Chapter 10: The First of the Dead

“That is intriguing. He certainly gets the prize for self-loathing bastard of the year.” John quipped.
“What do we do? Do we out him?” Merrick asked.
“No, Merrick. We’re not going to out the bastard. He can out himself as he likes.” John said, looking at Dominic.
“It’d certainly surprise his friends.” Dominic said
“You talked to yours? About your little secret?” John asked.

“Close associates. Few others.” He answered, not quite meeting the unnatural dark blues of John’s eyes.

John knew what it was to be an outsider. In a world divided between humans, Borderlanders, Talents and Crafters, he was a little bit of each and none of the above. As far as anybody knew, he was the only one of his kind in the entire world. He had an affinity for outcasts like himself, like Merrick and Jake. Or like him. How different was his situation, really?

“As for what he said, it’s a big duh. We know they were planning something. Still, I get the feeling from his choice of words that he’s a rather ambitious man. I’d be careful with him.”

“I’ve been careful since he switched files on me and sent me on a chase after Bigfoot.” Dominic groused.

John laughed. Then he stopped. There was something to that face.
“He really did that?”

“He told the people back at the field office that I chose it myself. I didn’t believe that kind of horse manure, and I thought he was trying to ruin my reputation.” Dominic said.
“You don’t take things like that lightly, do you?”
“I find it difficult to correct people’s wrong impressions of me once they get started. Besides, the very notion of getting sent on some wild goose chase like that offended me. Crap like that I thought was fit for novelty book series and movies on Saturday night.” Dominic explained.

“And yet Rachel tells me you loved that stuff, that all this was the trip of your dreams.” John said.

Dominic smiled, a child-like contentment in his eyes.
“What do you dream about? You, who many would kill to become. The badass fighter, a guy who’s even got a name for his weapon!”

“I dream about being the face in the crowd. I dream about those nice suburban lives I saw looking out the car window, when my dad took me to the Huntsmen Academy.” John said.

“A hard-nosed realist like me has to have some way to let off a little steam, to act out the denied impulses of the mythical and uncanny.” Dominic said.
“Well, you’re getting to act the hell out of them now.” John said.

Dominic smiled, for about the time it took for his mind to start quibbling.

“They’re looking to slow us down. What do we do?”

A voice spoke from the entrance of the tent.

“We do nothing we weren’t planning to do already.” Tim Redding said, entering.

“John. Merrick.”
“Sir” Merrick said. He looked a bit uncomfortable.
“How’s Wacheal?” Redding asked.
“She’s good.” Merrick responded.
“And how’s Laura?” Tim asked John.
“A bit occupied. Theo has my brawn and her brains. She tells me she’s learned more about warding in two years than she learned during all the rest of her career.”

A family man? Had to be, from the proud look on his face. But that meant…

A few months ago, he had managed to snare the Huntsman into helping him find Jacob Riley, the Cherub Elohim. Since then, the man had had hardly any time at home, none of it recent. As the discussion of family and home wore on between Redding and John, Dominic could see the man’s Sapphire eyes soften, the sad notes of worry of solitude cross and quickly smooth out. At that moment, he knew what the man really dreamt about- or more precisely, who.

Dominic wondered what dark thoughts crossed the man’s mind, weeks out from home. And Merrick… Thought lead to thought. The men and women brought to this world had families, friends, all now waiting, watching. What had they been told?

“Mr. Redding. What did you mean at the beginning?”

He had interrupted, but Redding seemed discreetly pleased.
“Green and his allies believe we are on some sort of time table. The truth is, we aren’t, our enemy is. The Ghost-fields, like many parasitized natural systems, has its rhythms, its waxings and wanings. Unfortunately for us, it’s power is not ebbing at the present moment.”

“Are we walking into a trap?” Dominic said. “Why don’t we wait this surge of power out, then?”

“If we don’t come to them, they will come to us, and with the power of that cursed place behind them.” Redding stated gravely.
“Just what kind of cursed place are we talking about here? How bad is it?” Dominic asked.

Redding looked the young agent in they eye.
“You know who we are, what we carry within. It is possible, as you know for a spirit to bond with a man, for them to live as symbiotes, sharing a life, or with one parasitizing the other. You’ve met with the Seared, probably wondered about their nature. To put it plainly, the Seared are victims, willing or unwilling, of possession.”

“Like the Nephilim.” Dominic supplied.

“Sort of. What lives in one of those poor unfortunates is, unlike Jake’s Cherubim, not usually passed down. What we have in the case of the Seared are lesser demons, at best able to hang on for a generation or two, if that. Usually, the order of the world rebels against their intrusion from the infernal realms, but in certain places this barrier can be made thinner, a kind of spiritual vortex, constructed in place.”

“Their lives aren’t the only things at risk, then.”
“No, unfortunately not. From what you’ve seen to date, I’m sure you understand the subtlety with which these Seared can be slipped back into their old lives”

Fear entered into Dominic’s eyes.
“God help us. And this with no way to avoid it. But that’s what the Demons were planning from the beginning, wasn’t it?” Dominic said.
“This is the nature of the God we serve: He will turn the destruction back on those wielding it against them. He will go into the very heart of the evil itself and undo it, once and for all.” Redding said.

---------------------------------------------------

John and Dominic walked the paths of the camp, reflecting on what they’d been told. It was John who spoke up first.

“They almost did that to me once.” John revealed.
“Did what?”
“They almost Seared me, when I was a child.”
“Awful. What happened?”
“They swiss-cheesed the memories before that point. Most of my Childhood actually. They didn’t touch the part where my brother put sixteen inches of steel through my gut, though.” John remarked.

Dominic’s eyes widened.
“Does that shock you?” Jake asked
“What shocks me is that you let him go.”
“You’d be surprised the depths an honorable man can fall to when misled.”

That got him thinking.
“Joshua’s told me that my boss is one of the people I must save. You were another one, as was Rachel.” Dominic revealed.
“Joshua’s giving you orders?” John said, genuinely surprised.
“It was more like a strong suggestion at the time”
“Well, I’m glad you took his suggestion. Does that make you a man of faith, then?” John asked him.

“What are you?”
“A fellow traveler.” John stated, offhand.
“Speaking of that, I had a thought. If these Nephilim can possess the Seared with their little demon friends…” Dominic suggested.
“…Doesn’t it follow that the Elohim can do the same? Could be. You might want to ask them, though. One thing does come to mind, though, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.” John warned.

“Okay, what?”
“Whatever the Elohim are capable of, in this regard, the Nephilim have the advantage on numbers over the technique the Elohim would employ.” John stated.
“I’m not sure I understand.” Dominic said.
“The Elohim have to ask. The Nephilim don’t. They can just force themselves.” John explained.

They considered that point in silence.

“I saw what Sarah did. That could be their big disadvantage.”
“It’s not so much a problem for them if they don’t run into Joshua or Sarah. They’re the only ones we know capable of doing that. Everybody else has to manage things the hard way.” John said.
“I don’t think things will remain like that for long. Call it a hunch.”
“As much as I agree with you, Sarah still remains the only person I know who’s capable of pulling something like that off right now.” John responded.
“What about Redding?” Dominic asked.

Taylor considered it for a moment. “I’ll have to ask him, if he hasn’t wandered off. Still, I think we have to be careful. From what Jake and Sarah told me, different Elohim have different specialties. Sarah’s power could be the result of a natural born healer’s talent compounded by the Seraphim’s own peculiar kind of power.”

“Are you saying he might be incapable of it?”
“I’d imagine he would be. The question is, can he use it like Sarah can, in the midst of battle? There’s a reason Jake keeps close to her; some of her magic can take a while to set up.”

Dominic recalled what he had been told about the nature of the Cherubim and Seraphim. A Cherub could typically react with magic on a moment’s notice, at the cost of the magic’s complexity and power. Seraphim could unleash far greater magic, with great complexity, but had to prepare that magic in advance.

These were not idle questions. The enemy might come at them with a contingent of Seared. What their capabilities were at this point was crucial. It was probably well known at this point that Sarah could exorcise the Seared. They might be prepared to deal with her. If they had another…

----------------------------------------------------

Hooper was at a meeting of his own.

“They’re telling us we leave within the weak. Green’s said we shouldn’t get in the way of this, and I agree.” Agent Darius Silver said.
“You agree?” Hooper asked.
“The men aren’t going to support staying in Elbujtheyo for much longer. We’ll never get home at that rate, and our agents know it. They might just leave with them out of desperation. This way, we can stop the group as a group. Besides, when they get out in the open the hazards of this place will put a damper on their adventurous spirits.”

Green found he couldn’t disagree with the logic. Folks were getting antsy. Still…

“The Hazards are real. It’s going to get them killed.”
“They want to go home. All of them do. Besides, we’re federal agents. We’ve laughed the face of danger before” Silver joked. “We keep them back, they’re going to want to know why. What do you plan on telling them?”

In all actuality, he had planned on telling them nothing. They were to be fodder for the Ghost Fields, brought their on capture. It would be easier, though, to raid the town and capture the agents while they were encamped here, rather than take a wary and organized force at the fields themselves. At this point, though, he couldn’t tell either of these two what he really wanted to do. He didn’t trust these men to go along with it.

Still, these men were useful, well liked, and didn’t ask too many questions. That in and of itself made them valuable to him. He could finesse things if he had to. That was at least what he thought at the beginning of the conversation.
“I guess you’re right. Hell, I’ve been itching to get out of here for a while myself” he replied to Silver. Wasn’t any lie there. He was sick of waiting around.

He had in fact been trying to work out a deal with the local bandits to do the raid for him, to disrupt and confuse the town so that the forces of Seared and renegade Borderlanders and Mages he command could sweep in past the lethal defenses of the Aucethabi.

The Aucethabi were the crucial barrier in the way of the plan. Their supernatural sight and their ability to deceive and defeat enemies with illusions meant that confronting their forces outright was suicide. As his masters had taught him, you didn’t try a frontal attack with the Elders. Instead, you had to occupy their attention in one place, while you made your real attack elsewhere, outside their notice.

The more he thought about it, though, the more he needed to neutralize Dominic. He had gone out in a specially made shadow-cloak, one that even Aucethabi eyes could not see through. Yet Dominic was able not only to spot him, but track him down the purposefully winding route. Dominic would sense the threat, like he had sensed the men that Hooper had been trying to hire.

With hindsight at his disposal, Hooper had realized returning to the camp that like the Aucethabi, Dominic could get into trouble if he got too focused. Agent Leonard had let his pursuit of him blind him. He must have stumbled into their sentries, just as Hooper was giving the signal.

It was a confounded mess, to be sure. He had wanted to hire the bandits, not kill them. That said, if he had let them kill Dominic, he would have taken the risk of being stumbled upon by any unknown person following Dominic, or the Huntsmen and Elohim discovering the circumstances of Agent Leonard’s death. That was with hindsight at his disposal. It was actually more like panicked fear of discovery, but he wouldn’t let himself believe that he could be so unthinking. He might admit to a more impulsive nature than he wanted to believe he had.

“Could we sabotage some of the equipment?” Roth asked.
“They’d probably just rely on the Drools instead.” Silver advised.

He was right. It would not slow them down, most likely. It was a weak strategy.

“How about we hang back, slow them down that way?”
Silver nixed the idea. “What, and look like slowpoke wimps?”
“We wouldn’t do it alone.” He said.

What was with these people?
“It’s doubtful they would want to linger that long in the Darshiaro wilds. My own encounter was hairy enough.” Hooper said.

They were surprised to hear him say that. Silver smiled, Roth, too.
Smiled? What kind of understanding did this represent?

Green had been too soft, he realized. He had let them become ensnared in the plans of the Elohim. They had lost objectivity. When he had originally been assigned to spy on Green, he had thought the man an excellent powerbroker, a master of bureaucratic politics, and admired his willingness to break a few eggs to make the omelets his official and unofficial superiors asked of him.

Unfortunately, there was nothing pure about the man, nothing unadulterated. He was too fond of those who served him, those who craved and would take his power in a heartbeat to do what was necessary.

Hooper had no such weaknesses. He knew what might have to be done. He knew now that if he had to do it, he could. He could leave both of these men to rot in the Darshiaro wilderness without a second thought.

He leaned back, a thoughtful expression painted on his face, and made his suggestion. He would see what he could do. He knew, like Green did, that these men were useful. But usefulness would have it’s limits, and when these men were no longer useful, he would lead them to their deaths or kill them himself without a second thought.

And Green? He had already outlived his usefulness. He wasn’t going to outlive much of anything else, as far as Hooper was concerned.

“What if we take a detour that slows things down?” he asked.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” Silver said.
“If you read the case files on Jacob Riley and Sarah Cordell, it talks about his wounding requiring a detour into the Canyon.”
“Are you suggesting one of us plant ourselves on a spear?” he responded dryly.
“If you really want to. But I was thinking we should see if there’s anything out there we should be really be afraid of.”

Neither Roth nor Silver could figure out what he meant just then, but they went along with what he planned.

--------------------------------------------------

It almost seemed like a cattle drive, this caravan of theirs, and the joke sort of spread around. After a few yee-ha’s, though, it got old, and John literally ran herd on them. The proceeded down the road, which was about the width of a four-lane highway, in four columns of a dozen apiece, escorted on all sides by the Aucethabi. Dominic rode ahead with Jake, Sarah and John, behind the wagons which carried, Agent Green, the few washouts on the Dogsteed riding, and a small group of civilians, including Joshua and Timothy, who decided to come along despite warnings about the riskiness of the venture. Bringing up the rear, Merrick provided the cover for the back.

Before they left, Merrick took aside the assigned leaders aside.
“Keep the formations tight. The Aucethabi are going to cloak us in an illusion, but such illusions have conditions on them. They don’t have to be aware of who they’re fooling, but they do have to know who they’re hiding, and where they are. If any of you break formation…”

Silver, a group-leader, himself filled it in. “We’ll be spotted.”
Merrick fixed him with his shiny golden eyes. Silver had to suppress a shiver. “No, worse than that. The corncob that sticks up in this field will be the first one picked. They’ll get to the rest of us after they’re done with you.”

As the leaders remembered both the fearsome message and the one who delivered it, they straightened out their columns quick.

Silver had to wonder about the plan. Did they really understand what they were getting into? And what if the detour route was worse than the main route?
The ride on the Drools was smooth. These creatures were bred to it. He’d ridden horses before, but these creatures were broader and shorter. When you went all out on them it was downright exhilarating. He smiled remembering the first time he’d done that and—

A few moments later, he would tell himself he just imagined it, but he thought he caught Hooper narrowing his eyes at him. He caught himself.

Still. Gorgeous country. The trees shimmered. The Indigo sky gave everything a bright shading, like eternal twilight. He wished he brought his camera.

Roth was back there with Schlesinger. If Hooper thought little of Silver’s respect for Dominic Leonard, he was probably fuming silently at their camaraderie right this moment. Silver thought for a moment

On point of fact, Hooper didn’t give a crap. Roth was already a write-off waiting to happen. Why make a fuss. They were after all useful for their popularity among the men. If Roth started getting marching orders, the boy would be entirely useless, and he had no convenient way to get rid of him, then.

What did Roth think? He thought it was a gorgeous day. Schlesinger was too trusting of the Elohim, of the Huntsmen, but didn’t feel any lines had been crossed. If they were willing to let them be, he was willing to let thing go. But Schlesinger was a nice kid, and Dominic always seemed the decent sort to him.

A gorgeous day.

Schlesinger agreed.
Silver had asked Roth about the young man, and Roth was quick to correct him on the boy. Schlesinger and Roth shared poor, single parent in small towns, Roth having been brought up in Appalachia, Schlesinger in the Midwest. There was a common assumption, because of his lanky frame, gee-whiz expression and language that he was wet behind the ears.

Actually, he had a number of years of experience before he went Fed, working as a hostage negotiator. Dominic had chosen him for his team on account of this patient quality of his. He was sort of Agent Leonard’s liaison, his ambassador to the courts, the bureaucracy and others. Schlesinger had that smile because it took a lot to knock him off balance.

Roth tried, God help him. Schlesinger even seemed to relish it, relish the chance to prove the equal of Roth’s goading. Roth kept it gentle. He wasn’t cruel by nature, though he could drip venom when the occasion called for it.

Secretly, he liked what Dominic had done with the group. He had taken good and made them elite. He could respect strength. He could respect Agent Leonard’s willingness to go out on a limb.

He was realistic, though. This wasn’t a bureau supported venture here. This was ad hoc as it came. James Green wasn’t the only fellow who would get in the way.

------------------------------------------------

The Rekio Bathchau loomed.

“Is it just me, or does this air seem kind of thick for the mountains?” Dominic asked Jake. He had grown up in Mountains, a Colorado native.
“Only your imagination, Dom.” Rachel quipped.

“You’re not imagining things. Darshiaro’s atmosphere is thicker for some reason. Good thing, too. If I had to name a defining feature for this world, it’d be mountains.” Jake said.

Darius came riding up. “The men want to know whether we’re allowed to use our pistols and other firearms.”

John answered him.
“Sure. But I’d recommend you use them mainly to handle the beasts. They don’t typically have the deflectors, unless they’re mounts.”

“Wouldn’t arrows get deflected too? Why’d you train us to be archers in that case?” he asked.

In response, Sarah took out an arrow and handed it his way. “Look on the arrowhead, and along the shaft and fletching.”

He did so. The weird markings he’d come to associate with mages was all over it. A magic arrow.

“Couldn’t you do that with bullets, maybe mass produce the markings?” Darius said.

It was Jake who answered this one.
“You could, but could you imagine doing that to whole boxes of bullets? Believe me, there’s a will to do this kind of thing. It’s the means that are deficient. First, mere markings are meaningless unless there’s a will behind them. That takes time, patience, and skill; all cost money. Second, the mechanical forces of firing a bullet, and the tendency for bullets to be fragmented, deformed cause problems for enchanting them. They’ve got one shot firearms with these kinds of bullets, but they’re collector items that rarely get used.”

“What about the gun that killed Chancellor Rowan?”

That had everybody looking at him. Darius noticed the silence.

“Nothing special about it, at least not technically speaking. Merrick back there was shot at with it and didn’t get hit.” Jake said.
“He didn’t wear a deflector. Why didn’t he?”
“Not everybody does. Mages get stabbed and bludgeoned more than they get shot at.” Jake said, a sad smile on his face.
“At least they used to.” Sarah remarked.
“I wonder about that. Is that going to make things better?” Darius asked.
“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.
“Well, like you and the rest have been teaching us, the new kind of fighting’s going to be close in, and rather messy. Less of the long-range stuff for people attacking, but also for people defending.” The distances for effective warfare have changed, and that changes the nature of territorial integrity, right?” Darius said.

“So what would the effect be, Jake?” Dominic asked.
“John knows better than I do.” Jake responded.

“It depends on the situation. Generic deflectors generally have problems with dealing with multiple slugs, asymmetric objects-especially when tumbling, low velocity projectiles, high mass objects, and offer no protection whatsoever from the release of chemical agents, and radiation, whether that’s heat, UV, or the harder stuff. They also don’t do much to guard somebody against overpressure or blast wind effects from explosions.” John reeled off.

“If I’m correct, he means this: Shotguns and machine guns could work at close range, but they won’t pack as much of a punch. Unconventional weapons like Nukes, nerve gas, dirty bombs, anthrax would not be hindered. Bombs, mortars, grenades and blasting weapons would generally perform as before.” Jake translated for him.

“So nothing changes?” Darius asked.

“I think these two are talking out their asses. They’re talking about deflectors because they’re common. They’re easier to make than pipe bombs for a trained Crafter.” Mendelson said.

“The military grade deflectors handle more shrapnel, stop machine gunfire and shotgun blasts more effectively. We’ve got separate devices for handling sudden spikes in ambient and radiant heat, but none of them work miracles.” John said.

Jake shook his head.
“A small advantage can yield a lot of good luck in battle. The insurgents in Iraq are sending swordsmen armed with deflectors against our soldiers. Some of the Marines I’ve been in contact with are actually carrying melee weapons around now, despite official disdain for it. They tell me ‘well, we twirl these things around in commercials, can’t see why we can’t carry them.’ They haven’t abandoned their M1s, m-16s, or their artillery yet, though.” He said.

“Sounds just plain chaotic. I wouldn’t think anybody would have an idea of what to expect.” Darius said.

Jake smiled. “God only knows. God only knows.”

-------------------------------------------------

They were about a few days march in when they passed into the bandit territory and Hooper and Roth went missing.

The Foothill alternated, green and overgrown, outcroppings and river valleys abounding. John warned them not to fall in, the currents were swift, and those who fell in would be quite lost to the group by the time they found their way out, or washed up on the banks. Being bandit territory, there was safety in numbers.

Joel overlooked the troop from the outrcropping. The troops under him sent him illusory pictures of their views their landscapes, along with Arkelsa script messages. The Aucethabi Soldiers kept themselves line of sight with each other. They kept strict vocal silence. Aucethabi were magnificent at illusions dealing with sight, but they were poor at fooling the other senses, though their capabilities extended in that direction.

That being the case, they were disciplined in other fashions to reduce their profile.

They were taught from an early age to move silently, to eat foods on patrol that would reduce their scent, to kill so cleanly, if necessary, that the person literally seems to disappear.

It’s quite understandable the Huntsmen kept close relations with them. They trained many of the Huntsmen in the techniques that could be learned. It was Joel himself who taught John how to move with stealth.

The real question they didn’t ask, going out, is what if a renegade had taught these arts of stealth to a Talent allied with the enemy, sent him in as a mole, and then aided him with some Aucethabi technology made for use against their own kind?

Roth wouldn’t ask that question. Hooper explained that he had “borrowed” the items from the Huntsmen. He wouldn’t know any better, now would he?

They left early that morning.

----------------------------------------------------

It is well known that it’s easiest to remember the dream you dreamed last before you wake.

Dominic woke from a dream that had him standing on a ledge, watching over a gulley. It was a dry desert ravine, the sand at its bottom parched, mud cracked into hexagonal shapes.

Something moistened the rock. Suddenly water flowed. It seemed to seep thickly. Maybe it was sediments dissolved within. Then it began to increase.

He was standing by the flow, which came like a torrent. In the darkness of this streambed, he could not quite tell what he was looking at.

He stuck his hand in the water, and drew it out. It felt uncomfortably warm, and smeared across his hand stickily.

The sunlight flared out from behind the rocks and blood glinted on his fingers.

The thunder rumbled from afar.

-----------------------------------------------------

When he awoke, Dominic’s sixth sense kicked into high gear. He didn’t even half think before he had armored himself and mounted a drool. As he loped the creature towards the border of their camp and the wilderness beyond, he halted.

He saw Hudson, Rigetti, and Schlesinger running towards him. Had he woken them?

He probably had.

“Mount up! Hooper’s snuck away from camp.”
“You saw him go?” Hudson asked.

The thought hit him. He hadn’t.

“Not exactly. But I knew it was him.” Agent Leonard clarified, hoping he wouldn’t have to elaborate.
Rachel came running up, to Dominic’s relief.

“Rachel. Go wake Captain Taylor and Jacob Riley. Get them on alert. Hooper’s left camp again.”

She took him aside, brought him to dismount.

“If I remember what you told me, he took care pretty good care of himself the last time. Shouldn’t we just let him wander back?” she asked him.
“It’s one of my feelings. And it’s bad. Worst I’ve ever felt. For us all.” He answered.

She looked at his eyes, saw the fear in them.
“I’ll talk to them right now.” She responded.

He got back up on his mount.

He had gotten somewhat deep into the forest when Schlesinger caught up with him.

“Shit. What’s the rush? I was just going to tell you Roth’s missing, too. Did you see them or something?” Schlesinger said.
“I don’t have time to explain. Just follow me.”

They loped out on the trail, Dominic following his sense, Schlesinger following Dominic.

They ran the gauntlet, over hill and through the rocky streambeds, after the scent of danger that followed Hooper.

They found what they were looking for.

Fortunately, Dominic brought them both up short.

They peered over the hill.

“What’s going on, Dom?” Schlesinger asked.
“This was supposed to be an ambush. I don’t know how he could have evaded it, but somehow he got past it.” Dominic tried to explain.
“How did you know they were there? That was a blind corner. We couldn’t see shit.” Schlesinger pressed him.

Dominic met those eyes. He didn’t want to lie to this kid.
“You know that nose for trouble they always said I had. It’s more than a nose. It’s a knack. It’s a talent. They just told me a few days ago.”
“I knew it. I knew there was something about you. That’s great.”

Damn, Dominic thought. That was a lot easier than he thought it would be.


“Well I’m glad you’re okay with it. Unfortunately, I’ve managed land us in a pretty pickle. Wait a second. What do you see over there?”

Schlesinger got out a pair of field glasses, and looked where Dominic indicated.

“It’s Roth!”
“Keep it down. Yes, it’s him. I think Hooper might be nearby. We need to get to them.”

Dominic knelt, and emptied his thoughts in meditation. Schlesinger thought to ask him what he was doing, but it occurred to him that whatever it was didn’t bear interruption. He got up, motioned for the young man to follow.

“Bones?” Dominic said, calling Schlesinger by his nickname on the team. “You pay attention to me. Stop when I tell you, start moving when I tell you to. I can’t make a bunch of noise explaining the reasons. Keep quiet yourself. You understand me? We get into trouble, run and get help, okay? Don’t try and be a hero.”

As heads turned and patrols went through blind-spots, they moved, weaving their way through the ranks of the bandits without giving away their presence to a single one. The sheer complexity of it all amazed the kid. If he had any doubts about Dom’s ability, the sheer weight of all the coincidences pressed them out of his mind.

They found Roth in a gap between two shelves of stacked slates, the mists of early morning closed around them.

Roth was genuinely surprised to find them there. Dominic quickly stifled his exclamations with this gloved hand.

“Quiet,” Dominic whispered. “Do you have any idea the shit you’re in?”

Roth pulled Agent Leonard’s hand from his mouth.
“No, what the hell are you guys doing here?” he said.
Roth seemed genuinely puzzled.

“We followed you here.” Schlesinger said
“But that’s impossible. What with these-”

It suddenly occurred to Roth that he might not want to open his big mouth about the devices, but Dom saw them before he could hide it away.

“Where’s Hooper?” Dominic asked.
“Down the path, trying to get a read on the Bandit’s path” Roth explained.
“You two had no business being out of camp. He could have stayed here and found out which way the bandits were going. You’re surrounded.” Dominic said.

Roth got up to look, but Dominic yanked him down.
“Trust me. Looking is a bad idea. We’re going to try and get you out of here, okay? Just stick with Bones here.”

Roth turned to Schlesinger.
“Trust him. He got us this far without a scratch.”

Dominic looked up, caught sight of bandits moving down the rocky cleft from the other side. He felt the concentration of their forces.
“We got to get out of here. Now.” Dominic said urgently, pushing them both along.

Roth led his Dogsteed along with them. They both took their spears out, Aucethabi-style affairs with multi-pronged heads and wickedly shaped blades.

Dominic knew the geography of the entrance to this formation, having passed it to get to Roth.

They were standing there, when they arrived.

There it was. The real “oh crap” moment. Sick to his stomach. Practically trembling from the shock and the damnable unfairness of it all.

“Take him, get the beasts and get the hell back to camp.” Dominic said.
“What about you?” Schlesinger asked.
“Go now, or you’ll regret it.” Dominic answered. When that didn’t get his ass moving. “Go!” he yelled, channeling his anger into the command.

The Bandits moved to interfere, but Dominic rushed towards their side and brutally smashed back any opposition. Still, It wasn’t impressing them enough. He sheathed his sword, took out the Growler. The club shuddered in its hand. He hadn’t wielded it since Arnokedic, nearly a month ago.

He jerked his arm forward to signal the others to go. The Bandits followed.

Dominic focused, and knew. First the tree.

He swung. The old tree might as well have been struck by lightning. It practically detonated. Dominic was peppered with splinters. His opponents were worse. The tree toppled. Some were skewered or crushed by branches, others hit by splinters far bigger than the ones he had to bear. Few had the armor to protect vital areas.

He ran down the path that Roth and Schlesinger had used, and then turned around and swung the magic weapon against the walls, one-two, like he was playing a pair of Kodo drums.

The stone took the impacts better, but only marginally so. Cracks suddenly ripped through the walls of the rock formation, sending slabs of it down on his pursuers, coming from further downhill. He put on his craziest face, and started swinging at the others who were around. His intent was not to hit, nor to kill with the weapon itself. But they didn’t know that!

They backed away. It didn’t take a trained strategist to know what Dominic’s weapon was capable of.

One of the bandit leaders came down. Instantly, Dominic’s senses zeroed in on him.

He didn’t wear armor, he didn’t even wear the kind of leather plating his fellow brigands did. He was bare-chested, a mountain of a man. He showed no fear of the weapon, despite everything. He didn’t even seem to have a weapon handy.

Despite everything, he knew his opponent was a dangerous man.

---------------------------------------------------

Schlesinger dismounted, ran a few steps and leapt to his mount. He turned the Drool around and started it running down the path. Quickly, though, his eyes and ears told him he was traveling alone. He turned it around. Roth was looking at him with fearful eyes. In a moment, Schlesinger knew what was going on.

“We can’t save him. We have to go now!”
“We can’t let Hooper die!” Roth pleaded.
“Dominic and him can take care of themselves!” Schlesinger said.
“I won’t go unless he’s with us.” Roth flatly stated.
Schlesinger head sunk, and slouched in his saddle. He then looked up at him.

“I could tell you he isn’t worth it, couldn’t I, and that would just encourage you, wouldn’t it?” Schlesinger told him.
“Yeah.” Roth said.
“Well, if you’re willing to help your friend, I’m willing to help mine.” Schlesinger said.

Roth regarded him with sad eyes. He smiled.
“I never liked him. He was Darius’s buddy. But nobody deserves to die out her like that.” The agent said.

Schlesinger smiled.

“Lead the way.” he said.

------------------------------------------------------

Dominic’s opponent began to glint in the sunshine. At first, the agent thought the man had started to sweat, despite the chill in the air and the man’s shirtless attire, but then he realized that the glimmers were not moving.

His skin seemed to redden, but only seemed to, as Dom came to the sickening conclusion that the surface of the man’s skin was mineralizing. The man was growing a layer of rock-like skin. Sandstone, by the looks of it.

Dominic kept the Growler between him and… Well… He decided to call him Rocky.

He didn’t move like he was unused to the added weight. He stalked around carefully, the way a tiger might, shifting his bulk with graceful balance.

Rocky charged him and swung his fist at him.

The impact sent his shield swinging wide, and he stumbled back. Good news and bad news, he sensed. Bad news was, the guy was very strong. The shield probably got dented. Good news? He was strong for a man, but not supernaturally so, and Dominic had survived John. Still, John wasn’t trying to kill him at the time. Dom didn’t like his recovery time.

Rocky just kept on hammering. Dom might have well have been stuck in a garbage can with a bunch of punks hammering on it with baseball bats. Finally, he got pissed off, spun around and smacked the shield across the man’s head.

Rocky staggered to the side, stunned for a moment, but before Dom could collect himself, Rocky landed a punch, denting his body armor. That knocked the wind out of him. The man followed up with a backhand to Dominic’s head that sent him flying. That hurt. It was every bit as bad as one might think on both hits. The man was a trained fighter, and he was covered in dense rock. Smack.

His vision doubled, his ears rung. Dominic clambered his way up along the rocks. With his head messed up, he only just felt the impulses his talent fed him to keep his head and body clear of further blows. The splinters of rock cuts him as they flew by. He rolled clear. He caught sight of a rather unstable rock formation. He knew what to do. He retreated towards it, drawing him on, then struck the column of boulders and debris at its base.

Not too long after he did that, Dominic began to think better of what he had done, because the rock didn’t just drop on his rather tough friend, but started tumbling his way. Again his talent saved his life as ducked and jumped over the falling and flying boulders. He was tired, though, and hurt, and his concentration was enough to keep him ahead of the one that finally smacked him down. He was lucky that it wasn’t of a size to kill him instantly. It merely broke a number of bones.

As he laid there, his breathing labored, he knew he was in trouble. Somewhere in his tumble he had dropped the club? Was it buried? Was it lying around, waiting for an enemy to pick it up? Was is somewhere close, waiting for him to peel himself off the outcrop of stone and get it back?

Did he have any chance of fending off the others?

He thought that was the worst of his problems. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. He knew that when the rock-pile started to move and tremble.

Then HE emerged from it. Dominic thought to himself that he should have known better. Part of the rock-pile came with him. Well crap he said to himself, I’ve made him mad.

Indeed. In Dominic’s condition, ole Rocky seemed ten feet tall. He was probably closer to eight, though, but the long, dark shadow he cast over Agent Leonard would allow little comfort to be taken from any such fact.

---------------------------------------------------

The raging rapids flowed past them as they charged along the cliff’s edge. Their hard charge took them past any number of bandits Schlesinger suspected he’d be fighting on the way out. Having no special talent like his friend, he knew the odd were slim that a confrontation with them would turn out positively. He hoped, of course unaware of Dominic’s rather substantial problems, that he could hook up with his friend and follow his clairvoyant talent out of there.

But first they had to save Hooper.

Those bandit sons of bitches started to interfere. One moved to get in front of him. He slapped him aside with the head of his spear, knocking him against the rocks. Roth wasn’t so luck. Some other brigand stepped out of the labyrinth of stone and impaled his Dogsteed on a large hunting spear. Roth just narrowly avoided being skewered himself, rolling off the poor thing, hitting the ground roughly.

Schlesinger turned around and charged at one of the bandits who came running to attack his friend, couching the spear like a knight’s lance. He hit him squarely, yanked it out, and turning the Drool, swung it at his next opponent with the creature’s momentum behind him. Hitting him with the flat of the spear’s head, the blow knocked the bandit off his feet.

He brought the creature close to where Roth was picking himself off the ground, and offered him a hand up. Roth quickly climbed on. Schlesinger wasted no time charging off down the path.

They tried to interfere. Bandits blocked his way. His Lethjrool went nearly flat to the ground leaning into the turns, weaving in and out of their traps. He jumped a break-fall full of spikes, and dodged a number of arrows and crossbow bolts that were fired at him.

They found a safe place, and dismounted the creature. They ran down a narrow cleft between two rock formations.

“You sure this is where he went?” Schlesinger asked.
“He was here when he told me to wait back where you found me. We thought we saw some bandits up ahead.” Roth said.

The passage narrowed so much they could not stand side by side within it.
Roth led the way. He was going on where he saw Hooper last. In his recollection, a point came up ahead where the cleft ended in an intersection like a T with a third formation ahead. The path widened out, and Hooper had gone around the rocks ahead to explore further. Roth went back at that point.

Roth traveled only a short distance past where he last saw Hooper when he froze. Schlesinger noticed. He looked at Roth’s face and found it blank. Schlesinger looked, and saw the bandits over his friend’s shoulder. Was there a body? There was nothing like that. He saw only the living. Somebody was talking with a fellow of some authority ahead, with gold and silver jewelry and piercings.

Then one of the bandits stepped out from in front of the man he was talking to

Roth grabbed him before he could be sure of who he saw, pulled him into a run.

“What’s going on? Can’t we sneak past them. What’s got you so afraid.?”
“This was a mistake. A terrible mistake. I shouldn’t have come.”
“What’s going on?” Schlesinger screamed.
“It’s him. The fucker’s with them!”

Schlesinger almost threw up when he finally absorbed what Roth was saying.

“We got to get out of here.” Roth stated, the fear and shame choking his voice.

They hurried towards the Dogsteed, but Roth did not remember the way back as well as he thought.

It took a while, but word reached Hooper of the sighting of his two colleagues. The Bandit Chief, Kiktibekus, asked a question with a wry smile on his face that made perfect sense in the light of the events of the last few days. To emphasize the importance he place on the answer, he took out his knife and poked it in Hooper’s belly before Hooper even knew it had been drawn.

“Why do I feel the prickles rise on the back of my neck? Are you going to sacrifice my men here like you did my poor cousin’s? I may be greedy, but I’m not stupid.” Kiktibekus explained.

Hooper looked down at the knife.
“I don’t suppose you are. I’m sorry about your cousin…”
“Why should you be? He probably would have cheated you rotten. He was incompetent. I’m not the fool he is.”
“Truth be told, I panicked. I couldn’t be seen consorting with the likes of you, and not merely because I would dislike the gossip. I can’t rise in my organization if I’m seen to be on the wrong side of the law. Out of curiosity, what did your man tell you?”
“Should interest you. Your friends were spotted near here. They might have even gotten in sight of us. The scouts are reporting that they are lost near the cliffs.” Kiktibekus said.

“Let me go after them. I’ll make sure they aren’t a problem for either of us.” Hooper told him.

Something in Hooper’s eyes convinced the bandit chief that his people didn’t have to worry. Hooper turned around, found his Lethjrool and went off after them.

---------------------------------------------------

The next hit that Dominic took made his chest feel like a burst barrel. The blood dripped from the corner of his mouth leaving a nice trail of blood on the ground. If he thought the hit was bad, the kick that followed was a real treat. It sent him skidding along the ground into a rock wall. Not one of those smooth ones either

Dominic, of course, still had his sword, and if he could have, he would have carved the man up one side and down the other. At this point, though, the best he could have done was break his blade, or at best use the man as an unwitting sword sharpener. That was out, he thought crazily. He’d sharpened the blade yesterday. It wouldn’t be fair of him to impose like that.

He didn’t tense up, expecting the next hit. He had long ago exceeded his daily recommended allowance of hard knocks to the head. Still, he was perplexed at some point that Rocky there had not scored any more blows on him. Or maybe he’d had brain damage in some part of the brain that dealt with time.

No. That wasn’t it. He heard footsteps behind him. He propped himself and looked around from the rock wall.

He did so just in time to see the compact, armored form of a man step between him and that monster. His sight was blurred, so he didn’t get who it was, until that man held out a staff weapon and snapped it open.

“You’ve had your fun with him.” John said.

They were both quick to respond, but there was quick in human terms and quick in Lobanhaki terms. John’s first blow, a sharp, two-handed rap against the man’s collar bone, sent a spray of cracked rock out. The force sent the man down on one knee. He swung a big fist and John and dodged it, leaning back on one hand. With a twist, he then kicked into the back of his opponent’s arm, cracking the stone, then leaping upwards as he swung back low at John’s legs. John landed on his arm, flipped over and grabbed Rocky around the neck, arching his back and flipping the guy over him into a nearby rock wall.

The man’s stony appearance seemed to become grainier as he lost his concentration. The armor no longer covered his entire body. He could only maintain a sandy sort of mixture. John came in and attacked him with both ends of his staff, with Rocky defending with his rock-covered forearms and shins. The weapon sparked and the stone armor chipped and cracked under the onslaught.

John was just playing around with him, though. Suddenly, he swung from underneath, forcing one of his arms high. With a sharp sudden attack, John cracked him across the torso with a powerful hit that sent him flying once more. He was down, this time. His friends came in to attack John.

He pressed a rune and twisted one end of his staff, turning into its Lobanhaki Broadsword form. He took a few quick steps towards a tree and carved right through it with his considerable strength. For added measure, he slapped it with the flat of his blade, knocking it towards them. As it fell, he quickly scrambled up the rocks ahead.

The others turned around, expecting to find Dominic still around, nicely placed and in the right condition for a little payback. No such luck.

While John had occupied their attention, Jake crept in and collected the battered Dominic, he enfolded him in his angelic aura and took off immediately for base. John was then to look for the others.

He would only find one of them.

--------------------------------------------------

Though they didn’t know it, their bandit opponents were herding them towards a dead end, an isolated cliff face over a foaming, cascading river.

They saw Hooper race in on his Dogsteed. He dismounted and approached them. They dismounted, too.

“Roth, I’ve been looking all over for you, what…”

He was stopped short by their bitter stares.

“What are you, Terrance? What deal did you make with them?”

He thought for a moment about telling them that he had been forced to beg for his survival. He could even show them the little knife-prick where Kiktebekus had poked him making his point earlier. He reconsidered. They had probably seen too much already.

“That, old friend, is none of your business.” Hooper said.

CRACK! A bolt hit Roth in the midsection, knocking him back towards the edge. Another sent him off it.

“You bastard!” Schlesinger said, coming at him, swinging his spear. The blade cut a furrow from collarbone to hip, shallow but bloody. Hooper’s step back was most of what saved him from a deeper injury. Still, it surprised him. He sent a weak bolt into Schlesinger that did little to stop him, but got him to drop that Aucethabi spear.

They struggled, Hooper giving his jolts, Schlesinger punching and wrestling at him. Giving up on just zapping him, Hooper took and few more punches to the face.

He smiled, laughed. Schlesinger froze, then scowled as he reared back for another punch.

Hooper seized him and pumped the electricity through him. When he let go, Schlesinger flew back.
Deliberately, step by step, Hooper summoned bolts and blasted him backwards towards the cliff’s edge.

Finally, he walked up to Schlesinger, whose clothes were burnt and smoking from the blasts he had received. “Tell your friend Dominic, when you see him, that Zarrach sends his regards.”

Schlesinger’s eyes just had time to widen before Hooper’s last bolt sent him into the raging waters fifty feet below.

When he turned to the Lethjrool, he was grinning. The great creature cowered before him, whining. He laughed as he killed it, too. When he was done, he pushed it over the edge, and lay down on the rock.

John didn’t take long to find him, and when he did, Hooper had quite a story to tell.

---------------------------------------------------

Dominic awoke feeling very groggy. His skin felt a little tight. He looked at his arms, the wiry muscle standing out more than ever. He felt his face, and there was a lack of reassuring softness there. Sarah looked up from a book she was reading. She noticed his confusion.

“That Elemental Mage almost killed you. Broken ribs, broken skull, broken- well, you get the point. Those were serious injuries, and you can’t fix something for nothing.” She explained.

“So…” he started.
“So there is a limit to how badly you can get hurt on my watch and survive, when I’m not using my angelic talents. If you don’t have the internal reserves to get better, it’s not fat that’s going to be burned, it’s going to be muscle and marrow. And that will eventually kill you.” She clarified.

John and Jake came in, Rachel following them.
“We need to have a serious talk with you. You went out after them and put yourself and all these people in danger. What Hooper did was worse, but what you did little better.” John said, chastising him.
“I was just following where my talent was leading me.”
“That’s no excuse. Talents can’t just be used with disregard for the rules for the situation at hand. We can’t bring back the people we just lost.”
“I didn’t feel as if I had a choice. It just… Just lost? Who got killed?”
“Hooper told us Schlesinger and Roth are dead.” John told him.

Even if he hadn’t been starving from the toll Sarah’s power had taken on him, the pit of his stomach would have felt hollow.
“I… I told them to return. I told those fools to go right back to the camp. I took on that bastard to give them the chance to get away!” He lashed out angrily. Then just as quickly, the tears came pouring out.

Jake put a hand on his shoulder.
“The talent. It lead you to them. You thought they were in danger. But you can’t do everything. You can’t beat everyone. And you can’t force people not to put themselves in danger.” He told him.
“Is that right?” Dominic answered hollowly.

He looked up at him.

“It was like I was called to be there, called to do what I did. I felt I was swimming in a river and the current was at my back. The worst part is that I think my failure was meant to happen, too.” Dominic said, quiet and bewildered.

Jake and John exited, and discussed things outside.
“Was it just me, Jake, or did the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, too?” John asked.

Jake had felt the chill himself. For Jake, the nature of what Dominic described was very familiar. It was a description of the way the divine power of a Cherub flowed through him, the peace, yet chaos that came with being one of God’s agents of chaos.

“It’s too soon to understand what his part is in this. But this scares me worse than anything Hooper’s said so far. Or not said.

The story Hooper had given was a shameful one. He told them that he had brought Roth into the wilderness trying to spy out some enemies he had seen near camp. Like an idiot, he said, he accidentally gave himself away. In the ensuing fight, Schlesinger and Roth had been killed. He had not realized that Dominic had pursued him, he said, but it explained the unexpected appearance of the young FBI agent at Roth’s side.

Hooper, being healed for a rather bloody cut across his torso, reached up and grabbed on to his arm, apologizing. John stood there for a moment, absorbing his confessions, and very deliberately removed Hooper’s hand from his arm.

“You’re lucky, Agent Hooper, that my mission prevents me from taking steps to remove your sorry existence. If you try to apologize to me again, though, I will send you to apologize to Roth and Schlesinger in person.”

Hooper, for his part, felt a tremor of fear move through his body at the tone in John’s voice. If his cover was ever blown, he did not want to be anywhere near Captain Taylor.

Taylor, for his part, could hear things in Hooper’s voice that Hooper himself could not perceive. Hooper was lying about something. Unfortunately for what would follow, Taylor could not conceive that Hooper was lying about the deaths. Rather, he suspected that Hooper’s intentions had been to stall their progress along the road.

-------------------------------------------------

Done with his little performance and an indifferent healing by Dr. Cordell, Hooper made his way down towards his part of camp. He was struck by the hostile stares he got from his fellow agents. He considered that he had perhaps overextended himself. He was going to need to mend some fences with them, if he wanted to remain undercover. No matter, he had done this before.

He was not prepared for Agent Silver’s response.

His freshly healed back was freshly bruised as Silver bashed him into a tree.
“You killed him. You son of a bitch! Why’d you lose him? Why’d you let that happen?” He said, his face miserable, angry, sorrowful.
“You knew the risks. You can’t just…”

He brought him close, and fiercely whispered, “Just what? Nobody was supposed to get killed, especially not one of our own.”

“It was a risky plan. You knew it. You signed on to it. It’s a sad thing, but it’s going to save lives.” Hooper told him.
“The bandits are on the move. You’ve brought them on to us. More of us will be killed. What does all this shit matter?”

“You’ve bought into their bullshit. You’re letting them—“

He opened up, yelling at him.
“Letting them what? I heard about what Dominic did, the beating he took to protect Roth. Where were you when he needed him, you coward? We’re through!”

Silver actually had the balls to say that to him, after all he had done. In that moment, Hooper would have exposed him to everybody there. But that would mean exposing himself, and at a point where he was more likely to be on the receiving end of frontier justice than Silver.

Hooper decided then and there to remove Silver as a problem, to make sure that the disaster that would befall Dominic would find Silver as well.

He returned to SAC Green’s tent, and as expected, Green was no more receptive than Silver was.

“Agent Silver is probably going to throw in his lot with Dominic’s faction. At this point, I wouldn’t blame people for it. Our leadership has brought them difficulty and death. We’re going to have to figure out ways to suppress Dominic’s influence in the FBI when we leave this world, because here he’s going to be a hero.”

“Heroes die, too.” Hooper said to him.
“Hooper—”
“Roth and Schlesinger were not accidents. They were sacrifices of necessity.” Hooper said.

“Oh my God. Are you insane?”
“I am a servant of Gideon. He’s begun to wonder whether you are one yourself, or just a con-man riding his coattails” Hooper asked him bluntly.

Hooper picked up an apple and began peeling it.
“They will not be the last, though. All these people are meant to be fodder for the master’s armies. You’ve done a lot with the Elohim to make this more difficult to manage. I was sent to make sure that things went ahead as planned, and that misplaced loyalties did not get in the way. I thought you would understand what had to be done, but apparently, our master never trusted you to know the difference.” Hooper told him.

“I won’t let you get away with this.” Hooper said.
“Sure you will. Gideon’s told me all about you. You expose me, I expose you. And I? I’ll tell them that I was a subordinate, a protégé forced by his boss into an unsavory arrangement. With luck, I’ll make a full conversion to the side of right and take your place.” He told him, smiling.

“You’re going to take my place anyways.” Green told him.
“Of course I am. If you cooperate, though, you could retire, and put this side of your life aside. I’m sure Gideon could arrange a nice, safe job for you in the beltway.” Green told him.

“I won’t be a party to all this. You’ll have to kill me before I’d let that happen.” Green said.

Hooper wondered. Was Green getting a pair, too?

“You’ve done worse before, haven’t you? Wasn’t it you who sent that first platoon of soldiers into the Cambodian Temple, knowing they would be killed? How many agents have you allowed to disappear, have you sacrificed in the name of our cause? I’m sure you can justify this to yourself. You always have.”

SAC Green lowered his head in defeat.

“What’s the plan, Agent Hooper?”