.Duel

 

Eve was as relaxed as she'd ever been as Kane drove to the viewing.  She knew her place in the world and in Kane's heart. 

Kane was more anxious about the coming fight than he'd ever been since Jericho.  For someone who'd spent four hundred years waiting for something amusing to happen, it was suddenly all new.

He cared.  A decade before, he'd been blasé about fighting, about people, about history.  The only reason he fought at all was to keep the others from winning too easily.  He didn't think any of them deserved the Prize, not if John the Baptist couldn't be here to show his skills with an adze.

But now...  Now he'd found something different. He wasn't sure what would be more fun, though, watching her grow into herself or keeping her this wonderful, unique size.

The world had found something new to surprise and torment him with.  It was not a small thing.

"You know," he said suddenly, "I haven't heard a really new dirty joke in over four hundred years."

"And?" she asked from her place on the passenger seat.  She had been feeding a carrot to the caged bunny she'd touched.

"Oh, just....  I'd really thought the world couldn't surprise me anymore."

She smiled, knowing full well what he was finding new about today.  "What was the joke?"

"What?"

"Dirty joke," she said.

"Oh. Um.  Okay, there be two tobacco planters in Yonder Jamestown of a sunny day.  One turns to the other and says, 'Tis fine weather-"

They were approaching the gallery where the sculpture would be viewed.  They assumed...  Well, Kane had insisted that the Twins would break in during the night to secure their property.

Eve and Kane would be waiting when they did.  But before he even reached their reserved parking place, he felt the double pounding of two Immortal auras.

On the lonely midnight street, their car stood out as the only thing moving.  The only thing that changed as the Twins must have felt his own aura approaching.

A sports car surged away from the curb and arrowed towards Kane and Eve.  He threw the wheel over and shot down a side street.

"They're already waiting for us!" he said. 

"You said they'd come at midnight!"

"We must have made them too mad," he said softly.

"Can we get away?"

"They're driving something German," he said.  "We're driving a rental."

"So we need to ambush them!"

"Great idea.  Wish we'd thought of it before we needed the ambush!"

"Drive into a parking garage!" she ordered.

"Why?"

"Because that's the sort of place they'd expect us to set up an ambush!  It'll give them a moment's pause, that may be just enough."

He nodded.  It made sense.  There was an underground garage a few blocks from here.  He took a turn on two tires and headed for it.

"Plus, live or die, the Quickening will destroy a whole bunch of French cars," she said cheerfully.

"You are sooo English," he muttered.  But he swerved into the garage.  The 'take a ticket' barrier burst into splinters as he tore through it.

The chasing car slowed a bit.  He hoped it was because she'd figured them out, but suspected they just didn't want to scrape the car's paint job.  No pride of auto, cops these days could match paint chips found near the body to scrapes along a car 'seen fleeing the scene.'

Kane didn't plan to drive away from here anyway, so he slammed on through the pillars and the ramps at a breakneck speed.

He parked at the bottom of the last ramp, grabbed the bunny's cage and leapt from the car. 

Water dripped in the gloom.  Not too many cars were parked this low.  Partly the effort of getting back up again gave people pause.  Mostly, the maintenance staff almost never came down here. 

Lights were out or flickering, there were puddles and the smell...  Actually, the smell took him back to various homes across the years.

That was kinda depressing, really.

He slid the bunny into a shadow.  Eve had disappeared.  He assembled his kwang and waited.

---------

The car slowed to a stop.  They could see Kane's car, parked, one door left hanging open. 

One of them, Kane thought it was Tharl, stepped out of the passenger's side.  He carried a spiked axe and a scramasax.

The car backed up the ramp, the engine purring into the echoing distance.  Hjalmer'd be taking the car out of the range of the Quickening.  Cars seldom did well near such an energy discharge.

Tharl walked forward slowly.  His hands spun the weapons around theatrically.  Kane knew he was supposed to underestimate the showboater, charge forward and get Tharl alone.

But the Twin would just fight defensively until his brother could make it down here.  Then he'd have lost any element of surprise.

He stayed still, silent.  Tharl looked inside the car, shrugged and passed it.  "Why do I smell rabbit pellets?" he growled.  "Do you have the Death Bunny from the English movie?"  He laughed. 

Kane took a stone from his pocket and tossed it.  Tharl spun, not towards the sound, but in the opposite direction. 

Well, Kane had seen the movies, too.  He had dropped the rock next to his own foot.  He ghosted across the concrete, weapon raised.

Tharl heard him coming and turned, weapons raised.  Kane smiled and stabbed.

---------

Eve crouched in her hiding spot and heard the fight start.  After a few clashes, metal on metal, they started exchanging insults.  Combat banter.  "Men," she muttered.  You can take the Boy out of the Fertile Crescent...

They spat at each other and promised horrible deaths.  Kane was probably the better fighter, but the Viking wasn't trying to win, just survive.  Until his lousy cheating brother could get there and they could cheat.

Dirty cheaters.  She flexed her hands on the grip of her sword.  She'd decided to skip the curare for this fight. 

She had a lot to prove to Kane, still.  So she sat under the scrap of yellowed newspaper in the stairwell and waited.

The sounds of the children sparring almost hid the sound of the door.  Somewhere above her, metal touched as the Other slid into the stairwell.

He was ninja-quiet as he descended.  Eve saw a shadow over the paper, then a foot.  She waited, wanting it perfect.

He moved slowly, on the balls of his feet.  He rounded the landing and stepped out over the last flight down to the lower level.

She let go of her aura. 

It had probably been a century or more since Hjalmer or Tharl had really been surprised in combat.

Her aura flashed out, impossibly close, and startled him.  His descending foot missed the stair and he started to stumble down a step.

She jumped up and ran, throwing herself against the back of his leg, slicing the back of his knee as hard as she could.

The sword slid in like a dream.  He was hamstrung before he even touched the ground.  He shouted, in surprise as much as pain, and tumbled forward.

His weapon slid another three feet past his outflung hand when he landed.  It bounced off a pipe in the corner and lay there.  Eve was already bounding down the last steps, leaping onto his back. 

He screeched, his bearings lost.  All he knew was that he was weaponless and a damned Immortal was somewhere close, too fucking close.

She jogged up his back as he pushed himself towards his sword.  And stabbed his spine at the base of his skull. He flopped onto his back, arm extended with the hand out, pleading for mercy.  He couldn't quite focus on Eve, as she was closer than his own elbow.

Then it was sheer butchery.  She opened his jugular and shoved a boot into it.  It kept the blood flowing and the wound from healing.

And hacked.  And hacked.  She got into a rhythm, singing a vulgar sea shanty as her blade rose and fell, rose and fell.

She didn't see the hand reaching along the wall for the sword...

---------

Kane kept his attention on Probably Tharl.  He had to trust that Eve was able to handle herself wherever she was. 

She'd reveal herself at some point and he had to be ready.  Tharl kept glancing around when he had a moment.  Towards the ramp or the stairwell.  Kane was supposed to believe even he didn't know where his partner would show up from.

"So, these two tobacco planters are walking around Jamestown," he said.

"Heard it," the Viking said. 

"I'm not telling it to you," Kane replied.  He switched the weapon end for end and started attacking southpaw.  Tharl smoothly switched weapons.  The axe and longknife stayed in the same hands, but he led with the knife and parried with the axe. 

"There's no one else here," Tharl laughed.

That's when they both felt he fourth aura explode in the vicinity.  And both heard the scream in the stairwell.

Kane recovered first and knocked the knife to the floor.  Tharl was in a hurry, now, wanting to help Hjalmer.  He took the axe in both hands and tried to go berserk.

The Ancient smiled and stepped towards the ramp.  Tharl would have to turn his back to run to Hjalmer's aid.

---------

Eve could see vertebrae.  Her small sword wasn't going to cut all the way through, but she could keep the wound from closing until Kane arrived.

Amazingly, the Viking kept moving.  Air bubbled through the open trachea, and blood spurted left and right.  Somehow, the brain was absorbing enough of the spatter to keep operating, if only at a low, desperate level.  She tried to hack at the carotid, maybe she could aim the spray away from the upper neck, the head?

She had the barest moment to hear metal on cement, a scrape, a gamble on Hjalmer's part.

He hoisted his sword and brought it down over Eve's head.

Decades of reflexes made her bring her sword up to block, even as her brain calmly pointed out that she was trying to stop an avalanche with a shovel.

---------

"After all that screaming, there hasn't been any lightning," Tharl said.  He smiled.  "Guess your ambush didn't work as well as you thought it might?"

"It's a slow ambush," Kane replied.  "Gonna take a while for the hamsters to gnaw through his neck."

"Or was it a fake?" Tharl wondered.  "You found some way to make a radio transmitter feel like the Quickening.  Set it off just at the right moment.

"Hjamler fell, cracked his skull...  But he's healing right now, huh?"

"Huh," Kane said.  "Go find out."

"I will," Tharl said.  Then he started to foam at the mouth.  Kane smiled.  He loved fighting berserkers.  Mindless slaughter fixated on his throat? 

It was like skiing down a mountain right in front of an avalanche.  One misstep and it was all over.

He only hoped the man still remembered HOW to berserk.

---------

At the last second, Eve turned her weapon and threw herself against her opponent's jaw.  Rather than stop the blade, she guided it, moving it just far enough to miss her...and the Viking crushed his weapon into his own spine.

She slit quickly through the last little strips of meat.  Lights appeared in the air.  Then in the wound.  Then sparks shot into the air gap between head and shoulders.

Snakes of electricity squirmed across the floor.

---------

The door to the stairwell burst open and ball lightning sailed out to strike the rental.  Both men paused for a second.  Just knowing who'd won in there would alter their fight.

The scream that sounded through the Quickening was high, so high pitched. 

"Eve!" Kane laughed. 

"NO!" Tharl thundered.  And turned....  Kane spun on his toes and snicked the man's head off in a practiced weep of his blade.

Lights appeared in the air.

Lightning burst out of the two bodies.

Eve was lifted off the floor in a glowing blue nimbus.  Images flashed through her mind as the Immortal's power flowed up and into her.  Her limbs jerked and her hair hurt.

The door to the garage crashed open and she saw Kane.  He stood over his foe's body in a similar pose.  But his feet were on the ground.

The lightning crackled and spat up into his body. 

She'd never shared a Quickening before.  The power released by an Immortal sought out the nearest Immortal to enter.  Usually, that was the victor of the duel.  It's the main reason fights were one-on-one.

But with two kills in proximity, the power of either loser streamed into both survivors.  A bridge of light connected the four bodies, power coming out, mingling and going in.

Eve saw flashes from the other Viking.  Rape, ruin, real estate and rococo.   And she caught flashes of herself.  From Kane's point of view.

Kane has shared kills over the centuries.  Usually by accident or surprise.  He hadn't expected to be able to control it.  He found he had an input on how much of the released power he could take. 

And on an instant's whim, decided to throw the bulk of it towards Eve.

Car horns sounded in the garage. Oil leaked from engines, radiators burst.  Kane thought he heard a tire burst.  He knew a battery discharged somewhere.

Then the power subsided, the glow faded.  He fell to the floor on hands and knees.  As soon as he could stand, he walked over to where Eve knelt.

She looked much the worse for wear. Her clothes were torn and her hair disheveled.

But he noted that she still held her sword.  And she looked up at him and smiled.  "So," she said, "he runs into the church, staggers up to the pulpit, and tells the congregation, 'All I said was, put that in your pipe and smoke it!'"

"Aw," he said.  "You heard it."  He knelt to pick her up.  "Are you...bigger than you were?"

----------

Professor D'Erlon paused to examine his notes, then continued.  "Now, when you're observing an Immortal, you want to make the surveillance casual and distant.  Too steady, he or she will notice your presence.

"Too close and they'll catch you."

"What is too close, Professor?" a student asked. 

"If you know that he's not circumcised," the American laughed.  Half the class laughed with her.  D'Erlon fumed.  The American did not take the course content seriously. 

And why not?  She had not taken the oath.  She could pick and choose the material she wanted to learn, as her eventual position in the field was not dependent on her performance.

She also refused to learn even the most basic French, forcing him to teach in English.  Sure, he was more than competent in the language, but a lot of the historical subtleties were lost.

"Too close, Jon," he said, "is when the Watcher tries to enter the Immortal's presence.  Perhaps to glimpse his calendar?  To see his appointments and better track his movements?

"Perhaps one is motivated to touch history in the Immortal's possessions.  Or to find where the body is waiting before it can be safely disposed of.

"It does not matter.  Do not enter the circle of the Immortal.  Remember, you are not ninjas."

"What if they are?" another student asked.

D'Erlon laughed.  "No one is, Damon.  They are fictional inventions.  The Immortals are just very sneaky and very experienced with moving around people.  They can be quite unnoticeable when they desire."

"Unless they enjoy showing off," Destiny said with a laugh.  A few other students laughed at her quip, but most waited to see if there was a punchline.

D'Erlon ignored her and projected the obituary of a rather forward Watcher.  "Now, Field Agent Strombowski was caught in an Immortal's castle.  We don't know why she was there, or how she was caught.  It is enough for  us to know she broke the rules."

The class was getting restless.  He heard shifting and fidgeting.  It usually meant someone was trying to be funny.  He turned and swept his glare across all fourteen faces.

Facing the board again, he pointed out the more noteworthy portions of the obituary.  "Notice that the police are reporting no leads as to the killer, or even as to the location of her head."

Wait.

There were only thirteen students this year.  He was sure because that was an unlucky number.  But there were fourteen chairs and every one was filled.

He turned slowly, eyes drawn to the back, to the empty chair beside The American.

Where someone sat very comfortably.  How he'd gotten in without D'Erlon noticing, he'd never know.

But as soon as the former Field Agent saw the man's eyes, he knew what he was.  And sitting so close to Destiny, he suspected who.

"Oh, go on," Kane said.  "This is ever so fascinating."

---------

"You were so naughty!" Destiny said.  "I thought he was going to faint!"

"Well, I was in Paris, so I thought I'd see you."  He looked around the grounds of the Archives, taking in the Watchers scurrying back and forth on errands and tasks.

She took his arm and walked along with him.  "How did you know where to find me?" 

"Next time you're in the schoolhouse, find the portraits of previous classes.  I'm a Watcher, class of '83."

"You were here when I was playing with Barbies?" she gasped.

"Eighteen eighty three," he said.  They turned to a side path and walked towards the river.

"So...  How are things?" she asked.

"Oh, you know.  Find the Immortal, kill the Immortal, ransack his warehouse for art, then find a friend to tell about it."  He raised an eyebrow at her.

"What..  Which Immortal?" she asked.

"Hjalmer and Tharl," he said easily.  He glanced over to see her practicing the pronunciation.  "Oh, don't worry about reporting it."  He waved at the buildings around them.  "Someone's got a directional mike on us."

"He's guessing," Senior Archivist Peabody growled.  The faces around the table glanced from the speaker to him and back. 

"Doubt it," Archivist Tate said. He entered holding a picture frame hurriedly ripped off a wall.  Plaster fell from the nail still caught in the wire.  "He was the Class Leader."

"And did you have any ...help?" Destiny asked.

"Only my shortsword," he said.

"How is she?"

"She's currently an eighteen inch shortsword," he said pleasantly.

"Oooh, that's gotta be a happy sword," she said cheerfully.  "Once you make a decent scabbard for it."

"Well, it's a code, obviously," Linguist Donzelot said a week later.  "But I can't for the life of me figure out what it's a code FOR!"

"There was no shortsword at the scene," Albany, the police liaison, commented.  "And forensics said they were killed with a large-bladed pole weapon-"

"That fucking kwang," Duprees muttered, pronouncing it kay-wang in his Texan accent.

"And a pocket knife."

"Why would he put down a kaywa-  his KWANG to use a pocket knife?" someone asked. They all shrugged.

"If they're talking in code," Peabody asked, "can we trust her reports?"

"She isn't going to reveal everything," D'Erlon said.  "We knew that before she got here.  Let her keep her secrets. His secrets.

"He likes to show off.  He won't be able to resist giving us facts.  And daring us to uncover his secrets."

The others nodded.  Wayne had received flight plans and three assistants already.

--------------

"How can someone who bitches so much about modern technology fly an airplane?" Destiny asked. 

Kane shrugged.  "I just ignore all the newfangled stuff."  He covered his eyes and peered out the front window.  "Does that look like Greenland to you?"

"Should it?  Is Greenland between Paris and Boston?"  She looked around the cockpit to see if there was a map visible. 

"We're fine," Eve said as she came up.  She handed a bottle of water to the pilot the tapped Destiny's leg for a lift up.  "I want an axe."

"Ick," Destiny said.

"Well, I need something to separate the vertebrae.  I can't always talk them into suicide."

"We'll have to work out everything that's changed," Kane said.

"I'm four inches bigger," Eve said.  "Figure the percentage increase, then increase my weapons by that much."  She looked up at Destiny.  "He's shaking his head.  Why is he shaking his head?"

"It's not just size.  Like I keep trying to tell you, physics rules your life.  Your body mass and musculature dictates your fighting style and abilities.  You can't jump as high as you did last week, but you are measurably stronger."

"Take over the driving, Des," Eve said.  "He's gotten pedantic."  She drew her sword and adopted a fighting stance.  "Have at thee, foul pedanterist!"

His hands twitched on the stick and she fell backwards into Destiny's lap.  "Foul!"

"You said that," Des told her.

"I meant he was impure and unseemly.  NOW he's cheating!"  She wrestled her way through the taller woman's legs and dropped to the floor, weapon pointed at her partner.

"You want me to turn this plane around, young lady?" he growled.