CHAPTER EIGHT: THE WRONG KIND OF SPIRITS

"Major!" Using the axe like a cane, McKay got his feet under him and skidded over to the supine man, landing ungraciously next to him in a partial crouch. He glanced over at the mist for only a moment, then pressed a hand to the side of Sheppard's neck. Once certain the pulse felt strong and steady, he rested hand on his chest, then glared up again at the mist with the confidence of knowing Sheppard was breathing. "Major," he hissed, eyes dropping again to Sheppard's slack features, "Major Sheppard, wake up. We have to get out of here. Come on." He shook the man's arm, checking every few seconds to make sure the mist was not moving, "Come on!" he hissed loudly. "Wake up!"

As if galvanized by his words, the mist shifted towards him again.

McKay grabbed the axe in two hands, pushing up on his right leg to get back to his feet, attempting a defensive stance.

Get Out!

"No," he spat back.

The black eyes were back, swirling and shifting, and so were the claws and teeth. They were nearly on top of him again. His grip tightened, his knuckles turning white with the strength of it. Faces of monsters to horrific to describe formed in the green--some Wraith like, others like faces he had never seen before, others he knew he never wanted to see again. If they were even faces. And they were all focused on him.

His breathing accelerated as multiple ghastly, clawed arms reached towards him, the nails dripping with some kind of ichor. The scientist shook his head, trying to focus on one set of black eyes.

"Get back," McKay shook the axe, and was rewarded by a seeming pause in the motion inside the mist. Buoyed by that, he shook it again, "I said get back! All of you, back off!"

The black eyes narrowed, anger radiated off of the creatures inside. They swirled faster, and started to move closer again.

"No!" he shouted at them, holding the axe before him, assuming that it was probably the only reason they hadn't done to him what they had done to Sheppard, "I said back off! Don't you get it?" His eyes darted back and forth, from black eyes to black eyes, "I can't leave! You screwed up!" His anger finally overtook his fear, as it often did when he was pushed beyond his limits, "You wanted us to get out? To leave? Well look what you did! He's unconscious, and I can't carry him! My left leg is barely carrying me, and you think I could pick him up and put him across my shoulders right now? Well, I can't, and I'm not leaving without him, so you screwed up! Now neither of us can leave. And it's all your fault!"

As he yelled, the creatures, to his amazement, actually backed off. McKay didn't really notice at first, used to people backing away from him when he was in full rant mode, but when he finally finished, he found himself blinking a little in surprise at the fact.

He wasn't entirely sure if he was reading the things inside it correctly, but...he thought...they seemed surprised? And maybe...uncertain?

He drew the axe back a little towards his chest, still watching as the mist drifted farther and farther away, losing its solidity as it did so. Resting his weight back on his right leg, and using the axe as a crutch, he bent down next to Sheppard again, all the while watching as the green light gathered on the other side of the room and started to fade.

Eventually, it dissipated altogether.

Not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, the scientist put the axe down, fell onto his right thigh and grabbed Sheppard's arms with both hands, shaking him.

"Major! Major, wake up. I think...I think I got them to back off, confused them or something, but I don't know for how long. I need you to wake up so we can get out of here. Come on!" He shook the arms some more, but it was if the man was in a coma. He never even flicked an eyelid. McKay's jaw firmed, tension radiating from his features. He looked down at his left knee, trying to determine just how much it could really take. Could he carry Sheppard?

He'd prefer not to find out.

"Major! You have to wake up! Please!"

It was then he saw them walk up to him out of the corner of his eye, stopping just inside his field of vision.

Feet. Glowing green.

And belonging to a child.

He lifted his hands from the Major's arms, fingers curling and drawing back, and let himself look more directly at the feet.

They were clad in plain light colored shoes, and the legs were clad in a darker cloth, all of which were just different shades of jade.

Slowly, still barely keeping his fear under control, he placed one hand on the axe again and allowed his eyes to drift up.

A ghostly child encompassed entirely by green mist watched him. He was probably about thirteen years old, with his hands behind his back, his head tilted slightly in curiosity as he regarded McKay. Dark colored, shaggy hair stuck out at odd angles from his head, and pale green eyes looked sadly and, strangely, a little timidly, at the scientist.

"Hello," the boy said.

McKay's eyebrows shot up. "Uh," he looked around him for a moment, as if looking for another source of the voice, before returning his eyes to the boy, "hi?"

"We told you to leave," the boy said. "You didn't."

"Oh," McKay blinked quickly, "That was you?"

"Yes."

"Didn't look like you."

The child frowned, "We wanted to scare you."

The scientist gave a choked laugh, "Really? Why?"

"To make you leave." The boy's eyes narrowed, "But you didn't leave."

"Ah, well, no," McKay shook his head, trying to move his legs in case he needed to spring back to his feet (not that springing to anything was really possible with his left knee, but he could dream), "We...that is, it was sort of difficult...what with the, uh, earthquakes and falling rocks and the near death experiences. And you," he frowned again, still trying to reconcile the monsters in the green mist with this child—why were they using a child's image to talk to him? "You didn't make it easy. We lost our way."

The frown deepened at that, and then the child looked pointedly down at the axe in the doctor's hand. "You have been permitted to wield the Great Axe." Pale eyes lifted again, a strange look on the boy's face, "But it is not yours."

McKay had followed the boy's gaze to the axe, his hand still reflexively gripping the handle. The leather felt soft against his palm, comfortable, as if it belonged there.

"The Great Axe?"

"It is the axe of Setanta. He was the greatest warrior Highbern has ever known. He killed hundreds of Wraith all by himself when they first came, driving them back because when they could not kill him and could not get past him. With that axe in hand, he could not be defeated and he could not die. And he would have lived forever had he not been tricked by a Wraith to throw away the axe in battle, leaving him vulnerable without its magic...." The boy stopped, then lowered its head. "We tried to stop you taking it down, but we couldn't. Please do not take it. It is ours. It protects us. Keeps us safe from the Wraith." The eyes softened with fear, "Please don't take it."

Rodney just stared at the boy, lips slightly parted. When the child finished speaking, he looked down again at the axe.

"I wasn't going to take it," he said finally.

The child relaxed visibly. Rodney looked back at him, watching him out of the corner of his eye, then grimaced. The axe was obviously the reason these creatures were talking to him—he wasn't about to give up that advantage yet. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his head.

"But," the scientist's eyes narrowed, "I won't put it down until my friend and I get out of here either."

The child's eyes blinked, and looked again at the axe. After a moment, he looked up again.

"But you will leave?"

"Yes, if I can wake him up," McKay pointed to the major by his knees, "We will leave. But we also don't know where we are." He grimaced, hoping he wasn't pushing too far by adding: "You will have to lead us out."

The child practically flinched, and he looked away, then behind him, as if listening to something. McKay shifted a little on the ground to look past his shoulder, but couldn't see what ever it was the boy was seeing. Finally, the child looked back, and only fear showed on his face now. He shook his head.

"No. We don't want to go up there. Please don't make us go up there. Please."

McKay tried to make sense of the strange tenor of the boy's words, to understand the change in dynamics from demanding to frightened, and his brow furrowed. A sudden realization had come to him.

The creatures in the mist weren't monsters just using a child's face....

"Who exactly is 'we?'" he asked softly, even though he already knew the answer.

"You know. You opened the floor. You saw."

McKay grimaced, "The children." He shook his head, as if to rid it of the image, "The mist....You're the children from the pit." Or at least their ghosts, he added to himself silently.

"Not a pit. A cellar." The boy looked away again, "A place to hide. To keep us safe from the Wraith."

McKay shook his head, "Kept you a little too safe," he stated morosely.

The boy looked back at him again, but had no answer for that. McKay sighed.

"Okay," he said, "Just lead us near to the entrance. You don't have to go the whole way."

The child looked down, then behind him again. This time, when Rodney looked in that direction, he saw them. The mist was back, as thick and as green as ever, but this time the faces in it were not terrifying. They weren't trying to scare him any more by pretending to be something else. They were just the children. Dozens of them. They stayed back, watching the boy. He was easily the oldest among them, which apparently made him the leader. Some sort of silent communication was going on, and only until the boy turned back around to face him did Rodney know that a decision had been reached.

"We will show you the way out," the boy said. "But we will not go the whole way."

McKay nodded, "Thank you."

"And you will leave the Great Axe near the entrance. We will bring it back here."

McKay frowned, "Really? You can lift it? But you're...aren't you...." he trailed off, adding the word 'incorporeal?' silently to the question. The boy shook his head.

"It is heavy, yes, but together, we can all carry it. We can move things if we all work as one. Do you see how clean it is? We are the ones who have kept the Great Axe sharp and free from the growths, so that if the Wraith come it will be ready to protect our people."

The scientist's eyes narrowed. Well that answered one mystery. He nodded, "Okay, If you say so." He looked down again, touching the Major's sleeve, "But first, before we can go anywhere, I need to wake him up." His eyes lifted to the child, "What did you do to him?"

"He was dangerous, shooting those things—he might have damaged the dais. We put him to sleep."

Rodney's eyebrows lifted again, "Oh. Well, can you wake him up?"

"He is probably already awake—or at least not fully unconscious anymore. We have learned that, a little pressure here," he pointed to a spot on his neck, "and it will knock a person down, but it does not last long. Maybe twenty seconds or so before they start to reawake." A tiny smile, "Just enough to scare a friend."

"Ha," McKay looked at the Major, trying to see what the ghosts had done. There was nothing visible on his neck. "Well, nice job. You sure scared the crap out of me."

"Not enough," the boy muttered.

"No, no, I just...react to things differently from most people." McKay gave a wry smile. The boy frowned, not understanding the statement, but he did understand the concerned look on the scientist's face as he nudged the Major again.

"He is only asleep now. Shake him enough, and he will wake." The child was quietly certain, and McKay grimaced. Taking hold of Sheppard's arms again, the scientist gave him a hard shake.

"Major," he hissed, looking for signs of life on the man's face. "Major."

Sheppard's brow furrowed, and McKay breathed in relief. Not that he didn't trust the ghost children but...what was he saying? Of course he didn't trust the ghost children. A slight groan emitted from the major's lips.

"Major, wake up," McKay smiled some more, "Come on now. No sleeping on the job."

"Nnnnn," Sheppard's lips twitched, and one hand lifted to bat ineffectually at McKay, "Tell me...you're blond, buxom and didn't just drug me for my wallet."

McKay arched an eyebrow, then chuckled, "No. Sorry. You probably still have your wallet though. Not that your credit cards will be of much use in the Pegasus Galaxy. Or your money...or your driver's license...or your pilot's license...or really anything. Maybe you could use a card to unlock a door, but—"

"Mmmm," Sheppard tried to roll over on his side. McKay grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"No, no, wakey wakey, Major. I need to get us out of here before the little green children do anything rash."

Finally, the major cracked an eyelid, and the look of bafflement that crossed his face was clear. The hazel eyes opened more, obviously trying to focus.

"McKay?"

"Yeah. Can you get up?"

Sheppard's eyes rolled around in his skull for a moment, then settled, opening up fully. He blinked slowly out at the room, focusing first on McKay, then on the room, and finally on the ghost. He stared at the child for a second, then looked back at the scientist.

"What the hell," he cleared his throat, "was I drinking last night?"

McKay grinned, "Nothing. The...uh...the children did it."

Sheppard blinked some more at that statement, and turned his head back to the child.

"There's a kid here, McKay. He's green."

"He's one of the children."

Sheppard blinked again, still looking at the boy, "What?"

"Remember the green fog? It's the ghosts of the children from the pit."

"I'm a spirit," the child corrected, as if it made a difference, "not a ghost."

McKay looked at the boy, then back at Sheppard, "My mistake. The spirits of the children from the pit."

"And it's not a pit. It's a cellar."

McKay just sighed, not bothering this time. He watched as Sheppard frowned at the boy, and the child imitated the look. Not sure he liked that, the major rolled his head back to look up at McKay.

"That's a spirit?"

"Yeah."

"And the splitting headache I have...it's not alcohol related?"

"No. Sorry."

"What about the queasiness?"

McKay arched an eyebrow, "I don't know. What did you have for lunch?"

Sheppard snorted, a half hearted smile on his face, then he groaned again, hands on his head. The motion instantly caused him to hiss, grabbing at one of his arms. For the first time, McKay noticed the it looked swollen and red—was it broken? The major's eyes opened, and there was true clarity in them for the first time.

"Oh," he muttered, looking around the room with coherence, "Right. One more room."

"Major," Rodney's expression darkened again, catching the irritation on the faces of the children getting impatient with them, "I hate to rush you, but we should really be going." As if to emphasize the point, he lifted the battleaxe and, using it as a crutch, pulled himself up onto his feet, his left knee screaming in agony the whole time.

"Going where?" Sheppard croaked, watching the scientist's face contort in response to his standing up. "I remember where we are now," he swallowed something, the taste obviously not to his liking, "And aren't we lost? Being chased by some kind of horrific green...thing?"

"Um," McKay's expressive face calmed as he finally stood straight, "yes and yes, but the children will lead us out."

"The ghost children, you mean."

McKay saw the boy open his mouth again to correct him, but answered first, "Yeah."

Sheppard's forehead creased as he stared hard at the scientist now staring down at him. Finally, he stated, "I don't really believe in ghosts or spirits, McKay." He sounded like he meant it, despite the obvious facts to the contrary.

"Neither do I, Major. But they seem to believe in themselves, and who am I to question?"

Sheppard stared at Rodney, searching his face for answers. He apparently agreed with whatever he saw, because he held out his good arm.

"All right, answer man. Help me up."

-------------------------------------------------------

TBC