XII

Cassandra led the group through a maze of trees and bushes until they reached the entrance of a cave. She magically lit a torch and led the way inside. Oliver followed her. Rachel, Duncan and Connor did the same, after a moment of hesitation. They moved through endless routes. Rachel wondered if the woman knew where they were going. She glanced at Connor, who bore a distrust look in his eyes. Then at Duncan, who seemed uncertain. Finally at Oliver, who was calm and silent. A glimpse of light drew her attention. Ahead, a large opening could be seen, and toward there they went.

The place seemed like an enormous dining room, built in stone. There were torches and candles lit up all around. On the further side, there was a gigantic empty circle with a frame made of something that seemed like metal but could perfectly well pass as wood. Rachel guessed that was the gate Oliver talked about. Connor examined it, while Duncan looked around.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"This is the Gate of Power, Rachel." Oliver replied.

"Where does it come from?"

"We all need to go through it, if we are to enhance our skills."

"That doesn't reply the question."

Connor and Duncan stood at the gate. Rachel stood behind them. Oliver went behind her.

"Connor, hand Oliver the claymore." Cassandra ordered. Reluctantly, Connor obeyed. "Now, one by one, step in."

Duncan moved forward. "Let me go first." He walked through it. A blue glinting energy resembling a curtain dazzled him, seizing his arm. It seemed like water. The Highlander stared baffled. He glanced back and found Cassandra motioning him forward. He nodded and continued his way. Duncan MacLeod disappeared into the Gate of Power.

"Wait, Cassandra." Rachel turned.

"What is it, Rachel?"

"I want to know what this is, and where it comes from."

She smiled. Behind Rachel, Connor was stepping in, being devoured by the energy.

"This is the Gate of Power. Its origins are unknown. Quentin MacLeod, the first Highlander found it in the days before memory. The Gate is uniquely peculiar. Part of the quickening of every immortal that has died flies back here. It can increase your power..."

"That helps." Rachel stood by the strange energy, seeing it flow without a fixed pattern within the gate. Oliver went behind her.

"But..." Rachel turned at Cassandra's words. "No immortal that has been there can enter twice."

"What!" Rachel asked.

Before she could react, the American MacLeod pushed Rachel to the energy, and she was swallowed by it. He turned to Cassandra, reproach in his eyes. Again, a silent talk seemed to develop.

"I hope it works." He mumbled.

"So do I. Goodbye, Oliver MacLeod."

He stepped inside until only his face remained out of the energy.

"Goodbye, Cassandra."

-----

The darkest dark of darkness was all they could see. Noises humming in and out, to and fro, bewildered them. A shriek, a gasp. Then wild, vicious laughter. A cry, a pleasant moan, a sweet voice whispering "I love you". Then a mild, lovely giggle, before a void of silence ruled.

"What is this?" Connor asked. "Duncan, Rachel... are you here?"

"I am here, Connor." Duncan replied.

"So am I." Rachel asked. Her voice seemed pinched by distress.

"Where's Oliver?"

"He should be here, Connor." Duncan replied.

A surge of power blasted inside their heads. Many, too many immortals all around, nowhere to be seen, everywhere to be felt.

"Follow me." Connor commanded, as he began to walk in an uncertain way. He put his sword down, hoping to touch the floor so that the blade made a dim sound that would indicate the way to his friends. But the floor was not there. "This way." He called, repeating it every five steps to lead his friends.

"We've never been in such a weird situation, right?" Duncan queried.

"Not really." Connor said.

A flash of blue light fell from above ahead of them, showing them the way. Rachel shrieked. Where the light fell, some shapes could be made out.

"I don't like this one bit." Duncan spat up.

"Neither do I. But do you know a better place to go?"

They began their way there. The image seemed clear. As they drew near, they could see that there was a human shape glowing intermittently, surrounded by a group of at least six people. Their feet began to slip. The shapeless ground seemed to vanish. They began to walk faster until they reached some sort of dry land.

Then the light broke. An appalling view lay before them. Remnants of buildings stood, eroded by the wind, the light, or whatever it could be. Nothing at all for what Connor could guess. He did not feel cold, heat or wind. The sky was orange, covered by red clouds. A sickening smell pervaded Rachel's nostrils, and she covered her mouth to keep her stomach's reaction inside of her mouth. Duncan and Connor stared at the sight of broken weapons and rusty armours as they recognised with dread the stench of death. Some metres ahead, the people were talking among themselves, still around the fallen. Connor gave a step forward and crushed something. He looked down to see as Rachel let out a horrid cry. It was a human skull.

Murmurs were heard from the people there. Connor raised his eyes to regard them and froze. He felt a cold breeze chilling his back, though he wondered if it was not just his imagination. He knew most of those people. They should not be there. They were all dead.

"Greetings, Highlander." A Spanish accent tingled in Connor's head.