11.

UNSEEN.

The weeks that followed the arrival of the Goddess and her crew at Watarrka were eventful to say the least.

Priority number one, to return Ray's research to the ICA without suspicion, was executed without a hitch.

Rhun delivered the suitcase to Gatwick airport, England, and saw it placed on the conveyor belt of a flight bound for Mexico City. The luggage was signed in under an old, assumed identity that the ICA had supplied Ray with for a mission some years before. In the guise of an old man, Rhun waited around to witness the pandemonium erupt.

Inside fifteen minutes, two unmarked black limousines sped to a stop in front of the airport. A band of UN officials invaded the management office and control room, flashing identification papers as they demanded that the 2 p.m. flight to Mexico be delayed for reasons of international security.

The suitcase was recovered, yet the Agency representatives seemed none too happy to discover that its owner continued to elude them. Airport security and the local police were called in to assist with the search.

Of course, they came up empty-handed.

The plan to make contact with John Pearce and his family proved not so easy.

Tory and Rhiannon decided to locate them via thought projection, only to then manifest themselves in the middle of a forest somewhere in England.

Their first conclusion was that perhaps the Otherworldly energies emanating from the earth around the Watarrka base were playing havoc with their intent.

Yet Rhun had experienced no such trouble when willing himself to the airport just one day earlier? Before leaping to any conclusions they waited a couple of days, then attempted contact again. When Rhiannon, Rhun and Tory found themselves again in the forest, they had to figure it was no accident.

'Same place,' Rhun supposed, as he'd not escorted his mother and sister last time out.

'Yep!' Rhiannon was exasperated, pointing to a fallen oak that she recognised.

Rhun placed a hand on the healthy old tree beside him, and began to smile broadly as he discovered their whereabouts. 'Mother, John Pearce was Sir Rhys once - right?'

'You know it.' She thought the question pointless and continued her search of the area.

'Well, Rhys' immortal or "Chosen" incarnation was Robin of Loxley and we're standing in the middle of Sherwood forest!' He gave a chuckle, thinking it ironic.

Tory was not laughing, however. 'How do you know?'

'The tree told me.' He waved a finger in its direction.

'Not where we are!' Tory scolded; he knew well enough what she meant.

'Oh, about Robin you mean?' He was having second thoughts about mentioning it. 'A mutual friend told me.'

Tory's hands were perched on her hips as she considered the response. 'In other words, your father.'

Rhun raised both brows, nodding and shrugging in a non-committal fashion, when, rather fortunately, his mother's attention was diverted to the woodland.

'What was that?' She got them to strain their ears for any sound out of the ordinary. 'John!' she called, suddenly racing off through the trees.

'Did you hear anything?' Rhun inquired of his sister as they set off in pursuit.

'No.' Rhiannon shook her head in the negative.

'You?'

'No,' he stressed, gaining speed to chase after his mother.

'Oh Goddess, please!' Tory wailed, as she fell to her knees in the scrub ahead of them.

'Mother?' Rhiannon screeched to a halt as she spied the blueish hand that sprang from the soil, still wearing the wedding rings belonging to Jennifer Pearce. 'Maybe it's just a ploy to make us think they're dead.' She refused to believe their friends had met with such an end.

'No. There's no mistake.' Tory's mood darkened as she raised herself upright.

'Perhaps it is fate that this should be his final resting place.' Rhun quietly offered his view.

Tory squeezed her eyelids together, her hands clenching into fists. 'I must not hate, I must not hate,'

she repeated to instill it in her mind. 'First Miles, and now John, Jenny and Nicholas ... four of the people I hold dearest in this world. Why?'

Rhiannon held her mother as she was reduced to tears, all the while the words of Nostradamus running though her mind. The Antichrist quickly annihilates three.

Perhaps it had no bearing on this instance, but she couldn't get the damn sentence out of her head. 'We're still not one hundred percent certain what has happened here.'

'Are you suggesting we exhume them?' Tory was completely repulsed by the notion.

'Mother. She's right, we have no choice.' Rhun seconded Rhiannon's view. 'These graves are far too shallow to be restful in any case.' Tory stared back at him, her face drained of colour, and Rhun understood she couldn't cope with taking part in such a task.

'Come on.' He helped Rhiannon support her. 'We'll see you home, then I'll come back later with Brian and Teo.'

Tory looked back to the protruding remains, her jaw tensing as she did. 'Their deaths must not go unanswered.'

'Nor will they.' Rhun's tone suggested that she could leave the matter in his hands.

The dig turned up two bodies, those of John and Jenny.

Nicholas was not found with his parents as initially feared, and locating him became the immediate concern.

Rhun left Teo and Brian with the grievous chore of re-burying their good friends, and reported back to those waiting at Watarrka.

The news seemed to energise everybody's drained spirits.

As his mother assumed her outrageous guise to seek out the whereabouts of their lost crewmate, Rhun outwardly changed his appearance to escort her. His long dark hair retracted into his head until it was only one centimetre long, and turned fair. His eyes changed to blue, and his attire was as outrageous as his mother's, so that they might be mistaken for members of the same gang.

Then joining hands, the pair concentrated their energies on finding the lost lad.

Nicholas was seated in the centre of an empty chamber.

As his head was bowed low, they could not readily discern whether he was conscious or not. Big steel braces clasped around his chest, stomach, arms and ankles held his form to a bulky metal chair. If he wasn't dead, he certainly wasn't far from it.

'Nicky,' Tory whispered, as she moved to approach.

Upon hearing her voice, Nick's head shot up.

Although he could not see her through his swollen eyes, he knew who had come for him. 'No, leave!' he implored her. 'He seeks to test the Goddess, see what she is capable -'

Nicholas' outburst was cut short by an electric current coursing through his body, and he screamed himself to tears enduring the agony.

'That's quite enough from you.' A voice came over the intercom and reverberated around the room. 'I wouldn't,' the voice warned as Tory moved to aid her young friend. 'Go anywhere near him and the next charge will be fatal.'

Tory refrained from movement or speech. Hatred had such a grip on her being, its blinding effects took a moment to abate. Can you get him out of here from where you are? she bethought Rhun without so much as a glance in his direction.

No such luck. But if you can get between the camera and Nick, that should hide me from its vision. Then, perhaps I could manifest behind his chair and get him out.

Tory perused the ceiling, spotting the camera in question. 'Are we afraid to make such threats in person?' She approached the camera to try and monopolise their voyeur's attention.

'Regretfully, business prevents me from being present to address you in person.' The voice paused.

'Whoever you are.'

Tory hazarded a glance in Rhun's direction to find him gone. 'I'm your worst nightmare, if you do not desist in your attack on the kin of Tory Alexander.

Whoever you are,' she said icily in conclusion.

The camera swung back suddenly to note Rhun's disappearance. The sound of crackling electricity startled Tory into an about-face, where she found an empty chair. She breathed a deep sigh of relief, no longer subject to the whim's of her foe. 'Just what the hell is your problem?'

'No problem, just a few questions ... like, how it is that you came to be in an electronically-locked room to which I alone know the entry code? And how would you explain the apparent disappearance of my hostage?' He chuckled like a man well-satisfied. 'No great loss, I'll grant, but you know, I never would have believed it if I hadn't seen it for myself.'

Tory wanted to cringe, recalling what her father had told her.

Most could not perform the feats you do, as they consider such metamorphosis impossible. You, however, do not, as you have seen it done.

Shit. She decided she should get out of there before she made matters worse. 'Look, if you need spiritual counseling, I'd suggest an exorcist.' She made for directly beneath the camera, where she was out of its line of vision.

'Very amusing ... I'm sure. Let's see how much of that wit you have left tomorrow.'

She was not even tempted to query his meaning, though his mocking laughter taunted her well into the ethers of her flight.

'That's it!' Tory announced, manifesting in the communications room at Watarrka where the rest of her team were attending to Nick's injuries. 'I've had enough of being on the defensive. Rhiannon.'

Her daughter raised herself from Nicholas' side, wiping the tears of sympathy from her face. 'Yes?'

'I want you to go to Oxfordshire and bring your Aunt Rose here.' Tory placed a hand on her shoulder to give Rhiannon strength. 'We're not leaving anybody in the outside world who can be traced to us.'

Rhiannon seconded her reasoning with a nod, and was gone.

'How is he?' Tory asked, as Naomi cleaned the wounds on her patient's face.

'I'm not qualified for this, Tory. He needs a doctor.'

'No,' Rhun considered, 'he needs a healer. Take him to my mother's chamber. I'll join you there presently.'

'If you're going for Cadfan ...' Tory caught him by the arm. 'Tell him nothing. The less he knows -'

'I am with you,' he stated surely.

Sometimes Tory forgot Rhun was not a reckless juvenile any longer. 'I didn't mean -'

'I know.' Rhun cut her short with a wave of his hand. 'Just ... stay close to Gawain, your healing energies will keep him alive.' As his mother went to correct him, Rhun added with a grin, 'I mean, Nicholas.'

'Sorry.' She realised she was doing it again. 'You as an adult takes a bit of getting used to.'

'Tell me about it.' He held her gaze until he'd vanished.

Walter Cadfan was leading a large group of people through a guided meditation when Rhun unexpectedly appeared in the corner of the room. Fortunately, the healer was the only person present who had his eyes open. He wound up his calming tuition, and quietly stood to make his way towards his visitor, instructing his class to remain as they were. With the flick of a switch, gentle music began to filter quietly over the gathering and Cadfan motioned Rhun towards the door.

Directly across the hallway was the healer's large office and herbarium, where they would not be disturbed.

'Very impressive.' Rhun followed Cadfan inside, admiring the shelves stocked with medicines, and spying many a long-extinct cure thereon.

'I knew you, of all people, would appreciate my collection, Grandfather.' Walter was most excited by his visit.

'Cadfan, must you call me that when you insist on appearing twice my age?'

'Well, it adds to my crediblity. Besides I am, well and truly, twice your age.'

For although Rhun had been time travelling for a couple of hundred years or more, Cadfan had taken the old-fashioned route down through the ages to the twentieth century from his birthplace late in the seventh.

'If only I'd possessed some of your talent,' Walter sighed.

'Well, actually, I'm needing your talents,' Rhun confessed, to Cadfan's obvious delight. 'A dear friend of mine has -'

'No, no, don't tell me.' The healer closed his eyes to concentrate. 'Ah!' He was enlightened as to the requirements for the task, and began scampering around collecting salves and potions to take with them. 'We must hurry.' Cadfan threw a few last bits and pieces into a bag, then held out his hand ready to be transported.

After two hours of a 'hands on' healing session, Nick was massaged with cooling ointment and fed a warm herbal brew to remedy the damage done to him on the inside.

Cadfan did not question how his patient had come to be in such a state, nor did he inquire as to his whereabouts. Perhaps he simply assumed both topics would be taboo, but Tory thought it more likely that he already knew some of the answers.

Walter was very accomplished at his chosen craft.

Present immortal company excluded, Tory had never seen such a miraculous recovery. A lot of Nick's swelling and bruising had disappeared within the first half hour of the consultation.

'You'd best beware,' Tory whispered to Cadfan, watching their patient drift off into a peaceful slumber.

'They'll be hailing you as the next Messiah.'