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The Purity of Sin

Five

A furred paw tentatively knocked on the stone doorframe of the inner chapel before entering the solemn room where the High Priest prayed for guidance.

"You have an update?" asked the kneeling figure, a black Mackan in white robes.

"Yes, High Priest," the green robed Mackan with sandy fur replied, voice somber. "It is not good."

The High Priest sighed and rose from his position of prayer, turning from the statue of Lady Leora with a low bow to his fellow Mackan. "What news?"

"Brother Bostic has succumbed to his injuries, High Priest. Along with Initiate Mavis and Sister Salara that makes three casualties. We also numerous injured, but they all look to pull through."

"Three dead," the High Priest repeated, expression darkening. "That Paladin of Voltron murdered three of our own." He uttered a soft curse. "And of the sacrifice, Brother Milnew?"

"The blood trail vanished shortly after they exited the compound," Milnew responded. "We have teams searching the area for any trace, but unless the Paladins of Voltron choose to remain in one place we are unlikely to find them right now."

The High Priest cursed again. Their own planet seemed to be against them. The heat combined with the rock surface literally baked the blood droplets and turned their scent to nothing more than another part of the desert. Unless they could sniff out a large or fresh source their sensitive noses were all but useless.

He knew the sacrifice would not cease bleeding from the Purity wound inflicted, which would provide them with the opportunity for a decent chance. But that too posed a problem for if the sacrifice bled out before they were able to complete the ceremony it would be just as tragic as his disappearance.

They needed to find him. The Purity of Sin could not be performed again until it had been completed on the current sacrifice. If they lost this chance… the High Priest shuddered. They would never be able to complete the ritual again and then they would truly go to ruin. Their very livelihoods depended on finding the Paladin of Voltron and completing the ritual.

"How much blood do we have of the sacrifice?" the High Priest asked, a dangerous idea coming to his desperate mind and he silently thanked the goddess for her timely intervention.

"Not much, I am afraid. Just the offering you made and whatever pooled on the Sacrifice Stone. May I ask why?"

The High Priest did not answer, but strode over to a small altar and reached underneath, coming back up with a thick tome. He rubbed a paw across it, revealing a series of symbols in brilliant silver lettering.

"It has not been performed for generations, but I know of a ritual that will aid us," the High Priest said, reverently setting the book atop the altar and flipping through it to a page that it seemed an outward force was directing him to. "We will still require the sacrifice's physical body to finish it, but we can enact the purification of the other Sins from a distance with the correct ingredients."

He would have to be careful as he could not afford to kill the sacrifice through blood loss. But the other Paladin of Voltron had shown to hold his companion's life dear. The High Priest knew that he would do all he could to save the life of the sacrifice. He was counting on that.

"Meaning, High Priest?" Milnew's voice cut through his ruminations and the High Priest blinked amber eyes back to present.

"With each Sin that we purify the sacrifice will become easier to recapture," he explained. "Once he is both purified of Sight and Sound he will be defenseless and weak from the effects of the sacrificial cuts. The problem lies with his companion. He is dangerous, more than I possibly could have imagined, although we will rely on him to keep the sacrifice alive until we can retrieve him."

"Your orders then, High Priest?"

"Summon the Council of Elders here. We will begin the process of enacting the Purity of Sin once again. Continue to send our forces to seek the sacrifice; time is of the essence. We need him alive or all of this is for naught. Maintain the barrier around their ships as well so they cannot leave."

The brown Mackan bowed. "I will see it done."

"And Brother Milnew?"

"Yes?"

"Regarding the other Paladin of Voltron… he is too dangerous to be kept for a future sacrifice. All Mackans have permission to kill him on sight once we have the sacrifice in our possession."

Milnew bowed again. "It shall be done. The Red and Black Paladin of Voltron will pay for the lives he has taken." His own expression darkened. "He will not live long enough to see another sunrise."

xxx

Keith's upper leg was starting to grow uncomfortably warm even in the frigid night air.

He shifted slightly, trying to figure out why his left thigh felt almost damp when there was no humidity to speak of here. Even with Lance pressed up against him no other part of Keith was experiencing the same dampness.

He patted his leg, definitely feeling something moist and held up his fingers to the meager light of the seaweed plants. His breath caught as he realized what was coating the tips of his fingers.

Blood.

But… how? Where? The copper scent was unmistakable now and he shifted Lance again, who let out a soft huff of air on Keith's neck at the motion. And the former Red Paladin realized with sinking horror that the blood was coming from Lance's hand.

Lance's hand that should have been clotted at this point and he knew was well secure because he'd bandaged it himself. He pulled his left arm and hand free of Lance's loose grip and maneuvered Lance's right hand up from where it was pressed between their two legs.

Blood was most definitely dripping from the limb and the bandages were absolutely saturated. He eased it carefully onto his own upturned knee and began to pull the cloth free. His stomach clenched as removing the last piece revealed that the injury was just as fresh as when he'd wrapped it a couple hours ago.

Lance stirred against him and although he could not hear it Keith could practically feel him whimper with pain.

He did hear something else though. There was the faintest scuff of something moving over the stone from the direction of the Mackans' base.

Keith turned to Lance, to see that the other boy's eyes were open now, uncertainty and pain swimming in them while still hazy with sleep. He couldn't hear whatever was coming, Keith realized.

"Mackans," Keith breathed and he hated how that uncertainty was replaced now with fear even if the rest of Lance did become more alert. There was nothing to be done for it though. Keith gently took Lance's still bleeding hand off his leg and bent it at the elbow, Lance catching on and cradling it to him, eyes wide.

Keith then rose silently to his feet. Lance reached out and caught hold of his leg, resolve taking the place of the fear in his eyes. Keith shook his head though. Not yet. He converted his knife into a sword and crossed the few feet to where the edge of the cliff jutted out, hiding him from view.

He could hear the scuffing even more clearly now and the low tone of voices. And to his surprise they were speaking in English, or the universal tongue.

"—getting closer," murmured a voice. "We got lucky, hmm?"

"The High Priest will be so grateful," the Mackan's companion said. "Good thing the sacrifice has such a delicious blood scent."

Keith felt his own blood freeze. He'd been right. They did have a good sense of smell and they had found them thanks to Lance's injury. Although it sounded like they hadn't picked up any of the earlier trails they'd left while running so perhaps it needed to be a large source?

He glanced down at his pants leg, aware that it was still damp and wondering how much Lance had lost now.

"It's around this bend," the first Mackan said. "Remember though, the sacrifice's companion is dangerous. Be cautious."

Damn straight, Keith thought. Dangerous and deadly.

He didn't like killing. When he was given the choice Keith would gladly leave opponents alive and merely injured so he and his team could get away. He knew his fellow Paladins were the same way.

But sometimes there was no other choice. And right now he didn't have another choice. He and Lance were severely outnumbered and outgunned and if they wanted any chance at staying alive themselves he couldn't afford to hold back. It sounded like there were only two. He could dispatch two. Hopefully.

Keith didn't even announce his presence, as he knew an honorable opponent should do. But honor would do them no favors here and if he failed then Lance was as good as dead. It went against his code but it couldn't be helped. Sometimes you didn't always get what you wanted.

He stepped out from behind the outcrop, sword already slicing through the air because in addition to the magic he was already at a disadvantage as the Mackans clearly were able to see much better in the dark than him.

He was rewarded with the sharp cry of a Mackan as his sword met flesh and fur and he ripped it through, severing the bobcat at the shoulders. The other one, voice panicked, shouted out a spell the bright light lit up the space.

Keith took the hit on his left arm, feeling the limb go numb just like last time. But he lunged forward in that additional burst of light and impaled the second Mackan. He tried to ignore the gurgling it made as he pulled his sword back out and it crashed to the ground with a thump, his own heart beating too loudly in his ears at the subsequent silence. He subconsciously noted that apparently once the caster was dead the spell's effect was removed as feeling returned to his limb.

Lance had come running at this point, hearing the cry, but he came to a screeching halt upon the scene. Keith stood, silhouetted by moonlight, above two very clearly dead Mackans… Lance had thought there might be three but then realized that one was in two pieces.

His stomach rolled and he barely moved in time to avoid throwing up on his feet, heaving what he'd eaten for lunch earlier. His head spun and he had to reach out and catch himself on the cliff face.

"Too late for 'don't look, huh?" Keith said quietly, coming up behind him. "Sorry, Lance."

Lance shook his head weakly. He reached out with his left hand and placed it atop Keith's holding the sword, giving it a squeeze and trying to convey that he understood. He was more worried for Keith than himself. He knew Keith had killed before but this… this had been unusually violent even for him.

"I'm okay," Keith said, interpreting the gesture correctly. "We have to get moving though. They're tracking us by your blood."

As one they looked to Lance's hand, which had painted his chest now with macabre red stripes.

"Here," Keith said, holding up a piece of robe. Lance realized he must have just cut it off one of the dead Mackans. "Let's go rinse you off and wrap it. Then we'll head to the water source I found for now."

Lance nodded, but the motion sent him stumbling and only Keith's quick movements kept him from falling to the ground. He felt suddenly incredibly light-headed and despite the already dark conditions he saw more spots in his vision.

Keith cursed. "You've lost too much blood," he muttered.

Ah. That made sense. He allowed Keith to hoist him up and practically half-carry him back to their pitiful campsite as his legs suddenly seemed to not understand how to walk on their own. Keith helped him sit back against the cliff face.

"Hand," came the quiet demand and Lance managed to lift it from where he was cradling it on his lap. Keith wasted no time and poured another plant tube of water over it. Lance flinched, but the pain cleared his head a bit and he was more alert as Keith deftly bandaged it again, this time wrapping it several times over.

"It's not healing," Keith told him, voice curt with what Lance recognized was worry and not anger. "We've got to keep as much pressure on it as we can, all right? Can you make a fist?"

Lance tried, his fingers stiff from both pain and cold, but he did manage to clench them into his palm. It hurt like nothing else and he nearly released it, but Keith's hand descended on top of his and pushed down even harder that had him uttering a silent scream.

"Keep it like that," Keith ordered. He stood. "I'll be right back. Drink a tube of water. Otherwise don't move."

Lance blinked back tears of both frustration and pain. He felt so useless, sitting here and apparently acting as a giant beacon for the Mackans to find them. He wanted to help, show Keith that he was (near) his equal and not someone that needed protecting. And yet here he was, needed protecting because he could barely even walk on his own.

He picked up the second to last plant and forced himself to drink the whole thing, gagging silently at the putrid taste. He knew he needed it though.

Keith returned a few moments later, another piece of robe slung over his arm and distinctively larger than the other piece. He knelt down next to Lance and swung it about his shoulders, bunching the ends together and tying it into a knot. It was a little half cape, reminding Lance fondly of when he used to tie shirts together and pretend he was a superhero with his siblings.

It only made it to mid-back, but anything was more comfortable than nothing and he shot Keith a grateful smile. Keith gave a nod back, in the process of removing a strip of cloth from about his own neck and replacing it with a new one he'd also commandeered from the robe.

The lighting was still dim, even with their glowing plants, but Lance could clearly see dried blood on Keith's neck and he tapped his good hand against Keith in alarm. When had he gotten hurt?

"It's fine," Keith said shortly, tying off his bandage. "I'll explain later," he said, as Lance frowned at the answer. "Come on, we have go. There's a lot of blood here and they'll probably find it soon."

Lance's stomach rolled again at why there was so much blood staining this area, but he kept whatever he had left inside him this time. He accepted Keith's hand to pull him back to standing, the world swaying as he reoriented himself.

"It's not too far," Keith said, hovering at Lance's side and keeping one steadying hand on Lance's upper arm. "You okay to go?"

Lance went to nod, thought better of it, and instead gave Keith a thumbs up.

"Stay close," Keith advised, picking up one of the glowing plants and keeping his sword drawn.

They moved slower than Keith would have liked, his ears straining the entire trip for any sound that was not him or Lance. He was actually rather impressed; for as unsteady as Lance was he was moving near soundlessly and keeping up the brisk walk.

Keith led them down a rather steep incline, Lance having to brace himself on the rock wall that rose up, and down even further into an almost canyon-like area.

"It's just over here," he said, rounding a bend that contained a large rock full of the coral-like plants. Lance could spot several that had been ripped off where Keith had gathered them earlier.

And true to his word, a small pool, likely some type of underground spring, bubbled up underneath the cliff overhang while the narrow path continued further down before evening out on the basin of the canyon.

"We'll stay here for the rest of the night. Drink what you can; we're not going to be able to really carry any water with us later."

Lance filled up the plant he had been carrying and took a seat against one of the walls, angling himself in the direction they'd come from.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Lance looked over his shoulder as Keith sat down next to him. The sniper mimed with one hand, still keeping the other clenched, a telescope.

"No. No watch. You need rest."

Lance frowned and shook his head carefully. He pointed at himself and then tapped his right wrist, looking at Keith expectantly.

"Your turn?" the half-Galran guessed. "for watch?"

Lance nodded.

"You need the rest more," Keith said quietly. "I'll be fine."

Lance scowled at him now, the effect ruined as now that he'd stopped moving his body was reminding him it was still very cold and he shivered violently. The half-cloak was helpful, but it still wasn't enough for the frigid night.

Keith sighed and Lance was more than surprised when without any prompting Keith looped his arm about his shoulders and drew him against his side. "Sleep," Keith ordered. "You can take watch during the day tomorrow when we can see. Right now my hearing is the only advantage we have."

And he had a major point there. Still, it felt wrong. They'd agreed to share the watch. And Keith was injured too. At the reminder, Lance tilted his head back so he could get a better view at the bandage Keith had hastily applied.

"You're going to get light-headed like that," Keith scolded not unkindly. He seemed to be getting better at understanding Lance's cues – and really, he wondered, had Lance always been this expressive? – and realized that Lance had been looking at his injury.

"I was a reckless hotheaded idiot," he said in answer to the question. "Just like you guys are always telling me."

Lance was not satisfied with that and elbowed Keith. Hard.

"Ouch! Okay, fine," Keith huffed. "I couldn't bust out of the barrier so I sort of threatened to kill myself if someone didn't lower it. They needed me alive and all for the other sacrifice so…"

He could feel Lance's look of horror.

"It worked, didn't it?" he defended. "I'm fine. It's really just a scratch."

Lance scooted himself so he was a little higher and then purposefully knocked his left fist on top of Keith's head.

Keith couldn't even rub the sore spot, his right hand full with his sword and his left being commandeered by Lance so he settled for a light glare that didn't even phase Lance, who mouthed the word "idiot" at him.

"Hey, I was trying to save your life. I didn't…" Keith trailed off as Lance's expression turned somber. He sighed. "Look, it all worked out. And I wouldn't have actually slit my neck, promise. But I was in a hurry because I didn't know what was happening to you and… well, I came too late anyways," his voice dropped even more. "I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner."

Lance threaded their hands together again and squeezed it, although whether he was trying to comfort Keith, himself or both of them Keith wasn't sure. And a few months ago he wouldn't have found the gesture at all welcome, but things had certainly changed. They'd changed from even just this afternoon.

"We'll get your voice back," he promised softly, returning the press. "And we're both going to get out of this alive."

Lance mouthed something at him then, repeating it a few times until Keith finally realized what he was trying to say.

"Bonding moment, huh?" Keith translated. "Will you remember this one?"

He got another bony elbow to his ribs.

"Do you really not remember that?" He had always thought Lance had pretended not to out of the embarrassment of actually being held in Keith's arms, but he was beginning to revise his opinion. Lance got embarrassed about many things, but hugs and touches were generally not one of them. That made him think it wasn't the action that Lance refused to acknowledge, but the person, and it made his chest hurt with something he couldn't quite describe.

Lance shook his head. "You don't remember?" Keith clarified and Lance nodded. A tightness that he didn't realize he had been holding loosened.

Lance tapped the side of his head and looked at Keith expectantly.

"Head?"

He nodded and then held up his bandaged hand, still clenched in a fist despite the pain that likely caused.

"Hand?"

A shake. Lance pointed at the bandages.

"Bandage? Hurt? Injury?"

He got a thumbs up on his last guess.

"Oh," Keith said, feeling like an idiot as pieces clicked. "Head injury. You had a head injury from the blast. So you...you really didn't remember any of it."

Lance nodded.

"I always thought…" Keith shook his head. "Nevermind. It's not important."

He got another rib jab for that. "What?" he snapped, already feeling a bruise forming. That hurt.

Lance linked their hands again and held them up. He looked awfully apologetic and sad and Keith tried to figure out what he was trying to convey. Lance squeezed their hands with a firm nod.

"You're… upset?" Keith hedged and Lance nodded encouragingly. "You're upset that you… got hurt?"

Lance huffed out a sigh. He shook their joined limbs and stared pointedly at Keith.

"You're upset you don't remember," Keith said slowly, earning a sad smile and a nod. "Why… why would that upset you?"

Lance rolled his eyes at that and in answer snuggled back against Keith, pillowing his head once more on Keith's chest and pulling the pilfered arm more over his shoulders.

Keith felt something warm fill him then; the same feeling he got when Shiro praised him or gave him a hug. It was nice. It felt… it felt like belonging.

"Get some sleep," he murmured. "We're going to move out at first light." Assuming the Mackans didn't find them first.

Lance's hand didn't appear to have soaked through this set of bandages (yet, his stomach clenched) so hopefully the creatures weren't getting any fresh trail and this location was far enough from the previous one that it wouldn't be a straight shot to them.

Keith's body ached for rest too, but he couldn't give into its demands. Not yet. Not until it was daylight and Lance's sharp eyes could act as lookout for a few hours.

They also needed food. It hadn't been a major priority of Keith's because it was possible to survive for a while without it, even in these abysmal conditions. But Lance's body was losing blood fast and water was not enough to replenish it. Food would help.

Keith shot another look to the bandaged hand, that Lance had pressed between their legs to keep additional pressure on it while he slept, having already drifted off into a restless slumber. Keith knew it was the combination of exhaustion and the heavy blood loss as his body tried to recover in the only way it could. Keith pulled him a little closer, trying to draw comfort from Lance's soft breaths warming his shoulder and not give into the slight panic that was starting to rise up.

When it had just been Lance's voice that had been taken he thought they would be fine. It was inconvenient, sure, and clearly very scary for Lance, but it was manageable. But now with the blood loss and the threat that it was possible for Lance to lose other senses that he absolutely could not afford to lose if they wanted to avoid capture… he didn't know if he could do this.

Lance was counting on him though. He knew the sharpshooter would likely take offense at such an observation, being strongly independent and determined to prove himself as just as capable of holding his own as the rest of the team. And Keith knew he could. But now he was injured and handicapped and in a lot of continuous pain that they had no way of easing.

Not only that, he could still feel Lance shivering even as he slept and with the addition of the robe. Sadly, the material was not very thick, which made sense given the Mackans already had a full coat of fur. It was doing very little to actually warm Lance, but it had seemed like a good gesture at the time and Lance had seemed to draw comfort from it.

It was only going to get worse, Keith realized with a sinking feeling. They had a long while still to go and Lance's condition was not going to improve during that time. It would be a miracle if it stayed where it was at present.

The reckless part of him wanted to rush the base, locate their armor and hope that he could get a signal out to the others even from this distance. But he'd seen the inside already. It was a massive, twisting space of halls and doors and the only reason he'd located Lance was the loud chanting.

Their armor could be anywhere and he didn't have the luxury of time to search every room. Not when the Mackans wielded magic that could stop him at any second from a distance. Noting that the effects disappeared if the caster was killed was useful, but there were hundreds upon hundreds of Mackans. He couldn't kill them all before he was overwhelmed.

No. Waiting for a rescue was their best chance of survival. That still didn't make it a good choice. It just happened to be the only one that they could pursue.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, bowing his head. "I'm… I'm no good at this. I don't know why Shiro thought I'd be a good leader. I… I have no idea what I'm doing."

His gaze narrowed then. "But I promise… I'll get us out of this. We're… we're going to be okay." He wouldn't let anything else happen to Lance. Seeing him nearly die twice was more than enough to last him the rest of his lifetime and that strange, desperate urge to protect that he'd only ever felt for Shiro reared its head.

And turning his eyes to the path, Keith hoped he didn't just make a promise that he could not keep.

xxx

Author's Notes:

A little dash of Mackan, a serving of angry and protective Keith, a sprinkle of fluff and bonding and then a scoop of Langst... Mmm, delicious. I also have this terrible desire to make a "Keith Kill Counter" just like DBZ Abridged's "Krillin Owned Counter" but it seems a little morbid. For anyone counting though, we are at five. :p

Thank you to the lovely reviewers for the equally lovely comments. You guys are a big part of the reason I write and I really appreciate your taking the time to leave a review. Thanks to: Subtle Shenanigans, dragoscilvio, yazbk2988, WhiteTails, WingedFlower, kate, MandyRaccoon, Alexa, LishaChan, momoluvr11, imagine forevermore, PaintedWings45, Pfeh, Justanangryfangirl, Adrianna Agray, Rookblonkorules and hobbes101!

As always, please do drop a comment below! I love hearing favorite scenes or sections or dialogue or thoughts or really anything that strikes your fancy. Please and thank you!