The Chaos Tree
Chapter 18
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The automatic doors of the hospital's emergency exit swished open and Dean limped out. Stopping on the cement walk just past the magnetic rubber pad, he rubbed gingerly at his aching thigh. A slow, wet trail slid past his knee and he sighed. Onida could have healed his leg a couple days ago and the wounds would have been forgotten. But that was the crux of it all, wasn't it? He didn't want it forgotten. Right now, in this moment, he didn't want to forget what he'd done, didn't want to forget that he was here while other souls were in hell, suffering. Yes, years before Sam and Caleb had both made the case for those souls having done terrible things when they were alive, thus earning hell. But he was the one who'd been there, he was the one who'd heard their screams, he was the one who'd inflicted the pain, and he was the one who had reveled in the agony. So right now, just for a little while, he needed to feel their pain and maybe even say a prayer for their souls.
Straightening slightly, he pulled in a breath of cool pre-dawn air and just let his gaze roam over the parking lot and beyond. At just after six, dawn still hovered in the wings, waiting for the curtain of darkness to rise. Leaves on the trees lining the hospital property rustled in the slight breeze. There was a calm to early morning that Dean had always loved. It meant a fresh start; that all the crap that came with yesterday was washed away. When he was young, it was a moment to breathe before his responsibilities demanded his attention: getting Sammy up for school, fixing breakfast, making lunches and cleaning the dishes before getting them both out the door. Even now there were mornings when he would rise before Juliet, pour a hot cup of coffee and stand on the porch watching the dawn.
A soft flopping sound had him shifting his gaze beyond the tree line to a young man on the sidewalk. The kid was lifting the backpack he'd obviously dropped while juggling his coffee and a football. Early morning practice, probably. After a dicey moment or two, the youth succeeded in balancing his belongs and continued down the street. Shaking his head, Dean huffed out a short laugh. It was surreal to know that a thousands-year-old mad witch was threatening the very fabric of the world, and that humanity went about its day, oblivious. Lifting his head with a sigh, he squared his shoulders and started for his car. Ancient sorcerer savant or not, they would stop him; they had to.
Sam stepped outside the side door to the hotel, threw back his shoulders and took a deep, cleansing breath. Dean had called before six, saying that Caleb had woken up and was doing fine, and that he himself would be heading back to the hotel for some shut-eye. Relieved, both Sam and Joshua decided they'd better get some sleep as well. Sam had offered to organize their paperwork while Joshua headed up. Joshua seemed to be on the trail of how this spell worked, and to Sam, that meant they were making headway in stopping this witch. After tidying up the conference room and locking their computers and paperwork in a nearby cupboard, compliments of the hotel's night manager, Sam decided he needed a moment of fresh air before heading upstairs.
The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was likely planted in Lebanon Kansas. He and Dean had been born a scant three and a half hours from there. It was almost as though they were fated to deal with all the crap in the world. It was purely coincidence, of course. The middle of the United States was the middle, regardless of where they'd been born. But he couldn't help making the comparison. Regardless, they needed to know how to stop Piruz's plans. The question was, how did you combat something that wasn't even from their own reality? Of course, if any Triad had experience with that, he supposed, it was theirs.
A slight prickling sensation lifted the hairs on the back of his neck. He was not alone. Whirling around, Sam stared at a very tall man, one who had maybe an inch or two even on him, standing about ten feet away.
"Bonum mane." (Good morning.)
Reinforcing his blocks, Sam nodded slowly, murmuring a cautious, "Bonum mane." He hadn't had an up close and personal with Piruz, having only addressed him over a distance of several yards in a darkened field. Now, in the lightening day, he found the man intriguing.
Piruz smiled. Looking away from Sam and over to where the sun's halo was cresting the horizon, he said, "Pulchra est, annon?" (Beautiful, is it not?)
Unlike Piruz, Sam's gaze didn't shift even as he nodded.
Eyes back on Sam, Piruz took in his height and appearance. "O videns, corrigere?" (Seer, correct?)
Sam frowned. He didn't plan on giving away anything that might be useful later. Instead of confirming he was psychic, he said, "Scholar."
"Magister?" (Teacher?)
"Teacher and Scholar," Sam confirmed.
Piruz nodded. He didn't say anything for a few minutes, and Sam, instead of breaking the silence, allowed it to continue for as long as it took for the wizard to get to the point.
Finally, Piruz sighed. "Cur pugnare mecum?" (Why do you fight me?)
"Milia ibique moriemini." (Millions will die.)
"Quod si mali sunt, quid quaeris?" (If they are evil, why do you care?)
"Bonum tibi peribit." (Good will perish as well.)
Piruz growled in frustration. "Tantum moles parva. Maioris esse superesse auxilium tuum. (Only a few. Most would survive with your help.)
Sam frowned. "Quam ut auxilium?" (How would we help?)
Piruz looked nonplussed at the question. "Pugnans malum, milites." (Knights fighting evil.)
Sam blinked in surprise. "Tu pugnare volunt nobis mala." (You want us to fight evil.)
"Scilicet. Hoc est officium tuum, verum?" (Of course. That is your job, true?)
Shaking his head in amazement, Sam tried to spin his thinking to this new bit of revelation. Piruz wanted to unleash the ultimate seeds of good and evil, counting on them to help fight the evil. Suddenly he remembered Nathaniel Bowman, the shapeshifter police officer in Chicago. Piruz had almost killed him like four other shapeshifters, but in the end had healed him. Nathaniel was a law enforcement officer, sworn to protect and serve. He would be a part of Piruz's army. They all were supposed to be part of his army.
"Nos non potest salvum facere totum bonum," Sam stated. (We could not save all the good.)
Piruz shrugged. "Homines moriemini." (People die.)
"Quot mortes est gratum?" (How many deaths are acceptable?)
"Satis succedant." (Enough to succeed.)
Sam could see the logic of what Piruz was suggesting, and that disturbed him. Separating those who were violent from society and letting good people live in peace and harmony. But Piruz's premise was flawed. Knowledge of evil had seeded man's heart since that first bite of forbidden fruit was consumed. All mankind had the seeds of violence in their hearts.
When he and Dean were children, John would occasionally leave them at Pastor Jim's. Jim would always make them attend church with him on Sundays. One Sunday morning sermon stood out in his young mind. Pastor Jim had preached on the fallibleness of humanity and the goodness of God by using a verse that said if man, though they were evil, knew how to give good gifts to their children, how much more will God in heaven give good gifts to those who ask. He remembered Dean had been very angry, thinking Pastor Jim was saying their father was evil. It had taken a lot of explaining, and a couple pieces of apple pie, for Jim to convince Dean that wasn't what he had been saying at all.
"Non est hominis bonum," Sam countered. "Homines uitiosam colit." (There is no good. Humans are sinful.)
"Edere de ligno et facti sunt mali?" Piruz snorted in derision. (Eat of the Tree and become evil?)
Sam wasn't sure how to answer that. The question of the Garden and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was something Piruz knew about, and he knew that the Tree unleashed good and bad intentions. He saw them as two sides of a coin, and he wanted to eliminate one side. But if you take away one side, the coin doesn't remain. "Homo enim fecit boni et mali. Potest autem fieri, separantur?" (Man is made of good and evil. Can they truly be separated?)
Piruz frowned, his head cocked to the side in thought. "Quid censes homo creatus est malum?" (Why would you think man was created evil?)
In a blinding flash Sam had a profound revelation. Neither he, Caleb, Dean, Joshua, none of them would ever be able to connect, intellectually, with Piruz. They were raised in a post-Christ Western world. The Bible and its values were woven into the very fabric of their thinking. He couldn't separate himself from his origins any more than Piruz could separate himself from his. How could he reach someone logically who was from a very different and long ago era? His pulse started to hammer. He was out here all alone with an extremely powerful wizard, only a few spell bags in his pocket. Keep him talking, was Sam's only thought. "Vitam habet valorem, quod sic?" (Life has value, yes?)
Piruz studied Sam intently before nodding.
"Quam multa valore?" (How much value?)
Frowning, Piruz thought a moment before saying, "Quid est mensura?" (What would be the measure?)
Sam shrugged. "Quantum conferant ad societatem?" (How much they contribute to society?)
Piruz nodded slowly. "Ambitu societatis." (Define society.)
"Bonum quaestio." (Good question) Sam gave the matter due thought and measured his words carefully as he replied, "Populous, quod sic? Non animalibus." (People, right? No animals.)
Piruz smiled slightly. "Populous."
Sam nodded. "Omnes jus. Societas hominum. Omnes homines? (All right, society is people. All people?)
Piruz's eyes narrowed. "Quod sic." (Yes.)
Turning slightly, Sam paced a few steps, fingering the spell bag in his pocket. He'd rather not use it outside the hotel, but he couldn't risk sending off a psychic signal to Caleb. Piruz might hear and pummel him with spells. If only he had gone upstairs with Joshua instead of outside for air. There was air inside too; safer air. Glancing over his shoulder, he clarified, "Dives non modo in ..." (Not only the rich…)
"Omnes homines," Piruz confirmed. (All human beings.)
Now more than twelve feet away from Piruz, Sam regarded the other man. "Igitur societas decernit qui habet valorem." (Therefore society determines who has value.)
"Quidam autem societatis," Piruz countered. (Some of society.)
"Quis enim decernit?" (Who determines that?)
"Et ego operor." (I do.)
Sam's brows raised. "Sola?" (Alone?)
"Quod sic." (Yes.)
"Ut homo, quis det vobis auctoritatem?" (As a man, who gives you that authority?)
Piruz was looking angry, yet unwilling to cease the conversation. "Enki," he stated aggressively.
Sam nodded again. "Enki, Mesapotamia dei. Enki; Anu vel Enlil non? (Enki, God of Mesopotamia. Enki, not Anu or Enlil?)
Piruz's eyes widened. Not many in this era knew the gods of Eridu. "Enki." Enki was the god of water, knowledge, mischief, crafts and creation. The God-With-No-Name would be crushed this time.
Sam knew that in Ancient Greece, the Priests had altars for all the gods of the various regions around Greece, and wanting to be inclusive, they included an altar to the Unknown God. In Piruz's culture, all the gods had names, as at that time God had not designated the Hebrew race. Yet the Old Testament acknowledged God in the midst of other gods. Piruz had lived during the time of the flood, therefore he had to have known about Noah. Noah had been called righteous by God. "Quid Noah Dei?" (What about Noah's God?)
"Non est Deus," Piruz stated agressively. (He is no God.)
"Quare?" (Why?)
Piruz stared at Sam, murder in his eyes. He could not talk to these people. Their eyes were too narrowed to their time. "Non ero deorum disputandum tecum." (I will not debate the gods with you.)
Sam considered a way forward. This was a man mired in the past, dragging revenge and sorrow through the ages with him like a ball and chain. Logic would do nothing to sway this man from his chosen course. But maybe he could figure out something to help them. Nodding his concession to cease discussion of gods, he said, "Aliqui sunt in societatem ad modum iudices aliorum." (So, some people in society judge the contributions of others.)
Piruz sighed. He looked at the sun that was now cresting the horizon. A large man carrying a pack of sorts walked from the hotel and crossed the lot to his truck. Opening the door, he tossed the pack in and joined it. Soon the engine rumbled to life, and the truck churned its way from the hotel lot. "Quid dicam vobis?" (Why do you speak?)
Sam's head tilted. "Ego vere vis scire." (I really want to know.)
"Non facies tibi. Vos vis mihi prohibere." (You do not. You want me to stop.)
That was true, Sam thought. But there was more to this century, a life Piruz could finally have if he would only let go of his pain. "Vos can vivere vita frui; habere uxorem, liberi." (You can live a good life; have a wife, children.)
Piruz stepped back further, his face resigned. "Illo tempore abiit. Et erit mihi in ultionem recipiam." Giving Sam a penetrating look, he said, "Ego sincere spem superesse vos et vestrum." (That time is gone. I will have my revenge. I sincerely hope you and yours survive.) Turning, he walked to his vehicle.
Sam stepped forward, wanting to stop him but not sure exactly how. One spell pouch wouldn't do much damage against someone as powerful as Piruz, and he couldn't start shooting in the parking lot of the Homewood Suites by Hilton. Knowing he had to do something, he just started forward across the lot when the hotel side doors suddenly swung open and Joshua hurried out, his eyes going directly to Sam. That he'd been getting ready for bed was obvious, as he was wearing the top of a pajama set with his jeans, his sockless feet jammed into his shoes.
Sam pointed to Piruz. Immediately Joshua lifted his hands, murmured a few words under his breath and shoved a wave of power out at the witch.
Piruz stumbled into the car as all the windows on the driver's side of his Hennessey blew out. Whirling, he glared at Sam, then saw Joshua standing nearby. Suddenly, he smiled. "Sorcerer."
"Crafter," Joshua corrected. "Stop your plan."
Piruz cocked his head to the side, obviously translating the words. Then he shook his head. "No," and he slammed a spell at Joshua.
Joshua had been expecting the retaliation, and waved a hand, dispelling the energy into the air.
The move was so Merlin, that Piruz's smile widened. Excited to match wits with this Sorcerer, he stepped forward and threw another spell.
Joshua countered and returned with another two spells, one of which slammed into the side of the Venom as the witch jumped to the side. Piruz countered with another spell, which Joshua slapped away. It crackled along a tall tree beside the hotel door, causing several branches to singe and blacken. Joshua murmured another few words and tossed a spell at the witch, which Piruz brushed off with a pleased look on his face. Joshua had the feeling he was being tested. But he didn't want to use any Triad magic at this juncture. He wasn't giving anything away. Behind him, the hotel side doors opened yet again, and three men walked out. When they saw Joshua and Sam facing off against Piruz, their steps faltered.
"Um, gentleman…" one of the men said, looking uneasily between the three.
Piruz grinned at Joshua and Sam, saying, "Donec iterum convenient," (Until we meet again.) and he climbed into his car. With the roar of his engine and a foot on the pedal, he was around the corner of the hotel in a flash as Joshua and Sam stood watching.
The second of the three men looked over at Sam, asking, "Was that guy trying to steal cars?"
"Maybe," Sam said, pasting on an expression of confused concern. "I think we surprised him."
"Good thing," said the third, walking past. He glanced over at one of his companions. "He might have taken our car, and we're due in Charlotte today."
The first man nodded as they continued on their way to their vehicle. In a couple of minutes they were loaded into their Subaru and heading out of the lot.
Sam gave Joshua a pat on the arm and they headed back into the hotel. Once inside, Sam asked, "How did you know Piruz was out there?"
"Caleb," Joshua said. "Said he woke up and heard your bat signal."
Sam frowned. "I didn't send out a bat signal. I was specifically trying not to send any psychic messages because I didn't want Piruz to hear."
Joshua smiled and lifted his hand, pointing to his own Brotherhood ring. Though his own wasn't included in the Triad alarm system, Caleb had felt his go off and called to warn Joshua. "He called your phone, but I guess it's still in the conference room."
Sam shook his head. "I was so focused on Piruz I didn't even feel the ring getting hot."
"Why were you out here in the first place?" Joshua asked.
Shrugging, Sam said, "Wanted a bit of fresh air before heading to bed. I left my jacket, some paperwork and the cell in the conference room."
"You're supposed to keep it on you at all times," Joshua admonished.
"I know," Sam retorted irritably. "It was only for a moment."
"I expect Dean will have a lot to say … loudly, when he gets here," Joshua remarked humorously with a glance at his watch. "Which should be any minute. Get prepared."
Sam chuckled wearily. Looking at his watch, he was surprised to see it was only six-twenty. It felt much later. Less than fifteen minutes had passed since his conversation with Piruz began. After a stop at the conference room, he and Joshua headed for the elevator and back to their floor.
"I contacted the front desk, extended our rooms for one more day," Joshua said.
"We're leaving today."
"No one has gotten much sleep," Joshua observed. "I don't believe anyone will be ready to check out at eleven. I'll text Daniel and Adam, let them know they can sleep in."
Sam nodded, yawning.
Joshua eyed the younger man and asked, "What happened out there?"
Sam gave their Advisor an overview of the conversation as they walked through the hotel and onto the elevator. "It was almost like he wanted me to agree with what he's planning and help fight the violence." He shook his head. "I tried to get him to see that he couldn't arbitrarily decide who lives and dies, but I'm no philosopher."
"You're a lawyer. You're experienced at persuading people to your point of view."
"I'm a twenty-first century Western lawyer," Sam countered. "Piruz…" he shook his head. "Our entire reasoning is based in twenty-first century Western ideology. It permeates every facet of our thinking. He's from another time, a time when individual life doesn't have the value or rights it does today. It was a time when Kings and Priests decided the merit of a person's life."
"He doesn't mind people dying."
"For a greater good," Sam argued. "In his mind, the deaths of some for everyone would be acceptable." They stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall toward their rooms.
"A concept Generals the world over have debated when stakes are high. Maybe its Caleb who should do the reasoning," Joshua suggested.
"Maybe," Sam murmured. In truth, he could see the allure of doing something that would banish all evil. His lawyer's brain could even rationalize some dying for the greater good. After all, years before he'd momentarily considered allowing the virginal Nancy Fitzgerald to die in order to save everyone else in Monument Colorado. Of course, he'd been under the influence of Ruby and the terrifying fear of losing Dean. At that time Dean's deal with the Crossroads demon was coming to an end; a deal that had been made to save Sam's life. How Sam had hated that deal. Not only for Dean's trading his life; but it put him in the unfair position of having to be worthy of the sacrifice. It was an untenable way to live. He would have done anything back then to save his brother, and that meant making compromises. In Monument, his view of compromise had been cultivated by Ruby, a view with which Dean had been appalled.
Dean had been his compass back then, his guide to what was right. It wasn't until years later that he'd been able to fully realize how important Dean was to him and the Brotherhood. His brother could be annoying and aggravating at times, but his moral compass was a laser pointing straight toward good. He'd learned a lot since those days, had realized that sacrificing anyone led down a path to one's own destruction. Yet he could still see why Piruz would consider some good people dying as acceptable in his scheme to abolish evil. But Sam also knew Piruz's plan was based in revenge and not in the true desire to see evil abolished. And revenge was a slope he'd slid down for a long time, almost to the point of no return.
Joshua stopped outside his room and slid his key into the lock. It clicked to green. "Get some sleep and don't worry about the time. We're going to need the rest."
Sam nodded and continued on down three doors to his own room. He wasn't inside five minutes before Dean was through the door.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Sam rushed to say.
Dean regarded Sam carefully before he was satisfied as to his wellness. With a sigh, he dropped onto the small couch like a puppet whose strings had been cut. "Good." Looking up, he asked, "What happened?"
Sam recounted the events outside for the second time. "He believes he's doing the right thing," he confided.
Dean snorted. "Right thing? He wants to let loose chaos and kill millions of people so he can show up God."
"He wants to eliminate evil. Sounds like something we would do."
Dean regarded his brother. He too remembered the times when Sam's pragmatic sense led him in the wrong direction. But that was years ago, and he knew Sam was playing devil's advocate in this scenario. "He wants to send the world into a tailspin so he can show up God. See, God? Killing everyone wasn't necessary; you could have eliminated evil without drowning the entire world."
"Except Noah and his family," Sam interjected.
"Except for Noah," Dean conceded. "If I believed for one moment his plan was rooted in a true desire to eliminate evil…" he paused, "well, I'd still stop him, because the collateral damage is unacceptable, but I'd feel bad about it."
Sam chuckled. Sighing, he dropped onto the couch beside his brother. "He sounds so reasonable when he talks about the good of the world and getting rid of evil so good people have a chance at a great life."
"So do most sociopaths," Dean observed. "Reasonable until their will is thwarted, then they're not."
Sam smiled at the word thwarted. It was so melodramatically Dean. "He watched his whole family die," he said softly. "They drowned, probably right before his eyes. That's got to scar a person's soul."
"You watched me die, and survived with your soul intact," Dean murmured, eyes on his brother.
Sam felt the tears of old pain moisten his eyes. The long ago echo of Dean's screams on the dark night air were a wound to his soul. While Dean coming back to them had been a soothing balm, the scars of his loss still remained.
"You have the scars," Dean said knowingly, "but you became strong and more compassionate toward those in pain. You survived and dedicated your life to helping others. You didn't rub your hands together in some Machiavellian manner and plan for centuries to doom the world."
"I did for awhile," Sam whispered.
Dean sat up and turned to face his brother. "Yeah, you lost yourself for awhile, and I know you think it was my return that brought you back to the Brotherhood. But Sammy, I know you. You might have wallowed in pain for awhile, but even if I'd stayed dead you would have found your way back because that's who you are inside. You fight for good. You've always been the Boy Scout. You wouldn't have devised some grand scheme to annihilate the world's evil at the cost of good people."
Sam stared into Dean's earnest face and didn't have the heart to say that his brother's high-minded view of him was flawed. He wouldn't have gone the way of Piruz, of course, but he would have forsaken the Brotherhood in a heartbeat back then. He couldn't have gone on without Dean, because it was Dean's unswerving desire to save people that ignited the fire in his own heart. He needed Dean's passion to save people, and Dean needed his reason and logic. Instead of debating the point, he smiled and said, "I was never a Boy Scout. I believe it was you who was enamored of boy groups. You were a Wolf Cub."
Dean scowled. "I was not. I got kicked out before the first meeting even finished."
"They were stupid to let you," Sam quipped, pushing himself up and onto his feet. "Why don't you get a shower, then I can bandage that leg again."
Dean glanced down at the dried blood on his jeans. Sighing, he inched himself up. "Yeah, okay." Watching Sam go and fish the first aid kit out of his duffel, he said, "I know you think you wouldn't have come back to the Brotherhood if I'd stayed dead."
Sam stilled, the kit clenched in his hand.
"But I do know you, Sammy. You would have come back, and you would still have been the best Scholar the Brotherhood has ever seen, even if Elijah was Guardian. Logical and realistic as you are in that lawyer brain of yours, you're a good man who wants good for others. That's just who you are." Turning, Dean limped into the bathroom and closed the door.
Sam couldn't take his eyes off the bathroom door for several minutes as he listened to the water in the shower go on, and then the sounds of splashing. He'd never know if he would truly have gone back to the Brotherhood if Dean had remained dead. In the four months his brother was gone he'd felt a desolation so black and dark, he couldn't see beyond the pain. The old adage that time heals all wounds was likely true. He'd survived after their father's death, had survived Jessica's so many years ago. He'd survived Pastor Jim's and Mac's deaths as well. But Dean's death was in a category all its own, and he couldn't be confident that he would have survived it in as valiant a manner as Dean seemed to think he would. With a sigh, he dropped onto his bed to wait for his turn in the shower, more thankful than he could ever express that he hadn't had to find out.
Mandy worked at this front desk of the Homewood Suites. If she had to work in the customer service industry, a Hilton property was one of the best places. While she was somewhat bored, the Homewood was a nice, clean place with decent management. She could do worse.
"Thank you, Mr. Walford," Mandy said, handing over the receipt for the two-night stay. "We look forward to seeing you again."
"You should have smiled bigger."
Mandy rolled her eyes as she watched the portly man exit through the double front doors. Her manager, Cindy Wilson walked back into her office and gave the door a small shove closed. It didn't latch all the way, and a small two-inch gap remained. Mandy knew that was so Cindy could watch her through the door. The didn't quite get the door closed gag had stopped working months ago.
Ashley from housekeeping walked over to the reception desk and leaned one elbow on the counter. "Door ajar, huh?"
Mandy rolled her eyes. "She thinks she's so subtle."
Ashley chuckled. "We could clue her in…"
"And loose our advantage?" Mandy snorted. "Not likely."
"What advantage?" asked a male voice.
Mandy didn't bother turning around as Jose came through a side door that led to and from the maintenance offices. She continued sorting through the receipts of those checking out this morning. Picking up a slip of paper, she handed it across to Ashley and said, "Tell the staff not to clean these rooms. They've checked in for another day, and there's a Do Not Disturb request."
Ashley nodded, watching Mandy studiously ignoring Jose while Jose merely stood there waiting for a reply. Finally, she explained simply, "The door."
"Ah," Jose said, backing off and taking a step away from the counter. He sifted through the papers from his in-box and sighed. "Damn toilet again on two. What's up with the darn thing this time?" Turning, he went back through the side door.
Mandy snorted again, then quickly straightened as a tall man with a petite woman walked off the elevator. Approaching the desk, he handed over his keycard. "I hope you enjoyed your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Oehmann." She had learned long ago not to ask about the stay; merely assume their stay was terrific. When Mr. Oehmann merely grunted, she gave him a big smile as she handed over the receipt for his records. "I hope to see you again!"
As the Oehmann's walked to the door, Mandy could overhear their bickering.
"Man, people as so ultra lately," Ashley stated, watching the couple disappeared through the front doors. With a sigh, she turned and walked down the first floor corridor to the service closet.
Mandy heard the door behind her creak slightly, and rolled her eyes again. She had no idea why, but she felt irritation and anger well up inside. So Cindy thought she needed to keep an eye on her at all times, despite her being a model employee? Well, she'd show her what untrustworthy looked like. Walking to register, she hit some keys and printed another receipt, using the sound of the printer to mask her opening the register. Lifting out two fifty dollar bills, she slid them down the front of her sweater. Shutting the till door quietly, she bent and snatched the pages she'd printed from the tray and returned to her station. A feeling of elation trilled through her body. The elevator doors slid open again as she grinned. That had been so easy and so thrilling. She had no idea why she hadn't done that before, but she definitely planned on doing it again. "Morning, Ms. Riggins. I hope your stay was amazing."
Sam woke slowly. Fumbling for his cell, he squinted in the dark room to check the time. It was almost noon. He'd been asleep for four hours. Glancing over at the other bed, he could hear the deep, even breaths indicating that Dean was still asleep. He wished he were sleeping that soundly. Rolling onto his back with a sigh, he stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts on Piruz. The encounter had been eye-opening in many regards, not the least of which was the sincerity of Piruz's belief that if they helped as Knights of some sort, the loss of life would be lessened. It explained why so many on the police force hadn't been adversely affected by the outbreaks of violence in the various cities. Did Piruz somehow temper the boxes to exclude Knights, or officers, as was the case in this era? No, that didn't make sense. He supposed that those who dedicated themselves to the protection of others probably had a stronger moral sense, and were more able to resist the pull of the Tree.
The Tree.
He wanted to see this Tree that was the stuff of mythical legend. Frowning, he wondered how Piruz had found out about its existence in the first place. One of the legendary libraries, most likely: Alexandria, Pergamum, maybe even one as old as the Library of Ashurbanipal which legend dated back to the seventh century BC. He knew of eight ancient libraries that had been lost through the ages. Likely there were even more. So much knowledge, exploration and records of human achievements and discoveries had been lost through time. For all intents and purposes, they lived today in a relatively uneducated world, for all their supposed knowledge. But if Piruz was as old as he claimed, the wealth of knowledge he had been exposed to would have been vast, enough to satiate the most ravenous thirst. Sam felt a thrill of excitement for the endless possibilities. What amazing discoveries could Piruz reveal? What knowledge could he pass on if only he would set aside his quest for vengeance?
"What are you thinking about?"
Sam looked over to see Dean blinking sleepily at him. "You're supposed to be asleep."
"I know," Dean grunted softly, shifting onto his side, then grimacing as his leg pulled. "But your big brain woke me up."
Sam snorted softly at the absurdity. Noting the pain reflected on his brother's face, he said, "Why don't you let Onida heal your leg?"
"I don't want to get used to her being there to make every pain go away. Sometimes you just got to suck it up."
"You would insist she heal me," Sam stated, a well-worn counter in an argument that had endured for years and would never be resolved or won.
Dean merely smiled, declining to get into it because he knew Sam had a good point. "What were you thinking about?"
Sam let the topic drop for now. "Joshua showed me the Chaos spell yesterday."
Dean knew Sam wasn't revealing what he'd really been thinking about, and said so. "That's not what you were thinking about," he frowned, "and there's an actual drawing of the spell?"
Sam nodded. "It has a center point, then arrows shooting out from the center in all directions."
"Oh." Dean covered a yawn. "So, what were you thinking about?"
Like a dog with a bone, Sam grumbled internally. "I was thinking of how Piruz found out about the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. It's not like the events of the Old Testament were common knowledge. Oral histories were the norm for centuries. Most people couldn't read or write. When would the story of Eden have been written down? Who would even have told the tale? Maybe one of Adam's descendants told someone. Scholars and priests studied and recorded knowledge. The oldest language we know about is Sumerian, and that dates back to 3500 BC. I mean, there was probably writing further back than we know since the Library of Ashurbanipal was dated back to the seventh century BC. There were probably ancient parchments and tablets there, since we've found examples of cuneiform that date back to the fourth century BC. To think that Piruz probably studied in those ancient repositories of knowledge… It's mind boggling."
Dean yawned again and rolled his eyes. Why had he asked?
Sam's enthusiasm was in full swing as he talked about all the knowledge lost through the ages, about libraries that no longer existed, and the history that had happened about which they knew nothing. "Most of the oldest libraries in the world were all created in the fifteenth or sixteenth centuries. Of course, the oldest library still in existence is St. Catherine's Monastic Library, which was founded in five hundred and sixty-five AD. It's second only to the Vatican Library in preserving the largest collection of early manuscripts and codices in the world..."
"So, the chaos spell has a diagram?" Dean interrupted.
Sam grinned. Best way to get a dog to drop the bone was to bore him. "Yeah. It has a center point, then arrows shooting out in all directions."
"Interesting."
"Yeah. It led me and Joshua to wonder why Piruz was making a circle. We figured he was keeping the spell contained to the States for the moment, so he could establish some sort of control here."
That got Dean's attention. "Control, like…"
"Being the ruler, maybe? I mean, after the spell creates chaos, someone will need to step in and establish order. I suppose he plans on being that person."
Slowly Dean nodded.
"Since we know Piruz isn't using a wand to make his circle, we figure he's linking the spell through the boxes, which have been infused with his own magic..."
"He can do that to cocobolo wood?" Dean exclaimed, incredulous. "I thought cocobolo wood was Superman."
Sam grinned at the analogy. "Even Superman has his kryptonite. Joshua figures it would have taken him a very long time to get his magic infused into the wood. When he finishes laying all the boxes, he'll go back to the center and finish the spell."
Dean shoved himself up on his elbow. "So we should be heading for the center."
Sam smiled slightly. "Yeah, that's what we figured. Joshua thinks there might already be a tree growing in the center spot. When Piruz goes back there, he'll link the north, south, east and west boxes to the tree and that will break set off the spell. It will be mass chaos after that. Remember when we looked up the news reports yesterday? There's already heightened levels of violence across the country, and its growing. Once the spell is complete, there'll be a whole lot more."
"If there's already a tree growing in the center, why isn't there violence there too?"
"Remember Joshua saying Odette told him a coven from the Midwest was missing? Maybe Piruz is using the coven somehow to contain The Chaos Tree."
"Do you think they're alive?"
"I don't know; I hope so."
Dean nodded, thinking. "If this guy is using the boxes to link the spell, he doesn't need his blood or a sacrifice, right?"
Sam nodded.
"So he's going to plant his boxes in New York, then head directly for Lebanon Kansas."
Sam looked startled. "How did you know Lebanon Kansas was the center of the United States?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam," he said with exaggerated patience. "We've driven through Lebanon how many times over the years? There's a big sign going into the town saying it's the center of the forty-eight states."
"There is?"
Chuckling, Dean pushed himself up. "What time is it?"
Sam lifted his cell. "Uh, twelve-thirty-five."
"We need to get going."
"We're going to Lebanon?"
"No, not everyone. You, me and Caleb are going to New York. Everyone else is going to Lebanon."
Sam sat up. "Why?"
"We're going to piss the hell out of Piruz so Josh has time to create a brand new spell; one that will send the Chaos Tree back to the Garden of Eden."
Sam goggled. "How's he supposed to do that?"
Dean shrugged. "I don't know. That's why Josh is doing it and not me." Turning, he walked into the bathroom and shut the door.
"Oh, Joshua's really going to love this," Sam muttered.
"I'm going to what?" Joshua exclaimed.
It was only Joshua, Caleb, Dean and Sam sitting in the conference room of the Homewood Suites. While Caleb hadn't reserved it for the day, no one else had either, so the hotel manager said they could use it for some privacy.
"You're going to create a new spell using all that Crafter and Triad magical knowledge, one that will suck the Chaos Tree and all the boxes back into the Garden of Eden," Dean repeated.
Caleb was staring at the table, trying not to laugh at the impossible task Dean had just set for Joshua. Sam was trying to look encouraging, and mostly failing.
"I don't know how to do that!" Joshua spat, trying to keep his voice calm and cool, and like Sam, failing.
Dean leaned forward, eyes on their Advisor. "There's a way into Eden. Piruz found it, and he found it when he was young because he escaped the flood. I'm thinking he escaped into Eden, because there was nowhere on the earth that wasn't covered with water." He glanced at Caleb and Sam, who were watching him opened mouthed. "Pastor Jim did more than one sermon on the flood." Neither said anything. "You were both there!"
Caleb gave a soft snort of amusement and got up to refill his coffee.
Joshua was still focused on the spell he was supposed to create out of nothing. "But, but I don't know how he did it!"
"If he can do it, so can you," Dean stated confidently. "And we've got Merlin on our side; Triad magic."
Sam decided to try and throw their Advisor a lifeline. "Maybe create something similar to the Triad spell you guys did to get me out of the cage. It's creating an opening between two spaces that shouldn't touch."
Joshua sighed.
"I'm sorry to throw this at you," Dean said sincerely. "But you're the only one who can stop the Tree and the boxes from being in a place they shouldn't."
"Don't you have to eat of the tree to get the knowledge?" Caleb asked suddenly.
"Adam already did that back in the Garden," Sam relayed. "He bit the fruit and knowledge of sin, previously unknown, entered the human race through him and his descendants … which is all of us."
"I understand that something needs to be done," Joshua said, "But my place is with you."
"Agreed. But right now, this is more important," Dean stated. "You're our ace in the hole. We might be able to take out Piruz, and if we do the Chaos Spell will die with him. But if you can't come up with a spell to get the Tree out of our dimension, society will collapse anyway. If you can't do it, no one can. Your knowledge of Triad magic is greater than any other Advisor in Brotherhood history."
Joshua gave Dean a sardonic look.
"All right," Dean corrected, "So Malachi Harris probably knew the most. But he was evil so he doesn't count."
Joshua gave a long suffering sigh. "What about you?"
"All we're going to do is buy you some time. Once we kick Piruz around a bit, we'll meet up with you in Lebanon."
"Then Adam is going with you." Before Dean could voice his objection, Joshua continued, "You need a crafter, someone who knows magic to watch your backs."
"Adam can't do what you did the other night," Dean stated.
"No, he can't. That was Triad magic. But he can do other things. He's very gifted. I want someone I trust with you."
Dean finally nodded. "Fine, but I better not hear one word against Baby."
"No," Onida stated, standing defiantly with her hands on her hips. "Absolutely not. I'm going with you."
Caleb sighed. "All we're going to do is irritate Piruz some, see about slowing him down. If you can offer any help to Josh with your knowledge of elements and energy, he's going to need it to create this spell."
"I don't like it. What if you get hurt?"
"We're all wearing the spell bags that protect against Chaos messing with our brain functions," Caleb said, showing her the small bag tucked into his shirt. "And Adam will make us some cloaking spell bags like the ones JT and Max used in Washington last year. Dean and Sam have got my back; I'll be fine."
Onida's shoulders slumped suddenly. "I don't want you to go where I'm not."
Caleb smiled and pulled her into his arms. "I'll be back to you within a day and a half, and I expect Joshua's potion to be brilliant with your help."
"I don't know magic."
"You know the earth. If there's anything within the earth at the center of the forty-eight states, you'll know it, and I'm betting there's a geographical anomaly right there in Lebanon."
"If there is, I'll find it," Onida vowed.
I know it." Caleb picked up their duffels and held out his hand. "Come on," he said, and they headed for the door.
Down in the parking lot, Raylan and Daniel were flipping a coin to see who got to drive the Tourer first, and who would follow in Daniel's truck. Joshua and Adam were talking intently nearby.
Dean walked up to Joshua just as Adam stepped away and headed for the Impala. Handing Joshua a note, he said, "This will help."
Frowning, Joshua said, "Should I open it now?"
"In the van. It's something Pastor Jim said a couple nights ago. It might be the key to your spell."
Joshua nodded.
Grasping his Advisor by the forearm, Dean squeezed and said, "Good luck. I know you can do it," before he turned and headed back to the Impala.
Sam walked over and said, "I've got my laptop. If you need any research, call."
"I will."
Hesitating for a brief moment, Sam said, "Dean wouldn't have asked you to create a spell like this if he didn't believe one hundred percent that you could do it. He would have figured out something else. So please do it, cause I don't want a Dean seat-of-your-pants solution. Not that those don't usually work." Both men laughed. Leaning in, Sam said earnestly, "I know you can do it too." Turning, Sam walked off and got into the back seat of the Impala.
Caleb said goodbye to Onida and helped her into the Tourer. Giving her a wave, he turned to Joshua. Holding out a hand, he grasped Joshua's and said, "I'm going to miss you with us today, but I believe in you. Don't think about this being The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, don't think about breaching Eden. Just think about taking something that shouldn't be here and sending it home." Giving Joshua's hand a tight squeeze, he said, "Watch out for Onida, and I'll see you in Lebanon."
Joshua watched Caleb climb into the front seat of the Impala, heard the revving of the powerful engine and watched his Triad drive away. Never had he felt so lost.
"Come on."
Joshua looked around and saw Onida smiling at him. Giving her a nod, he climbed into the Tourer, retaking his seat at the back.
"All aboard?" Raylan called. Having won the coin toss, he was grinning as he eyed Onida and Joshua.
"We're set," Joshua said. Picking up his computer, his notebook and a legal pad, he murmured, "Yes, we're set." Pulling Dean's note from his pocket, he opened it and read, Pastor Jim knew you were a talented Crafter from the moment he spent time with you at the farm. You were thirteen. He knew you would be an outstanding Advisor to the Brotherhood, and he knew Triad Magic would be safe in your hands. Pastor Jim told me 'Strength through generations.' I know his words were meant for you. See you in Lebanon. Dean
Joshua read the note through twice more before he nodded. "Okay," he murmured under his breath, "let's see what Triad Magic can do."
1248 AD
In the years since Merlin had passed away, Piruz worked on perfecting a way to control the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. It was strange, but he missed the old mage. Though they had profoundly disagreed on his plan to eliminate evil from the world, he had felt some succor from knowing Merlin was there working his magic to help people and stabilize kingdoms. It had not been his path, but until all evil was eliminated, it was a decent path. The mage had lived a good, long life, and the world felt poorer for his absence.
After his first meeting with Merlin, it had taken him a very long time to track down Berthot of Netherese, the creator of the Chaos Spell. It took even longer to access the man's knowledge, as his understanding of Latin was rustic, at best. But when he was able to make his intent known, Berthot had been flattered and eager to help. He freely shared knowledge as had the dark wizards of Petra. He taught Piruz how to harness the Chaos Spell, how to bend it to his will using his body, speech and the tools of the trade: a disc of bronze and a small iron rod.
In its origination, the Chaos Spell caused a creature or person to be subject to chaotic effects. Those who were unable to resist would become confused or even attack the creature or person closest to them. Those under the influence of the spell would see their attacker as an enemy. The duration, range and scale of the spell were determined by the power of the caster. Only the very powerful could resist chaos. Under Berthot's tutelage, he had practiced the spell on numerous creatures before moving on to test his prowess on humans. However, when he wanted to test whether a human would kill under the influence of chaos, even Berthot had balked. Thus, he had taken his leave to continue his research alone.
Merlin had thwarted his first human trial with the Tree. Yet through his burning anger, he had been able to see a crucial element: he couldn't control the Tree, not even with the Chaos Spell. Merlin had controlled the Tree, and if he'd thought for one moment the mage would tell him, he would have dogged his steps till his dying day. But Merlin would never have revealed that knowledge. Therefore he'd needed to find the control on his own. Thus, he'd devised his plan.
First, he needed control. He had painstakingly attempted spell after spell, searching libraries and the most noted minds, then mining the farthest reaches of the world and the dankest corners of dark magical societies to find a way to control the Tree. None were very successful. Eventually he'd found his answer in the blackest of dark cities; Mayong India. Called the Land of Black Magic, a witch sitting in a dingy alley gave him the clue for which he'd been searching.
The moment he'd walked into the alley, he could smell the rank odor of old spices and potions wafting between the stone buildings. Before Piruz even spoke, she said; "কন্ট্রোল কেস ফ্রম উইথিং." (Control comes from within.) He hadn't understood a word. Did this woman speak any other language? "من نمی فهمم. تو فارسی بلدی؟? (I do not understand. Do you speak Persian)? தமிழ்? (Tamil)?" Sighing, he shook his head, "Latine?"
The witch gave a cackling laugh, lifted her pipe to her lips and began puffing.
Piruz looked around, before he eventually lowered himself to the ground and sat beside the woman. For some reason he knew she was the one to answer his question. He had been around for generations, and was not fooled by outward appearances. He could feel her power, and he could wait for the answer. Someone would come along who could translate her language. He sat with her for five days before a man walked past, stopped and back tracked to the alley entrance. Frowning, he stepped slowly down the stone passage. He stared at the woman, then at Piruz. Finally, he asked the ancient woman, "ওহ ২ হে?" (Who is he?)
The woman shrugged.
Turning to Piruz, he looked him up and down before saying, "Qu'est-ce que vous voulez?" (What do you want?)
Piruz stood quickly. Frowning slightly, he said, "Parles-tu Latin?" (Do you speak Latin?)
The man nodded slowly. "Un peu." Shaking his head slightly, he amended, "A parum." (A little.)
Taking a deep breath, Piruz said slowly, "Femina dicitur aliquid magni momenti. I postulo scio. (She said something important. I need to know.)
The man looked uncertain. Glancing back down at the woman, he finally looked to Piruz again and said, "Ea tenebris. Certus es?" (She is darkness. Are you certain?)
Piruz merely nodded.
The man sighed. Turning to the woman, he said, "হে ওয়ান্টস তো কনো হোয়াট ইউ সেড. সৌল্ডা ইউ তেল হিঁ?" (He wants to know what you said before. Should you tell him?)
The woman merely shrugged, then said again, "কন্ট্রোল কেস ফ্রম উইথিং." (Control comes from within.)
The man looked to Piruz and said, "Imperium de intus est." After a moment, he repeated in French, "Le contrôle vient de l'intérieur."
Piruz looked down at the woman, then at the man standing in front of him. After a short length of time, he nodded. Turning to the woman, and bowed and said, "Yishar," in his native tongue, one he hadn't spoken in generations. (Thank you.) He gave the man who'd helped him out a small bow and walked from the alley.
Looking down at the woman, the man said, "ওহ ওয়াস হে, গ্রান্ডমঠের? (Who was he, grandmother?)
"ডেথ," (Death.)
.
Since leaving the alley, Piruz traveled for the next few months through India, contemplating the old woman's words and their meaning. He was dining at a small inn in Surat India drinking Aam Pana, a sweetened mango juice that was served hot, when he finally got it: the only thing that could control the Tree was the Tree itself. Another few days were spent mulling that over until a plan came to him whereby he could use the seeds from the Tree to contain the Mother's strength and influence. Unfortunately, his glee in the discovery was short lived. Like the Tree and the Branches, when separated from their source, they would simply disappear and return. They were a vital part of the Tree, the very representations of good intentions and bad. Thus began the long process of finding a way to confine the seeds away from the tree and to infuse them with enough of his own magic that they would stay where they were placed.
It was in India that he first learned of cocobolo wood and its benefits in containing magical objects of considerable strength. Excited, he traveled to Tenochtitlan in the land of the Andes. In Tenochtitlan, he acquired the wood and began creating the boxes. After designing a pattern of intricate protections and magical sigils - knowledge learned over his long life of learning - he hired two indigenous artists to carve those designs on the box lids. Unfortunately, during his spell trials, even the cocobolo wood would not keep the seeds confined for long, and too soon the seeds would return to the Tree. Frustrated, he knew he needed to make the seeds loyal to him rather than the Tree, at least for the length of time needed for the Chaos Spell to work. After several months of work, he found that infusing the seeds with his magic was an impossible task. The only solution left was to infuse the cocobolo wood with his magic.
He spent months working to infuse the stubborn wood with his own magic. Months turned into years before he was able to perfect his talismans. Then finally, he was ready to experiment again. It had taken centuries of work, but he had managed to complete the spell. The center of the spell was the Tree. Circling the geographical location of his country of choice were his magic infused box of seeds. As long as he controlled the center, he controlled all.
Present day
Dean focused on the road, though he allowed his mind to wander. New York was a large city, and he didn't know where Piruz would go. The Big Apple was the best city to get lost in, and there were hundreds of clubs and bars where he could hid his boxes. Maybe the correct path was to call Piruz out like he'd called them out. They weren't focused on trying to stop him from planting the boxes anymore; they really couldn't stop him. But they could hurt him, divert him, slow him down.
Caleb was staring out the side window, watching the scenery flash by. Dean knew he was thinking about Onida, that she wasn't with him, and what would happen if Piruz went to Lebanon and they weren't there.
"She'll be all right."
Caleb looked around. "Yeah, I know. But I can't help worrying."
Dean merely nodded. His gaze went to the rear view mirror, where Sam and Adam had their heads bent over a pad of paper and Sam's laptop. He knew they were searching for spells to help Joshua. For some reason Dean knew there weren't any. That was the reason Pastor Jim had spoken to him. This was a spell Joshua would need to create for himself. "How are we going to call out Piruz?"
Caleb glanced over again, and tapped his head. "Psychic signal should do it. You got a place in mind to meet?"
"What about Freshkills Park?" Sam called from the back seat. "It was a former landfill." Dean and Caleb eyed him from the front seat. "Seems appropriate," Sam shrugged. "Plus it gets him away from New York because it's in Staten Island."
"The name should get his attention," Adam added.
"Freshkills Park it is," Dean agreed.
Caleb glanced at his watch. "It's a seven and a half hour drive. We should arrive in New York close to nine tonight."
"Piruz likes to hit the clubs closer to eleven."
"If we can't hurt him, we can at least slow him down," Caleb said. "I let him know about an hour before we get there; give him time to find the park and meet us."
"I've got spell pouches already made," Adam said. He felt a little awkward coming along with the Triad of the Brotherhood, especially when Joshua wasn't around. Sure, he'd worked with these men last year in Washington on the Yakama Indian Reservation, and he'd been a frequent guest at Dean's and Caleb's during the past year. But all those times had been in the company of Joshua. Now, riding in the car with these men, he felt a bit out of place.
Feeling Adam's unease, Caleb turned around and asked, "What kind of spells are they? Anything stronger than what we used the other night?"
Adam nodded. "I made several of them stronger. This witch is very talented. I came at them from the position that he would be cloaking himself for protection. While the first hit shouldn't cause damage, continual hits will breach his defenses."
Caleb grinned. "Excellent."
"I am also talented in spells of misdirection and obfuscation. I can use those to make him look in other directions, make him look where you're not." Swallowing, Adam confessed tersely, "I don't have Joshua's power, but you'll have everything I've got."
Caleb turned around and said sincerely, "We appreciate you're being here, and we're grateful for everything you'll do tonight. And don't worry, we've got your back."
Adam relaxed and smiled. "I was counting on it."
Piruz drove into New York City, his eyes darting every which direction. While the west coast of the country was big and spread out, New York was tall, very tall. He had always been taken with how tall Petra's structures were, how they were built into the very fabric of the mountain side. New York structures were massive. They were clustered and packed together, crowding the streets. He wanted to get out and walk, to view the city, to see the sights and stop at the merchants lining the streets. In such ways, New York was very much like Petra.
Though he found the sights intriguing, driving through the downtown streets of New York was an exercise in frustration. Quickly he peeled off and went further from the hustle and bustle of that area toward the outer edges. It wasn't long before he saw a small house that had the familiar words Bed and Breakfast. Pulling into the drive, he maneuvered along the side of the house until he reached the back, where other vehicles were parked. It would be a long drive back to the center, but he'd made good time. He still had almost two days to finish the spell. All he needed to do was plant the boxes here, get a few hours sleep, and return to the road.
He knew Merlin's Warriors would try to stop him here. They did not know that this city was only the last waystation on his plan, that the spell would be finished elsewhere. So they would meet again. He was sorry the Warrior with the blade would not be present, if he even remained alive. In both their last encounters he had been a worthy adversary in battle. He wanted to know how he'd countered all his spells, wanted to know about the blade he'd used. But, he'd chosen to sacrifice that knowledge to end the assault. Now he would deal with Merlin's Child and the Teacher.
Exiting his vehicle, he walked into the beautiful house and was greeted by a smiling attendant who welcomed him into their home. Yes, while there were many things he missed about the places of his youth, there were many more things he loved about the time he planned on ruling.
He was escorted to a room on the second floor, one that was elegantly furnished. He'd learned that young persons who carried your luggage to a room were compensated with something called a tip. He didn't understand this practice, as he supposed the attendants received a wage from the establishment for their work. However, he tendered some bills to the young man and closed the door. He had just reached the bed when a sharp pain went through his head. Stumbling, he went to his knees.
Hey, Piruz… Did you think I was dead? Think again…
Piruz frowned. The voice was in his head, but he knew this was the Warrior with the blade. How had he survived his potion? It was one of the first he'd perfected when he was young, the one he'd used on hired servants when he took his family's cloths to market in Petra. He knew it worked. The bodies he'd buried along the route testified to that.
Hel-lo… …
Quid vis?!
Audi iterum; et veniet ludere. (Listen again; come out and play.)
A picture of a large open space entered Piruz's head, then faded away.
Struggling to his feet, Piruz threw his duffel onto the bed and shouted, "Maledicit!" The potion thrown at the Warrior was meant to take him to the brink of death. How had he recovered so quickly? Growling, he paced the plush bedroom, thinking. The Warrior had survived and recovered. The mystery of how this was so would need to be set aside for the moment. Now was the time for a revised plan. Merlin's Warriors knew he was in New York; he'd had already known that. But where they here already? He suspected not. His plan for the night had not included dealing with all three of Merlin's Warriors. Thus, he would slow their approach, allowing him time to place his boxes before their arrival. Stepping to his case, he placed it atop the bed. Lifting the lid, he unpacked a heavy stone bowl, a bronze plate and a silver pistil. Next he pulled several boxes of herbs, spices and extracts. If Merlin's Warriors thought to interfere with his plans, then he would also interfere with theirs.
Caleb walked into the convenience store for four coffees. They'd been driving for six and a half hours and Dean wanted to stop for gas before they got closer to New York. He didn't plan on refueling again until their work tonight was done and they were well on their way to Kansas. Inside, he picked up a few packets of nuts, some jerky, power bars for Sam and maybe Adam, four waters and four cups of coffee.
He was returning to the car when he heard the voice.
Ego beatos vos etiam. (I can call you as well.)
Piruz wasn't inside his head; Caleb was too good for that. But somehow through the air, the wizard projected his voice. Glancing around, no one nearby seemed to have heard anything. Interesting. Lengthening his stride, he thought back, Tibi bonum est. (Good for you.)
Sam frowned and looked over his shoulder. He and Adam were standing near the car, stretching their legs. As soon as he saw Caleb's face he shoved Adam back into the car and ran around to Dean, who was pulling the nozzle of the hose from the Impala's tank.
Non erit tibi felix, Bellator. (You will not be successful, Warrior.)
If you want to rule this world, you need to learn English. There was silence. Caleb thought again, Discere Anglicus, (Learn English).
Dean had the car idling as Caleb practically tossed the bottles and food through the passenger door and climbed inside, balancing the coffees.
"Go, go, go!" Caleb shouted. "I have a feeling Piruz isn't remotely pleased I'm not dead!"
Dean rammed his foot onto the gas pedal and peeled out of the Pilot Truck Stop. The Impala was screaming down the frontage road just as a wave of energy slammed into the driver's side of the car. If he hadn't had such a tight grip on the wheel, the Impala would have slid right off the road into the ditch running alongside.
"What did he say?" Sam asked, his fingers clenched on the front seat.
"Said we wouldn't be successful," Caleb stated, gripping the door handle as the Impala swayed to the left, dodging another wave of energy.
"Yada, yada, yada," Dean muttered.
A tree from the side of the road uprooted itself and sailed in their direction. Dean jerked the wheel, narrowly missing the massive roots and trunk.
"Did he talk to you psychically?" Sam asked.
"No," Caleb said, bracing himself against the car door as Dean swung the Impala to the left. "More like when he talked to Dean at the gas station; magically."
Adam jerked around and looked out the back window, watching as the tree narrowly missed an SUV and a sedan. "There are other cars on the road. Aren't people frightened? Won't they call the police?"
"Most people won't call the police," Sam said, his eyes on the road ahead. "They'll come up with a logical explanation."
"Oh?" Adam said, turning back around. "Like what?"
"A Dust Devil," Caleb said. Being from the Midwest, tornados were a common occurrence.
Dean veered the car to the right again, narrowly avoiding a bolt of energy that would have surely dented the frame. "Can't you two gang up on him, somehow? Give him the whammy?"
"The whammy?" Caleb scoffed, hitting the door hard as Dean swerved to the right.
"Against magic?" Sam said on a yelp as the car careened to the right.
"Use your Darth Vader grip with Sam's help." Dean swung the car into oncoming traffic as another blast of energy exploded on the right side of the car. Unfortunately, a sixteen wheeler was coming directly at them. "He has to think to do magic, right?"
"Dean!" exclaimed Adam.
Dean merely grunted, jerking the wheel even further to the left. The car slid down the left shoulder of the road, tires churning dirt and debris in its wake. The sixteen-wheeler screamed by on their right, horn blaring the entire time. Muscling the car back onto the road and into the correct lane, Dean suddenly spun the wheel into a screeching right turn, careening down a road leading away from the highway.
"Where are you going?" Sam asked, hanging onto the seat for dear life.
"Where there may not be other cars," Dean said just as two trucks and three SUVs drove past.
"Good thinking," Caleb muttered.
Dean glared in his direction. "Do something!"
Caleb huffed and turned around toward Sam. "Okay, how about showing this guy what the Knight and the Scholar of the Triad can do?"
Sam eyed Caleb warily. "Like what?"
"Like Darth Vader and Alastair all at once."
Sam gulped. He hated what he'd done to Alastair.
Another wave of energy slammed the Impala, denting the driver's side door.
"Son of a…" Dean exclaimed. "He damaged my Baby!" Glancing out the rear view mirror, his eyes widened as a large commercial truck came barreling toward them. "Damn it," he muttered, jamming the gas pedal to the floor.
The truck slammed into the rear of the Impala, causing it to skid forward. Only Dean's increase in speed kept them from being hit harder. "Anytime, gentlemen."
Sam nodded, and he and Caleb closed their eyes as Adam watched.
Keeping an eye on the truck, Dean was relieved to see the large vehicle growing smaller in the rear view. Gaze sliding to Adam, he said, "Don't worry. They'll take care of him."
Frowning, Adam asked, "How?"
Dean tapped his head, then quickly grabbed the wheel as a fire hydrant flew through the air, headed directly for the front windshield. "Son of a…" he muttered, slamming his foot on the break while simultaneously jerking the wheel to the right. Caleb slammed backward into the dashboard while Sam and Adam hit the front seats. Dean reached out and grasped Caleb's shirt, pulling him forward.
"Ouch," Caleb drawled slowly, rubbing at his shoulders, aching from having collided with the dash.
"Are you all right?" Sam asked, massaging his neck gingerly.
Caleb growled. "No. That bitch is going down." Grasping Sam's arms, he closed his eyes and focused.
Sam followed suit, concentrating on adding his strength to Caleb's.
A bruise was rising on Adam's forehead from being slammed into the front seat, and his neck ached from whiplash. When this was all over, he planned on staying home … maybe forever.
Dean touched lightly on the brakes and spun his car around to face the direction they'd come, causing the car behind them to sound its horn. Pressing again on the gas pedal, he headed back to the Interstate.
"Where are you going?" Adam asked.
"This guy thinks he can get us off his tail." Jerking his head toward Caleb and Sam, he continued, "He's got another thing coming."
Caleb focused on finding Piruz, on where he was at. He'd felt his essence in New York already. He wasn't as good at finding people he didn't know. But he knew the essence of Piruz, his age, his power. That's what he sought. He could feel Sam's energy and power, such immense power lurking just behind him. He knew the instant Piruz felt them coming. The wizard was, after all, using his own abilities - enhanced by magic - to attack them. Yet instead of attacking Piruz directly, he took a page out of Dean's book and threw up a giant mental shield. He felt Piruz's power slam against it and rebound.
Sam, he thought. Hold the shield.
Once Sam was holding onto the shield, Caleb went around the barrier. While choking Piruz would be cathartic after the bastard had almost killed him, he instead took inspiration from Onida and went for the hypothalamus at the base of the brain near the pituitary gland. Focusing hard, he concentrated on putting pressure there. If he did it right, Piruz's temperature would rise and his blood pressure would fluctuate. Hopefully, he would lose consciousness and the attack would cease.
Sam felt Piruz falter and fight, driving energy upon energy at his shield while attempting to dislodge Caleb. Finally, Piruz hurled a particularly potent measure of energy at the shield and backed away, slamming the door in his wake.
Caleb dropped back nearly onto the floor of the Impala, his forehead against the front seat.
"Damien!" Dean exclaimed, throwing his arm across Caleb's back to prevent him from falling onto the floor.
"He's … okay," Sam panted, his head back against the rear seat, eyes closed and panting.
"Are you?" Dean asked, turning back onto the frontage road and speeding toward the Interstate on ramp.
"Pretty much," Sam said on an exhale. "Headache."
"Damien, are you in there?"
There was a moment of silence, before Caleb murmured, "Yeah, fine." Slowly he shifted until he was sitting properly in the front seat. Chuckling wearily, he said, "I don't think he liked that one bit."
Sam smiled. "Nope, I think he's mad as hell."
Piruz opened his eyes to find himself staring up at the ceiling. Frowning, he looked around. He was in the bedroom he'd acquired in the Bed and Breakfast home. Suddenly he remembered being attacked by two of Merlin's Warriors and his face twisted in fury. The Scholar, the Teacher was a Seer. Instead of one Seer in his trio of Warriors, this incarnation of Merlin's protectors had two. Shoving himself to his knees, he climbed to his feet. Impudent children playing with power they knew so little about. Yes, they were powerful, but what he knew had taken millennia to gain. If they wanted to take him on, he would show them all he had learned since meeting up with Merlin so many centuries ago. Though these be Merlin's legacy, he would tolerate their interference no longer. He couldn't afford the distraction. No more would he coddle them, no more would he give them his tolerance in Merlin's name.
Pulling out herbs from his store, he made a potion to restore his strength and give him peace. He would need that peace and rest before taking them on this night. They wanted to meet at a place called Freshkills Park? Maybe he would make sure they stayed there forever.
.
TBC
Author's Notes:
The old woman in the alley is speaks Assamese – Spoken in Medieval Mayong India
Thank you all so much again for posting reviews. They're wonderful connections to letting me know you're reading and enjoying this story. I appreciate it!
summerb7l21 re: last review - I so get that! lol At least you know the story has been written and will get up on the site. Since we're quarantined, I've been trying to get the chapters up quicker. Guess everyone else is playing online too, cause my Internet connection has been so slow and spotty, its been a challenge. But hang in there!