Fates' Folly (27 page)

Dark greenish gray shadows surrounded his
eyes, and lines of red welts marred his left cheek. I glanced down
at a still unmoving Mrs. Crowell- at her hands bound in torn cloth,
her crooked fingers and broken nails- and did my best to swallow
the guilt that was caught in my throat.

Barty's arm rubbed against my shoulder as he
stepped in front of me. "You do not look well, Seb."

Sebastian gave a sickly chuckle. "As always
my friend, you are gifted at stating the obvious. No, I do not look
well. I am not well." He let out a high maniacal laugh. "I am
dying," he said, tears streaking down his face as his laugh
suddenly, erratically became wheezing sobs. "After all this time,
finally, when I am at my most powerful, The Fates grant me an end
to my immortal life."

He let go of Mrs. Crowell's head using the
back of his hand and his sleeve to wipe the tears from his face,
and then, with a sickening tenderness that made me shiver, he
looked down at the old crone and began to comb his filthy fingers
through her neat little rows of white curls. Sebastian crooned,
"They are forever cruel, The Fates, especially in the destruction
of mortal lives."

I felt a weight against my chest and looked
down to see that it was Barty's arm wrapped around me, holding me
back. Only then did I realize I had started forward.

When Sebastian spoke, my throat tightened and
my stomach churned. I had a brief thought of what Mrs. Crowell
would think of me hurling all over her pink shag carpet when I
felt, more than heard, the air around me change to signify
someone's shift into the room.

"Good afternoon, Myra, Bartholomew, Evelyn,
Sebastian. Sorry I'm late," Peter politely remarked from the
carnation pink winged back chair, identical and adjacent to the one
Mrs. Crowell was sitting in.

Sebastian pulled the knife flat against Mrs.
Crowell's throat, angling the curve of the blade against her jaw.
"Don't come near me, Peter. I won't give him back."

Peter leaned forward, tugging the hem of Mrs.
Crowell's shorts down over her knobby blue veined knees. "You can
slice the woman to millions of pieces, it doesn't matter to me. I
can easily put her back again, and she will never know anything of
it." He leaned back into the chair, straightening his own pants leg
and cardigan while he continued in his pleasantly mild voice, "I
was just telling…" he tapped an index finger to his lip a few times
and then shrugged, "someone, how bored I've been. In fact, I
haven't seen a good slaying since the Celts were warring." He
looked at Barty. "I believe, not since you held the blade,
Bartholomew.”

Barty grimaced. "Other than not having a god
to blame for my sins, I do not believe my actions have been any
different than any Christian soldier."

Peter raised his hand, as if in surrender.
"You misunderstand me. I am not judging you. After all, until you
ask for forgiveness, how could I?"

Barty let go of me and took a step toward
Peter. "Don't start, Peter. I have been judged and am serving my
punishment. You cannot give me, nor do I want, your forgiveness.
Sebastian is not your responsibility, either. You should
leave."

Peter stood up, and for a second I swear his
eyes flashed in anger, but when he spoke his tone of voice, though
not much louder than a whisper, only held the vaguest interest. "If
you only asked, I could see that you were given absolution. You
could have peace." He put both of his hands in his pockets and
smiled. "You are correct about one thing, Sebastian is not my
responsibility. However, the soul he is carrying is."

We all looked at Sebastian.

"No! No! You cannot have him!" he screamed,
the knife slicing into Mrs. Crowell's neck.

I gagged as blood started trickling down her
throat.

"Sebastian, loosen your hold!" Barty ordered
sharply.

Sebastian, surprisingly, obeyed. He moved the
curved blade so it was again flat against Mrs. Crowell's neck, no
longer cutting into her skin.

"What now?" I whispered to Barty.

But it was Sebastian who answered. "We wait.
Caisus should be here soon."

"Yes," Barty said, stepping further in front
of me and away from Peter, who had sat back down on the pink chair.
"You, Riley and I can settle this matter, Sebastian. You say The
Fates have granted you freedom. Let Riley and me help you. There is
no reason to harm this old woman and risk any more of the Christian
God's wrath. You know Peter will put things right, but it won't
change the consequences he will place on you for acting out such
cruelty. Let the old woman and the soul go. Let us help you."

Sebastian looked down at Mrs. Crowell and
sniveled. "It's just a nick. She couldn't even see me." He smirked.
"Didn't stop her from fighting me though."

"The poor woman, no wonder she's frozen in
fright, she had no idea what was happening to her," Peter said.

"I didn't do it on purpose," Sebastian
snapped. "I couldn't help it. I've lost all corporeal form, except
to believers.”

He leaned sideways, so I could see his face
beyond Barty who was still standing between us. My head tilted
slightly, mirroring his movements. He smiled a sickly grin. "Like
our lovely Myra. She can see me. Can't you, sweet girl?"

I guess Riley was right, and he couldn't tell
I was immortal. He was going to be pissed once he found out and
realized he'd wasted time trying to take my soul. I looked over at
Mrs. Crowell. Blood was still slowly oozing from her neck. She was
probably taking anti-clotting medicine and was going to bleed to
death while we stood here chit-chatting. Then, of course, the bank
would take the house, and I'd lose my apartment and be homeless
because no one in Dempsey would rent to a murderess. They may not
know the actual events, but I'm the only tenant presently in
residence, so in small town logic that means I killed her.

"Myra? I said, you can see me, yes?"
Sebastian asked again.

If I didn't at least try and prevent her
death, in a way I would be responsible. Besides, I really loved my
apartment

"Yes, I can see you, and I'll do whatever you
want as long as you let Mrs. Crowell go."

All at once- or at least only seconds apart-
Barty sucked in a breath, Peter laughed and Sebastian leaped around
Barty, grabbing my arm. Barty grabbed my other arm as I heard Riley
yell my name from behind me, and I felt the painful, although
familiar, rearranging of my body's cells that told me we were
shifting. Where I was shifting to, or who I was actually shifting
with, I had no clue.

***

"Oh, crap. That hurts," I yelled- because if
I'm yelling it doesn't hurt quite so bad. I looked around, shakily
getting to my feet. My vision was blurred, making me feel
disoriented and a little woozy, but not enough that I didn't
recognize where we were.

I was standing next to my front door, my
discarded school bag lying haphazardly at my feet. I turned to
Barty who was standing in front of me. "What the hell? It took like
forever, and we only moved upstairs to my apartment! I could have
walked faster and without my kidneys feeling like they'd been
squeezed through a juicer, thank you very much."

Barty gave me a shove, and I fell back
against the wall. "Shut up and stay still," he whispered, pushing
me into a sitting position with another shove.

"What the hell?" I yelled.

Barty had already started walking away from
me, but he turned around, and even with my screwed up vision, I
could see he was giving me one of his creepy grins which usually
preceded me being thrown on my ass. So I stayed where I was for a
few seconds before I followed him over to the couch where Sebastian
was sitting, bent over with his head between his knees.

Barty leaned over Sebastian's huddled form,
speaking quietly. I couldn't hear what he had said, but suddenly
Sebastian stood up. Barty stepped back, placing a hand on
Sebastian's shoulder. Well, that was what it looked like he
intended to do, but apparently Sebastian had other plans. In a
burst of movement, he twisted to his right, and then, like a taut
spring, he quickly twisted back with a backward fist to the side of
Barty's head. The blow sent Barty stumbling into my orange
chair.

"Trainer Extraordinaire," Sebastian sneered.
"You'll always only be a filthy Celt to me."

I made my way over to the orange chair just
as Barty stood, his hands fisted and his shoulders rounded forward-
he looked bigger, bulkier and a hell of a lot meaner.

Barty took a step toward Sebastian. The
anticipation of violence hung so heavily in the air, I almost
closed my eyes. Barty took another step forward and then stopped,
leaning with all his weight on his right leg. His fists balled
tighter as he rocked forward again, but he didn't move. It was like
his left foot was caught or stuck to the floor. His body lurched to
the right and he stepped back and then, swinging his shoulders
forward, he tried to move towards Sebastian again. I could see his
body strain- the muscles in his neck and arms bulged, his veins
swelling, but nothing happened.

It was almost comical. I would have laughed
if Sebastian's crazed cackle wasn't already sucking all the humor
out of the situation.

"The calamities of duty, eh Bartholomew?"
Sebastian said.

Barty took a deep breath, made another failed
attempt to move forward and then, with a mumbled curse, stepped
back, panting, his hands still clenched in fists at his sides.

"What is it? Why can't you move against him?"
I asked, ignoring Sebastian's continued shrieks of laughter.

"Riley was given the order to capture or
execute Sebastian, not I," Barty said, looking depressed.

"But you were just standing over him not five
minutes ago. What changed that you can't even get within six feet
of him now?" I asked.

"He hadn't intended to kill me when he was
leaning over me, only noble intentions of wanting to help poor
little ole me. Until I insulted his precious heritage," Sebastian
said, pausing to laugh some more. "Now that he wants to end my
life, an act that only Riley was given permission to do, he
can't."

I had a foul name on the tip of my tongue for
Sebastian, but before I could say anything, my front door crashed
open. Riley, the force that opened my door in such an extreme
fashion, thundered into the room, giant gold sword in hand. He gave
me a look that asked everything okay? I gave him a look back that
said nice sword and then he replied by stepping in front of me and
slashing it through the air a few times before he said, "Sebastian,
I am to collect you and bring you before Hades to await his
judgment."

"Where is Peter?" I whispered to Riley's
back.

"Downstairs. He is duty bound to care for
Mrs. Crowell. It should take twenty- two minutes," Riley whispered
back, still staring down Sebastian.

I moved to stand beside Riley. “How do you
know how long it will take?" I asked, still whispering.

"Because that is what Peter told me. He would
not have lied."

"Why would he give that information to you?
Wouldn't it hinder his plans to capture Sebastian?"

"He wants to see how things play out."

"Did he tell you this, too?"

Riley turned away from glaring at Sebastian
to glare down at me. "Yes. Now could I please finish my
apprehension?"

"Sure," I said.

"Sebastian, give up your weapon. Let me bring
you before Hades to await his judgment," Riley said.

I looked over at Sebastian.

When had he pulled out his knife?

Riley repeated himself, "Let me bring you
before Hades to await his judgment."

Sebastian threw the curved knife in the air,
and with the flair of a circus performer, he caught it, the hole in
the handle spinning on his index finger. "You will always be a
pawn, won't you, Riley- pushed this way and that, moved around and
sacrificed at the gods' whims," Sebastian said, spinning his knife,
catching it briefly in the palm of his hand, then spinning it
again. "Your whole existence is a farce. Master Assassin, master
puppet."

"I really don't want to fight you,
Sebastian."

Sebastian grinned. "Afraid?"

Riley flexed his wrist, moving the ornate
sword in an arc. "You are weak, and your blade is puny. It will be
a disappointment for me."

"Hardly," Sebastian said, stepping
forward.

Riley's only response was to shove me toward
the balcony doors. "Stay," he grunted at me before dodging
Sebastian's attack, and doing something in return that made a loud
cracking sound and sent Sebastian stumbling.

I didn't know what Riley was so worried
about, I was not an idiot. I knew nothing of fighting except what
Barty had taught me, and I sure as hell wasn't going to try to use
those minuscule skills against a crazed, knife wielding
lunatic.

Of course, even if I had wanted to get
involved, it wouldn't have mattered because as soon as my back hit
the French doors, Barty was beside me with one of his long arms
stretched in front of me.

Riley and Sebastian were not pretty to watch.
It was not an artistic display of strength and skill by two ancient
warriors. It was brutal and messy, and from the sounds alone, I
wanted to throw up.

Riley didn't lash out with his sword as I
expected. Instead, he used it as a shield, deflecting the crazy
twists and turns Sebastian made with his knife while pounding
Sebastian's face with his fist and elbows. It didn't seem to be a
bad plan either, Sebastian looked rough, his face swollen and
bloody, a large cut above his eyebrow steadily seeping blood.

Though Riley didn't look much better- his
face wasn't bloody, but his arms, legs, stomach and chest were
covered with red slashes from Sebastian's knife, and twice he
stumbled when Sebastian managed to cut the back of his knee.