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Survivor Part 2 (7/8)
Kay Kelly (wilusa@EARTHLINK.NET)Mon, 2 Apr 2001 00:20:21 -0400
*** I grew nervous as Saturday dragged on. In my head, I kept hearing Carlos's words on the phone to Adam Pierson. //"He really is dangerous, an' I don't know whether I'm more scared to leave him or to stay."// I wondered if Pierson had guessed his contact was dead. If I'd had Carlos's cell phone, I would have tried calling the last number dialed. Filled Pierson in, maybe asked this old Immortal for advice. But the phone had been in Carlosıs pocket when he died. I was on my own. *** Late in the afternoon, something finally happened. Jacob invited all of us to an evening feast in his newly furnished dining room. He made clear it was a command performance. And we should dress up--this would be a night to remember! //I don't know whether I'm more scared to leave him or to stay...// We dressed up. Faith had been a seamstress in her presumed-mortal days, and was now a fashion designer. Her taste ran to the outlandish, but Jacob got a charge out of having her provide our wardrobes. At least her idea of men's formal wear wasn't as gaudy as her choices for everyday. I didn't know what Jacob would be wearing, but the colors she'd picked for the rest of us were pale blue for Jin, white and gold for Bob, white and silver for Winston, cream and tan for me. She probably had fancier names for them. Unfortunately, the material was satin brocade. I couldn't guess in what century the cut would have been appropriate, but it sure wasn't the twenty-first. The thought went through my mind as I dressed that I'd hate to die in a getup like this. Then I glanced at Jin, changing his clothes with the rest of us in the room we shared. I saw him hesitate for a long moment, then strap on his sword. Going to dinner? //I don't know whether I'm more scared to leave him or to stay...// I decided to take my cutlass along too. *** Jacob--and an expressionless Faith--greeted us at the dining room door. Jacob was decked out in black, with gold braid. Faith wore a beaded dress in the same deep copper color as her hair. That made sense, I thought; the hair color was one she'd chosen, presumably a favorite. I knew she was a natural brunette. And then, for the first time, it occurred to me to wonder if the choice had been hers or Jacob's. The table setting was undoubtedly his idea, and it made all my nerve endings tingle. The table was a long one. Jacob had understandably placed himself at the head and Faith at the foot. The rest of us could sit where we chose--but all four places were set along one side of the table. Jacob explained that he wanted us seated that way so he could stand across from us and make a little speech. Perfectly plausible. But I couldn't shake the image of him sweeping down that row of drugged Immortals in the Sanctuary, taking heads as he went. //I don't know whether I'm more scared to leave him or to stay...// I decided to avoid sitting at either end. That wasn't hard to do, since Jin headed straight *for* one end--the one near Faith. I wasn't sure whether his goal was to be close to her or as far as possible from Jacob. I dropped into the middle one of the three remaining seats. Winston beat Bob to the one next to Jacob, and Bob wound up between Jin and me. Following Jin's lead, I stashed my weapon under the table. Within easy reach. Then I studied the room, which was new to me. It was sparsely furnished--the table and chairs, racks of lighted candles. The scent of candle wax made it feel like a church. But I was most interested in locating the nearest exit. *** Food was already laid out, and Jacob didn't discourage us from digging in. He made a point of recommending the wine, which he described as "an interesting new label." I only took a few sips. It looked too much like blood. Then I caught a glimpse of the bottle, and discovered the vintner shared Jacob's macabre sense of humor. The brand name was Cutting Edge. Standing at the head of the table, Jacob called for attention and raised his glass. "A toast," he said solemnly. "I see tonight as a celebration of the spirit. To all of you who continue to stand by me...even those who might waver at times." I didn't let myself change expression. He looked down the row of faces, unctuously acknowledging each of us by name. "Winston... Manny...Cracker Bob...Jin Ke...Faith." I met his gaze forthrightly, but without a smile or nod. My insides were in knots. "You are my *flock!*" he assured us. "You nourish my soul." Lifting the glass again, he intoned, "Do this in remembrance of...our special occasion." A mockery of the Last Supper. And yet...I found myself wondering what kind of priest Jacob might have been. //"If I'd known from the start that holy ground was a refuge all Immortals honored, I would have gone into a monastery and stayed there. Happily! The sins of my youth could have been forgiven--even my trying to kill MacLeod. But by the time I found out, it was too late."// If he'd been taught properly, if he hadn't despaired of finding redemption, he might in our day have been...not Pope, no Immortal could risk that, but a man who deserved to be Pope. Then my thoughts strayed in another, more disturbing direction. //"You nourish my soul..."// At the Last Supper, Catholics believe, Jesus gave His Body and Blood--in the form of bread and wine--to be consumed by the Apostles. Was this madman planning a perverted mirror image of that, a Supper in which *he* would *consume his disciples?* He roamed down the other side of the table. "You are all part of a great journey," he told us. "A four-hundred- year quest for justice." When he reached the end of the table, he rounded it and strode behind Jin. Headed for a wall bracket I hadn't seen before, and removed a wicked-looking sword. "And here, my friends, is the instrument of that justice. The giver and taker of creation. Blessed by Popes..." Holding it reverently, he walked back to stand opposite us. *³Baptized in blood.²* I wasn't sure why I was still sitting there. I found it hard to take my eyes off that sword. "It is the living that matters, after all," Jacob said. That sounded reasonable. The sword sparkled in the candlelight. "It sings like an angel," he breathed. "Just listen..." *And then the sword split in two.* Jinıs gasp snapped me out of the half-trance I'd been in. But Jacob was still holding two murderous swords, one in each hand. Were they real, or was one an illusion? If they were both really there, had my seeing only one been an illusion? Had Jin seen what I did, or something completely different? Whatever the truth might be, I knew Jacob was making his first use of the Sanctuary Immortals' powers. Jin was on his feet, sword in hand. Jacob leapt onto the table and confronted him. Towered over him, wielding those *two* deadly blades. Yet no one else seemed to be moving... Jin shook his head and lowered his sword. Even now, he couldn't fight the man who'd saved his life. Wouldn't dispute his onetime savior's right to end that life if he so desired. Those merciless blades whipped through the air. Jin's head fell with a sickening thud, and his lifeblood spattered the table. Jacob moved up it to stand over Bob. The blades were scarlet--dripping, reeking. I looked into my teacher's face and saw the implacable visage of Death. He swung, committed to the strike against Bob. And I hit the floor rolling. Grabbed my cutlass, somehow, without injuring myself. But I didn't get to my feet till I was out the door--and didn't stop moving till the force of a distant Quickening knocked me off them again.