simple twist of fate
by red-starshine
part sixteen: the great gig in the sky
The Crossroads looked almost exactly the same as it had the first time Chas had visited it: grey and bleak and desolate, the same dying tree with the weathered tire swing hanging from its branches nearby. John and Manny were nowhere in sight. Chas stopped and listened for any indication of where they might be, but the only sound he could hear was the wind whistling through the tree's branches and the creak of the fraying rope of the swing as it swayed.
Chas sighed and then looked down at the Sword of Night. Feeling incredibly stupid, he said to it, "Okay, so where are they?"
He felt a slight tug against the blade to his left. 'This way.' The words brushed against his mind lightly as he began to walk in the direction the Sword had indicated, and it took him a moment to realize that the sword had spoken to him.
"That's a little creepy," Chas said without thinking, and then winced. Gaz had warned him (twice) he'd be unable to lie as long as he touched the Sword, but apparently that also meant he'd also be unable to keep his thoughts to himself. "Sorry."
The Sword of Night gave a noncommittal hum in his mind, although Chas got the distinct feeling it was slightly exasperated. 'My influence,' it said. 'Pay it no mind.'
Chas kept looking for any sign of John and Manny, but all he could see was gnarled trees and brittle grass. He looked up into the sky, watching the dark streaks against the sky for a moment. The breeze blowing across the Crossroads was beginning to turn bitterly cold.
"God, how big is this place?" said Chas, more to himself than to the Sword.
The Sword answered him anyway. 'Not very. The two you seek should be nearby.'
After another five minutes of walking while the temperature quickly plummeted, Chas began to wonder what the Sword's definition of 'nearby' was, but managed to hold his tongue before the words slipped out. While the Sword of Night was helpful, he didn't like having to constantly stop himself from saying anything and everything that crossed his mind.
A ways ahead of him, he heard something that sounded like a branch snapping. Then he heard John give a yell of pain and realized it hadn't been a branch after all.
"Shit." Chas's stomach clenched, a wave of anger passing though him. He gripped the Sword of Night tightly. At the very least, John was still alive.
He spotted another twisted and sickly tree nearby and slowly approached it, trying to position himself behind the trunk to hide him from sight. He'd never been exactly stealthy, but then again he'd never had a real need to be stealthy before now. The Sword of Night nearly shook in his hand, ready for a fight, as he quickly peered around the trunk.
John was kneeling in the center of a mystic circle burned into the grass, alive but with blood streaming down several long gashes on his face. From the way John was cradling his left arm, it was badly broken. Manny was facing away from the tree Chas was hiding behind, thankfully, although it was also possible he had sensed Chas somehow as soon as he'd entered the Crossroads. He had no idea exactly what an angel was capable of.
'Do not worry,' said the Sword. 'The angel does not know you are here yet. The mage does, however.'
Chas leaned his head back against the bark. Of course John had spotted him.
'Shall we begin?' said the Sword after a moment. It almost sounded eager. 'It will be a fine battle.'
"You're a bloodthirsty little thing," muttered Chas as he gripped the Sword of Night in both hands.
The silver blade began to glow. 'I am a Sword. I was made to shed blood.'