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Puppet Strings - Chapter 22
By Kudara
Disclaimer:
All the characters appearing in Gargoyles are copyright Buena
Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. No infringement of
these copyrights is intended as this is a not for profit fan
fiction work. All original characters are the property of the
author.
Warning: minor squick
warning.
Rating: Teen
Feedback: Always welcome, feedback is what encourages me to keep
writing. Please let me know what you like and what you dislike
about the story.
Revision History: 04/25/08
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Dominique awoke reluctantly; a whispered,
“I’ll shower and then get breakfast ready for us,” and the warm
press of lips upon hers informed her what had disturbed her
sleep. The redhead smiled and opened her eyes, looked up toward
the opening of the tent in time to see Kendra zipping it closed
again behind her. It was very bright inside the tent,
indicating that the sun had risen some time ago and she wondered
just how late they had slept in today.
Of course, they hadn’t gotten to sleep
until very late indeed, the redhead thought with a smirk as she
arched her back and raised her arms above her head in a long
luxurious stretch. Once she was done, she relaxed once again
her arms above her head in the cool winter air, and the rest of
her body cocooned in the warmth of the sleeping bag. For a long
moment she simply breathed in and out quietly, enjoying the fact
that she was alive on this fine morning. She could hear the
wind moving through the pine boughs and the sound of a few birds
chirping and singing; she could also hear the sound of a propane
heater and water from where Kendra was showering.
A shiver and a tingle ran through
Dominique’s body as she remembered the night and the hours of
lovemaking they had indulged in, by the end of the night Kendra
had indeed found every sensitive place upon her body. They had
been so exhausted by the time they stopped that Demona had
transformed into her human form before falling asleep to make
sure that she didn’t accidentally trap her lover if she failed
to wake up and went into stone sleep. She sighed and tucked her
arms, which were getting chilled, back into the sleeping bag
debating on whether or not to just go back to sleep until Kendra
woke her for breakfast. Her stomach chose that moment to rumble
demandingly at her, informing her in no uncertain terms that it
had been entirely too long since she had last eaten. She
groaned protesting, not really feeling like getting up, but if
she wanted breakfast sooner she knew she needed to get up and
help Kendra prepare it.
Two hours and some minutes later they had
both showered, eaten, cleaned up the dishes from breakfast,
stopped by the pine tree to see how its injuries were healing,
and were now sitting idly by the fire. Dominique shifted
restlessly; she wasn’t used to having nothing to occupy her
time. They couldn’t go gliding there was too much of a chance
that a rescue plane might fly over and see them in the air, and
the concealment of night would not come for five more hours.
She glanced over at Kendra; the black-haired woman was sitting
in a patch of sunlight her eyes closed and a peaceful, almost
meditative look upon her face. The redhead smirked, at the
moment her lover’s jaguarness was definitely apparent.
She glanced at the forest around them
searching for something to occupy her time. If she only knew
more about trees and plants she thought wistfully, looking at
the variety of evergreens around her. Not all of the trees were
pines, Dominique knew enough about them to identify spruces,
junipers and the odd cedar among the trees she could see from
where she was sitting. Unfortunately, except for what the Irish
Elk had told her about how trees healed, recognizing the
different species was about the extent of her knowledge. Being
able to see life energy did not magically give her any
understanding of what she was seeing, so watching the life
energy in the trees was quickly becoming rather frustrating
because of her lack of knowledge.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t picked up a basic
understanding of biology, chemistry and physics, because she
had, if only so that she understood what her researchers were
writing in their weekly progress reports. This type of specific
knowledge though, she had never had a need to learn before now.
At least that was one useful side effect of the human’s need to
name and understand things, Dominique thought. Their species
had made much progress in understanding how the world around
them worked; all she needed was have access to all that
knowledge to get a better understanding of what she was seeing.
Unfortunately for her current boredom, however, none of it was
available to her right now.
With one last annoyed look at the forest
for not providing her any distractions, she glanced back over at
her lover and thought about their return to New York in three
days. She smirked, she would bet on the fact that the clan
would be amazed to see them both return. Doubtless they had
assumed that she would either kill Kendra or leave her behind to
fend for herself, and they couldn’t be further from the truth.
The smirk disappeared and a regretful look replaced it as she
thought about one particular member of the clan whose opinion
was more important to her than the rest. Her deception with the
Assassin probably meant that the clan was now unanimous in their
opinions of her. She gazed at her lover’s peaceful face,
perhaps when they both returned Angela would be curious enough
to keep find out what her mother was doing, see the changes she
was making in her life.
Thoughts of the clan brought up thoughts of
their and the Detectives inevitable attempt to contact Kendra
and what they might tell her about the past. Dominique grimaced
ruefully; it was truly pitiful that she was so bored that she
would consider a discussion with Kendra about her mistakes with
the clan to be an acceptable distraction. She had told Kendra
almost everything she thought the clan would bring up in an
effort to drive the black-haired woman away from her, but there
was one incident she hadn’t mentioned that one clan member might
bring up. She hated interrupted Kendra’s doze, but this lack of
anything to do was driving her crazy. She cleared her throat,
her lover’s sapphire blue eyes opened and focused upon her.
Dominique said, “Since we have nothing to
do for the next five hours but fix dinner, I thought now might
be a good time to tell you why Brooklyn of all the clan members
hates me the most, and is least likely to forgive me for my past
actions,” she noticed she had Kendra’s complete attention. “I
don’t know that he will bring up how I betrayed the trust that
had been between us, but he might.” She paused, her thoughts
going to the distant past.
“Who is Brooklyn? I’ve heard the name
before, but I don’t know which one that is,” asked Kendra
remembering the one detective mentioning that the gargoyle
blamed Demona for everything that went wrong.
The redhead looked over at her, surprised;
she hadn’t realized that she hadn’t described the clan to the
black-haired woman. “Have you seen any of them?” she asked
hoping that Kendra had, it would make it so much easier.
Kendra responded, “I’ve seen pictures of
them as they left the police station clock tower after my stupid
cousins attacked it.” She shook her head bringing her thoughts
back to Dominique’s question, “One picture had a large light
lavender male who I suspect is Goliath,” she paused as the
redhead nodded.
“Goliath is light lavender and the largest
of all the males,” Dominique confirmed.
“Behind him was a lavender female who I’m
sure is your daughter Angela,” Kendra continued, barely pausing
to acknowledge the redheads confirming nod before continuing,
“then were was another picture of a white-haired red colored
male with a beak…”
“That’s Brooklyn,” interrupted Dominique.
The black-haired woman nodded thoughtfully,
setting his appearance in her mind, “he was carrying a smaller
greenish colored male in his arms,” she continued.
Dominique said, “Lexington, and from what
I’ve heard he’s adapted very well to this time. He has an
unusual gift with understanding modern machinery and likes
computers.”
“Interesting,” said Kendra, thinking of how
bizarre the gargoyles must have found modern life after being
asleep for nine hundred years, the world was so different now
compared to what they had known. She brought her thoughts back
to the one remaining picture her cousin Jon had sent her, “The
last picture was of two gargoyles, one of which was carrying
what looked more like a gargoyle dog than anything else and had
no wings.”
“Broadway, Hudson and Bronx,” said the
redhead, “Broadway is aqua colored and overweight, Hudson is the
former clan leader and Bronx is a gargbeast. That’s the entire
clan that’s left from Wyvern except for the young gargoyles on
Avalon,” she said sadly.
She shook herself, forcing her mind off
that guilt-ridden thought and onto the original subject of their
conversation. “To understand why Brooklyn felt so betrayed by
what I did I need to tell you about the relationship he and I
had at Castle Wyvern while he was growing from a young hatchling
into one of the best warriors of his rookery hatching. Neither
he nor I had names then, but I saw in the red beaked young male
so much of myself. He had a temper to match mine, he was
impetuous and impassioned, and even as young as he was he had
the makings of a fine warrior.”
“So you decided to mentor him,” Kendra
guessed.
Dominique nodded, “I taught him how to
fight on the ground and in the air. How to dodge the arrows we
would often face from the castle’s attackers. Whenever he had a
question I was the elder he brought it to, when he and the other
two young males he was always with practiced I watched and
corrected any mistakes. Whenever he did something right it was
my approval he looked for first even before Goliath’s.”
The redhead’s lips narrowed in anger at
herself as she remembered what she had thrown away, “From the
time he left the rookery until the Magus cast his spell on him I
was the elder that he sought out the most frequently and I was
the one that he trusted the most after Goliath. So when I
learned of a spell in the Grimorum Arcanaum that I could use to
control Goliath’s mind, I knew immediately whom I could use to
bring my former mate to me. I knew that Brooklyn would still
listen to me despite the fact that I had attacked the clan a few
days earlier.”
Kendra wanted to ask about the earlier
attack, but she didn’t want to sidetrack Dominique so she filed
the information away for later and simply listened.
“I watched the trio for several nights in a
row while they worked on putting together a motorbike in one of
Xanatos’s garages. Or rather I should say Lexington did, that’s
how I learned about his gift. It’s almost magical how he’s able
to understand how machines work without any training and only
minimal access to manuals.” Demona still remembered staring at
the trio in astonishment as she watched the young web winged
male who she knew had never seen modern machines until a week
ago, make a working motorbike from one wrecked one they had
found and spare parts.
I followed him as he went on his first
motorbike ride, and when he found a motorbike gang and
approached them, I waited, suspecting they would attack him as
soon as they realized he wasn’t another human. When they did I
helped him fight them off, it was enough for me to persuade him
to listen to me. I took him around the city and pointed out the
worst human actions I could find as evidence of why Goliath’s
dream of humans accepting us was not possible.” She gave Kendra
an apologetic look.
“It’s alright,” Kendra reassured her, “New
York City has enough crime to jade even the most optimistic
optimist. I imagine it wasn’t hard for you to shock him, though
one would think he had seen humans killing and mistreating each
other before. I would think humanity really hasn’t changed that
much in a thousand years.”
“True,” Dominique acknowledged, “but he was
still reeling from all the changes in the world since he had
been turned into stone by the Magus. He had been resentful of
the humans at Castle Wyvern and doubtful that they would ever
change their ways and come to accept us as Goliath hoped, so I
knew it would be easy to persuade him that these new humans
weren’t any different. I told him there was a spell in the
Grimorum I could use to make Goliath listen to me and had him
steal the book from Xanatos’s collection and bring it to me.”
She went on to describe how Brooklyn had
brought Goliath to her at the Cloisters, how once the spell had
been cast and Goliath was turned into a mindless slave that
Brooklyn had fought with her. He managed to take back the
Grimorum, but not before Demona ripped the counter spell from
the Grimorum and destroyed it. With the book in his possession,
Brooklyn controlled Goliath’s actions and he had ordered his
clan leader back to the Castle. There Elisa Maza had the idea
to command Goliath to act as if he were not under the spell’s
control breaking its hold on him.
“The Weird Sisters strike again,” said
Kendra noted bitterly after the redhead had stopped speaking.
“In one fell swoop you knocked yourself off the pedestal
Brooklyn had you upon, abused his trust of you and used him
against his clan leader, guaranteeing that he wouldn’t trust you
or want anything to do with you anytime soon.”
Dominique stared at her, she hadn’t thought
about her actions in light of what she had learned so recently.
“I hadn’t considered it,” she admitted, beginning to feel the
stinging pain of yet another loss the three Fey had caused her.
“Oh come on,” Kendra protested thinking the
look on Dominique’s face meant that the redhead didn’t believe
her, “Brooklyn immediately realized what you had done to
Goliath, so unless the other gargoyles are really dense they
would have noticed the same thing as soon as they saw him. I
don’t think your actual objective in doing that was getting
control of the clan because you had to have known that it had
zero chance of succeeding.” Dominique was still looking stunned
so Kendra continued, “If however you were driving Brooklyn away
from you then it succeeded admirably,” she finished softly.
The redhead drew in a shuddering breath and
it occurred belatedly to the black-haired woman that what she
had seen on Dominique’s face hadn’t been stunned disbelief but
stunned pain. “Oh hell,” Kendra cursed herself, “I’m sorry
Demona, I should have found a better way to say that I didn’t
mean to hurt you,” she said regretfully. She got up and went
over to the lost looking woman, hesitantly placing a hand on the
redhead’s shoulder.
Dominique looked up at her, waved a
dismissive hand, “It’s alright I just haven’t thought about that
night in a long time, and not since I found out about that
enchantment. I guess it’s just something else that I have to
add to the list of injuries those three have caused me over the
centuries.”
Kendra sat down next to Dominique and
wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “Surely there must have
been some bright spots in the last thousand years?” she asked
hesitantly hoping that that was indeed the case because she
wanted to distract the redhead from dwelling on the incident
with Brooklyn.
The redhead looked thoughtful, after three
solid days of such revelations she was only too eager to find a
distraction from this last one, “Well there was a human in the
early 1500’s that I called a friend, Michel de Nostradame.”
When Kendra looked startled she grinned, “Yes, Nostradamus, he
had a foreseeing of Xanatos would raising the castle above the
clouds and break the enchantment on the clan. That’s how I knew
to come here and look for Xanatos in 1993.”
“You knew Nostradamus,” Kendra questioned
disbelievingly.
Dominique chuckled enjoying the awed look
in Kendra’s eyes, “I think I just said that didn’t I?” she
teased. She began telling the tale of the human who had found
her sick with the Black Plague and had nursed her back to health
in his own home, and of how that meeting had turned into a
friendship that lasted until his death.
Later that night they were gliding back to
the camp, Kendra’s new claws had performed very well, slicing
into the limestone of the cliff with much less effort than the
night before. They had practiced taking off from the cliff and
then gliding around in a circle to land once again near it
before climbing back up and repeating the process. With each
landing, Kendra improved her technique until Demona announced
herself satisfied, though the look in her eye promised several
more training sessions.
“I never thought I’d get tired of eating
one type of meat,” Demona commented staring down at the pan
cooked caribou steak on her plate. “Right now though I’d really
like some chicken or fish,” she said wistfully, “I’ve gotten
spoiled by modern grocery stores.”
Kendra chuckled, “I can’t say that I’m
tired of it, but I wouldn’t turn down some cow or pork about
now. Luckily we only have tomorrow to make it through and then
the next night we will be at Rachael’s.” She stifled a yawn,
“By the way how long do you think tonight will take?”
Demona shrugged, “I don’t know. I’m not
certain what all the Ancient One has planned for us to do
tonight.” Looking at the tired countenance of her lover, she
hoped it wouldn’t be that late, Kendra wasn’t the only one
feeling fatigued tonight. “Are you coming to the spirit realm
tonight?” she asked.
The black-haired woman nodded, “Just for a
little while to see if Rachael or Wayne shows up,” she grinned,
“otherwise I’ll just make sure you stay warm while you’re
working.”
The flame-haired gargoyle smiled in reply,
“I just don’t want to think of you being bored,” her voice
trailed off and she looked uncomfortable, reminded of just why
Kendra wasn’t accompanying her tonight.
“It’s alright,” Kendra assured her gently,
“I understand.”
The gargoyle looked at her searchingly,
seeing reassurance in her lover’s blue eyes she nodded.
Only the Ancient One was waiting for them
when they entered the spirit realm, “Ancient One,” Demona
greeted the great stag. She looked over at her lover, her
thoughts racing, she didn’t really want to do this alone, but
she didn’t want Kendra to see how she had acted that night.
“My chosen,” he returned her greeting.
“Ancient One,” Kendra greeted him as well.
“I guess nothing significant has happened that we need to know
about,” she commented.
“Indeed,” commented the great stag calmly,
“Will you be accompanying us young jaguar?”
Kendra shook her head, “No not tonight,”
she answered.
“Wait,” Demona blurted.
Confused blue eyes turned her way, “What?”
Kendra asked, crease forming between her brows as she frowned.
The gargoyle turned toward the Irish Elk
spirit, “Were the weird sisters present when I was killing the
humans?” she asked her eyes sliding uneasily away from his great
brown ones in her shame.
“They were not chosen,” he replied calmly.
Demona breathed in a sigh of relief; she
turned to Kendra, “Would you like to go with us?”
The frown on Kendra’s face smoothed as she
realized why Demona had asked the Ancient One that question, “Of
course, maybe together we can make some sense of their actions.”
That is something to be desired,” commented
the Irish Elk in a dry tone that had both of them glancing with
questioning looks at the spirit. “These particular Fey delight
in obscuring their motives with cryptic utterances at any time,”
the land around them changed and they were standing inside a
room, a large vault door stood wide open along one wall.
Goliath stood motionless next to three men tied up inside what
looked like money transfer bags and a woman with short dark hair
that was kneeling and looking up at the stern looking gargoyle
with fear. The spirit continued, “During these events they were
more cryptic and obscure than usual.”
Kendra looked around at the frozen people
in fascination for a moment before she turned back to the
spirit, “So your saying trying to figure this out is giving you
a headache?” she said with a slight smile.
Great stag turned his head and regarded her
for a moment, his ears flipped back and forth once before he
responded, “if such a thing were possible for me I would
undoubtedly have one.”
Demona, who had been paying the familiar
looking three girls standing along the wall more attention that
the stag spirit and her lover, looked over at this comment and
smiled at their bantering. She turned her attention to the
window and looked out at the multitude of police cars outside
the building, their motionless lights casting a red glare over
everything. “A hostage situation?” she asked, returning her
attention to the room.
“Correct, chosen,” said the Irish Elk.
Suddenly the scene around them came to
life, “We will go now. The police can deal with them,”
announced Goliath turning and leaving the four humans.
Kendra watched the gargoyles with interest,
able to identify now the four males as Goliath, Brooklyn,
Broadway and Lexington. Seeing them in real life, as it were,
instead of two-dimensional pictures was much different. She had
a better sense of their size and evident strength. It helped
her understand why so many people seemed to be afraid of them,
she glanced over at the smaller green male, well at least most
of them, she corrected herself.
“The cause is everything until her own life
is threatened,” the dark haired girl in what looked almost like
a school uniform came forward and said to Goliath as he passed
the three. “Still it’s good that you saved her.”
“If you forgot what she’s forgotten, that
every life is precious. Then you’ll be no different from her,”
said the blonde one.
Demona choked, her eyes flashed red in
anger as she stared at the three unable to believe that they had
the gall to say such things after everything they had done to
Macbeth and her. The gargoyle was so angry that she almost
missed Goliath’s answer. “I’ll never be like this terrorist,”
he said indignantly.
“We were not talking about this terrorist,”
the white haired one corrected him. Demona scowled at them,
though she could not disagree with the title they had just given
her considering what she had done later this night.
Goliath turned around to stare at the now
cowed looking woman next to the three bound men. The Weird
Sisters took the opportunity to disappear so that when he turned
back the looked around in vain for them asking where they had
went.
The scene froze with the four gargoyles
trying to figure out what they had seen and the two human
hostages in the room telling them there had never been any
children there. Demona even recognized the two humans, Brendan
and Margot Yale, she shook her head, the Assistant District
Attorney had a definite gift for running into the clan
considering how big the city was and how many humans were in it.
“Considering their own actions it’s more
than slightly ironic to hear such sentiments from these three,”
noted Kendra dryly. “What are they playing at? They have
absolutely no respect for mortal lives so this has some purpose
behind it that serves their own selfish interests.”
Demona had no idea herself, her memories of
the time in between her fight with the clan and Macbeth and the
restored memories the stag had given her were chaotic. She
remembered what the Weird Sisters had said to her to get her to
reveal the new password and her anger at being tricked, then
nothing until her memories from the time she was controlled by
the three Fey began.
The Ancient one shook his great antlered
head, “I am not certain besides the fact that such sentiments
caused Goliath to prevent Macbeth from taking his and Demona’s
life while she was unconscious.”
The gargoyle’s green eyes widened, she had
no idea that Macbeth had come so close to getting his wish that
day.
Kendra said thoughtfully, “I don’t usually
advocate reading the end of the book first, but in this case I
think it might help us understand what’s going on better.”
The scene around them changed as soon as
she finished speaking, they were standing beside a large indoor
pool in the center of a carefully landscaped garden. A wide
walkway was suspended along the sides of the atrium like area;
one part of the walkway went through the center of the area,
suspended above the large pool in the center. The walls of the
building on this level were solid glass with large pylons along
the outside to support the weight of this floor. They stood on
the center span of the walkway, stairs leading down on either
side to the center section that crossed over the pool. The
center section was covered with concrete debris, the figures of
Demona and Macbeth lying among them.
“Macbeth threw down a grenade that melted
the floor,” said Demona pointing to the ceiling far above them.
“I remember falling through the air, Macbeth was holding onto me
preventing me from being able to glide.”
Macbeth rose first, he looked down upon the
unconscious gargoyle and an expression of rage crossed his
face. He picked Demona up in his arms; her wings hung limply,
dragging along the ground as he walked over toward one piece of
debris that had broken off pipes sticking up from it.
A low threatening growl, drew Demona’s
attention from the scene to her lover, Kendra was glaring at the
scene her blue eyes narrowed. The gargoyle placed one hand on
her forearm; the black-haired woman’s head swung her way, the
blue eyes instantly softened and the growl stopped. “I’m right
here, not there,” Demona reminded her gently. Kendra nodded
once and turned her attention back to the scene below. The
gargoyle stared at her strong profile for a second, taking in
the straight nose and strong jaw and chin, her lips curved in a
small smile, warmed by the protectiveness her lover displayed
for her.
Her turned her eyes away from her lover,
intending to watch the scene below, but the Ancient One, who was
regarding them with keen interest, caught her attention. His
gaze was upon her taloned hand resting so comfortably on
Kendra’s arm and she could almost hear the thoughts in his mind,
not your young jaguar indeed.
No!” shouted Goliath drawing her attention
firmly to what was happening below them, “Killing her won’t
solve anything.”
Demona blanched to see herself helpless and
unconscious in Macbeth’s arms her body suspended above the sharp
end of a broken pipe. How close her old ally had come, all
Macbeth had to do was release her body and they would have both
died.
“Death never does,” finished Goliath.
Macbeth hesitated at the lavender males
words looking uncertain, and then the three Weird Sisters
appeared. They were adults now and looked completely modern in
their three-inch heels, purple hose, very short skirts and
midriff baring jackets. “He’s right Macbeth, Duncan was afraid
that your father would make you king,” said one of them.
Luna continued, “Did your father’s death
stop you from becoming king?”
Macbeth turned toward them, “No,” he
answered angrily.
“You wanted revenge for your father. Did
Gillecomigan’s death settle that score?” asked Selene.
“No,” Macbeth answered his tone not angry
this time but resigned.
“Did your own death save your son Luach
from Canmore,” asked the blonde sister.
“No,” whispered Macbeth looking defeated.
“Death is never the answer,” Goliath said
to him his hands raised in supplication, “Life is.”
Demona snorted and shook her head, there
her former mate was playing the part the sisters gave him
perfectly, not that she didn’t appreciate still being alive
right now instead of dying almost a year ago.
“I’m just so tired,” said Macbeth lowering
the unconscious Demona to the ground and backing away.
The Weird Sisters gathered around him,
“Then sleep Macbeth,” they said in unison. A second later
Macbeth slumped to the floor unconscious.
Kendra watched silently as the Sisters
manipulated Demona into giving Goliath the access code, alone.
Her eyes narrowed and a wave of rage and revulsion washed over
her as she saw the tears in Demona’s eyes as the gargoyle said
the access code. She had never hated anyone as she hated these
three callous Fey; if they ever came within range of her claws
they were dead.
Demona shook her head sadly as she watched
herself rage that she had been tricked, that none of what
occurred was her fault, it was the humans were responsible for
everything. Not that she had been entirely wrong then given
what the Magus had done, but a share of the blame for what had
happened at Castle Wyvern definitely rested upon her own
shoulders.
“You have learned nothing,” said Goliath
sadly.
The Demona below hissed at him, “Nothing
but your lies.” She flared her wings, “I will still have my
revenge!”
The Weird Sisters, once again appearing as
children, restrained the gargoyle who looked amazed that they
could hold her. “You are tired,” Luna bade her, “sleep.” The
Demona below wavered, closed her eyes and slumped to the
flagstones of the walkway near Macbeth’s slumbering body.
“What do we do with them?” Goliath asked
scratching the top of his head.
“We have written their stories. They are
our responsibility. They are our children,” said the Weird
Sisters as they took up points around Demona and Macbeth.
Demona snarled, “At least their
acknowledging their responsibility for what they did to us, but
Macbeth and I are not their children.”
The Ancient One let the scene play out as
he spoke, “No you are not, nor are you under their control any
longer chosen.” The scene froze right after the Weird Sisters
disappeared, taking Demona and Macbeth with them.
Kendra eyed the spot on the walkway where
everything had taken place, there were a few things about what
she had seen that were bothering her, “Ok so they set Goliath up
to help persuade Macbeth not to kill Demona, that’s easy to
see. What I don’t understand is why go through all that
effort? Since they had their hooks into both of them already
why didn’t they just take Macbeth and Demona whenever they
wanted without all this drama?” she waved a hand to indicate
everything around them.
“That is a source of puzzlement to me as
well young jaguar,” admitted the great stag spirit.
Demona looked over at her lover, startled
by her words. Kendra was right, why had the three Fey gone
through all this effort when they could have taken them at any
time. She stared at the walkway spanning the pool thoughtfully,
if she were evaluating the moves of a business rival she would
be asking herself what the rival had to gain by their actions.
“What did they have to gain by doing this?” she asked herself
aloud.
“Exactly,” responded Kendra, “They must
have gotten something out of it.”
The three of them stared at one another
silently, Demona sighed, “I guess that means none of us has an
idea what they had to gain. Maybe if we go back to the
beginning and watch their actions something will make sense?”
The stag spirit dipped his head and they
were standing upon the street, a siren wailed behind them, but
Demona’s attention was upon the three Fey who stood watching a
bank of televisions inside a store window. “Isn’t this exciting
Luna it begins again,” Phoebe said.
They began walking down the street,
“Concentrate sister or it ends here as well,” said Selene.
“Phoebe, Selene have patience, we have
waited 975 years, we can wait a little longer,” commented Luna.
The scene around them froze, Kendra
offered, “It begins again, I guess they mean that things are
happening again that will lead to them meeting up with the
Archmage? He did tell them it would be another 975 years last
time they spoke.”
Demona nodded, “That would be my guess as
well.”
“Those were my thoughts as well,” said the
Irish Elk. In the next moment they stood in the middle of a
street, it was nighttime and in the direction they were facing
they could see the silhouettes of two gargoyles approaching.
Demona drew in a sharp breath, her heart
actually seemed to skip a beat as she turned around in horror
and looked upon the shattered human forms. This was not
something she had wanted Kendra to see; at least the Demona of
this time was already gone.
Her attention drawn by the distressed
sound, Kendra looked over at her lover, she hadn’t thought it
possible for the gargoyle to pale, but Demona’s face looked pale
right now. She turned following the gargoyle’s gaze and saw
what had disturbed her so greatly, piles of rubble upon the
street and on either sidewalk. No there were some pieces of
people still standing she saw that had not been completely
destroyed, a set of legs, a woman without any arms. They must
have surely died when the spell that made them stone was broken,
Kendra thought. She heard two thumps behind her and turned back
around; the silhouettes had been Goliath and Brooklyn, the
thumps the sound of them landing upon the street.
The two gargoyles stared appalled at what
they saw. “It’s like the massacre at Castle Wyvern,” said
Brooklyn quietly.
“Has Demona learned nothing,” Goliath said
his voice full of anger and sorrow, “every life is precious,” he
said, repeating the words of the three Weird Sisters while
staring down at a pile of rubble that had once been a human.
His attention drawn by something in a toy store doorway he
walked over and crouched down. Kendra followed; he was looking
at three statues that she immediately recognized as the three
Weird Sisters still in the form of children. Oddly, they held
dolls in their arms.
“Demona, over here,” she said getting the
gargoyles attention and pointing out what Goliath was staring
at.
“One of these could be Elisa,” said
Brooklyn taking a handful of rubble.
“Never,” growled Goliath, turning to look
at him. The huge lavender gargoyle rose, anger clear upon his
face, “We will put an end to Demona’s evil, once and for all,”
he vowed.
“Yes she must be stopped,” Kendra turned to
look at the three statues whose eyes were open now showing a
strange blue light, “but remember your own words Goliath. Every
life is precious; take care not to become what you fight
against. Vengeance begets nothing but a vicious cycle of
further vengeance.”
Kendra turned away from the talking statues
to stare at the piles of rubble on the street; there was
something important here some connection that her mind wanted to
make. She heard the two gargoyles continue down the street, but
she ignored them, kneeling down and picking up a piece of rubble
and turning it over. It was a nose and mouth, she ran an
inquisitive finger over it and then it came to her, the
connection she had wanted to make. “It’s so easy isn’t it,” she
said meditatively, “no blood, no gore, no pleas, no begging, no
tears. The last man I chased down that night in Central Park he
fell and tried to scramble away on all fours. He cried out ‘no,
no, please don’t hurt me,’ but his pleas didn’t mean anything to
me, I killed him anyway.
“Kendra,” the gargoyles voice sounded torn,
and Kendra felt the weight of her hand upon her shoulder.
She continued, her voice remorseless, “When
I changed back I was covered in the blood of the four men who
had attacked me. I went over to the bushes and threw up until
there was nothing left inside me. It was bloody, it smelled,
and there was no way I would have reached into what was left of
one of them to pick a piece of them up.” She rose, turned
toward Demona and the great stag with the piece of stone face in
her outstretched hand. She looked into Demona’s green eyes and
held out the piece of stone, her face showing her reluctance the
gargoyle eventually accepted it. “If that were a piece of
flesh, actual lips and nose ripped bleeding from someone’s face
would you have taken it from me?” she asked calmly.
The gargoyles green eyes widened in shock,
the piece of stone fell from her taloned hand and shattered upon
the street.
Kendra nodded, “that’s what I thought,” she
said evenly.
Demona stared at Kendra still shocked by
the black-haired woman’s question; it took a few moments for her
to realize that the blue eyes didn’t hold condemnation but
compassion and understanding. She stared down at the small
pieces of rubble that had been the fragment of face Kendra had
handed to her, and then she looked up and down the street at the
piles of rubble.
“If they had been flesh, if they had been
able to plead for their lives would you have killed them?”
Kendra asked her, “You must have flown over these streets
nightly, why this night and not another?”
The flame haired gargoyle took in a shaky
breath as she looked down the street at what she had done that
night, “I don’t know,” she said quietly, “perhaps not. I was
thinking of the massacre at Wyvern, I wanted to do to the humans
what the Vikings had done to us.”
Kendra looked up and down the street; she
turned and began walking toward the rest of the piles of
rubble. Behind her she could hear the sounds of Demona’s talons
on the pavement and the Ancient One’s hooves as they followed
her. It didn’t take long to get to the end of the piles of
rubble, there was only about a block of them. Confused Kendra
looked down the side street at the untouched statues and then
she turned around and looked back at the single block of
destruction. She looked over at the gargoyle, a slight frown
upon her face, “Why did you stop?”
Of anything she could have asked that was
not a question Demona was expecting.
“I mean,” Kendra looked back down the
street, “You must have been dreaming of something like this for
quite awhile. Yet when you had the chance you,” she started
counting the piles along the street, “you only killed sixteen or
so people.”
Slowly the gargoyle turned up the street in
the direction she had been smashing the humans that night and
looked at the frozen forms of the two humans that had jarred her
out of her thoughts of vengeance.
Kendra followed the gargoyle’s gaze and her
eyes fell upon the statues of a mother and teenage daughter, the
mother was well dressed in a tailored suit, her long hair caught
back in a braid, the daughter had been caught smiling up at her
mother, her face innocent and carefree. Looking at the
daughter, her long hair caught back in a simple ponytail, Kendra
guessed immediately what must have happened, “She reminded you
of Angela,” she stated with certainty.
Demona nodded, pensively staring at the two
stone humans, “I decided to go and make sure Xanatos didn’t shut
off my transmission instead of smashing any more of the humans.”
Kendra glanced at the stone woman and her
daughter one last time before turning to the great stag, “Is
that the last of the Weird Sister’s appearances?” she asked him.
“No,” there is one other one, he
responded. Their location shifted to the inside of a building,
police in the blue uniforms were moving all around them.
“Someone tell me please what happened?” the voice drew Kendra’s
attention she looked over to see a man surrounded by three
female police officers. No, the Weird Sisters she realized
looking at them closer.
“Don’t worry sir, we’re here to help,”
Phoebe said.
Kendra shook her head, “What are they doing
here?” she asked.
“This is the 23rd Precinct
building, Maza’s precinct,” Demona realized looking around the
room.
“They were keeping tabs on her?” Kendra
questioned, sounding puzzled.
There was chaos around them; several people
were demanding that the police tell them what had happened
during the night. When Kendra turned around to look at the
three Fey, they had disappeared. “Was this the last time?” she
raised her voice to be heard over the din of noise inside the
station.
The Irish Elk dipped his head, “It is,” his
deep voice cut easily through the noise.
“Then can we go back to the first
sighting?” Kendra asked. She breathed a sigh of relief at the
quiet when they reappeared in the room with the four terrorists
and the three Fey posing as children.
“What are you thinking?” Demona asked,
intrigued, stepping up next to the black-haired woman as she
stared at the three motionless Fey.
“I’m wondering how they knew to be here.
How they knew they would need to make sure Goliath stopped
Macbeth from killing you. How they knew you would do something
that Goliath would get so angry about that he would be tempted
to not stop Macbeth,” Kendra responded.
Demona’s eyes widened slightly as she met
Kendra’s gaze, her gaze sharpened and she turned to look at the
three Fey with narrowed eyes. “Your right that does imply that
they had some knowledge of what I was going to do and that
Macbeth was going to play the Hunter this night. They didn’t
want their toys to kill each other before they had the chance to
use them on Avalon,” she finished bitterly.
Kendra turned to the Ancient One, “Did they
leave Avalon at any other time just prior to this? Or did they
have a means like the Archmage used in the pool to watch events
here?”
He dipped his great antlered head, “They
had the same means, and they did spend much of their time
watching the actions of Demona and Macbeth. Though they were
not on Avalon at this time as Oberon’s decree that all Fey were
banished from Avalon until he decided otherwise prevented them
from setting foot on that isle. It was only under the guise of
assisting the Archmage that they were able to bend that decree
for a short time.”
The black-haired woman nodded thoughtfully,
adding this piece of information to the ones she already had
about the Fey. “Do you know if they had anything to do with
Macbeth or Demona a few months or so before they showed up
here?”
“You are wondering if they had anything to
do with manipulating these events?” the Irish Elk spirit asked
shrewdly.
“It did occur to me,” Kendra admitted. She
turned toward Demona, “When did you find out about the spell
that you used this night?”
“A few months earlier,” the gargoyle
answered thoughtfully, “I found out about a spellbook being sold
at an estate auction in England and arranged for a buyer to
obtain it for me. I wasn’t certain the book would be useful,
but I’ve made a habit of obtaining such things over the
centuries.”
Kendra turned back toward the Ancient One,
“did you hear or see them having anything to do with arranging
for Demona to find that spellbook?”
The great stag lifted his head, his gaze
unfocused as he thought, “Perhaps, they did scry for several
spell books just before these events began.” Before Demona or
Kendra could pounce on that he continued, “However I cannot say
for certain that the books they scryed had anything to do with
the one my chosen found. I do not recall them discussing
anything that would cause me to suspect they were involved in
its finding.”
Demona snarled softly, “We have more
questions than answers, and I can make no sense of their actions
with the knowledge we currently have. Kendra’s raised an
excellent question, why didn’t they just take Macbeth and I,
their waiting for all of this to play out makes no sense,” the
gargoyle said turning to the great stag.
Kendra stared at the forms of the three Fey
in irritation, Demona was right they didn’t have enough
knowledge to answer the questions that had been raised by the
Weird Sister’s actions and statements. “Well there is one
thing,” she commented amused as she turned toward them, “I now
have a headache for the Ancient One since he’s unable to have
his own.”
The Irish Elk snorted and his ears twitched
briefly, “That was not the purpose of this night.”
Kendra sighed, “Nevertheless that seems to
be all we have accomplished.”
The scene around them faded into the
familiar landscape of the spirit realm, the great stag turned
toward Demona, “I do not understand why they did not enchant you
and Macbeth earlier,” he responded to her earlier statement.
“That question had occurred to me previously as well, as had the
question of how they knew what was to take place upon that night
and how to guard against Macbeth taking both your lives.”
“So we accomplished nothing,” complained
Demona, caping her wings round herself.
The great stag turned to look at her, “I
would not agree my chosen. Several things have been
accomplished this night. For one you now have knowledge of
their actions and events that you did not before.” He left
unsaid that there might be other things the gargoyle had learned
tonight.
Demona met his calm gaze, and thought of
Kendra’s jarringly blunt statements. Her lover had been right;
she would have had a much harder time killing the humans if they
had been flesh instead of stone, if they had bled instead of
shattered, cried in anguish instead of remaining silent. As it
was, her vengeance had proven to be hollower than she had
anticipated. The sight of the rubble left by her mace had
reminded her of the Wyvern massacre in more than one way, and by
the time she had spotted the stone human that reminded her of
her daughter she had been fighting to not see the stone remains
of her brothers and sisters in each pile she left. That had
been one of the reasons for her mocking the humans as she killed
them, to remind herself that she was supposed to be enjoying
what she was doing, that she had been dreaming of this revenge
for centuries. Trying to distract herself from the fact that
every pile of rubble only reminded her of every gargoyle she had
seen killed this way throughout the centuries. “You are correct
Ancient One,” she finally replied.
Kendra watched Demona’s changing
expressions closely, wondering just what was going through the
gargoyle’s mind. When sadness and regret overshadowed the fine,
regal face of her lover and she told the spirit he was correct,
Kendra walked over to the gargoyle and gently pulled her into a
hug. Demona leaned into Kendra and rested her head against the
black-haired woman’s.
The Ancient One observed them for a few
moments before saying, “tomorrow we will continue our lessons in
life and nature magic.”
Demona lifted her head, “we are done for
tonight?” she asked.
“We are chosen,” the Ancient One confirmed.
The gargoyle nodded, relieved, images of
piles of rubble haunted her; it had not been an easy night.
“Good night then Ancient One.” Kendra echoed the sentiment and
then they were in the dark tent.
“I’m sorry that I shocked you, I should
have probably found a more delicate way make my point,” Kendra
whispered quietly in the darkness.
“No,” replied Demona just as quietly, “I
doubt a more gentle way would have made as much of an impression
on me. It’s probably your gift kicking in and helping you say
just what I need to hear,” she offered, and the more she thought
about it the more likely the idea seemed, “If you’re blunt then
its only because nothing less would get me to listen.”
“Maybe,” Kendra responded, her tone
doubtful.
They settled down in the sleeping bag, and
for once Demona preferred to be held rather than holding,
scooting further down so that she could tuck her head underneath
Kendra’s chin. The gargoyle wasn’t certain she could fall
asleep; her mind was full of racing thoughts. Kendra began to
softly stroke her hair, and Demona was tempted to grumble that
she was not some hatchling to be calmed, but she didn’t. Right
now, the soft stroking on her hair felt too good and soothing to
for her to want it to end. She didn’t realize how little time
it took after that for her breathing to even out in sleep.
Kendra pressed a kiss on the top of the
gargoyle’s hair and settled down to try and fall asleep
herself. Seeing the evidence of what the Magus’s power seeking,
the Weird Sister’s plotting as they sought their vengeance, her
own ancestor’s murderous actions, and Demona’s anger had led to
grieved her. Those people hadn’t deserved to die anymore than
Macbeth and Demona deserved to be targets of the Archmage and
Weird Sisters twisted machinations. She had already forgiven
the hurting gargoyle in her arms and tonight hadn’t changed her
feelings on that one bit. If anything, it had solidified her
feeling that forgiveness was the right response, but as she had
said to Demona before those who died deserved to not be
forgotten for they were innocents caught up in the results of
the Weird Sisters scheming.
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