"The Chill Within'
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dochermes"The Chill Within"
9/29/1995
I.
The sword missed him by a good three inches and sank deeply into the wooden beam holding up the roof of the porch. For that next second, the Melgar warrior tugged, trying to get his weapon free and the Dire Wolf moved in with a short hooking punch that almost broke the man's jaw. Tough as Melgarin were, that blow dazed the man and his defenses dropped. Bane drew his fist back to his own armpit and drove it forward with a savage impact that forced the air from the Melgar's lungs with a whoosh. The warrior sagged to a seated position and desperately tried to catch his breath.
Jeremy Bane seized the hilt of the straight sword and yanked it loose from where it had been wedged into the support beam. He glanced around, no one else was in sight. This small summer cottage sat at the end of a dirt driveway and the main road could not be seen through all the bushes and trees. Good. He noticed fresh tire tracks in the dirt next to the cottage, but no sign of the vehicle itself.
The Melgar was recovering, trying to get to his feet. Bane threw the sword far out into the bushes and turned to face the warrior with bare hands. As the Melgar rose, the Dire Wolf whirled on one foot and blasted a reverse crescent kick with the other leg that smacked his heel against the warrior's cheek with a loud crack. The man sagged again and ended sitting up on the porch with his head down.
"Stay put," the Dire Wolf snapped. At six feet and one hundred and seventy pounds, he was much smaller than the bulky Melgar but he was obviously in control of the situation. Bane studied the dazed man suspiciously. The Melgar was not wearing the usual garments of his Race but instead was dressed in ordinary work boots, jeans and a flannel shirt. The short brown beard and roughly cropped hair gave him an outdoorsy look; someone who did not know about the Midnight War might take him for a lumberjack.
Bane stepped over to the open door of the cottage and peered inside. No one was in sight, and his instincts told him the place was empty. Good. He turned back to the Melgar. "Bruldor, isn't it? King Holmir told me you had come to the world in service to Avathor. You don't interest me, it's Avathor I want. Where is he?"
The Melgar had opened bleary dark eyes and glared sullenly at his enemy. "Never will I break my trust," he said. "Do your worst."
The Dire Wolf reached into an inner pocket of his black sport jacket and drew out a flat metal case. Before Bruldor could react, Bane had yanked back the man's sleeve and stabbed the needle of a syringe into the exposed forearm. The Melgar grunted in surprise, tried to rise but was shoved roughly onto his back on the porch.
"This'll take effect in about twenty to thirty seconds," Bane remarked as he carefully replaced the empty hypo to its case and pocketed it. "You'll feel nausea and dizziness. In another minute, your inhibitions will weaken and you will answer any question I ask."
"No! Never!" came the reply, but the voice was already unsteady.
Bane got to one knee, bending over the disoriented mentor. "Your pupils are already dilated. Okay, Bruldor. Let's get this over with. Who else does Avathor have working for him...?"
II.
Half an hour later, the Dire Wolf ran down the main road to where he had left his Mustang under a tree. Bruldor had not been much help. The Melgar had been supposed to wait at the cabin for the next two days until Avathor had returned with some unspecified treasure. Even worse, Bruldor did not know what other henchmen Avathor might have picked up. A search of the cottage turned up only a duffel bag with a change of clothing, some canned food and two short swords.
Disgusted, Bane got into the dark green Mustang and started it up. He had left Bruldor lying on the couch in the living room after injecting the Melgar with a Trom serum that would leave him groggy and weak for the next day or so. This was a way to keep enemy out of the way without permanent damage. Even though Bruldor had immediately tried to decapitate him as soon as they met, Bane did not have it in him to simply execute the helpless man. He had done that once when first starting out in the Midnight War and it had troubled him ever since.
If he had teammates working with him, one would have stayed at the cottage while the rest searched. But the KDF had been disbanded after that hellish night in Necropolis, and Bane's tentative thoughts about establishing a new team were still just in the planning stages. He headed back toward Clermont, where he had been going in the first place before the report of Avathor had reached him. He had tangled with Avathor once before with inconclusive results and had been hoping to settle things.
As he entered Clermont, Bane regarded the village sourly. He had never been in Vermont before and wasn't comfortable with the feel of small towns. All the neat little lawns and freshly painted white houses, the church at one end of the town and the small supermarket at the other.. it seemed too pristine and perfect to suit him. He was a big city boy, born and raised in Manhattan, and Clermont seemed like something from a Norman Rockwell painting to him. The fact that it was a sunny summer afternoon only added to the effect. Bane found a parking spot on the main street, which was inevitably called Main Street, and slipped a quarter into the meter.
Trotting quickly down the sidewalk, he found what he was looking for... a picture window with YESTERDAY'S TREASURES written in royal blue script and a display of old clothing beneath it. He felt a slight twinge of guilt that he had never come out here to visit her. The Dire Wolf opened the door, which set a bell tinkling, and stepped inside. The store had racks of vintage coats and dresses on pipe iron hangers, cases of households items, old toys and battered hardcover books. There was no one behind the counter on which a cash register sat.
"Jessica?" he called. "Hello?" Bane scowled and stepped through a door behind the counter. Here was a small bathroom, with just a toilet and sink, and another door which stood half-open. Outside was a parking lot for the credit union which was next door to this building. Three cars were parked in spaces, with no one in them.
The Dire Wolf spun on his heel and rushed through the store back out onto the sidewalk, jumping into his Mustang and starting it up. He made an illegal U-turn on Main Street, tore through a red light and sped back the way he had come well over the speed limit. There were no local cops in sight. Bane drove back along Route 312 in a cold rage at being too late. He came to the dirt road which had no sign and swung into it. There was the cottage. Standing in front of it was a black Jeep Cherokee. A faint grim smile broke onto the Dire Wolf's face as he saw that. Drawing his dart gun, he leaped from his car and raced across the tiny front yard just as a bronze giant stepped out onto the porch.
III.
There was no mistaking the Gralic Leech, who was a renegade Melgar running wild in the world of Humans. Several inches over six feet in height and built like a wrestler, Avathor had dark skin, sharp blue eyes and ash blond hair with a pronounced widow's peak. The contrast between hair and skin was striking. He was wearing riding boots, black trousers and a white silk shirt open almost to the waist. As he saw Bane, Avathor scowled and shouted, "I should have known!"
Even as the Leech spoke, Bane fired three of the anesthetic darts. The CO2 cartridges made a barely audible cough. Avathor had held up his open hand and a visible shimmer showed as the three darts stopped short and dropped to the porch with clunks.
Bane holstered the dart gun. That was the problem he had expected when dealing with this guy. Avathor was called the Leech because he was able to siphon off gralic abilities from other people and use them himself. The stolen powers wore off in time, though, and he was forced to replace them. As a result, you could never tell in advance just what Avathor would be able to do. Right now, Bane realized, he had some sort of deflecting field he could put up to defend himself.
The big Melgar lowered his hand and said, "Wait. There is nothing to gain by common brawling, Dire Wolf. I know you by reputation. Tell me what you want and we may come to an understanding."
"No deals between us!" Bane snapped. "You abducted my friend." He started moving toward the porch with a steady determined tread, watching Avathor intently.
The Gralic Leech stepped down to meet the Dire Wolf, fists clenched down by his sides. "Oh, very well. Be that way." As he came within reach, Avathor lunged like a fencer and threw a quick left jab that Bane deflected with an outer block. Instantly, Bane flashed out a backfist but it stopped before connecting as if he had struck something rubbery in the way. The Dire Wolf snapped out his other fist but he had lost a valuable split-second and Avathor's big open hand slapped against the side of his face with a thump. Bane rode with the blow, stepping away from it and blasting a high side kick that should have cracked Avathor's sternum. Instead, his boot was deflected away by that same invisible barrier and again he was left open just long enough for the Leech to backhand him hard across the face. No serious harm was done, but Bane drew back a few paces.
"Hah! You cannot harm me but I can strike you as I please," Avathor gloated. "Come, try again."
"I notice you can still see and hear," was Bane's reply. He unhooked a small metal ovoid from the back of his belt and tossed it up in the air between them, then opened his mouth wide and cupped his hand over his ears, closing his eyes and turning his head away. Before Avathor could react, the dazzle grenade detonated with an intolerable white glare and a deep booming crack louder than thunder. The Gralic Leech staggered helplessly, dazed by the noise and seeing nothing but white after-image swirling before his eyes. At once, Bane was at him with a flurry of alternating left-right body blows that drummed against Avathor's ribs. Stunned and unable to breath, the Gralic Leech lowered his defenses and the Dire Wolf nailed him with a left hook that spun the big Melgar halfway around. As his opponent fell to the dirt, Bane exhaled sharply and flexed his hands. It had been like hitting a side of beef.
Bane took a pair of handcuffs from his belt and fastened Avathor's right wrist to left ankle, then left him lying there. "I'll deal with you in a minute," he told the unconscious Melgar. Rubbing his hands to keep them from getting stiff, the Dire Wolf hopped up to the porch and peered into the cottage. There was Bruldor, still snoring on the couch and out from the enervation serum. Bane saw the half-open door of the bedroom and went in. Lying face up on the double bed was a slim brunette in her early thirties, dressed in white slacks and a dark blue blouse. Her light brown hair was spread out under her head.
It had not been that many years since he had last seen Jessica Segal, and she had not changed visibly. He was relieved to see she was fully dressed, since Avathor had a reputation for molesting prisoners. Bane took her pulse and listened to her breathing, both seemed strong. He bent over and sniffed over her face but couldn't smell any chemicals that might have been used to knock her out.
The Dire Wolf stood by the bed, remembering when he had first met this woman more than a decade earlier. That desperate battle with Seth Petrov and with the Russian warlock Rodchenko who had unwittingly trggered Jessica Segal's innate gralic abilities. She had become an emotionless presence with white hair and pale skin, an ice goddess who could project cold that froze solid anything within her line of sight. For a few years, she had called herself Jessica Frost and had served well as one of his Tel Shai knights.
Then, over only a few days, her freezing powers faded and her coloring returned to normal. Her emotions also restored themselves. Bane had been glad to see this, even though it cost him a powerful ally, because it meant she had healed. Jessica had kept saved her KDF stipend, leaving her with more than enough to open a small antique store here in her home town. Cindy had come to visit her twice, and then they had all drifted apart.
Now she was in danger again. How had Avathor known about her, or where to find her? Had he simply sensed her latent gralic abilities, like a predator smelling prey? Bane wondered if he should try to roust Jessica. He shook her gently and said, "Hey. Wake up. Jessica?" He listed closely to hear her breathing.
In a split-second, he caught movement in the doorway and wheeled around just as a burst of cloudy vapor sprayed right in his face. For once, Bane was not quite quick enough and took in a lungful. Whatever the gas was, it was potent. He was blacking out before he hit the floor.
IV.
Bane snapped back to full awareness, opening his eyes to see Avathor leering down at him. The Dire Wolf tried to get up, found his wrists and ankles were wired together in front of him, and sagged back down. He was sitting in a corner of the same bedroom where he had been knocked out.
"Well, I am impressed," said Avathor, straightening up. He was holding an aerosol tube of some sort, which he pocketed. "You were barely unconscious for ten minutes. Most people would be out all night. I've heard about Tel Shai knights and their healing powers." The Gralic Leech turned to face the bed where Jessica Segal was lying. Her wrists were now tied to the headboard with clothesline. "In a way, I'm glad you showed up, Bane. That was quite a beating you gave me outside, don't think I won't repay you."
The Dire Wolf did not answer immediately. His mind was working furiously, trying to come up with a way to get loose but not seeing how. The wire around his wrists and ankles had evidently been tightened with pliers, it was secure beyond his ability to start loosening. Maybe if he had been left alone for a while, he could find a way to free himself but that was not in the cards. Finally, he said, "I'm surprised we haven't clashed before," just to keep the Leech talking.
"Yes. It seems inevitable that our paths would cross sooner or later." Avathor's blue eyes stood out vividly against the bronze of his skin as he gazed down at Bane. "I have not been back to Androval for years now. When I was in France and Belgium, I heard of you. I thought your reputed speed would be a good trait for me to acquire."
"And what do you want with her?" the Dire Wolf asked.
"I'm not sure," Avathor admitted. "I am drawn to those with gralic abilities. It's my gift. I don't have any innate powers of my own, you understand."
"So I heard." Bane shifted his weight slightly, trying to see if he could his hands near the razor blade hidden in a slit at the top of his boot. Not that he could cut the wires binding him, but at least he would have a weapon of some sort. "I heard you steal the powers of others and use them yourself, but only for a while."
"Yes," said the Leech. "So I can frequently must acquire new abilities. Right now, I have only a deflecting aura and some slight extra strength. Your famous reflexes will be useful." He cocked a thumb at Jessica. "And whatever abilities this woman has, I will soon find out."
"Gralic Leech," Bane muttered, and took a vicious backhand across the face for saying it.
"I don't care for that phrase. We use what gifts we were given." Avathor went over to the bed and knelt. "Watch if you will, Dire Wolf. Few have seen this process." He stretched out a big dark hand and pressed it down high up on Jessica's chest, just below her throat. The woman gasped and arched her back at the touch, but did not awaken.
"Oh, I can feel she has immense gralic force," the Leech laughed. "So rich. Just beneath the surface. This will take a few minutes."
Bane wanted Avathor to ignore him for just a few seconds, because he thought he could manage to get his fingers into a pocket of his jacket where a dazzle grenade was stored. It would blind and deafen an unprepared person for several minutes, perhaps enough time for Bane to knock him down and use the razor blade. It wasn't a plan with much chance of success, but it was all he could come up with. He watched silently and slowly tried to raise his wrists and ankles up to chest level.
Avathor grumbled slightly, as if uncomfortable. He lifted his hand and flexed it. "It's starting to get numb," he said over his shoulder. "This woman's power involves cold in some way." He placed his palm on her again.
It had in fact started to get inexplicably cold in that bedroom. On a muggy August afternoon, the temperature dropped rapidly and Bane realized he could see his own breath. A sudden thrill of hope rose unexpectedly in him. Jessica's powers had not been lost, they were just dormant. He remembered the night ten years earlier when those powers had been awakened in her.
Suddenly, the Gralic Leech snarled and stepped back away from the bed. He was staring down where the woman's hair had turned pure white, her skin lightened to a pale ivory. The heat seemed to be rapidly leaving that room, it was getting cold enough to make Bane shiver.
Jessica's eyes snapped open and the irises were a pale merciless blue. She raised her head to turn those eyes on Avathor almost as she would aim a weapon. Then she saw Bane huddled on the floor. "Captain?"
"Hi, Jessica," he said with relief. "Good to see you back."
She tugged at the suddenly brittle cords binding her and they snapped. Jessica Frost sat up, her face a lovely pale mask as she took in the situation. Avathor took a few steps back in confusion. Watching him suspiciously, she asked, "Captain, what's going on here?"
"He was going to steal your power and mine," Bane told her. "But instead he awakened you."
"Really." The blonde sat up and swung her legs off the bed to stand up. By now it was freezing in that room, to the point where ice crystals were forming on the walls. "Well, perhaps I should thank him."
Avathor yanked the aerosol tube from his pocket and thrust it forward, but before he could send a spray of the knockout gas, the device froze to his hand. He could not trigger it and he could not get it loose. The Gralic Leech spun and took one desperate step toward the door, then stopped short to fall face down with a loud clunk, coated with a layer of frost.
"He's not dead," she said as if regretful. "I think he stole enough of my ability that being frozen will not harm him much." Jessica came over and knelt in front of Bane. "It is good to see you again, captain. I thought my powers were gone, and yet.. deep down, I always felt the chill within." Her glacial stare was unnerving but he had become used to it.
"Good to see you again," he said. "Listen, do you see any pliers or anything to get me loose?"
She glanced around and spotted a pair of pliers on the nightstand, which she brought over and began to use to free him. The temperature in the room slowly began to come back to normal. After a few minutes, she got the wire unwrapped and Bane got clumsily to his feet, rubbing his wrists to get the circulation back.
"How do you feel?" he asked. "Are you the way you used to be?"
Jessica Frost lowered her head and sighed. In an instant, her hair darkened to brown and her skin regained its normal tint. When she raised her face, her eyes were brown again. "I'm okay, Jeremy. But I don't know... I was happy running the shop, I had a few friends I would go to lunch with or catch a movie on a Friday night with. I don't know if I want to give that up again."
"Hey, you don't have to." He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, which was warm again. "Nobody needs to know your powers came back. You don't have to return to the Midnight War."
Jessica grinned, something so rare for her that Bane found himself smiling in return. She pressed her hand over his. "I'm glad. Maybe in a real crisis, I could help you out. It seems I can turn my powers on and off now. But mostly I just want a quiet life. Who knows? Maybe meet someone, have a kid or two? I'm still young."
The Dire Wolf let out a breath. "Whatever makes you happy, my friend. Right now, I need to secure Avathor and his fellow Melgar out on the couch. I guess I'll take them back to Androval. King Holmir usually treats renegade Melgar with either a dungeon cell or a trip to the executioner's block. Either way, they won't be back to bother you."
She glanced around the bedroom. "Captain, I have to say I'm glad we met again. Maybe I will come help you when I'm really needed. We've saved each other's lives more than once."
"That's the funny part," he said. "To think that I came here to rescue YOU."
8/2/2014
9/29/1995
I.
The sword missed him by a good three inches and sank deeply into the wooden beam holding up the roof of the porch. For that next second, the Melgar warrior tugged, trying to get his weapon free and the Dire Wolf moved in with a short hooking punch that almost broke the man's jaw. Tough as Melgarin were, that blow dazed the man and his defenses dropped. Bane drew his fist back to his own armpit and drove it forward with a savage impact that forced the air from the Melgar's lungs with a whoosh. The warrior sagged to a seated position and desperately tried to catch his breath.
Jeremy Bane seized the hilt of the straight sword and yanked it loose from where it had been wedged into the support beam. He glanced around, no one else was in sight. This small summer cottage sat at the end of a dirt driveway and the main road could not be seen through all the bushes and trees. Good. He noticed fresh tire tracks in the dirt next to the cottage, but no sign of the vehicle itself.
The Melgar was recovering, trying to get to his feet. Bane threw the sword far out into the bushes and turned to face the warrior with bare hands. As the Melgar rose, the Dire Wolf whirled on one foot and blasted a reverse crescent kick with the other leg that smacked his heel against the warrior's cheek with a loud crack. The man sagged again and ended sitting up on the porch with his head down.
"Stay put," the Dire Wolf snapped. At six feet and one hundred and seventy pounds, he was much smaller than the bulky Melgar but he was obviously in control of the situation. Bane studied the dazed man suspiciously. The Melgar was not wearing the usual garments of his Race but instead was dressed in ordinary work boots, jeans and a flannel shirt. The short brown beard and roughly cropped hair gave him an outdoorsy look; someone who did not know about the Midnight War might take him for a lumberjack.
Bane stepped over to the open door of the cottage and peered inside. No one was in sight, and his instincts told him the place was empty. Good. He turned back to the Melgar. "Bruldor, isn't it? King Holmir told me you had come to the world in service to Avathor. You don't interest me, it's Avathor I want. Where is he?"
The Melgar had opened bleary dark eyes and glared sullenly at his enemy. "Never will I break my trust," he said. "Do your worst."
The Dire Wolf reached into an inner pocket of his black sport jacket and drew out a flat metal case. Before Bruldor could react, Bane had yanked back the man's sleeve and stabbed the needle of a syringe into the exposed forearm. The Melgar grunted in surprise, tried to rise but was shoved roughly onto his back on the porch.
"This'll take effect in about twenty to thirty seconds," Bane remarked as he carefully replaced the empty hypo to its case and pocketed it. "You'll feel nausea and dizziness. In another minute, your inhibitions will weaken and you will answer any question I ask."
"No! Never!" came the reply, but the voice was already unsteady.
Bane got to one knee, bending over the disoriented mentor. "Your pupils are already dilated. Okay, Bruldor. Let's get this over with. Who else does Avathor have working for him...?"
II.
Half an hour later, the Dire Wolf ran down the main road to where he had left his Mustang under a tree. Bruldor had not been much help. The Melgar had been supposed to wait at the cabin for the next two days until Avathor had returned with some unspecified treasure. Even worse, Bruldor did not know what other henchmen Avathor might have picked up. A search of the cottage turned up only a duffel bag with a change of clothing, some canned food and two short swords.
Disgusted, Bane got into the dark green Mustang and started it up. He had left Bruldor lying on the couch in the living room after injecting the Melgar with a Trom serum that would leave him groggy and weak for the next day or so. This was a way to keep enemy out of the way without permanent damage. Even though Bruldor had immediately tried to decapitate him as soon as they met, Bane did not have it in him to simply execute the helpless man. He had done that once when first starting out in the Midnight War and it had troubled him ever since.
If he had teammates working with him, one would have stayed at the cottage while the rest searched. But the KDF had been disbanded after that hellish night in Necropolis, and Bane's tentative thoughts about establishing a new team were still just in the planning stages. He headed back toward Clermont, where he had been going in the first place before the report of Avathor had reached him. He had tangled with Avathor once before with inconclusive results and had been hoping to settle things.
As he entered Clermont, Bane regarded the village sourly. He had never been in Vermont before and wasn't comfortable with the feel of small towns. All the neat little lawns and freshly painted white houses, the church at one end of the town and the small supermarket at the other.. it seemed too pristine and perfect to suit him. He was a big city boy, born and raised in Manhattan, and Clermont seemed like something from a Norman Rockwell painting to him. The fact that it was a sunny summer afternoon only added to the effect. Bane found a parking spot on the main street, which was inevitably called Main Street, and slipped a quarter into the meter.
Trotting quickly down the sidewalk, he found what he was looking for... a picture window with YESTERDAY'S TREASURES written in royal blue script and a display of old clothing beneath it. He felt a slight twinge of guilt that he had never come out here to visit her. The Dire Wolf opened the door, which set a bell tinkling, and stepped inside. The store had racks of vintage coats and dresses on pipe iron hangers, cases of households items, old toys and battered hardcover books. There was no one behind the counter on which a cash register sat.
"Jessica?" he called. "Hello?" Bane scowled and stepped through a door behind the counter. Here was a small bathroom, with just a toilet and sink, and another door which stood half-open. Outside was a parking lot for the credit union which was next door to this building. Three cars were parked in spaces, with no one in them.
The Dire Wolf spun on his heel and rushed through the store back out onto the sidewalk, jumping into his Mustang and starting it up. He made an illegal U-turn on Main Street, tore through a red light and sped back the way he had come well over the speed limit. There were no local cops in sight. Bane drove back along Route 312 in a cold rage at being too late. He came to the dirt road which had no sign and swung into it. There was the cottage. Standing in front of it was a black Jeep Cherokee. A faint grim smile broke onto the Dire Wolf's face as he saw that. Drawing his dart gun, he leaped from his car and raced across the tiny front yard just as a bronze giant stepped out onto the porch.
III.
There was no mistaking the Gralic Leech, who was a renegade Melgar running wild in the world of Humans. Several inches over six feet in height and built like a wrestler, Avathor had dark skin, sharp blue eyes and ash blond hair with a pronounced widow's peak. The contrast between hair and skin was striking. He was wearing riding boots, black trousers and a white silk shirt open almost to the waist. As he saw Bane, Avathor scowled and shouted, "I should have known!"
Even as the Leech spoke, Bane fired three of the anesthetic darts. The CO2 cartridges made a barely audible cough. Avathor had held up his open hand and a visible shimmer showed as the three darts stopped short and dropped to the porch with clunks.
Bane holstered the dart gun. That was the problem he had expected when dealing with this guy. Avathor was called the Leech because he was able to siphon off gralic abilities from other people and use them himself. The stolen powers wore off in time, though, and he was forced to replace them. As a result, you could never tell in advance just what Avathor would be able to do. Right now, Bane realized, he had some sort of deflecting field he could put up to defend himself.
The big Melgar lowered his hand and said, "Wait. There is nothing to gain by common brawling, Dire Wolf. I know you by reputation. Tell me what you want and we may come to an understanding."
"No deals between us!" Bane snapped. "You abducted my friend." He started moving toward the porch with a steady determined tread, watching Avathor intently.
The Gralic Leech stepped down to meet the Dire Wolf, fists clenched down by his sides. "Oh, very well. Be that way." As he came within reach, Avathor lunged like a fencer and threw a quick left jab that Bane deflected with an outer block. Instantly, Bane flashed out a backfist but it stopped before connecting as if he had struck something rubbery in the way. The Dire Wolf snapped out his other fist but he had lost a valuable split-second and Avathor's big open hand slapped against the side of his face with a thump. Bane rode with the blow, stepping away from it and blasting a high side kick that should have cracked Avathor's sternum. Instead, his boot was deflected away by that same invisible barrier and again he was left open just long enough for the Leech to backhand him hard across the face. No serious harm was done, but Bane drew back a few paces.
"Hah! You cannot harm me but I can strike you as I please," Avathor gloated. "Come, try again."
"I notice you can still see and hear," was Bane's reply. He unhooked a small metal ovoid from the back of his belt and tossed it up in the air between them, then opened his mouth wide and cupped his hand over his ears, closing his eyes and turning his head away. Before Avathor could react, the dazzle grenade detonated with an intolerable white glare and a deep booming crack louder than thunder. The Gralic Leech staggered helplessly, dazed by the noise and seeing nothing but white after-image swirling before his eyes. At once, Bane was at him with a flurry of alternating left-right body blows that drummed against Avathor's ribs. Stunned and unable to breath, the Gralic Leech lowered his defenses and the Dire Wolf nailed him with a left hook that spun the big Melgar halfway around. As his opponent fell to the dirt, Bane exhaled sharply and flexed his hands. It had been like hitting a side of beef.
Bane took a pair of handcuffs from his belt and fastened Avathor's right wrist to left ankle, then left him lying there. "I'll deal with you in a minute," he told the unconscious Melgar. Rubbing his hands to keep them from getting stiff, the Dire Wolf hopped up to the porch and peered into the cottage. There was Bruldor, still snoring on the couch and out from the enervation serum. Bane saw the half-open door of the bedroom and went in. Lying face up on the double bed was a slim brunette in her early thirties, dressed in white slacks and a dark blue blouse. Her light brown hair was spread out under her head.
It had not been that many years since he had last seen Jessica Segal, and she had not changed visibly. He was relieved to see she was fully dressed, since Avathor had a reputation for molesting prisoners. Bane took her pulse and listened to her breathing, both seemed strong. He bent over and sniffed over her face but couldn't smell any chemicals that might have been used to knock her out.
The Dire Wolf stood by the bed, remembering when he had first met this woman more than a decade earlier. That desperate battle with Seth Petrov and with the Russian warlock Rodchenko who had unwittingly trggered Jessica Segal's innate gralic abilities. She had become an emotionless presence with white hair and pale skin, an ice goddess who could project cold that froze solid anything within her line of sight. For a few years, she had called herself Jessica Frost and had served well as one of his Tel Shai knights.
Then, over only a few days, her freezing powers faded and her coloring returned to normal. Her emotions also restored themselves. Bane had been glad to see this, even though it cost him a powerful ally, because it meant she had healed. Jessica had kept saved her KDF stipend, leaving her with more than enough to open a small antique store here in her home town. Cindy had come to visit her twice, and then they had all drifted apart.
Now she was in danger again. How had Avathor known about her, or where to find her? Had he simply sensed her latent gralic abilities, like a predator smelling prey? Bane wondered if he should try to roust Jessica. He shook her gently and said, "Hey. Wake up. Jessica?" He listed closely to hear her breathing.
In a split-second, he caught movement in the doorway and wheeled around just as a burst of cloudy vapor sprayed right in his face. For once, Bane was not quite quick enough and took in a lungful. Whatever the gas was, it was potent. He was blacking out before he hit the floor.
IV.
Bane snapped back to full awareness, opening his eyes to see Avathor leering down at him. The Dire Wolf tried to get up, found his wrists and ankles were wired together in front of him, and sagged back down. He was sitting in a corner of the same bedroom where he had been knocked out.
"Well, I am impressed," said Avathor, straightening up. He was holding an aerosol tube of some sort, which he pocketed. "You were barely unconscious for ten minutes. Most people would be out all night. I've heard about Tel Shai knights and their healing powers." The Gralic Leech turned to face the bed where Jessica Segal was lying. Her wrists were now tied to the headboard with clothesline. "In a way, I'm glad you showed up, Bane. That was quite a beating you gave me outside, don't think I won't repay you."
The Dire Wolf did not answer immediately. His mind was working furiously, trying to come up with a way to get loose but not seeing how. The wire around his wrists and ankles had evidently been tightened with pliers, it was secure beyond his ability to start loosening. Maybe if he had been left alone for a while, he could find a way to free himself but that was not in the cards. Finally, he said, "I'm surprised we haven't clashed before," just to keep the Leech talking.
"Yes. It seems inevitable that our paths would cross sooner or later." Avathor's blue eyes stood out vividly against the bronze of his skin as he gazed down at Bane. "I have not been back to Androval for years now. When I was in France and Belgium, I heard of you. I thought your reputed speed would be a good trait for me to acquire."
"And what do you want with her?" the Dire Wolf asked.
"I'm not sure," Avathor admitted. "I am drawn to those with gralic abilities. It's my gift. I don't have any innate powers of my own, you understand."
"So I heard." Bane shifted his weight slightly, trying to see if he could his hands near the razor blade hidden in a slit at the top of his boot. Not that he could cut the wires binding him, but at least he would have a weapon of some sort. "I heard you steal the powers of others and use them yourself, but only for a while."
"Yes," said the Leech. "So I can frequently must acquire new abilities. Right now, I have only a deflecting aura and some slight extra strength. Your famous reflexes will be useful." He cocked a thumb at Jessica. "And whatever abilities this woman has, I will soon find out."
"Gralic Leech," Bane muttered, and took a vicious backhand across the face for saying it.
"I don't care for that phrase. We use what gifts we were given." Avathor went over to the bed and knelt. "Watch if you will, Dire Wolf. Few have seen this process." He stretched out a big dark hand and pressed it down high up on Jessica's chest, just below her throat. The woman gasped and arched her back at the touch, but did not awaken.
"Oh, I can feel she has immense gralic force," the Leech laughed. "So rich. Just beneath the surface. This will take a few minutes."
Bane wanted Avathor to ignore him for just a few seconds, because he thought he could manage to get his fingers into a pocket of his jacket where a dazzle grenade was stored. It would blind and deafen an unprepared person for several minutes, perhaps enough time for Bane to knock him down and use the razor blade. It wasn't a plan with much chance of success, but it was all he could come up with. He watched silently and slowly tried to raise his wrists and ankles up to chest level.
Avathor grumbled slightly, as if uncomfortable. He lifted his hand and flexed it. "It's starting to get numb," he said over his shoulder. "This woman's power involves cold in some way." He placed his palm on her again.
It had in fact started to get inexplicably cold in that bedroom. On a muggy August afternoon, the temperature dropped rapidly and Bane realized he could see his own breath. A sudden thrill of hope rose unexpectedly in him. Jessica's powers had not been lost, they were just dormant. He remembered the night ten years earlier when those powers had been awakened in her.
Suddenly, the Gralic Leech snarled and stepped back away from the bed. He was staring down where the woman's hair had turned pure white, her skin lightened to a pale ivory. The heat seemed to be rapidly leaving that room, it was getting cold enough to make Bane shiver.
Jessica's eyes snapped open and the irises were a pale merciless blue. She raised her head to turn those eyes on Avathor almost as she would aim a weapon. Then she saw Bane huddled on the floor. "Captain?"
"Hi, Jessica," he said with relief. "Good to see you back."
She tugged at the suddenly brittle cords binding her and they snapped. Jessica Frost sat up, her face a lovely pale mask as she took in the situation. Avathor took a few steps back in confusion. Watching him suspiciously, she asked, "Captain, what's going on here?"
"He was going to steal your power and mine," Bane told her. "But instead he awakened you."
"Really." The blonde sat up and swung her legs off the bed to stand up. By now it was freezing in that room, to the point where ice crystals were forming on the walls. "Well, perhaps I should thank him."
Avathor yanked the aerosol tube from his pocket and thrust it forward, but before he could send a spray of the knockout gas, the device froze to his hand. He could not trigger it and he could not get it loose. The Gralic Leech spun and took one desperate step toward the door, then stopped short to fall face down with a loud clunk, coated with a layer of frost.
"He's not dead," she said as if regretful. "I think he stole enough of my ability that being frozen will not harm him much." Jessica came over and knelt in front of Bane. "It is good to see you again, captain. I thought my powers were gone, and yet.. deep down, I always felt the chill within." Her glacial stare was unnerving but he had become used to it.
"Good to see you again," he said. "Listen, do you see any pliers or anything to get me loose?"
She glanced around and spotted a pair of pliers on the nightstand, which she brought over and began to use to free him. The temperature in the room slowly began to come back to normal. After a few minutes, she got the wire unwrapped and Bane got clumsily to his feet, rubbing his wrists to get the circulation back.
"How do you feel?" he asked. "Are you the way you used to be?"
Jessica Frost lowered her head and sighed. In an instant, her hair darkened to brown and her skin regained its normal tint. When she raised her face, her eyes were brown again. "I'm okay, Jeremy. But I don't know... I was happy running the shop, I had a few friends I would go to lunch with or catch a movie on a Friday night with. I don't know if I want to give that up again."
"Hey, you don't have to." He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, which was warm again. "Nobody needs to know your powers came back. You don't have to return to the Midnight War."
Jessica grinned, something so rare for her that Bane found himself smiling in return. She pressed her hand over his. "I'm glad. Maybe in a real crisis, I could help you out. It seems I can turn my powers on and off now. But mostly I just want a quiet life. Who knows? Maybe meet someone, have a kid or two? I'm still young."
The Dire Wolf let out a breath. "Whatever makes you happy, my friend. Right now, I need to secure Avathor and his fellow Melgar out on the couch. I guess I'll take them back to Androval. King Holmir usually treats renegade Melgar with either a dungeon cell or a trip to the executioner's block. Either way, they won't be back to bother you."
She glanced around the bedroom. "Captain, I have to say I'm glad we met again. Maybe I will come help you when I'm really needed. We've saved each other's lives more than once."
"That's the funny part," he said. "To think that I came here to rescue YOU."
8/2/2014
