Chapter Thirteen: Can't Let You Do This
Ed felt his fists clench as Team Four and their Court Physician left, chattering away like a bunch of college co-eds! As if it was all about them, catching up with each other and renewing their friendships, rather than helping a man trapped inside his own mind, bound to his Animagus instincts and stuck in a half-human, half-gryphon form.
It had only been a few hours, but his soul was howling. The partially healed link thrashed inside his core, adrift without its true anchor. Without his best friend, his brother by blood and magic – Elias couldn't take Greg's place, the lesser half of a much greater whole. Sure, Elias had tactics and combat sewn up, mixed in with a dash of empathy and sure, he'd saved Team Four's bomb tech from a nasty introduction to the nearest wall, but he wasn't Greg. He didn't have an ounce of Greg's intellect, couldn't profile a subject or explain to Lou why one approach would work – and not another – in the latest practice negotiation.
And maybe he didn't know all the magical mumbo-jumbo, but from what he could tell, the old guy hadn't been able to come up with anything different from Mordred. Which meant the only way to free Greg was to let the spell run. Let it play itself out and fix Morgause's mess afterwards.
Ideal – heck no. But they'd have Greg back. And once they had the Boss back, Ed knew they'd be able to find a solution to whatever Morgause's scheme was. After all, they'd beaten Morgana, hadn't they? More than once, even – how much worse could her sister be?
He turned his head at the footsteps, one ear flexing back at the determination on Yellow's face. No, they didn't like that; they didn't like him using their colors. He didn't understand; didn't they know their colors reflected their very souls? Every trait, every belief, every experience, every thought, it was all written in their colors. Human names were pale imitations of the colors, hardly any more unique than the square stones of the building they were inside.
But his Pride preferred plain, ordinary sounds to the vibrancy of their colors. Maybe, a thought whispered, they couldn't see them? Couldn't understand what they were missing? The other ear flicked back, a whine burgeoning at the idea. To be robbed of the colors – it would be like being crippled again, only worse. Even when he couldn't fly, he'd always had the colors.
He shifted, meeting Yellow's approach with an inquiring head tilt. Was it time to go to his human's den? He hoped so – the takeout had been interesting, unusual and so very different from meat – but now that his belly was satisfied and the sun was gone, bedding down for the night was just the thing.
And yet, there was a gleam in Yellow's eyes that sent a nervous shiver up his spine, from the part of himself that he didn't understand. His human's tactics, alien and familiar to him all at the same time, embedded so deeply with an understanding of his Pride that the Witch hadn't been able to take it.
Yellow waited for the rest of their Pride to circle up, all of them gazing at him with a sense of expectation. He cocked his head further to the side, waiting for Yellow to speak.
"You know how to make this Judgment thing run, right?"
Wings flared an instant, then folded as scarlet widened. "Know. Yes," he admitted, wary as he examined his Pride.
Yellow crossed his arms. "Then let it run. We'll fix it afterwards."
He shook his head, fear twisting inside. "No. Should not. Will not."
"Why?" Silver pressed, one brow rising. There was something to his tone, something he should recognize, but recognition slipped away even as he reached for it.
A whimper-keen broke free. "Won't hurt. Promised."
Bronze moved closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Sarge. We get it; you don't want to hurt us again. But if that's the only way to free you, it's worth it. We can take a little pain."
He shook his head again, ears flattening. "Not understand. Must unbalance. Pride not right anymore."
"What, we'd be split in two like you?" Blue probed, frowning.
His wings flinched, cringing down. "No," he replied. "Not split. Unbalanced." Desperate, he scrambled for better words, only to feel red-gold talons digging into his mind. He keened, hands lifting to his head without thought.
"Easy, guys, we must be right on the edge of the geas," Pink cautioned, slipping up on his other side. "It's okay, Sarge; we understand."
But they didn't. They couldn't. "Can't," he rasped, straining against the binding. "Must not unbalance!" The words rose, but when he tried to speak, red-gold dug in harder, carving bloody tracks through his thoughts. And for all his struggle, he could not warn them.
"Buddy, we'll find a way. We always do," Yellow insisted. "Once we got you back, we'll turn this right around on her."
But they didn't understand – once they were unbalanced, they couldn't. Couldn't control their animal-spirits. Couldn't fight against their Mistress or Her High Priestesses. Couldn't get free, either, not without those of his blood. And if they were freed, his human would be gone. Forever and ever.
"No," he whimpered. "Won't hurt. Won't unbalance."
"Sarge, you gotta trust us," Blue urged. "We know what we're doing."
They didn't, they didn't. He shook his head wildly, wings flexing open and closed. Pink and Bronze were hemming him in, letting Yellow and Blue and Silver loom over him. All of them talking, all of them insisting. Wanting him to hurt them, thinking it would bring his human back. And it would, but they didn't understand the price. And red-gold wouldn't let him tell them.
He'd promised. Promised not to hurt his human ever again. Promised not to hurt his Pride ever again or even the human who'd hurt his Fledglings. Why? Why did his Pride want him to break his promise? It would hurt his human more if he did.
But…but… But Yellow knew his human. And Blue, too. If they said it was okay, maybe it was? Maybe his human could find a way to free them without being lost?
He pulled back, whimpering as Bronze and Pink followed him, step for step. Close, they were too close! Too loud, too insistent. Not letting him think. Human. He needed his human. But red-gold had taken his human away.
"Would you just do it!" Yellow roared. "Shouldn't be that hard for you!"
Wide scarlet turned upon Yellow, a fresh keen building up. "Not want to hurt."
"Well, then do it!" Yellow hissed. "The longer you won't do it, the more you're hurting us. Hurting your human." He paused, smelling of hurt and desperation and need. "Just, hurry up and do it. Give us Greg back."
He whimpered, wings flexing and he reached out. "Eddie…"
"No!" Yellow jerked away. "You don't get to use that name! You're not him!"
Hurting them. Hurting them, no matter what he did! It wasn't fair – he'd promised. How could he hurt them by not hurting them? He didn't understand. Human. His human would understand. His human would know. But red-gold had taken his human! It wasn't fair…
He backed up another step and a fresh scent caught his nose. Air. The wind – somewhere above him. He turned his head and spied them. Wood stones, leading upwards. Up to the sky. Away from humans he didn't understand. Couldn't understand, even though they were his. His Pride, who wanted him to break his promise. Hurt them, so bad they'd lose their colors.
"Sarge! We can take it." Bronze.
"Lou's right," Pink agreed. "We'll find a way, we always do, Sarge."
"Won't hurt," he insisted. "Promised."
Hands. Landing on his shoulders. He looked up into Yellow's eyes. "We got that, but this is the only way. The only way to get him back. It'll be okay."
No. It wouldn't be. It would never be okay. But he couldn't say that – she wouldn't let him. And his human was gone. He lurched back, left arm pushing Yellow away. Then he whirled and ran for the wood stones.
Ed darted after the gryphon, fury boiling in his veins. He'd known this was gonna happen. Sooner or later, the gryphon would get sick of playing nice and make its move. About the only surprise was that it hadn't tried to pull Greg's gun on them! Or maybe it was trying to stall until the links healed – good thing that would take another couple weeks, more than long enough to pin the thing down until they could get Greg back.
Two steps in front of him, Lou managed to hit the top of the stairs and reverse on his heel inside of a single stride. "He's goin' for the roof!"
The Sergeant's heart stuttered in his chest. If the gryphon reached the roof, there was nothing to stop it from flying away. No way for any of them to go after it, either; his hawk form's nighttime sight was nonexistent, but Greg had been able to travel almost exclusively at night when he'd been coming home from Colorado. That meant the gryphon could travel after dark, too.
But their fastest runner was trapped behind him and Lou – and the gryphon had way more practice in using his abilities than any of them did. Worse, Greg's phone was still sitting next to Spike's laptop, the one Lou had been using to compile all their information. Without the phone or the links, once the gryphon escaped, there'd be no way to track the thing.
As he pounded after Lou, the rest of his team on his heels, Ed could only pray the gryphon stopped. Even though he knew it wouldn't…
He reached the top, glancing up at the blackness above, speckled here and there with white points of light. The ground beneath his feet was flat, with no big metal barriers like the building he and Marina had escaped. There was a small wall running around the edges of the high ground, to keep the humans from falling onto the strange, hard ground far below.
Hurling himself to that wall, he flung his wings as wide as they would go, keening as loudly as he could with a human throat. Crying out for his human, pleading for guidance only his human could give. Begging for help, for some way to make his Pride see what he couldn't say.
In the space between worlds, harsh laughter rang out. Claws rubbed together in anticipation, dark red eyes gleaming in the vulture-headed demon's face. Next to him was another creature, very like a woman in appearance and possessed of an unearthly beauty.
So beautiful was she that Men had slaughtered each other, fighting wars to gain her hand and esteem, pledging all their treasures if she would but grant a single night of her 'divine' favor. Over the eons of human history, she had borne many faces and names, but the one to which she had now returned was that of Morrigan, the Triple Goddess.
And it was the Morrigan who bent a cruel smile towards the motionless figure hanging suspended in her High Priestess's Judgment spell, oblivious to his surroundings or the danger that threatened those he called his own. Unaware that his friends were ignoring the warnings he'd sacrificed his own awareness to give them. Unable to stop them or his feral half from sundering their authority over their feral sides, thus surrendering their free will to the demoness masquerading as a goddess.
So the demons laughed, secure in their triumph, for they knew their prisoner's animal side could not long withstand the pleas of his friends. A few minutes more and they would possess the humans' souls for all eternity.
Then something growled and they turned, terror filling them at the sight of what had invaded their sanctuary. He glowed, with power they coveted, but could not touch, shining from within with a horrid light they despised, but could never extinguish. In Him was every Righteousness they had perverted, all the Justice they sought to twist to their ends, and Holiness they had long since forsaken in their quest to conquer the Throne of His Father, the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea.
They cowered from His wrath, neither able to muster so much as a faint protest as He surveyed them and their captive. Then He threw His head back and roared.
Behind them, Greg Parker's eyes snapped open, glowing with the same white Light they so coveted, despised, and feared.
For a split second, he saw darkness and a demon realm far, far worse than the Netherworld. Saw creatures so horrid and twisted that his mind could not comprehend their malevolence. In that moment, he knew he was their captive, a hostage to ensure those he loved fell into their ancient snare.
Then he heard the Lion's roar, echoing within him and around him. Shattering the chains around his wrists even as he regained awareness. He heard Evil Incarnate wail in the face of the Lion's Wrath, quailing before His unsheathed claws.
Light blazed through his ethereal form, coming from the depths of his soul – an undeniable affirmation that he belonged to Aslan. In the space of a heartbeat, he saw and heard all the inhabitants of the demon realm in full retreat before the Lion. Then the Light engulfed him, pulling him away from a realm he never could remember afterwards, even in his deepest, darkest nightmares.
His knees hit the ground, palms landing an instant later; he inhaled as deeply as he could, somehow surprised to feel air filling his lungs. Surprised by his own awareness – how was he aware after battling through Morgause's binding magic three times? Distantly, he knew he was still under her curse, split in twain and stuck as a ghost. So what had brought him back?
Staggering back on his heels, he looked around, trying to figure out where he was – and what the heck was going on. Less than two meters away, he saw a vaguely familiar figure. Himself, except partially transformed into his gryphon form.
More memory filtered back and Greg Parker cringed, scanning for Marina. What had his wild side done to her once it was alone with her? She wasn't anywhere in sight and… This place looked familiar, as if he'd been here before. His wild side was standing right at a low wall, keening to the night sky above and gryphon wings fully extended – but where were they?
Then Lou ran onto the roof, right in front of Eddie and Sam, with Jules and Wordy bringing up the rear. Oh… It's the training building… He blinked once. Twice. How'd we end up here?
He heard a roar, right on the edge of hearing, and felt his power writhe, torn between him and his human. He snapped around, scarlet widening at the sight of his human, gazing up at him with eyes that still glowed with the Lion's power. Dazed, confused, but free of red-gold's binding!
He churred delight, wings bouncing as he seized Yellow's wrist and towed him towards his human. Once he was touching both of them, his human could explain everything to Yellow. It only took two strides to reach his human and he crouched, reaching for his human's wrist, just like before.
His human shook his head; when he hesitated, whining, his human lifted one hand towards him. 'Sorry; just…gimme a moment…'
Oh. His human was free now, but red-gold's imprisonment had hurt him. He rumbled a growl, tail lashing as his human folded over, clutching his head. Without releasing Yellow, he rested a hand on his human's shoulder, tugging at his essence. He belonged with his human, surely he could help his human now?
His human sucked in a breath, lifting his head again. The Lion's light was fading, but scarlet filtered in, swirling around his human's chest. His human grimaced and he felt a shiver of pain ghost through their connection, but after a few seconds, his human relaxed.
'Thanks.'
He rumbled a purr and adjusted his stance so he could grasp his human's wrist, tugging Yellow's hand close. His human blinked, then nodded, twisting so he could grab hold. Only for his fingers to go right through, as if he was the wind and Yellow's hand a wing.
They both blinked and his human tried again. And again. And again. A fifth time, but now desperation was shining, ghostly tears trickling down as human and gryphon realized just how cruel the curse around them was. For free Greg Parker's soul might be, but the geas had solved that quite neatly. If their Pride could not hear him, then it didn't matter in the slightest that he was no longer bound to silence.
With his wrist held captive in the gryphon's grasp, Ed couldn't do anything except crouch, trying to keep his balance with his remaining free hand. Much longer and he'd have to go down on one knee, an idea that burned – he wasn't going to kneel before the gryphon – the monster that had stolen his best friend and wouldn't give him back!
Then the gryphon's wings quavered, one of them tapping against his back, and the thing let out a soft whimper-whine, keen building up in its chest. "See…?" it pleaded, glancing towards him. Hope shone, but it was a futile, desperate hope – distantly, he wondered how he knew that.
"See what?" he snapped, tugging against that iron grip.
The gryphon's left wing struck his back again, but not violently. More like an involuntary movement, born of helpless plea.
"My human," it insisted. "Free, but…" It broke off, grabbing at thin air. "Pride. Can't see."
The sniper growled, finally yanking his hand away. "Then let us see him! Let the stupid Judgment run!"
'Eddie, no!' Greg blurted, a spike of icy terror shooting up his spine. 'You can't choose me this time!'
His wild side whimpered, but Ed never twitched, staring right through him – as if he wasn't there. Nothing but empty space. It hurt, even though he knew it wasn't Eddie's fault. No, it was Morgause's fault. That demoness's fault. The lieutenant clenched ghostly fists, wrestling with emotions that were far too close to the surface. Threatening to send him into a blubbering, quivering mess – his team couldn't afford that. Not when they were so close to convincing his other half to hurt them.
But the ruthless resolve that was normally his closest ally in these situations… It wasn't there, as if it had been ripped right out of him. Without it, his fear was teetering right on the edge of hysteria. Self-control slipping away even as he struggled to regain it.
Marina. How had he saved Marina without his ruthlessness? Fear? Terror? Desperation? He knew he had every bit of his intelligence, but that was a poor, ineffective weapon against emotion. So how…?
Then he felt it. Faith, trickling in and oh-so-small, but rock solid in its belief that the Lion wouldn't let the darkness win. Love, for his teammates, his friends, his family by blood and magic. Love that acknowledged the fear, but pushed it away, refusing to permit it a foothold. Hope, that there was a way out. A way to end Morgause's twisted Judgment without hurting the people he cared about.
With a sharp nod, Greg Parker turned towards his gryphon half. Okay. So his friends couldn't see or hear him, but they could hear and see the gryphon inhabiting his – their – body. The stakes might be higher than a typical TPI negotiation, but if the gryphon had even half his stubbornness, then Eddie and the others didn't stand a chance. Especially since the other half of that stubbornness was right there to back the gryphon up.
'Tell Ed that Judgment's not an option.'
So close. They'd been so close – Ed could feel it. And then the monster wearing Greg's body had shut them down. It was staring all of them down, lifting Greg's chin in an achingly familiar stubborn tilt, shaking his head at each volley. Every so often, it would glance towards the thin air it had towed him over to, but then it would turn back to them, arms crossed and wings folded tight in defiance.
Jules was trying now, patiently walking the thing through why they had to let the Judgment spell run. Why it was their only chance to get Greg back. It cocked Greg's head in a listening position, tail lashing every so often. But when the brunette negotiator was done, it simply shook his best friend's head, refusing without even giving them a reason.
Enough! He stalked forward, rage coiling as pure scarlet lifted to him. The monster whined, but this was all its fault! It didn't have the right to whine.
Greg sighed, rubbing at his eyes as Eddie loomed over his gryphon half. Under his breath, he muttered, 'Unstoppable force meets immovable object, round two.'
Then he blinked. Hazel widened with an impossible, improbable idea. Tricky, but maybe, just maybe…
'Can you repeat exactly what I say?'
His gryphon side glanced towards him, ears perking forward at the hope in his voice. "Can try."
"Can try, what?" Eddie demanded.
Staring straight at his wild side, Greg forced himself to go as blank as he could, focusing just on the words he needed to say. 'OMAC Maxwell Coulson.'
"OMAC?" the gryphon echoed, flexing its ears in confusion. Good.
'Just say it!'
Scarlet orbs turned sullen, but the gryphon nodded and turned towards the rest of Team One. "My human say OMAC Maxwell Coulson."
"Gee, thanks, as if we didn't know that already!" Lou snapped.
Parker cringed – without Spike, he needed Lou to pick up on what he was saying, but if the less-lethal specialist wasn't listening… Still, this was the best idea he had. 'Agent, manager, same difference.'
His teammates, to a man, bristled, all of them glaring as hard as they could at the gryphon as soon as it repeated his words.
"You're not him," Ed snarled, jabbing a finger into the gryphon's chest. "Stop acting like you are!"
Focus, Parker. Breakdowns later. 'Xanatos Gambit.' When the gryphon hesitated, he stepped forward, setting his jaw with every ounce of determination he had left. 'If you hurt them, I swear I'll get my kids to free them and commit suicide before I lose control again.' He waited for wide, terrified scarlet to swing towards him, then hissed, 'Now say it! Xanatos Gambit.'
The gryphon whined, but obediently said, "Xanatos Gambit."
Greg Parker stared at Lou, willing him to figure it out. 'Come on, buddy, I know you know this…'
"Whatever you're up to, it's not going to work," Ed snapped, pushing the gryphon backwards. "Now would you just do it?!"
"Xanatos Gambit…" Lou whispered suddenly, eyes widening. "That's when all paths lead to…" He shoved past his Sergeant, grabbing the collar of the gryphon's armor to haul his head down. "Are you playing Xanatos Speed Chess?"
He exhaled relief. Almost there. 'Yes.'
One lionish ear flicked towards him, then the gryphon whimpered, "Yes."
"Yes or no. Is this the Window or the Stairs?"
Checkmate! 'Yes.'
His wild side opened his mouth to reply, then keened, both hands rising to his head. Lou had to catch the gryphon before he collapsed. The constable eased the gryphon down, wrapping his arms around the armored chest and letting the gryphon lean against him, moaning in pain. Even as the invisible ghost hastened to his other half, regret a living thing on his face, the less-lethal specialist was turning to their teammates, a grim expression on his face.
"Guys, it's Sarge. He's the one who's sayin' no."
"That thing has Greg's memories," Ed snapped. "Of course it knows the OMAC codes!"
"I know," Lou acknowledged. "But only Sarge would know what a Xanatos Gambit is." He took a deep breath. "And only Sarge would think of getting around that geas thing by using TV Tropes. Spike and I showed him the site once and he thought some of 'em were really funny. Guess he looked up a whole lot more afterwards."
The tan-skinned constable reached up, tucking the gryphon's head down a little further into his uniform and gently rubbing behind the furry, feathery ears. At the soft whimpering whine, he shook his head. "No, Sarge, don't try to talk. We get it. We really get it this time. Promise."
Haunted dark eyes shifted back to the rest of Team One. "The Window or the Stairs means we're in a no-win scenario, guys. What looks like the easy answer is actually the worst possible outcome." A sardonic grin tipped his jaw. "So, just in case you're not getting it yet, letting Judgment run is exactly what Morgause wants us to do. And if we do it, I'm betting there isn't a way out of it. Not one we'd like, anyway."
There was a long, horrified silence as the officers absorbed their teammate's explanation. Then Eddie swore as vilely as he knew how and finished up with a defeated, broken, "Dammit, Greg."
Author Note: Ladies and Gentleman, boys and girls... The last post of 2023! For me, anyway. ; )
As ever, I hope you enjoyed! For those who may have missed it, there is a Christmas oneshot which I posted on Christmas Day - "This Baby".
In other news - as of last weekend, I started a rewrite of Small Beginnings, compressing my POVs down to just 5 characters instead of my entire main cast. It was a very difficult decision for me, but in the end, I have to consider my future readers. I don't want to chase them away because I haven't given them enough time to really get to know my characters. Also, I can always change things up in the sequel, but first I have to get the foundation of my series in place. (And Small Beginnings has to be successful or else there won't be a series!)
The rewrite also has some character changes - one character had to be demoted from the main cast and another main character is now getting introduced in the beginning of the book instead of mid-to-end. So, yeah - lots of changes in this rewrite.
I very much appreciate those who have included me/my writing in your prayers. Prayer is the most powerful weapon I have for Small Beginnings - well, also my keyboard, but prayer is a biggie. I would also appreciate prayer for my Mom. She is scheduled to have a pacemaker surgery in early January, which we all hope will give her a new lease on life. She's getting very tired of feeling weak and frail.
So as we ring in the New Year, may it be that the Lord gives each and every one of us a better year than 2023 has been. But if, in His wisdom, we are still going through the years of famine in 2024, I pray that He would grant His peace, love, and wisdom to each of us. May His provision be more than enough to bring us through the trials that lie ahead.
God Bless and Happy New Year!