I was meditating because I was unsettled. I tried to find the settled peace that mediation usually brings me. My centre seemed to be fractured, however, I went into a trance nonetheless. Instead of settling things it felt even more chaotic.
Voices swirled in my head. I couldn’t focus on any of them. A skewed landscape coalesced around me. The light seemed garish and wrong. The ground was black. Finally, I could make out that it was a church, but it didn’t smell or feel like a church. The altar was tilted at a forty-five degree angle, the pews tilted wildly in the opposite direction.
“Hell, Brother.” It was Kronos’ voice, but it wasn’t. Even at his most insane he’d never gotten that note of condescension in his voice. That was Claudius. I shuddered at the combination. It made no sense. I knew I had Kronos riding around in my skull, but Darius killed Claudius and I did not have Darius’ Quickening in any part. The cold caress of a blade against the back of my neck made me catch my breath. “Do you recognize me yet?” the voice purred. And then I knew.
“Set. What are you up to?”
“It’s time to test the Champions. To see how they burn.”
“MacLeod.”
“Yes,” a warm breath in my ear answered. A gentle caress through my hair followed.
“Ryan.”
“Yes.”
“Amanda.”
“Of course.”
“Who else?”
“Think, Boy,” Set laughed.
“Dawson, Laura. And Jude’s boy – Mulder.”
“Oh yes. Bright boy. Remember you cannot interfere.” I don’t like this aspect of the Deity. I never have. Set is anger, rage, hate, and all the other shadows in the world. For me he wears Kronos’ face. I don’t know what Jude sees.
“I know.”
“Be a good boy,” he said ruffling my hair again, brining back memories of Claudius. Set had been there the whole time in my dreams. No matter what I tried, he wouldn’t leave. He is a cold comfort at times. He was a constant. He kept me vaguely sane. He kept me from getting myself killed. From going off in a rage against an Immortal I couldn’t have beaten without being in better condition. No, I don’t like him and I hate the period of my life that he represents. I hated the memories he invoked.
I suppose there is no beating around the bush any longer. Claudius owned me. Legally owned me. After I’d left the Horsemen, I was captured during a raid and sold to slave traders. Claudius bought me as a tutor for his children. Adopted children of course. Claudius was as Immortal as I am. I was a little ragged around the edges. I was angry and raging. I had never been treated like property. I had always been the owner of slaves. I thought nothing of it. It was a way of life. It was Claudius who made me understand that it shouldn’t be. I never held another slave after him.
He was a harsher master than Kronos. Claudius was merely sadistic. Kronos actually had a reason for every punishment he ever inflicted. I was a good teacher, but a miserable slave. I will admit that. I invited the blows at times, to keep the anger in check. I learned a long time ago not to fight if I can’t win. I wanted to survive. He broke me to a certain extent. I never contradicted him in public. But in my dreams Set came with his whispers of revenge and temptations. I forced myself to pull away from the memories.
Set was grinning at me. It was a pure psychopathic smile that made me very glad that he couldn’t take my head unless I surrendered it. A quick kiss on my cheek and I was waking up to the swirling chaotic colors of real life and the painful wail of the phone. My head throbbed and my stomach felt as if I’d just been kicked. “Pierson,” I growled into the receiver.
“Adam, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Joe. Just woke up from a nap,” I lied forcing my voice under control.
“Bullshit. I’ve been trying to get you for over an hour. You are too light of a sleeper to let that go.”
“I swear, Joe. It’s okay. I must have been in the shower or something.”
“Adam,” the voice was mellow and comforting, “you don’t have to lie to me.”
“I just had a disturbing dream while I was meditating. It’s nothing. What’s up?”
“Just wondered what you were up to today.”
“Meaning you have something for me to do if I don’t come up with a very convincing story in about five seconds.”
“Meet me at my apartment in half an hour.”
“I’ll be there.” I looked around my apartment and left as quickly as I could. The unsettled feeling stayed with me through the entire trip. I admit I was in a bit of a mood by the time I made it to Joe’s. “So, I’m here,” I said. I was steaming. The traffic had been horrid, the weather was overcast, but not rainy, and there was a smug mortal who was waiting to make me do some sort of nefarious physical labor.
“Hi, Adam.” Joe’s blue eyes were too knowing. “The perfect mood for demolition then. Come on.”
“Demolition?” I asked, thrown for a loop.
“Yup. There’s a wall in the back room that the Watchers believe contains a manuscript they desperately want to get their hands on. Apparently, it is a picture of Methos.”
“This is where Don hid it?!” It was a Watcher property.
“Not Don, and I will get that story out of you by the way. This is a painting from Rome.” I paled. Claudius’ wife had taken up painting to fill her idle hours. She’d used me as a model more than once. I’d thought all of her work was destroyed.
“The ceiling isn’t going to fall in if I take out the wall is it?”
“Not to the best of my knowledge. But I’ll just wait on the other side of the room…”
“Not funny, Joe. What am I supposed to do? Beat it down with my bare hands?” I asked looking at the cleaned out room. I took off my coat and tossed it just to the side of the door. I peeled off my sweater, until I wore only a tee-shirt and jeans. My dagger was nestled at the small of my back. Joe laughed and handed me a sledgehammer.
“Be careful.” I got the feel of the weapon and knocked a hole into the hollow wall. With the hole made I abandoned the hammer for my hands. I jerked off a section of wall and tossed it to the corner. I heard a round of applause behind me. I turned to find Russell Havershim. I’d met him years ago when he was Watching Rebecca. He was a bratty, sarcastic, whiny, good time. I bowed at him.
“Joe, I never thought I’d see Adam Pierson actually doing physical labor. How did you manage it?”
“Gave him a research lead on Methos.”
“Ah. How have you been, Bookworm?”
“Just ducky, Russ.”
“How’s Immortality treating you?”
“Lovely. I have nightmares. I can’t manage to get drunk without tapping myself out. And I’m not paranoid, there are actually people out to get me. And MacLeod is a morning person.” Russ laughed. I noticed he didn’t offer to help or even come across the room to see me. I cocked my head to the side.
“What’s wrong?” That startled him.
“What do you mean?”
“What’s wrong, Russ?” I demanded. He jumped. My mask must have fallen away for an instant because Joe was suddenly alert. “What happened today that brought you to Joe?”
“I just came to make a bet…” I stared at him until he shifted like a naughty schoolboy. “Cassandra started raving about demons to her local priest. She’s been unbalanced since the whole incident in Bordeaux. They’ve finally packed her off to an asylum and I’ve been reassigned.” I was terribly glad that I didn’t have anything in my hands right then because my entire body felt numb. Russ seemed apologetic. It took me a few minutes to realize that my reactions must have seemed as if I were upset at remembering the Horsemen fiasco. He had no way of knowing that demons would set me off.
“So,” I finally pushed out through the lump in my throat, “who’re you going to be watching?”
“For the moment, they’re assigning me to research.” I put a fist through the wall. Of course, Russ had a linguistics minor. He was the new Methos chair. I knew it. Especially because he didn’t want to tell me. “Come on, Bookworm, it’s not like I requested the assignment. I know it wouldn’t have still been funded if you hadn’t done so much work on it, but…”
“It’s okay, Russ. It’s just been a long day.”
“Did MacLeod teach you how to do that?” I shook my head. I pulled my hand out and ignored the blood from the already healed wounds.
“Kronos,” I stated. Russell finally rolled up his sleeves, pulled on a pair of work gloves and joined me at the wall. Joe left us alone then. Russ shut the door.
“What was it like?”
“What was what like?”
“Waking up after you died.”
“Like living in hell.” I leaned my head against the wall. “He wanted Methos and I couldn’t give him that. He wanted me to take his place. I’ve read every chronicle we have on him. I know more about Methos than Adam Pierson. Funny. I never knew that I was adopted.” I laughed bitterly. I took out the anger and the pain on the wall and then I felt a hand clamp over my wrist. I spun out of the grip and prepared to attack. I know my eyes must have been overly wide because my breath was hitching in my chest.
“Adam,” he said softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Funny, I read the first reports on me before they finally knocked me off of the system. I thought everyone knew.”
“The file’s restricted.” I wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad news. I closed my eyes to calm myself down. “Adam, we’ve been friends, well, aquaintences for a long time. I’m not about to abandon you because some upper management bastard put out an order not to talk to you. Talk to me Adam.
“Russ, just leave it be. I’m tired. I’m cranky. It was just a bad night. Just don’t grab me. I’ve never liked being touched.” We went back to work on the wall.
“I remember. I’m sorry. So what are we looking for?”
“A picture of Methos according to Joe. Personally, I think the Watchers just want to get some free labor for remodeling the wall.”
“Someone stored a picture in the wall? I didn’t think it was that old. Wouldn’t Don have known about it?”
“It seems that he didn’t or he’d have had me dig it out years ago. I think the information just came to light. Who used this place before Joe, I wonder?”
“It’s just a temporary housing spot. Whoever was in town could have been using it.”
“I just want to know who gave them the tip off.”
“You didn’t know about it?”
“I didn’t have a clue until I got here this morning. Joe just called me. I figured he wanted me to clean up.”
“You hire out cleaning services? I might…”
“I owe Joe a hell of a lot more than I owe you.” The last part of the wall shifted and there was a package there. Wrapped in faded newspapers from the great war, was a piece of crumbling stone. My heart stopped and I found it hard to breath. I felt Russell’s hand on my arm. I didn’t shake off the contact. I had hoped it was just a joke. I’d hoped it were another wild goose chase. Now, faced with the very real possibility of finding an actual picture, I had no clue what to do about it. Russ picked it up and placed it on a clear part of the floor. We both sat down and stared at the package.
“You open it, Bookworm. You’ve been looking after him a lot longer than I have.”
You have no idea, I thought. I picked at the string, then pulled out my dagger and cut it open. I folded back the pages to reveal my doom. It was what the Watchers had hoped for for years, and what I had dreaded for millenia. Russ caught his breath. I twirled the knife in my hand and evaluated the man before me with flat eyes. There was no point in pretending. The odds of Methos having a double were slim to none and the Watchers didn’t know about Corey and Jude. He stared at me. His blue eyes were large. Then, he smiled. I blinked and sheathed the knife. There might be no need to kill him just yet. His eyes darted to the sledge hammer and back at me. “Don’t do it, Bookworm. Don’t destroy this. We can get it classified so they can’t display it at the museum. It doesn’t have to be copied into the chronicles. It’s a good likeness.”
“Havershim, I’ve spent years trying to keep anyone from getting an accurate description of me,” I stated.
“I understand. But this is too valuable. We are historians, Adam. We can’t just destroy something like this. Just in case, Adam. Don’t let us lose you to history just because you’re afraid of being ratted out.”
“Don died protecting me. Joe’s life has been put on the line. I…”
“Because they chose to protect you to keep you close. We all make choices.”
“Russ…”
“No, let me finish. The Gathering is coming soon. The Watcher network is on full alert and has been for the past six months. The world governments are making strategic moves for some big threat that no one will identify. Our network has caught wind of some rumors of biological weapons that can control human minds…”
“It’s real,” I confirmed. “Kronos had some. He’d been running experiments with it. He wanted to take over the world with it.”
“Shit. I’m guessing this is in confidence.”
“Personal journals only.” He nodded.
“There’s talk of something to counteract it.
“An antidote?” I looked him dead in the eye as he confirmed it. I calculated the risks associated with letting him live with the knowledge of my identity. “I can’t let the upper management know who I am.”
“Adam. I’m going to ask to be assigned to watch you. That way you don’t have to worry. I can keep the name Methos from surfacing.” I caught the gun that Dawson tossed to me.
“Is there going to be a problem here?”
“Nothing I can’t handle Joe. It’s just a matter of secrets.” Joe limped in to look at the picture. He grinned.
“Good likeness.”
“Oh, shut up.” I felt my face turn red from embarrassment. Why couldn’t the woman have painted clothes? “Smug brat,” I muttered. I got a cane in my ribs for my troubles. I glared up at the man. “Okay. Okay. My chronicles are classified, right?” I looked up at Joe, who nodded.
“Only your Watcher has access to the information at the moment, except for a picture.”
“And who exactly would be my watcher?”
“Your looking at him. You’ve been hanging around Mac for the most part. The rest of it, I fill in with your email.” Joe shrugged. I looked into Russell’s eyes.
“I won’t betray you,” he said softly. “Let me do this, Adam.” I nodded slowly.
“Is there a place for all this?” I asked gesturing at the room. I needed to do something with my hands. The unsettled feeling was making my stomach churn. I needed to occupy myself so that I wouldn’t snap Russell’s neck and have to get rid of the body and possibly leave Joe. If only Joe hadn’t come in, it would have been so much easier. It would have been simple to destroy the tablet and then Russell would only have had his word against mine.
“Look out the window. There should be a skip.” I did as I was told and started to load the debris into the skip. It made a satisfying thump as it fell into the enclosure. Joe’s gun felt right, tucked into my waistband. Russ and I made quick work of the rest of the debris.
I continued to ignore him as we worked. I didn’t want to think about how utterly stupid it was to let the man watch me.
Joe came back half an hour later with sandwiches beer and approval from the Council for Russ to watch me. I chugged the beer in one long swallow. Joe frowned at me. “Give me a hand in the kitchen, Adam.” Russell sat up at the tone of voice. It was very clearly an order. I think he was shocked when I didn’t protest or even make a snide comment. I was beyond caring. “Tell me.”
“I can’t Joe. I can’t explain it. I just feel… off. Meditating didn’t help. Destruction didn’t help. I doubt even killing would help me right now.” Joe cocked his head to the side.
“Is it the Gathering?” he asked me, most seriously. I blinked. Then shut my eyes and thought.
“No, it’s not that. Not yet. There’s a few years yet.” His eyes opened wide.
“You can tell?”
“The Gathering is not exactly what the Watchers think it is. Nor is the Prize. It’s hard to explain. It’s not time yet for the answers.” My eyes must have grown very distant, because the man, who usually questions me with the tenacity of a pitbull, just let it go.
“Beer?”
“Definitely beer,” I agreed. Belatedly, I realized that it had been Joe’s test of Russell’s honor. If the boy had followed us or listened from the doorway, Joe would have killed him. I could see it in his eyes. The thought touched me and scared me at the same time. It meant that the man was willing to kill for me. I’d never asked that type of loyalty from him. We spent the rest of the day knocking out the rest of the wall and cleaning up the now large room.
Later that evening I wander towards Mac’s barge.
He came running out at me, with his sword in his hand. He didn’t seem to be coming after me, but I wasn’t too enthusiastic about the situation either. “Mac! It’s me! It’s me!” I protested.
“Did you see him?”
“Who?”
“Kronos.”
“Really,” I stated flatly. It was a bad day for jokes and that was what it had to be. The boy turned and walked away from me. “Mac? Mac, where’re you going?” I called after him. He didn’t turn and didn’t listen. A will’o’wisp of red fog threaded along in front of him and I knew that it had begun. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the night air. I went home and started packing. Joe called me out the next day. He and the street-rat, I mean Richie Ryan, were waiting for me. They filled me in on MacLeod’s ravings as we walked through the streets of Paris.
“Most religions have some version of the savior myth – demons sent to destroy the earth, and a champion comes to protect it.” Set’s been playing this little game for so long. I’ve seen too many men claiming to be defending the earth from evil.
“That is exactly what it says in the journal,” Ryan told me.
“But millennium theory is nothing new, Richie. Every thousand years I hear these same stories. I don’t know. I have never seen a demon.” Gods, ghosts, aliens, I’ve seen. Demons and angels I’ve never met. I think I would have met at least one by now.
“A Zoroastrian demon,” Joe commented. Carefully, not rolling his eyes.
“Well then, maybe you guys have another explanation for what’s been going on,” Richie challenged.
“What’s going on is that Duncan MacLeod’s losing it,” Joe stated.
“Okay, we’ll talk to the granddaughter,” I said trying not to destroy the boy’s faith too early.
“Yeah, maybe she can help.” We chatted about other topics until we reached the girl’s home. There were fire engines, ambulances, and police cars crowded around the building.
“You live in the area?” a detective asked.
“No, we just saw the smoke. What happened?” I asked. I saw the wisps of red in the smoke and could guess, but I wanted it confirmed.
“Arson. Someone set fire to the building. We’re looking for a man. He was seen leaving the place late last night. Tall, dark hair, ponytail.”
“Ah, nobody we know,” Joe answered with a shrug. It was nice to know that even if a friend of Joe’s is going insane he won’t turn on them.
“Sorry,” Richie answered in the same light tone. We turned to go. “Not a chance, Joe.” Children are hard to convince.
“Richie, come on. I know how you feel.” So the mortal was going to do my work for me. What a relief.
“Give me a break. Mac was not involved in this. You know it.” I head Joe sigh as they pulled a body from the building.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
“She was, uh, Allison Landry,” the detective answered, almost absently.
“Thanks,” Richie said.
“Poor, poor Allison.” I’ve been burned to death before. It isn’t fun. The poor girl got herself caught up in something she’d never understand. She died for reasons that I cannot explain to anyone.
We went to lunch on the Siene.
“So, you agree with Joe. You think MacLeod’s crazy,” Richie snapped at me.
“I think he’s hallucinating, Richie. He’s seeing people that he’s killed. Who knows what else he’s doing?”
“He did not set that fire.” It was refreshing to see the boy not cave in to an older opinion. Somewhere along the line, he’d built himself a backbone. “What if he’s not seeing things? What if all this stuff is for real?”
“You’re talking about demons running around. Dead people walking.”
“You’re walking. How many times have you been killed?” He pointed out.
“Richie, it’s not the same thing and you know it.” My head is still attached for one thing. MacLeod was raving about a man he’d killed not even a year before. I knew damned well the Highlander didn’t have Kronos’ personality because he was safely snuggled inside my own head.
“Nonononono. I don’t know it. Nobody know the reasons that Immortals exist, and maybe this is it. Maybe we’re here so one of us can fight this thing.”
“Yeah, this has been going on for thousands of years and no one has ever heard of it. Not Watchers, not Immortals.” There are a lot of things that the Watchers and the majority of Immortals haven’t heard of, I thought to myself. I couldn’t tell Joe that Richie was right about the possibility of things going on that no one knew. Hell, he himself had only known about Jude less than a year.
“Basically, yeah.” He paused. “Ah, forget it. I’ll see you guys.” He left the restaurant. Leaving us to get the bill I might add.
“Blind loyalty. Very common in the young.
“Yeah. I guess that’s why we both feel like rats.”
“Yeah.” Blind loyalty. What a crock of shit. I wasn’t loyal in the least. My mouth was forming words that I didn’t want to say to the kid. Either of them in fact. I wanted to scream that MacLeod was facing something that was very real and very dangerous and that a good part of the future would rest on how it was handled. I wanted them to know that they were being tested as well. All I could hear though was the echo of an overly amused, dangerously silky voice saying, “behave.”
We spent the afternoon carefully planning a way to get MacLeod to a good shrink. Maybe getting him locked up like Cassandra.
We went to see him on his barge. An attempt to get him to be a voluntary patient.
“So where are the men in the with coats?” Cheeky little brat.
“We think you’re in trouble, Mac,” Joe began.
“Trouble,” the Highlander snorted. “You think I’m in trouble.”
“Mac, you need help,” I told him. Gods, did he need help. He needed all the support he could get and something solid and real to grasp on to as the world spun out of control. I’d been there. But what I grabbed ahold of was rarely solid in the real world.
“You can’t do this alone,” Joe continued.
“I’m not insane! I saw Horton, Kronos. I heard them. I don’t know what they were, but they were real!” As real as your own mind allowed them to be. Kronos and Horton are the faces of MacLeod’s evil. Kronos is not evil in my mind. Then again, Set was trying to… seduce me to the Dark Side, not scare the hell out of me, or make me fight him… it
“And you think they were demons?” I clarified.
“Yeah,” he confirmed.
“Please, let us help you, Mac,” Joe pleaded.
“Look, I’ve been reading about this, thinking about it. Look at the state of the world: war, famine, chaos.” Death, I added silently. “There has to be something to this prophecy.”
“And?”
“I don’t know. Look, if this is all in my mind, if I am crazy, then it’s too late. If not, then there’s nothing you can do.” It wasn’t my fight. And it wasn’t Joe’s yet. Mac picked up the phone. “Hello… That’s impossible…. No, Richie, do nothing. Nothing. Get back here… Richie. Richie! You don’t know what your facing… Keep him on the line,” he told Joe. “He’s gonna be at the old racetrack.” He threw Joe the phone and left.
“Richie? Richie!” Joe tried the phone. “It’s no good. Kid’s not on the line.”
“Leave it open. Have the Watcher’s run a trace on it. Hold on.” I stepped onto the deck. “Russ! Come in here. It’s an emergency.” My new watcher was startled, but climbed on board. “Run a trace on the line. Joe and I are going to the old racetrack. Richie says there are hunters, some of Horton’s old crew after him,” I lied. Russell didn’t even blink and Joe nodded. I wasn’t sure whether he was confirming the choice of action or the story. We rushed to the racetrack. Just in time to see MacLeod’s deadly katana separate the boy’s head from his body. The boy was dead. I didn’t know if he’d failed his test or passed it. I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to take away the Highlander’s pain. Then, part of me screamed in satisfaction that the boy would lose a student as well. That he would know what it felt like to turn on his own in madness. What he forced me to do with Silas.
He held his sword up, crying. I knew what he wanted. I’ve been there myself.
“Certainly not.” I turned away.
“Take it,” he demanded. He threw it aside. He staggered out of the racetrack. I pulled Joe onto my shoulder as he sobbed and dialed Joe’s cell phone number. The phone that Russ now had on him.
“Yeah?”
“Are you outside the track?”
“Yes.”
“Follow MacLeod. Joe’s in no condition to do it and he’ll just run from me at the moment. Ryan is dead. Mount a suicide watch on the Highlander. He’s not carrying his sword.”
“Roger that,” Russ stated. “I’m leaving Dawson’s phone in your car,” he told me. I heard a car door slam and then nothing. Russell, it seemed was very good at field work. He’d have to be, I decided, if he’d been tailing Cassandra for any length of time. My next thought was to get Mac’s sword and get Joe out of there.
“No, we have to take care of the body,” he protested. Tears were still running down his face. I shook my head.
“I have to take care of the body. Wait for me in my car and find me a Watcher funeral home.” Dawson nodded jerkily and took the sword reverently.
"I'll take this with me and put it in the trunk." And cry himself sick in the front seat as he looked for a funeral home. I gathered up Richie's things, tucking his sword into his coat and his head onto his lap. I went to the back of my car and got a body bag. I don't have the luxury of a Watcher clean-up crew at most of my fights, so I come prepared. I arranged Ryan's head and body in the back and zipped up the bag. I put it out of the way and sprinkled an absorbant cleaner on the blood and then swept it up. No one would know that anything beyond an electrical explosion had occurred there.
I stayed with Joe until after the funeral and the stone placement, about two weeks. Then, I decided it was time to visit Jude.
FINIS