jason patrolling the streets of Manhattan in a wheelchair made Robyn smile. "I saw the Demon."
"You what?"
"We fought."
Jason's blue eyes flashed. "You could have been killed."
"Well, what would you have done?"
"I-I don't know."
"She's still out and none of us are safe until she's gone. Anyway, Jason. Let me finish. I was saved. I know this sounds really stupid and soap-operaish, but it was a really tall and handsome man."
"In a black trenchcoat?" joked her brother.
"As a matter of fact, yes. He seemed ready to face the Demon. It was as if he knew her. And here's the funny thing -- he was thrown off the side of a four-story building! And survived! Then I went to call 9-1-1, and he was gone!"
"Maybe you have a guardian angel."
"First you mention ghosts and now angels?"
"Did you get a name?"
"He called himself Lennox Macduff, but that just sounds phony."
"Gray hair and beard?"
"Yes, how'd you know?"
"He was on Nightwatch a few weeks ago. Really told that pain Margot Yale off. They were debating about gargoyles."
"I guess I am to blame for their exposure, but what did he say?"
"That gargoyles won't attack humans unless provoked--" There was a knock on the door.
Robyn got up to answer it.
It was Elisa. "Hey, guys. My shift just ended. I thought I'd pop in on my way home."
"Robyn met a guy," Jason blurted out.
"Shut up!" squeaked Robyn. "It was for Jon's sake--"
Elisa's face clouded over. "I know where Jon is. The pen."
"Can you take us to visit him?" Jason asked.
Robyn glanced at the window. The sun was beginning to rise. "Later today?"
Elisa's expression was pained. "I have to be honest. I can take you to visit. But he's not the Jon you remember."
ang do you mean?" inquired Jason, worried.
"He's changed his name. Changed the way he looks. And he's dangerous. The fact that he's lost his mind may have something to do with it."
"I don't care," declared Robyn. "He's still our brother."
"OK," agreed Elisa. "I'll take you to see him. But only because I have a brother and sister myself."
***********************************************
Macbeth had returned home. Some of his wounds still ached, and he could barely walk -- but they would heal in a few hours. "I still miss the tears and laughter." But yet, it didn't hurt as much as it had earlier. As if the holes in his heart had each been filled partway. He crawled into his king-sized four-poster bed and slept soundly.
************************************************
(Hours later)
Carmella clutched the 8x11 envelope as she went through the doors of the glass-and-steel Eyrie Building. This better not be a joke. She glanced at her watch. 9:55.
Owen was waiting in the front lobby. "Miss DeZevalda, Mr. Xanatos will see you now."
The therapist raised her eyebrows at the lackey's stone fist, but she wordlessly followed through the floor and into the elevator. They exited and walked down the corridor.
"This is a gorgeous castle," she breathed at last.
"It was originally built in the Scottish highlands during the tenth century," informed Owen. "Mr. Xanatos had it disassembled and rebuilt here."
"I almost can feel energy coming out of these walls. Which is weird, since I don't usually believe in the supernatural. There are forces all around, converging in this one place. This is surely sacred ground."
The butler was silent and emotionless as they reached the office.
Xanatos sat at his desk. "Miss--"
"I'm nobody's miss."
"Do you have it?"
Carmella gripped the envelope. "Yes."
"Now, what does your heart desire? A diamond ring? A cruise to the Bahamas? A cottage in Vermont? A new wardrobe?"
"Does this corporation dabble in making cyborgs?"
"Is Walt dead? Owen, get Miss DeZevalda the file on Jacob Furman."
"Yes, sir." The assistant stepped out of the room and returned with a folder.
Carmella opened it. There were two photographs on top of a stack of papers. The first was of a brown-haired young man. The second was of the same man, with most of his body -- including his arms and legs -- replaced with metal. The first paper was of medical data. The other sheets were descriptions of a complicated weaponry and function system based on the spinal cord and silicon chips implanted in certain sites. "If you can turn this ordinary guy into a one-man arsenal, surely you can heal a paralytic. That's it. I want you to repair the spinal cord of one of my parents with a cybernetic system like this. Except for the weapons and only for the waist down. A patient of mine needs it."
"You drive a hard bargain, but your offer is fair. Now for your end." Xanatos took the folder and flipped through its contents. "And you do deliver. Excellent." He shook Carmella's hand. "I'll have my best cybernetics specialist referred to Manhattan General."
"Thank you, Mr. Xanatos. I can find my own way out."
Once she was gone, Owen looked at Xanatos quizzically. "Is this a plan you've neglected to mention?"
"I'll explain on the way. Get the helicopter. We're going to Albany."
TBC
It was a handheld electron pistol. Jason had told her to keep the weapon and mask as 'daily reminders of how my stubbornness blinded me.'
Robyn began to stalk her prey.
Demona suddenly spun around, as if she sensed the human's presence. "Your impulsiveness will cost you your life, Huntress." Her lips curled into a sneer. "Or should I say, Robyn?"
"You...knew?" Robyn stammered.
"Not at first. But then I noticed the similarities between the Huntress and Robin Correy. So I hacked into some computer databases. Today is a wonderful age of technology, wouldn't you say? I've been around for over a thousand years. Did you really think I'd be that stupid? I left that disk for you to find. The triple-encryption was to buy me enough time to get to the cathedral. When the plague came, you and your brothers would know who caused it."
"You underestimated us."
"Not really. I underestimated Goliath."
Robyn drew the particle gun. "Attack me if you dare, Demon."
Demona's eyes flashed as she lunged forward. Robyn fired the pistol. The blue beam struck the gargoyle at the shoulder.
***************************************************
Carmella stood on the curb. Why was Jason Canmore so special, improving quality of life aside? Freud was right, she thought silently. I've been subconsciously trying to heal him so I could see him outside of our patient-therapist relationship. He is what I want in a man, and there's no way we could be together now. It'd be unprofessional of me. But where would I get the money for the surgery? Or someone skilled enough to perform it? And even if I could, he'd never feel the same way about me.
She hadn't noticed a car a few yards from her had stalled. The engine was dead. The one behind it, an expensive looking Newsmobile, couldn't stop, so it swerved to the right. The car tilted, the right wheels rolling onto the sidewalk.
Brendan Yale slammed on the brakes. To his horror, the car wasn't stopping.
"Brendan!" screamed his wife, Margot. "Stop!"
"I can't," he yelled, stomping on the brake pedal.
"I thought you took it to the mechanic!"
"I thought you had!" Brendan closed his eyes, wondering if the impact of Auto vs. Ped sounded like a crunch or a splat.
By now, Carmella had noticed the black car steering straight toward her. She tried to run, but was frozen in fear. I wonder if I'll get my picture in the paper: Therapist Run Down by ADA's Husband." Suddenly, she felt a whoosh of air. The car and street were receding -- she was in the air!
Below, the car finally slowed to a stop.
Margot clutched her chest. "That was a close one, right, Brendan?" No answer. "Brendan?"
Carmella realized that she was in the arms of a rather plump blue creature. Too startled to scream or gasp, she let out a whimper.
"Calm down," a raven-haired being whispered. "We're not going to hurt you."
"I tried to move, but I couldn't," Carmella moaned. "This is so embarrassing."
"Where do you want to land?" A greenish-gold gargoyle asked.
"You gargoyles aren't bad at all," stammered the therapist. "Just misunderstood." She played absently with the platinum charm on her necklace. It was a gift from her great-grandmother, whom she barely knew. The nugget was large, with minimal carving. It looked like a winged creature curled up. "How grateful I am...is beyond words."
Broadway landed on the rooftop and set his passenger gently down.
Angela smiled. "Those words are enough."
"We're just doing what we were put here to do," Lexington added.
*********************************************************
Macbeth felt a dull pain in his knee. He shrugged and walked a few more steps forward. The pain intensified. "Either Demona's close or rain's coming," he mumbled. A few more feet. Pain was now ripping through his side. "It's Demona." The immortal limped forward, following the pain. He climbed a nearby fire escape stairs.
Demona was facing his direction, fighting a young blonde. The woman's back was to him. Demona glanced ahead, then kicked her opponent off herself, and leaped toward Macbeth, knocking him over.
"Looks like we're picking up where we left off," Macbeth sneered, staggering back and falling over the fire escape rail. Quick as lightning, his hands gripped the iron bar.
Demona snickered. "Remember when this was reversed?" She grabbed her enemy's hands and pried them from the bar remorselessly.
Just like Father, Robyn realized as the lifeless thud came. "You monster!" Ripping off her mask, she ran down the fire escape stairs.
In her haste, she failed to notice Demona was crumpling, as if her bones had suddenly snapped. The gargoyle bit back her groans of pain as she struggled to crawl to safer ground.
Robyn glanced at her savior. He's rather handsome, whoever he is. She felt his wrist, checking for a pulse. Still there. He's still alive!
Macbeth groaned wearily as he struggled to sit up. The impact had probably broken most of his bones.
"I'll find an ambulance," the blonde said, getting up.
"That won't be necessary," the immortal puffed, trying to catch his breath.
"You could have internal bleeding, you stubborn old--"
"Old? How old do you think I am?"
Robyn looked at the stranger. Though his hair and beard were gray and his face was creased in wrinkles, he didn't seem that old. Especially the voice. He could have just aged prematurely, she thought. And it doesn't detract from his appearance. "Forty-eight?"
"Thirty-five, actually." It was partially true. Macbeth had been thirty-five when the spell was cast. His youth had been magically transferred to Demona, but he had never physically aged since then. The centuries didn't affect him any more than they affected the Peter-Pan gargoyle.
"Thirty-five, or not, what were you thinking?"
Macbeth laughed. "I might ask you the same question..."
"Robyn."
"Lennox Macduff."
"Well, Mr. Macduff, I'm calling an ambulance whether you like it or not."
**********************************************************************************
Carmella entered her apartment, locking the door behind her. The day's mail was her hand. Absently, she flipped through it. A couple bills. A late birthday card from Carson.
The last envelope was intriguing. It was white, business sized. The return address was the headquarters of Xanatos Enterprises.
"Why on earth would the richest man in New York want to write me?" She ripped open the envelope and unfolded a single piece of paper. It was dove-gray stock paper, stamped with a gold X at the top. Top of the line, expensive stationary. The note was handwritten in black ink:
"Miss DeZevalda,
I apologize for the suddenness, but I have a proposal for you. Do me a favor, and name your price. Believe me, I can afford it. All you have to do is..."
Carmella stopped reading at that point and laughed. "He can't be serious!"
She continued to read:
"Be at the Eyrie Building at 10:00 tomorrow with the items. My assistant, Owen Burnett, will meet you in the front lobby. Believe me when I say 'What I want, I get'. Your obedient, D. Xanatos."
***********************************
Robyn hung up the payphone and headed back to where she had left Macbeth. "The paramedics--" She stopped. The alley was empty. "He couldn't have gotten up and walked away. I must be losing it."
********************************
"Is the water temperature to your liking. sir?" asked Owen.
His master was in his nightly bubble bath. Only Xanatos' head was visible above the waterline. His soaking brown hair clung to his head. A yellow rubber ducky floated on the water.
"It's fine, Owen."
"It's a shame Governor DeZevalda is vetoing Bill 78."
"Don't apologize. It passed. That's the important thing. I know Carson, and I know his weakness. It's all a matter of waiting until the time was right, and then...striking." He looked around. "Where's my toy sailboat?"
***********************************
At the same time, Lexington, Broadway, and Angela were gliding home.
The girl looked down and something caught her eye. "You two go ahead. I'll catch up." She descended.
It was Demona, limping. A sheet of paper fell from her white skirt and landed on the ground.
Angela didn't dare approach -- her father would be furious. But she couldn't help sympathizing. Her mother looked badly hurt.
The paper landed at the raven-haired gargess' feet. She picked it up and unfolded it. It was written in English letters, but they were in some sort of code. Each letter must have stood for another one. Angela tucked it in her dress, and climbed up a building, then glided toward the castle.
*******************************
Robyn threw open the door and slammed it behind her.
Jason was lying on the couch, watching TV. "You could have knocked."
"This is my home too."
"So where have you been? I was about to go looking for you."
The thought of Jason patrolling the streets of Manhattan in a wheelchair made Robyn smile. "I saw the Demon."
"You what?"
"We fought."
Jason's blue eyes flashed. "You could have been killed."
"Well, what would you have done?"
"I-I don't know."
"She's still out and none of us are safe until she's gone. Anyway, Jason. Let me finish. I was saved. I know this sounds really stupid and soap-operaish, but it was a really tall and handsome man."
"In a black trenchcoat?" joked her brother.
"As a matter of fact, yes. He seemed ready to face the Demon. It was as if he knew her. And here's the funny thing -- he was thrown off the side of a four-story building! And survived! Then I went to call 9-1-1, and he was gone!"
"Maybe you have a guardian angel."
"First you mention ghosts and now angels?"
"Did you get a name?"
"He called himself Lennox Macduff, but that just sounds phony."
"Gray hair and beard?"
"Yes, how'd you know?"
"He was on Nightwatch a few weeks ago. Really told that pain Margot Yale off. They were debating about gargoyles."
"I guess I am to blame for their exposure, but what did he say?"
"That gargoyles won't attack humans unless provoked--" There was a knock on the door.
Robyn got up to answer it.
It was Elisa. "Hey, guys. My shift just ended. I thought I'd pop in on my way home."
"Robyn met a guy," Jason blurted out.
"Shut up!" squeaked Robyn. "It was for Jon's sake--"
Elisa's face clouded over. "I know where Jon is. The pen."
"Can you take us to visit him?" Jason asked.
Robyn glanced at the window. The sun was beginning to rise. "Later today?"
Elisa's expression was pained. "I have to be honest. I can take you to visit. But he's not the Jon you remember."
ang do you mean?" inquired Jason, worried.
"He's changed his name. Changed the way he looks. And he's dangerous. The fact that he's lost his mind may have something to do with it."
"I don't care," declared Robyn. "He's still our brother."
"OK," agreed Elisa. "I'll take you to see him. But only because I have a brother and sister myself."
***********************************************
Macbeth had returned home. Some of his wounds still ached, and he could barely walk -- but they would heal in a few hours. "I still miss the tears and laughter." But yet, it didn't hurt as much as it had earlier. As if the holes in his heart had each been filled partway. He crawled into his king-sized four-poster bed and slept soundly.
************************************************
(Hours later)
Carmella clutched the 8x11 envelope as she went through the doors of the glass-and-steel Eyrie Building. This better not be a joke. She glanced at her watch. 9:55.
Owen was waiting in the front lobby. "Miss DeZevalda, Mr. Xanatos will see you now."
The therapist raised her eyebrows at the lackey's stone fist, but she wordlessly followed through the floor and into the elevator. They exited and walked down the corridor.
"This is a gorgeous castle," she breathed at last.
"It was originally built in the Scottish highlands during the tenth century," informed Owen. "Mr. Xanatos had it disassembled and rebuilt here."
"I almost can feel energy coming out of these walls. Which is weird, since I don't usually believe in the supernatural. There are forces all around, converging in this one place. This is surely sacred ground."
The butler was silent and emotionless as they reached the office.
Xanatos sat at his desk. "Miss--"
"I'm nobody's miss."
"Do you have it?"
Carmella gripped the envelope. "Yes."
"Now, what does your heart desire? A diamond ring? A cruise to the Bahamas? A cottage in Vermont? A new wardrobe?"
"Does this corporation dabble in making cyborgs?"
"Is Walt dead? Owen, get Miss DeZevalda the file on Jacob Furman."
"Yes, sir." The assistant stepped out of the room and returned with a folder.
Carmella opened it. There were two photographs on top of a stack of papers. The first was of a brown-haired young man. The second was of the same man, with most of his body -- including his arms and legs -- replaced with metal. The first paper was of medical data. The other sheets were descriptions of a complicated weaponry and function system based on the spinal cord and silicon chips implanted in certain sites. "If you can turn this ordinary guy into a one-man arsenal, surely you can heal a paralytic. That's it. I want you to repair the spinal cord of one of my parents with a cybernetic system like this. Except for the weapons and only for the waist down. A patient of mine needs it."
"You drive a hard bargain, but your offer is fair. Now for your end." Xanatos took the folder and flipped through its contents. "And you do deliver. Excellent." He shook Carmella's hand. "I'll have my best cybernetics specialist referred to Manhattan General."
"Thank you, Mr. Xanatos. I can find my own way out."
Once she was gone, Owen looked at Xanatos quizzically. "Is this a plan you've neglected to mention?"
"I'll explain on the way. Get the helicopter. We're going to Albany."
TBC