Sacrifice 2/6
They talk about the case as they eat.
“I know you read everything we emailed Sam before we arrived, Dean,” Ailani says, one slender finger tapping the hard copy of the file. She had declined the offered pizza, asking for a glass of water instead. “We’ve been filling in a few blanks for Sam while you and Jameson were working on the plane.”
Sam takes over. “Ailani and the others believe that a dragon child was stolen from a newly excavated temple at Mokuʻula in Halaina. They aren’t sure if it was an accident--a tourist or excavator picking up what they believed was a small statue and carrying it away, or if it was the deliberate theft of a mo’o child.”
“We can’t rule out either possibility,” Susan says, her expression grim. “But we are leaning toward deliberate kidnapping. Tourists aren’t allowed in the excavation site, and the archaeologists and other workers are all carefully vetted before being hired. We’ve used native Hawaiian workers whenever possible, men and women who understand the importance of this project and will approach the work with the proper reverence and dignity.”
“Wait,” Dean interrupts. “Are we talking about a statue or something alive? Because no offense, but there’s a big difference.”
“The mo’o have slept for many years, Dean,” Ailani answers. “As you know, Gods gain power from the number and strength of their followers. When the royal complex was built over and her sacred ponds filled in, Kihawahine and the other mo’o went into a sort of stasis, sleeping until their people needed them again. Now, that time has come. The mo’o are awakening, and there are those who believe who wish to control them and their power. We believe one of them has taken a mo’o child, a young girl named Leinani, to what end we can only guess.”
“Probably not anything good,” Dean says bleakly. He pushes away his plate, appetite suddenly gone. “What makes you think they brought the kid here? Sam and I have been here several years, we’ve been in town enough to know that there’s not a big Hawaiian population. And we’ve definitely not seen evidence of any sort of dragon worshipping cult.”
“I wasn’t sure until we arrived,” Ailani says. “But there can be no mistake.” Ailani reaches into the woven bag hanging from her chair pulls out a smooth stone. It’s a long oval, shaped to look like a scale, and it glows faintly with a pale, icy blue that reminds Sam of the blue light that shone from Lucifer’s eyes--and Michael’s as well. He throws a sharp look over at Dean and isn’t surprised to see his brother’s face pale and set.
Susan tenses next to Sam, and Sam sees Kerr’s fist clench on the table where he’s sitting next to Dean. Jameson’s expression is grim and angry as he looks between the two brothers.
“Ailani--” Jameson whispers, breaking the shocked silence. “Ailani, I--”
“I know,” she says softly. “I know. I didn’t want it to be true either.” She rubs her temples, small circular motions that Sam recognizes all too well, stress and pain marring her lovely features.
“Can someone tell me and Sam what that is and what it means?” Dean sounds strained, on edge, and Sam doesn’t blame him. He has a feeling he knows what that light means, and if he’s right things are going to get ugly fast.
“It means, Dean Winchester, that you and your brother are going to die slowly and painfully if you do not bring us the child you’ve stolen from me immediately.”
There’s a split second of stunned silence, followed by a brief, abortive explosion of movement. Dean’s gun is out and pointed at Kerr, caught mid-gesture and mid-spell.
“Witch-killing bullets, bitch,” Dean snarls, and tosses Sam a smile so hard and bright and sharp that anyone else would bleed to death on the edges. “Good thing I kept those around, right, Sam?”
Sam doesn’t take his eyes off Ailani or his gun off Susan, trusting Dean to handle Jameson and Kerr. “Good thing, though I hope we won’t need them.” He takes a deep breath. “Ailana. Kihawahine? We do not have Leinani, your child. But we will do everything in our power to help you find her if you let us.”
“Lies,” Ailani hisses, and Sam’s pretty sure he’s not imagining the way the air around her shimmers and wavers, or the way his eyes keep insisting that her form is no longer entirely human. “This scale is from my own body. It glows with my lifeforce, and that of my bloodline. My child--”
“Ailani, neither I nor my brother have ever been to Hawaii,” Sam says desperately. “There’s no way we could have taken Leinani, I swear--”
“There is one under your command who can travel at will,” Ailani says coldly. “And he can transport others as well. His kind have done us harm before.”
“Under our--does she mean Cass?” Dean asks incredulously. “Lady, I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but Cass won’t even do what we ask him to half the time, let alone follow our commands. Not to mention he hasn’t been able to do anything useful like teleport or heal consistently in years.” Dean shrugs, his gun never wavering. “We don’t even know where he is, he went on vacation weeks ago and we haven’t gotten so much as a postcard.”
Ailani regards Dean with brilliant, jewel-like eyes. “The scale would not glow if she was not here!” Rage gathers around her, almost visible as she summons more power.
“Ailani, please. Remember what we’re here for.” Jameson steps forward, ignoring Dean’s growl to stay back. “I know we have reasons not to trust these Legacies, but if you kill them now you won’t be strong enough to find Leinani.”
“Ailani, I don’t know what’s happening now with your daughter, or why you don’t think you can trust us,” Sam says earnestly, mustering as much sincerity as he can. “But we have been open and welcoming and honest, and all we want is to help you. Please let us.”
The room falls quiet as Ailani struggles to contain her anger and grief. Jameson rushes to her side, arm around her shoulders as he guides her back to her seat and kneels beside her. She slumps over the table, face in her hands, as Jameson speaks softly. At last he presses a gentle kiss against her temple and stands, though he doesn’t leave her side as she straightens.
“Please forgive my lack of control,” she says tiredly. “I have not been awake very long, and I am desperately worried for my daughter.”
Sam shoots a quick look at Dean, who nods and tucks his gun away and warily takes his seat. Sam does the same, and the tension level in the room drops again, as much as it can when there’s a dragon sitting at the dinner table.
Dean is the first to break the silence. “So how exactly does this scale work?” he asks bluntly. “Since Sam and I know the kid’s not here, something’s got to be off.”
“All beings contain life energy,” Kerr answers, still a little pale and not looking directly at Dean. “Everywhere we go, we leave traces behind. The more time we spend in one place, the more energy that place accrues. Your home would be full of your energy, even though it dissipates with time, the coffee shop you visit once a week not so much. This scale is attuned to Ailani’s life energy, and that of her descendants. For the scale to glow the way it did means that Leinani has definitely been here, and not just briefly.”
“But that’s impossible,” Sam says, frustrated. “No one but us has been here for any length of time in over 70 years.”
“Time does work strangely in some of the bunkers,” Susan says reluctantly. Her voice shakes a little as she continues, and Sam feels a prickle of guilt. “It’s possible that Leinani was here some time ago but their essence hasn’t faded.”
“If that’s the case, then is it also possible...Susan, you and Kerr mentioned that you thought the child had been taken recently from an archaeological dig. Is it possible she was taken before and no one knew?”
Susan glances over at Ailani, biting her lip. “I don’t know,” she admits.
Ailani raises her head wearily. “It’s possible,” she says, voice low. “I didn’t want to admit that I didn’t feel my daughter being stolen from me, even to myself, but it’s possible.”
“We came here because my spell indicated this location on the map,” Kerr says. “And the fact that there’s bad blood between the Lebanon branch and basically every other Men of Letters group on the planet…”
“You mentioned that before,” Sam interrupts. “What exactly did our ancestors do?”
“When you join the Men of Letters, you’re assigned to a chapter,” Susan explains. “You’re bound to that group, you and your descendants. That’s how you and Dean became Legacies. And you’re bound to this location. It takes pretty powerful magic to sever that connection--it’s literally in your blood.”
“And for whatever reason, this particular branch tends to produce members who are somewhat...larger than life,” Jameson says, shrugging. “Sometimes good, sometimes bad. Truth be told, there were some sighs of relief when it looked like this bloodline had died out, especially the Winchester line.”
Dean raises an eyebrow. “That why you were dodging my questions earlier? And just where do Sam and I fall on that scale?”
Jameson grins. “Hey, I didn’t want to get on your bad side right off the bat--and given that you just pulled a gun on a dragon I’d say I was right.” He shrugs again. “Jury’s out on you and Sam. The two of you have done some crazy shit, but so far it seems to have mostly worked out okay. There are those who think you should be killed and those who think you should be applauded, but everyone agrees it’s good that your line will end with you.”
“So you came here thinking that Sam and I had stolen Ailani’s daughter, because our ancestors weren’t always the good guys.” Dean doesn’t sound very happy about that assessment.
“Yes.” Ailani sounds stronger, more sure of herself. “And because it would not be the first time someone from the Lebanon chapter tried to steal a dragon. The souls that maintain your homes grow weak and old after a time, just as your bodies do. When this branch was established one hundred and fifty years ago, the founders decided they didn’t want to sacrifice one of their own to power it. Instead, they sought out one of us. They knew that if they could bind one of our souls to this place, none of them would have to give up their own lives for a very long time.” She gives Sam and Dean a hard look. “They nearly succeeded but were driven off by our protectors and worshippers. Reparations and promises were made, promises that were clearly not intended to be kept.”
“You can’t blame us for things--”
“Dean--” Sam interrupts Dean’s aggrieved tirade.
“We know that now,” Kerr says. “At least, we’re willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. It’s obvious that you are completely ignorant of your history and the Men of Letters.”
“Not entirely,” Dean says darkly, and Kerr swallows nervously. "What the hell do you mean there's a soul bound to this building? Are you saying that every time we run the A/C or turn on the stove we're draining away some poor sap's soul?"
"Yes.Yes!" Ailani interrupts, eyes gleaming with a touch of madness. "That's what they want to do to my daughter, my Leinani. You have to find her, before it's too late!" Mist starts to rise around her as she becomes more agitated, and Jameson nods frantically toward the hallway, signaling them all to leave the room. He stays behind, and the last thing Sam sees is his arms wrapped around her as she weeps.
Chapter 3
https://a-dean-girl.livejournal.com/5363.html