Pt. 11

Alwyn stood before Galen's skimmer and intoned the proper incantations quietly, holding his staff in front of him. Gideon and Dr. Chambers stood in the background, watching fascinated as the older Technomage inscribed the words of the equation in letters of fire that hung in the air between the man and the ship. Yet no matter what he did, the ship continued to refuse him entry. Finally, the old man dropped his arms and backed away in surprise.

"I take it your key doesn't work anymore?" Gideon's voice was sharp and sarcastic, masking his growing concern for his friend.

"No, it doesn't. And it should work. There is no reason for it not to work. Yet something is preventing me from going through that door." Alwyn eyed the skimmer pensively, pacing in front of it for a moment.

"Could Galen be keeping you out?" Sarah asked, quietly.

"No, I would recognize the feel of his technomancy. This is something different, something I've never felt before. There is an almost organic sense to it, as though a living power were surrounding this ship, keeping back anything or anyone it did not want too close." Alwyn stopped his pacing and faced the Excalibur crewmembers, concern on his face. "I'm afraid this is much worse than I had first feared."

"Suggestions anyone?" Gideon asked curtly.

"I may have one." Max Eilerson strolled out of the shadows, a data crystal in his hand. "Captain, Dr. Chambers, care to introduce me to your guest?"

"Not really." Gideon moved to stand face to face with the man, forcing Max to look at him. "What's your suggestion?"

Max backed up a step and held out the data crystal to Sarah. "Well, after our conversation I did a little more research on Draco Enterprises in general and Damien Draco in particular. Seems the man had something on everyone. He had a gift for knowing exactly what people were going to do even before they did it."

"He was a telepath?" Sarah asked, curious in spite of herself.

"This was before there was any test for that sort of thing, but from some of the events that were linked to him I'd say he was a high level teep, maybe even Psi cop material. He was certainly ruthless enough for it. He and his family built this huge, global financial empire then suddenly one day they just abandoned it without a word."

"So they walked away from their money. That's kind of odd but…" Gideon looked back at Sarah and Alwyn in exasperation.

"No Captain, you still don't understand. They didn't just walk away from the money; they walked away from the world. Every member of the Draco family, including their servants, disappeared on the same day over two hundred years ago. Not a trace was ever found of any of them. The only things they left behind were those four portraits." Max waved a hand at the crystal he had given Sarah. "It's all there. My company acquired the holding company's assets almost a hundred years to the day that the family disappeared. And, if I'm not mistaken, this week in Earth time is the two hundredth anniversary of the family's dropping of the face of the planet."

"What was the name you gave?" Alwyn asked, his voice suddenly somber.

"Draco." Max answered smugly. "Sound familiar?"

"Yes, unfortunately, it does." Alwyn turned back to the ship and laid a hand on its hull, his face a mask of weary emotions. "Galen, what have you gotten into this time?"

Marianne opened her eyes slowly, aware of every smell and sound around her. She sat up and found herself staring into a pair of cold blue eyes. The Swordsman sat at the end of her bed, wiping a dagger with her shift. His sword belt hung from the bedpost with his cloak. "Well, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," she commented.

"I will take you to the Jinn," he replied, tossing the shift to the floor and tucking the dagger back in his boot. He rose and strapped on the sword and cloak. "Get dressed."

She pulled her feet up under her and sat on her knees at the head of the bed. Her eyes traveled from his impassive face, to his hands hidden inside their black leather gloves, down finally to the remains of her dress on the floor. Marianne looked back up into his expressionless eyes with a frown. "Didn't anyone tell you that listening to other people's conversations isn't polite? I'm assuming that's what's got you so closed off, isn't it? My conversation with my brother, which you probably used magic to overhear." She sighed in exasperation then stood up on the mattress and walked to the end of the bed. Leaping lightly into the air, she landed beside the window and began to dig through her pack for her clothes. "I'll be dressed in a moment. You can either wait for me in the hall or watch me dress. It matters little to me." She yanked her shirt off over her head and tossed it in his direction. Reaching across the table, she pulled the water pitcher towards her and upended it into the bowl. Marianne splashed the cool water on her face, aware of his eyes watching her impassively. She pulled on a black cotton shirt and pants and pulled her hair up into a ponytail, sweeping stray wisps of hair impatiently away from her face.

The Swordsman watched her movements without expression, standing with his arms crossed in the center of the room. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Ready to go sight-seeing around this charming little hamlet – yes. Ready to poke around in the market place and see just how the other half lives - probably. Ready to see that slimy little worm of a master of yours – screw him. He can wait." She pulled her boots on, steadying herself with a hand on the wall, and then moved towards the door. Glancing back she wondered briefly what might be going on behind those shuttered eyes, and then dismissed the thought. "Coming?" she asked.

The Swordsman followed her out of the Inn and into the market place, watching as she wandered from stall to stall examining anything that caught her fancy. A bright bolt of cloth here, a string of beads there, anything and everything that wasn't related to the Dark Jinn seemed to interest her. Finally she came to a halt in front of the hall belonging to the Healers Guild. She stared up at the emblem on the wall, cracked and faded with age with interest.

"Healers? Well, I've always had an interest in that particular science. Let's see what they have to say for themselves." She glanced back at her silent shadow with an amused smile. "Coming?"

"My master awaits your presence. He will not wait patiently for long. It will be better for you in the long run to face him now."

She leaned insolently against the door, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "If that toad wants to talk to me, tell him to come ask for me himself. I grow bored with your silence and would hear some interesting news before I die. Either run along home to your master, boy, or wipe that scowl off your face and introduce me to someone who can entertain me with the history of this place." She waited for his response, considering carefully how much further she could push him before his careful façade of control would crack.

"I can do that for you, Lady." Magda's voice echoed from within the hall, followed by the elderly healer herself. "Please, enter and be welcomed." She looked up at the Swordsman who stood stiffly in the road, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "You are welcomed as well."

"I will wait out here." he growled, turning away from the two women and pulling his hood over his head to hide his expression from passersby.

Marianne shrugged, unconcerned. "If he wants to pout, let him. I've a mind to hear your story, healer, and no bad-tempered stick-swinger is going to stop me." She stared at his stiff form as she spoke, gauging how much of a reaction her words would have on the already annoyed man in front of her.

"The tale is a mercifully short one." Magda replied hurriedly. "Please come in and I will have the apprentices fetch tea so that we may speak in comfort." She held the door opened as the younger woman entered with the old healer casting anxious glances back at the still figure they were leaving behind.