Redemption, Chapter Fifteen (End)
morga...@my-deja.com
by Beck McLaughlin
Methos, Duncan and Cassandra are the property of someone else, alas, and
no copyright infringement is intended. Everything else is mine.
Comments, criticisms and flames can be sent to bec...@umich.edu.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The doctor stepped into the corridor and smiled. "She's stable, Ms.
Roulin, but you're right. Igraine needs immediate surgery. I'd like to
move her -- tonight, if possible."
Cassandra nodded. "As long as you can promise to keep to our
conditions."
The man smiled. "Frankly, for what you're paying us, she can have her
own hospital."
"Can I go in?"
"She's asleep, but yes, you can."
Pushing open the door, Cassandra stepped into the sickroom. Igraine was
barely a bump under the quilts, pale hair neatly braided, a stuffed
animal gripped loosely in one transparent hand. It was Jason's turn to
watch, nodding in the chair beside the bed. He started out of his
drowse, hearing her. She saw the quick look of shame that had been
there ever since the whipping. Struggling with her own guilt, Cassandra
made no attempt to stop him as he mumbled an excuse and slipped from the
room.
He'd told her that morning that he was leaving the island. "You've
given me everything, Cassandra. It's time I stop taking and starting
giving back. It's time I --- faced myself." They were good reasons --
and all of them were lies. What could she say? She'd used him as
callously as Methos had used her and thereby damaged an already fragile
human being. If he never forgave her, it was no more than she
deserved.
"Oh, Igraine," she sighed, tucking the blankets a little closer around
the girl. "After thousands of years, I'm no wiser than a mortal."
Igraine stirred, murmured, and fell back into deep sleep, unconcerned.
The Dragon was safe; her world was right again. All else were simply
grown-up problems. Smoothing wisps of hair from the child's brow,
Cassandra left the sickroom.
The last of her unresolved business waited for her in the library. It
was tempting to postpone it, to force Duncan to track her down, but that
would only prolong her own discomfort. She let herself quietly in the
room. Through the wall of windows, clouds scudded across the sky,
infrequent breaks letting in brief, fine bars of sunlight.
Duncan paced back and forth in front of the window. His Watcher friend,
Joe Dawson rose awkwardly from the couch and advanced purposefully on
her.
"I guess we're out of here, Cassandra." He held out his hand. She took
it, smiled faintly at the reassuring squeeze. "Take care of yourself,
OK?"
She nodded. Joe threw a troubled look at the Highlander. "I guess I'll
go see what's holding up the car they promised."
Duncan was oblivious to the spectacular view. She waited expectantly,
watched his jaw tighten.
"I"m taking Methos back with me, Cassandra. I'll fight you for him, if
I must."
"That won't be necessary." It was what she had expected. "He saved
Emrys -- all of us. Whether it was compassion that motivated him, or
self interest, the end was the same. Vortig is gone." She forced a
smile.
"You still can't forgive Methos, can you?"
She made a helpless gesture. "I don't know what I feel anymore, Duncan.
It doesn't matter anyway. Take him. That much of his debt I'll accept
as paid."
MacLeod took an impulsive step toward her. Fighting an urge to run, she
let him put his arms around her and pull her gently close. As always,
his strength and kindness eased the ache inside her. "Thank you," he
said into her hair. "Where is he?"
"Fire Point, I think."
He gave her an anxious look. "Are you sure?"
She nodded. Her face ached from holding the smile.
"I'll see you again, soon?" he asked. She nodded. Kissing her lightly
on the nose, he was gone.
Cassandra sat for a long time, watching the yard and the valley below.
Jason, loaded down with luggage, crossed the driveway and threw it into
the back of Charlie's pick-up. So -- he wouldn't even say goodbye. The
lump in her throat grew. She watched the truck pull away, disappear
from sight. It was replaced by Lucius' van. Islanders swarmed out and
into the house. It was time to move Igraine. In a few short months,
Tom would be gone, too, off to university and a life of his own.
Shadows lengthened in the valley. The van left and, an hour later, she
saw the medical helicopter rise above the trees and shoot west, toward
the mainland. Time to move. Time to get on with the business of
living. Cassandra wandered aimlessly through her large, echoing house.
Habit drew her to the kitchen. It was empty, a single light burning
over the stove. She made a cup of cocoa and sat down. Sipping it, she
shook her head, then set down the cup. Tasteless.
She felt the sudden shiver through the room, another across her nerves.
The door opened. A cold wind blew in.
"Hey, Cassandra!"
It was Tom. She raised her head, wondering what Duncan had forgotten,
and her thoughts stopped. Behind the boy was Methos. The Immortal
avoided her eyes, shrugging out of his coat and throwing it on the hook
beside Tom's.
"We found a trap door in the floor!" Tom continued, oblivious to the
sudden tension. "I wanted to open it tonight, but Methos said to wait
until tomorrow. But what if we took the generator out there? We could
have light then!"
"You're still here," she said, looking straight at Methos. Tom fell
silent, looked anxiously from one to the other.
"Leave us," Methos said. Tom nodded and beat a hasty retreat. Methos
leaned back against the door. Cassandra's heart was racing.
"I told MacLeod you could go."
He nodded. It was hard to see his eyes in the shadows. "Maybe I want
to see what the tower looks like once it's reconstructed."
Cassandra stared, bereft of words. Then, in a sudden, furious movement,
she stood up and started for the door.
"Wait! Cassandra!"
She stopped, fists clenched at her side.
"MacLeod is waiting for me in the harbor. If you really want me to go,
I will."
"Why are you still here? Is it Emrys?"
"Sleeping beauty?" His urchin smile came and went. "No. I wanted to
talk to you. Can we talk, Cassandra? Will you listen to me?"
She shrugged angrily.
"Do you remember the night you showed me the stars?"
Whatever she'd been expecting, this wasn't it. Time's endless skein
broke apart. She smelled dust and horses, watched his tall figure
striding through the merciless blaze of the sun, heading toward the dark
and cool of the tent. Toward her. The image blurred and it was a
modern man that crossed the gleaming, kitchen tiles and reached for her.
The hands that took hers were still dirty, but there was no blood on
them now.
"After you were gone, I'd leave the camp sometimes, ride alone to a
hilltop. I'd lie on my back for hours watching the stars, hearing your
voice telling me about them." His dark eyes were distant, seeing into
the past. "You gave me the stars -- I gave you death and slavery."
She looked down at their hands, twined together, and found that she
could not gather her thoughts into order.
"Why, then," she asked finally, "did you give me to Kronos?"
Methos released her abruptly, turning away. "I did *not* give you --
oh, gods."
Cassandra caught her breath, but curiously, she was not afraid. She
watched him regain control, hunch his shoulders in a quick, anxious
shrug. "I couldn't fight Kronos and win. After he'd killed me, he
would have killed you for coming between us." Methos hesitated, hands
thrust into the pocket of his coat, eyes bleak. "I watched you run out
of his tent. Later, when he sent us out looking for you, I was the one
who found your trail, but never told him."
"Am I supposed to be grateful?"
"Well-- you could be. Just a little bit. It was the first time I'd
ever defied Kronos, even in secret." His mouth twisted bitterly. "In
fact, you might say you were the beginning of the end for the Horsemen.
The truth was, I resented losing you -- resented Kronos for forcing the
issue. It was an anger that built until, finally, I left."
"And then, I suppose," sneered Cassandra, "you went looking for me."
"Actually, yes, but I found a mortal woman instead. My first wife.
Andromeda finished civilizing me. She looked a lot like you, except her
eyes were brown, not that particular shade of greenish blue."
He remembered his first wife's name? Her eye color? For some reason,
the thought shook her.
"You're a mass murderer," she managed finally.
"I was, yes. Now I do everything in my power to avoid picking up a
weapon. I am NOT the same man, Cassandra!"
She returned to the table and sat down, finding her cup blindly. Looking
up, she saw Methos watching her.
"Do you know what Duncan said to me when we were walking back from the
tomb?" She smiled faintly. "He said 'Hatred is a narcotic that eases
the pain of fear.' He's very wise for someone so young."
Methos blinked, then grinned. "He has his moments."
"It's true, though. My 'habit' has hurt those I love, threatened my
friendship with Duncan. It was turning me into what I most despise."
Cassandra shook her head. "No more."
"Then -- can there be peace between us? Or, at least, a start?"
"If it matters."
He laughed -- a ghost of a sound. "It matters."
She wrapped her hands around the cup, leeching the last of its warmth.
"Then I will think about it. In the meantime, go with Duncan."
"Cassandra . . ."
"I need to be alone, to find some understanding." She made a helpless
gesture. "Withdrawal, if you will."
"Tom will be disappointed."
Cassandra drew a deep breath. "Then, perhaps, you'll come back in a
month or two -- to see him."
There was tension in the room again, but it was different this time.
Methos nodded slowly. After a moment, he pushed away from the wall and
started for the door. Once there, he paused. "Can I ask a favor?"
Caught by surprise, Cassandra nodded.
"Don't let anyone else renovate that tower?"
That startled a laugh out of her. "I'll think about that, too."
He nodded, then stepped out into the night and was gone.
Cassandra sat in the gathering silence and drank the last of her
chocolate. The oven timer chimed. Soon Maurice would come hustling
down to check on his rising bread. There was quiet place in her heart
she'd never sensed before -- a lightness of the soul that made her smile
into the empty kitchen.
And if she closed her eyes, she could see the Wheel spinning, coming
around again.
***
End
Well, if you made it this far, your stamina is to be commended. :)
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