DISCLAIMER:  Indiana Jones belongs to George Lucas.  Methos and the concept of Immortality belong to Rysher.  The Legacy and the head Precept belong to the Scifi channel.  The X-Men belong to Marvel Entertainment.

Hawaii, Victoria, all members of the Legacy, and all other unmentioned Immortals belong to Johanna.  Illinois and Whitney belong to the Maverick.  All other unmentioned characters are co-owned by Johanna and the Maverick.  Please do not borrow without permission.

Note: This takes place in Johanna's timeline after "Forever Divided."  Rated PG-13 for language and violence

The Family Tree:

Indiana Jones is all well and good, but there is no mention of a family anywhere, except of course, for his father. So here is our twist: Indy's father had a younger sister, who marries a guy with the last name of Smith.  They both have a son and daughter.  The son marries and has a child: William Smith.  Indy's female cousin also marries and has her own daughter: Eva Davids.  They are both cousins and are also second cousins with Indiana Jones, famous archeologist.

Our Distinguished Heroes:

Illinois "Illy" Smith, Paleontologist - Illinois Smith's real name is William Edward Smith. As a child, young Billy became fascinated with stories of his famous archaeologist cousin, Indiana Jones. Deciding that archaeology was too tame for his fighting blood, Billy, at the ripe old age of sixteen, decided to become a paleontologist. Though he is very intelligent and creative, young Billy was a loner. His brain and good looks isolate him from other kids his age. Time flew by, and Billy graduated from both high school and college. His teachers complained that though the child was gifted, he needed to apply himself more. His school records show him as an average student and typical college loner. How he became a professor at a college in Illinois was beyond his absentminded parents, who by this time had nearly forgotten that they actually had a son. His cousin Indiana dubbed him "Illinois" when older Billy decided to take the tenure offered to him. Indy's reasoning was that any college that wanted Billy as a professor was good enough for Illy, as he came to be known in the family, to be named after. Indy also thought it humorous that Illy picked a place to live that was so far away from his parents. Quotes Illy, "Why does it matter where I live, my folks are always somewhere farther away, anyway," spoken with his natural sense of humor. Blessed not only with humor, Illy is also quite handsome. He has sandy brown hair, brown eyes the color of melted chocolate, and stands at six-foot one. Illy loves nature, horseback rides, Tommy Lee Jones movies, and reading classic literature. Illy is a fun-loving guy by nature, too.  He has no real enemies, save the evil Buddhist monk Sam. However Illy is cautious, so he does carry a Glock 40, which is on his personage at all times when he is on a site or traveling. One brief note: Illy is semi-involved with a woman, one W. A. V. Mackenzie. She is mysterious, and Illy is reluctant to bring her up in conversations.

Hawaii "Wai" Davids, Anthropologist - Born Eva Davids in New York City in 1967, but dragged around the world with her historian parents, Hawaii quickly became used to adventure.  After graduating from Jordan College in Oxford with honors and a major in anthropology and minors in both forensic pathology and criminology, she accepted a teaching position at the University of Hawaii, and is the youngest professor in residence.  This leaves her free to study her favorite cultures, the Polynesians of the Pacific, and the Native Americans of both American continents.  She also has an interest in all things Celtic.  Hawaii has sun streaked brown hair, sea-blue eyes, and stands 5 foot 6 inches with the body of a dancer or martial artist.    Hawaii has a sarcastic exterior and odd sense of humor, but is loyal to her friends.  She is proficient in the use of arcane weapons, such as the sword, and modern, such as a Browning Hi-Power 9mm that she has license to carry.  She does contract work for the Honolulu PD, and has her fair share of enemies.  Although she has an appreciation for their abilities, she fears none of them.  She is currently uninvolved romantically, but her students have had their share of crushes on her.  Hawaii's role model is her "Uncle" Indiana Jones (who gave her the name "Hawaii" when she became a professor) and her pen-pal and closest friend is her cousin Illinois Smith.  As quoted in an interview, Hawaii once said with her usual half-grin, "I was born a female brain in a family full of male ones.  I've got a reputation to live up to, and if you think I won't, you're dead wrong."  Hawaii also loves books (preferably sci-fi and fantasy), odd antiques, fencing (but with no rules), and traveling.  She is a cat/bird person, and is owned by a Siamese cat (Griffin), and blessed with the presence of a tame African Gray parrot (Windstorm) that lives in the palms behind her house.

Victoria DiThon Kestral - As of the summer of 1999, she is a 215 year old who looks a mere thirteen.  She is one of a race of Immortals who can only die when their head is separated from their bodies.  They fight with swords in the Gathering for a Prize (which they know nothing about), because “There can be only one.”  Victoria's sword of choice is a Celtic broadsword made especially for her smaller size, but she is capable of using many more types of weapons.  After their first deaths, Immortals look the same age forever, hence her young apparent age.  Victoria has lived all over the world, and done many things.  Most recently was the incident in Seacouver, Washington, in which her adopted cousin (also Immortal) attacked the junior high she was attending.  She and her friends (other Immortals who also look like kids) fought him off, and she took his head.  She is now going by the name Victoria Kest and laying low in Europe.  She is fluent in many languages (English, Welsh, Gaelic, Latin, Greek, French, Hopi Native American and enough German and Japanese to get by, to name a few), and has Masters Degrees in both Mathematics and English.  Called Toria by close friends, she has survived for two hundred years by being proficient in the use of the sword and a variety of other weapons.  Her teacher was an Immortal by the name of Arthur Jenkins, the famed five thousand year old Immortal Methos, who gave her the nickname Toria.  Victoria is 5 foot 8 inches, with a slight build, brown hair, and bluish-gray eyes.  She has a cynical attitude (much like her teacher) and is a great actress, a must for her life.  But deep inside she is loyal to her friends, and has a reputation for keeping her promises.  Secrets that few are aware of is her telekinetic ability, and her talent for seeing auras, besides the fact that she is part vampire (a long, long story).

Whitney Alexandria Victoria Mackenzie - Whitney is a mutant, a person born with extraordinary powers. Whitney has several beyond human powers, namely her healing factor. It cures all sicknesses and diseases she gets (this is how several cures and vaccines were found) and does not allow her to age. Whitney looks about twenty or twenty-five, but she is really over two hundred years old. She is involved in espionage and “owned” by the Canadian government, who loaned her to the American CIA.  They sent her to various places, namely Texas, Vietnam, and Germany to infiltrate organizations that have become rogue operations or to give on-site intelligence. She is a colonel in Canada, a captain for the Texas Rangers, and a US Deputy Marshal. She has had four husbands, but all are deceased. Whitney is very beautiful, which is a good thing for a spy, but is also very good at blending into large crowds. She is about 5’6”, 120 lb. and has blond hair and blue eyes. Whitney, besides her healing factor, also has a skeleton reinforced with adamantium, a metal that is very strong and virtually unbreakable, done by Canadian government doctors back in the 1960s. Whitney can never get broken bones and is nearly invulnerable. She has ten razor-sharp adamantium claws housed in her fingers as a side effect of the process. Several other Canadian agents have received this treatment in the hopes that they will be the ultimate weapons, a project called Weapon X. She is currently on vacation from the X-Men, a group she was sent to investigate because of their clandestine activities for the good of human- and mutant-kind, but instead ended up joining. Whitney is very intelligent and knows many languages, including her native French, English, Spanish, German, Vietnamese, Greek, Latin, Chinese, and Japanese, besides a smattering of Portuguese and Arabic.

Part 1

Early June, 1999

Hawaii Davids walked across the sunny campus of the University of Hawaii, thankful that it was finally summer break.  She had three months off in which there would be no papers to grade, or students to tend to.  And especially no administrators to get on her back about the neatness of her office, way she ran her classes, or her supposed fraternization with students. "Thank all the gods of which I know about," she muttered as she headed for her office.  "I definitely need a vacation."  Reaching the door, she pulled it open and stopped in her tracks. And I think I spoke too soon, she thought.  Standing by her desk was a girl who graduated a few weeks ago, and should not even have been in the islands.  "Laura, what are you doing here?" Hawaii asked her former assistant.  "I thought you would be back in Boston by now."

Laura grinned at her mentor and handed over a stack of envelopes.  "Here's your mail, I picked it up so you wouldn't forget it, as usual.  And thanks to your glowing recommendation, I got that position on the team going to Australia this summer, and we leave next week."

"Well, that's cause for celebration!" Hawaii said.  “Come on, dump that stuff on my desk, and I’ll treat you to dinner.”  Fraternization with students, indeed!

Later that evening, Hawaii returned to her office and collapsed at her desk.  She sighed and looked around, glancing from the collection of swords on the wall to the contents of the shelves.  There were things she had picked up on her travels, her parents' collection of books (willed to her when they died five years ago), and the occasional antique her cousin sent her.  Glancing through her mail, she saw a letter from her cousin Illinois Smith, posted from his current site near Laredo, Texas, where he was uncovering pterosaur skeletons.  "What's up, Illy?" she muttered as she ripped open the envelope.  Surprisingly, the message was not very long.

Hawaii, it read.  The dig was a success; we got nearly a complete skeleton of a female pterosaur.  I hope things are going as good with you.  Are you planning on going anywhere this summer?  If not, I was recently notified of some items that might interest you.  I plan to be in Paris in a couple days.  I'll email you with more details.  Illinois.

"PS.  We just found a nest!" was scrawled at the end of the note.

Hawaii switched on her computer and logged onto the Net.  After deleting messages from various humanitarian organizations wanting her attention for the summer, she finally located Illy's message.  With the mention of interesting objects, he had instantly gotten his anthropologist cousin's attention.  "You sneaky man," she said with a grin as she read the email.  Her cousin knew her too well, and had already gotten her a ticket on a flight to Paris, departing in five days.

"I guess my plans for the summer have been decided for me," Hawaii announced to the empty office.  "I just hope that dearest Illy knows more about these items than he's telling me, and that he discovered them legally this time.  Oh well, this might make for an interesting summer!"

A few days earlier, while Illinois Smith sat in his tent and composed that short letter to his cousin in Hawaii, his workers began shouting, in some mixture of languages that could only be reasonably called Spanglish. "Dr. Smith, look, mira!  The cosa!  Por favor, please, we found it!"

"What the devil are all y'all yellin' about down there?" Illy shouted, still trying to concentrate on the letter he was attempting to write without reverting back to his professor-like chicken scratch that flowed over his students' drawings and assignments.

"Los ninos, los ninos, the babies! Los ninos de la mama! We found the nest!" cried several of the Mexicans that had been hired to excavate Illy's most recent site ten miles southwest of Laredo.  With that last reply, Illy finished a hasty goodbye to his favorite cousin, pulled on his "uncle" Indy's battered felt fedora, and rushed out of his beat-up tent. To his surprise and joy, Illy's workers had in fact discovered the mother pterosaur's nest, full of unhatched eggs and tiny newborns.  This was the discovery that Illinois Smith needed to prop up his dwindling career. Ever since the fiasco in Viet Nam, it had just not been the same for Illy. He had almost lost his tenure with the University of Illinois in Chicago after that mistake, but this success would make the dean sit up and take notice of him once again.

After taking the necessary steps to preserve the nest, Illy realized that he would be kicked off the site when his university found out about the discovery and called in someone with more seniority.  For two months, he had labored over the unwanted and untouched site at Laredo. When his colleagues found out where Illy was digging this year, he had nearly been laughed out of the Society of Paleontologists ("Attacked by any monks lately, Smith?" was a frequent question he received at functions). Even there among his peers, years after his horrific high school days, he was still a loner and socially inept. He avoided functions whenever possible, but duty called once every year or so.

He rubbed his mud-streaked palms together in anticipation of the big social in London this summer, when his peers heard of his discovery and saw his date.  She was a gorgeous and intelligent blond who professed to be attracted to him for his brains just as much as his muscular body or his handsome face; how those academic types would drool!  However, if the dean kicked him off the site, Illy would go to Paris first, where he had received a call about items that were thought to be rare and quite unique by a European group called the Celtic Preservation Society. This site would prove to be very interesting indeed, since Illy had invited both his cousin and girlfriend to join him. If they were lucky, he could get Hawaii another of the swords she so dearly loved.

"Won't Wai be surprised when she sees what I got a hold of for her this time," Illy chuckled. The objects in question were actually a baronet from the Mexican Revolution and an epee from a Mexican fop who had been killed by a Creole in search for blood. He himself had never found any items that he gave his closest relative, but instead bought several items off the black market wherever he was at or off private collectors at estate sales and such back in Illinois.  With his plans in mind, Illy called the university to report his find and withdrew his plan to stay the rest of the summer. No matter what the next guy found, it would not compare with what Illy and his crew had already discovered.

After he placed his call, Illy got into his beat-up, dusty black Suburban and drove the ten miles to Laredo to post his letter to Wai. When his errands had been completed, Illy thought about crossing the border into Nuevo Laredo to procure some cheaper antiquities for Wai.  What the Mexicans had was usually the same or higher quality than what American dealers had.  He had a hard enough time making enough money to support himself, and his bigger purchases for Wai were taking a toll on his finances. But he was kind hearted, and when he saw something he knew Wai did not have, he couldn't help himself; he would snap it up for her and tighten his belt a few notches the next month.  Illinois knew that Hawaii had wanted some old swords for a lecture series she was doing fall semester: North and South American Wars of the 19th Century.  His monthly paycheck from the university was a pittance, but Illy was resourceful.  He used E*Trade frequently and always managed to turn a profit. In his off time during the school year, Illy would tutor students from foreign countries in English at a handsome hourly rate.  Deciding he did not want to make more trips into town than necessary, Illy bought a few extra stamps and drove out of Laredo.

Part 2

Hawaii arrived at the Paris airport and made her way through customs with the usual arguments about the gun and three knives in her luggage.  After showing her licenses and credentials, while applying much charm and managing not to be too sarcastic, she finally made it to the main lobby.  Looking around for her cousin, Illinois was finally spotting lurking by a wall.  "Illy!" she called.  He glanced up and headed her way.  They gave each other a big hug, and Wai saw some women look at her enviously.

"Hawaii," Illy said.  "How was your trip?"  His cousin looked gorgeous, as usual, and he saw a group of men checking her out from a few feet away.  Illinois knew that the two made a striking pair, and they had been mistaken for a couple on more than one occasion, even with the slight family resemblance.

"Great," she replied, then looked him over.  "At the risk of sounding like an Italian mother, you look entirely too skinny.  You're not blowing all your money on stuff for me again, are you?"  At Illinois' sheepish look, she rolled her eyes.  "Illy, I'm not going to rule your life, but if you need money, you know you can always call me."

They headed for the parking lot, and Illinois replied, "Hey, I know what a professor's salary is.  Don't you go feeling guilty."

Illinois and Hawaii had fallen into the banter that they were familiar with, acting like siblings instead of cousins.  "Please," Wai drawled.  "I'm on retainer from the police department now, too. The last case I worked was a big one.  And I still get money from my parent's trust fund since I'm supporting those two kids in Egypt through that foundation they liked."  They arrived at Illinois' rental, a black Range Rover, and hopped in.  "By the way, I am starved."

Hawaii's flight had been an overnighter, so she had at least managed to get some sleep.  In France it was only mid-morning.  "Why don't we go to a café or something for lunch, then I have to be back at the airport to pick up Whitney this afternoon," Illinois said.

His cousin immediately perked up.  "You mean I'll finally get to meet the mysterious Whitney Mackenzie?  Cool."  This time it was Illinois' turn to roll his eyes.  They talked about what had happened in each of their lives since meeting last, not letting up until they were ensconced in a small outdoor café in Paris.

About two hours later, Hawaii laughed at a joke Illinois had made and leaned back in her chair with a cup of coffee.  Suddenly her eyes widened and she sat straight up in surprise.  "No way, it can't be her!" she breathed, staring at something across the street.  Hawaii stood up and shouted, "Hey, Toria!"

Illinois turned around in his seat and was surprised when a teenage girl wearing a long black coat stopped in her tracks and gazed wildly around.  When her eyes lighted on Hawaii, she broke into a grin and jogged across the street to their table.  "Eva!" the girl said, giving Hawaii a hug.  "Fancy meeting you here!"

"Call me Hawaii," Wai replied.  "And you are...?"  Gesturing to another chair, both sat down.  Illinois was still sitting silently, watching with interest.

"Victoria Kest, for now.  There was a bit of trouble back in the States last summer, so Victoria DiThon Kestral had to disappear for awhile," the girl said.  She looked at Illinois.  "From the resemblance, I'd say you were William Smith, little Eva's cousin."

"Illinois Smith," Illy said, shaking her hand.  "When did you two meet each other?  I don't think Hawaii's ever mentioned you."

"Victoria and I were attending a series of lectures one summer while I was at Oxford when we met.  We discovered a common interest in Celtic things and were pretty much inseparable all summer.  We've kept in touch a bit over the years," Hawaii responded.  Victoria grinned and gave her a wink -- she had asked that Hawaii always downplay their connection, since she refused to let herself become a danger to her close mortal friend.

Illinois took a closer look at the apparent teenager.  "Just how old are you?" he asked curiously.  Hawaii had attended college back in the mid-eighties.

"You wouldn't believe me," Victoria tossed off.  "Let's just say I'm a lot older than I look."

"You'd be surprised at what I'll believe," Illinois said, his thoughts turning to Whitney.  That reminded him, and he glanced at his watch.  "I've got to go back to the airport and pick up Whitney."  Hawaii nodded.  "Do you want to come?" he continued.

"Actually, I'd like to talk with Hawaii, and catch up a bit," Victoria said with an innocent smile.  "Why don't you go pick up your friend and meet us, say, at a restaurant for dinner?  There's a really good Chinese place a few blocks away from here."  Illinois agreed, and Hawaii and Victoria were left to their own devices for the afternoon.  "You ever been in Paris before, Hawaii?  I can take you on an insider's tour."

"Considering you've been around since before most of this was built, sure," Hawaii said with a grin.  She paid the bill, and both women headed down the street. "What happened back in the States that you had to leave?" Wai asked curiously after a few moments.

"Did you hear about the hostage situation at the junior-high school up in Washington?" Victoria asked quietly, suddenly turning serious.  When Hawaii nodded, she continued, "I and a couple other Immortal 'kids' were up there, and someone decided that they wanted our heads.  We fought, and I won, but two of my friends had public deaths, and we had to hightail it out of there.  I'm living at the house in London again now, but visiting Paris for the summer.  How come you're here?"

"Illinois was called about a site of artifacts in Northern France, up near the English Channel.  I'm an anthropologist, as you know, so he thought I'd be some help," Hawaii said.  "That's all I know right now."

Victoria nodded.  "Interesting.  I wonder if it's the same stuff my friend Elizabet told me about," she said thoughtfully.  Then she perked up.  "So, where should we go first?"  And the two friends headed off for an afternoon of playing tourist.

On the way to the Paris airport where Whitney's flight would come in, Illy had time to reflect on many things, namely, his cousin Hawaii. Every time he saw her, it seemed that she grew more and more beautiful. He always wondered why she didn't have a serious boyfriend, especially since her long-time lover had died a couple years ago.  But on to the present, Illy thought, as he narrowly missed his turnoff to the airport.

"Damn, I need to work on my French!" Illy exclaimed to the empty car.  "I need Whitney!"

As he again pulled into the parking garage connected to the airport, he noticed a familiar figure leaning against the brick wall by the elevators. "Whitney?" Illy called out his window.  She grabbed her suitcase and hopped in the passenger seat after throwing it in the back.  "How did you get through customs so quick?  I thought you were going to be here later, or else I would have been here earlier."

"Hey, Illy," the blonde known to few as Whitney, and to most as Tempest replied.  "Nice to see you, too. One, I know people in customs, and two, I took an earlier flight to surprise you. Is your cousin with you?"

“I picked her up earlier. She's with a friend of hers we saw this afternoon. We're meeting them at a Chinese restaurant for dinner. That okay with you, darlin'?" Illy asked as he drove out of the parking garage.

"That's fine, Illy. Miss me?" Whitney asked.

"Always do," Illy replied, somewhat distractedly, "What the...this way to...where? The what? The Louvre? I can't read these signs! They pass by too quickly."

"Slow down then!  I once had a boyfriend who said, quote, 'I don't drive fast, I fly low.' Reminds me of you. Always did like his sense of humor. Anyway.  No, no, NO! Don't go there! Don't turn! Go straight!" Whitney shouted, as Illy made to turn off the highway. "That is the nastiest place to go. It's the French equivalent of where Richard Gere picked up Julia Roberts in ‘Pretty Woman.’ You don't want to go there…Now turn here, love.  Remember, Illinois, I do know French, unlike some people I know.  You," she said, poking Illy’s muscular arm, "are so much fun to tease.  So, back to business.   What was the name of that restaurant, now?"

Part 3

Illinois and Whitney entered the family run Chinese restaurant and headed for where Hawaii and Victoria were already sitting.  They managed to catch the tail end of Victoria's story.

"...And so Justin looks at her and says, 'Yeah?  What of it?'" Victoria said, and both women laughed.

“That’s definitely Justin!” Hawaii said with a grin.  Then she looked up and finally laid eyes on the mysterious Whitney Mackenzie.  She stood up and said, "Hello, I'm Hawaii Davids, Illinois' cousin.  This is my friend Victoria Kest."

Whitney looked at the two women in front of her. One of them looked like Illy, slightly.  The other was familiar, but where, and how? Whitney racked her brain as she and the cousins sat down at the table.

"I'm Whitney Mackenzie. I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance," Whitney smiled, as she greeted her boyfriend's cousin.  Then she turned to look at Victoria. "I know this sounds strange, but I have the feeling that I've met you before. Do I know you from somewhere?"

"No, I don't think so. If we’ve met before, I don't remember.  Sorry," Victoria stated quietly.

"I don't know, strange, hinkie, something like that. Anyway, did you two order already?"  Whitney waited for a response.

"No, all we've gotten are drinks. Hungry?" Wai asked. It was then that she noticed how quiet Illy had been, ever since the pair arrived at the restaurant. Usually, Illy would have already started some sort of discussion, either paleontology or a retelling of his latest adventure.  Tonight though, he seemed preoccupied, but with something completely unknown to her.

Wai studied him for a few seconds, only to discover that the reason for his unusual reticence was the fact that he was openly staring at Whitney, a small smile on his lips. Wai thought that the woman was unusually striking, with waist length blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a slight dimple in her chin.

"So, Whitney, where are you from, and what do you do for a living? Illy has always been quite secretive about you," questioned Wai with a smile.

"Well, I'm from Quebec, Canada. That's where I was born, anyway. But my job situation is always changing," replied Whitney.

"Why is that?" Victoria asked.  She had been studying the menu and Illinois in regular intervals.  Victoria thought he was pretty cute, but he was obviously taken.  He would mistake her for a simple teenager anyway.  Story of her life.

"I work for, how shall I put this, the Canadian government. I am currently on loan to the American CIA. I really do whatever they tell me, I guess."

"'On loan?' These people sound like they treat you like a book or a video. When do you become overdue?  Huh!" Illy remarked.

Whitney grinned at Illy's attempt at humor.  "Well, that's the term for spies who are more or less double agents," she responded.

"Whoa! You're a spy?" Wai exclaimed.

"Yeah, sure. I've worked for the governments for a long time. But that's beside the point. Now, Illy, please tell us your secret.  I've been dying to know." Whitney looked at Illy, who grinned at her.

"Well, what I wanted to tell you was that I think I have almost proved the story of King Arthur of being true!"

There was a collective gasp from the unwitting females at the table. Hawaii's bottom jaw dropped to an amazing level.  Victoria paused before taking a sip of tea, placed the cup carefully back down on the table, and stared at him.

"Wai, snap your mouth shut before you drool on the nice tablecloth," Illy joked, "I'm serious! One of the items discovered in Northern France was a text that is partially obscured and dates back to the 700s, but one of few words that have been deciphered already was Merlin. I need more help reading it to solve this.  Maybe we can even get you Excalibur for your collection, Hawaii."

"Caliburn."

"What’d you say, Whit?" Illy asked.

"I said Caliburn. Excalibur was the name it was given much later. Have you read Mary Stewart's version of the legend? She wrote it from Merlin's perspective. Quite fascinating."

"Or the movie 'Camelot'?" Hawaii added.  "That says there were two swords.  Excalibur was the one pulled out of the stone, and Caliburn was later given to Arthur by the Lady of the Lake."

"Please," Victoria said, a disbelieving look on her face.  "No offense Dr. Smith, but that whole story is just a legend."  But inside, her mind was racing.  She had to contact her former teacher, the Immortal Methos.  She knew the legends, and the truth.  Methos had been there.

"And you would know?" Hawaii asked.  She grinned at her friend, who merely raised an eyebrow.

"Please, I'm not that old.  But yeah, I do know a few people who were there," Victoria tossed off.

Illy and Whitney both gave Victoria strange looks.  "What do you say, Wai? Up for an adventure with me and Whit here?" Illy was practically begging, and Wai was nearly lost in his soulful brown eyes. There was a spark of something, real interest perhaps, that Wai saw rarely.

"Well, what do you think, Illinois?" she countered with her half-grin.  "There's only a small chance that I'll be able to read it.  I don't know that many languages.  But since you dragged me all the way out here, I guess I will."  She gave Victoria a sideways glance.  "Want to come, Toria?"

"Sorry, but this is a little out there for me," Victoria said, hastily covering her racing thoughts.  "I'll pass.  I made a promise to a friend of mine here in Paris that I would stick around awhile.  And I don't want to get too involved with anything that big, if he’s right.  Too much chance that I'll be recognized, Wai."  And if Illinois was right and the text was what she thought it was, Immortality could be exposed and the world might go to hell in a hand-basket.  Victoria needed to make some calls, and fast.

Whitney snapped her fingers.  "I know!  But that's impossible."

Victoria gave her a guarded look, her attention snapped back to the situation at hand.  "What do you mean?"

"I know why you look so familiar.  I remember…never mind.  You were at that junior high in Washington that was held hostage!  You disappeared afterwards, along with some other kids," Whitney said.  "Who are you, Victoria?"

"The correct question would be 'what' I am," Victoria said, standing up.  She dug in her pocket and tossed a few francs on the table for her tea.  "If you trust them with a friend's life, Eva, I guess you can tell them what happened last summer.  Maybe I'll see you around."  Then the girl sauntered out of the restaurant.

"Well?" Whitney asked Hawaii.  "What's the story?"

Ring.  Ring.

"Joe's Blues Club and Bar, you're speakin' to him."

"Hey, Joe, this is Victoria.  How’re you doing?"

"Victoria!  Nice to hear from you.  I'm great, how about you?  And how are the others?"

"I'm okay, Kenny and Kane are up in Wales, I think Justin's in New York City, and I'm with Elizabet in Paris at the moment.  I have a favor to ask, though.  You being one of the only Watchers I trust, Mr. Joe Dawson, you were the only one I could think of to call.  I met up with an old friend of mine today.  I think her cousin found one of Methos' old journals.  They're going up to Cherbourg in North France tomorrow to check it out.  Do you know where the old man is?"

"I think he’s here in Seacouver, I'll try to reach him.  Do you know which journal it is?"

"Yeah.  The one when he was Merlin."

"You're kidding, Victoria!  As in King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table?"

"The same.  Just tell him, please?"

"I will.  He'll probably want to go to Europe right away, though.  Where can he reach you?"

"At my apartment in Paris.  Tell him to go by the RoseBlade headquarters in the city and get the address.  I'll tell them to expect him.  Thanks, Joe."

"No problem, Victoria.  It was nice hearing from you.  Take care, okay?"

"Will do, Joe.  Say hi to everyone for me.  Bye!"

"Bye."

Click.  Click.

Part 4

The next day on the train to Northern France, Hawaii, Illinois, and Whitney sacked out in their private compartment.  Hawaii had eluded Whitney's question in the restaurant, but had finally spilled after a long discussion with her cousin about Whitney the night before.  Then on the train, she had revealed all.  Needless to say, Whitney had been shocked.

"Actually, that would explain quite a lot," Whitney mused.  At Hawaii's nervous look, she laughed.  "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone.  I know the need for secrets."

"Of course, 'Tempest'," Illinois said with a grin.  It was Hawaii's turn to look curious.  When Whitney glanced at him, he shrugged.  “Hey, love, it’s only fair.”

Whitney sighed.  "Yes, I've a few secrets of my own.  And if we're going to be working together, Hawaii, you should probably know."  Illinois reached over and grasped her hand.

“I was born in Quebec, as I told you, but I never said when. Not even Illy here knows how old I really am. Anyway, I was born in the mid-seventeen hundreds to Sir Alexander Mackenzie and his wife Victoria Lorraine. Have you heard of the explorer Sir Alexander Mackenzie?” With a nod from both members of her audience, Whitney continued. She spoke quietly, as if telling her life story was painful.  “He was my grandfather. That was where my father got his name and title. After my mother died in childbirth (I was their only child), it was said that my father was a completely different man. Daddy was always very loving to me, and generous, too. Even though I was a female, he still spent a good deal of money on my governess’ and later, my tutors. I was taught more than the young people of today are.  English, (French is my first language), then Greek, and Latin, and I read all of Ovid and Plato’s works, in their original languages, of course.”

Whitney paused for a breath. “I had a normal childhood. When I was fifteen, my father decided it was time for my ‘season.’ A season is where you go to a large city, like Montreal or Quebec, and you go to parties, balls, and barbecues in search of a man with enough money, land, and if you’re lucky, good looks to satisfy your father. I went to London for mine, and in two short months was engaged to a young man of twenty-five. His name was...”

Illinois interrupted her with a snort and spoke, “You mean to tell me that your father was going to marry you off to a guy you had only known for two months? And he was ten years older than you, too!” Illy’s face was a red shade that made his dark brown eyes seem to melt with the heat emitting from his face.  Hawaii knew how marriages had been arranged in historical times and did not know whether to sympathize with Illinois’ feelings or laugh at his outrage.

“Well, yes.  Daddy had many acquaintances in London, and we soon found out that this young man was rich, landed, and very good-looking. As I was saying, I married the Earl of Cornwall, Lord David Edward North, Count of Chase, and Baron Penrith five months shy of my sixteenth birthday. Fortunately, he had estates in Canada, France, and England, so we were often near my father. We never had any children.”

“So, you’re actually a... a what? What is your title, exactly? I always get those mixed up,” Wai asked, a look of concentration on her face.

“I’m first a countess, then a baroness. But I was the Lady Whitney Mackenzie when I married him,” Whitney explained. To Illy, it made perfect sense. Whitney appeared very regal, and she carried herself like a queen.

“Where was I? David, yes, that’s right,” Whitney took a deep breath. Illy did not like the way she had forgotten where she was.

“David and I were married for two years. At first, we were very formal with each other; I called him ‘my lord’ to his face, and ‘his lordship’ to servants. He called me ‘his lady,’ and I overheard him call me ‘her ladyship’ as well. He was a very kind man, I remember. Very handsome, with light brown hair, blue eyes. Tall, too, muscular. He rode a lot. He had to inspect the estate and the peasants, to make sure everything was well. Sometimes, when he wasn’t busy, he would take a ride with me. He would say at breakfast, ‘My lady, I am unoccupied this afternoon. Before tea, would you care to go riding with me?’ My reply was a standard, ‘My lord, it would please me greatly to ride with you later.’”  Whitney had a look of fond remembrance on her face.

“But did you love him?” Wai asked. It did seem unfair for Whitney to have to marry a man so young who she didn’t even know.

“I grew to love him, yes. You have to understand something; marriages for convenience or money were very common. David and I were no different.  Anyway, as we grew to know each other, we became less formal and distant to each other. He made time for me. I would sit with him while he read over the balance of his estates’ finances. Occasionally, I wrote letters to his solicitor or his correspondence, because his handwriting was a terrible scrawl.  We began to call each other by first names in private, but continued the fore-mentioned practice of ‘my lord, my lady’ for servants and guests.”

“What happened to him?” Both listeners asked in unison. They stopped and looked at each other, slightly grinning.

“One would never know that you two were related.  Well, this part is strange. I later discovered that David had been working for the Canadian government as a spy for years. He was very good. Owning land in several different countries helped him out considerably.  One day, he told me that he needed a separation. This was totally out of the blue, because we had become very close over the short time we were married. He said that things weren’t working out between us, and that he needed time.  So he left me.  I later discovered papers in a drawer that were from the Canadian government, thanking David for his service and arranging a place to meet to describe his next job. An unfinished letter lay underneath the document, from David, to the correspondent, telling him that he would be there. He had just signed his name, when he stopped the letter. Apparently, he had been interrupted, because he hadn’t posted the letter.”

“So, what did you do after he left you?” Wai asked.

“Well, I thought, I couldn’t live without him. I was only seventeen, so young, and I followed him.  I went to the place where the meeting was held, and offered my services as a spy.  And that’s how it began. I eventually found David, about half a year later when I was almost eighteen, he and I were to work together. I knew it was him, he was so handsome. I figured he would recognize me and we would both come in from the cold. But things went south. Someone leaked the story that two Canadian agents were trying to invade the parliament building in Germany, to steal some highly classified documents. We walked straight into an ambush. We had our credentials, had gotten through the guards, and we were fired upon. David was in front, leading the way, and I trailed him slightly, checking our rear. David leaned out to check around the corner. It was clear. We never saw them. I have often heard that you never hear the shot that kills you. I think this was true for David, because he walked out and signaled me to follow him out. He was hit, several times, just as I eased around the corner. He fell, still breathing, and he was bleeding from several wounds. Forgetting everything I had been trained, I dropped low, and crawled to his side. Several bullets also struck me. He was awake, and looking at me. Blood from me seeped onto his bleeding chest. He said to me, ‘Whitney, get out of the cold. Don’t forget that I love you.’ I remember that very clearly, even as I cried over his body. Every move we made that night is imbedded into my memory, as are David’s final words.” Whitney’s eyes were dry, but her voice was ragged, and racked with the drudged up memory.

Wai had a sad look on her face, her imagination obviously playing the scene out in detail in her mind.  Illy asked, “What does that mean, ‘to come in from the cold?’”

“It is a spy term. It means to retire, to get out of the business. Espionage isn’t as romantic as modern-day movies make it out to be.”

“How many shots did you take when David was shot? How did you survive?” Illy probed.

“I guess it was about five. One in the leg that shattered my knee, one that grazed my right arm, and three in my chest and torso. One of these was actually in my shoulder, about an inch above my heart. It went through here,” Whitney said, pulling down the neck of her shirt to show the scar, “and out in the back. Thankfully, it didn’t pierce any major arteries or blood vessels.”

“That’s three. What about the other two?” Wai asked. She was completely fascinated by Whitney’s tale.

“Well, let me think. Okay, the next one took me up in the abdomen,” she traced a finger near her right kidney, “and the last hit me in the hip. It too, just grazed me. I was very lucky that David’s big body blocked most of the bullets. But I would gladly have died for him.”

“But you didn’t tell how you survived.”

“Thank you, dear, for reminding me. Yes, well, you know what I am, Illy, and that gives me a certain type of immune system that heals me from just about everything. A special type of metal, adamantium, which was surgically bonded to my skeleton at a later date, enhances it. My healing factor, as it is now referred to, has saved me many times from certain death. It repaired my bones, and sewed up my bullet holes. It took a little bit of time then, but as I age, it gets quicker.

“After that, I went to many exotic places, like Texas and Montana. When I was young, these places were still wild, though every year Texas became more civilized. I was given to the CIA on a loan from Department H, which is very similar to your CIA and FBI.”

“Why you?” Illy asked.

“Well, I guess there were a couple reasons why they chose me. Firstly, I was a woman, and it was easy for me to blend in, since I’m not especially pretty. Also, they told me I was the best they had. I didn’t believe that, but...anyway. I was sent to Texas in about 1846, to infiltrate the Texas Rangers, to help them annihilate the Comanche Indians.  That was where I met...my second husband. I don’t like to talk about him; it’s very painful for me, okay?” Whitney’s eyes darkened, as she remembered the man who had been her second love.

“He died in 1898, of natural causes. He was 71. By that time, I knew that there was something different about me. I hadn’t aged, even though I was some months past seventy. If I had aged, I looked maybe twenty, and I passed for my husband’s adopted daughter. Those who had known us in our former days were dead, and there was no reason to tell survivors otherwise. I will say one thing, though, it is the cruelest thing that nature can do to a person, to take away all those that you love, while you survive. Everybody I knew died around me, from old age, disease, accidents, and I was untouched.”

“But you look so young!” Wai exclaimed.  Inside though, she knew what Whitney was saying was true.  Hawaii had heard stories of Victoria’s single great mortal love – but Erik had died on the Titanic on their honeymoon.

“Yes, my healing factor keeps me from aging. After my second husband died, I was passed around to different places, namely to Vietnam during the war, and I fought the Nazis in the World War II. I was recruited, well, that’s not a good word for it because I was taken against my will. Anyway, I was singled out, that’s better, for a project that would surgically bond adamantium to my skeleton so I would become nearly invulnerable. They wanted me and the others involved in the project to become the ultimate weapon. The project was called Weapon X. This damaged everyone involved, including me, because during the very painful procedure, several memories were tampered with, and even removed in some cases. My best friend, Logan, went through about forty years without realizing that he had fought in certain places or been involved with some espionage activities back in the fifties. Thanks to Professor X, we were able to remember a lot of things that we hadn’t known.”

“Who is this Professor X guy? Isn’t he on TV sometimes? C-SPAN or something like that?” Wai asked.

“Yeah, actually he is sometimes. Charles protests the treatment that mutants are given by normal humans. Back in the ‘60s, Charles formed a group of kids, called the X-Men, who fought evil mutants and defended defenseless humans with their powers. After ten years and many battles, Charles realized that five twenty-year olds were not going to stop all the evil mutants, especially Magneto, a man with the power to control magnetism, so he recruited more, me and Logan included. We were ‘allowed’ to leave, after Logan put up a mock argument with the head of Department H, in which he slashed the guy’s ugly tie in half,” Whitney smiled at the memory.

"So you're not an Immortal," Hawaii finally realized.  "Which is why Victoria didn’t feel the-never mind.  You're a mutant."

Whitney gave the other woman a concerned look.  "I'm sorry if this offends you, but I have to ask, for my own piece of mind.  Do you have anything against mutants?"

Wai laughed.  "Not even close.  Last year, a student of mine discovered his own nifty powers and it kind of freaked him out.  I was the person he chose to come to, and I got him set up with a friend of mine who is naturally telepathic.  It's okay, Whitney.  If I can be friends with Victoria, how are you any different?"  Whitney looked relieved, and both smiled at each other.

“Logan what the guy’s tie off? Slashed?” Illy asked, concerned for his girlfriend’s safety and getting back to the story.

“Well, yes. As I said before, we were both involved with Weapon X and the adamantium bonding. As an unexpected side effect, we both had more adamantium flow to our hands and arms. It resulted in claws for both of us. His are housed in his forearms, and are about a foot long. He has six, three on each hand. They start on his index finger and he has one on his middle and ring finger. They are very sharp, and very deadly. He can slice through about anything known to man, including steel.”

“How does he control them?” Wai asked, quite fascinated.

“Well, its mental. If he wants them out, snick, they’re out. He can decide if he wants one out on his right hand, or if he wants all six. Logan has this habit of scratching his chin with his right index claw. Its very strange, yet, natural. I guess you just have to know Logan to see how it is.”

“You said that you have claws as well. Do they...I’m having a hard time phrasing this,” Illy asked.  While he knew Whitney’s codename and the basics of her involvement with the X-Men, a lot of this information was new to him, too.

“Yes, I have claws also. Mine aren’t like Logan’s; they’re more cat-like. I have ten, one on each finger, just inside the bone, I guess. I don’t really know how it works, or where they stay when I don’t need or want them. They’re not nearly as long, being about two inches instead of twelve,” Whitney replied, utterly calm.

“Can you, would you mind showing us? It doesn’t hurt you, does it?” Wai asked. She had seen a cat skeleton in the science department at the university and had been thinking about the structure of the claws while Whitney talked.

“Sure if you want to see them. It doesn’t hurt now, but about thirty years ago, I couldn’t retract them without being in severe pain,” She lifted her folded hands off her lap and slightly extended her fingers to extend the silver claws. There was a small sound, a snick that Whitney had mimicked during her tale, and there they were. Whitney set her hands on her knees, and the wicked, curved points rested on her knees. Illy gently picked up one of Whitney’s small hands, and traced the claw length. They were, to him, very cat-like indeed, and very different than what he had expected. He had expected a white, thick claw, one that barely protruded from her fingernail. Instead, he found that the claws he looked out had emerged from the fleshy part of skin, slightly beneath her nail. They were silver, a shiny color that was pleasing to look at. They were not very thick, either, or they wouldn’t look quite right on her small fingers. However, Whitney had been right; they looked natural on her.

“Be careful, Illy, they’re very sharp,” Whitney cautioned, “I don’t want you to slice off a chunk of your finger because you’re running it across the point.”

Wai laughed and leaned across the passenger compartment to pick up Whitney’s remaining hand. She examined the claw, and found the cat description accurate as well. "They’re like my cat Griffin's claws when she's pissed off at me.  And Siamese cats aren't afraid to use 'em, as I know from painful experience."  Satisfied, she placed Whitney’s hand back on her lap. Whitney retracted her claws after removing her hand from Illy’s in case he moved, and she did accidentally cut a piece of him off.

“I have couple other powers that I neglected to mention. First, I am able to read thoughts and send them to others. I have enhanced senses. For example, my hearing is much better than your or Wai's here, Illy. I can track animals and humans by their smell alone, though I can also track by prints.  An old Native American taught me long ago, and his kindness has saved me many times from certain death. I can also see accurately very far away, too.  All these things are a part of my mutant powers.  Logan has many of these same skills as I do.”

“What about the X-Men? Are you still a member?” Hawaii wanted to know.

“Yes, I am. I am a co-leader of the Blue Strike Force, but on leave now. We had a really bad case, and we nearly lost several X-Men during it. Charles was very upset with the outcome. No, not at my leadership, I assure you,” she added after she saw the shocked look on both Illy and Wai’s faces, “He himself was in danger, both physically and politically. Charles has such a desire to help mutants and humans co-exist in peace together because, well, he is a mutant. That’s why he has no hair. And remember you two, all this stuff I just told you about is classified. Charles would kill me if he knew that I told people he was a mutant. He would lose all credibility with the public.”

She allowed them a minute to let everything sink in. Charles Xavier was a respected man, for his intelligence and sympathy for mutants. Plus, he garnered a lot of respect from people since he was in a wheelchair.  He was paralyzed from the waist down from an accident earlier in his life.

“If we meet up with Victoria again, you two would have a blast together," Hawaii said with a sudden grin.  She glanced at her watch.  "We're about to get to Cherbourg.  Illinois, when do we meet these contacts of yours?"

"Tonight.  We’re going to meet them for dinner at seven.  I've already made hotel reservations," he replied.

"Who is 'they'?" Whitney asked.

"The group that contacted me, the Celtic Preservation Society.  Two of their members, Bran Davies and Jessika Loren will be meeting us tonight.  They and another woman, Kimberly Wells, are the representatives assigned to this project," Illinois replied.

"And, I suspect, to keep an eye on us," Wai added, a bemused expression on her face.  "Reminds me of the first case I helped the Honolulu PD with.  They watched me like hawks keeping an eye on someone who might steal their dinner."

"I'm more concerned about this organization," Whitney said.  "How do we know that they're legit?  They might be no better than grave robbers."

Illinois shook his head in laughter.  "Serves me right for bringin’ along two women who fight crime.  Fine, you guys can be the paranoid ones, but I think they're for real.  Oh, and Hawaii, I am glad you decided to come.  Bran Davies, the one in charge of this assignment, is from Wales."

"And I just happen to be fluent in Welsh," Wai mused.  "I knew there was an ulterior motive to all this."

The three left the train in Cherbourg, rented a car at the station, and settled into their hotel.  Two hours later they were seated in a restaurant waiting for the two representatives from the Celtic Preservation Society.  Finally, an older man with white hair and a young woman appeared at their table.

The man spoke first, in a Welsh accent.  “Hello, I’m Bran Davies from the Celtic Preservation Society.  This is my colleague Jessika Loren.”

Illinois stood up to shake his hand.  “Yes, we spoke on the phone.  I’m Dr. William ‘Illinois’ Smith.  This is my cousin Dr. Eva ‘Hawaii’ Davids, anthropologist with the University of Hawaii, and my girlfriend Whitney Mackenzie.”  Greetings were exchanged, and the two arrivals sat down.

Davies spoke first.  “I’m sorry Dr. Smith, but I was under the impression that you would be coming alone.”

“I asked them to come,” Illinois answered.  “What you called me about is more along Dr. Davids’ line of work, and Ms. Mackenzie is a security specialist.”  Whitney hid her snort of laughter in a cough.  “I trust both of them with my life, and they are quite familiar with the need for secrets.”

“We have our own security,” Loren said.  “There was really no need-.”

“It was partly for my own piece of mind,” Whitney interrupted smoothly.  “Illinois has only told us a little about what you have found so far.  There are other organizations and people in the world who are not so honorable as your own.  They would love to get their hands on what you have discovered, and not care who they killed to get it.”  She smiled sweetly, and Illy squeezed her hand under the table in thanks.

“Well, as Ms. Loren said, we do have our own security matters well in hand,” Davies said.  “But thank you for your concern.  Tonight was only a preliminary meeting, I confess, to get to know Dr. Smith.”  Turning towards Illinois, he said, “Your credentials are quite amazing, but I wanted to interview you personally before we started work on the site.  And I would also like to know more about your lovely companions.”

Hawaii and Whitney smiled politely.  Illinois nodded and said, “Makes sense.  Where would you like to start?”

Part 5

At eight the next morning, the three arrived at the site on the edge of the city.  Getting to it involved parking at the side of the highway, then a five-minute hike to a small cliff overlooking the English Channel.  Bran Davies appeared to greet them.

“Good morning.  Welcome to the site,” he said, gesturing to a group of small, rented party tents.  “It rains off and on without warning, so we set up these tents to prevent damage.  At least that’s the official reason.  We just don’t want to get wet.”  Everyone laughed, and Davies gave a quick tour.  “Tent One is our research tent.  That’s where the text we discovered is, and where Hawaii and Whitney will be working with Jessika.  Tent Two covers the actual dig site.  We’re still finding bits and pieces of objects that probably belonged to the owner of the text.  We would appreciate it, Illinois, if you would help Kimberly Wells and I with that.  You’ll meet Kimberly later; she went into the city for more supplies.  Tent Three is where we store our belongings: food and such.  That’s pretty much it.”

“Great,” Illinois said.  He followed Davies to Tent Two, and the women headed for Tent One.

Jessika Loren looked up from the wooden table underneath the tent.  “Morning!  I’m glad you’re here, I’m totally stuck on this.”  They had learned last night that Jessika was from the United States, and a former student of history.  She and Hawaii had hit it off immediately.

“So, what’ve you got?” Hawaii asked.  Jessika handed her a sheaf of papers.

“The originals are down at the end of the table in plastic.  I spent five straight hours yesterday copying every single letter by hand.  Some parts near the end are old versions of Gaelic and Welsh, and some Latin.  But the beginning starts out with hieroglyphics and then what almost looks like Arabic, which I don’t know.”

Hawaii and Whitney glanced at each other.  “You lived in Egypt, you take the hieroglyphics,” Whitney said.  “I’ll try the Arabic.”

“I’ll keep working on the Gaelic.  When we’re all stuck, we’ll collaborate,” Jessika said with a nod.

“Let’s do it!” Hawaii said with a grin, and the three set to work.

Meanwhile, Illinois and Davies were already up their elbows in dirt.  There had been some small talk about Illinois’ recent discovery, but then both had discovered a common habit of working in silence.  They worked diligently, enjoying the sound of the crash of waves, local birds, and the banter of the women in the other tent.  Davies’ pager suddenly went off, and he paused to check it.

“That’s Kimberly with the supplies.  I’m going to help her bring them down, I’ll be right back.”  Illinois nodded, and the older man left the tent.  He called out something in Welsh to Jessika, then started to jog up the path to the highway.

A few minutes later, Illinois carefully brushed off a small bead and stood up to label and catalogue it.  Hawaii appeared at his elbow, and immediately started talking.  “Remember what I told you two nights ago, about the Watchers?”

“That group that follows around the Immortals and records their lives?  Yeah, what about them?”

“Well, they can be identified by a blue tattoo on the inside of their left wrists.  Jessika has one.”

Illinois stopped what he was doing and turned to face his cousin.  “And this means...?”

“One of two things.  Either Davies or this Kimberly Wells is an Immortal, or the Celtic Preservation Society is a cover business,” Hawaii replied.

“Did you tell Whitney this?  She is our ‘security expert.’”  Illy asked.  Hawaii nodded.

“I told her in Greek, which Jessika doesn’t know.  She thinks we were just making up weird sentences to let her know what the language sounded like.  Whitney is going to call some friends tonight and ask them to do some research on this Celtic Preservation Society,” Hawaii reported.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know,” Illinois said.

“Hey, I remember the last time I withheld information from you.  I got kidnapped!”

“And we wouldn’t want a repeat of that, now would we?” her cousin said dryly.

Hawaii rolled her eyes.  “You’re so kind.”  She headed back to the other tent.  On her way there, Davies and another woman appeared from the woods, loaded down with paper bags.  She took a detour to help them put the stuff away.

Kimberly Wells was introduced to the three newcomers, and she joined the dig team.  At noon, the six broke for lunch, and then continued working until around five.  They went into town for dinner at a small resturant.  By this time, they were all comfortable around each other and bantering as if they’d worked together for years.  After dinner, they headed back to their respective hotels with plans to meet at the site at eight the next morning.  The cousins went swimming in the hotel pool while Whitney did some work.  After getting her shower, Hawaii joined Illinois and Whitney in their room.

“I called Logan from the resturant.  He e-mailed me right before you guys got back from the pool.”  Whitney turned her laptop computer around so Illy and Wai could see it.  “The results of his search were quite - interesting.  The Celtic Preservation Society is a real organization, just a really small one.  It is one of a multitude of cover businesses for a worldwide group called the Legacy.  Charles sent me a separate email when he heard what Logan was researching.  Charles has heard of the Legacy, and even knows the ‘Head Precept,’ the head of the entire organization.  He assures me that the Legacy is like the X-Men, only they defend the world from things like demons and other such evil, non-mutant creatures of the night.  Only in a less flashier way than the X-Men.”

Hawaii nodded thoughtfully.  “So what about Jessika?  What is her role as a Watcher in all of this?”

"Logan found her personal file.  She and Davies are members of the Wales Legacy House, and Kimberly is from the London House.  Apparently, Jessika isn’t a Watcher anymore.  She dropped out when something called the Hunters got too bad, and an Immortal retaliated and killed her boss and a bunch of other Watchers,” Whitney answered.

“That makes sense.  Victoria told me about the Hunters, and I even know the story of the murders,” Hawaii said.  “They’re a group of ex-Watchers who decided that Immortals were evil and set out to kill them all.  One even came after Victoria a couple years ago.  Anyway, the Hunters had killed the Immortal’s wife and he saw the tattoo, and so he was killing everyone he could find with the same tattoo, Hunter or not.  The sad part is that the real Watchers are the ones who killed him.  Victoria was really upset about this, ‘cause she was friends with him.”

“Face it, people suck,” Whitney said with a shrug.  Illinois rolled his eyes, but Hawaii merely smiled in silent agreement.

Two figures got out of a car at the edge of the highway and started down the path.  They emerged out of the woods and immediately started searching the tents.

“Ha!” Victoria said when she found the plastic covered papers.  “Found ‘em, Beta!”

Her companion, a fellow “teenage” Immortal and good friend, Elizabet Aspen, walked over to her.  “Are they his journals?”

Victoria scanned the last page, which was written in Latin, and nodded at her.  “Yep.  ‘So now Arthur is dead, and stories tell that he has gone to Avalon.  Merlin is no longer needed.  Time to make up a new identity.  Have to love Immortality.’  He is going to be so pissed!  He probably hid these for a reason.  Help me gather up the other papers.”  They carefully placed the notes into Victoria’s bag and headed up the path.  “Thanks for coming with me, Elizabet.  I know you’re busy.”

The blond girl shrugged.  “No prob.  Of course, now the old man is coming to Europe for no reason.”

Victoria grinned.  “Not exactly.  We don’t know how many copies of these notes they made.  He’ll help me check these guys out.”

“What about Hawaii?” Elizabet asked as they got back to the car.

“I don’t know.  I’ll probably call her and tell her what’s up.  She’ll help us out.”

“Oh, by the way.  I had Erin do some checking on this Celtic Preservation Society.”  Elizabet was one of the heads of an international gang called the RoseBlades dedicated to keeping the peace between real gangs, the mob, and other such groups.  “We’ll see what she’s dug up when we get back to Paris in the morning.”

Part 6

Ring.  Ring.  Ring.

“Hello?”

“Hawaii?  It’s Jessika, -.”

“Jess, it’s four o’clock in the morning.  What do you want?”

“I woke up an hour ago and couldn’t sleep, so I decided to do some more translation.  Stupid me!  I forgot the text and our notes at the site, so I drove out to get them.  I’m over there now.  They’re gone.”

“What!”

Illinois opened his hotel room door to find Hawaii standing there, a stricken look on her face.  “Wai, it’s four in the - what’s wrong?”

“Wake Whitney.  Jessika just called, someone stole the text and all the notes we made.”

“My god!  Whit -!”  Illinois ran towards the bed.

“I heard,” came her sleepy voice.  “Get dressed, guys.  We’ve got to get out there.”

Forty-five minutes later, all six were at the sight.  Whitney and Hawaii were prowling around with flashlights looking for evidence about who had been there.   Illinois and Kimberly were making sure nothing else had been taken.  Davies was on his cell phone, and Jessika was standing in the research tent, silently chewing herself out for forgetting to bring the text with her when she left the site.

Davies flipped his phone shut and called everyone around.  “The police are going to call all the local museums in the morning to warn that any text they get offered to buy might be stolen property.  Kim and Jess, I called Sloan, and he said that we are to get the text back at all costs.”  He glanced at the other three.  “Sloan is our boss.  And I’m sorry to sound suspicious, but did you tell anyone else about this?”

Hawaii slapped her forehead and groaned.  “Victoria!  By the gods, I’m such an idiot!”  At Davies confused look, she elaborated.  “A friend of mine, Victoria Kest.  She was having dinner with us when Illy told us about this.  I was kind of surprised that she turned down my offer to come, usually she loves stuff like this.  I think Victoria’s going to have to be our first suspect.”

Nodding solemnly, Davies said, “Thank you, Hawaii.”  He surveyed the group.  “Here’s the plan.  Kimberly, go back to London and start scanning the black market for it to surface.  I’ll do the same here in France.  Jessika, you play the young rich widow and start hitting the museums and private collectors, offering to buy any old text with a bunch of languages on it.  Be very specific about what you want.  Word gets around, and the thief or thieves will probably contact you.  Hawaii, Illinois, and Whitney, do you think you can find your friend Victoria?”

“Yeah, there are a few places in Europe that she’s bound to hit since she’s…I know where to go,” Hawaii said.  “We’ll check them all out.”

Whitney put in her two cents.  “Nothing is going to get done on the amount of sleep we’ve gotten tonight.  We should go sleep in and give the thieves time to advertise what they’ve gotten.  Hawaii?”

She nodded, picking up the thread.  “Wales, first.  She’s got a house there.  Then London and back to Paris.”  She laughed.  “My first chance for a case where I’m not working with any stuffy, over-protective detectives, and I won’t even get paid!”

Part 7

Three days later found Illinois and Whitney following Hawaii through the Welsh woods.  They had asked around in the nearby town if a house was located nearby in the woods.  The response had been unanimous.  “There’s no house in that forest.  Just the ruins and the ghost, the ghost of the Druid Girl.  You’d best not go out there,” came from the old man they had asked at the post office.  But Hawaii was certain that a house was out there, for Victoria had told her so.  Illinois reminded her that Victoria also might have stolen the text, but she had ignored him.

Whitney stopped walking and held up her hand.  “Guys, stop!” she whispered.  “I heard something!”  Hawaii and Illinois paused and turned around.  Wai raised an eyebrow for her to continue.  Whitney turned in a circle and pointed off the game trail they had been following.  “There,” she said.  “Come on.”  The cousins followed her as they cautiously headed through the woods.

A few minutes later, they emerged into a small clearing.  It was obviously the site of the ruins the old man had warned them about.  There were a few partial stone pillars still standing, but that was it.  Suddenly, two figures stepped out of the woods on the other side of the clearing.  They slowly approached the three.

“Who are you, what are you doing here?” asked the first, a teenage boy with shoulder-length brown hair, in stilted Welsh.  The other, a small blond-haired boy looked on in silence.

“You’re American?” Hawaii asked in English.  The boy nodded, and she continued.  “We’re looking for someone, maybe you can help us.  I’m Hawaii, and these are Illinois and Whitney.”

The blond boy spoke up.  “Hawaii?  As in Hawaii Davids?”  She nodded, mystified that this boy knew her name.  “Victoria’s told me about you.  You might have heard of us, I’m Kenny, and this is Kane.”

“Yes, she has.  It’s nice to meet you,” Hawaii said.  “I'm looking for Victoria, do you know where she is?”

Kane shrugged.  “She headed for Paris a few weeks ago.  We haven’t heard from her since.  I think she’s supposed to go to London in a few days, then come back here after about two weeks.”

Illinois had been looking around the clearing.  “Do you guys...live out here?” he asked.  Kenny and Kane nodded slowly, but did not offer any further information.

Whitney suddenly snapped her fingers.  “Kenneth Mason.  And Kane Nalamas.  You were the two killed in that incident in Washington last year.”  She grinned.  “You don’t need to explain, I know you’re Immortals.  Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone, and I won’t ask any more questions.”

The two boys shared a confused look.  Kane recovered first.  “Okay, that’s all we know.  Do us a favor and leave here now, please.”  They turned and walked away the direction they had come.

“Interesting friends Victoria keeps,” Illinois mused.  “How many Immortals who look like kids can there be in the world?”

Hawaii led them back into the woods.  She sighed.  “Way, way too many.”

As they got back into their car for the drive back to Llangollen, Illinois glanced at the date on his watch and laughed.  Whitney gave him a confused look from the backseat.  “It’s a good thing we’re going to London,” he elaborated.  “This year’s big social for the Society of Paleontologists is in three days.  I totally forgot about it.  Do you still want to go, Whitney?”

She nodded.  “Actually, this is good.  We can ask around if they’ve been offered the text, especially the ones who are college professors.  Some of the bigger colleges have museums of their own.”

“Good idea,” Hawaii said as she started the car. “So we’re off to London then.  Wow, I haven’t been there in years.  I’ll have to hit Oxford and say hi to all my old professors.”

“Didn’t you say Victoria had a house there, too?” Illinois asked.  At Hawaii’s nod, he added, “You’ll have to go see if that’s where she’s staying.  But don’t tell her that we suspect she took the text.”

“Of course not,” she said.  “We’ll just get her to spill the beans on accident somehow.”

The day of the big social, Whitney was out shopping for a dress, Illinois was meeting with Kimberly Wells to give an update on their investigation, and Hawaii was standing on the sidewalk, looking up at a townhouse.  She glanced at the paper in her hand, to double-check the address.  It was correct.  Taking a deep breath, she headed up the walk and rang the bell.  Less than a minute later, an unknown man answered the door.

“Yes?” Methos asked.

“Hi, I’m a friend of Victoria’s.  Is she here?”  Right as Hawaii said that, the girl in question appeared at the door as well.

“Hey, Hawaii.  What’s up?” Victoria asked neutrally.

“I have to talk with you,” Wai replied.  She glanced at Methos.  “Alone.”

“Oh, sorry!  Hawaii, this is Adam Pierson, a good friend of mine.  Adam, Eva ‘Hawaii’ Davids,” Victoria said.  “Yeah, sure we can talk.  Come on in.”

“Nice to meet you,” Methos said, looking over Hawaii.  She was beautiful, in an exotic sort of way.  She had classic features, but the tan and sun-streaked hair of someone who lived in the tropics.  In short, she slightly intrigued him.  “I was about to leave anyway.  I have some errands to run.  I’ll be home for dinner, Toria.”  She said good-bye and he headed for a car parked on the street by Hawaii’s.

Hawaii followed Victoria into a living room and joined her on the couch.  “If you don’t mind me saying so,” Hawaii began.  “Adam is gorgeous!  Where have you been hiding him?”

Victoria rolled her eyes.  “You remember me telling you about my teacher Arthur Jenkins?  That’s him.”

“That’s the infamous Arthur Jenkins?  Wow, now I really am impressed,” Hawaii said with a grin.

“So what’s up, Eva?” Victoria asked.  “How come you’re in London now?”

There was a reason Hawaii helped out with the drama department at the University of Hawaii on occasion.  She was a natural.  After sighing in a mix of worry and exasperation, she said, “Well, Illy, Whitney, and I went to Cherbourg to check out Illy’s contacts and sign on.  We worked for one day, and that night, someone came in and stole the text and all of our notes.  I hate to sound suspicious, but did you tell anyone about it?”

Staring at her, Victoria shook her head.  “I haven’t been to Cherbourg in years,” she said.  Which, of course, was technically true, since she and Elizabet hadn’t driven through the city to get to the site.  “And I only mentioned it to two people, but only in passing, and nothing about what you were looking for.  I didn’t even say you were in Cherbourg.”  Which was also technically true.  Elizabet’s friend had hacked into the Legacy database and found the records.

Hawaii sunk back onto the couch.  “Damn.  We’d only started to translate them, too.”  She glanced at her watch.  “I have to go.  It took me longer than I thought to find your house.  I’m supposed to meet Illinois and Whitney back at the hotel before they leave for some function Illy has to go to.”  She looked at Victoria.  “We’ll have to get together again later, hmm?”  Victoria nodded, and showed her to the door.  After exchanging good-byes, Hawaii headed out to her car and disappeared down the street.

An hour later, Methos came back to find Victoria making dinner.  “I thought your friend would still be here,” he said casually and poured the drinks.

Victoria rolled her eyes.  “You can’t fool me, old man,” she said with a grin.  “You know you like her.”

“Do grow up, child,” was the only reply.  Victoria brought over the bowls of soup and basket of bread to the kitchen table, and they both sat down.  “What did she want?”

“Somebody stole the manuscript,” she said simply.  “I said nothing, and Hawaii thinks I have nothing to do with it.  I hate lying to her, though.  She’s a good friend.”  Putting down her spoon she stared at Methos.  “I just had an incredible idea.”  Methos gave her a quizzical look.  “Why don’t we tell them the truth?  Hawaii knows about Immortals and that you were Arthur Jenkins.  We can tell them about Immortals, leaving out all the Gathering crap, and that you were Merlin.”

“Problem.  The name Methos is in the journals,” he said, though liking the idea.  It would probably give him the chance to see Hawaii again.  “How are you going to explain that?  And when are you going to write your novel with all these brilliant ideas of yours?” he asked sarcastically.

“Now who should grow up?” she asked with a laugh.  “And easy, Methos can be a different spelling of Merlin that didn’t last through the years.”

Methos began to nod.  “It could work.  And we could ask to join the team, so I can see what other old junk of mine is lying around.”  Reaching up, he grabbed the cordless phone off the wall behind him.  “Call her.”

Part 8

Whitney smoothed the front of her new evening gown and gave Illinois an amused glance.  He looked very uncomfortable in his rented tuxedo.  The two stood in line to show their tickets for admission to the annual ball hosted by the Society of Paleontologists.  When they finally got into the room, Illy snagged two glasses of champagne for them.  He then proceeded to look very out of place.

“So, what is one supposed to do at these functions?” Whitney asked.  Her boyfriend merely grimaced

“Brag about your latest findings, suck up to others if you haven’t made one recently, and try to look important,” he replied.  “And then there are those like me who everyone ignores.”  Whitney nodded sagely, but did not say anything.

Suddenly, Illinois inhaled sharply and cursed fluently and colorfully in Spanish.  Grabbing Whitney by the arm, he led her through the crowd towards a group of pompous looking men.  “I see someone I know.  We have a bit of score to settle.”

When they reached the circle, one of the men nodded slightly at Illinois.  “Gentlemen, may I introduce Dr. William Smith of the University of Illinois.  I believe some of you may be aware of his exploits.”  The men all chuckled.

“Hey, I’ve heard of you.  Attacked by any monks lately, Smith?” a short, fat man asked, his face growing red in an effort to control his laughter.

Illinois carefully controlled his temper.  “Why Dr. Zhen, I’m surprised you remember me.  You must have a monster of a memory.  Let me introduce you to my date, Whitney Mackenzie.  Whitney, Dr. Samuel Zhen.”

Zhen reached for her hand and mock-kissed it with a slight bow.  “Charmed.”  He looked back at Illinois.  “My memory is no better than yours, I’ve merely had-” He was interrupted by the sounds of a ruckus at the entrance to the ballroom.  Everyone turned to look.

There stood Hawaii accompanied by Victoria and an unknown man.  Hawaii was arguing loudly with the ticket man.  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t allow you in without a ticket or the proper attire.”

“Well, I don’t friggin’ care-hey, let go of me!  I’ve got to talk to my cousin-” She broke away from him and ran through the shocked paleontologists towards Illy and Whitney.  Victoria followed closely behind, and the unknown man stayed by the door, pinning the ticket man with a fierce glare.  The anthropologist reached her cousin then stopped dead in her tracks, causing Victoria to nearly run into her.  “Bloody hell!  I know you!” she cried, pointing at Zhen.  “What did you do with Bren-?”  But Illinois and Whitney had grabbed her by the arms and led her out of the ballroom, Victoria and the unknown man following.

Once they got outside, Illinois turned to face his cousin.  “What was so important that you had to risk my reputation for?  And who’s he?” he added, gesturing towards Methos.

“Please, your rep is nowhere near as skewed as mine is.  And this is Adam Pierson.  Now can we please go somewhere to talk in private,” Hawaii said exasperatedly.

“Fine, we’ll meet you back at the hotel,” Illinois replied shortly, and stalked off towards his car.  Whitney grinned at Hawaii and trailed after him.

Hawaii paced the floor of her hotel room impatiently while Illinois and Whitney changed out of their formalwear.  Victoria and Methos sprawled comfortably in the two chairs and watched her with identical amused expressions on their faces.

“Calm down, Wai.  You’re going to wear a hole through the floor,” Victoria said, trading a grin with Methos.

“I can’t be calm!  This is the discovery of the millennium!”  Before Methos could interrupt, she continued.  “It just really sucks that I can’t tell anybody about it.  I mean, Merlin!  Alive and well after all these years.  The truth of what happened to Arthur and Guinevere and Lancelot could finally be told-“

“But it has,” Victoria put in.  Hawaii turned to stare at her.  “I know you’ve read Arthur and Avalon.  I gave you the book.  My book.”  Hawaii was silent.

“By Vicki Kest,” Methos put in helpfully.  “Victoria DiThon Kestral.  Same person.  Her.”  He pointed at his former student, who nodded at Hawaii.

She plopped down on one of the beds and put her face in her hands, muttering, “This is insane.  This cannot be happening.  This would make my career!”

They heard a knock at the door, and Victoria rose to answer it.  Illinois and Whitney followed her back into the room.  “So, what’s this all about?” Whitney asked, studying Methos.  The ancient Immortal matched her gaze without a flinch, something she found very unnerving.

Hawaii looked up at them.  “First of all, we have the manuscript back.  I was right, Victoria stole it.  She had a pretty decent explanation, though,” she added before Illy could comment.

Illinois narrowed his eyes at Victoria, who took that as her cue to do some talking, quick.  “Here’s the thing.  I’m Immortal, but I’m not that old, even at two hundred and fifteen.”

“I’m older than you,” Whitney put in, a small smile on her face.  “Not by much, though.”

The apparent teenager raised an eyebrow at that.  “Okay, you’re going to have to explain that one to me later, since you’re not an Immortal, a vampire, or a werecreature – I could tell if you were.  Anyway, Adam here is Immortal, too.  He’s a hell of a lot older than I am, though.  Well, he was Merlin.”  At that, Victoria sat back and waited for the inevitably humorous reply.  She was not disappointed.

Whitney merely stared at him, and Illinois’ jaw dropped.  “You’re like Victoria?  You’re really Merlin?” he asked.  Methos nodded.

“The manuscript you found was part of my journals and contained information about Immortals and Immortality in general.  Victoria was afraid it would be published, so I asked her to steal it for me.  We didn’t know you would track her down to find it,” Methos explained.

“So we’ll make you a deal,” Victoria put in.  “Tell those other people you’re working with that you couldn’t find the manuscript, and we’ll go to France and help with the rest of the dig.  Adam can pose as an amateur archaeologist with an interest in Arthurian mythology.  I’ll just be along for the ride.”

“I can even drop enough facts to look credible,” Methos said, a small smile on his face.

Illinois looked at Hawaii and sighed.  “Okay, fine.  Let’s go back to France.  I’ll call for plane tickets in the morning.”

“I’ll even pay for them,” Victoria said with a mischievous grin.  “Least I can do, since Adam supposedly never has any money.  But first you have to tell me how the hell you’re older than me, Whitney.”

Part 9

Three days later found them back in Cherbourg at the dig site.  Unfortunately, Davies, Jessika, and Kimberly had been called off the dig to work on something else in Wales.  So Hawaii, Illinois, Whitney, Victoria, and Methos were left with only a single young man from the Celtic Preservation Society for supervision.

Illinois lasted exactly one hour of excavation before he finally exploded at Rick Evanson.  “No, no, no!  You can’t do that!  You have to-“

“Illy,” Wai’s calm voice broke in from her spot next to her cousin.  “Give the kid a break.  He obviously has no clue what he’s doing, and you can’t blame him for trying.”  She felt sorry for him, since he stumbled along so eagerly – exactly like most of her freshmen.

Rick merely flushed a brilliant shade of crimson that she had noticed and nodded.  “I’ve never been on an archeological dig before; my specialty is examining the stuff after it’s been dug up.  But we’re really shorthanded all of a sudden, because of what happened in San Fran- anyway, I was the only one available to come out here.”

Hawaii looked confused.  “How could an organization like the CPS be shorthanded?”  But before Rick could answer, a shout came from the hill above them.  All three turned to see Whitney, Victoria, and Methos heading their way.  Hawaii waved back.

“So, find anything interesting?” Methos asked amiably when they reached the tent.  The three shook their heads.  “Well, keep looking.  I’m sure there should be something worthwhile under all that dirt.”  Inwardly, he grinned.  He knew exactly what they would find if they looked hard enough, though it was not actually buried where they were looking.  And he knew Victoria had figured it out by now, too.  It would be up to the others to decide whether anything else was around worth searching for.

“Well, I’m for a break,” Hawaii said and stood up, brushing dirt off of her ratty jeans.  She glanced at Victoria.  “Rick, why don’t you go rummage us up some lunch before Illinois tries to take your head?”  That was her signal that the five needed to talk.  Luckily, Rick merely nodded and headed towards the supplies.

“’Tries to take your head’ – cute, Wai,” Victoria said with a grin.  “What’s up?”

Instead of answering, Hawaii glanced at Methos.  “Why do I get the suspicious feeling that you know exactly what’s we’re searching for, and you’re not telling us?”

He merely stared back.  “I don’t know, why?”

“Don’t play games with me, Adam.  I read Arthur and Avalon.  You crossed the Channel and buried the sword above it.  If your journal was here, Caliburn has to be here, too.”  She narrowed her eyes at the world’s oldest Immortal.

Victoria and Whitney, who had immediately hit it off after getting to know each other, grinned.  The two had had a three-hour conversation at a tiny café the night before, and both thought Methos and Hawaii would make a great couple.  But Victoria knew that Methos would not give Caliburn, sword of legend, up easily.

But to her immense surprise, Methos merely sighed and nodded.  Turning, he headed off at a brisk walk across the grassy expanse of the cliff.  Victoria’s eyes widened in surprise, and she immediately took off after him.  The remaining three glanced at each other, then followed at a more leisurely place.

Grabbing his arm, Victoria pulled her former teacher towards her and hissed, “Are you insane, Methos?  You hid Caliburn for a reason.  What if something that powerful fell into the wrong hands?”

“Then we’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t,” he answered sharply and kept walking.  Victoria sighed, but stayed on his heels.

By now they were into the dense woods that surrounded the cliff.  After a few minutes, the two Immortals came out into a small clearing with a tiny, still pond in the center of it.  Victoria thought it odd that not much vegetation was growing in the center of it, though the plant life surrounding the pond teemed with life.  Stopping at the edge, Methos knelt on one leg, and drew his sword.  Laying it across his knee, he nodded to Victoria to do the same.

She did so, feeling slightly foolish.  When she was settled, she realized that the woods surrounding them had grown oddly silent.  She strained her ears for sounds of Illy, Wai, and Whitney crashing through the underbrush after them, but heard nothing.  Finally, with a glance at Methos, who had not moved but was staring intently into the water, Victoria opened up all her senses and stifled a gasp.  While seeing human auras required the touch of another Immortal, she had always had to actively shield out the lines of power that ran through the natural world.  The small pond was a maelstrom of swirling energy, which had leaked out into the woods surrounding.  Victoria quickly shut down that particular sense before it could blind her, and knelt breathing heavily in shock.

But on top of that surprise came another.  Rising slowly out of the water was the tip of a sword.  Easily recognizable as a Celtic broadsword, it was similar to the one lying across Victoria’s knee.  Attached to the sword was the arm of a woman, strangely pale.  After what seemed like an instant and forever, a ghostlike woman hovered a few inches above the water of the pond.  She was resplendent in silver, blue, and green robes, and had silver hair and eyes.  The woman did not look washed out, but seemed to glow from within.  She brought the point of the sword to the “ground” and seemed to float towards the two Immortals kneeled in front of her.

“Merlin,” she finally said in a voice pure as a bell.  “I see you have at last brought your most recent student to meet me.  And do not look so startled, you know I have a way of knowing these things.”  Victoria was more than a bit surprised at the impish happiness in the ghostly woman’s voice, and the playful smile that touched her lips.

“Yes, Lady,” Methos said in a quiet voice.  “May I present Victoria DiThon Kestral.”

The figure tilted her head and studied her.  “Stand, child.”  What could Victoria do but follow the pale woman’s directions?  “I am willing to bet that you are more than a touch confused.  I am the Lady of the Lake – and I’m sure Merlin has told you about me.  I’m the one who gave Arthur the sword Caliburn.”

With a speed that amazed even her, Victoria finally put all the pieces together.  All the sudden pictures and cloudy images she had seen in the in the odd lake or pond in the past two hundred years of her life.  The fact that she had never drowned in water, but had always managed to find something floating within reach to help her.  The Lady nodded her head regally, as if following Victoria’s thoughts.

“Yes, I have had an interest in you for most of your life, and not just because of Merlin.  You are another of the few Immortals with the ability to see beyond the realm of the physical world.  You can see magic,” she explained.  “Merlin is one, as is your brother Justin Le Faye.  There are others whom you know, but that is not the purpose of your visit.”  She abruptly turned to Methos.  “You want the sword.  Why?”

Methos also stood, and re-sheathed his sword.  “To prove to those children out there that just because something has been used for the powers of good doesn’t mean it can’t be wielded for evil.”

“Oh, and what do you consider yourself, Merlin?  Good, or evil?” the Lady asked.  “I know, I know, you told me never to ask you that question again – “

“As if I could tell you what to do, Lady,” Methos interrupted.  She gave him a withering look.  “I do admit to a certain impulse to want prove to them that the stories are true, though.  Telling and showing are two different things.  If fact, I think the only one who’s ever believed me completely without proof is Victoria.”

The Lady nodded.  “I can understand that.  So, I will let you have Caliburn.  Under one condition: you must carry it as your fighting sword.  I’ll not let it go to waste.”  Methos nodded, and she handed him the sword in her hand.  Nodding to Victoria, the Lady of the Lake slipped once more back into the water.

Methos grinned at his former student.  “Well, now you know.  She does exist, and so does Caliburn.”  He hefted the sword experimentally and nodded.  “Just what I like about Avalon – the bloody thing’s exactly as I remember it.”

“As if I ever doubted you, old man.  I am kind of stunned though,” she admitted.

Just then, they heard a crashing through the underbrush behind them, and their three companions emerged into the small clearing.  “Whoa,” Illy said.  “How’d you get the sword so fast?  Where was it?”

Victoria gave him a confused look.  “What do you mean, ‘so fast’?”

Hawaii tilted her head at Victoria.  “You two disappeared into the woods only about thirty seconds ahead of us.”

“So let me get this straight,” Whitney said, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.  “You won’t explain why, but you just can’t tell us exactly how you managed to produce a mythical and supposedly magical sword so fast, devoid of dirt and any others signs of where you hid it?”

Methos nodded silently.  Hawaii looked at the other Immortal.  “Victoria?  Come on, it’s me.  I’ve kept your secret for what, over ten years now?”

Victoria grinned ruefully at her friend.  “Sorry, Wai, but it’s not up to me to say.”

Illinois held up a hand.  “Okay, so what do we do now?”

Part 10

Ring-

“Yes?”

“Sir?  It’s Rick Evanson.  They have the sword.”

“Good.  Very good.  Thank you, Evanson, you’ll find the money in your account tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Dr. Zhen.”

“Very well, continue your reports concerning the western European Legacy Houses.  I will be in contact.”

Click.  Click.

Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  Ri-

“Umph…Hello?”

“Victoria, wake up.  An old friend of mine just called, she said someone’s hunting us.”

“Methos – what?  You and me, or Immortals in general?”

“Hunters.  Capital H.”

“Bloody hell.  That’s so just what we need at the moment…wait a sec, where are you?  It’s one o’clock in the friggin’ morning.”

“Meet me at Fifth and Elm.  She said there was only a group of five, so we can take them easily.”

“If they kill me and send Justin my head, I will haunt you forever.  You know that’s my worst nightmare.”

“I know.  Bring your gun.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.  Let’s kick some Hunter ass.”

“I knew you’d see it that way.  I’ll be waiting.”

Click.  Click.

Victoria stepped out of the cab and headed towards the streetlight Methos was casually leaning against.  In Greek, the language he had taught her while under his tutelage, she asked, “So, where are these nice psychotic Hunters that we get to kill?”

“Three are in the car down the street, one’s in the alley across the way, and the fifth is in the coffee shop behind us.  Pop quiz: what’s the plan?”

She thought for a moment, her experienced mercenary mind working over the variables.  He loved to test his former student this way.  “We head slowly down the street towards the car.  The other two will follow us.  We can’t pretend we’re drunk if they’ve been watching you, so we’ll just have to act the confused mortals and throw them off.”

“Adam Pierson is a relatively new Immortal,” Methos added.  “They won’t expect much from him.  But they already underestimated you once, so we’ll just have to hope they don’t recognize you.”

Victoria smirked in amusement.  “This is going to be fun.”

Her former teacher shook his head.  “I’m always amazed at how bloodthirsty you are, especially when it comes to the Hunters.  Not that they don’t deserve it...” The two slowly walked down the street, arms wrapped around each other and pretending to be just a normal couple heading home from a night on the town.  Victoria’s elegant clothes and height easily made her appear much older than she seemed, especially in the dim glare of the streetlights.

“The other two are following,” Victoria said softly.  “There’s the car.”  By then the followers had stopped being subtle and were trailing about twenty feet behind the two Immortals.  All four stopped when the car doors opened and three more men stepped out.  Two of them held swords.  Victoria and Methos broke apart and simultaneously drew their own swords and guns, backs to each other.  “Now this is just peachy keen,” the younger Immortal muttered in English when she saw that the two followers also held guns.

“So what type of Hunters are you?” Methos called out mockingly towards the three that had been in the car.  “Former Watchers?  Government agents?  Men in Black?”

One stepped forward and gestured to Methos with his gun.  “We want the sword.  Now, and we won’t have to hurt you.”

To Methos’ surprise, Victoria laughed harshly and spun around.  Her sword launched from her hand directly towards the three.  It paused in mid-air, controlled by her telekinesis, tip pointed at the leader’s throat.  Her dagger appeared in her empty hand.  “You don’t want the sword.  Trust me.”

The leader again spoke.  “Kill them.”  Methos and Victoria immediately fired, but they were still outnumbered.  Victoria’s sword clattered to the ground as she quickly took three rounds in the back.  Methos managed to graze the leader’s arm before he too fell.

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This page was last updated: 6.18.4 ~jlg~