Chapter 2

About a half-hour after Siroc left the cabin, Jacqueline returned to life with a loud gasp. She shot up, practically hyperventilating in her efforts to return precious air to her lungs. As she struggled to breathe normally, her eyes automatically darted about the room, assessing the situation. Bernard and his cohort had somehow disappeared, but everything else was as she remembered. Except…. "Siroc!" Quickly, she swiveled around so her legs were dangling off the bed. Unfortunately, as she prepared to push herself upright, Jacqueline managed to impale her right hand on a nail that was sticking out of the bed frame. Biting back a scream, she carefully pried the injured appendage loose and then held it up to inspect the damage, which amounted to a small bloody hole in the middle of her palm. Cursing, she grabbed a handful of sheets in her good hand, intent on tearing off some scraps for bandages. However, before she could start, Jacqueline received probably the biggest shock of her life. Tiny blue sparks darted across the wound and, in mere seconds, it was fully healed. Not even the slightest trace of a scar. She flexed the hand experimentally, and it was as if time had been turned back. "What the…" She let go of the sheets and, remembering the sword wound, lifted her shirt and pulled off the bandages to find…nothing. There were still traces of blood, as with her hand. Otherwise, it was like that guard had never even touched her. "My God….Siroc, what have you done to me?" Using the now-unnecessary bandages, she wiped the blood from both spots before pulling on the rest of her clothes and heading outside to find the blonde inventor, her mind whirling with questions. In her haste, however, she neglected to retrieve her weapon. Jacqueline could hear someone hammering inside the barn, and instinct told her to check there first. As she approached, she was overcome by an indescribable sensation inside her head. Like a really bad headache, only…not. Undaunted, she gritted her teeth against the pain and continued on her way the barn doors, which she threw open to reveal none other than Siroc, who was putting the finishing touches on what appeared to be a coffin. Gerard's coffin, no doubt. After a moment, he glanced up from his work and smiled.

"Hello, Jacqueline. Good to see you up and about." Their eyes met, and the strange sensation faded away to a nearly imperceptible throb at the back of her skull. "Come…sit down. I'm sure you have quite a few questions." He gestured towards a large overturned bucket, which she immediately dropped onto.

"Siroc, I…I want to know exactly what you did to me. What the hell am I?"

Siroc sighed. "It's a long story, Jacqueline, but rest assured that there's a perfectly natural explanation for what you're going through.

"Natural?" Faster than the inventor could have anticipated, Jacqueline leapt off the bucket, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him against the nearest wall. Glaring, she leaned her forearm against his throat, exerting just enough pressure to hold him in place while still allowing him to speak. "Not only has my supposedly mortal wound disappeared completely, but when I woke up, I accidentally put a nail through my palm and, upon removing said nail, I watched what looked like miniature lightning bolts seal the wound in mere seconds. Last time I checked, that sort of power was as far from 'natural' as you could get. I want an explanation, Siroc, and I want it now or so help me-"

"Jacqueline?" Easing up on Siroc, she turned her head to see Ramon and D'Artagnan standing in the doorway. Immediately, she let go of the blonde and threw herself into the Gascon's waiting arms, allowing his comforting presence to soothe her rage. Softly stroking her chestnut tresses, D'Artagnan glanced over at Siroc, who was leaning heavily against the wall, rubbing the base of his throat. "What the hell's going on here, Siroc? What did you do to her?"

"N-nothing…I swear it." He and D'Artagnan stared at each other for a moment, before Ramon chimed in.

"Doesn't look like 'nothing,' amigo. What happened?"

"I swear, I haven't harmed her in any way. In fact, Jacqueline is in perfect health. See for yourselves." Jacqueline lifted her head from D'Artagnan's shoulder and stepped back, lifting the bottom of her shirt to show the other two the spot which, just hours before, had been a gaping hole in her flesh. Staring at the now unmarked skin, D'Artagnan gasped while Ramon quickly crossed himself, muttering in an odd mixture of Latin and Spanish.

The Gascon shook stared at the woman as he stammered. "J-Jacqueline. H-how is this possible?"

"That's what I'd like to know…Siroc." All three of them turned to face the inventor, staring at him expectantly.

"I do have an explanation for this, I promise. But don't you think we should get Gerard taken care of first? We'll have plenty of time to talk once he's been properly laid to rest."

Slowly, Jacqueline nodded. "Of course." She felt tears beginning to form, and quickly pushed them back. There'd be plenty of time for that later. Noticing this, Siroc laid a hand on her shoulder in an attempt at comfort. They stared at each other for a moment, and then he turned to the Spaniard.

"Ramon, come help me get this coffin over to the house."

With a slight nod, he wordlessly followed Siroc over to the worktable. Together, they removed the object in question, revealing a second one behind the first.

"Siroc," Jacqueline asked, "why are there two?"

The inventor briefly flashed her an enigmatic smile. "You'll see." With that, he and Ramon carried the crude casket out of the barn. D'Artagnan picked up a lantern and led the way, Jacqueline close by his side. Once inside the house, Jacqueline, with D'Artagnan's help, carefully wrapped Gerard's body in some old bed sheets and placed it inside the coffin. Siroc sprinkled something on the body, then put the lid on and nailed it shut. Once he was finished, they all picked it up and carried it out to the Roget family plot. D'Artagnan and Siroc carefully lowered the casket into the hole while Ramon improvised a rhapsody in Gerard's honor. Jacqueline, however, merely stood to one side, unconsciously fingering the tiny crucifix that her brother had foolishly come all the way back to France to return… 'No,' she chastised herself. 'Gerard was no fool. If he left the safety of the New World to bring this back, he must have had a good reason to. I just wish I knew what that reason was...what my brother gave his life for…' She felt a hand on her shoulder, and glanced over to see a now-silent Ramon by her side.

"Are you alright, mi Amiga?"

She shook her head. "First Mama, then Papa, and now Gerard…my whole family is gone, Ramon. They're all gone, and I'm alone."

"Hey now…you still have us. Me, Siroc, D'Artagnan…and I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say that we have no intention of going anywhere."

Smiling sadly, she placed her hand on top of the Spaniard's. "I know, and you have no idea just how grateful I am for that. But it's just not the same."

"I know. I miss mi familia as well."

"Yeah, but at least yours are still alive. Mine are all dead. And the worst of it is, it wasn't even Gerard's time…or Papa's, for that matter. Both of them had their lives stolen away by the cardinal's men. They didn't have to die…they didn't deserve to…." She felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes once more and, again, she pushed them back, unwilling to let even Ramon see her so vulnerable. He embraced her anyway, allowing her to lean on him for comfort as she had D'Artagnan earlier.

"Don't worry, Jacqueline." He still found it a little strange referring to his comrade of the past year as a woman. "Mazarin and Bernard will get what's coming to them. We'll make sure of it." Jacqueline pulled back, looking at Ramon with eyebrow raised.

"What are you talking about? Bernard's dead."

Ramon shook his head. "No he's not. Siroc told us that you wounded him and he managed to escape."

"Siroc told you that?"

Ramon nodded.

Jacqueline spit on the ground. "Well, Siroc's lying. I killed that son of a bitch myself…stuck my blade right through his black heart…watched the light fade from his eyes. I know a dead man when I see one, Ramon, and trust me, Bernard is dead. The body may have disappeared somehow, but my brother has been avenged."

"I don't know about that, Amiga…I mean, I believe you, of course, but why would Siroc lie…especially about something like this?"

"Good question…" They turned towards the inventor just as he and D'Artagnan were tossing the last shovelfuls of dirt onto Gerard's grave. Sensing doom, Siroc rammed the point of his shovel into the ground before making his way over to the pair, with the Gascon close at his heels.

"You two alright?" Ramon opened his mouth to answer, but Jacqueline beat him to it.

The angry young woman looked at Siroc. "Ramon tells me that, according to you, Bernard is still alive. But I know for a fact that he is not, seeing as I'm the one who put an end to his vile existence. So what's going on here, Siroc?"

Siroc sighed. "It's both, actually."

"What?" his comrades exclaimed in unison.

"Let me explain. Jacqueline, you did kill Bernard, there's no doubt about that. Problem is, he didn't stay that way. See, Bernard is part of a special race of human beings that are called, quite simply, immortals. Immortals begin life just as any other mortal, with all the same strengths and failings, most of them completely unaware of their potential. And don't go getting your hopes up you two," he said, glancing over at Ramon and D'Artagnan. "Only a very small percentage of the population is born with such potential. Anyway…if one such being should ever meet with a violent or otherwise unnatural death, his or her potential will be awakened, and that person will become, for all purposes, immortal. They'll never age, or get sick, and all injuries will heal at a greatly accelerated rate." Jacqueline stared down at her palm, remembering the incident with the nail, her mind reeling at the possibilities as she listened to Siroc. "While an immortal can be 'killed,' as Bernard was, the condition will only be temporary-at least, as long as their head is still attached. Any questions?"

Ramon closed in on the blonde, his Spanish temper beginning to flare. "Yeah, I'd like to know how it is you know so much about this-providing, of course, that it's even anywhere near the truth-and why you never told us about it sooner."

"I agree." D'Artagnan nodded. "If Bernard really is one of these 'immortals,' don't you think it would've been even the least bit useful to us to know how to get rid of him?"

Jacqueline remained silent, though she fixed a questioning gaze at the inventor. Siroc sighed again. He should've known it wouldn't be this easy. "Ramon, give me your dagger."

"What for?"

"Just give it here."

"Fine." Resignedly, the Spaniard handed over his main gauche. Siroc examined the blade for a moment and then, before anyone could stop him, plunged it into his own stomach. 'Gods, I really hate this part…' He could just barely hear Jacqueline's terror-filled scream, mixed in with panicked yelling from the other two, as the world around him slowly faded to black…