THE RUNAWAY(4/6)
The Magician - Book Two
An X-Files Fantasy by
Jennifer Lyon (jennyann@ix.netcom.com) and
Suzanne Bickerstaffe (Ecksphile@AOL.com)

Chapter Nine Part A

His breath came in short gasps. His feet pounded on the
pavement. Andalor ran like the Dark creatures themselves were chasing
him. Beside him, Shannon darted, quick and graceful, her long raven
hair streaming out like a banner in the wind.
"This way!" she shouted, her voice barely audible above the
screeching din of the city streets. Her feet beat a staccato pattern
on the concrete as she weaved and bobbed through the traffic. Ducking
around a corner, she barely paused to look behind them, brushing
impatiently at the strands of hair that whipped across her eyes. The
lack of visible pursuit did not clear her mind, her desire to place as
much distance as possible between herself and Gordon's goons forcing
her ever onward.
Turning on her heels, she quickly scanned the street, then raced
across, expecting Andalor to be right behind.
The foreign youth saw her move, and swung around to follow, but
was not quite quick enough to avoid the oncoming traffic. Brakes
squealed, the horn blared as a taxi-cab shuddered to an unsteady halt
mere inches from Andalor's feet. Caught in the glare of the sunlight
reflected off of glass and yellow paint, he stood frozen in
open-mouthed shock.
Shannon was at his side in an instant. Seizing his arm, she
scolded him angrily. "Don't stand there like an idiot, Andy - come
on!!!"
"Huh?" he stammered, stumbling, then finding his feet. He threw
another startled glance at the big yellow creature that had almost
demolished him, then gasped as an angry human face peeked out the side.
He understood in a flash of memory that this must be one of the
horseless wagons the Professor described. But it was so much bigger
and more odorous than he had envisioned - and so much faster. Even as
his feet raced automatically after Shannon, his mind was reeling. A
mixture of shock, amazement, and excitement flooded his senses,
followed by an incredible sense of exhilaration.
He had made it. He was here, in Mulder's world, and he was free.
He even had a friend of sorts who knew this world, and who might be
able to guide him to Mulder. He was certain that finding the Mage
would be easy enough, surely anyone he asked would know where to find
him. Things were finally turning out right...
"There they are!!!" A voice shouted out of a horseless wagon to
his right. Andalor and Shannon turned their heads, recognized one of
Gordon's men-in-black, and bolted into an ally. Tires screeched as the
car swerved to follow them.
By now, both teens were fighting for every breath. Lungs heaving
and sides aching, they pushed themselves onward, breaking out into
another crowded street. Instinctively seeking the protection of the
crowds, Shannon headed straight for the busy doors of a crowded mall.
Glancing back only to assure herself that Andalor was behind her, she
darted inside.
Cool air hit them in a rush as they left the sun-heated streets
for the air-conditioned hallway. Slowing by necessity, Shannon held
Andalor back, her eyes communicating the need for caution. He nodded
grimly, and matched her resolute, but unhurried pace.
Shannon's eyes flickered from corner to corner, trying to avoid
looking behind them too often. Andalor took advantage of the chance to
catch his breath, then found himself staring around him in shock. He
knew enough to recognize this place as a kind of indoor marketplace -
but it was incredible! So elegant. So many different kinds of things.
The lighting came from more of the mysterious squares in the ceilings
and music seemed to filter through the air itself.
He wandered after Shannon, the urgency falling second to
amazement, until she got annoyed. "Stop gawking," she told him
curtly. "We need to get out of sight."
He swallowed and nodded, abruptly aware again of their pursuers.
Shannon ducked into one of the large stalls, and he followed quickly.
- - - - -

Darting in and out of stores and dressing rooms, Shannon and
Andalor managed to elude their pursuers, despite a couple of very close
calls. Finally, the men seemed to withdraw, or at least, the two
runaways lost sight of them. Taking one more long look around her,
Shannon collapsed onto a bench in the center of the mall and rubbed at
the back of her neck.
Andalor sprawled beside her, stretching his long legs out, then
curling them underneath him. Grateful for the chance to take the pack
off his exhausted shoulders, he placed it between them. She caught the
motion out of the corner of her eye, and turned, her face half-shadowed
by a dark wing of hair.
"I don't suppose you have anything useful in there, like money or
food?"
Andalor smiled triumphantly. Opening the top of the pack, he
rummaged inside, then withdrew some dried meat and some slightly stale
bread. "It's not a grand banquet," he sighed, images of the state
dining hall in Fairwood Castle suddenly flashing before his hungry
eyes. He sighed. "But it will do."
Shannon eyed the offering with obvious distaste, but her stomach
growled urgently, and she accepted her half with a grudging nod. "What
else have you got?" she asked between bites.
Andalor, swallowed hard, then looked down at his small stash.
"Mmmm, some clothes. I had knives, but..." The memory of shooting the
guard in the chest hit him hard, and his eyes watered. Fighting hard
not to show the emotions that flooded him, he covered by taking another
bite of the bread.
Shannon watched him carefully, though she didn't give away her
reaction. Something had obviously happened, and she still wanted an
explanation for how he had managed to appear almost invisible. No, she
shook her head at that - it must have been some trick of the lighting.
Gnawing at the tough meat, she gestured at him to continue.
"Well, I have a couple gifts for Mulder and Scully." His eyes
brightened to a vivid, almost-blue. "And I have some small crystals.
We ought to be able to trade those."
"Crystals?" Shannon replied doubtfully, "let me see those."
Andalor dug deep into the pack, then brought out a small cloth bag.
Untying the end, he dumped out three small, perfectly circular crystals
into her outstretched hand. Andalor wasn't certain why Gordon had
taken some things and not others, but he was glad to still have these.
Shannon turned them over in her hand, studying them as they
caught and reflected the light. They were pretty, and obviously
well-crafted, but she hadn't the faintest idea of their worth.
Shrugging, she returned them to Andalor, who put them back inside the
pouch. As he replaced those, a flash of gold from within his pack
caught her eye, and she restrained his arm.
"What's that?" she asked.
"Bracelets. I had them crafted for Mulder and Scully." Proudly,
he lifted them out and displayed them with a smile.
Shannon's eyes widened, then narrowed. She took one from Andalor
and held it down into her lap, running her fingers over it with barely
disguised pleasure. Now *these* were worth something. If she didn't
miss her guess, they were solid gold. And heavy, dotted with crystals
of a type she could recognize. The green ones were certainly emeralds.
The red one had to be rubies. Shaking her head, she gazed steadily at
Andalor.
"Why didn't you tell me you had something this valuable, Andy? We
ought to be able to make a decent profit from these." Andalor frowned
at the shortened version of his name. No one had ever done that before
and he didn't like it much. It was too disrespectful. "Don't call me
that!" he replied, grabbing back the shiny bracelet.
"That is for Scully," he added with a note of finality. But
Shannon was not about to give up.
"That is our only source of support. Unless you're ready to
sleep on the street and beg for our food, I'd suggest you reconsider.
With the money we can get for that bracelet, we ought to be able to put
a roof over our
heads and buy some real food. I don't know about you,but I'm dirty,
starving, and I'd like to sleep in a real bed." Shannon hadn't totally
given up the idea of separating from this strange boy as soon as
possible, but right now those bracelets of his were her only available
means of support. Later - later, they'd see.
Andalor grimaced, holding the bracelets tight in his rather grimy
hand. He too was exhausted, hungry, dirty, and he truly did not know
this world. But he had designed those bracelets himself, and watched
over their crafting carefully, dreaming of seeing the pleasure on Mage
Mulder and Warrior/Healer Scully's faces when he presented them with
the gifts.
However, he could feel Shannon's eyes boring into his skull, and
felt the tide of necessity flooding against him. And he did still have
the rings, which he would never part with, except into the hands of the
ones they had been designed for. So, perhaps, the bracelets could go.
With a tight knot forming in his throat, he closed his eyes and nodded.
Seeing the acceptance in his face, Shannon finally smiled.
- - - - -

Gordon was on a rampage. Unfortunately for his subordinates, he
didn't yell or scream or throw things. He turned calm, icy, deadly.
One foot into a room, and the temperature dropped. Men who were afraid
of nothing else, guns strapped under their heavily-muscled arms,
shivered when those bitter blue eyes turned in their direction. The
only person in the complex who was not afraid was Karen Mather.
Leaning back in her chair, she gave Gordon a lazy, insolent smile
as his gaze hovered over her face, then moved on with only the
slightest flicker of recognition. Instead his focus was on the
quivering head of security.
"Can you explain to me how those kids got into the basement, much
less crawled out through an 'unprotected' window onto the street?"
The larger man stumbled over his answer. "Yes, I
mean...Sir...the basement door is locked on the outside of the complex,
not the inside. No one can get into the complex from the basement.
It's just that..."
"Anyone can get from the complex into the basement..." Gordon's
breath whistled into his lungs.
"Yesss, sir. The door is securely locked, made of reinforced
steel plate. And rigged with alarms. No one could break through it,
so we didn't bother reinforcing the basement windows. It didn't
seem..."
"It seems necessary NOW Stendall, doesn't it?" Now Gordon's
voice took on the sound of an adult patiently lecturing a child.
"Uh...Yes, SIR! We'll take care of it right away, SIR!" Stendall
backed away and scrambled from the room, grateful to still have his
head, much less his job.
"Rather like guarding the chicken coop after the fox has already
had dinner," Gordon grumbled under his breath as the door closed.
Behind him, Karen chuckled. He turned and glared at her, she leaned
back in her chair and smiled.
"Looks like the 'fox' is one up on you, Gordon," she said with
amusement.
"Fox..." Gordon nearly growled as he got the joke. Stalking
closer, he stood over her.
"Don't think this gets you off the hook, 'Doctor.' We'll find
those kids, and you'd better hope we find them alive." Snapping back
onto his heels, he strode from the room, letting the door slam shut
behind him.
Once he was gone, Karen finally gave vent to her emotions. Fear,
worry, relief, hope - they all swirled through her as she threw herself
to her feet and circled the room. Unnoticed tears welled in the
corners of her eyes, then began a slow trickle down her cheeks. One
small droplet slid into the corner of her mouth and she tasted the
salty liquid absently, flicking her tongue against that part of her
lip, while her mind focused outward. Towards her runaway child.
- - - - -

The yellow page torn from the public phone book crumpled noisily
in Shannon's hand as her fist tightened. Holding her hair back from
her face with the other hand, she peered up and down the street,
searching for a sign or number that would tell her their location. She
knew the pawn shop had to be on one of these blocks, but which one?
Andalor shifted the position of the sack on his shoulders,
staring around him with definite unease. The sky was beginning to
darken and as far as he could tell, they were lost. He still didn't
understand why Shannon had insisted that they leave the huge brightly
lit marketplace to go wandering in these dark and dingy streets.
Surely they could have found someone to trade with in those bright,
obviously reputable shops. But Shannon had been insistent that they go
elsewhere, and he had accepted her superior knowledge of her own world.
Now, however, he was beginning to have serious second thoughts.
"I don't like this, Shannon," he said warily as they walked a
little further down the street. "I think we should have stayed in the
big marketplace. Surely someone there..."
Shannon shook her head in irritation. Patiently she explained
again. "No one there would have believed the bracelets belonged to
you. We need to find someone who won't ask too many questions."
"But why wouldn't they believe the bracelets are mine. I
designed them myself - they are unique. And why..."
"Shut up!" she hissed, pulling to a stop. Andalor nearly bumped
into her before he came to a halt at her back. "What..."
"Hey, hey, hey...what've we got heah?" came a heavily accented
voice from within the shadows. There was a tittering laugh in
response, as three boys stepped out into the street in front of
Shannon. All three were dressed in ragged blue jeans, tee-shirts, and
heavy fake-leather jackets. Pins and patches covered their chests,
one's hair was spiked up into a green and yellow array along the crown
of his head. Another had long hair tied back in a bandanna, the third
was black-skinned with swirls of bared scalp showing between patches of
dreadlocks. Two were grinning, the third was deadly serious.
"Waaach you up to pwetty guhl?" he said, bearing down on
Shannon. She instantly balanced up onto her toes, poised to run or
fight. "None of your business," she replied with unnatural calm.
"OOOH, a tough one..." he said, eliciting more laughter from his
buddies.
Andalor stepped up beside her. "Excuse us, could you tell us
where to find..."
"HEY look't this - an even pwettier boy." The lead boy
interrupted. He reached over to grab at Andalor's hair, but before he
could touch a golden strand, Andalor was moving. Before anyone else
could react, he had tipped the larger teen over onto the pavement.
Twisting the other youth's arm behind his back, Andalor knelt into the
area just behind the kidneys - where he knew it would hurt.
"You do not have permission to touch me," he said regally. Then
releasing the arm, he stood up and away.
"GGGet them," shouted the embarrassed, furious boy, gasping as
he turned over onto his back and drew out his knife.
His companions leapt in gleefully, delighted both with the fight
and the sight of the larger boy going down so easily. The ensuing
struggle was not marked by any sense of fair-play. The three gang
members fought viciously, teasing their intended victims with the
whirling blades of their knives. But Shannon and Andalor were both
natural fighters, and what the tall, slender girl lacked in training,
she made up for in ferocity.
One of the boys went for her with a knife, and ended up with her
teeth in his wrist. He screamed, trying to shake her off, but she dug
in and held on. The knife clattered out of his hand, falling to the
ground inches from where Andalor was locked in hand-to-hand combat with
the spiked teen. Spike howled insanely, then leapt, only to find
himself fall through empty air. Spinning off to the side, Andalor
easily avoided the charge, then turned and delivered a sharp kick to
Spike's rear end. Balance lost, the larger teen toppled over
face-first.
Andalor had not missed the glint of the knife and he gratefully
scooped it up. The handkerchiefed boy had finally dislodged Shannon by
unmercifully pummeling her in the stomach. Laying on her back on the
ground she spat and hissed, already trying to scramble to her feet.
But he was on her before she could regain her balance, and they rolled
along the sidewalk, kicking and clawing at each other.
With carefully grown nails, she struck at his eyes, missing by
barely an inch, instead drawing blood along his cheek. He hit her hard
across the jaw, then tried to pin down her arms. No sooner than he had
trapped her beneath his weight, a sudden kick caught him in the
kidneys. Screaming, he fell over to the side.
Shannon wrenched herself free, looking up to see Andalor
extending her a hand, the knife gripped tight in his other. Not
bothering with useless pride, she grabbed hold of him, levering herself
to her feet. No sooner had she stood up than she saw a shadow loom
over Andalor's head.
"Andy!!!!" she yelled. Andalor spun, the knife blade glinting
in his hand as he struck out in pure instinct. But that instinct had
been well-trained, and his thrust was perfectly timed, clean - but
direct. Andalor leapt back, leaving the knife buried to the hilt in
the black teen's chest, barely an inch to the right of his sternum.
Blood gushed up and out of the contorted mouth, then the boy fell to
the ground, twitched, and lay still.
Andalor stood in shock, but Shannon was well aware of the two
others getting to their feet close by. "Come on!!!!" she shouted,
seizing hold of Andalor's arm. He paused. She turned to yell at him
again, but he was already leaping back to scoop up his pack.
Recognizing the necessity, she stopped short, though her heart was
pounding in her chest and her mind kept screaming... "Go, Go, Go!!!!!"
Though it was only a couple seconds later, it seemed an eternity
before they were running again, desperately putting as much distance as
they could between themselves and yet another enemy.
- - - - -

"Thank you," Gordon put down the phone and smiled, easily, for
the first time that day. Then picking up the receiver again, he
punched numbers as fast as his fingers could fly. Waiting for an
answer, he tapped restlessly on the desktop.
"Yes, get me Kraven.... Kraven, this is Gordon. Look, I need
your help. Got a couple of runaways I need found. Yeah - a boy and a
girl.... Blond hair, shoulder length, purple eyes...yeah...kind of
odd...slender, 5''7'', about 15 years old. Wearing slightly
old-fashioned type clothes, almost medieval in style....Black hair long
and straight, light brown eyes, 5'6'', very thin, almost gangly.
Sixteen. Dressed in black pants and a brightly colored shirt. Uhn
huh... sure I'll hold."
Gordon hated being on hold. Leaning back in his chair, his
fingertips continued to beat a rapid, staccato pattern on the wood of
the desk...Tap..taptap..tap...tap..taptaptap...
At last. "Yeah I'm here, what have you got? Yes... You're sure?
OK, look, I'm going to fax over a couple of photos to you. See if you
can get a positive I.D. ... This is an important one, especially the
boy. I want him Kraven - preferably alive, dead if necessary. ...
The girl? More use to me alive, but GET her!"
Hanging up, he leapt up out of his chair. This could be the
break he needed - at last.
- - - - -

In the commotion following the escape, it was not too hard to
pass unnoticed. Karen craftily tried to place herself where she felt
she could gain the most information. So when Gordon stormed into the
administrative offices to fax out photos of Shannon and the boy, she
was seated in a corner, quietly drinking her coffee. Bending her head
down, she tried to blend into the background. Having the large leafy
plant partially between her and the center of the room didn't hurt.
But what her eyes couldn't see, her ears could hear.
Shannon - involved in a gang fight!!! Dear God, let her be all
right!!! Her mother's heart froze in place, as she strained to catch
every word. Still missing - but believed to be alive and unharmed.
Her heart began again to beat.
Men to blanket the area... Karen wasn't sure if she wanted to
hear that the two teens had been found or that they had escaped.
Shannon's disappearance meant that Karen was free of Gordon, but so
much could happen to a child alone on the streets. Without food and
shelter, they would be easy prey, and with the Professor gone and
Shannon's father dead, there was no one for her to turn to for help.
Or was there? The boy said he knew Agent Mulder. If he and
Shannon went to the federal agent for help - they'd be safe. And she'd
be free. And maybe she'd be able to expose Gordon...
No don't reach for too much, Karen, she told herself. Focus on
what you can do NOW that will help Shannon the most. Mulder. He was
the one person Gordon was most frightened by, despite his attempts to
hide it. The mental image of a tall, dark man hovered in front of her
eyes, colored by an aura of intelligence and emotional intensity.
Could he protect the kids?
She didn't have any other choice. If Gordon hadn't been holding
Shannon's life and health over her head, Karen might have chanced
contacting Mulder sooner. Now - now she *had* to take the chance.
Somehow she would have to find a way to reach him. But how?

--------------------------
end Chpt9 PArt A
--------------------------

Chapter Eight Part B

"There!" Shannon swung her arm out towards the faded sign
hanging crookedly over the rust-covered door. In the twilight, the
stained storefront appeared faded, the glitter of the display lost in
the darkening shadows. The glass, covered in dust and sweat-rimmed
fingerprints was striped by the long metal strips of the security gate.
Triple-locks unfastened, the door now swung half-open, slightly tilted
on its hinges. Shannon eyed the doorway with satisfaction, Andalor
with dismay.
"Are you sure?" he began, but she interrupted with a hissing
whisper. "Yes. Now let me do the talking." Pushing the door fully
open, she strode purposefully into the dim interior.
Andalor straightened his shoulders and followed, his face wary
and grim. The store was filled to the brim with a conglomeration of
junk, clothes, jewelry, shoes, chairs and tables, linens and
candlesticks, jumbled among an amazing assortment of object the foreign
Prince did not recognize. A part of him felt an instant desire to
search out whatever treasure might lie buried, another part was
disgusted by the layer of filth that seemed to permeate the air.
"What can I do for you?" an oily voice sounded from a corner.
Shannon tossed her hair back and moved closer to the voice. Andalor
edged along behind her, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on
end.
A few steps closer, and they could see the man awaiting them.
Huge broad shoulders tapered to thin wrists and meaty hands, the bare
skin dotted with crawling tattoos. His scalp was bare and shiny above
thick gray eyebrows and sunken eyes. The protruding, almost
swollen-lipped mouth was open in a grimace of a smile, revealing
yellowing, metal-filled teeth. A long black overcoat floated around
his frame, a musty red and green flannel peeking out from underneath.
"Sir," Shannon steeled herself, determination winning through.
"We have a pair of bracelets we'd like you to take a look at. I
believe we can come to a mutually satisfactory agreement."
Those caverned eyes trailed over them both, eliciting involuntary
shivers from both teens, then he stepped closer and smiled hungrily.
"So, let's see what you got, kid."
Shannon turned and nodded imperiously to Andalor. He bristled at
her assumption of command, but felt there was little other choice than
to go along - for the moment. Gingerly setting his pack on the edge of
a nearby table, he drew out the bracelets and held them up to the
light.
The shopkeeper's eyes glittered, though his cold expression hid
his greedy response. Shannon knew he was hooked, though, and she
pursued him. "These belonged to my Grandmother," she lied
effortlessly. "My only inheritance. My....guardian wanted to steal
them from me, but I won't let him do that." Her voice immediately took
on a defiant whine. "No one has a right to steal them from me. I'd
rather sell them than let that sleaze nab them!"
Andalor stared at her in amazement, she lied far too easily.
Shannon caught the look on his face, and silently elbowed him in the
stomach.
"Owwww..ackackack," he cried out, quickly burying the response
in a cough. He may not have been happy with the situation, but Andalor
knew how to bargain. By this time, he had already negotiated his share
of treaties and land agreements, winning the respect of his friends and
adversaries. Even Reinald had admitted that the Prince was a good
negotiator.
"Let me take a closer look," the man said, reaching out a big
hand to take the bracelets. Andalor swung them away. "You've already
gotten a good look," he said, ignoring Shannon's obvious annoyance at
his interruption.
"No," Andalor shook his head, invisibly gaining stature as he
went into court-mode. "You know full well the value of
these...heirlooms. My...sister," he tossed Shannon a grin as though
to say that two can play this game. "My sister is giving you a rare
opportunity. We need the funds to escape our guardian, you can trade
these for high value. So we are willing to make you a good deal. You
can have these for 2/3 of their value." Andalor actually had no idea
what the value would be in this world, but the man was not hard to
read, and Shannon would know if they were being cheated.
"How do I know they are not stolen?" the man argued back,
triumphantly. He leaned in close to them, the raw stench of his breath
making them both gag. "Where'd you lift 'em, kids?"
"We didn't steal them," Shannon replied with an utter confidence
that was convincing in its reality. Andalor simply met the shop
owner's gaze with calm composure.
The man's eyes darted from one to the other, accepting the truth
of that statement, even though he was not about to give up his
bargaining advantage. The jewelry may not be stolen, but these two
were up to their ears in trouble somehow. He could smell it.
"Maybe I should just call the police!" he challenged.
Andalor shrugged with unconcern. "Maybe you should. But do you
want to lose this opportunity? These bracelets are of the finest
quality. Carved of the purest ore, adorned with the finest gems.
Crafted by the best jeweler in the Realm."
Despite some misunderstandings they managed well enough; Andalor
having no clue what the 'police' were, but assuming they were some kind
of authority, the pawnbroker uncertain what a 'realm' was, but not
really caring.
"I'll give you two hundred each," he offered, as though giving
them a deal. Andalor paused, looking to Shannon, and she broke in
instantly.
"Are you kidding? Let's get out of here Andy. That's a joke.
These are worth ten times that, at least!" She turned to leave.
Andalor shrugged and began to replace the bracelets in his bag.
But the man broke in, "OK, five hundred each, but that's as high as I
can go. Especially if they're hot."
"They're quite cool," Andalor replied. "We won't take anything
less than six hundred each," he insisted.
"Five fifty."
"Five eighty," answered Shannon.
"Five seventy five." This time the pawnbroker's raspy voice was
settled. Shannon and Andalor shared a glance of understanding - that
*was* the best he would offer.
"OK," Shannon replied grudgingly. "Where's the money?"
"Just a minute," he grumbled, turning away to go into the back
of the store. There were sounds of objects being shuffled, then the
big, bald man came out again, his face contorted into a frown.
"Let me see those bracelets," he said, holding a sheaf of green
paper in his hand. Andalor frowned, but Shannon looked pleased.
"Go ahead," she agreed. Andalor figured she knew the local
currency better than he did, and the Professor had talked of paper
money. The Prince still thought it was the stupidest idea he'd ever
heard of, but this was a strange place. Accepting her lead, he handed
over the bracelets to the man's eager grasp.
Shannon waited anxiously while he examined the jewelry with
painstaking care, her eyes unable to leave the pile of money sitting on
the shelf just out of her reach.
"So, do we have a deal?" she finally urged, shifting impatiently
on her feet.
"Yeah, ok," the man said, at last giving her the money. Andalor
leaned over her shoulder while she counted it, taking a deep sigh of
relief at the look of pleasure that crossed her face when she was done.
Tucking a handful of the bills into each of her jeans pockets,
she looked at the rest and sighed. "Better put this somewhere safe,"
she told Andalor, reluctantly handing him the rest. He took it,
staring at the little pieces of paper with some curiosity, then
hurriedly dumping them into his sack. It went back up over his
shoulder, and they both turned to leave.
The door slammed shut behind them, leaving the ugly man standing
in the dirty light, gazing at his new found treasure with unconcealed
delight.
- - - - -

Night was falling quickly now, causing both Shannon and Andalor
to pick up their pace as they walked down the empty streets. Every
noise seemed a portent of untold dangers, each shadow held an unknown
threat.
"Any idea where we are?" Andalor asked uneasily, his eyes
darting from one crumbling, unkempt building to another.
Shannon shook her head. "No, but we'd better keep moving. We
need to find a motel or something."
"Motel?"
She shook her head. "Andy, you are without a doubt the strangest
duck I have ever met."
Andalor sighed with frustration, refusing to ask her what a
'duck' was. "You're pretty odd yourself," he said instead.
Shannon laughed, an incongruously light sound in the growing
dark. Shaking her head, she pushed forward as quickly as she dared go
without running. "Come on, there's got to be at least a restaurant
around here somewher
e. I'm starving!!!!"
At the mention of food, his stomach growled while saliva pooled
in his mouth. "Me, too," he replied honestly. "I could eat an entire
herdbeast."
"You mean an entire horse..." Shannon flashed him a grin, then
took the next corner with a sudden burst of energy.
"Why would anyone want to eat a horse?" Andalor rounded the
corner after her, coming to a sudden halt behind her still figure.
"What's wrong!" he asked urgently, but she turned to him with a
wide, feral grin on her face.
"MacDonald's!!!!!!"

- - - - -

Andalor warily followed Shannon into the brightly lit building,
though once inside the wonderful smells assaulted his senses,
immediately lightening his mood. Stomach growling, he gazed around him
with wonder. Again, there was the unusual lighting, a warm flood of
soft yellow streaming from squares in the ceiling. The room was filled
with tables and chairs, painted in bright colors, red and yellow and
blue and green. There was a low counter along one wall, behind which
he could see men and women dressed in equally colorful clothes.
Blinking, he thought that only an elf would be jealous of such attire,
the red and yellow stripes were dizzying.
Shannon tugged at his arm, and he followed her up to the counter,
eyes soon focusing on the odd paintings displayed above their heads.
He could recognize the subject as food, though it was unlike anything
he had eaten before. But the aroma was convincing and his hunger was
demanding.
Shannon spoke peremptorily to the bored woman behind the counter.
"Give me a double cheeseburger with fries, and a medium diet Coke."
Then she turned to Andalor, obviously waiting for him to speak.
Andalor frowned, having not the slightest idea of what her words meant.
Shrugging, he decided to hope that his companion had good taste in
food. "Give me the same as her," he ordered with faked confidence.
Stifling a yawn, the woman punched at the odd-shaped, metallic
object in front of her, then turned around and began tossing things
onto a small brown tray. Two small wrapped objects were soon followed
by two paper sacks full of thin brownish strips. Next, she put two
cups under another strange machine, after which a flood of dark fluid
came gushing out of the spouts. When the cups were full, she put a
clear top on them and added them to the tray, which she then carried
over and slid across the counter towards Shannon.
"Seven twenty five," she said wearily to Shannon who had already
dug some of the crumpled currency out her pocket. Peeling off one
piece, she handed it over to the woman who looked at it and frowned.
"Got anything smaller?"
Shannon shook her head. "No, sorry." With a sigh of irritation,
the woman punched at the machine, which clanged, shooting out a drawer.
Andalor jerked in response, then stilled when Shannon showed no
response. The woman put in Shannon's money, then drew out several
similar pieces of green paper and some silvery-colored coins and handed
them over. Andalor watched the transaction carefully, wishing he knew
better how this world's coinage was counted.
Shannon picked up the tray and carried it over to another small
table behind them. She grabbed some paper napkins, a couple of long
thin, white sticks, then squirted some thick, red fluid into a small
paper cup. It reminded Andalor too much of blood, and he grimaced at
the sight, even as he followed her to a small table with cushioned
couches on two of its sides.
Shannon placed the tray in the middle of the table, and slid onto
one of the couches. Andalor got into the other, groaning under his
breath at the relief of being able to release the weight of his pack
from his shoulders, and the weight of his body from his tired feet.
Stretching his legs out, he wriggled his toes and briefly closed his
eyes. By the gods, it felt good to sit down.
Shannon took one of the cups, then tore at one of the small thin
sticks. To Andalor's surprise, the white covering ripped off easily,
revealing a thin, striped hollow reed. She poked it into the covering
of the cup, then drew fluid through it, swallowing with obvious relish.
Carefully, Andalor mimicked her movements, trying to hide the
awkwardness of the unfamiliar task. But it was easy enough, and he
took down a huge swallow of the sweet, yet biting drink, before
realizing there was still another surprise involved. Bubbles burst
into his mouth and throat, causing him to cough violently, then sneeze.
Putting the cup down he stared at it in shock. "Whhhat is
this!?" he demanded. Shannon looked up at him, her eyes dilating in
equal amazement. "Diet Coke..." Then her eyes narrowed. Leaning
forward she demanded softly. "You've never had Coke before?"
"Coke?" Andalor shook his head. The bubbly sensation was
easing, and he had to admit it had tasted rather good. Lifting the cup
warily, he took a much smaller swallow. This time he was prepared for
the bite of the drink, and he grinned. "No, I've never had it before
but it's rather good."
Shannon shook her head again, then in an habitual gesture,
grabbed her long hair and tossed it back over her shoulders. She
opened her mouth to speak, then paused, thinking hard. She doubted
that the fantastic story this strange boy had told her earlier was
true, but there was no doubt that he was foreign. "Where are you
from?" she asked, curiosity gleaming in her amber eyes.
Andalor smiled, but spoke almost wistfully. "Far, far away," he
replied simply. Shannon ate a couple fries, considering. "Tell me
again how you ended up here?"
"I came through the vortex to visit Mulder, but somehow Gordon's
magic drew me off course. I think he was sending someone else through,
and we collided." Andalor shivered at the recollection of the feeling
of that dead flesh against his own. Shannon however, was deep in
thought, trying to make sense of his words.
"Vortex..." she murmured. She'd picked up enough from her
mother to have some idea of what kind of experiments were being done.
A stray corner of her mind suddenly shouted - what if Andy is telling
the truth? Her mother had let slip that the Professor had disappeared
into his own experiment, and she knew Gordon was desperately trying to
copy the results. What if they had developed some kind of portal...
She frowned, this was crazy! Shannon prided herself on keeping her feet
on the ground. Another might call it skepticism or even cynicism, but
she considered it old-fashioned common sense.
While Shannon was thinking furiously, Andalor was tearing into
the thin brown strips with eager hunger. He wasn't quite sure what
they were, but they tasted better than anything he'd ever eaten before,
except maybe for the castle cook's fried onions. They reminded him
somewhat of whiteroots, and they had obviously been cooked in some
unfamiliar, but tasty seasonings. But even when his fingers were busy
stuffing his mouth as quickly as they could, his mind kept circling.
Stuffing the last of his pile of the tasty things into his mouth,
he followed with a few gulps of the bubbly 'Coke.' Then he finally
spoke his mind. "I have to find Mulder."
"Why?" Shannon shot back.
Andalor frowned, leaning forward across the table. "Why? Because
he can help. And I have to warn him. Gordon is planning something
evil." Even saying that name again made Andalor's uneasiness deepen.
What if the black Mage could sense it? Andalor shut that possibility
aside, though he decided to be careful of ever using it again, just in
case. "I came here to find Mulder, and I have some things to give him.
Gifts, and something I found in...the evil one's place. I don't
understand what the parchments say, since my grasp of your language
isn't as good as I had originally thought. But Mulder will know. And
he will know what to do about it."
"Maybe..." Shannon was doubtful. She still thought that the
best thing to do was to get as far away as possible from Gordon and his
goons. She squelched a brief rush of concern for her mother, forcing
it way with the thought that her mother never really cared all that
much about her anyway. Sure she spoke a good game about how she was
only helping Gordon because he threatened Shannon, but the girl knew
how obsessed her mother was with the work itself. Always, Shannon had
come a distant second to her mother's career, and Shannon had heard too
many excuses to believe anything different this time. No, better to
leave Karen to her own mess, and get away clean while she could.
"I think we need to get away from this town as soon as possible,"
she insisted. "Those men will be searching for us, and maybe the
police as well. Once we're somewhere safe, then you can contact
Mulder." Peeling away the wrapping from her cheeseburger, she took a
huge bite.
"No, we'll only be safe if we find Mulder," Andalor argued,
watching as she put more food in her mouth than he would have believed
possible. It looked and smelled good, though, and he reached for his
own wrapped sandwich with eager hands.
Shannon shook her head, wiping at her dripping mouth with a paper
napkin. "How do you know you can trust this Mulder? Or that Gordon
won't be expecting you to try to find him? We could walk straight into
a trap."
Andalor had to swallow before he could burst out in outrage. "I
trust Mulder more than anyone. In this world or any other. He saved
the Realm, risked his life and that of his bondmate for us. How can
you even suggest..."
"Hey...HEY!" Shannon hissed, her eyes darting around. Leaning
towards him, she warned him urgently. "Chill out, Andy. Keep it down.
I'm sorry I insulted your friend. If you say he's cool, then I
believe you. But take it easy, the last thing we need to do is attract
attention."
Taking a deep breath, Andalor forced himself to bury his anger.
She was right. And she had apologized. He was surprised she knew so
little about the Great Mage, but he was beginning to realize just how
little he knew of this strange world. The Professor's stories had
seemed so full of information, yet the Prince was coming to see that
the crafty old man had actually told him very little.
Andalor nodded. "Yes, you are right. I am sorry I yelled. But
I know that I am right too. We need Mulder. He is the one person who
can defeat Gordon," his voice dropped to a thin whisper on that name,
then rose again with his certainty. "And Mulder is the only one who
can truly keep us safe. Besides, how can we not warn him that his
enemies may be preparing to strike. He is my friend, I owe him my
life. I have to find him!"
Shannon frowned deeply, her eyes darkening to match the ebony of
her hair. Pursing her lips, she leaned back and studied her
companion's urgent face. More than anything she wanted to flee, to the
very ends of the earth itself, if possible. Australia, she thought
wistfully. She'd love to see the Outback. Maybe start a farm, raise
kangaroos. Live somewhere far away from people and cities... Sighing,
she thrust that dream away. Like it or not, Andy had a point. Gordon
was up to no good, he was hardly going to let them slip through his
fingers, and there were other troubles as well.
For one the authorities were not about to let a pair of teenagers
just live on their own, at least not in any comfortable sense. They'd
have to keep moving, at least until they turned eighteen, and in the
meantime it would be nearly impossible to support themselves. Further,
she was not fool enough to doubt that there were other predators out
there, as bad or worse than Gordon, just waiting to prey on runaway
teens. She didn't stop to question why she thought in terms of "we"
and "they" - it just seemed right.
The bottom line, though, was that they needed an adult's help.
At least for a while. And if it got too difficult, they could always
bug out again. Nibbling at her lower lip, Shannon finally met
Andalor's eyes, and nodded. He smiled at her acceptance, but the grin
faded with her next words.
"Any idea where to find this Mulder of yours?" Shannon instantly
saw the answer in his face and groaned aloud. She stared at him in
frustration, while he openly winced.
"I thought anyone would know where to find Mulder. Surely such a
powerful Mage is well-known enough....
As his voice trailed off in growing confusion, Shannon closed her
eyes in exasperation, moaning aloud. Somehow she had the feeling that
things were just going to get worse.

End Chapter Nine

Chapter 10 Part A

The sun was setting in a blaze of glory. Any other motorists
driving down Mount Auburn Street that evening might have been awed, but
the travellers from Washington were too tired to take much notice. The
two cars made a left turn and continued halfway down the quiet,
tree-lined road. At a word from one of the occupants, they turned left
again and drove up an asphalt driveway to a huge white Dutch colonial.
The gracious home sat up on a knoll, a rock garden covering the slope
down to the sidewalk. It appeared to be thriving in spite of the
unseasonable heat, and impatiens, phlox and coleus peaked out from
outcroppings of granite. Rather than deserted, the house looked as
though a congenial host could any minute step out into the driveway to
welcome his guests.
The Professor got out of the car with Mulder, and walked up the
flagstone path to the portico. He tried the handle of the door without
success.
"Well, I didn't manage to bring my keys back from the Realm,"
Mulder said with a rueful smile. "I don't suppose you did any better?"
"Didn't even take them with me, dear boy - not much point.
Remember, my trip to the Realm was much less precipitous than yours. I
left my keys with Karen, so she could arrange caretakers for the
property - didn't want the neighbors complaining about the place
falling to wrack and ruin. That's why I was hoping that she'd be here,
or that I would have been able to contact her." The Professor looked
around the yard. "I have to say that she's kept the place up nicely.
Although I can't promise a full refrigerator and fresh sheets." The
Professor walked across the grass to the slope and gingerly made his
way down to the second tier of rock. Nudging aside a softball-sized
stone, he felt around in the depression it had made, finally exclaiming
with delight. He pulled up a small object, bright bronze where the
dirt had fallen off. Brushing the remaining soil from it, he made his
way back up the hill with Mulder's help and inserted the key in the
lock. The door swung open easily.
From her vantage point in the second car, Scully saw the
Professor start to enter his home, only to be gently restrained by
Mulder's hand on his shoulder. A few words were exchanged between the
two men and then Mulder entered alone, tense, his hand reaching for his
weapon as he crept in. Scully swung the car door open and located her
own gun in her purse, ready to help if necessary. Several anxious
minutes later, he reappeared and beckoned them all inside.
Aldara, the only one other than the Professor to brave Mulder's
driving, got out of his car and with Reinald, Jourdain and Scully
formed a protective shield for Tarnor, in the center of their group.
They entered the house quickly, locking the door behind them. Mulder
was drawing the shades before turning on the lights.
The Professor looked at his guests, exhausted from their
traffic-plagued trip from Washington. "Just make yourselves at home.
There's four bedrooms upstairs. Why don't you all go up and figure out
the sleeping arrangements? I have something to do down here." The
Professor watched the group start to go up the graceful staircase, then
turned and headed toward the back of the house. He went into a large
room, beautifully appointed with a magnificent oriental rug, Queen Anne
furniture, and a huge fireplace adorned with an etched glass and brass
screen. Quietly, he crossed the room to his desk, sat and reached for
his Rolodex. Picking up the phone, he began dialing.
"You're really worried about her, aren't you?" asked a soft voice
from the doorway. Mulder entered the room and closed the door behind
him.
Neumann glanced up, then continued entering the number. "Yes,
Mulder, I am. I know Karen, she's like a daughter to me. I know her
habits, her patterns of behavior. I can't think of a time that I
couldn't reach her either at work or at home."
"People have to go out occasionally, Gunther," Mulder said
reasonably. "Or maybe she took a vacation. Don't forget, you've been
gone a few months, and it's not likely that she would leave a message
just in case you decided to reappear."
"I know," he said. "But I have the strangest feeling. I've just
beeped her. If I don't get any response from that in the next few
minutes, I want to go over to her house - it's only a couple of miles
from here. I promise you I won't get any rest until I find out where
she is." He smiled grimly. "Something's wrong, Mulder, and I can only
hope to God that my work has nothing to do with it."
The younger man looked at the older with a mixture of sympathy
and affection. "All right, Gunther, whatever you say. We'll go check
it out - now, if you like. Let me go tell Scully what's going on and
I'll be ready."
The Professor swallowed hard and nodded.
Mulder's long legs took the stairs two at a time. "Scully?"
"In here," called a disembodied voice.
Mulder looked into the rooms as he passed down the hall. To his
right, Jourdain and Aldara were struggling with sheets in a room with
deep blue walls and stark white wainscoting. In a room with flowery
wallpaper a bit further down the hall on his left, Tarnor was stretched
out on one of the two twin beds while Reinald washed his face in the
adjoining bathroom.
"Scully? Scully, where are y- Oh, there you are. Nice choice,
love." Mulder looked appreciatively around the room. The hardwood
floors were dotted with handmade braided rugs and the colonial canopy
bed was enough like their bed in the Realm to bring on a wave of
nostalgia. His bondmate had just finished smoothing the covers in
place, and she turned to him with a smile.
//Brings back a lot of happy memories, doesn't it?\\ She reached
up to clasp her arms around his neck. He smiled and nuzzled her hair
for a few moments, then she felt his mind gently disengaging. She
looked up at him questioningly.
"Gunther's awfully worried about Karen Mather. He really feels
there's something wrong. I'm just going to take him over to her house
and see what we can find out. We won't be gone long."
Scully nodded. "Okay. I'll get the rest of the living
arrangements squared away and try to organize some food."
Mulder grinned. //Do you think you can keep this crew out of
trouble?\\
Scully poked her head out into the hallway, then turned back to
him. //Yeah - they're beat. Now if they were well rested, I wouldn't
have a prayer.\\ Her essence changed as she became more serious. //Be
careful out there, love. Gunther isn't the only one with some "bad
vibes" lately.\\
Mulder nodded and kissed her hard on the lips. "Don't worry."
Then he was out the door and down the stairs.
Scully watched him and the Professor get into her car and back
down the driveway. She finished tidying the room and thought about the
next order of business. She found Jourdain in the Blue Room. "Where's
Aldara?"
Almost shyly, he indicated the bathroom. Scully nodded. "Okay,
then Jourdain, you get to make the executive decision - what do you
want for dinner?"
Hearing food mentioned, Tarnor bolted from his bed and knocked on
the door jamb before entering. "Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear -
did someone say dinner?"
Scully laughed. "Tarnor, I'm beginning to think you may have
troll blood." As she was explaining the possibilities she was joined
by Aldara and then Reinald. Stunned by the variety of selections, the
group found consensus impossible.
"Aldara, you come with me - this is a job bigger than one person
can handle. If I really have to go out for fried chicken, Big Macs,
tacos and pizza, I'm going to have help!"
Scully and Aldara were out the front door a few minutes later.
Chatting as they were, they failed to notice the old sedan which
suddenly braked in front of the Professor's house, then sped up again
to vanish down the road.

- - - - -

"That's it, over there - third house on the right." Responding
to the Professor's directions, Mulder slowly pulled over to the curb
and shut off the lights and motor. From the outside, the house looked
perfectly normal, the small yard orderly, the grass well-trimmed.
"I would prefer you to stay here, Gunther. Let me check it out
first, just in case, " requested Mulder.
"Nonsense! I will not ask you to risk anything I am not also
willing to risk. It wouldn't be honorable," replied Neumann, opening
the car door.
"Gunther, honor has nothing to d- Oh all right, you're out
anyway. Let's try to be kind of quiet about this though, okay? It's
getting dark, but that won't cover everything. And I go into the house
first, understand?"
"Perfectly."
Mulder tried the door handle to find it locked, as he expected.
Putting a finger to his lips and catching the Professor's eye, he slid
between the house and a tall evergreen hedge and worked his way toward
the side of the house, trying each window he came to. Neumann stood on
the front steps, trying to look inconspicuous. A few minutes later,
the front door opened a few inches and a hand appeared from nowhere to
grasp his wrist and pull him inside.
"I owe Karen a new basement window, but we're in," said Mulder,
keeping his voice low. "You do realize that this is breaking and
entering, don't you, and if someone calls the cops we're screwed?" He
intentionally kept his flashlight aimed low.
The Professor nodded, distracted, staring around him. It didn't
take a lot of light for him to see that the place was deserted and had
been for some time. Mulder laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder and
conducted a brief but comprehensive search of the first floor. Then he
returned to the living room to join the Professor on the large couch.
"No one's been here for several weeks, as far as I can tell," he
said to the old gentleman in a soft voice. "The houseplants are all
long since dead and the kitchen calendar is still on August. There's
dust everywhere, and what food was left in the refrigerator could pass
for a middle school science project by now." He paused to think,
rubbing his upper lip with a fingernail, then began to speak again as
if to himself. "There's no direct evidence of violence - no signs of a
struggle - but still.... This house was not 'closed' as it would have
been if someone knew they were going away for a while - the plants
would have been set outside or given away, the refrigerator would have
been cleaned out, the furniture covered, possibly the electricity,
phone and water turned off. This house has been deserted, abandoned in
a sudden, unplanned event. Let me check the second
floor." He rose and noiselessly glided up the stairs.
Neumann sat stunned on the couch. In spite of his earlier
forebodings, his mind tried to reject the evidence it saw. To accept
that evidence meant the threat of terror and violence and tragedy,
something he thought he had left behind with his early life in Nazi
Germany. He was startled from his troubled thoughts by Mulder's
return.
"Nothing up there that would add anything to what we found down
here. I think we have to accept the idea that something has happened."
Mulder returned to his seat on the couch next to Neumann,
uncomfortable in his thoughts. "Umm...Gunther, ...do you know if Karen
was ill, by any chance?"
"You think she's dead, don't you?"
Mulder shrugged and looked unhappy. "It would explain what we've
found here, Gunther. I don't like to think about that possibility any
more than you do, but I think we have to face it."
"Well, what would have happened to her daughter?"
Mulder's brows rose. "I didn't realize that she had a child."
"Karen has been a single mother for some time now. She and
Shannon do not get along well, however. Haven't for years. The girl
was repeatedly in trouble. Nothing serious, mind you. Mainly truancy,
and running away, though Karen always found her within hours and
brought her home. It was the only part of her life in which Karen kept
me at a distance, so I can't tell you much more than that."
"Well, if something happened to Karen I assume her will would
have stipulated some sort of arrangements for the girl. But now that
you mention it, Gunther, that IS strange...." Mulder was silent for
several minutes, thinking furiously. "The yard is perfectly
kept....What would you say this neighborhood is like? The sorts of
people who live here?"
Neumann's face held a ghost of a smile. "I used to tease Karen
about that sometimes. This is the very essence of 'Yuppie' around
here. Mostly couples who are professional people, work Monday through
Friday and then spend the weekend at their condos in Marblehead or on
the Cape or up in the mountains in New Hampshire. Why do you ask?"
"In other words, no friendly and attentive neighbors, no one who
would be likely to ask questions about why they hadn't seen her around.
Just as long as there was nothing to focus attention on the fact that
she wasn't here - like an overgrown lawn. I suspect, Gunther, that
someone has been keeping up appearances for the neighbors." Mulder was
silent again for a few minutes.
He put his head close to the Professor's and, speaking softly,
confirmed the man's suspicions as gently as he could. "I think Karen
was kidnapped, and possibly her daughter as well. I can't say whether
they are alive or not, but evidently someone wants it to look like they
are. There are some things I can check, but not until morning." He
looked over at the Professor, who appeared to have aged several years
in the brief minutes since they had entered the house.
"I'm sorry, Gunther. I'll do everything I can, call in all my
markers on this one." With a confidence he didn't feel, he continued,
"We'll find them. Try not to worry."

- - - - -

Mulder put down the telephone and rubbed his forehead wearily.
He had slept poorly the previous night, despite the happy associations
of the canopy bed. Too much on his mind, he had decided, somewhere
around 3:15 a.m. Now it appeared that they were looking for two or
possibly three missing persons instead of just one. Mulder was thankful
only that his news was not worse. He left the study and went down the
hall to the formal dining room where the rest of the group was
finishing their breakfast.
Scully had already received the bad news via their connection.
She pushed a fresh cup of coffee over to him as he joined everyone at
the table.
Gratefully, Mulder took a long swallow of his coffee and then
looked up to find himself the focus of attention. His features twisted
into a grimace that was supposed to be a smile and he sighed. "Okay, I
have good news and I have bad news. For good news, neither Karen nor
Andalor has turned up at any area hospitals, nor have there been any
bodies found that bear their descriptions. Neither are they in jail.
I contacted the utility companies, since the power and phone were
working at Karen's house. The bills for both Karen's property as well
as the Professor's house have been paid regularly with checks from
Karen's checking account and apparently signed by her. The envelopes
had Boston postmarks. So some of the more unpleasant possibilities
have been reduced - though not eliminated, I'm sorry to say. As far as
bad news goes, it still means we have no idea where either Karen or
Andalor might be, or what kind of trouble they might be in. I'm open
to suggestions about how to proceed."
Jourdain looked serious. "From what I have seen, your world is
huge and contains so many people that our task is enormous. Therefore,
I recommend splitting into teams to lessen our work and save time.
Since it appears we now have two problems rather than one, perhaps one
team should attempt to find Andalor, and the other should try to find
Karen. Mulder should be on one team and Scully on the other to bring
their skills and training to both. As for the rest of us, perhaps if
we choose a team? Or perhaps Mulder and Scully can choose the members
of their teams. But we must move fast. Every moment that passes
increases the danger for Andalor, and perhaps for the Professor's
colleague as well."
Scully and Mulder looked at each other and communicated briefly.
Then Scully spoke. "All right. I'll head up the team looking for
Karen, and I assume you will want to be on that team, Professor". The
older man nodded his assent. "I need at least one other person.
Volunteers?"
Reinald raised his hand and looked her straight in the eyes.
"Reinald? Are you sure?" asked a surprised Scully. "I would
have thought you would want to be on the team looking for Andalor."
The Mage nodded. "In some ways I would. But I fear my
attachment for the boy might inadvertently hinder the team in some way.
And besides, there is the larger consideration of magic. Mulder still
has his magical capabilities, so his team has that as a resource.
Scully's team should have the same weapon to use, if necessary.
Therefore I must be on whatever team Scully leads." He smiled at the
auburn-haired agent.
"Thank you, Reinald," Scully said warmly.
"All right," said Mulder. "That means you're both with me,
Jourdain and Aldara. Okay by you?"
Aldara nodded. "As long as I'm with Jourdain, it's okay by me.
>From what Daanna saw in her vision, I feel it is necessary for us to
stay together. But what about Tarnor? Daanna said it was necessary
for Tarnor to be with us."
Mulder looked troubled. "Tarnor, I - "
Tarnor shook his huge gray head. "It's all right, Mulder. I
realize I can't go out with the teams. I don't think I'd be doing any
team any good if I had to spend all my time running for my life. Is
there a function I could serve here, perhaps?"
"A very necessary function, Tarnor. With everyone having to
split up and for us having two different problems to solve, we're going
to need someone to provide back-up communication between the teams,
especially if something happens to the cellular phones. Also, I've
left the Professor's number with some of the people I contacted today,
and they may be calling here with information. Of course, Scully and I
are bonded and have some ability to communicate through that bond. But
how much and how clearly we can communicate is dependent on distance,
and we have no idea how distant we may be from each other today. So
when all else fails - the phones and our bond-link - it will be up to
you to keep us in touch with each other. Scully can show you how the
phone works."
"But Mulder, what about the prophecy?" asked Aldara anxiously.
Scully patted her friend's hand. "We can't risk Tarnor going
out, Aldara. He knows what happened the last time he was here. Maybe
Tarnor's staying here IS going to fulfill the prophecy in some way, we
just don't know."
Worried, Aldara nodded and clasped her husband's hand.
"Very well," said Jourdain. "Everyone should have the portraits
of Andalor with them, and you should be armed. We must be ready for
anything."

------------------------
End Chpt10 Part A
------------------------

Chapter Ten Part B

Gordon glanced up at the knock on his door. "Come", he said,
without enthusiasm. One look at who had entered and he was even less
enthusiastic, if indeed that were possible. With a 'why me' expression
on his face, he threw his pen down on the desk and stared at his
visitor. "Yes, what is it?"
Earl was nervous, and it showed. "I dunno, boss, somethin' weird
happened last night and I was thinkin' about it all night and decided
I'd better tell you about it."
"Well, go on, for God's sake. Don't waste my time."
"Okay, okay. It's just that - you know how you put me in charge
of getting the guy to take care of the outside of the Doc's place and
her boss's place, right? Well, I hired this guy named Fred who I knew
when we was both in Walpole." Earl wiped his sweaty palms on his pants
and rocked from one foot to the other.
Gordon sighed. This was definitely going nowhere fast. "Yes?"
"Well, somethin' weird happened last night."
"Look, are you going to get to the point soon, Earl? Because if
not, I have plenty of things to do."
"Yeah, yeah, okay, it was like this, see. I gets a call late
last night from Fred Rollins, he's the guy I hired to take care of the
- "
"We have been through this once already, Earl," Gordon said
through clenched teeth, mentally cursing his boss. He had a few things
to say to that nicotine-addicted son of a bitch when he got back to
Washington. If this project was so goddamn important, the least he
could do is give Gordon enough up-front cash to enable him to hire
someone other than the morons that were willing to work for peanuts.
Or free up some of the operatives that had done such nice work for that
damn Morley poster-boy in Washington. Like that kid who was so
promising, Alex something or other.
"Yeah. Well. Fred calls me last night and says did we know
someone was in the Professor's house?"
"What?" Gordon's voice slashed out. "Who was at the Professor's
house?"
"Well, now, he didn't know 'em himself. But he said that there
was two ladies that he saw coming out of the house about seven o'clock
last night. See, he was drivin' by on his way to Bingo at Sacred
Heart, and it's not right on his way, but he likes to check it out for
himself every once in a while - the Professor's house, get it?"
"Yes, I 'get it'. What did they look like?"
Earl looked blank. "Who?"
It was only by a superhuman exertion of restraint that Gordon did
not pull out his revolver and put the lackey out of his misery. "The
two women."
"Oh - he said one had red hair and one had black hair. But it
was pretty dark out, so he wasn't too sure."
"Is there any chance one of them could be Karen's kid?" Gordon's
stare was ice cold and penetrating.
"Karen's... oh, you mean the Doc. Her kid. Oh! The one that
escaped outta here! I never thought of that. I dunno, boss, maybe.
Fred wasn't sure of too much. He went drinkin' after Bingo, and he
didn't call me 'til after that, so he was pretty well tanked by the
time he called me."
"Just as a matter of interest, Earl. What time was it when Fred
called you?"
"Well, I guess it was pretty close to midnight. I was just -"
"And what time is it now?"
"Umm - pretty close to nine thirty."
"Earl, get the hell out before I lose control of myself and kill
you where you stand. And tell Karen to get her ass in here."
The oaf looked transfixed for a few moments while the message of
his boss's words sank in. Then he came to what few senses he had and
jumped. "All right, boss, right away."
From the description, it didn't sound like Karen's brat, Gordon
thought, but dealing with people like Fred and Earl, anything was
possible. Shannon would probably have known about the Professor, known
that he had disappeared, known that the house would be empty. A perfect
place for her to hole up until - what? Gordon pondered. Maybe the kid
and Karen had a plan set up, just in case one of them escaped.
Although from what he had seen, there was little love lost between
them. Well, regardless, something had to be done.
There was a perfunctory knock at the door, and Karen entered,
followed by an anxious-looking Earl.
"Here she is, boss."
"Fine. Now stand there and shut up." He turned his attention to
Karen, narrowing his eyes as he surveyed her. "I wonder what you have
up your sleeve, Karen. I can never figure out what's going on in that
head of yours. Where's your daughter?"
"Shannon? I don't have any idea. Why would I? We've never
taken any prizes in communication." Karen coolly walked to the chair
in front of the desk and sat.
"Does she know Professor Neumann? Does she know where he lives?"
"She's met him, but it has been a while." Karen was puzzled -
why was Gordon asking these questions. "I have an experiment to get
back to - if you're finished?" She started to get up.
"SIT down! No, I am not finished. Evidently, two females were
spotted coming out of Professor Neumann's house last night. Do you
know anything about that?"
The look of bewilderment on Karen's face was obviously genuine.
"No, I don't know anything about it." Furiously, she began thinking.
Maybe if Shannon had met up with one of her street friends... She knew
that Shannon was aware of where the Professor lived, although she had
taken as little interest in that as she had any of her mother's
business. It was just possible Shannon had gone there, knowing that
she couldn't go home. Her attention was dragged away from her thoughts
by Gordon's voice.
"It has to be checked out. Earl, you and Rollins take Karen over
to Professor Neumann's house. You are to have your gun on her at all
times, do you understand? If the girl is there, tell her you'll kill
her mother if she doesn't come with you." He was interrupted by
Karen's humorless laugh.
"You'll have to think of a bigger threat than that, Gordon. She
couldn't care less if I lived or died."
Gordon surveyed her coldly. "If Karen is dead, we certainly have
no need for her daughter. If the girl won't come with you, kill them
both - got it, Earl?"
"Yeah, boss." As far as Gordon was concerned, the only
advantage to Earl was that he was totally without morals or conscience.
It wouldn't bother him a bit to kill two women.
Again, the operative turned his attention to Karen. "You'll
leave immediately."
"That's not possible. I'm midway through the next series of
trials. You know as well as I do that if I stop now, it will take days
to set up everything so we can start again. Of course, it's up to
you," Karen concluded sarcastically. She was relieved she had started
the trial - especially if it would buy a little time for Shannon, if
she were at the Professor's house.
Gordon thought. Damn, he hated it when that bitch was right.
"Alright, I assume if you're midway, that means you'll be finished in
about three hours, correct?" Grudgingly, the scientist nodded. "Very
well, you'll go then. Since Earl didn't bother to inform me until more
than twelve hours had passed since they were sighted, I don't suppose
another three hours will make much difference." He strolled over to
Karen and ran the back of a finger down her cheek, then roughly grabbed
her chin to force her to look at him. In a deceptively soft voice he
said, "Don't make the mistake of underestimating me, Karen. While
your services are helpful and a time-saver, at this point you are NOT
indispensable, do I make myself clear?"

- - - - -

Scully found a place to park on the campus with some difficulty.
She and her companions got out of the car and started the long walk
back to the building that housed the Professor's lab, where this
adventure had started seemingly very long ago.
"Gunther, is that you? Where the bloody hell have you been, old
man?"
"Edgar! Don't tell me you've duped some misguided government
agency into actually funding your research. What was it - something
about the sleep cycles of ferrets?"
The tall gaunt German embraced his short, round British colleague
and then performed introductions. He passed Reinald off as Scully's
grandfather.
"Edgar, I don't suppose you have seen Karen around, have you? I
haven't seen her since I got back."
"No, sorry. I only got back here myself the beginning of
September, and haven't seen her at all. Which reminds me, old boy,
back from where? One day you were here, the next day, poof! You were
gone. Provoked a lot of speculation, I can tell you."
The Professor smiled tightly. "Yes, I'm sure. Well, I guess you
could say I've been in Shangri-La, in a lot of ways. Look, if you do
see Karen, let her know that I'm back and looking for her, will you?
Nice bumping into you, Edgar. Goodbye."
Several paces later the Professor leaned in close to his
companions. "He's the biggest gossip on this campus. If he hasn't
seen Karen or heard of where she is, I fear we may not find out
anything useful here."
The group crossed a large open plaza set here and there with
modernistic sculptures. In spite of the urgency of their mission,
Reinald found himself fascinated by the structures, and turned to gaze
back over his shoulder at them long after they had left the plaza.
Their path led them through a small park under a riot of color - the
scarlet of the maple leaves and the russet and gold of the oaks and
elms. Today, the hot spell had finally snapped and it was somewhat more
seasonable for an autumn day in New England.
"We may find out something now," the Professor whispered. "That
rather odd young man you see coming towards us on his bike - that's
Alvin Milvale, used to be a graduate assistant of mine. He ended up
changing his area of concentration again - I believe he holds the MIT
record for that, actually. He's a bit bizarre, but knows what's going
on. The only trouble is separating the facts from his paranoid
ramblings." The professor straightened up and waved. "Hello, Alvin!"
"That you, Neumann?" The young man approached cautiously,
suspicion plainly on his face. "Where have you been and who's that
with you?"
Once again the Professor introduced his companions. "It's nice
to be back. How are you doing in your work, Alvin? What is it now,
metallurgy?"
"Yeah. It's okay, for now." Alvin continued to look
distrustfully at Scully and Reinald. "So where were you? You wouldn't
believe the stories that were going around about you."
"I'm almost afraid to ask."
"Yeah, I don't blame you." The young man nodded emphatically,
setting his purple-tinted dreadlocks bouncing. "There was the story
about you being at the Betty Ford Center - I enjoyed that one but
didn't believe it. A lot of people did though, especially the
Administration types. That bunch also liked the one about your falling
in love with a sixteen year old cult member and leaving to join her
cult. The grad assistants also liked that one - you know what a bunch
of hopeless romantics they are." He edged closer to the group, and
winked a pale green eye conspiratorially. "Go on, you can tell me what
really happened, Professor, because I think I already know."
"R-really?" Neumann's voice came out strangled. He sincerely
hoped that his travels through the Vortex were not public knowledge.
"And what do you think happened, Alvin?"
The young man had held his theories private for long enough. He
looked triumphantly at the Professor. "You were abducted by aliens,
weren't you?"
Scully immediately quashed her impulse to laugh. Take away the
purple hair and the nose rings and he could be a Lone Gunman. Maybe
even with them, now that she thought about it. Reinald, not knowing
what an alien was, merely looked politely receptive.
"Yes, well, it's all a bit hazy," muttered Neumann. "Alvin, I
don't suppose you've seen Karen around, have you?
"No. In fact, that was another of the stories going around. She
kinda just disappeared out of the blue - kinda like you did. Most of
the guys in Physics thought that you took off first to find a love
nest, and then she followed you there."
Neumann shook his head to clear that image from his mind. "When
did she disappear?"
"Just before everyone came back from summer break, maybe end of
August. Your lab's been locked up since then. Need the key? I was
going to return it eventually, anyway." Alvin began to thread the key
off a chain that had close to fifty keys on it. Seeing their eyes on
it, he explained defensively, "When you've been a grad assistant in
seven or eight different departments, you tend to collect these." He
handed the key to Neumann. "
See you around - and if you ever decide to tell me about the aliens,
I'd really like to know. I've been thinking about giving Space
Medicine or Astronomy a try." The young man rode off without so much
as a backward glance.
Another ten minutes' walk finally brought them to the Professor's
building. They trudged up the steps familiar to both Scully and
Neumann to the outer door of his lab. He inserted the key Alvin had
given him into the lock and pushed open the door. The anteroom looked
much as Scully remembered it from the last time she had been there, at
the beginning of the summer - stark and uninviting. He used the key
again to open the inner door to the lab itself and switched on the
light.
He stood completely still as he panned around the room. Scully
followed his eyes, noting equipment much like she had seen on her
previous visits.
"No."
The word was flat, final, like a stone dropped in the middle of a
deep lake. Scully turned questioningly to him.
He crossed the room to a computer resting on the counter and
logged on. Several times he tried to access files only to find they
were not in the device's memory. Next he flicked switches on an
adjacent machine, with no results. Almost frantic, he went from
machine to machine, pushing buttons, adjusting dials and leaning over
to read displays. Finally he straightened up and turned to Scully.
"This isn't my equipment," he said. "These are all elaborate
fakes."

- - - - -

Mulder drew a hand down the back of his head to the tense knots
in his neck. The trip to the Boston office of the FBI had been less
than successful - much less than successful. Now he and Jourdain and
Aldara stood in the concrete expanse of Government Center and pondered
their next move.
"Look," he said. "We might as well go to the nearest police
station and get into their computers to see if anyone has reported
seeing Andalor." He was sick with disappointment and frustration that
nothing had been heard of the boy at the FBI office - that indeed, they
claimed never to have received Scully's faxed composite sketch. He
thought he knew who was responsible for that - the same person who
treated Jourdain and Aldara to nearly twenty minutes of "Spooky Mulder"
stories. The recitation was accompanied by the laughter of the other
agents in the office, lounging indolently on desks. Jourdain glowered
more with every story and Aldara was infuriated, but Charley had taken
no notice of their response. The swift departure of Mulder and his
party was inspired less by Mulder's personal humiliation and
embarrassment for the Bureau, than by his very reasonable conce
rn that his companions might start to wipe the floor with the entire
contingent of Boston FBI agents.
Rather than get the car out of the garage and have to deal with
finding another parking space, the trio walked across the modernistic
plaza and through the narrow, historic streets to the nearest police
station. Aldara laid a comforting hand on Mulder's arm and received an
all-too-rare smile in return. "It's okay, Aldara, it doesn't bother
me," he said. "I just hate the time we've lost in looking for
Andalor, and I hate the fact that they made the Bureau look like a
bunch of jerks. They're not all like that," he explained wryly. "Just
most of them."
They rounded a corner to see an historic brick building with a
blue light outside. "This must be the place," Mulder said. They
entered and Mulder flashed his badge at the desk sergeant. The officer
put down the stack of papers he was reading and turned his full
attention to the group - a decidedly odd looking group, with a
clean-cut guy who didn't need a badge to identify him as Government, a
knockout babe and a middle aged guy who looked like he would be a rough
customer in a fight.
"Yessir, and what can I do for you?"
"We're looking for a kid - this kid," he replied, giving a copy
of the composite sketch of the Prince to the officer.
The cop gave the sketch a cursory look and looked at Mulder
speculatively. "What do you want him for? He looks a little young to
have broken any Federal laws."
"No, no Federal laws broken," Mulder said smoothly. "His
parents are in the Witness Protection Program and are due to testify in
a big drug cartel case. The kid had a fight with them about something
and ran away. Now the parents are saying they won't testify unless we
find him and bring him back." Not being the best natural prevaricator
in the world, Mulder was glad he had fashioned a cover story in
advance.
"These his parents?"
"Ah, no. No, these are...representatives of the WPP."
The desk sergeant put on his glasses and tapped at the keyboard
in front of him. "Name?"
"Uhh...I can't give you that - Program rules." Mulder turned to
Aldara for assistance.
She nodded. "That's right. He would probably not be using his
own name anyway so it is pointless to give it to you." Both of her
male companions looked on approvingly.
The sergeant peered down at her over the tops of his glasses,
then wordlessly went back to his computer, entering the description of
the boy from the sketch. He pressed the enter key and sat back.
Within seconds, the monitor screen began to fill with lines of data.
"Okay! Here's something. We have one kid in lockup that could be
the kid you're looking for. Your kid have a record?"
"No."
"Well, that's not him then. Wait a minute...yeah, here's
something. We had a report of a gang fight yesterday - one of the
local bunch that's always up to no good. That's not news, but
apparently the people they went after were not as helpless as they had
hoped. A boy and a girl, and the boy answers the description of the
kid you're looking for. We'd like to talk to that young man ourselves,
actually. I'm sure it was self-defense, knowing this bunch of thugs,
but it seems your kid stabbed one of the gang members, kid by the name
of Francis. Francis is at Boston City in the ICU, but it looks like
he's going to make it."
Mulder put a hand to his face in the pose he usually adopted when
thinking furiously. "I don't suppose it would be possible to interview
the kid in the hospital, would it?" he said after several moments.
"Fraid not. They won't let us talk to him either." Noting the
disappointment on their faces, the desk sergeant took pity on them and
smiled. "Hey, I can do something for you, though, if you think you can
handle it. I can tell you this gang's turf, you can go down there and
talk to these kids yourself, maybe get an idea from them where your kid
went. They're probably out for blood, so watch yourselves. Don't know
whether I'd take the little lady with you."
Jourdain grunted, a small smile on his face. Mulder covered a
laugh with a cough. "Actually, she can take care of herself pretty
well." For her part, Aldara's face burned, her stance and expression
making her look extremely dangerous at that moment.
The cop gave them directions to an extremely bad neighborhood in
Dorchester, and again warned them to be careful. Mulder left his card
on the desk and offered his hand to the officer. The two shook warmly.
"Thanks. You've been extremely helpful."
Once outside, Aldara gave vent to her frustrations and cursed
inventively in New Realm, leaving Mulder snickering. "Okay, we'll need
the car, although I don't expect to keep the wheels for very long in
the neighborhood we're headed to. Let's go back to the parking
garage."

--------------------------
End Chpt10 Part B
--------------------------

Chapter Ten Part C

The three walked down the street, their eyes never stopping as
they searched all the alleys and vacant buildings where gang members
were likely to hang out. But over an hour of walking the filthy,
noisome streets had been fruitless, and time was on all of their minds.
Mulder drew the three into a loading bay.
"I don't think we're going to get anywhere with this approach -
we just look too threatening. Aldara, what if you went ahead? We'll
stay within shouting distance, and most of the time we'll stay close
enough to see you. But I think we're going to have to use some bait,
or we'll never get these guys to come out."
Aldara's emerald eyes glittered. "You mean that because I appear
weak, they will be more likely to come after me."
Mulder looked at her directly and nodded. "That's exactly what I
mean. No offense, Aldara, but you do look like you'd be a pushover.
Jourdain and I know that you're a lethal weapon, but it would surprise
the hell out of anyone else." He smiled at her, hopeful that he had
not insulted her. He knew how sensitive she was about the slight limp.
Fortunately she took it with good grace. "Just another of my
weapons, Mage Mulder - the element of surprise," she said, flashing him
a brilliant grin. "Okay, where do you want me to go?"
While Mulder was pointing out a likely road through the slum,
Jourdain kept silent. The gods knew that he did not want to subject
his wife to whatever animals were out there, no matter how near to her
he and Mulder were going to be. But he knew that Aldara would deeply
resent any interference on his part. She still considered herself a
warrior. Indeed her skills were equal in many ways to his own. It was
just that he had never quite lost the urge to protect his diminutive
wife, no matter how little she needed protection. He was only afraid
that at some point, wildcat that she was, she would find herself in a
situation where she was not able to fend for herself. Unhappy about
the plan, he nonetheless stayed quiet.
"And remember, Aldara - try to look vulnerable," Mulder smiled.
"You're looking far too dangerous at the moment."
She suddenly lost the look of a warrior about to go into battle,
and instead appeared to shrink before their eyes. She started off down
the street, walking close to the sides of the buildings, limping
heavily. She seemingly paid no attention to her surroundings, humming
distractedly and weaving a bit, as if she had been drinking. Mulder
and Jourdain followed on the opposite side of the street, about a
hundred yards back. The younger man could feel the tension in his
friend which intensified as the pair lost sight of Aldara when she
lurched around a corner. Her singing was louder now, the voice
tuneless, the words slurred. Without warning, the song was broken off.
An arm reached out and grabbed her, dragging her into the alley.
Savagely, she was shoved into the wall, striking her cheekbone and
opening up a small gash which began to bleed. Rough hands pulled her
around to face her assailants.
"Aw shit, Jackie, ya messed her up. She woulda been more fun
pretty. Okay, lady, let's us have a good time." The punk approached
her, a knowing grin on his face, his eyes on hers, hungry to see the
fear in them. He grabbed her shirt and began to pull on it, bringing
her closer to him, his smile getting more and more lewd.
Suddenly, he saw the fear leave her eyes, to be replaced by
something more like what he saw in other guys' eyes when they went
looking for trouble. Puzzled, he relaxed his grip slightly for only a
second, but it was enough. Aldara spun, kicking him hard in the groin
at the same time as she drew the lethal six inch blade from its sheath
on her arm. He went down heavily, clutching himself and turning a sick
shade of green. As footsteps thundered towards her from the street,
she turned to his companion. "What about you, you pig?" she taunted.
The kid rushed at her as Mulder and Jourdain exploded into the alley.
Distracted, Aldara let him get closer to her than he ordinarily would
have. Her hand flashing out, she slashed open his cheek and sliced off
an earlobe with an elegant economy of movement. "We're even now,
trash," she said as Jourdain tackled the youth to the ground and
pinned him there. She wiped the blood from her blade on the punk's
clothing and then returned it to its hiding place.
"You boys have been naughty, haven't you?" Mulder said softly,
leaning against the wall of the alley. "If the little lady" - he
flashed a look of apology to Aldara - " can do this, just think what
the Big Guy can do. Now, I strongly suggest that you cooperate,
because I really wouldn't want your blood splashing all over my suit,
okay? I need you to answer some questions for me."
The two punks looked at him sullenly, one holding his crotch and
the other the place where his earlobe used to be.
"I hope that was a yes," Mulder smiled coldly. "Now, tell me
about the kid that stuck your buddy yesterday."
The pair remained silent.
Mulder sighed. "Joudain...."
"NO! No, I'll answer," said the punk who wasn't bleeding. "It
was a kid, a few years younger than us. Blond hair, freakin' weird
purple eyes, man. He was with some chick - musta been related to this
bitch, she was a fighter, too. I dunno what's happenin' to this
neighborhood, man. Hey, wait!!" His words were choked off, as
Jourdain could not let an obvious insult to his wife pass without some
sort of action.
"That's enough, Jourdain," Mulder said mildly. "This him?"
Mulder showed the kid Andalor's sketch and he nodded grudgingly. "All
right then, where did this kid go?"
The punk rubbed his throat and glowered at Jourdain. "I dunno,
he coulda went anywhere. After he stuck Frankie, him and the bitch
took off that way." He indicated a general southerly direction. "I'll
tell ya somethin' though - it looked like they was running away from
somebody."
"Okay. I'll call an ambulance for you gentlemen. And I wouldn't
bother to lodge a complaint against the lady - you'll be laughed out of
town by both the cops and the other gangs on the street." One look at
the faces of the two told Mulder that reporting being carved up by a
woman half their size was the last thing they were going to do. While
Jourdain tenderly wiped his wife's face clean of blood and dirt, Mulder
cuffed the pair through a drainpipe to ensure they would not go
anywhere. He left the key in plain sight but out of reach. Then he
phoned for the ambulance. "Okay, let's go," he said to Jourdain and
Aldara.
They found their car still in one piece, but even that did not
negate their disappointment. They had all been hoping for more of a
lead to Andalor's whereabouts than they got. It was a huge city and
they still had no idea where in it the Prince might be. The thought
that he might have been pursued by persons unknown did not help their
anxiety. They got into the car and drove in the direction of South
Boston. Picking up his cellular phone, Mulder dialed Scully's number.

- - - - -

Scully sat in the conference room in which she and Mulder had
told the Professor of their incredible experiences in the Realm the
previous Spring. The mood, however, was not similar in the least.
It was a disconsolate man who sat here before her. Neumann had
known there was something wrong when he went to Karen's house the
previous night. But now he had to accept the fact that not only was
she missing, but it was very likely that his work with the Vortex had
something to do with her disappearance. And he was having a very hard
time with it.
"Look, Gunther, I know it looks bad. With all that substituted
equipment in there, it does look as though Karen may have been taken by
someone planning to use your equipment and her brain to carry out some
sort of clandestine research."
"There can be no other explanation, Scully. And whoever is doing
it has a lot of money and power behind them." The Professor looked at
her, his color pale, his eyes full of guilt and pain. "The equipment
in there is useless, but that doesn't mean that it was cheap. There's
probably $20,000 worth of bogus hardware in there, and it's just a very
good smokescreen. And I suspect considerable power was very quietly
exerted to prevent her disappearance from becoming a cause celebre."
"Professor, remember when Mulder and I came back from the Realm
and you were going to have your lab swept for bugs? What ever happened
with that?" Scully asked. She had a glimmering of an idea that would
explain everything.
"Yes, I arranged for the lab to be checked for listening devices,
and a couple were found. Both were state of the art, and were the
subject of much admiration by the friend who did the work. I let him
keep them."
"Any idea when they may have been planted?"
"The most obvious time is when the storm troopers from Hanscom
came in, looking for you and Mulder. I can't think when else it might
have been."
"So they had about a day and a half to pick up information,"
Scully muttered. Louder, she asked, "This is important. I know it's
been a long time, but can you remember anything that might have been
said during those 36 hours?"
"My dear, a gargoyle had suddenly appeared in the lab, and a few
hours later, you and Mulder and the gargoyle disappeared into thin air
from the same lab. What do you think Karen and I were discussing, the
weather? We discussed nothing BUT the strange occurrences, and what
the import might be to our experiments. Although I can certainly say
now that I wish I hadn't." The Professor leaned his elbows on the
conference table and held his head in his hands.
Scully was silent for a few minutes. "With Karen and your
equipment, do you think that whoever is responsible for the abduction
would be able to create vortexes?"
"I don't doubt it for an instant. I think Karen is being
compelled somehow to cooperate with them - she would never voluntarily
do it. But yes, they would be as capable as I am myself."
Slowly, Scully nodded. It was becoming clearer - the answer to
so many of their questions. "All the bills that have been paid out of
Karen's account have local postmarks. That doesn't prove anything, but
I think that it's a small enough detail that it might have been missed
if she were being held at any distance." She became surer of her idea
as she talked. "I think Karen is still in the area, with her
abductors. It would have been less complicated to transport both her
and the equipment a short distance than a long one." She grimaced
slightly. "And, although it is certainly less scientific, I somehow
"feel" that she is close by."
"Listen to those feelings, Scully," Reinald said gravely.
"Corvay has immense respect for your psychic abilities, an opinion
which I share. No matter how uncomfortable you are with that, your
talents are a fact."
She did indeed seem uncomfortable, squirming in her chair with a
disquieted expression on her face. "Well, I have other feelings about
this. Professor, where did you say it was most likely that Andalor
emerged from the Vortex?"
"Oh, within a five mile radius of here - no more than that."
She was silent a few moments, then sighed. "Okay. I may be
crazy, but I think the same people that are responsible for Karen's
disappearance may also know something about Andalor." She looked at
her companions to judge their reaction to her statement, half expecting
outright derision, but both had thoughtful expressions on their faces
as they considered her theory.
"Hmmm. Possible." The Professor turned to his companions,
showing more animation. "I have done some preliminary work - all on
paper and in theory, mind you - on the hypothesis that there is some
sort of attraction between vortexes. Not magnetism, in fact not a
force like anything else, something new. If - and it would be a
considerable coincidence - if Andalor were travelling in his Vortex
about the same time that this unknown group was conducting a vortex
experiment, it is possible that the two would influence each other.
And it is possible, if my attraction theory is correct, that Andalor
could have emerged at the vortex that was created on this world."
Just as she was considering the implications of the Professor's
statement her cellular phone beeped. "Hello?"
"Hi," Mulder's voice responded. "Wish I had better news to give
you. We're kind of stalled here. The Bureau was a washout - Charley
Floyd's fine handiwork again. We had some better luck at the cop shop
- found a gang who had been involved in a fight with a kid answering
Andalor's description, right down to the purple eyes."
"Is he alright?" Scully's voice was troubled. If her theory was
correct, it didn't seem possible that Andalor would be out getting into
gang fights.
"Yeah, fine. Put one of the gang in the hospital. With a little
coaxing, the punks said that it seemed like Andalor was on the run from
something."
"Mulder, that's it!" Excitedly, Scully told her partner her
theory. "That must mean Andalor escaped somehow and is on the run."
"Did your vibes pick up anything else?" Mulder asked. "Because
apparently he has a female companion."
Scully relayed the information to the Professor and Reinald.
"Did he get a description of the girl?" inquired the Professor. She
repeated the question for Mulder.
"No, just that apparently she was quite a handful, did almost as
much damage to the gang as Andalor."
The Professor almost smiled. "That certainly COULD be Shannon.
It's not much of a description, but what there is fits her very well."
"Trouble is, Scully, that we're pretty much at a standstill out
here. We're just driving around in the general direction he was
headed in, but it's a hell of a long-shot to think that we'll spot him
just walking around somewhere. And we really don't have any better
course of action right now."
Scully paused, then said, "Why don't you take a few more minutes
to check around that area. If you still feel that the trail is cold
and you're just wasting your time, then why don't you meet us over at
the Professor's house and we can figure out our next step. Who knows -
maybe something will happen to give us a lead."

- - - - -

Rollins drove up the driveway and shut off the engine. In the
back seat, Earl nudged Karen with his silenced Beretta and she opened
the door and slowly got out.
"I don't think anyone will be at home," she said loudly.
"Shut up, bitch," Rollins demanded. "Do you want the whole
neighborhood to know we're here?"
Something like that, she thought grimly. Anything to warn
Shannon, if she were in the house, that she was about to have visitors
and to give her some time to hide.
Inside, Tarnor had heard the car drive up. He had wandered
through the house for a good portion of the morning. The phone had
been silent, except for a call from Mulder checking to see that
everything was all right. He had been getting a little bored. Peeking
between the slats of the venetian blinds at the dining room window, he
saw Dr. Mather, whom he recognized from his last trip to this world.
With her were two enormous men, one of whom had a shooting weapon
pressed into her side. Tarnor released the blind and stepped back to
think. These were the men who had kidnapped Karen, and suddenly it was
up to him to do something about it.
The trio outside walked slowly to the door. Karen searched her
purse for her key-ring, dropped it not once but twice, and proceeded to
try several keys in the lock. Patience exhausted, Earl kicked in the
door and shoved Karen inside. He and Rollins followed.
"What the hell - " Earl's eyes bugged out his head and his jaw
became slacker than usual as he watched a gray monster levitate itself
to hover three feet above the floor. Terrified, Rollins stumbled
backwards and into the wall, then stumbled to his feet and raced out
the door. Seconds later, the car's engine roared into life, accompanied
by the squeal of the tires.
Tarnor spread his arms and focused his energy. A deep blue aura
radiated from him to completely surround him. Slowly he began to
descend to the floor at the same rate that Earl began to rise. The
mage fluttered his fingers. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then
the hapless man's feet flew out from under him as he somersaulted
through the air. Karen sprang back to hug the wall to avoid flailing
limbs as the man writhed in mid-air. Eerie sounds began to emerge from
his throat as he cartwheeled around the room.
Tarnor flipped his hand palmside up, and seconds later Earl was
upright again. Just for an instant, the gargoyle crossed his eyes.
Earl shot forward to slam his head into the wall with a sickening thud.
His unconscious form hung limply in the air, until Tarnor relaxed his
concentration. The aura faded and Earl fell to the ground.
Quickly the gargoyle gathered the clothesline he had brought in
and tied the thug's arms and legs together. At some point during his
task, his mind registered the fact that he seemed not to be
experiencing the weakness that had plagued Reinald's and Mulder's use
of magic. Making sure that the man would not escape the bonds, he
rolled him down the steps to the basement.
Only then did Tarnor appear to take notice of Karen. He flashed
his fearsome teeth in a gargoyle grin. "Dr. Mather! How delightful!
It's been a long time."

End of Chapter Ten