The Watcher's Stone

Chapter 13: Chirugai v. Culcrys

Morgau Vasiley stood some feet away in a plain black diving suit, blocking the exit to the tunnel and chewing a piece of gum. Her short stature, nevertheless intimidating, was all the more imposing by the intense glare she leveled at him and the weapon she held loosely at her side: the Culcrys.

So she had found it in Castle Kriegler. But could she use it?

As if answering his unspoken question, she lifted the staff in front of her body and the ends extended on psychic command, elongating to the same length as her height, the curved blades at either end glinting in the firelight. A pink bubble expanded from her pursed lips, popped noisily in the silence, and she drew the gum back into her mouth, jaw working furiously. Kurtis unclipped his Chirugai from his utility belt, thrusting its blades out in answer. But he was loathe to make the first move. She was literally the only one of his kind left in the world. Did they really have to destroy each other?

Maybe she can be reasoned with. She's just a girl.

"You know where we are?" Kurtis asked as though they were just having a conversation, and not about to fight to the death.

Vasiley continued chewing. "Yeah."

"These are our ancestors."

A blank stare was her only reply.

"The Vasiley cubiculum is just over there," he nodded towards it.

Morgau turned her head in the same direction and spat her chewed gum out. The Culcrys faintly glowed orange.

"If we're gonna do this," Kurtis finished, "we should at least take it outside. Show a little respect for our Order."

"Just shut up," she barked in a flat tone, her brows low over her eyes. One foot sliding back, she crouched into a fighting stance, bringing the Culcrys to a ready position, its orange shimmer growing more vivid.

Perhaps Kurtis was imagining it, but she did not seem angry anymore, just resigned. Maybe she wasn't brainwashed, maybe there was another reason she was doing this. Not strong enough to resist Eckhardt, or a Nephilim? The contraption encasing her torso had to do something with it, he was sure. Karel manipulating her with a promise he would never fulfill, a promise to undo the damage Eckhardt wrought on her?

"He's using you, you know. Whatever he's told you–"

"Not if I give him your head," she cut off, and dashed towards him.

Kurtis backpedaled, throwing his Chirugai out too late and rolling himself over one of the sarcophagi just as Morgau's Culcrys thrusted at him. Damn, she was fast, even faster than he remembered. The Culcrys glanced off the sarcophagus and then she was bringing the staff upright to block his Chirugai as it aimed for her neck. Orange sparks erupted where the two Ferilium blades clashed, then Kurtis drew the weapon back to himself, dashing for farther ground. He had the advantage if he could keep her from getting close, but if she did he was screwed, as the Culcrys had much longer reach in close-quarters.

Too bad for him Morgau would be trying to do the exact opposite.

A baetyl arrow sliced the side of his calf and he stumbled, turning in time to see another one coming for his face. He stopped it dead in the air with his mind, then with a flick of his hand sent it careening right back at her.

Rather than stopping it with her mind, Morgau dodged the attack, teeth bared. Kurtis manipulated the other baetyl that cut him and sent it in a curved course from above, nose diving down towards the top of her head. Arm shielding her face, she glanced the flying arrow away with the blade of the Culcrys.

If she was going to keep throwing baetyl arrows at him this would be too easy. There was no way she had even close to the same extent of training with them as he had. His bare foot scraped over a rough rock on the ground, and it gave him an idea. Hands spreading out, he lifted all at once the loose rocks and pebbles from the ground to chest height, then launched them all at Vasiley like a hailstorm.

Crying out, she shielded herself again, falling to the ground to avoid the bigger rocks but still getting pummeled by some of the smaller and medium sized ones.

But she recovered from the onslaught quickly. With little droplets of blood oozing from the small nicks and cuts, she hopped to her feet and snarled, her white hair plastered to her face like a wet, angry cat.

On her own utility belt were several more baetyl stones, ready for deployment.

Well, she started it.

Kurtis launched them all from her belt, two immediately lodging into her arm, the others either quickly deflected or flying just out of reach like a swarm of wasps. Keeping them in constant motion, he directed alternating blades to swipe at her, opening fresh gashes in her body, the wetsuit tearing open along her arms and legs. Only her torso, encased in metal, did not bleed. Morgau at first tried to fend the assault off with her Culcrys, then making eye contact with Kurtis across the distance, simply ignored the attacks and sprinted towards him.

Uh-oh.

Of course, the wounds which would heavily slow down or stop any other foe either through the pain or the damage, was barely felt and would soon be healed by the unholy changes inflicted upon her.

Quickly he leaped backwards, tripping over one of the medium sized stones discarded during his attack. Falling onto his back, he raised his Chirugai up to block the incoming Culcrys. The orange blades glanced off one another, and the curved blade of the Culcrys jutted out unexpectedly. He jerked his head to the side, narrowly missing being stabbed in the face.

Using his superior size, he thrusted his lower half upwards, sending the small Vasiley off balance. With a psychic shove he threw her off the rest of the way, buying himself just enough time to hop to his feet and dash away.

He ran to the nearest sepulcher for cover, tossing his Chirugai after him, but before he could duck behind it he felt a baetyl blade slice across his back.

With a small cry he tumbled towards the entrance to the Guilhelm cubiculum. He directed the Chirugai around, not surprised when Morgau blocked the spinning blade with her own. She ran after him, closing the distance quickly as he could do little more than evade her attacks and keep moving.

Inside the cubiculum she paused her pursuit momentarily, and with practiced motions lifted and hurled a sepulcher lid at him. Kurtis raised his hands to redirect its trajectory but too late – the large stone lid slammed into him. He caught it in his arms and threw it off. It crashed into the wall nearby, crumbling stone. A crack had opened in the back wall of the cubiculum.

Within the couple moments he took to get the lid off of him, Morgau had closed the distance between them, and the second his hands were free she leapt onto him, causing him to fall onto his back once more. Her Culcyrs raised high, she jabbed it down at his face. Kurtis jerked his head to the left side and the curved blade glanced off the stone floor.

Once more she raised the staff and jabbed it at him and he dodged to the right.

On the third time she didn't jab – just as Kurtis was about to move his head back, she extended the end of the blade, barely missing slicing his cheek.

He grabbed the staff of the Culcrys and attempted to rip it out of her grasp. With all his strength he threw it to the side. Morgau had refused to let go but wasn't strong enough to stop him, and together the pair tumbled off Kurtis.

Rolling to his feet he ran out of the cubiculum once more, aiming for the exit. He couldn't kill her. Not because he was feeling sentimental – though that was certainly a factor – but because she simply healed too quickly and moved too fast. He'd have to try for an instant kill – beheading her or crushing her or something of that sort. Anything else she'd heal from before she would die.

With that in mind, he skidded to a halt and spun around. The support columns…

Raising his arms towards the two columns flanking St. George's tomb, he flung out as much energy as he could. He pictured ropes wrapping around the columns and tugging them loose.

Cracks appeared in them. One up the center, more along the edges.

Morgau exited the cubiculum. Her enraged face had softened to annoyance.

Must not be used to fighting other paranormals, he thought with a smirk.

"What are you smiling about?" she sneered. "I'm going to kill you!"

"Why's it taking so long?" he teased. "Just now realizing you've been relying too much on Eckhardt's enhancements? I'd've finished you twice by now without them."

"Shut up! Don't talk about Eckhardt! Hand over the Watcher's Stone and I'll pretend you got away."

Kurtis narrowed his eyes. So she didn't really want to kill him, either.

"Sorry. Just my head will have to do."

She ran after him and a few meters away, suddenly stopped as if thinking better of it. Instead, she began to pace around, watching him like a big cat stalking its prey. Kurtis mirrored her, pacing in the opposite direction. Away from the exit.

Outrunning is impossible… but killing her is almost impossible. I have to create an opening. She must be thinking the same thing.

Quick as lightning Morgan shot out two baetyl stones. He couldn't stop them in time and they sliced his thigh and his forearm, sending him down to one knee in pain.

Now or never. Ancestors, forgive me.

He shoved out a wave of energy with all his might, summoning heat and force from his palms. The two cracked support columns, each on either side of him, came loose. With a deafening roar they dislodged and crashed to the floor. The entire ceiling around it caved in, a tidal wave of icy water pouring down on them and chunks of stone and concrete toppling with it, creating a barrier between the two Lux Veritatis.

Arms flailing, Kurtis was quickly swept off his feet. He rode the rush of water, directing his path to the Guilhelm cubiculum. The current of water pouring into the catacombs was so fierce he almost missed the entrance but he grabbed the lip of the threshold in time and pulled his body into the room. Right away he was shoved to the back wall where a thin stream was squeezing its way through the crack they had created earlier in the fight.

There was open space behind that wall; another exit must be back there. He had felt a faint breeze in the catacombs coming from this direction, but when he dove his head underwater he couldn't see much, the water being too agitated.

Taking a deep breath and fighting against the rising water, he plunged down and felt for the crack, then aimed a kick towards it. The crack barely widened; he'd need a much bigger opening to squeeze through. He kicked again and again, loosening more stones, but he couldn't put as much force into it as he wanted, barefoot and underwater, fighting the strong current.

He swam to the surface and gasped for breath, then dove under again. Unsheathing Ascalon from his back, he jammed the tip of it into the crack and pushed against one side, attempting to pry more stones loose. After a few moments he felt it give, and the pressure from behind increased as more water rushed past him through the widened hole.

After one last trip up for air and to sheath the sword – as the water had risen so much the cubiculum would soon be completely flooded– he dove down and kicked the edges of the hole until the water sucked him through.

Kurtis was spat out onto wet, slippery rock. He bolted up, gasping for breath, wincing at the new cut on the side of his foot from kicking at the stones. The cuts on his arms and legs stung from the salty water.

Swiping his hair plastered to his face, he observed his surroundings quickly. The hole was letting in an abundance of water and would continue to do so, and soon would fill the small cavern he was in with water, possibly drowning him if there was no real exit this way. But he had felt the air movement from this way before; there had to be something past here. An entrance to the surface? He pulled a flare and lit it, wading briskly through the rapidly filling corridor, doing his best to stay ahead of the water pouring out from the flooded catacombs. Every few minutes he automatically checked behind him to see if Vasiley was following, though it was readily apparent she had been swept away in the opposite direction.

The tunnel gradually began to rise and he climbed up it, and after a long time he proceeded far enough that he surpassed the water. The rocky ground beneath his feet was completely dry.

Eventually he came to a dead end. The corridor no longer rose gradually in steps, but stopped, and above was a tunnel straight up. It was dark out, but Kurtis could make out the stars shining above. There was the sky.

The trickling, rushing sound of flowing water continued to sound behind him. He could wait for the water level to rise, but there was no guarantee it would reach him this far up. Kurtis shivered; he was loathe to sink back into the chilly waters. He lit another flare.

Reaching upwards, he gripped a jut of rock in the tunnel and pulled himself up. Across from him was a foothold. The blood from his foot made the way slippery, but he began to ascend along the tunnel, his gaze focused on the stars above.

Fresh air blew in from above, drying and cooling him down as he exerted his muscles. When he breached the opening of the tunnel, he saw he had made it back to the rocky beach. A breeze tousled his damp and tangled bangs as he pulled himself free and rested on the pile of rocks at the shore. Kurtis shivered. He wanted to get back to the motorbike he rented and get into a change of clothes. But first…

He saw he missed a couple of calls from Lara's number.

He dialed her number but out here in the desert the service was so poor, the call couldn't connect.

Probably wanted to check what was taking so long, he thought amused. He was eager to see her again. But with the sword in his possession he wouldn't be able to take a commercial flight back without a big hassle; he'd have to drive, and that was a much longer trip. There was also the option of hunting out an airfield and stealing an aircraft, but the only small landing sites he was aware of weren't along the way – he'd have to detour quite a ways, likely not saving him much time while greatly increasing the risk.

He began the trek back to where he left the bike. He dialed Lara's number again. Nada. Still no bars. He'd have to try again once he got into town.

He snapped the phone shut. Morgau put a kink in their plans. He couldn't afford to find a place to crash for the night and take his time back. After changing into clean, dry clothes, and patching up his minor wounds, he kicked the bike into gear and drove off in the direction of Egypt, the desert night air blowing through his hair. He hoped he could make it back before Morgau, if she even knew where Lara was. But then again she found him in Libya… however she also seemed to have explicit orders to kill him, and also thought he had the Watcher's Stone with him. She might not have bothered tracking Lara if she thought she wasn't important…

In his heart he knew this was unlikely, but he still clung to that thought for assurance.

Just wait for me a little longer, Lara.

Lara was toweling her freshly washed hair dry when her room service arrived.

She sat down at the little table in the corner, lifting the lid from the platter. A simple English Breakfast was enough to make her stomach rumble. She hadn't had a solid, well-rounded meal since she left Paris. Everything had been street food, chocolate protein bars, or that awful dredge served to her at the Tsingy Inn. But this place, they served an English Breakfast, and were even willing to do so well after normal dinner hours.

She inhaled deeply, a small smile appearing. She began to eat, starting with the tea and beans. She closed her eyes automatically as she savored the taste. By far not the best English Breakfast, but compared to what she'd been eating before it was heavenly.

The tea was terribly bitter though, but tea was tea, so she added the included sugar packet to balance it out and continued eating and drinking.

She wondered how Kurtis was faring. Between bites she went over to where she had left the prepaid mobile phone on the bedside table and plopped back into the seat as she flipped it open. It hadn't made a peep the whole night.

She took another sip of tea. Perhaps if she hadn't heard from him by morning she would go to Libya herself. It was possible he simply didn't have good enough cell service to make a call, or it was taking him longer to retrieve the sword. She had only been joking when she told him not to get caught – she was sure he was smart and capable enough to avoid making that same mistake twice.

He's a big boy, Lara, he can handle himself.

She washed down some fried egg with the tea, and realized she was all of sudden quite tired. The food was hitting her hard. She blinked, and was nearly incapable of opening her eyes again. Her eyelids felt like they weighed a ton.

The tea.

Her head drooped. She pressed the redial button on her phone, and she heard it ring. Pushing herself to a stand, she swiped her hand through the platter, searching for a salt shaker. Salt, salt… Only a small packet of salt and black pepper was included with her meal. Who drugged her, and with what? Was it fatal? How did they gain access to her food?

Her legs felt like jelly as she stumbled toward the bathroom with the small packet of salt. She struggled to rip open the packet, but once she did it slipped from her fingers, its contents spilling out into the sink. Giving up on that, she stuck a finger down her throat unceremoniously and gagged immediately, but did not vomit. She tried again, but she could feel the strength leaving her body, her arms like two heavy weights dragging her down. She sagged to the floor of the bathroom, her vision swirling and swirling around her. Coldness spread through her veins, her head dizzy, her mind clouded. A persistent ringing sounded from the bedroom. Kurtis.

The door opened and someone knelt in front of her. Tipped her chin up. Icy blue eyes, lined thickly with black. White hair. Phone to her ear.

"You shouldn't have left her," she said into the phone.