"Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run"
Title: Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run
Author: Rissy James
Characters: Cain, DG, Glitch, Raw (appearances by: Jeb, Tutor, Lavender, Azkadellia, Ahamo)
Pairing: Cain/DG
Rating: 14+ (subject to change)
Summary: The fade to black was merely the blink of an eye. Respite for only seconds. After all, the road is long.
Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run
When Last We Met: With great unease, the four heroes try to settle in Finaqua, fulfilling the final wishes of Lavender, who lingers near death. For Cain, the greater danger lies not in Lavender's fate or the negligible threat of the New Resistance, but in DG.
Chapter Twelve: Out of Central City
The night would not end, and Cain seemed to finally be coming to the end of his fuse. He was scrabbling for purchase, though, his grip on his patience tenacious at best, but the night would not end.
He'd waited at the gazebo, ears straining until he'd heard the rustle of something tearing through the reedgrass; it had been no surprise to him when a blurry bit of fur and ferocity bounded out of the tall grass and up the steps, yapping something awful all the while.
"Who let you off the leash?" Cain had asked, cocking an eyebrow at the mutt at his feet.
Toto had slumped to laying, whimpered; he then took to panting, a miserable picture.
Cain had just grumbled, bent over to scoop the dog up, and had dutifully carried him up to the house. As was often the way, one thing led to another, to another until he found himself now, again with no surprise, surrounded by four very keyed-up individuals, discussing things that were far and beyond his realm of experience. With every passing second, ticking away there on the wall, their safety crumbled, the complications much more dire than even the moment before.
And no one looked like they planned on shutting up any time soon.
It was a drawing room in which they'd all met, coming together in pieces; Glitch had declared this out-of-the-way place as his own, and already the dust-laced tabletops and shelves were crowded with all manner of things the inventor had spirited away during his forays deeper into the palace. Potted plants, toys and trinkets, broken bits of miscellany, waiting for nimble fingers to work a mechanical magic. Mostly though, it was books, stacked and scattered and waiting. It was to this untouched, newly-claimed sanctuary that Cain first brought Toto, dumped him down onto the carpet, much to Glitch's protest about defiling the antiquity of said carpet with muddy boots, to say nothing of muddy paws.
When finally Glitch did take notice of the familiar beady eyes and stringy fur, his eyes went wide with disbelief. One word escaped his lips before they pursed shut again.
"Lavender."
Cain's jaw tightened as the dog before him disappeared in a blurry stretch of tweed and dark flesh. The tutor's eyes were serious, but when weren't they serious?
"Take the look off your face, Master Ambrose," Tutor said, shaking his head. He went straight to the largest of the sofas lining the walls, and eased himself down; at once at home, dog that he was. "Go and fetch the others, would you? I'd like to tell this story just the once."
Heavy feet carried Cain through the palace in the search for Raw; Glitch had volunteered to find DG, and Cain hadn't had reason to argue. His brief moment with the girl in the gazebo, under the glow of the lanterns, was still too fresh; every minute that went by until he saw her again was a minute in which he would regain control, composure. He hoped to give her that same opportunity, though the fact that it took Glitch almost an hour to track her down made him rethink his decision.
In the meantime, the greying old teacher took his time to recover. Raw had offered comfort, but Tutor had just waved him off; then, before taking to his shadowed corner, Cain had leaned against the wall near the door, arms folded across his chest, waiting. The three remained in silence, missing their louder counterparts, shifting uncomfortably every now and again. When finally, after a full pass of the hour hand on the wall clock, DG burst in the door, Cain had fully banished the softness that had been his chink earlier.
However, he hadn't been prepared for the sight of her stricken face, the panic in her sky eyes. But she didn't go to him, didn't even see him. She went straight to the mutt.
"Tutor, what's going on? Is my mother all right?"
Glitch slunk into the room; a sad, sheepish smile was on his face as he closed the door behind him. Cain frowned in his direction.
"Your mother is -" Tutor grunted as he pushed himself to his feet. "She's fine, DG, calm yourself."
"She's not fine," DG said, but stepped off just the same, a long exhale escaping her, as if she'd been holding onto it for the entire path she'd torn through the palace. "If she was, none of us would be here, even you." She continued to glare at her tutor, shutting out everyone else in the room.
"Maybe he came to give us the all clear," Glitch said hopefully, trying to mend the fix he'd put the tutor in.
Immediately, though very slowly, Tutor shook his head, sombre eyes set on Glitch.
"Lavender -"
Tutor cut him off. "Lavender lives," he said firmly, eyes now flicking to each of them in turn, making sure to drive his point home. "She lives. She's grown - she's very, very weak. Declined drastically, even since you left yesterday morning. Before then."
"She sleeps," Raw said softly; he stood near the fire, arms uselessly at his sides. That his hands weren't clasped in front of him, fingers tangled tight, worried Cain more than the words he'd said. It was the stance of the defeated, listless and lifeless.
"Yes," Tutor said, "she sleeps. Only sleeps now. It's lucky, in its way; Glinda only knows we could use Lavender's dreaming."
"Her dreaming?" DG asked, deterred only slightly.
"What little power she has left will find ways to work itself, so long as her blood is still pumping," he said. "We've talked on this before, DG. You've called it her mind-meddling."
"Oh, that dreaming."
At that point, Wyatt had moved casually away from the door, went to the windows on the pretence of checking the locks. There was no one to overhear them there, even if the sashes has been thrown high and wide open. Nothing outside but lake and grass, fathomless sky. It allowed him to turn his back on the others, to listen without staring, too put off by the pauses and distracted glances to focus on tone; nothing to stare at in the darkened glass but his own reflection, the hazy silhouettes moving about behind him.
DG. "I still don't understand why you're here, then."
After a moment, Tutor. "Your sister sent me."
"Azkadellia?" DG gave a short laugh. "I thought you weren't here to -"
"I'm not," he said, "I'm here to tell you not to return to Central City, however much you might want to."
She cannot go back.
Cain sighed, hooking his thumbs into his belt as he leaned one shoulder against the window frame. These new instructions vexed him. A very small, but very definite, distinction between don't return to Central City, and stay in Finaqua.
DG cut into his thoughts, tired and weighted; she still hadn't taken a first glance at him. "Okay, you told me," she said to Tutor, "and you're still standing there like you've got more to say."
Even the hoary reflection showed Tutor sliding his hands nervously into his coat pockets, a move that gave Cain reason enough to turn and watch them all more carefully. He hadn't expected this moment, had imagined more endless dancing over the next few days before he got down to the root of things; he wasn't ready when the moment came barging in on him, so to speak.
DG spoke. "Why can't I go back to Central City, Tutor?"
Cain smiled to himself. Good girl. He glanced to her, to the others; her mouth pressed into a tight line, Raw still trying his best to disappear, Glitch set to pacing in front of the door, standing guard in case any one of them tried to bolt, the dog-man's hands fumbling for a touchstone that wasn't there.
"You aren't too good at keeping secrets," Cain finally spoke up, his steady words causing the tutor's eyes to hit the floor. "I think it's about time you enlightened all of us. It's why you came, ain't it?"
"You're right," Tutor said, and then he chuckled, warmer than Cain had expected. The old man turned to DG, to whom the small laugh was for. "Where to begin."
She waited, oh how patiently she waited. If she were breathing, Cain couldn't discern by just looking. Still as stone, every one of them waited as she did, as the mutt put his words together, carefully stringing them so that he might get it right.
"First, DG, I don't want you to think that the resistance is any less of a threat to you or your family," he said sternly. "Never dismiss it as unimportant, do you hear me?"
DG's eyes widened, but she gave no compliance. "The resistance can't be a threat if you separated me from my sister," she said, though there was no conviction behind the words to lend them strength. Just words.
"No more of a threat today or yesterday than any day in the past few months," he said. "The fight at the gate two nights past was an opportune moment; merely a scapegoat."
"A scapegoat for what?" Glitch piped up, genuinely curious.
"Lavender," Tutor said heavily. "Her attempt to protect DG."
DG shook her head. "Azkadellia and I can protect each other. From anything. That's how you taught us." She crossed her arms over her chest.
Tutor squared his eyes on her. "Azkadellia cannot protect you from yourself, DG."
She laughed then, disbelievingly. "From myself?"
"She's not powerful enough," Glitch said, hopeful lilt directed at Tutor. "Is that right?"
"Yes, it is," Tutor replied unhappily.
"What am I going to do that I need protecting from?" DG asked; Wyatt could hear the control she fought to maintain, the shiver of anger across her features that was so easily swallowed away behind her mask of detachment. "Do they really think for a second that I'm going to lead a rebellion to fight Az for the throne? I don't want it, I've told them before, just because -"
"You don't understand, DG," Tutor said softly, holding up a large hand to silence her. "It has nothing to do with the throne, the crown, the Emerald, or the O.Z. itself."
"Then what?" She looked to no one else but her tutor.
He had no ready response, stumbled over what he'd had prepared as - well, what exactly, Cain wasn't sure. The tension around him weighed so heavily, his shoulders sagged. He looked about for somewhere to sit, and as his eyes turned away, Tutor gave DG her answer.
"Your mother worries - no, fears, fears that you will use your Light in an effort to help her. That you might even go so far as to - you must know this first -"
"I might even go so far as to what? Do what she did?"
"DG, please -"
She wasn't listening. She'd put both her hands into her hair, hiding her face behind her arms. "Damn it, why do I still listen to this woman? Why are any of us still listening to this woman?"
As she muttered this aloud, seemingly speaking to not a one of them in particular, Cain had fallen into a low-backed armchair tucked into a shadowed corner; with his elbows on his knees, he bowed his head into his hands. How had he fallen into this so unwittingly? Was he so much of a fool that a woman as oblivious and possibly mad as Lavender was could so easily and completely twist his life around on him?
He felt for the kid, truly, he did; he watched as she stood in the centre of the room, hands patting down her hair now as she swore an oath under her breath that would have made his undercity contacts blush.
Tutor stood silently before DG, watching her grumble and cuss with his mouth settled in an impatient line. He seemed to be waiting out her reaction, as if he'd expected it for all he hadn't known in the first place how he was going to tell her. On Azkadellia's order, he'd come; two more who had lost faith in Lavender's greater plan. Cain himself was glad he'd never been expected to put faith into it to begin with; it was tripe he wouldn't have, couldn't have swallowed.
It was Raw who pulled them all back together, out of their private hells. "DG never," was all he said.
The girl nodded fiercely. "He's right, I wouldn't ever - I wouldn't even know how, how can you expect - you of all people! - expect that I would know how to do something like that? Why didn't you tell her that? You know I can't!"
Tutor cleared his throat uncomfortably, shuffling his feet as he spoke. "Your magic is in your blood, DG, as much a part of your make-up than anything; there may come a day when your body will do as it will and you'll be powerless to stop it. Asking Azkadellia to do so is foolish - and dangerous."
DG had begun to tremble. From his shadowy vantage, Cain could see it quite clearly. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, watching and gauging her every response in a vain attempt to understand her mind, and more importantly, predict what action she might decide to take.
The others seemed to be watching her similarly; all eyes were on her, three dark sets and his own blues, she was their centre and she was lost, to them and to herself. She took no notice of them, none at all; closed in on herself as she took it all in, forced it to make sense, puzzle pieces with no semblance of colour, picture, only pieces meant to make a whole.
"So this is the truth, then?" she asked, small voiced, eyes to the wayside. "I'm not in control, I'm dangerous?"
"No, no," Tutor said, "you've misunderstood me."
"Like hell I have!"
Cain smirked, hiding it with a turn of his head, though he was all but disappeared as far as the others were concerned. It suited him just fine.
"Your mother made no conscious decision to save your life, child," Tutor said gravely. "Purely instinctual, primal, the kind of magic I can never, ever hope to teach you. You cannot train for it, can't learn it."
DG shook her head hard. "My mother is dying, Toto, dying, and you say she sent me away because I might try to save her? But what about Az -"
Tutor interrupted her, not meeting her eyes. "The bond isn't there."
"And how are you so sure the bond as you call it still exists between my mother and me?" she asked bitterly.
"There's hardly a doubt."
She wrinkled her nose, retorted petulantly, "Hardly."
Baleful dark eyes focused solely on her. "Your sketchbook, DG. Spending every day in that sickroom. And I scarcely need mention that heartbroken look on your face, Gods sakes girl, don't look at me like that; I've only followed my instructions as you have."
She closed her eyes, sniffled lightly. "How would you have me be, Toto?" Her voice as she said this was steady, not the faintest shiver to betray what must have been a tempest brewing inside of her; it reminded Cain, sharply, bitterly reminded him too much of the girl he'd encountered his first night back in Central City, keeping herself at a distance, unfeeling and hidden behind layers of royal masque.
Quiet fell once again, no answer to give the girl reassurance or strength. Only the shift and sigh of men too cowardly to tell her the shattering truth; that they were all pawns and mattered little, pride kept their tongues in their heads.
Raw had finally taken a seat in an occasional chair set against the wall near the fireplace; his head bowed, leaning slightly toward the dark, empty grate. Glitch seemed to be caught in a rare moment of stillness, his eyes working back and forth furiously as if the solution to life's problems were carved into the floor. And Cain himself? Still lurking in a shadowed corner, too absorbed in his own selfish anger to notice or care.
"I came here," Tutor began, but paused, cleared his throat. He glanced suddenly to Glitch, to Cain, a thin sheen of sweat now on his dark brow. His words were meant only for the princess, but constantly his gaze wandered, addressing all in the room. "I was sent here by Azkadellia, without the knowledge of Lavender or Ahamo. Especially Ahamo. He would strongly disagree with what I am about to tell you, and with good reason. I suspect there are others here who might feel the same."
The weight of this hit Cain square in the chest like a sackful of bricks; he sat up a little straighter.
"There - there may be a chance," he said. "A slim one, very slim."
DG, her keen ear detecting the sudden, small change in his tone, was on him in an instant. "Chance? A chance to what?"
He cleared his throat again, forcing the words past the block in his throat likely firmly put there by his conscience. "A chance to stop what's happening to Lavender, before -" Another pause before his voice returned, quieter, meek. "A chance to save her life."
DG paled; it was Glitch who responded, quietly and carefully. "Why haven't you spoken of this before?"
Tutor gave a weak half-smile. "I couldn't speak on anything until I was certain, and even then, Azkadellia had baulked at the idea of disobeying your mother's wishes. Now that Lavender is 'dreaming her sleep', as they say, she made up her mind to send me to you."
DG's head gave the slightest expectant shake as she waited with seemingly bated breath for him to continue. Glitch had moved closer in interest, and even Raw had looked up from the hearth. It was only Cain who wished that he could muzzle a man as easily as a dog; they were now discussing things that were far and beyond his realm of experience. With every passing second, ticking away there on the wall, their safety crumbled, the complications much more dire than even the moment before.
And no one looked like they planned on shutting up any time soon.
"Azkadellia believes there may be a higher authority that could be approached," Tutor said slowly, unentirely certain of himself, "one that may be able to stop the progression of your mother's... illness. Power that none of your line have ever known."
Glitch's face lit up with recognition, a familiar expression of wonder crossing his features. "You're joking, right? We don't believe those old stories, do we?" he asked with a dismissive laugh. "There's been no evidence of the existence of the High Four in the past -"
"Whom do you suppose DG pulled from her sister?" was Tutor's prompt response. "A lesser?"
Glitch blushed, stammered a pathetic string of incoherency.
"All right, you've gone way over my head again," DG said, holding her hands out in front of her in surrender. Cain, though he kept his mouth firmly clamped shut, agreed wholeheartedly, but his reasoning was surely - and quite literally - a world apart.
"It's said that the ancients worshipped four beings of great power," Glitch said in low tones. "Mention of them all but disappears with the arrival of Dorothy Gale, but for their persistent presence in legend, stories about good witches and wicked."
"Stories," DG said, skeptical.
"Stories say that when Dorothy Gale fell into the O.Z., she was given the gift of Light with which to rule the O.Z. by the last fading power, the Sorceress, Glinda. There's no mention of her - or any of the four - again in any official record that survived, and since the purge of knowledge during the war -"
"And you think the witch that possessed my sister is one of those four?"
Tutor shook his head. "Azkadellia knows, DG. She knows it to be true. The memories - there is no denying it."
Again, silence fell over them; Cain felt it bear down upon him so heavily that he would have gotten up and walked out of the room were DG and Glitch not planted right in front of the door. His every thought darkened with the knowledge that was being put onto the shoulders of the girl, and his heart ached to see her carry it so bravely. He could read her easy as he pleased now, and it scared the hell out of him. Why? Because she looked like she was being decisive, and that had never fared well for him. At least, not in the short term.
Then, she spoke, her voice as even as he'd ever heard it, laced with the kind of determination that would have done him proud had her words not shaken him so terribly.
"What does Azkadellia want us to do?"
Author's Note: I had to cut it here, lest it become too long and convoluted. Hopefully, the next chapter isn't long in coming. Encouragement always helps.
Table Of Contents
One - Two - Three - Four - Five
Six - Seven - Eight - Nine - Ten
Eleven - Twelve - Thirteen - Fourteen - Fifteen
Sixteen - Seventeen - Eighteen - Nineteen - Twenty
Twenty One - Twenty Two - Twenty Three - Twenty Four - Twenty Five
Twenty Six - Twenty Seven - Twenty Eight - Twenty Nine - Thirty
Thirty One - Thirty Two - Thirty Three - Thirty Four - Thirty Five
Thirty Six - Thirty Seven - Thirty Eight - Thirty Nine - Forty
Author: Rissy James
Characters: Cain, DG, Glitch, Raw (appearances by: Jeb, Tutor, Lavender, Azkadellia, Ahamo)
Pairing: Cain/DG
Rating: 14+ (subject to change)
Summary: The fade to black was merely the blink of an eye. Respite for only seconds. After all, the road is long.
Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run
When Last We Met: With great unease, the four heroes try to settle in Finaqua, fulfilling the final wishes of Lavender, who lingers near death. For Cain, the greater danger lies not in Lavender's fate or the negligible threat of the New Resistance, but in DG.
Chapter Twelve: Out of Central City
The night would not end, and Cain seemed to finally be coming to the end of his fuse. He was scrabbling for purchase, though, his grip on his patience tenacious at best, but the night would not end.
He'd waited at the gazebo, ears straining until he'd heard the rustle of something tearing through the reedgrass; it had been no surprise to him when a blurry bit of fur and ferocity bounded out of the tall grass and up the steps, yapping something awful all the while.
"Who let you off the leash?" Cain had asked, cocking an eyebrow at the mutt at his feet.
Toto had slumped to laying, whimpered; he then took to panting, a miserable picture.
Cain had just grumbled, bent over to scoop the dog up, and had dutifully carried him up to the house. As was often the way, one thing led to another, to another until he found himself now, again with no surprise, surrounded by four very keyed-up individuals, discussing things that were far and beyond his realm of experience. With every passing second, ticking away there on the wall, their safety crumbled, the complications much more dire than even the moment before.
And no one looked like they planned on shutting up any time soon.
It was a drawing room in which they'd all met, coming together in pieces; Glitch had declared this out-of-the-way place as his own, and already the dust-laced tabletops and shelves were crowded with all manner of things the inventor had spirited away during his forays deeper into the palace. Potted plants, toys and trinkets, broken bits of miscellany, waiting for nimble fingers to work a mechanical magic. Mostly though, it was books, stacked and scattered and waiting. It was to this untouched, newly-claimed sanctuary that Cain first brought Toto, dumped him down onto the carpet, much to Glitch's protest about defiling the antiquity of said carpet with muddy boots, to say nothing of muddy paws.
When finally Glitch did take notice of the familiar beady eyes and stringy fur, his eyes went wide with disbelief. One word escaped his lips before they pursed shut again.
"Lavender."
Cain's jaw tightened as the dog before him disappeared in a blurry stretch of tweed and dark flesh. The tutor's eyes were serious, but when weren't they serious?
"Take the look off your face, Master Ambrose," Tutor said, shaking his head. He went straight to the largest of the sofas lining the walls, and eased himself down; at once at home, dog that he was. "Go and fetch the others, would you? I'd like to tell this story just the once."
Heavy feet carried Cain through the palace in the search for Raw; Glitch had volunteered to find DG, and Cain hadn't had reason to argue. His brief moment with the girl in the gazebo, under the glow of the lanterns, was still too fresh; every minute that went by until he saw her again was a minute in which he would regain control, composure. He hoped to give her that same opportunity, though the fact that it took Glitch almost an hour to track her down made him rethink his decision.
In the meantime, the greying old teacher took his time to recover. Raw had offered comfort, but Tutor had just waved him off; then, before taking to his shadowed corner, Cain had leaned against the wall near the door, arms folded across his chest, waiting. The three remained in silence, missing their louder counterparts, shifting uncomfortably every now and again. When finally, after a full pass of the hour hand on the wall clock, DG burst in the door, Cain had fully banished the softness that had been his chink earlier.
However, he hadn't been prepared for the sight of her stricken face, the panic in her sky eyes. But she didn't go to him, didn't even see him. She went straight to the mutt.
"Tutor, what's going on? Is my mother all right?"
Glitch slunk into the room; a sad, sheepish smile was on his face as he closed the door behind him. Cain frowned in his direction.
"Your mother is -" Tutor grunted as he pushed himself to his feet. "She's fine, DG, calm yourself."
"She's not fine," DG said, but stepped off just the same, a long exhale escaping her, as if she'd been holding onto it for the entire path she'd torn through the palace. "If she was, none of us would be here, even you." She continued to glare at her tutor, shutting out everyone else in the room.
"Maybe he came to give us the all clear," Glitch said hopefully, trying to mend the fix he'd put the tutor in.
Immediately, though very slowly, Tutor shook his head, sombre eyes set on Glitch.
"Lavender -"
Tutor cut him off. "Lavender lives," he said firmly, eyes now flicking to each of them in turn, making sure to drive his point home. "She lives. She's grown - she's very, very weak. Declined drastically, even since you left yesterday morning. Before then."
"She sleeps," Raw said softly; he stood near the fire, arms uselessly at his sides. That his hands weren't clasped in front of him, fingers tangled tight, worried Cain more than the words he'd said. It was the stance of the defeated, listless and lifeless.
"Yes," Tutor said, "she sleeps. Only sleeps now. It's lucky, in its way; Glinda only knows we could use Lavender's dreaming."
"Her dreaming?" DG asked, deterred only slightly.
"What little power she has left will find ways to work itself, so long as her blood is still pumping," he said. "We've talked on this before, DG. You've called it her mind-meddling."
"Oh, that dreaming."
At that point, Wyatt had moved casually away from the door, went to the windows on the pretence of checking the locks. There was no one to overhear them there, even if the sashes has been thrown high and wide open. Nothing outside but lake and grass, fathomless sky. It allowed him to turn his back on the others, to listen without staring, too put off by the pauses and distracted glances to focus on tone; nothing to stare at in the darkened glass but his own reflection, the hazy silhouettes moving about behind him.
DG. "I still don't understand why you're here, then."
After a moment, Tutor. "Your sister sent me."
"Azkadellia?" DG gave a short laugh. "I thought you weren't here to -"
"I'm not," he said, "I'm here to tell you not to return to Central City, however much you might want to."
She cannot go back.
Cain sighed, hooking his thumbs into his belt as he leaned one shoulder against the window frame. These new instructions vexed him. A very small, but very definite, distinction between don't return to Central City, and stay in Finaqua.
DG cut into his thoughts, tired and weighted; she still hadn't taken a first glance at him. "Okay, you told me," she said to Tutor, "and you're still standing there like you've got more to say."
Even the hoary reflection showed Tutor sliding his hands nervously into his coat pockets, a move that gave Cain reason enough to turn and watch them all more carefully. He hadn't expected this moment, had imagined more endless dancing over the next few days before he got down to the root of things; he wasn't ready when the moment came barging in on him, so to speak.
DG spoke. "Why can't I go back to Central City, Tutor?"
Cain smiled to himself. Good girl. He glanced to her, to the others; her mouth pressed into a tight line, Raw still trying his best to disappear, Glitch set to pacing in front of the door, standing guard in case any one of them tried to bolt, the dog-man's hands fumbling for a touchstone that wasn't there.
"You aren't too good at keeping secrets," Cain finally spoke up, his steady words causing the tutor's eyes to hit the floor. "I think it's about time you enlightened all of us. It's why you came, ain't it?"
"You're right," Tutor said, and then he chuckled, warmer than Cain had expected. The old man turned to DG, to whom the small laugh was for. "Where to begin."
She waited, oh how patiently she waited. If she were breathing, Cain couldn't discern by just looking. Still as stone, every one of them waited as she did, as the mutt put his words together, carefully stringing them so that he might get it right.
"First, DG, I don't want you to think that the resistance is any less of a threat to you or your family," he said sternly. "Never dismiss it as unimportant, do you hear me?"
DG's eyes widened, but she gave no compliance. "The resistance can't be a threat if you separated me from my sister," she said, though there was no conviction behind the words to lend them strength. Just words.
"No more of a threat today or yesterday than any day in the past few months," he said. "The fight at the gate two nights past was an opportune moment; merely a scapegoat."
"A scapegoat for what?" Glitch piped up, genuinely curious.
"Lavender," Tutor said heavily. "Her attempt to protect DG."
DG shook her head. "Azkadellia and I can protect each other. From anything. That's how you taught us." She crossed her arms over her chest.
Tutor squared his eyes on her. "Azkadellia cannot protect you from yourself, DG."
She laughed then, disbelievingly. "From myself?"
"She's not powerful enough," Glitch said, hopeful lilt directed at Tutor. "Is that right?"
"Yes, it is," Tutor replied unhappily.
"What am I going to do that I need protecting from?" DG asked; Wyatt could hear the control she fought to maintain, the shiver of anger across her features that was so easily swallowed away behind her mask of detachment. "Do they really think for a second that I'm going to lead a rebellion to fight Az for the throne? I don't want it, I've told them before, just because -"
"You don't understand, DG," Tutor said softly, holding up a large hand to silence her. "It has nothing to do with the throne, the crown, the Emerald, or the O.Z. itself."
"Then what?" She looked to no one else but her tutor.
He had no ready response, stumbled over what he'd had prepared as - well, what exactly, Cain wasn't sure. The tension around him weighed so heavily, his shoulders sagged. He looked about for somewhere to sit, and as his eyes turned away, Tutor gave DG her answer.
"Your mother worries - no, fears, fears that you will use your Light in an effort to help her. That you might even go so far as to - you must know this first -"
"I might even go so far as to what? Do what she did?"
"DG, please -"
She wasn't listening. She'd put both her hands into her hair, hiding her face behind her arms. "Damn it, why do I still listen to this woman? Why are any of us still listening to this woman?"
As she muttered this aloud, seemingly speaking to not a one of them in particular, Cain had fallen into a low-backed armchair tucked into a shadowed corner; with his elbows on his knees, he bowed his head into his hands. How had he fallen into this so unwittingly? Was he so much of a fool that a woman as oblivious and possibly mad as Lavender was could so easily and completely twist his life around on him?
He felt for the kid, truly, he did; he watched as she stood in the centre of the room, hands patting down her hair now as she swore an oath under her breath that would have made his undercity contacts blush.
Tutor stood silently before DG, watching her grumble and cuss with his mouth settled in an impatient line. He seemed to be waiting out her reaction, as if he'd expected it for all he hadn't known in the first place how he was going to tell her. On Azkadellia's order, he'd come; two more who had lost faith in Lavender's greater plan. Cain himself was glad he'd never been expected to put faith into it to begin with; it was tripe he wouldn't have, couldn't have swallowed.
It was Raw who pulled them all back together, out of their private hells. "DG never," was all he said.
The girl nodded fiercely. "He's right, I wouldn't ever - I wouldn't even know how, how can you expect - you of all people! - expect that I would know how to do something like that? Why didn't you tell her that? You know I can't!"
Tutor cleared his throat uncomfortably, shuffling his feet as he spoke. "Your magic is in your blood, DG, as much a part of your make-up than anything; there may come a day when your body will do as it will and you'll be powerless to stop it. Asking Azkadellia to do so is foolish - and dangerous."
DG had begun to tremble. From his shadowy vantage, Cain could see it quite clearly. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, watching and gauging her every response in a vain attempt to understand her mind, and more importantly, predict what action she might decide to take.
The others seemed to be watching her similarly; all eyes were on her, three dark sets and his own blues, she was their centre and she was lost, to them and to herself. She took no notice of them, none at all; closed in on herself as she took it all in, forced it to make sense, puzzle pieces with no semblance of colour, picture, only pieces meant to make a whole.
"So this is the truth, then?" she asked, small voiced, eyes to the wayside. "I'm not in control, I'm dangerous?"
"No, no," Tutor said, "you've misunderstood me."
"Like hell I have!"
Cain smirked, hiding it with a turn of his head, though he was all but disappeared as far as the others were concerned. It suited him just fine.
"Your mother made no conscious decision to save your life, child," Tutor said gravely. "Purely instinctual, primal, the kind of magic I can never, ever hope to teach you. You cannot train for it, can't learn it."
DG shook her head hard. "My mother is dying, Toto, dying, and you say she sent me away because I might try to save her? But what about Az -"
Tutor interrupted her, not meeting her eyes. "The bond isn't there."
"And how are you so sure the bond as you call it still exists between my mother and me?" she asked bitterly.
"There's hardly a doubt."
She wrinkled her nose, retorted petulantly, "Hardly."
Baleful dark eyes focused solely on her. "Your sketchbook, DG. Spending every day in that sickroom. And I scarcely need mention that heartbroken look on your face, Gods sakes girl, don't look at me like that; I've only followed my instructions as you have."
She closed her eyes, sniffled lightly. "How would you have me be, Toto?" Her voice as she said this was steady, not the faintest shiver to betray what must have been a tempest brewing inside of her; it reminded Cain, sharply, bitterly reminded him too much of the girl he'd encountered his first night back in Central City, keeping herself at a distance, unfeeling and hidden behind layers of royal masque.
Quiet fell once again, no answer to give the girl reassurance or strength. Only the shift and sigh of men too cowardly to tell her the shattering truth; that they were all pawns and mattered little, pride kept their tongues in their heads.
Raw had finally taken a seat in an occasional chair set against the wall near the fireplace; his head bowed, leaning slightly toward the dark, empty grate. Glitch seemed to be caught in a rare moment of stillness, his eyes working back and forth furiously as if the solution to life's problems were carved into the floor. And Cain himself? Still lurking in a shadowed corner, too absorbed in his own selfish anger to notice or care.
"I came here," Tutor began, but paused, cleared his throat. He glanced suddenly to Glitch, to Cain, a thin sheen of sweat now on his dark brow. His words were meant only for the princess, but constantly his gaze wandered, addressing all in the room. "I was sent here by Azkadellia, without the knowledge of Lavender or Ahamo. Especially Ahamo. He would strongly disagree with what I am about to tell you, and with good reason. I suspect there are others here who might feel the same."
The weight of this hit Cain square in the chest like a sackful of bricks; he sat up a little straighter.
"There - there may be a chance," he said. "A slim one, very slim."
DG, her keen ear detecting the sudden, small change in his tone, was on him in an instant. "Chance? A chance to what?"
He cleared his throat again, forcing the words past the block in his throat likely firmly put there by his conscience. "A chance to stop what's happening to Lavender, before -" Another pause before his voice returned, quieter, meek. "A chance to save her life."
DG paled; it was Glitch who responded, quietly and carefully. "Why haven't you spoken of this before?"
Tutor gave a weak half-smile. "I couldn't speak on anything until I was certain, and even then, Azkadellia had baulked at the idea of disobeying your mother's wishes. Now that Lavender is 'dreaming her sleep', as they say, she made up her mind to send me to you."
DG's head gave the slightest expectant shake as she waited with seemingly bated breath for him to continue. Glitch had moved closer in interest, and even Raw had looked up from the hearth. It was only Cain who wished that he could muzzle a man as easily as a dog; they were now discussing things that were far and beyond his realm of experience. With every passing second, ticking away there on the wall, their safety crumbled, the complications much more dire than even the moment before.
And no one looked like they planned on shutting up any time soon.
"Azkadellia believes there may be a higher authority that could be approached," Tutor said slowly, unentirely certain of himself, "one that may be able to stop the progression of your mother's... illness. Power that none of your line have ever known."
Glitch's face lit up with recognition, a familiar expression of wonder crossing his features. "You're joking, right? We don't believe those old stories, do we?" he asked with a dismissive laugh. "There's been no evidence of the existence of the High Four in the past -"
"Whom do you suppose DG pulled from her sister?" was Tutor's prompt response. "A lesser?"
Glitch blushed, stammered a pathetic string of incoherency.
"All right, you've gone way over my head again," DG said, holding her hands out in front of her in surrender. Cain, though he kept his mouth firmly clamped shut, agreed wholeheartedly, but his reasoning was surely - and quite literally - a world apart.
"It's said that the ancients worshipped four beings of great power," Glitch said in low tones. "Mention of them all but disappears with the arrival of Dorothy Gale, but for their persistent presence in legend, stories about good witches and wicked."
"Stories," DG said, skeptical.
"Stories say that when Dorothy Gale fell into the O.Z., she was given the gift of Light with which to rule the O.Z. by the last fading power, the Sorceress, Glinda. There's no mention of her - or any of the four - again in any official record that survived, and since the purge of knowledge during the war -"
"And you think the witch that possessed my sister is one of those four?"
Tutor shook his head. "Azkadellia knows, DG. She knows it to be true. The memories - there is no denying it."
Again, silence fell over them; Cain felt it bear down upon him so heavily that he would have gotten up and walked out of the room were DG and Glitch not planted right in front of the door. His every thought darkened with the knowledge that was being put onto the shoulders of the girl, and his heart ached to see her carry it so bravely. He could read her easy as he pleased now, and it scared the hell out of him. Why? Because she looked like she was being decisive, and that had never fared well for him. At least, not in the short term.
Then, she spoke, her voice as even as he'd ever heard it, laced with the kind of determination that would have done him proud had her words not shaken him so terribly.
"What does Azkadellia want us to do?"
Author's Note: I had to cut it here, lest it become too long and convoluted. Hopefully, the next chapter isn't long in coming. Encouragement always helps.
Table Of Contents
One - Two - Three - Four - Five
Six - Seven - Eight - Nine - Ten
Eleven - Twelve - Thirteen - Fourteen - Fifteen
Sixteen - Seventeen - Eighteen - Nineteen - Twenty
Twenty One - Twenty Two - Twenty Three - Twenty Four - Twenty Five
Twenty Six - Twenty Seven - Twenty Eight - Twenty Nine - Thirty
Thirty One - Thirty Two - Thirty Three - Thirty Four - Thirty Five
Thirty Six - Thirty Seven - Thirty Eight - Thirty Nine - Forty