Date: Thu, 28 Jul 1994 21:07:58 +0000 Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "kimberly (k.s.) smith" Subject: BLIND FAITH (3/4) Here's part three. Please send comments to ksmith@aludra.usc.edu. ******************************************************************** BLIND FAITH (3/4) Kim Smith (c) 1994 Two hundred years to the day later, Duncan gazed at the girl next to him. Danneau had disappeared that night, beyond Duncan's ability to locate him. Now, it seemed he had decided to come out of hiding. Duncan looked at the girl next to him. She was strong, he knew, but strong enough to face Danneau in the Game? He had carried her slight body into the house himself, he remembered. St. John had been made nearly useless by grief and guilt. Duncan had placed her body on her bed, standing over it while someone went for a doctor, for the militia. And he had been the first to see her eyes open, see the confusion in them as her wounds healed and Death released its victim. The first to see the new Immortal born. He had also made the explainations, lying first to the doctor and St. John, then to the shocked and frightened guests. Finally, far into the night, he had explained to Acadiana about who and what she had become. About the Quickening, about the Game. About the Prize. "Did I ever tell you," she said now, her voice quiet, but audible even above the storm, "how grateful I am to you?" "For getting you killed?" His voice held more than its share of bitterness and guilt. "No. For taking care of me. For training me as well as you could. For protecting me all these years, almost my entire life, from Danneau and from others." "Not well enough. Danneau found you again." "You couldn't have prevented that. Nothing can stop one Immortal from finding another." "Still...." He stared out over the waves. *Which way would the bastard come from?* "You came when I called. That was enough." She knew what he was thinking, knew his fear. Carefully, she hid her own. "I almost regretted calling you. I wanted to believe I was overreacting to a gift, imagining things." "He left a pretty clear message," Duncan said. "To you and me, to him," she nodded. "but it could have just been a secret admirer. I could have one, you know." She tried to laugh but it came out wrong. The fear was still too real. *********************************************************************** She opened the door on the first ring. The small Northern California community was quiet, Duncan had made sure of that long ago. There was nothing to worry about. The delivery boy was young and pleasant. Surprised at the gift, she fumbled with the pen to sign for it, thanked him and closed the door. Then she ripped into it. The scent of roses hit her first, the smell of blood and battle. The box fell from her hand. The neighbors came when they heard her scream. "A red rose," one told her when she asked. "Pretty color for a boyfriend." Cadian barely heard the teasing. No friend had sent this. It was easy to shake off her fears, reassure her neighbors, throw the rose in the trash. But, that night, the first call came. "Did you enjoy your gift, my dear? Cadian slammed the phone down, but not before he laughed. The same laugh that had been the last sound of another life. She stayed awake that night. The next day, she went through her day as always. Breakfast in the morning, a walk on the beach, an afternoon working with her music. She went to bed at eleven, tried to sleep. But she was awake when the phone rang at midnight. "Our anniversary soon, my dear. I'll come for you." The line went dead before she could hang up. She did anyway, then picked the receiver back up. Her fingers dialed the number without thought. An ocean away, it rang once, twice. Then, a deep voice with a Scots accent answered, the accent fainter than it had been two hundred years before. "Duncan." Her voice was steady, although every nerve in her body screamed. He heard it. "What's wrong?" "He's found me. He's coming for me." No need to ask who. "I'm coming." "Hurry." The phone went dead again. She clung to it. He was coming. Less than ten hours later, the knock on the door surprised a scream out of her. "It's me." She ran to let him in. He pulled her into his arms and she stayed there for a moment, allowed herself the comfort of her teacher's arms, before she pulled back. "He's coming for me," she repeated needlessly. "Has he been here?" His eyes were dark with worry. "No, only called. He sent me a rose, a red one." Duncan cursed. Cadian found herself smiling. An odd sense of peace had taken over, a sense of the inevitable. "He's coming," she said. ********************************************************************* He had called no more. He must have known Duncan had come, that both of his targets were in the same place, that the game board was set. Two days, and no sign of him. Now, four hours from midnight, until two hundred years would be up. She realized Duncan had left, somewhere in the middle of her memories, to patrol the house again. The house Duncan had bought with her father's legacy, had watched over until she learned to care for herself. The house where he had taught her the ways of the Immortals, the ways of the sword. The sword was still at her side. Useless now as it had always been. She cursed her equally useless eyes with unexpected anger, then calmed again. *Why waste the energy? Duncan is here.* He would protect her. She cursed again. The thunder rolled yet again. It felt close. She drew her arms around her body, shivering for the first time. When she felt the buzz, she thought it was Duncan, coming back to check on her. Then she smelled the cologne. end part three =========================================================================