AN- Dear Reader,
Thank you for staying with me! This chapter took forever but hopefully it turned out comprehensible and not too convoluted to be interesting. A grateful and sincere thanks to Quinn Taxon for beta reading it for me and holding me accountable for all my plot holes! I feel like the highway department, going around with a shovel and filling them all in! Anyway, all reviews are gratefully appreciated! Thanks, Allegra
It is another universal truth that the miscreance that is typically brought on by blossoming pubescence is not always accompanied by the greatest thoroughness or foresight. It was almost inevitable that upon finding his cellphone smudged with bright red crumbs and smelling of chili and paprika, Owen would immediately go back into his call history and determine what mischief Alexander had been up to. Therefore, it didn't really surprise Brooklyn or Adelpha that Owen was already waiting in the hanger to greet them as they arrived back at the castle, his arms crossed and his eyes nearly blazing with quiet, seething anger.
"Fancying a moonlit stroll in the garden?" Owen demanded coldly.
"Yeah, something like that," Brooklyn replied as they piled out of the cramped vehicle.
"I trust you managed not to destroy anything too priceless?" he asked snidely.
"What would bring you to that conclusion?" Adelpha retorted, but Brooklyn placed a warning claw on her shoulder.
"We stayed out of the tulip beds," he promised.
"Very good," Owen replied coldly, gazing at them with emotionless, steel blue eyes, "I took the liberty of relocating your prisoner to a place more suitable for long-term confinement. She will have a sun lamp during the day, which should improve her health, and improved furnishings might make her more comfortable."
"As it turns out, she may not be staying long!" Brooklyn replied jubilantly, "We found out that she's innocent!"
"Indeed?" Owen asked, seeming almost genuinely surprised, "That leaves only the matter of this."
Owen removed the long, narrow container from within his jacket and held it out to Brooklyn, who took it from him and sighed.
"She insists that this needs to go to Xanatos," Brooklyn told them, "But I don't know."
"Can she not tell you anything about what's in it?" Adelpha urged.
"She says it contains 'the truth', whatever that means," Brooklyn replied.
"Perhaps now that you can release her, she might be willing to share more information," Adelpha considered, "Assuming that she knows anything about what's in it herself."
"You're right," Brooklyn said, "But that can wait. Xanatos isn't even here for me to give it to him. I need to go tell the clan what's happened. They should be back from their patrol by now."
The clan had returned from their patrol, and Brooklyn found Lexington, Linnet, Thorn, and Blaze in the rookery with the two hatchlings, who were standing on either side of Alexander, each holding one of his arms and complaining to their uncles with anxious expressions of their small faces.
"Somethin's wrong with Alex!" Little Brother cried.
"Yeah! He won't talk right!" Little Sister explained.
Alexander stood between them, his red face looking both embarrassed and defiant. At his feet was a yellow pail with a toilet brush and two yellow rubber gloves. As he caught sight of Brooklyn and Adelpha approaching, his face grew even more angry.
"¡Ustedes me metieron en un gran problema con Owen!" he accused, crossing his arms.
"See?" Little Brother asked, "What's wrong with him?"
"There's nothing wrong," Lexington explained, "He's just speaking Spanish."
"¿Qué quieres decir con que no pasa nada?" Alexander demanded, "¡No lo hago a propósito!"
Little Sister scowled at Alexander.
"Why won't he stop?" she asked frustratedly, "I want him to talk to us like normal!"
"Maybe he's practicing for a test?" Brooklyn suggested, "Are you taking Spanish lessons, Alex?"
"¡No, no voy a tomar una clase de español!" Alexander retorted furiously, "Owen descubrió lo que hice con su teléfono y me dijo que tenía que limpiar todos los baños del castillo. Luego, cuando no lo hice, ¡Puck apareció y me lanzó este maleficio! Dijo que si me gusta tanto imitar las voces de las personas, ¡esto debería ser divertido! Luego dijo que mi voz permanecerá así hasta que cumpla mi castigo, lo cual NUNCA haré, ¡porque todo esto fue TU idea y TU culpa!"
"How clever!" Adelpha exclaimed with a knowing smile, "You really have gotten quite good!"
"¡Ay! ¡Tienes que estar bromeando!" Alexander growled with consternation and the others all laughed and congratulated him on his scholarship.
"Stop!" Little Sister whined, "Can't you see, he's stuck?!"
"Stuck?" Lexington asked.
"Yes! Stuck like my bunny was!"
Little Sister had been given an electronic toy rabbit with bright robotic eyes and the ability to hop around, sing, and provide vague answers to questions a child might ask it. After having been flopped around the rookery, tossed back and forth like a basketball, and dropped down the stairs repeatedly, it had surprised the hatchlings by beginning to answer questions in Spanish instead.
"Can you really not speak English at all, Alex?" Brooklyn asked curiously.
"¡No!"
"See!" the hatchlings cried, both wiggling with concern.
At this, Blaze and Thorn both burst out laughing.
"Aye! I knew this night would come, sure enough!" Thorn exclaimed.
"What?" Lexington asked anxiously, "What do you mean?"
"Don't you see?" Thorn demanded, "T'is the Takis that did it! The poor lad has eaten his own weight in Takis and this is what comes of it! Now he's speaking like a Mexican!"
"I never trusted that red flavoring," Linnet added grimly, "It looks unnatural. I think it has radiation on it."
"T'is an unlikely theory, say I," Blaze replied thoughtfully, "But that strange, unearthly color… Do you feel alright, Alexander? Do you have any pain?"
"Fix him, Uncle Lexington!" Little Sister pleaded, "Like you did my bunny!"
Blaze, Thorn, and Linnet all erupted in laughter at this request.
"Yeah, uh…Sorry, Sis," Lexington replied sheepishly, "I don't think you can fix a person the way you fix a toy bunny."
"Why not?" she demanded.
"Because your friend Alex doesn't want an unbent paper clip shoved up his arse!" Blaze answered between gasps of laughter, "Do you, lad?"
Furious, Alexander growled again, and Brooklyn placed a claw on his shoulder.
"All right, all right!" he said gently, "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to get you put on punishment."
"Although the bathroom near the north tower does need attention," Adelpha pointed out with a slight smile.
"Clan, how about we help Alexander with the bathrooms, so he can speak normally again?"
Alexander grinned triumphantly, and with a wave of his hands, the single yellow bucket became seven.
"Aye, aye!" Thorn replied cooperatively as he picked up a bucket and brush, "T'is not too menial a task for the likes of me, but I don't think these dainty gloves are well fit for a warrior my formidable stature!"
The glove shredded as he tried to pull it down over his sharp talons.
"You can wash your hands twice," Linnet reminded him as she picked up her own bucket .
Many hands, or claws, mean lighter work, and it was only a short time before Brooklyn finished his share of Alexander's punishment. As he scrubbed, he tried to think of the best way to coax information out of Sorrow, but he realized that he was becoming weary of playing these guessing games with her. She had been genuine with him, despite having been disbelieved by everyone else she had known. Knowing that, he felt a little crooked about the way he had been trying to manipulate her into giving him information. He didn't know if Sorrow had been speaking figuratively when she'd told the Beloved Mother that the children were dead, or if she had deliberately deceived her, but he was uncomfortable with how quickly he had judged her as guilty, especially considering how Adelpha, who was hardly known for her benevolence, had thought to question the confession and risked so much to seek the truth. Brooklyn had to remind himself that Adelpha had previous experience with the Bain Felix clan, which probably led to her guessing what had happened to the hatchlings, but it still left him questioning himself and wondering if he should not have given up on Sorrow so easily.
Owen had told him the location of Sorrow's newly designed cell and Brooklyn made his way there quickly. A discreet panel in the wall slid away to reveal the outer gate to the cell, which Brooklyn disarmed and opened.
"Sorrow?" he called excitedly as he put in the code to disarm the interior bars and open the gate, "Are you there? I have great news for you!"
From around a corner, Sorrow emerged, her eyes wide open in disbelief. She gasped at the sight of him, covering her face with her claws, and tears streamed from her eyes.
"Brooklyn!" she whispered, "You're alive!"
Confused by this greeting, Brooklyn replied, "Well…yeah…?"
Sorrow gave a loud sob, almost flinching as Brooklyn drew closer to her.
"I-I thought…" she struggled to whisper, "They took you away! I pushed you and...the bars!...I thought I had killed you!"
"Oh, no!" he replied, now realizing what had upset her, "No, I'm fine! I was pretty fried there for a while, but the sun healed me! I'm good as new now!"
This claim was an extensive reach on Brooklyn's part, as he had awakened already exhausted from healing from his injuries and the tussle with Striker hadn't helped his fatigue nor his residual aches and pains. But he didn't want to add to Sorrow's distress any further. Even so, she slowly sank to a crouch as her tears flowed.
"I didn't mean to hurt you!" she said as she wept, "You were so kind to me. You're the only one who listened to me. And this is how I repaid you!"
"Hey!" he replied gently, "I know you didn't mean to push me that hard. You were scared and angry and rightfully so. I realize now that you should have never been locked up in the first place. It took a while. I'm sorry for how long it took. But the truth came out eventually. About your mate, and about your hatchlings…"
Sorrow looked up at him suddenly, a shock of fear in her eyes.
"Yes, I found out about Bain Felix," he assured her, "I know your kids are safe there."
"But how?"
"Adelpha helped me," he told her, "We were able to lure Striker out of hiding and have a nice little talk with him. One of his warriors told us that your kids are in a rookery there, safe and sound."
"Oh, Brooklyn," she moaned, "I thank you for wanting to do that for me! But I wish you hadn't! Striker is…"
She paused, clearly afraid to speak further.
"A nasty piece of work?" Brooklyn suggested.
Sorrow looked at him sadly.
"He's powerful," she explained, "And ambitious. You must be careful around him."
"I know," he reassured her, "And that's why I have to ask you about one more thing, before I turn you loose."
Brooklyn took the strange box, made from the gargoyle-proof, magical material and showed it to her.
"I know you want me to give this to Xanatos," he explained, "But I have to know what's in it first. You must have some idea! Did Striker send you with it?"
"If you know Striker," she reasoned, "Then you know why I can't tell you anything. Please. You must just give it to Xanatos. When he opens it, you will understand why."
Brooklyn sighed.
"Can you promise me that there is nothing in this box that will directly harm him when he opens it?" he asked.
"I promise," she replied, "That there is nothing in there that can directly harm anyone."
"Alright then," he said with a nod, "I hope Alexander took his afternoon nap today, because I think we're still going to need him tonight."
Alexander's nature was both forgiving and adventurous, so he didn't harbor any grudges by the time Brooklyn and Sorrow found him in the library. He was sitting in an overwhelmingly large, leather armchair, with a massive tome with pages of thick parchment spread open on his lap. The effect of these two oversized objects made the boy seem extra small by comparison. He sat with his feet wiggling absentmindedly while he gazed at a page with an expression of healthy cynicism.
"Whatcha reading?" Brooklyn asked curiously and Alexander looked up at him.
"A book that Puck gave me to study," he explained, "He said it will help me learn the proper way to deal with my mortal subservients. Whatever that means."
"I didn't think that you could learn pure magic from a book," Brooklyn replied skeptically and Alexander shrugged.
"He said he wrote it himself, just for me. It's called, "Tormenting the Broken Soul; For Fun and Profit!"
"That sounds very interesting," Brooklyn replied uneasily, "But how about we try something a little more…not that."
He pulled out the strange box, which had begun to glow slightly and hum with a strange sound.
"Whoa!" Alexander gasped excitedly, as if he'd been presented with a Christmas gift, "What's in there?"
"I'm not sure," Brooklyn said, "But I have a hunch that you might be the only one here who can open it."
"Because I'm a halfling?" he asked.
"No, because you're a Xanatos, and the box is charmed so only Xanatos can open it."
"Charmed by who?" Alexander asked concernedly, "I'm not supposed to touch mortal magic. Puck says it could make me sick."
"Sick?" Brooklyn repeated anxiously. In his hope that box-opening charms were transferable to the next of kin, he hadn't considered the possibility that the magic that sealed the box could actually harm the pure magic part of Alexander. Quickly, he reached to take it back.
"Maybe we should…" he began, but Alexander interrupted with an excited shout as the box unsealed itself and the top slid open. But the boy's face immediately fell as he looked at the contents with the same disdain a young boy would look at a gift of garish Power Ranger socks.
"It's just papers and an old notebook," he griped and handed the box to Brooklyn, who carefully removed the contents and began examining them. Brooklyn looked at the small notebook, which seemed to be a journal, meticulously recording various communications, meetings, and events. The other documents were deeds, maps, designs, and other official papers pertaining to the gold mine and the mining company in Colorado. The last items he drew out were large photographs of what appeared to be symbols etched in stone.
Brooklyn glanced up from his findings to see Sorrow watching him with a strange expression.
"What is all this?" he asked her.
"It came from the caverns beneath the mountain," she explained, "Pagosa had it hidden there. I took it to show the Beloved Mother, so she would know what he was doing, and what he planned to do, but she would not listen."
"But what did he mean to do?" Brooklyn urged and Sorrow's face showed her horror at the thought of it.
"He wants to steal the Anasorso! And then sell it to wicked men who would use its power for terrorism and murder."
"Anasorso?" Alexander asked, "I never heard of that."
"The elders of the humans once spoke of a fire spirit, who erupted from the earth and burned all the villages of the unjust, leaving only a scour of devastation behind as it consumed everything living in its path. The spirit could be assuaged by acts of courage, charity, and honor, but if the people abandoned their noble ways and lived dishonorably, the dark side of the creature would rampage one again.
When I was a hatchling, we were taught in the rookery that Anasorso slept deep within the mountain, and our clan must always guard it from the outside world and honor it by protecting our valley, lest it should awaken and destroy us all."
Sorrow stopped, the pain of betrayal in her eyes.
"I don't understand," Brooklyn told her, "How can Pagosa sell a fire spirit?"
"Pagosa discovered the secret," she replied in a mournful voice, "The elders never told us, Anasorso isn't just a vengeful spirit. It's a magical weapon! One so dangerous that it could destroy a whole city if it was ever put into use. The band of humans that lived in the mountains created it over a century ago. Some of their magicians were so filled with the spirit of rage and hatred because of the loss of their land, they stole the ancient magic to create this all powerful weapon to use against their enemies. But the elders knew better. The healers of their clan told them that to willfully misuse the ancient magic of Anasorsco for hatred and violence would inevitably destroy their own people as well.
The human elders knew that the weapon must never be used and so they came to our people. The humans and gargoyles banded together to build a sarcophagus for Anasorsco, and keep it safely hidden within the mountain. For all this time, our clan has guarded Anasorso, keeping the miners from getting too close, and protecting it from those who would use its power for chaos and slaughter of the innocent. The secret of what Anasorso truly was might have died with Beloved Mother's generation, but somehow Pagosa learned of what was truly hidden down there."
"But if Beloved Mother never told the younger generations of the clan, how did you find out about it?" Brooklyn asked in amazement.
"It was not until I was banished that I learned the truth. I woke one night to find my mate inexplicably slain at my feet and myself soaked in his blood. Pagosa tried to tell me that I had gone mad and killed him myself. I knew that wasn't true, but I didn't know what had actually happened and I simply could not yet believe that our clan's lifelong friend would lie about me that way. I believed that there must have been some sort of trickery or misunderstanding that would lead Pagosa to make such a claim. But trickery or not, Beloved Mother believed him.
I was banished and shunned from the only community I knew. I had to leave my home, but I didn't go far. As a hatchling, I had played in the forests of the mountain until I knew it blindfolded, and I remembered a small sinkhole that had formed over an old tunnel that was collapsing. I took shelter there, coming out only to greet the dawn. From that spot on a cliffside, I could watch my brothers and sisters as they came and went from the valley below. Sometimes, I even heard their voices and my heart ached for them. The clan's guard-beasts found me there, more than once. They can track anything! But they knew me and didn't sound the alarm. Some nights they hunted and brought me rabbits or even a marmot from the high meadows. And I stayed there alone, yearning for my brethren and my children.
Eventually, I got the idea to try to find the evidence to prove my innocence. It took a while for me to dig through the broken tunnel myself, but I managed to create a small opening so I could sneak into the deepest corridors, where the clan never entered. My mate had been friends with Pagosa. Often he would disappear for nights at a time with him. I was always suspicious of what they were doing, because he never returned with game or fish and he always smelled strongly of the explosives used in the mine shafts. When I would ask where he had gone, he would heap abuse on me and tell me that Pagosa had entrusted an important mission to him and I should not question him.
I spent many nights searching the old tunnels and chambers using old lanterns and lights I found among the miner's equipment, hoping to discover what had happened to my mate. Then one night, I discovered Anasorsco.
In the deepest of chambers, I was surprised and confused to find tiny beams of light, shining through cracks in a weak wall. I couldn't explain it, so I carefully dug at the wall until I was able to break through and discovered a brightly lit chamber that housed a massive and strange structure. Its walls were a strange material, more like molten metal than stone. It was warm to the touch, as if heated by some sort of energy within. Indeed the chamber seemed to pulse with energy, and a dreadful presence of wrath that both repulsed and called to me. And etched on the walls of the chamber, as well as the sarcophagus itself, were the symbols that warned trespassers that they were in the tomb of Anasorsco, who sleeps now but is never dead as long as fear begets hatred."
Sorrow, took Pagosa's photographs of the markings in the stone and showed them to Brooklyn. He did not understand the meaning of the symbols for himself, but he was inclined to believe Sorrow that they indicated the prison of a deadly fire spirit.
"I searched the area," Sorrow continued, "Trying to make sense of what I was looking at and that's how I found Pagosa's journal. Of course, I couldn't read all the words he had written in the language of the outsiders, but I found this page."
Sorrow opened the journal and showed them a vertical line of markings that Brooklyn recognized as similar to the symbols that the mountain clan etched on their wings, which represented their identities like unspeakable names. Beside each were various other markings, which Brooklyn could not understand.
"These are the symbols of people," she explained pointing to the etching on her own wing, "They give our individual identities, but also something of who we are."
Then she pointed to a mark on the page.
"And this one was my mate. But Pagosa marked his name with the symbol of disgrace. Here, he accuses my mate of betrayal and makes him his enemy. It is the same mark they placed on my symbol when I was banished."
At this terrible memory, Sorrow reached down for the silver brand on her wing. Sadly, she showed them the angry-looking etch around the perimeter of the circle. It was indeed the same as the scrawled marking around the symbol on the paper.
"My mate had a difficult spirit to get along with. He was of poor intellect, given to bad temper, and prideful. He was not a good mate. But he served his clan honorably. He was not a traitor. If he had crossed Pagosa in such a way as to be marked as an enemy, I knew that there was something seriously wrong. And if Pagosa had legitimate grievances against my mate, why would he not come before the clan to accuse him? When Pagosa accused me of murdering him, he addressed the clan with no hindrance and spoke of my mate like a loving, grieving brother. I became convinced that it was not a misunderstanding at all. I believed Pagosa had killed my mate and intentionally accused me to hide his crime.
It was not long after that I was discovered. My own brothers hunted me down and brought me to Beloved Mother as an enemy. I tried to show her the journal and begged her to believe in my innocence, but she would not hear a word against the grandson of her favorite. I was beaten harshly for having returned to my home, and told that I would be killed like a foe on the battlefield, if I dared to return again. As I lay in pain on the floor of the cavern, I overheard Pagosa discussing my fate with the rest of the clan. He was certain I would try to return and he feigned mercy and concern. He suggested that at day break, he would take me in a truck, and drive me away from the mountains and into the desert. He said he knew of a place among the mountains of painted stone where I could live in peace and would be unable to return to the clan. Of course, I realized that there was no such place. I knew he would shatter me the moment the sun met the horizon and while Beloved Mother praised Pagosa for his mercy and kindness, she was also sentencing me to death. As the others planned to take me to the old mine, where Pagosa supposedly had his truck, I crawled away from the others. I somehow gathered my strength, collected the bag of documents no one would look at, and hurried toward the rookery.
I only meant to say the last farewell that was denied me the first time I was banished. I wanted to tell my children that I loved them and beg their forgiveness for leaving them. But when I found them among their siblings, and left quite alone by the rest of the clan, who were all together, deciding my fate, I changed my mind. My hatchlings knew me at once and scampered into my arms. I could not stand to leave them again. The clan caught me as I was trying to escape. They threatened me and brandished their weapons at me, but they would not risk an attack while I held the hatchlings. My brothers' and sisters' helpless screams and roars of outrage were all I heard as I left my home for good. I became a rogue and I will never return there again."
Brooklyn and Alexander listened in silence to this heartbreaking story, and several moments of silence followed as they all digested the painful details. Brooklyn's heart ached for the pain of his friend, and raged at the injustice she had endured at the hands of those she had loved and trusted. In addition to fantasizing about breaking the face of this Pagosa character, which he realized was not a healthy outlet for his grief, he yearned to comfort Sorrow and protect her from future harm. Had Alexander not been present, he might have asked her to let him hold her. But since they weren't alone, he thought it best to get back to the matter at hand.
"How did you find out that Anasorsco was a weapon?" he asked her, "And what Pagosa meant to do with it?"
"Striker," she replied, "A band of his warriors found us when we were in the wilderness and…"
She looked at him uneasily.
"I cannot tell you that part," she realized, "But the evidence is all here in the journal. Pagosa has a plan to sell Anasorsco to a group of humans who are descendants of the ancient people of the mountain. They wish to reclaim the land and Pagosa is trying to convince them to do so through violence. That's what he wants the mining equipment for. He believes the design is strong enough to pierce the sarcophagus, but precise enough to free Anasorsco from its prison without detonating it and destroying the mountain. Then these terrorists could take it away to use it against anyone they wish.
I couldn't read those passages of Pagosa's journal myself, of course, but Striker and his comrades could and it distressed them greatly. I was ordered to bring it to Xanatos. He was the man with the power to stop this transaction, before…anyone else…had to get involved. And now he has left already and I failed to give it to him."
Sorrow looked down defeatedly, "What if Striker will never allow me to return?"
Brooklyn cringed a little at her fearful question. He knew Sorrow had good reason to want to return to Bain Felix, but Brooklyn wasn't the least bit fond of the idea of his friend joining the Bain Felix clan amid the turmoil he had witnessed earlier. Neither was he fond of the notion that Striker now had intimate knowledge of this very dangerous weapon of chaos and mass destruction. He was not at all convinced that Striker's interest in Anasorsco was simply benevolent concern for the safety of the humans caught up in a land dispute.
"Don't worry, Sorrow," he consoled her, "It's not too late to tell Xanatos about Pagosa's plan. Right, Alex?"
"Right!" Alexander replied as his well-trained, agile thumbs attacked the buttons on his cellphone with inspiring speed and accuracy, "How do you spell 'Anasorsco'?"
As Alexander sent his message, Brooklyn thought of another unnerving question.
"Sorrow! Does Beloved Mother know about Pagosa's plan?"
Sorrow looked stricken by this question as well.
"I do not think that Beloved Mother would ever agree to such a plot," Sorrow admitted, "Nor would the clan. But I believe she is blind to Pagosa's treachery. She will always think of him as the grandson of Great John, and a courageous, honorable man as his grandfather was. He could kill them all, before she would believe otherwise."
"Hey, is that a flash drive?" Alex exclaimed as he pointed out the small plastic object dangling from the spiral binding of the journal. Brooklyn unhooked it and tugged on what appeared to be a cap. It came off easily, exposing the USB port and Brooklyn declared,
"Let's see what Lex can make of this!"
A short time later, Lexington had joined them in the library, carrying his newest laptop. Having been briefed on the concerning information they had discovered about the mountain clan and Pagosa, Lexington went to work going through the contents of the small USB drive.
"I see lots of sketches and specifications for how Pagosa plans to unearth this thing. He's gotten some help from the outside. This stuff is the work of a trained engineer and probably a geologist too, and they do not recommend attempting this project. And he's got quite a lot of research here on the Anasorsco legend. Alot of it was done fairly recently by a graduate student at the University of Colorado."
Before long, he groaned out loud as he read.
"This is not good!" he told them, "Listen!"
He read them an exchange of emails between Pagosa and two doctoral students who were leaders in an organization that called for the reclaiming of native land through any means necessary. The emails explained how Pagosa had heard of the organization's failure in court to reclaim the valley adjacent to the mountain, and was offering them another "more aggressive solution", for a price. The emails suggested that the students had visited the site, and met with Pagosa by day, but no follow-up emails had been saved in the document, to tell them what had happened.
"Do you think he's already managed to sell Anasorsco to some terrorist group?" Lexington asked anxiously.
"No," Brooklyn replied gloomily, "I suspect those poor guys were the two bodies they found in the cavern. I guess, once they saw what Pagosa had to offer them, they backed out pretty quickly."
"Maybe they were looking for something a little less aggressive than killing off a whole city," Lexington suggested.
"Or more likely, they heard Pagosa's spiel about a weapon made from a combination of ancient sorcery and modern human malice and decided he was a complete crackpot."
"Either way, they already knew too much," Lexington realized as he continued pouring through the files, "Poor guys."
A short time later, Lexington sighed again.
"He has another buyer," he announced in a disgusted tone, "And this one is a familiar face!"
Indeed, the name on the new set of emails was Will Marshall, a man with whom the Manhattan clan was unfortunately well acquainted.. Marshall had started off as an unemployed, indebted, and otherwise discontented resident of smalltown Illinois. Then one day, to the shock of his friends and family, he suddenly left his hometown and began a whirlwind career of increasingly strange and dramatic acts of activism, under the alias "Piasa". The causes he supported were many and inconsistent. His antics were mostly acknowledged by the public with a mixture of annoyance, humor, and pity. He had become, to the embarrassment of his family and the consternation of "serious activists", a public joke in the local media and was quickly expanding world wide on the internet. Then, to the horror of everyone that followed him, he had very publicly and dramatically made the switch from odd, aggressive activism to outright murder with his involvement in a bombing on an "L" train station in Chicago that had killed fifteen people, including six children.
He had escaped the authorities despite a massive manhunt, but a few months later, the clan had discovered him in New York, trying to organize a group of young, would-be activists to be his minions in a plan to destroy the harbor and cut off the shipment of supplies. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Brooklyn had to smile at the thought of how Angela had managed to convince the angry crowd of discontented youth that violence was not the way to make peaceful the world they would have to live in. Despite their anger, hurt, and fear, they had trusted her, and turned on Marshall. Exposing him to the police and allowing for his capture.
Unfortunately, his attorney was able to use Marshall's 18 months of strange behavior to his advantage. He pled 'not-guilty by reason of insanity', even blaming his young followers for manipulating him into committing the bombing and planning the attack in Manhattan. A year in an unnamed mental institution, and he was back on the street. Brooklyn sighed with disgust.
Pagosa had found a perfect buyer in Marshall. Not only was he eager to believe Pagosa's claims that he possessed a weapon made with ancient magic, but the madman certainly had the rage and mental sickness to make use of Anasorsco, and he had already proven himself quite talented at shilling money off of people. The bombs for the commuter train tragedy in Chicago had all been funded by small, well-meaning donations of people who believed they were donating to "help the under-privileged and marginalized", but Marshall had set his sights on higher backers in New York, and he had succeeded in raising an unbelievable amount of money in a very short time, all with lies and manipulation. Of course, these funds had all been confiscated after his arrest, but Brooklyn had no doubt that Marshall could get more, and very quickly.
As much as to take his mind off the maniacal terrorist as to leave no stone unturned, Brooklyn began to skim through Pagosa's journal again, while Lexington continued to get all the information they could use from the flash drive.
"According to these notes, Pagosa knows it will take weeks of constant work to get Anasorsco out of its sarcophagus," Brooklyn told them as he studied the journal in greater detail, "How does he expect to do that with the whole mountain clan around?"
"Because once he talks Xanatos into getting him the equipment he needs," Lexington replied ominously, "Pagosa doesn't expect the clan to be around. Look."
Grimly, Brooklyn read over the email exchange Lexington was referencing. In an email, Pagosa had told Marshall that Anasorsco would have to be excavated by day, as it was not reachable by night. After some pushing from Marshall, Pagosa confessed to him that the weapon was indeed guarded by a clan of gargoyles, who slept during the day. Marshall was still feeling very vindictive regarding the Manhattan gargoyle's success at not only stopping his plan to create chaos and mayhem, but turning his own followers against him and he was not willing to risk gargoyle interference again. Therefore, "thorough extermination" of the mountain clan was one of his hard stipulations. Brooklyn reread the passage three times in disbelief and disgust. With no perceivable reluctance, Pagosa had promised to destroy the last of the clan that had been friends with his people for centuries.
No less gruesome was the plan for David Xanatos, who Marshall called a 'rich, traitorous bastard', should he be the least bit uncooperative in providing what they needed. If he would not agree to assist them, Pagosa and Marshall intended to get the money by ransom.
"Hey, Alex?" Brooklyn asked gently, "Did your dad reply to your text message yet?"
"No," Alexander replied.
"Well, don't send him any more details," Brooklyn said urgently, "Just tell him to contact us right away."
"Why not?" Alexander asked anxiously. His enhanced senses seemed to pick up on the fact that something was very wrong.
"Never mind," Brooklyn said dismissively, "But let me know if he texts you back okay?"
Alexander gave him a skeptical scowl, clearly not appeased by this demeaning adult brushoff.
"Is my dad in trouble again?" he demanded.
"Probably not," Lexington replied with a bit more sympathy, "There's almost no cellphone towers anywhere near the mine. I'm sure that's why he hasn't replied."
Alexander looked a little more comforted but he was still frowning.
"I'll tell Owen to call the mining company and see if they can get him to call us on the landline!" he declared suddenly, then jumped to his feet and ran off without waiting for a response.
"What's he up to?" Brooklyn wondered suspiciously.
"Nevermind," Lexington told him anxiously, "We need to get out there quick!"
"Do you really think this Pagosa guy is going to get something like this past Xanatos?" Brooklyn asked, "He's got Goliath with him and neither of them are idiots. Xanatos is already pretty suspicious and he has been doing his homework the last few days."
"Do you want to risk the lives of Xanatos, Goliath, and a whole clan of innocent, unsuspecting gargoyles? Not to mention whoever happens to be in the path of that weapon when it gets sold?"
"You're right," Brooklyn agreed, but it's almost sunrise, and we are hours away, even in the flightpods.
"Oh, ye of little faith!" Lexington chastised with an arrogant tone, "Give me thirty minutes!"
"What's going to happen in thirty minutes?" Brooklyn asked suspiciously, "Did you develop an app that can reverse the rotation of the earth and buy us more time?"
"Not yet," Lexington said with a laugh.
Brooklyn turned and nearly tripped over Sorrow, who he had almost forgotten. She had crouched in silence during the whole of this conversation and Brooklyn didn't know how much she had understood, but her face showed clear confusion and pain.
"Your clan is in trouble," Brooklyn told her in as gentle a voice as he could, "Pagosa has betrayed them."
"I know," she replied coldly, "But they are no longer my clan."
"Come on," Brooklyn said to her with a sigh, "I guess it's time for us to part ways."
As the two of them made their way through the courtyard and up the side of the curtain wall, Brooklyn asked,
"Where will you go, now that you are free? Will you return to Bain Felix?"
Sorrow looked back at him with a conflicted expression, but didn't answer.
"Do you know how to find them? Or do they find you?"
Sorrow nodded absent-mindedly but still remained silent.
"You would be welcome here," Brooklyn boldly initiated, "My brothers and sisters could become your new clan. We aren't as many as your own clan, or near as many as the Bain Felix clan. Our protectorate is a difficult and often dangerous place for us. But we are happy. We love one another. You could find peace here."
Tears brimmed in Sorrow's eyes.
"I don't know that I can ever have a clan again," she confessed sadly, "After what my own clan did to me…I'm not whole anymore… maybe I am better off alone."
Brooklyn reached for her, touching the side of her face, just beside her magenta mask. Sorrow tilted her head down so she didn't have to look him in the eye.
"We are not meant to be alone," he told her gently, "It's no good for us. It's heartbreaking, what happened to you, but I know you can learn to trust again. I know you can forgive them and make yourself free to start again."
"I will never forgive them," Sorrow replied bitterly.
Brooklyn sighed.
"Will you forgive me then?" he asked, "For capturing you unjustly?"
Sorrow suddenly looked up in surprise.
"Brooklyn, you went through a lot to help me. You found the container for me. You faced Striker, even though he might have taken you prisoner. You got me free of my clan's leader. You listened to me and believed in me." She leaned forward and gently kissed his cheek
"I am so grateful to you," she said softly, and Brooklyn seized the final moment of privacy to embrace her firmly and warmly.
"Stay," he pleaded in a whisper, "When I return from Colorado, I will-
"Are you going to my home?" she interrupted, "How?"
Brooklyn shrugged.
"Jet? Teleport? Laser beams? With Lexington, anything's possible. But we have to be certain that Xanatos gets the message that this Pagosa guy is no good. Otherwise, he is in danger and so is my leader, along with the rest of your clan."
Sorrow seemed to consider this for a while, then she embraced him tightly again.
"You are so brave, Brooklyn," she whispered in his ear, "But please, be careful!"
Before Brooklyn could say, "I will," she had spread her wings and was gliding across the sky below him.
"You too," he said softly, before heading down to meet Lexington.