AN: Well, here's another chapter. I've been writing, re-writing, and adding as much as I could. I can't edit it anymore because I would be working on it forever. So please, enjoy and, as always, I appreciate any feedback. Thanks for reading!

Also, thanks a bunch to Dawnie-7 and PirateGyrl for your continuous reviews. You guys are awesome!

Chapter 11: The Legend of Whitesbane and the Black Volume

It's an old fairy tale she'd heard since she was a little girl. The legend of Whitesbane and the Black Volume, also known as la légende du fléau blanc et du volume noir. She didn't really remember where she'd first heard it, but her mother had told it to her many times, and then, as she got older, she remembered dreaming of the castle, and the other cast of characters, wishing to be a princess, much like girls her age had wanted to be Ariel, Belle, or Cinderella.

This is how the story went: once upon a time, there lived an evil prince who ruled over all of his people with a heavy hand and hate in his heart. He showed mercy to no one, no matter how minor his or her infraction. He was obsessed only with power; possessing it, keeping it, and using it. Nothing gave him as much excitement as exerting his power over others. He was a sadistic abomination of a human being.

One day, a beautiful young lady came to visit the palace. She was young, no more than twenty years old, and had a long mane of auburn hair paired with cat-like green eyes. She had suffered a terrible crime against her family, she cried to the prince, but he simply stared at her, stoic. She'd returned home from market and found her entire family murdered, her baby brother, mother and father.

The prince held her as she cried, but his face never lost its stony countenance. She was alone, helpless, and had come to him for help, for justice, for vengeance. Smoothing her silky hair with his hand, he felt an opportunity forming in his mind and he began to smile kindly.

"I will help you find the man that murdered your family," he told her, "if you will promise to be my wife."

Now, this young woman was not a fool. She'd heard talk of how brutal the prince was and shied away from becoming his wife. But, with her family now gone, she only had one response, because if she refused him, she felt sure that there would be even more dire consequences.

She agreed to be his wife, unaware that the prince himself had murdered her family with his own hands, knowing that she would come to him for justice and because she was the most beautiful girl in the whole village she was the only acceptable maiden to take as his wife.

Once she'd been married for one year, she learned a dark secret whispered by the chambermaids and underlings of the castle. The prince had a source of power. An old witch, named Lilith, who lived in the bowels of the castle, casting spells and making evil potions and poisons for the prince.

The young woman, now a princess, ventured to the bowels of the castle, searching for an explanation, because she'd noticed strange happenings while living in the castle for the past year and magic would have been the only logical explanation for these odd occurrences.

She was shocked to hear her husband's voice, who was supposed to be out riding his beloved horse, Caligula, carrying down a corridor not far from where she lurked.

"I want it finished, damn you!" he screamed like a thwarted child. A voice she'd come to fear. The tone he'd taken was his most dangerous because at his most childish he was his most brutal.

"My liege," the old woman's voice cackled, "it will be done shortly. The next circle of the moon and it will be ready."

"I've given you plenty of time," his voice rose again, "and I'll give you the extra time, you old hag. But if it's not done by then, you'll be attending your own execution."

She peeked around the corner and saw an older woman, not quite as old as she would've thought, but certainly old enough to be in her fifties. She bowed as the prince turned and stalked away, passing right by the princess' hiding place. Once his footsteps faded, she heard the old woman muttering to herself. Suddenly emboldened, the princess made her presence known and stepped out into the flickering firelight.

"My lady," the old witch's voice crackled like dry leaves as she smiled and leapt to a low bow.

The princess smiled kindly at the old woman. "I'm in need of your help," she said softly.

"Anything," the witch whispered. "Your highness is welcome to anything she desires."

"I need to know what my husband, the prince, has been doing. What you are making for him?"

The witch looked horrified for a moment and then spit on the ground. "It's too horrible, my lady. Please don't make me speak of it."

"Tell me," the princess continued, insistent.

"I've created for him a book, which, when read aloud, can bring about the darkest power this world has ever seen."

The princess studied the old woman's face and narrowed her eyes. "And what power would that be?" she asked.

"The end of the world," the old woman said. "The owner of the book can call forth the plagues, have anything they desire, and wreak havoc on our world. There will be nothing out of his reach."

"Why did you do this for him?" she asked, shocked at the force of this book.

"Because, my lady, he'll kill me. He's already murdered my only family in the world. I had a man once. Then, when the prince learned of what I could do, I came home from picking herbs for my potions and I learned that my man had been sent away to war, under orders from the prince. Days later, he'd died. That's when he summoned me."

The princess felt her heart tug for this woman, who, she could tell, had been beautiful once. "I am so sorry for your loss," she said, taking the hand of the witch, "for the troubles you've suffered. I too lost my family. That's how I met the prince. I had no one else."

The witch nodded sadly, "yes, I know."

"Then there is something I need you to do for me," the princess said conspiratorially.

"What did she ask the witch to do?" Johnny asked, acutely engrossed in the story. He'd never heard this fairy tale and it didn't sound like any he'd heard before. More often than not, they were about beautiful princesses in castles, or held in high towers by their evil stepmothers.

"She asked the witch to create a book that would undo the magic of the evil book, called the Book of Whitesbane," Becca said. She'd not heard the story since she was a child and some parts of it were a bit fuzzy.

"But this book, this, 'Black Volume,'" Johnny continued, "it can't possibly exist. It's just a story."

"Apparently it might," Becca shuddered.

"And Victor's after it?" Johnny whispered.

"It appears that's the case," Becca ventured, "but hopefully we'll be out of here before I can finish decoding the whole thing. If I could I'd toss both scrolls in the fire right now."

"That would probably be ill-advised," Victor's voice rang out from behind them. He'd entered through another door at the far end of the room and neither of them had noticed him. He stood, smiling at the couple, one finger rubbing the ring on the opposite hand as he leaned against the wall.

"You're a fool," Becca said, jumping to her feet and started to make her way across the room, but Johnny restrained her with a hand on her shoulder and she heard Victor's laughter ring out.

"I thought you weren't going to do anything stupid," Johnny's voice whispered in her ear, light as butterfly wings.

She immediately relaxed and noted the mocking gleam in Victor's eyes. "Why would you call me a fool?" he asked, his head cocked to one side.

"You know damn well why," she said, but stopped when she saw sparks jump on his hand.

"Really now?" he asked, all solicitude. "I don't recall asking you for your input. I do recall our deal that I set forth. It seems to me that you're making good progress. What have you learned?" Sparks jumped again as Johnny started to shield her from Victor, but stopped when Becca moved away from him to the cart which held her recent work.

"You know this relates to the Black Volume. That's about as far as I've gotten. It's slow work."

Victor nodded, "seems to me, you might work faster if you didn't take time out for telling fairy tales."

"I'm just trying to understand why you're chasing after fairy tales."

"Are they?"

"You know they are," she countered. "What could you possibly want with this?"

"Again, I didn't ask for your input." His face was stony and then lightened when he leered at Becca. "But since you asked so nicely," he spread his hands wide and his leer grew. "Have a seat." When Becca sank into a chair and Johnny stood over her, protectively, Victor frowned, "I said have a seat."

"No thanks." When sparks jumped on his hand, Johnny didn't flinch. "I'd rather stand."

"Suit yourself," he continued and moved toward the couch, but did not sit. Instead, he leaned on the couch. "I've been searching for these scrolls my entire life. These documents are artifacts from my own country, a national treasure, if you will."

He ignored Johnny's snort as he muttered, "Figures they'd be relatives of yours."

He continued, "the story Dr. Yale here was telling you was partially true and partially artistic license, as is usually the way when folk tales are related. However, there is enough truth for us to believe that these two books do exist, or did at one point in time. The scrolls were written by an elderly Italian scientist who encrypted them, believing that he was protecting the books. At the time of his death he was murdered and the scrolls were taken."

"So how did Bryant Verrett get the scrolls?" Becca asked.

"He bought them at auction several years ago."

"Then why--?" she stopped short when Victor stood again.

"That's all I'm prepared to share with you right now," he said, smiling. "I expect you to have made more progress by this evening. I'll be back to check on you in a few hours. If it's not to my expectations," he smiled wider and sparks flew on his outstretched hand, "it won't be pretty."

Johnny started to leap at Victor as he turned his back on the two, but was thrown across the room, slammed in the wall, but slid down to the floor.

He lay on the floor gasping as Becca rushed to his side. Victor leered at her as she hovered over him.

"Bastard," Johnny gasped, but Becca shushed him and then turned on Victor herself.

"You son of a bitch," she said, her voice low, still crouched next to Johnny.

"Self defense," Victor countered. "Only a coward attacks a man with his back turned."

Johnny was still reeling from the shock but gasped and started to rise. Becca shoved him back down and he grimaced. "Let him be," she said softly and then turned to Victor. "I'll have more work done for you this evening."

Victor smiled and then bowed out of the room. "You had more sense than I gave you credit for, Dr. Yale. I do apologize. I rarely misjudge people." He turned his grin on Johnny, "feel better." His laughter still rang out as the door slammed behind him, locking loudly.

"Why in the hell didn't you let me kick his ass?" Johnny asked, spitting up blood onto the ornate carpet from knocking his mouth when he'd been thrown up against the wall.

"Because, hothead, all that would've done was get you killed or seriously hurt and I could actually use your help. I can't get us out of here all by myself no matter how smart I am."

Johnny cocked his head to one side, "worried about me?" he asked, a smirk forming on his face. "You really care? How sweet. It would be almost touching if you weren't calling me an idiot every other second."

"I only call you an idiot when you deserve it." She started to smile over her shoulder as she stood and then turned to pull him to his feet, listening to the teakettle hiss he released as he stood, his mechanism for coping with the pain. She saw his eyes flash fire as he finally made it to his feet and she helped him limp across the room to collapse on the couch he'd been trying to set fire to hours ago.

"You okay?"

"Peachy," he gasped in breath. "Damn, that hurt."

"Here," she stood and walked across the room to where the cart which had a bottle of wine as well as several bottles of water sat. She picked up a bottle of water and took it to him.

"Drink this, it'll help."

"I'd rather have that wine," he said, which was met with an arched eyebrow and an outstretched hand, still offering the water. With a sigh he twisted the cap and took a long gulp of the water. "Thanks," he said.

"Any time," she ruffled his short hair and settled on the arm of the couch.

"The bastard's so damn cocky," he said. "And I wasn't the only one who tried to kick his ass. You tried to take a chunk out of him before I did."

"True," she said, "but that's because he has no clue what these books are capable of. He's a fool. An arrogant fool."

Johnny smirked at her, the anger evident on her face. "How do you know so much about them?" he asked.

"I told you the story already," she said. "You'd never heard it before?"

"Never," he stopped, "doesn't even sound familiar. But I'm willing to bet Victor's done his research on these books if he's willing to kill and kidnap someone to translate scrolls leading to their location. Otherwise he'd just be on a wild goose chase."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You know," he said, "I really wondered about that story. It's nothing I've ever heard before."

"Well ace, think about it. You're twenty six years old, it's been a long time since you've even been in the mood to hear fairy tales. I take it you were more interested in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Transformers."

"And you were more interested in The Little Mermaid and weird fairy tales that no one has ever heard of aside from you and Victor Von Doom."

"Bite me," she said sweetly, her face upturned in a simpering smile.

"Not now hon," he said. "I'm not really in the mood."

"Then let's stay on target," she said. She stood and began to pace.

"Maybe you should work some more on translating it," he offered. "We might find out more if you work on it."

"You don't think Reed and Sue..." she began, seating herself back where the scrolls lay, spread out for inspection.

"I don't know," Johnny said. "They may come, they know this has to do with Victor, but I don't know if he hurt them when he took us." His forehead wrinkled and he grimaced as he shifted on the couch. "If he hurt Sue, I'll kill him."

"Didn't you do that once already?" she asked, no sarcasm intended.

"Kill him again, then."

"You know, you should really work on that temper of yours," she said in an offhanded tone, still studying the scroll.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Your temper," she repeated. "You've got to keep it when you're around Victor. Or else you're going to get us both killed."

She didn't see his arched eyebrow, or the smile he desperately tried to hide. That was the Becca he knew and loved.

"I'll do my best," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, which, for a moment, she was too engrossed in the work to shrug off.

Finally, after a few seconds of contact, she knitted her brow, her square reading glasses perched on her nose and she turned her head to studied his hand. "Do you mind?"

"Sorry," he jammed his hand in his pocket and shifted, leaning back on the couch and taking another swig of water. "Just let me know if I can help."

"Don't worry," she grinned at him, her smile blinding, "I've got your part all worked out. It's not getting away from Von Doom that worries me. It's the legend I'm worried about. Anyway," she turned her sparkling green eyes on him, "weren't you the one who said you knew how to get out of this type of situation?"

"Of course," he arched a brow, "probably more than a government stooge."

"Stooge, huh?

"I say that as a compliment." His eyes were laughing.

"Right," her eyes returned to the work, flicking back and forth, her eyelashes fluttering when she grew tired. "Of course, this stooge happens to know a thing or two. So, try not to underestimate me." She paused, "Doom already has."

"How so?"

"He thinks I'm some helpless female who's going to do the work for him and then passively let him kill us."

"Yep, that's about right." He nodded and flicked a hand over his hair.

"What he doesn't know is that there's something he didn't count on."

"What's that?"

"I just found out where the book of Whitesbane is."