Scion: Seeds of Glory IC

[HookerBoots]

The other room is fuller than it ought to be, at least half a dozen human cultists standing and sweating in hooded robes; a tall, smoldering figure in the center of a circle of blazing fires; a half-naked young man strapped to a flat stone in the center of the circle; and a handful of people chained to walls on the far side of the room.

Every person in the room looks up when Evan flies in, mouths dropping open in many cases. The scorpion form crashes into the room, catching on and breaking pieces off a rocky outcropping near the door. "You little insect!" the fire giant yells, his meaty fists clenching. "Kill that bastard!" he bellows, pointing.

The cultists do the only sane thing - they run the other way, scrambling over each other in their haste.

Seething, the giant grinds his teeth, the sound like the rumble of an avalanche. "You heroes, trying to save everyone," he growls, one hand groping at his side and sliding a sword from his belt. "It won't work this time, fleas!"

 

[Armphid]

"He's an arthropod, Harald, not an insect. And he's dead already." Evan grinned and dove towards the giant even as the massive mountain of Legend shaped flesh and flame. "And we're not here to save everyone, I'm sure as hell not saving you."

But Harald was still close enough to kill the man in the circle and that was unacceptable. Evan roared and hefted his axe over his head for a tremendous overhand swing and then threw it over the giant's head. He dropped down abruptly and landed beside the man in the circle, pulling his dagger and slicing through the cords that bound him in one motion before grabbing the man and taking to the sky again, flying backwards away from Harald Mountainburner.

 

[HookerBoots]

Bellowing as his prize is pulled away from the center of the circle, Harald lunges forward, his sword whistling through the air. In his rage, however, the blade flies wide, skittering off one rock wall near the dangling foot of the man in Evan's arms. "I'm not the one who needs saving," the giant grunts, trying to track the moving targets while keeping his eye on the other captives.

Crystal slips into the room, bow already drawn, and looses on the giant. Her arrow flies true, but doesn't bury itself as deeply as they have with other beings. The bladed shaft slides into his thigh, sticking but not too deeply. A second after impact, the wooden shaft bursts into flame, a tongue of fire from the smoldering giant's leg.

Harald looks to the side and laughs derisively. "Not good enough, little girl!" He turns back to Evan, his eyes taunting. "It's sweet how you let her fight for you, hero. Perhaps my attentions should turn to the soft, tender flesh of your companion."

 

[Kinkerhell]

Brigitte snarls, a wordless, angry sound of challenge. Its not that she likes Crystal, in fact she loathes the self-important little greek tramp, but if anyone's going to damage her, it'll be Brigitte. Her snarl turns into a ululating battle cry, a shriek any old norse berserker would be proud of, and Brigitte takes three running steps and launches herself at the towering, sneering giant.

Her feet leave the ground and she travels through the air almost too fast to be seen, reduced to a shimmering silver-and-blue arc who's terminus point is the pompous, leering titanspawn. She reaches it in the blink of an eye, and there's a loud, satisfying rending sound as Gram punches deep into the giant's side before her momentum tears the sword free. Her interrupted leap drops her to the cave floor on both feet and her free hand, only a few yards past the giant. Whirling in a flash of metal, she straightens and speaks in a dreadful, hollow tone not wholly her own.

"Come then, and feel Winter's chill."

 

[Armphid]

Evan winked at Harald as he screamed, Brigitte's terrible blade ripping through him. A huge gout of steaming blood splattered on the floor of the cavern and the giant staggered. "I think my tender companions are more than you can handle, ace." He gestured to the gorgeous and brutal swordswoman, "Brigitte here could take you herself. I mean, you're not doing much for the reputation of giants here."

He twirled the simple dagger through the fingers of his right hand, "In fact, why don't I just put you out of all of our miseries?" He darted forward and threw himself sideways into the pool of blood, sliding in it past the swinging blade of the bellowing titanspawn and coming up underneath his guard. Evan drove his knife in a brutal stab into the gaping wound that Brigitte just made.

Harald howled and the sound seemed to shake the cavern. Evan grimaced and pushed his hand and then his forearm up into the giant's body; hot, scalding blood pouring down his arm and over his bare chest but he simply pushed the blade in deeper, questing and probing until he felt it strike something like a vibrating and overfilled burlap bag that seemed to shudder and then burst as it was pricked.

A fresh gush of eitr poured out over Evan as Harald Mountainburner's flames guttered and died. The giant's sword tumbled from his grip to clang loudly in the sudden silence of the cavern. The hostages stared; unable to even shriek in terror. Harald sagged and fell, Evan's bloody arm and knife slipping out of him, to thud like a sack of rotten meat against the hard stone.

Evan's smile twisted into a smirk as he looked down at the body. "Well, turns out...you could have used some saving after all."

 

[HookerBoots]

It took a heartbeat for the people chained to the walls to start clamoring to be let loose after the giant fell. The man that Evan had saved stood up shakily, pushing the hair from his face with one trembling hand. "You . . . you saved us!" His smile was broad, the grin of an innocent man who just got a governor's pardon at the last second. "I can't thank you enough, you all . . . are amazing!"

Crystal stalks over to the giant's body and begins searching the corpse. "Did he have the keys on him?" she asks, almost rhetoically. Her fingers are searching over the body, her hands quick and sure as she looks for the keys that must be there.

One of the women on the wall speaks up, her eyes wide - a moment's inspection and it's clear that she is the one whose double you met in the woods. "I . . . never thought I'd be so glad to see someone covered in blood." Even her voice sounds the same as the monster's did when it imitated her. "This is like some terrible nightmare, we'll wake up in a bit, laugh it off, right?"

 

[Kinkerhell]

Almost absently, Brigitte replies, "No. Its real, monsters are real, and you're actually chained to a wall." She turns and studies the tunnels leading out of the cavern. To Evan she says, "Ill be back. I'm going to hunt down those cultists." She sets Gram on the altar. "Use this if you can't find keys. It should go through the chains like a hot wire through clay. Be carfeul, I want it back."

Brigitte draws her pistol and transfers it to her left hand, then reaches down and pulls a long, slim stiletto from her boot. She chooses a tunnel more or less at random and starts toward it. "Ill try to ask what their intent was before I butcher them all." She stops and turns, and for a moment considers staying, so shocked are the expressions on her companions' faces.

"Monsters have no choice but to be what they are. Humans have free will. There can be no mercy for these here." She turns back to the tunnel and walks briskly toward it.

 

[Armphid]

Evan blinks; stunned at Brigitte's intense desire to hunt the cultists down. He can see the fear on the faces of the trapped researchers as the metallic coated Scion went past them. "Brigitte, wait!"

He moved up to her, "Hold on." Evan could almost feel the relief coming off of the captives and he looked back at them, "Don't get me wrong, she's absolutely right. Those cultists brought here of their own will for torture, rape, and death. They deserve to die and we will kill them."

Then he looked back at the lethally lovely lady, "But we shouldn't separate. These people will need all of us to get them back safely." He leaned in and pitched his voice lower in the hopes of keeping the...you know, they needed a term for normal humans that wasn't "mortal." Anyway, he didn't want them to overhear. "Remember, there's one of those shapeshifters still unaccounted for. If any of us are alone, we're giving it a golden chance to take us over and there's a lot of harm it could do with one of us."

He patted his pocket, "If we get them back to the station, we can grind up the horn and use it to find that thing, no matter what shape it's in." Evan licked his lips and glanced back at the bound captives, "The cultists can't go anywhere; it's an island. We'll hunt them down, but I don't want to give one of those red-skinned fuckers a chance to kill one of us or, you know...hurt you again."

Then he stepped back, "But it's your call, you're the monster hunter out of all of us and I trust your judgment."

Evan smiled and walked back to the central space. He picked his axe up off the ground and hefted it, walking over to the kidnapped people. "The key can get those manacles off, but let's get all your arms down." He lifted it in an overhand swing and brought it down just below where the chain was anchored into the rock.

 

[Kinkerhell]

Well....shit. Brigitte grimaces because Evan has a point. She'd completely forgotten about the shapeshifter. Slowly, bitterly, she nods. "We'll come back for the cultists." She turns back to the wall upon which the captives are chained and raises Gram, advancing on the one who'd asked if it was all a nightmare. Setting the blade on the eyebolt securing her chains, Brigitte flicks her wrists and the eldritch blade parts the metal like butter.

Ash she goes about the business of freeing traumatized tourists and naturalists, she calls to Crystal, "Huntress! Is there something useful on that corpse, or are you just digging for shits and giggles?"

 

[HookerBoots]

Crystal straightens up as Brigitte asks her if there is anything useful there, her hands full with a few items. "I was looking for the . . . keys," she finishes, holding up the keys to the manacles as Brigitte frees the last captive. "Well, at least we can get the chains off of their arms, I guess." She walks over to the first woman, easily undoing one of the manacles and pressing the keys into her hands, letting her unlock the rest of them.

Unfolding a piece of paper, Crystal holds it out toward Evan and Brigitte. "I did find this on him. It's a map of the volcano." She taps a section of it. "This place, I can't read what it says, I think it's Old Norse?" The section indicated is at the very bottom of the map, where the volcano itself seems to end. "I don't think, whatever it is, that it's good." Indeed, the map is marked with what looks like Old Norse writing, and stylized depictions of pickaxes. Her tone turns a bit dry. "Call it a hunch."

The now-free meteorologists nod. "There were more of us - they took Georges and Albert out that way," he points to the entrance leading further into the volcano. "I remember the - the giant," he manages to say without sound too unnatural, "saying something about them being strong enough to help dig?"

 

[Armphid]

Evan looked over Crystal's shoulder at the map, "How do you know what Old Norse looks like?" Then he blinked. "...I can read it. Why can I read it?" He shook his head and grimaced; understanding Old Norse in speech was freaky enough but this...it just didn't make any sense!

Of course, ten minutes ago he'd had sex with a woman made of living magma so maybe he should sack up and get over it.

"It says "dig, dwarves" and that's about it." He raised his brow, "If there are dwarves there we may not have to fight them. They were friends of the Aesir in times past, and the ones we met in Iceland were friendly." He gave Crystal a saucy look and winked, "Very friendly to some of us."

He turned back to the people that they'd rescued. "All right, everyone. I'd like to tell you that you can all go back to the weather station and give you directions. Unfortunately, we can't do that." He wasn't going to tell them why, however. The last thing they needed was all of these folks panicking because one of them might be a monster. "For now, you're going to have to come with us, and we're going to be going further in to find out what the map's about, and hopefully find the other two that were lead away."

Evan looked back at Crystal. "She's going to be taking up the rear, stay in front of her and keep together. If you think you need help moving or you're hurt, or if you see something strange or unexpected, speak up." He sighed and looked a bit wry, "Whether you like it or not, you're all part of this story now. I know it all seems impossible, and I know some of you might want to pretend it's not happening and just tune out. Don't. It's a great way to die in a place like this."

Then he shouldered his axe and walked to Brigitte, gesturing for her to walk with him, "Shall we lead the way, deadly and delightful? Give them something nice to look at while we lead them deeper into the volcano."

 

[HookerBoots]

Crystal fell into step easily at the back of their little group, her eyes scanning the walls and darkness almost as though something might jump out at them at any moment. And who knew, it might happen.

But the spiraling passageway was quiet, save for the hissing sound of magma dripping and bubbling and the soft scuff of everyone's feet on the hard rock. It was almost disappointing, really, but just as well.

The passage opened up into a large room, even bigger than the one where the pyriads had been playing, this room darker and more ominous somehow. There was a flow of lava in one corner that didn't quite manage to light the rest of the room - particularly the deep hole in the middle. From that excavation site came sounds of digging and muttering in a language that was both musical and guttural.

There were also spots of light bobbing around inside the hole, about waist high to the average human. From the center of the hole is a large, tapering, sinuous shape that appears to be made of a blend of metal and bone or horn.

 

[Kinkerhell]

Brigitte looks at the hole, then back at her companions, then to the hole once more. From here, she can't tell a great deal. There are things inside it, either emitting their own light or carrying something. They could be very short, and that indicates dwarves in Brigitte's mind. Of course, they could also just be flashlights held normally, which would put them at waist height.

The thing in the middle of the hole draws Brigitte's attention, but she cannot for the life of her figure out what it is. It seems an amalgam of living tissue or horn and dead metal, but it could be something that's merely alive and armored. Either way, she doesn't like not knowing what it is. She drops back a couple of steps.

"Well, this looks bad. I'd guess something like dwarves, maybe the greek equivalent." She shrugs offhandedly. "I could be wrong, my vision isn't so good as to be able to see very well into that hole." Unlimbering Gram, she says, "So, guns blazing, the quiet approach, or both?"

 

[Armphid]

"I can see better but I agree with your assessment." That horn, as good a term for it as any right now, did not make him feel good at all. He had a distinctly bad feeling about it. "It looks bad."

Evan weighted the options Brigitte mentioned. Guns blazing sounded very appealing. But there were hostages down there, and possibly not just the people. The dwarves might be as much prisoners as the humans were.

But he also certainly wasn't going to sneak around again. To hell with that.

"Well, fortune favors the bold," he said with a wry grin. "I say we walk right down there, declare ourselves and see what they do in response." The redheaded pornstar glanced to the back of the pack, "Crystal can cover us from here, and the researchers can stay as well in case this gets ugly. Sound like a plan?"

 

[Kinkerhell]

Brigitte grins wide, showing her teeth, stark white against the silver-plated skin of her face. She rotates Gram in a slow circle and stretches, the movement seeming both sensuous and predatory, deadly and decadent. She pops in a couple places, hissing at the small hurts, but relishing them. Then she straightens and takes Gram in a two-handed grip.

"Would you like to do the honors, m'sieur?" she asks Evan sweetly.

 

[Armphid]

Evan couldn't help but grin. "Brigitte, you don't even know how much." He laughed, "But I'll do the honors here first, tragically."

They weren't being subtle. So he figured he'd be almost as obvious as he could be. He vaulted over the side of the spiraling stone staircase and plummeted down into the mining effort. He could hear gasps and shouts from the people they'd rescued, no doubt thinking he was insane.

And he maybe was, but not for the reason they were thinking.

He hit the rock hard and with a thunderous crash. The rock under him shook but Evan just flexed his knees as though he'd hopped down from a step stool, not a forth foot drop, and just stood up. "Evening all. My name's Evan and I'm a son of Freya. My friends and I just killed a bunch of assholes up there, including Harald Mountainburner, whose blood I'm covered in. So. Where do we go from here?"

 

[HookerBoots]

There was stunned silence for a moment, and then there was laughter and cheers that sounded decidedly gruff. The dwarves tossed their picks and shovels down, and one of them clapped his hands to his hips. "Ain't that beat all!" He grins, and in the light of the head-lamps the others are wearing, it's clear that his face is scarred in several places. "A lad of Freya's, eh, savin' us from durance vile!"

He walks forward a few steps, one hand extended to Evan. "I'm Delling Turison, smith. I an' m'men owe you and yer friends a great debt, Evan, son of Freya." He looks around at the other dwarves. "Right, lads?" He nods firmly, and so do the others, crowding around Evan to look at him.

At best count, there are over two dozen dwarves in this area, all of them dirty and underfed-looking. Delling calls down to the ones that are not up on the rise where Evan landed, and before long, they have escorted the group, captives and all, nearer to the magma, to give everyone light to see. "So, friends," the lead dwarf says, sitting on the rock floor and facing Evan, Brigitte, and Crystal, "tell this old dwarf what he an' his can do to help you, as you are owed a debt here."

 

[Kinkerhell]

Brigitte could hear Evan talking, and the dwarves' reply. As soon as he'd landed, she'd begun running, moving around the hole as fast as she could in case she was needed for a flanking maneuver. Now it seemed that combat would not be necessary after all, and she might as well go down and join him.

Still, something twinged in her senses. Maybe it was just paranoia, but Brigitte had learned to take nothing at face value during her short career. She didn't see any guards, or wards, or monsters and for some reason their absence worried her more than the prospect of facing them would. For this reason, she kept Gram drawn. Besides, the dwarves had forged the original sword, before it had been broken, and their craftsmanship could still be seen in the great blade, if one knew where to look. As the old dwarf's question hung in the air, Brigitte stepped off the side of the hole.

She landed standing up, letting her knees flex slightly and during the bounce of landing into a step, so it looked like she'd simply walked out of the air, rather than hurtling down like a comet. She pointed with Gram at the thing jutting upward in the center of the hole. "Well," she said slowly, "You could start by telling us what that thing is. Or, forgive my impertinence, why there are no guards down here."

 

[Armphid]

Evan looked over the assembled group; himself and his comrades, the dwarves, the rescued humans. And one of them was a shape shifting mind reader. God, he hated those things. "Well, Turi's son, I think that my lovely and lethal lady friend has two very good questions that could stand to be answered to start things off."

He hadn't even thought about the guard thing but she was right. Why hadn't there been anyone left behind to watch the slaves? Or had they fled with the other cultists? If they had though, there would be no need for the dwarves to keep working.

"This is Brigitte, daughter of Uller, by the way. And she's a far fiercer and more fearsome fighter than I. So let's have the answers be forth coming. I think you can understand why, to us, this scene may be a bit...too good to be true."

 

[HookerBoots]

Delling scratches the back of his head. "Well, friends, it's a rough tale, that." He leans back against the wall of the hole and sighs. "We lived a bit further down, y'see, doin' as we've allus done, workin' with metal and earth." He looks up at the ceiling of the cavern, and sighs. "An' one day, that Harald showed up with his fiends, pokin' around this room."

One of the other dwarves coughs. "We never came around here, you see. Bad luck, and somethin' terrible sleeping." He nods his head toward the giant, spiraling protrusion in the center.

"Aye, that it was," Delling says, running a hand over his beard. "But the jotun tol' us he needed our services - an' he had us by the beard, he did."

Crystal raises an eyebrow at him, looking down at the group from her perch with the group of mortals. "He had something you valued, then."

Delling and the other miners nod. "Had - has our womenfolk and kinder." Delling rubs one finger over his mouth. "Him an' his creatures took 'em while we were down digging, by stealth and treachery," he spits down into the dig site, "and made us swear a vow, with our own blood. But with Harald gone, we can stop tryin' to disturb this fine lad," he points at the horn, "and go back to our ladies and tots."

There is a muted cheer from the other dwarves, who start to disperse a little. "Hold a secon', lads!" calls the lead dwarf. "These folks had another question, and I'm fixin' t'answer it 'fore we head off. We owe 'em that much at least." The diaspora stops, and the dwarves wait again, shifting impatiently.

"That," Delling says, pointing to the tower sticking up from the floor, "is the horn of a dragon." He makes an unhappy face, and sighs. "It's, near as I ken - and I ain't no expert on dragons, I'll tell ye right off - a big 'un, means it's old, and prob'ly smart, too." He looks nervously towards the center, his hands tightening into fists. "I dunno why that fiery bastard wanted us t'dig 'im up, but I'm just as glad we won't hafta finish. Dragons ain't notorious for bein' in the best a'moods when they're woke up with shovels and picks."

 

[Armphid]

Evan had thought it might be something like that. Contrary to certain modern fantasy classics, there were female dwarves. They were also, from what he knew, very clearly female and as he hadn't seen any here, having them as hostages made sense.

It all fit very well. But did it fit too well? Evan pinched the bridge of his nose as Delling went on and revealed the purpose of the dwarves digging. And now there was a dragon involved and they still had a shape shifting mind reading monster in the room with them.

God damn it. He thought this would get easier after rescuing the hostages and killing the giant. The Norns must not like his films.

"A dragon...well, that's something." Evan looked over at the horn aprehensively. He had some power, and together he and Brigitte were a potent team, particularly with Crystal. But a dragon...he honestly wasn't sure there was anything they could do. "All right, that's one more thing to deal with. Maybe we should cover him back up; I've no interest in interrupting a guy's rest."

"Delling, I'm afraid none of you can leave yet though." Evan sighed. "I need your help with one more thing." At least one more, really. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out an object that he kept carefully hidden, trying not to think about it in case his mind was being watched. "This is going to seem like a strange request, but I'd like you to take this and grind it up for me. I'm sure they were feeding you and giving you water. I would like some of the powder put into hot water, enough for three cups."

He licked his lips. The creature might know this could happen. If so, it might make a move now. "Crystal can go with you and help you. But the rest of us, all of us, are going to stay right here while the two of them do that."

 

[HookerBoots]

The dwarf nods and takes the severed horn solemnly, looking up at the pretty Greek Scion. "Well, c'mon, lass. Soonest begun is soonest done," he says as he starts walking up the ramp to the top of the dig. As he moves, he pulls out a knife and shakes loose a canteen from his belt, looking up to see where the nearest unlit brazier was.

Crystal joined the little man at the edge of the hole, walking with him easily until they reached the brazier. As they neared the miniature fireplace, he looks up at her. "I don' s'ppose you're a fire-starter, are ye?"

"Um, no," she says softly, her hands moving on her bow. "I'm afraid not."

"S'all right," he says, shrugging. "Here, if ye can, grind this up whilst I get the fire goin' here." He thrusts the horn at her, as well as the knife and pulls out a piece of flint and steel, setting to work at getting a spark going in the fire there.

After a few moments, the fire is blazing merrily, and about a third of the horn ground into powder and dropped into three cups. "Looks about right, innit?" he asks, and pours some water into each of the cups. "Kin ye handle the heat, lass?" he asks, nodding at the fire.

Crystal looks at the fire, the three cups, and then at her bow. Evan had been all right with his gift . . . well, she was tough enough to do it, even if she weren't fire-proof. "Yes, it'll be fine." She picked up two of the cups and held them over the fire, feeling the warmth increase in the thick bone that was used for them. Apparently she was fire-proof. Wasn't that something? "I should wait until it boils, right?" The fire heated the water in the cups, and she waited, feeling the heat grow more and more until the water inside of the vessels was bubbling merrily.

She pulls the two in her hands off the fire and sets them down carefully before picking up the third and repeating the process. When all three cups are brew, Crystal picks them up and head back toward the others, calling out to the group, "Come on, please. We need everyone together for this."

Delling leads her - and the researchers - down into the pit, where she holds out two of the cups to Evan and Brigitte. "Here you go," she says, eying the hot drink with suspicion before gulping it down in two swallows, making a disgusted face as she did.

 

[Armphid]

They were getting nervous. He'd have been more specific about it but there wasn't any getting specific. The researchers, the dwarves, hell, even himself. There was a monster here with them and he knew it and the researchers knew it. They were casting suspicious looks at each other and especially at the dwarves.

For their part, the inhuman craftsmen weren't happy with the scrutiny or with not being able to immediately set off to be reunited with their women. Not that he could really blame them for that.

Tension was pretty thick in the pit by the time Crystal and Delling returned. Evan nodded to the dwarf and took up one of the offered cups. "Everyone, thank you for bearing with us so far. This should be able to clear everything up so that we can all move past this."

Evan drained the cup all in one go; grimacing as he managed to choke it down. It was a near thing; he felt his stomach churning and trying to reject the bitter, rancid tasting brew. "All right. Now then."

The only problem was that he didn't know how this was supposed to work. Evan took a deep breath and then turned to take a look at the first in the line of researchers; he imagined reaching out with his mind, his thoughts, to touch that of the researcher.

 

[Kinkerhell]

Brigitte took the horn, and it took all her practice hunting foul monsters in unspeakable places to keep from wretching at the godawful smell. Then she drank, and it took all of her years of being a joygirl and a whore to keep from gagging at the taste of the foul, bitter stuff. She swallowed, trying very hard to not think about the taste. For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then suddenly there were voices in Brigitte's head. She dropped the cup in surprise, catching it an inch from the floor thanks only to her godlike speed. Gods, they were so loud! She closed her eyes as the babble filled her thoughts, gritting her teeth and trying to shut them out. After several moments of concentration, the mental noise subsided, and she could think again.

She looked sidelong at Evan, who seemed to be dealing with it much better than she was. She frowned. How did it come so easily to him? It wasn't that he was dumb or anything. He just didn't strike her as the pillar of mental fortitude that he seemed to be now. Hidden depths, apparently. She turned her attention back to the assembled people and near-people, and the babble suddenly rose in "volume" again.

Brigitte shut it out. It was easier the second time. After a bit of experimentation, she realized that she could sort of control the noise level. It was as if each person had a mental voice, yammering at her. If she concentrated on one person, it became louder and clearer, though even when she was devoting her full concentration to one person, it was hard to make out all the words.

So she didn't try. Rather than attempting to read each person's mind individually, she let herself open up to all of them at once and, holding her thoughts together through sheer will, started correlating people to the voices in her heads. She didn't know what she was looking for, but if one ringer really stood out, she'd know who it was.

 

[HookerBoots]

Crystal's eyes are closed, her breathing measured and slow. The silence in the room is broken only by the soft hiss of the lava in the corner and the breathing of the beings there. The man who had been on the altar shifts a little, the sound of his feet on the stone almost too loud in the quiet.

Evan's thought travels down through the line of researchers, moving slowly from the attractive British woman down the line. The first few people there seem to be normal, frightened mortals with no thoughts other than getting out of here and mild curiosity over what the three heroes are doing.

Brigitte's soft focus is letting her get a feel for all of them, hearing the thoughts of every person around them and letting them wash over her like waves on the beach. There is one train of thought that seems to be more aggressive, more alien, than the others, however, and it is easy enough to follow to the source.

Both women open their eyes at the same time, all three sets of eyes turn to focus on the blond man who had been prone on the altar at the same time. Crystal tilts her head to one side, fingering her bow lightly. "Tell me, friend," she says softly, her eyes narrowing a little, "what's your position on the research team?"

He turns slightly flushed, and the British woman looks at him, startled. "Brody, what's wrong?" She turns toward him, her eyes wide and confused.

"I'm the . . . the environmental impact specialist, of course." He looks around at the others, who seem to be moving away from him slightly, giving him space. For some reason, the people who have saved them all are suspicious of him, and they don't want any part of it. "Why are you asking?"

Crystal shakes her head. "You didn't know the answer right off, did you?" She pulls an arrow from her quiver, nocking it and aiming at him. "Why don't you show your friends what you really look like?"