Chapter Eight: Ships Seeking in the Night
If he hadn't already been bald, he would've ripped all his hair out. They'd been right behind them! Not even five minutes – and the place had been vacant. Just an eerie sense of something and a bunch of second-hand clothing on racks in a store that had been way too dim for shoppers.
Lou had been running a trace on the Sarge's phone even before Ed could bark the order, but as soon as the screen started getting jittery and bouncing from place to place, they'd known. Wards. Again. The goblins really needed to fix that problem. Soon.
Roy, Giles, and KITT had been close enough to swoop in, but neither their resident supercar nor their resident wizard had had any better luck. About the only additional clue they had was confirmation that an Old Religion transport spell had been used on the building's second floor.
Giles called in the patrol Aurors and Team One left them to rip the clothing store apart from top to bottom while they returned to the barn, hoping beyond hope that there would be options. Some how, some way, to trace Greg and Marina's location – after all, this was hardly the first time Latin magic had been forced to contend with the Old Religion. Surely someone had been researching how to defeat the Old Religion's inherent advantages.
Apparently not. Locksley turned up long enough to wring her hands, then vanished back to the magic-side of the barn after voicing her total confidence that Greg and Team One would prevail in this latest challenge. Ed hadn't been the only one on the cusp of spitting nails after that charming declaration – even Giles had been visibly annoyed by the commander's response.
With no help from their usual sources, Ed dug out his cell phone and flipped to a particular number in his contact list. Praying, he tapped the call button and brought the phone up, jaw clenching as the other side rang. And rang. And rang. When it finally went to voicemail, he said, "This is Ed Lane. Call me when you get this; it's an emergency."
Kira looked up from her keyboard when he lowered the phone with a muttered curse. "Sir, we're going to find them."
"How?" Jules inquired from the other side of the dispatcher desk. She held up her hand, ticking points off on her fingers. "We're dealing with the Old Religion, so magical tracking is out. We've got wards, so tracking Sarge's phone is out. Marina's phone is off and magic would fry it anyway if she tries to turn it on." A grimace. "And Ed just tried to call Merlin, but I guess he's outta town. Again."
"For all we know, they're already dead." Levering the words out of his gut hurt, but… They were dealing with Morgana. Plus their twisted, vengeful unknown – a name, a description, and a list of crimes did not a profile make.
"No." Wordy's voice dragged him out of his misery, pulling his eyes up off the countertop. "They're alive until proven otherwise, Boss. I am not writing Sarge off just 'cause he got kidnapped. Again. He's a lot tougher than he looks."
When he had full access to his magic, sure, but with the 'team sense' down… The Sergeant's fingers curled and he forced the 'what-if's away. No. Greg was alive, he was staying that way, and they just had to keep looking until they found the first clue they needed. Giving up was not an option. Never again. Which meant they needed another angle. One Morgana wouldn't – couldn't – anticipate.
His fingers drummed on the countertop, a sudden memory surfacing. Greg, calling him not long after he'd broken up with Marina and asking him to wrangle Team One in to cover for Team Four's shift. Of course he'd asked why. Greg had been…evasive…not wanting to betray any privileged information, but eventually Ed had wriggled some of the facts out of the other man. Including the fact that Greg had found another relative, this one, quite ironically, in the ranks of the SRU itself. He'd promised to keep quiet about it, but if there was any chance…
Lane straightened, already turning towards the locker room.
"Ed?"
"Boss?"
"Sergeant?"
He shifted back, regarding his teammates and Kira seriously. "I might have another angle, but I promised Greg."
Understanding filtered in, earning him several nods. "Go to it, Boss," Sam called, tossing him a thumbs up.
"I'll keep working on the trace," Lou added from right next to the sniper. "If Sarge and Marina get away from the wards, it'll work."
"Keep me posted," Ed ordered. Turning away again, he stalked down the ramp and angled for the locker room. Pushing his way in, he found Team Four, right at the start of gearing up for their shift.
"Sergeant Lane?" their team leader Leon inquired.
Ed's blue landed on one man in particular. "Parker's missing," he announced, watching hazel recoil as the dark-haired man paled. "Onasi found traces of an Old Religion transport spell, but Greg and another hostage are behind wards. Lou can't get a lock on 'em and the Auror Division still hasn't figured out how to track anything other than Latin."
"And you are hoping that I might have some options?" Constable Lancelot Cabrera inquired.
"Worth a shot," Ed confirmed. "The kids won't be able to help; wards block the family magic. I know Lance was trying to figure out a way to track even with wards in play, but there's a lot he's just doesn't know."
Lancelot sighed, running a hand through his hair – Ed swallowed down pain at how alike the young constable was to Greg in that moment. "Sergeant Lane, I know even less than Parker's kids do. I'm still working on mastering basic spells."
Oh. Discouragement slumped his shoulders.
"Who are we dealing with, do we know?"
Startled, Ed's gaze flew to Team Four's bomb tech. The man eyed him with a shrewd, knowing gleam in his dark gray eyes.
"We know Morgana's in play, but she may not be our primary."
"Who else?" the tall, brawny Percival inquired, frowning.
"First name is Emilia," Ed reeled off. "Possibly related to Morgana, but we don't know for sure."
To his surprise, every man in the locker room went rigid. "Description?" Leon barked.
"Tall, slim, brown eyes, blonde." Only his sniper training kept him from stuttering as Leon stiffened more and more with each word, a deadly gleam shining in the constable's darker shade of blue. "She was involved with the attack that landed Greg and his nephew in the hospital for a week."
"I remember that," Lancelot put in, scowl fierce. "Leon, she dosed the boy with a Suppression Potion strong enough to kill him and stabbed him in the leg." The scowl deepened. "Parker told me that she invoked the Triple Goddess during the attack."
"A High Priestess?" another member of Team Four asked, dark eyes gleaming from within a face several shades darker than Lou – Elyan, Ed thought his name was.
"Yes," Lancelot confirmed, tone slow with calculation. "If she is related to Morgana…"
"Morgause," Leon declared, crossing his arms. "She was Morgana's half-sister."
Was, not is… Ed felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle and realization dawned as he stared at Sir Leon. Flicked his gaze to Sir Percival. Lancelot he'd already known about, but… His mouth opened without his consent. "I thought you went back."
Most of the men startled, but Leon grinned and Percival chuckled. "We did," Leon confirmed, amusement glowing. Sobering at the question in Ed's eyes, he said, "We went back, but…"
"The hydra got us," Percival explained, ignoring his teammates' horrified reactions. "Just like in the original timeline."
"Then…what was the point?" Ed demanded. He'd nearly been written out of history for no reason?
Leon's smile was sad. Knowing. "We – I – had to learn that magic wasn't what Uther claimed it was. I grew up in the shadow of the Purge; by the time I was an adult, I believed with every fiber of my being that magic was a choice. That choosing magic made a person evil." He shook his head. "Even when Geoffrey told me the truth, I would not believe it. I could not see him as evil, but I couldn't accept the idea that magic… wasn't…"
"And then you ended up in Toronto," Ed breathed.
Both former knights nodded. "Sergeant Parker," Leon began, expression faraway. "He has Geoffrey's eyes. Lancelot's eyes." Blue sharpened, focusing back on Ed. "That is how I figured it out."
"Figured what out?"
The smile brightened. "That he has magic, of course."
Marina trailed after Elias, very aware of her hand in his grasp. Her right palm tingled and her soul thrilled in the contact between them. He was using his left hand, leaving his right free if they ran into any trouble, but even that shade of protectiveness was enough to send hope shooting through her veins.
His scarlet eyes darted about, constantly scanning their surroundings for anything out of the ordinary as he led them onwards, always trending upwards. She would've thought down would be a better direction – the only thing up was the roof – but if he really was Greg's ruthless, tactical side, then he knew what he was doing. She could trust him to see them safely to freedom.
Then, in between one step and the next, Elias halted, right hand rising to his chest. Before she could say anything, she heard a soft whimpering whine. Scarlet flew to her as he began to pant, jaw twisting in pain. He pulled his hand free from hers, wrapping both arms around his middle as he folded over, letting out those pathetic little whines. When he sank down onto his 'backwards' knees, she followed him, uncertain of what was wrong now or how she could help. He keened, the sound tearing at her hearing and so sorrowfully pathetic that her own chest ached in sympathy. One huge heaving pant later, it was over and he leaned his head against hers, whimpering in the aftermath.
Gently, Marina carded a hand through his hair, rubbing right behind his lion ears. "Greg?"
He whined, but didn't protest.
"Sweetie, are you alright?"
His arms tightened around his chest. "Pride. Not there. Should be there."
"Honey, I don't understand."
Elias shook his head. "Can't tell. My human. He not tell."
Oh. "Something Greg wants you to keep secret?" Marina ventured, earning a nod. She frowned. "But it's hurting you!"
A soft keen reached her ears. "Hurt him, too." Lion ears flattened. "Must heal." Cautiously, he unfolded. "Is healing."
"What, like a broken bone?"
He considered, ears twitching. "Is like," he agreed. "Hurts, but…heals…?"
She blinked. "Greg's never had a broken bone?"
His ears flattened again. "Ribs. Arm." The ears went flatter, right along with his tone. "Collarbone, once."
Marina winced and changed the subject. "Are you alright now?"
His wings flexed a moment as he thought. Then he nodded and clambered back to his paws. "Follow." He paced forward, glancing back as she scrambled up and after him. "Close now."
She swallowed down her questions and followed Elias up the last set of stairs to the roof. An idea swirled in the back of her mind and she forced it down. No. He wouldn't…would he? No, surely not; she knew her Greg wasn't comfortable with heights.
But as he stepped outside, she saw him freeze an instant before his wings partially spread and he inhaled, catching every scrap of the breeze running over the top of the building. He turned his head and she saw the excitement in his scarlet eyes as he reached back and grasped her hand, pulling her along. She followed, letting him lead her through the small rooftop maze to the edge of the roof. There was a railing and she saw the city beyond that.
She sucked in a breath of her own, eyes wide as she gazed up at the skyscrapers of her home, shining and glittering in the light of the setting sun. Glowing like a beacon, beckoning them towards safety, if only they dared.
Marina turned, lifting a hand. "Greg, no," she insisted.
He rumbled, tail lashing amusement.
"No," she repeated. "We can go back down, find a way onto the street. Don't you dare. Don't you daRE…!"
She screamed; his body hit hers in a tackle, taking them over the edge. Pointing them straight down. She screamed again as his wings curled around, twirling them around twice as they spiraled towards the street below. Then they spread out and he caught the wind, rising just as fast as he'd fallen. Soaring upwards, flying as his arms cradled her body, holding her tight against his chest.
Air rushed around her, chilling her from the inside out, but she could only stare, eyes wide as she understood. Her Greg could fly.
"We got 'em!" Lou roared, bringing Ed and Team Four at a run from the locker room where they'd been brainstorming options.
"Location!" Ed snapped, sliding to a halt with an effort.
"Feed you on the fly; they're on the move," Lou retorted. "Go!"
Team One sprinted for their trucks and Ed hit the streets only a breath after KITT, the black Trans Am already hooked into their comms and flashing his headlights like police lights as an eighties siren wailed in his wake. Lou's voice was in their ears, guiding them on the most direct route through evening rush hour towards their target.
Ahead of them, KITT looked set to dispense with subtlety, but they had to do this right. So Ed keyed his comm in between Lou's orders. "No stunts," he rapped out. "We don't need trouble."
They had to pause as Lou called another change in direction, but once the convoy made the turn, KITT's Bostonian accent came over the radio, tone rather subdued. "Acknowledged, Sergeant Lane."
Fixing his attention on the road, Ed prayed that decision wouldn't cost his best friend his life.
Within a few minutes of beginning their flight, Marina began to shiver. Not even Greg's closeness and warmth could counteract the chill of the winds aloft or her torn blouse. The speed and noise of the wind prevented her from telling him that, but he must've felt her shivers because only a minute or so after they started, he angled downwards, finally headed towards the safety of the ground.
It took another couple minutes before he landed on one of Toronto's darkening streets. As soon as he let her down, Marina ushered him towards a nearby alleyway, praying she could get him there before any passersby saw his wings. He let out a rumble that sounded unhappy, but let her push him along, as if understanding that they were now in her realm of expertise.
Partway there, Marina spotted a café. Unfortunately indoors, but if she could purchase something hot for both of them… Reminded that they were free, she reached in her pocket and pulled out Greg's phone, fully intending to call the SRU, but stopped at the sight of the screen flashing. A bronze maple leaf like the one on Greg's uniform, with his initials.
Elias peered over her shoulder at the screen. "Pride. Will find."
"They're coming for us?"
He nodded, reaching out to tap one finger against the phone. "Find."
Her breath caught. "They're tracking us?"
He nodded again.
Well, then. Their rescue was already assured, but it was evening. Rush hour. It would take time for Team One to reach them and in the meantime, Marina was willing to bet Greg needed food after all his exertions on her behalf. Not to mention her growling stomach. If it went on much longer, she was going to be competing with Elias's growls.
So Marina finished ushering Elias over to the alleyway entrance, picking the side that was already in deep shadow. "Stay here and I'll go get us some food."
He whined protest, reaching out to grab her arm. "Protect."
She reached up, cradling his jaw for an instant. "I know, honey, and you've done more than I ever could've imagined, but we have to wait for your team to find us."
Another whine and his grip shifted to her hand. "Stay. Protect."
"I won't leave you, I promise, but we need something to eat," Marina explained. "The people inside the store, they won't understand about your wings, Elias. Humans aren't supposed to have wings."
The whine shifted to a whimper. "Marina come back?"
"Yes, I'll come back as soon as I've gotten the food," she promised.
His stomach rumbled audibly and he let out a chirrup, ears standing straight up as he stared down at his stomach in pure betrayal. Marina struggled to keep from laughing at his expression. Instead, she stroked his arm in reassurance and gently pulled loose. Turning away, she lifted her head, set her jaw, and strode towards the café, already calculating how much she could carry and wondering if she could wrangle both a bag and a drink carrier with her order.
Ed bit down on several curse words as Lou guided them onto another road. He knew the general area of their destination and it wasn't known for being a friendly part of the city.
"Could be worse," Wordy put in, ignoring the hawk glare from his Sergeant.
"We're not too far from Shiloh," Sam put in over the comm. "Maybe Sarge and Marina will head for there."
"I don't think so, Sam," Jules disagreed. "It's not too far by car, but they're on foot. We found Marina's car at the clothing store, remember?"
"Lou, any movement?" Roy asked. "Comin' up on another light if we need to turn."
"I see," Lou reassured them. "Some movement, but still the same general area, guys. Keep going straight."
"How far?" Ed barked.
"Two, three kilometers, but…"
Lou trailed off and Kira picked up. "We got an accident ahead of you, Team One," she reported. "Only one lane blocked, but it's slowing traffic in both directions."
"Can we turn?" Sam.
"No, it's a bunch of one way streets," Lou replied, glum. "You turn and it's another hour, easy, even with lights and siren."
As KITT braked for the traffic ahead, Ed turned down his comm long enough to hiss several choice phrases in a variety of ancient languages. Listening from the seat next to him, Wordy didn't even glare.
Coffee, Marina decided, had been an exceedingly poor choice. Her Greg enjoyed coffee, but Elias had no concept of something being hot enough to burn. She had to quickly snatch back the coffee and replace it with the wrapped sandwich before he could spill it on himself – and then he'd bitten right into the waxed paper. The wide-eyed look of helpless incomprehension severely tested her self-control and Marina coached him in how to hold a drink carrier before displaying the traditional human process for unwrapping a sandwich before trying to eat it.
Instead of giving him back the sandwich, she eased her cup of coffee out of the drink carrier and demonstrated the safe way to drink the hot beverage without ending up with a scalded tongue or burns on one's hands, arms, or legs. He watched her closely, imitating her with Greg's coffee, though his expression twisted as he tasted coffee for the first time.
From there, things went smoother, though they had to trade off eating due to the drink carrier and the lack of a table nearby for it. Even so, the pair had finished their sandwiches and were sipping the last of their coffee by the time a small convoy of vehicles arrived, still running lights and sirens.
Elias straightened, ears perking up and wings flexing in his excitement. "Pride. They find."
Marina stepped right in his path, blocking him; his wings wilted down a hair and he whined in confusion. "Yes, sweetheart, they found us, but they don't know what happened," she reminded him. "They don't know what that woman did to you and Greg."
"Pride not understand?" he ventured, a tiny keen behind the words. "Pride…angry…?"
"Not with you," she reassured him. "But let me go talk to them first."
He whimpered, torn between believing her and longing for his Pride.
"Greg." He swung down to stare at her. "I'll bring Ed back, okay? They won't be angry at you, I promise, but if you just go over to them now, you'll scare them." She grasped his left hand, leaving his right free. "Please, Greg, we're almost there. Just…let me help you. Like you've helped me."
He reached up, touching the side of her face. "Trust. Bring Eddie."
Marina smiled. "I will."
Ed swung out of the truck, already scanning the area for his best friend. Deep inside his chest, his heart was beating at twice its normal tempo, every bump and throb begging for his friend. His brother by heart, by spirit, by blood and magic. Even without the 'team sense', he could feel the same desperation from his teammates. They needed Greg. Needed him back and safe and one of them.
Then hawk blue fell on a figure hurrying towards them. Squinted, making out a lighter shade of hair, a womanly figure. Professional clothing paired with semi-sensible shoes. His heart sank, but he moved to meet her. "Marina."
Team One whipped around and they had her surrounded in an instant. "Where's Sarge?" Wordy demanded, a breath before anyone else.
She swallowed hard, lifting her eyes to his. "He's here, but… Ed, just you, please."
His constables protested, but he raised a hand, signaling for quiet. "How bad?"
Marina bit her lip. "He…he's not physically injured."
Dammit. "But?"
She shook her head. "It's… It's easier to show you."
Mentally, he added a tick under 'very bad' and forced a jerky nod. "Okay, Marina. Show me."
The blonde guided him straight towards a nearby alleyway and he couldn't help the frown. Why would Greg lurk in an alley? Especially in this poorer, somewhat rundown part of town. Even alleys in the best parts of the city tended to be havens for Toronto's unfortunates. The homeless, the downtrodden. The drug addicted.
Then he spied a pair of red eyes, lurking right in the shadows and fixed on him. Fear shot up his spine, but he kept walking closer. Right at the edge of the newly lit streetlamps, the figure perked up and shot forward, leaving the sheltering darkness and Ed froze.
Wings. Glowing scarlet eyes. Feathery lion ears and lion-like legs. The flash of a tail topped with eagle feathers. The gryphon, but not. Because it stood upright, as tall as Greg ever had. It wore his armor and Ed's eyes snagged on Greg's gun in its holster, strapped to the gryphon's right leg. Human hands, human arms, human torso, and even a mostly human head. As if Greg had started to transform, only to end up caught halfway between.
"Eddie!"
His heart spasmed in agony. Greg's voice, but there was a childlike quality to it. Innocent joy untainted by human worries or concerns. Greg…but not. He opened his arms anyway and the gryphon barreled into him, seizing him in a bear hug. Massive wings folded around both of them and he shivered, caught between the warmth of Greg's protective nature and the chill of knowing this was the gryphon, right down to the rumbling purrs he could hear and feel.
Oh, dear Gawd, I want my friend back…
Author note: I am pleased to report that the Lord is very good and the damage to my car was so minimal that I was able to drop it off at the repair shop on Tuesday of last week and pick it up last Friday! Aside from the surface damage to my bumper, there was no damage at all!
Praise the Lord!
Small Beginnings is also proceeding and I am currently working on refining character appearances in the book. Apparently, in this modern-day age, readers are so impatient that the author must constantly reinforce a character's appearance, especially with a large cast. I find that a bit incredulous, but so it is.
Another area of concern for my story coach is the fact that I have included so many Points of View. The majority of my scenes are in the POV of my main character, but as with this series, I definitely bounce around depending on who I think is the right guy for the scene. According to my story coach, this is a big no-no and publishers are likely to demand that I reduce the Points of View to 4 characters (preferably less).
Honestly, I think my story coach and the publishers are selling the reading public short and treating them like they are too dumb to read more 'advanced' novels. There are many successful novels which have far more Points of View than I do - Lord of the Rings, for example. I also think that it's unjust to say those are old stories which wouldn't sell if they were published today. Great writing does not diminish just because times are constantly changing.
I'd definitely love to hear what my readers think - and I am also asking for prayer that the Lord would guide me to His solution for this issue. I don't want to cut out scenes from my characters who have important stories to tell, but at the same time, I want Small Beginnings to succeed. Not for my glory, but for the Lord's.