"They've been gone too long."
Amon paced nervously as they waited for Robin and Kristo to return. The former hunter mentally chastised himself for allowing the teenage witch to go chasing after the shadow walker. If anything happened to her, the man hardly knew what he would do, especially to Kristo.
"We should go after them."
Brett shook his head, his eyes sad and grim. "No. We can't. Not with Kristo."
Amon hadn't thought of it that way. The shadow walker could have just melded with the night and opened a pocket dimension for himself and the hunter in the dark. It was as simple as that. Hell, for all Amon knew, the swordsman could have just hurled the assassin into the abyss and left him there to rot, to starve to death in the lonely, cold void.
Nah. That didn't fit Kristo's style.
"We can't just leave them," Amon argued.
Geoff stood and strode up sharply from the tree he'd been sitting up against. "We have no other choice." The bartender shook his head. "You know that's why Kristo had his gifts. To protect. You can't help him."
Amon swung around and punched him fiercely, knocking Geoff back from him. "Watch me."
xxxx
The girl hissed.
Actually hissed.
And, yet, there came no emotion from it. Robin watched in awe and horror as Kathain moved, her body ever enveloped in a glowing, pale light, as though her own aura. No. For this was no spirit. This was Kathain's Craft. It seeped from her, permeating everything, touching everything, even Robin. The girl knew what would happen, know how things would happen and in what order. This was her gift.
Which meant Kathain had gone into this battle knowing already how it would unfold.
The precognitive spun right, slashing at Kristo's back, but the swordsman had seen it coming. He just lightly dodged out of the way, reeling back and around the girl.
Robin balled her hand into a tight fist, igniting a sudden spark of flame and fury, flashing behind her emerald eyes and flickering into existence in that shadow realm, despite a lack of fuel. Robin would be the fuel, burning her soul to save her friends. The teenage Craft user allowed the world to bloom and blossom in flames around her, wreathing the combatants in a flaming ring. The teenager allowed her passion, her worry to explode outward and into the round.
"Stop…." She just whispered, a controlled, hushed statement.
The void yawned before her.
xxxx
Somewhere within him, Amon actually gave a damn whether or not Geoff would forgive him for the sharp slug he'd just delivered. But, in his own right, Amon didn't exactly care entirely. No. He didn't really care all that much in the end. The former hunter was, and would always be his own man. Thirteen be damned.
And, right then, in that moment, his heart beat fiercely in his chest, aching to see Robin alive and well, breathing and moving, uninjured. It didn't matter what any of the Thirteen said or did. Amon would always be loyal to those he chose to be so to. The great stoic Amon actually held emotion, held care and regard for others. He just very rarely showed it. However, it always lingered, despite how faint it may have been. His concern continued on, a glowing ember in the night.
The former hunter skirted around a tree.
How familiar this felt. How utterly natural. The world seemed to embrace its child in the form of Amon, as if he were really a creature of nature, nocturnal and predatory. He felt his back itch and crawl with energy, as if alive separately from the man.
Amon ran.
His legs stretched out, pouring off energy and steam over the land, feeling his feet connect with the earth and spring off. Each stride drove him harder and faster, deeper through the parks and towards his goal. Trees blurred past him now, becoming one, faded muddle of dark blue and green color. Each step became one, flowing, sinuous motion, streaking through the park and across the land.
This was familiar.
Amon could see it now. A form ahead of him, running through the woods, away from him. Robin? No. This creature bound and leapt with the grace of a deer, with long, flowing skirts of cream flowing behind her. This was an entirely different being.
Amon blinked. "Kathain…."
No, this was not Kathain. Never Kathain. She was gone, lost to them. That was why they had come to Washington, to find and save her. It could never be Kathain.
"I'm coming, Robin."
xxxx
She whirled around, a fierce, dancing dervish of rage. The flames of Robin's passion and anger rose around the girl, enveloping Kathain in a white hot light. And, yet the precognitive could not be touched by them. The girljust allowed the flames to curl around her, to encircle her body and soul. Kathain's Craft reached out, reading every inch and motion of energy, riding out every sinuous motion.
Her boot knife came around swiftly, back behind Kristo's back.
The swordsman didn't see it coming. Robin could see that now. He had rested too much focus on trying to save Kathain and not in trying to beat this new foe that had been their former friend. Or, as the warrior's face softened, the teenage witch wondered if he was allowing this.
Kathain didn't care. Her knife screamed through the air, but moved ever so slowly, as time froze around them, grinding to a halt.
Kristo just seemed to grow so quiet of spirit, so relaxed and accepting. Even his eyes, those blue orbs usually filled with the dark of night and the shadows of the void flooded with nothing less than casual concern. His lips parted, forming a sad sort of smile, curving with sweet sorrow at the site of this dark assassin.
"Kathain."
The name echoed out and into eternity.
The assassin plunged her knife deep into Kristo's back, into flesh with a meaty crunch. She drove the blade deep, up to the hilt, feeling the blood run down her hand. Yet, even as she twisted the blade, digging into the shadow walker's flesh harshly, no expression, no emotion appeared on her face. Kathain remained ever vacant. No sorrow. No rage. Not even smug satisfaction as striking down the mighty Kristo.
Yet Robin had seen the truth.
Kristo had allowed Kathain to take that move.
"How could you?" he whispered.
The girl hissed the words into his ear, pouring them with a silky tongue. "Inhale. Kill. Exhale."
"You know we will never stop hunting you?" Kristo sounded desperate to draw her home now.
Kathain gave the blade another sharp twist, as if hunting for guts and viscera under the sharply honed edge of the boot knife. "Did you think I went into this knowing any differently?"
"If you are the same girl I knew, anywhere in that shell of a human being, you wouldn't have been able to do it," the man said in a barely audible breath.
Kathain jerked the blade from his muscle, hearing the tear and splatter of crimson in the void. "I told you. I am not the person you call Kathain, nor have I ever been."
Robin watched in horror as the void melted away around them, dispelled and dying.
Kristo sank down to his knees in the Reflecting Pool. Thankfully, they had moved to a shallow end through the battle, and the water rose only up to his chest. Robin just gazed for a moment as Kathain stalked off, into the night and into the darkness. Then, she rushed to Kristo's side, her dress dragging her down in the water. The teenager wrapped her arms around the warrior.
"Kristo…"
xxxx
Amon ran, following the glowing, pale form.
Kathain…. Or Robin…. Or whatever this was, it led him through the cherry trees. They moved together, striding through the woods. She seemed to dance and lilt over the air, as if the heavy scent of the blossoms kept her feet from ever gracing the ground. The girl sprang with light, delicate steps as they moved together.
And, suddenly, as the trees grew sparse and the woods opened up to the Reflecting Pool and the Mall, the girl stopped and turned suddenly on the ball of her heel. Her face finally met Amon's, pale and full of worry. Her eyes were wide and horrified, as if witness to some terrible act. Those dainty, rosy lips quivered. This was Kathain, in all her ancient splendor.
"Amon!"
The figure faded into nothingness just as Amon reached out to grab her, to embrace that veiled spirit.
She left him there, alone and abandoned.
His eyes fell to the ground. "Kathain…"
The former hunter looked up, to the Reflecting Pool. The waters seemed so still and tranquil, so utterly perfect and undisturbed. His eyes lingered there for a moment, lingering on the pale reflections from the fluorescent lights that were about. And, then, that dark gaze of his settled upon an inky, black patch in the water, as if ink had been fed into the pool.
"Robin."
xxxx
She cradled him there, feeling the weight of Kristo's soul. But, somehow, despite the injury, the warrior held himself up. He ignored the blood loss as though it were but a trifling scrape or flesh wound, not a gaping whole in his back. The shadow walker just gazed out, as if contemplating whether to drift off into the abyss, to meld with the night, or to remain with the teenager.
He had been beaten and broken, but not in battle. No, by spirit. The mighty Kristo had fallen. He allowed Kathain to stab him, hoping that the precognitive would not be able to bear the thought of harming her friend, her loyal protector. The warrior had counted on the sheer shock and mental torment of the situation breaking whatever mind control or mental programming that had been instilled in Kathain.
But, no, nothing could reach her. Not words. Not battle. Not blood. Nothing.
She was gone.
"Robin!" Amon's voice.
Kristo could barely here it. His mind still reeled, still tried to resolve some way to bring back their sweet, innocent little Oracle, Kathain.
"Robin, what happened?" Amon shouted as he trudged through the waters.
"Kathain… she" the girl trailed off.
Kristo supplied the rest.
"She is gone."
xxxx
I am hated.