RIDERS OF TUATHA by Bert McKenzie Copyright 2010
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any real person alive or dead is coincidental and unintentional.
CHAPTER XIII
The four of them stepped into the garage and pulled the doors closed. Scott flipped the switch, illuminating the room by turning on the strip of fluorescent bulbs mounted on an overhead beam. The light revealed the spilled box, pots and pans lying about on the floor. "What is all this?" Scott asked.
"I was storing some of your things out here," Jennifer admitted. "When I moved in I didn't know where to put everything." She bent down to try and pick up some of the clutter. Caseldra immediately began to help her. Meanwhile, Rood and Scott began to move some of the larger cartons away from the back wall. Once a space had been cleared, the gateway to the other world was revealed.
The rope was still tied to the metal hook on the wall. It dropped down to the floor and snaked off to the back wall of the carriage house. Rood was the only one who was not surprised by what was revealed there. Where before had stood a wooden wall, now there was only a large, dark circle of blackness. The wooden sides of the building just seemed to disappear at the edges of the dark hole in the back of the structure. The rope threaded up and into the well of darkness, disappearing at its perimeter.
"I can't believe this," Jennifer gasped. "It really is magic!"
"Let us go bring Elnar back to this world," Rood suggested. "He may then be able to assist us in determining when Robin will arrive, and in locating your missing friend as well."
"You stay here," Scott instructed Jennifer. "We won't be long."
"You're not going in there?" she asked incredulously.
"We're going to get someone who can help us. I'll be right back."
"Scott, please don't leave," she asked as she began to tremble. The fear of being left alone seemed to hit hard. In the back of her mind she thought that someone might come back for her again. Whoever took Troy might still want her.
Caseldra could see her agitation. "I shall stay here," she volunteered, stepping over to Jennifer and putting her arm around her. "Go quickly and bring my father. I am sure he will be able to help."
"Okay," Scott agreed and turned to the tall guard. Rood bent down and picked up the rope. He played it through his hands as he walked forward. Lifting his leg, he stepped over the edge of the wall and into the circle of darkness. As his body plunged into the hole, it disappeared and the blackness swallowed him like someone being submerged in a pool of ink. Once Rood was completely gone, only the rope dangling from the hole moved and danced to prove that he still existed elsewhere.
Scott picked it up and giving the two women a reassuring wink, turned and stepped into the darkness. His foot felt like it was pressing against a tightly stretched sheet of rubber. Try as he might, it would not go into the black circle. He reached his hand out to push forward, but encountered the same resistance. "I can't get through," Scott said as he dropped the rope and leaned with all his weight against the darkness. It reacted by pushing back with an equal force. "I don't get it," he complained.
"Perhaps this passage will only permit my people to travel so," Caseldra suggested as she and Jennifer approached the barrier. She reached out her hand and it disappeared into the inky circle.
"Let's test that," Scott said and then spoke to Jennifer. "Hold your hand out," he instructed. At first she drew back, but then seeing no harm come to Caseldra, Jennifer reached out. Her arm also disappeared into the blackness. "I guess it's only me," Scott said, trying to understand why he could not cross the void. He again reached out and again encountered the forceful resistance.
"I shall go, my lord, and explain this curiosity," Caseldra suggested. "Please tell Jennifer that I shall only be gone a short time and that I shall return." She gave Jennifer a quick hug as Scott translated, then she picked up the rope and stepped into the darkness, quickly being swallowed up and disappearing from view.
Jennifer and Scott stood and waited for a while, but nothing happened. After about fifteen minutes, Jennifer looked around and found some camp stools. They sat down to await the return of their friends.
"So what's going on with you and Caseldra?" Scott finally asked. "The two of you seemed awfully chummy."
"She's very sweet," Jennifer replied and looked blankly back at him. Scott simply raised an eyebrow. She suddenly realized what he was suggesting. "Get your mind out of the gutter," she protested. "She saved my life when that man . . . that man. . ." The tears began to brim in her eyes again.
"Jen, I'm sorry," Scott apologized quickly. "I didn't mean anything."
"You did so," she said, wiping her eyes with the back of the sleeve on her sweatshirt. "You know I'm straight. We've just grown very close."
"It's okay," he said and started to add something but thought better of it.
"What?" she asked.
"You may be straight, but I'm not so sure about her," he said, jerking his thumb toward the darkness at the end of the room. "I've seen the way she looks at you. And she sure has been very protective."
"She's just being a good friend," Jennifer told him. She then looked back over at the black circle. "What's taking them so long?"
"Maybe it's just the time between our worlds," Scott suggested. He tried to explain to her how time was relative and seemed to flow at different speeds in the two places. He then suggested that they go back to the house assuring her that it would be a waste of time to just sit and stair at the wall.
"What if they return and we aren't here?" she asked.
"They'll find us," he told her.
"What are you doing?" the fat man asked as he looked down at the bloody body chained to the table.
"I'm just doing an experiment with salt water," Lars explained. "First I make a shallow cut in the skin, then I spray it with this mixture to see the reaction."
"And what have you learned so far?" the fat man questioned.
"I get a bigger reaction in some places than I do in others," Lars answered. "You want to see?" He picked up a scalpel from the work bench, then turned to reach toward the groin area.
"Perhaps later," his corpulent companion replied. "I came down to see how our alien was doing." The two walked over to the end of the room and pulled back the makeshift curtain. Robin sat cross legged on the cement floor, his eyes closed and his hands resting on his long legs. The blue stripes from the whip were still evident on his pale skin.
"He's been sitting like that for a long time," Lars said. "He wouldn't drink any of the water I put in there."
"Well, the doctor will be here tomorrow. And by the way, I want you to hide your play thing over there before he comes." The fat man indicated the gory sight on the table by the work bench.
"But Tony . . ." Lars began.
"It wouldn't do to frighten the doctor off," Tony said sternly. "Besides, it looks as if he's near death anyway. You might as well finish him off this evening. We'll be moving once the doctor picks up our prize."
"Okay," Lars agreed sullenly. He and Tony stepped back to the other part of the basement, pulling the curtain closed behind them.
Robin opened his eyes and leaned forward, getting as close as he dared to the iron bars. He listened intently and heard the fat man wheezing and puffing his way back upstairs. He then heard a number of unusual metallic sounds followed by a low painful moan. Over the past day Troy's cries had become weaker and weaker. Robin knew the end was near if help did not arrive soon. Yet he could think of no help that would come. He remembered the images of the pool, of Scott trapped in a burning building. For all he knew, his lover may be dead already. He could only hope that he would be able to get out of this cage and get his hands around the throat of the one called Lars. He wanted to make the big man feel as much pain and fear as he had inflicted on Troy.
It was late evening before anyone returned from the carriage house. Scott and Jennifer were sitting in the drawing room, waiting in silence when they heard the back door opening. Jennifer jumped in fear and Scott closed the book he was reading. They then heard a familiar voice call out from the kitchen. "My lord, my lady, we have returned."
"In here," Scott called back and Caseldra entered the room followed by a contingent of armed men. Scott greeted them all as friends and began introducing them to Jennifer. She had already met Rood. Now she was introduced to Melcot and Akuta, both tall and blond, resembling the guard she knew. She also met Clive. He was much shorter, being dwarfed by his companions, and had a much darker complexion and deep, chocolate brown colored hair. His armor, breast plate and chain mail suit bagged around his smaller frame, having been designed for a bigger man. But what struck her as the greatest difference was the quick, almost jerkiness with which Clive moved. Where the others seemed calm, he appeared to be the picture of nervous excitement barely contained. When she had a moment she asked Scott why the one looked so different from the others. After all, weren't they all fairies?
"Clive is a wood elf," Scott explained. "The others are the high born elves. It's kind of like our different races."
Looking at the assembled party, Scott noticed that Elnar was not with them. "He could not come," Caseldra explained sadly. "He said he created the spell from our world. For the spell's creator to travel through an opening of this kind, it would pull the spell in on itself and sever the gateway all together."
"Then we can't expect him to find Troy," Scott said.
"It is worse than that, my lord," Melcot told him. "Elnar said that if you were unable to cross the barrier it could only mean one thing. Robin is already in this land. And since the spell was designed to open close to his point of entry and he is not here . . . we can only know that he must be in trouble somewhere in this world."
The image of Robin behind bars, his body torn and bleeding came unbidden to Scott's mind. He felt a catch in his throat as the bottom fell out of his stomach. "We've got to find him," he said, "before . . ."
"But how?" Rood asked. "Where shall we begin?"
"I don't know, but I'll find a way."
One last anguished scream ripped the air of the confined basement. Robin felt the release as he sat in meditation. He knew the end had finally come, and although the curtain blocked his vision, he knew the end must have been horribly gruesome. He raised to a semi-kneeling position and made the Tuathan gesture of prayer. "May you be at peace now," he wind whispered to the body beyond the curtain. "And may you return again soon to those who love you." He then softly began keening the song for the departed.
He was a third of the way through when the curtain was yanked aside. He looked up to see Lars standing before him, the white lab coat he wore now spattered with blood. "You know he's dead, don't you?" the man asked. Robin glared at him, hatred burning in his green eyes. "If it weren't for Tony I'd do the same to you," the man taunted. Robin never stopped his song for a moment, but only continued to stare at the man.
"I don't think I like that noise you're making," he said and quickly reached through the bars to grab Robin's long hair and yank forward. Robin fell toward the sadist, his face and torso striking against the metal. Lars laughed gleefully at the sizzling sound as the cold metal seared dark burn marks into the tender flesh. Robin cried out involuntarily. Lars released him and he pulled back away from the cage. Robin slowly got back onto his knees and looking warily at the big Scandinavian, he resumed the song. "I told you to stop that," Lars said, the smile fading from his face. He reached in again to grab at Robin, but this time the fairy was prepared. He moved like lightning, darting his hands up quickly and seizing Lars' arm. He deftly applied quick pressure, jerking it the opposite direction from the joint, and neatly snapping the bones in his forearm. Lars screamed in pain and pulled back away from the cage, pulling out his broken arm.
"What's going on here?" Tony demanded as he waddled up from behind.
"That thing broke my arm," Lars gasped through tears of pain as he cradled his broken limb.
Tony reached out and struck the big man across the face with the back of his hand. "You deserve worse," he said. "I told you to stay away from him. Now go see Clarissa. Have her call a doctor." Lars turned and headed across the room to the door. "And Lars," Tony called after him in a sweet tone. "Hurry back and clean up that mess," he said, pointing to Troy's body. "Remember, we have clients who want the head." The tall man turned to go through the door and up the stairs.
"Now, it's just us, Mr. Spock," the fat man said to Robin. "I don't know if you can understand me or not, but I'll tell you anyway. Lars just killed your friend over there. He disemboweled him. And the two girls and the guy from that big house . . . Clarissa set fire to the building they were in and made sure that they didn't come out. They're all dead except for you," he laughed and leaned down toward the cage.
Robin lunged at him, reaching through the bars to grab at the fat neck. But Tony managed to jump back just out of reach and Robin again came in contact with the iron. It again burned into his skin, causing him to jerk back. Tony laughed loudly at his pain. "So you do understand me," he said. "That's good. That means you'll understand everything the doctor has planned for you." He turned and waddled across the room to the door.
Robin sat back in the cage and felt the despair wash over him. He kept replaying the image of Scott in the burning building. He again began the song for the departed, this time adding his own name to the names of his friends.
"What about Roger?" Jennifer asked.
"That little queen? What about him?" Scott came back.
"Well, he always bragged about his connections with the world of magic. Maybe he really knows some of the people who can point us to the black magic cults around here. They may be able to tell us where Troy and Robin are."
Scott thought for a moment, then translated her suggestion for the others. "It's a long shot, but it's worth a try."
"Where find we this Roger?" Rood asked.
"At this time of night he'll be only one place, the Pink Collar," Scott said.
"What is that?" Rood questioned him.
"It's a . . ." There was no Tuathan equivalent for 'gay bar.' "It's a social place for lots of reversals."
"If that is where he is to be found, then we must go there," Rood said.
"Now wait a minute," Scott interrupted this line of thought. "I can go there, and maybe even Jennifer, but not you."
"Why not?" the tall, handsome guard asked.
"Because . . ." He didn't know how to explain it. Rood walking into a gay bar would be like dangling a raw steak in front of a school of piranha. "For one thing, you don't speak the language."
Akuta beamed a bright smile and pulled out a vial from his tunic. "This will take but a moment." He poured a thin, oily liquid out into his palm and dipped his finger in it, quickly anointing the spot directly behind each of Rood's ears. He then dipped his finger again in the glistening oil and touched it to Rood's lips. He proceeded to pour more oil into his hand and moved on to the other fairies, finishing up with himself.
"You were saying I speak not the language," Rood said in perfect English.
"But I thought . . . you didn't . . ." Jennifer began in obvious confusion.
"My lady," Caseldra said to her, placing her hand on Jennifer's arm, "the chrism of communication makes this possible by giving us the semblance of your words." Jennifer looked at her new friend in wonder.
"Jennifer," Scott said. "They want to know why they can't go to a gay bar."
She smiled back at him. "Well, for one thing they are dressed a little strangely." The men all looked at each other. "Come on," she said, heading out of the room. "Scott has plenty of clothes that ought to fit you." Scott fell heavily into a chair as she led the four men upstairs.
"Is this 'gay bar' a very dangerous place?" Caseldra asked. "Fear not for them, my lord. They are strong warriors."
Scott tried to explain the situation to her. "The Pink Collar is really more of a meat market."
"They sell food there?" she asked.
"No. What I mean is, other reversals go there to pick up guys."
"Is this a courtship ritual, the lifting of men?"
Scott could see he needed to be much more specific. "People will assume that since they are there, they too are reversals and that they are looking for mates."
"So only single men go to this place," Caseldra said.
"No, some go in couples," he admitted.
"Then I have the perfect solution."
A few minutes later, the gang of elves was ready to go, dressed to party in Scott's shirts and pants. Clive, on the other hand, was much too small to wear anything from Scott's closet. He had to make do with a pair of Jennifer's jeans and a silk, embroidered blouse. It was the most masculine thing she had. "Now remember," Caseldra instructed them. "You two are a bonded pair," she said to Melcot and Clive, "and you two are a pair," she told Akuta and Rood. "Stray not from one another in this place or you may be lifted by a human."
Jennifer gave Scott a curious look as he called for a cab.