"Hold on," Duncan said. Methos, Joe, Duncan and Fitz alternately started, shook their heads and rolled their eyes, depending. The MacLeod stubbornness had kicked in.
"We've come a long way," Duncan said. "We, forget about us, AMANDA, has been through a lot. She's about to have babies. Children. She's helpless..."
"Duncan..." Amanda's don't-you-start-with-the-helpless-woman-crap voice growled.
Duncan ignored her. "We came out here hoping for some answers as to what's going on, what Amanda has been dragged into. And before we go up to this temple, I think you owe us a few."
Constanza looked squarely at Duncan, his gray eyes no longer misty, now appearing as the darkening clouds heralding a storm.
"Duncan, you really have no idea what's happening here," he said softly, but not without empathy.
Duncan started that this man knew his name. "How..?"
"I know all your names. I know infinitely about all of you. I can read you like a book. I'm not bragging about it. It's just true. The very essences, forces, that make you what you are, I'm hooked into it. If we, the Quickening, were a computer, you could consider me a monitor. It's how I know who you all are. Well, the Immortals among you, anyway. I'm instantly aware of everything concerning all Immortals everywhere in the world."
"How?" Duncan asked again.
Constanza breathed, then looked squarely at Duncan. The gray eyes seemed to fill Duncan's vision, and he fell into them...