Blake's Trip Around the World

Croyd Layton stood in the cold Boston air, smoking a cigarette. He had worked for the Diana Foundation for a few months now, and this was the dullest moment he could remember in that time. He didn't know if that was good or bad.

Croyd worked in Boston, but often traveled. The Foundation had interests all over the world. Sometimes they needed a man on the scene to find out what was going. That led to some precarious situations. It was still better than jail.

A few months earlier, a man in a knight's armor had broken into the chapterhouse, and taken some valuable books. The stolen books had never been recovered, but the knight had been seen around town. Jerry Adama had asked Croyd to track the thief down.

Croyd admitted that he had not come close to finding out whom the thief was. He decided to ask for help. A psychic had come to the Foundation's attention, and reports indicated he was genuine. The ex-convict had seen too many things to dismiss the man out of hand.

Lazarus Tremaine had been slightly easier to find. A drifter on a motorcycle could lose himself anywhere, but Tremaine called a town named Two Rivers every Friday, and the local law had recommended him to people in need before. This connection had surfaced in the routine day to day stuff that the chapterhouses shared. Croyd had called the sheriff, and she had agreed to pass on the word to her contact.

Layton had the impression they weren't friends, or even that she liked this Tremaine at all.

He had heard that same tone of voice when people talked to him sometimes.

Croyd heard the clip-clopping of hooves on the street. He shook his head, and the sound became that of a motorcycle roaring through the night. A light appeared from around the corner, then suddenly the iron horse and rider coasted to a stop in front of him. He hid his startlement. It was like the bike had appeared out of nowhere between the time he saw the light until the rider pulled to a stop.

"Tremaine?," Layton said, puffing on his cigarette.

"Sheriff Savage said you wanted to meet with me," the medium said, his face shaded by the Stetson he wore. Blue eyes glittered from within the shadow. "She said that you lost something."

"A guy in a metal suit broke in where I work and took some books a couple of months ago," said Layton. "I have been trying to get them back without any luck. A couple of people heard about you, and passed it on to me. So I called since I had nothing better to do."

"I met a man with a metal suit about that time," said Tremaine. "He wasn't in his right senses. He had been beguiled by a woman. She had a grudge against someone named Barton. She wanted to pay him back."

Croyd couldn't believe his luck. How many guys were out there in a tin can? They had to be one and the same. Barton also struck a chord. He had helped bury the man in England. A woman who wanted revenge on Red Barton could only be one person.

Maybe they should talk to an expert on King Arthur, and his half sister Morgana.

Adam Blake looked out on the Church Hill streets that surrounded his block of buildings. He had built a base to pursue his calling. Time had flown for him thanks to the cases he had closed since he had arrived.

Eventually he would have to close up shop. He didn't know when that would happen. Living in the past meant living with the uncertainty that he would be recalled to his own time. These outposts he built would be there for him in case he had to return.

Blake put aside his thoughts. He had signed on for this duty. Dwelling on it wouldn't make the assignment end sooner. He needed a case, something to do. Things had been relatively quiet since Cap Carrington's wedding. Maybe he could start looking at cases Nightmare and the police hadn't solved yet.

A little poaching to help the wheels of justice might snap him out of the doldrums.

A tone let Blake know someone was calling. He descended from the roof, hoping that the potential client had something that would be interesting. The man of tomorrow reached the ringing phone before the fifth ring. He practically snatched it up.

"Blake here," said the mystery man.

"This is Croyd Layton," said the voice on the other end. "I've found out something, and I need a hand."

"Where are you?," said Blake. "We will meet."

"I'm in Boston, heading for the airport," said Layton. "The crypt woman is still alive."

"Are you sure about that?," Blake asked, already envisioning the type of catastrophe that could happen in the near future. "I thought Barton had taken her magic inside himself."

"I got an unimpeachable source that she is alive and wandering loose," said Layton.

"I will meet you at Church Hill Airport," said Blake. "When will your plane arrive?"

"It'll probably be a couple of hours," said Layton. "We don't know where she is, but I have somebody who can help us find her."

"I will meet you at the airport," said Blake, hanging up the phone. He picked up the receiver and began making calls of his own. His associates would have to be notified and moved into position so he could call on their help if he needed them.

Morgana Le Fay was not a foe to be taken by half measures, no matter what her personal power was at the moment. That could change rapidly with the right techniques. It sounded as if she had already run into the Diana Foundation and gained something she could use.

She had to be stopped before she became more of a menace than she already was.

Morgana Le Fay stood at a bus stop, watching the light traffic while she waited. This particular spot had called her after her disastrous attempt to bolster her personal power and use that academic as a knight. Still she had gained some precious knowledge when her once servant had broken into the Diana Foundation's house.

She owed that organization some pain. They helped track down her tomb. They provided Sir Tempus the means to defeat her guardian. One of their number stole most of her power with knowledge they had secured from around the world.

Being locked in her crypt was too good for Red Barton.

Morgana heard the bus before she saw it. She glanced down at her dress and jacket, made sure the small hat she had purchased still rested on her head. All of these buttons and hooks were far cries from the simple dress she had worn centuries ago. Avoiding attention required it, and it had been simple enough to acquire the garments.

She hadn't even had to use more than just a smidgen of her current level of power to get the money to buy the things. Mesmerism worked well for the low grade needs she had at the moment. Later she would have to use real power on the stream she felt drifting closer to the spot she had traced down.

This would be the second time she tried to capture the power in the Earth to increase her own power. Then she could use it any way she wanted if her spell succeeded. The resources the stolen books provided would help her make the circle. Human sacrifice would transfer the output of magic to her.

She boarded the bus, nodding to the driver as she deposited her fare. Riding the bus did two things for her. First it allowed her to trace the neighborhood to better to use her magic with the least draining effect on her. Second it killed time by showing her the city while she waited for the right moment to strike.

She had survived years by watching and waiting for the one weak moment to strike. That was how she had pulled down Camelot. That was how she planned to pull down this modern world. Tempus would try to stop her. Perhaps those others from that society would try also.

First they had to find her. She wished them luck doing that.

Croyd Layton and Lazarus Tremaine walked through the terminal of the Church Hill Airport. The Diana Foundation had arranged their flight from Boston. Other travelers avoided them as they moved to the front of the place.

They didn't have the look of the casual travelers that moved around them.

Adam Blake appeared just inside the front door. He moved with a machine grace that sliced through any crowd without touching anybody to do it. His face's poker steadiness was betrayed by the intent of his metallic green eyes. A gold pin of an hour glass adorned his black suit.

"That's Blake," said Layton. "I don't see any of his friends with him."

"Is that important?," asked Tremaine, Stetson hiding his blue eyes in shadow.

"It could be anything," said Layton. "I think he's already trying to figure out how to deal with Le Fay, and put his men on it."

"Trying to get ahead of her denotes confidence in his abilities," said Tremaine. "It also means he is used to dealing with things most people couldn't explain. That works in our favor."

"This guy can handle it," said Layton. "You can take that to the bank."

Tremaine nodded. He didn't tell Layton that he could see the conflicting lines revolving around the man in black as they approached him. Different lines indicated lifetimes of experience. That could mean anything, but was something that the medium associated with the elderly, and well traveled.

"Adam Blake," said Layton. "This is Lazarus Tremaine. The Foundation has people keeping their eyes open for Le Fay. Obviously we don't think this is going to be effective tracking her down."

"I understand," said Blake. "I have put out feelers on my own. Something will turn up sooner or later."

"So you do have a game plan?," said Layton.

The three men started across the concourse, Blake leading slightly. His bland face hid any personal thought as effectively as a mask. He held the door for the men from Boston, before letting himself out.

"Not really," said Blake. "I have some thoughts and I asked Mr. Twitchell and Mr. Morrigan to look into for me while I work on other courses of action."

"Thoughts?," said Layton. "You sent them to check on Barton's tomb."

"I have some thoughts about it," admitted Blake. He led the way to the plain car he had driven from his headquarters. He opened the trunk for the others' bags. "Nothing really useful to us at the moment."

Layton seemed nonplussed by the mystery man, but Tremaine merely smiled as he placed his saddle bag in the trunk, beside Layton's brown satchel. The lid slammed down on the luggage.

"The first step is to do some research," said Blake, getting behind the wheel. "Based on her encounter with Tremaine earlier, obviously she wants some measure of her old abilities back."

"She could be chasing the nexus point but how would she know where to go," said Tremaine.

"My thoughts exactly," said Blake.

Culver Morrigan lit a cigarette as he watched the mound ahead of him. Earlier that year, he and the rest of Blake's Seven had buried a man named Red Barton in a tomb under that mound. Now he was back to check for anything strange going on.

Morrigan puffed on his cigarette as he leaned against a tree not far from where they had sealed the place up behind them. Things had been hectic enough to know that they could have left some loose ends. That thing with all the scales was one such item.

Morrigan remembered a time when everything was simple. You found a job, you heisted the stuff, you paid out your take. Now some days were like a monster movie.

"How's it going, Cully?," asked Twitch Twitchell as he sauntered up the path. He vibrated with nervous energy as he moved. He had been a stoolie and pool hustler before being drafted into Blake's group.

"If that thing breaks out of there, you'll see my dust before you hear me tell you to beat it," said Morrigan, the rictus in his face forming an evil grin.

"Nasty beast," said Twitch, nodding at the memory. "Maybe this will be a vacation while the boss does the heavy lifting for once."

"Don't kid yourself," said Morrigan. "Blake handed this to us because he thinks something is about to pop. That's why I asked Tank and Cap to get us some hardware to handle that Frankenstein."

Cap Carrington ran a delivery service with his friend, Tank Messer. Blake paid them to fly his group around the world on short notice. They joined in the adventuring because that was something they were born to do.

"At least his wife let him get out of the house to help us," said Twitch. "Have you seen Tank fly a plane?"

A boom reached two men where they were talking. A pistol appeared in Morrigan's hand as he stepped closer. He knew it wouldn't do anything against Morgana Le Fay's guardian, but he might be able to use it as a distraction.

"Better tell Cap to hurry up," said the former hijacker. "I'll try to slow it down."

"Better you than me, brother," said Twitchell, running toward the village. He held a .38 in his hand, but wasn't the dedicated gun man his associate was.

Morrigan nodded as he moved toward the sound of breaking rock. His other pistol rested in his other hand. He knew this was going to happen. It was his luck after all. The same luck had marred his face, and made him a wanted man by the Church Hill underworld.

Morrigan reached the side of the tomb as a block slid out of place. His playmate was coming out like he had thought. This could be the worse development he had faced in a while. He hoped he wasn't making a lethal mistake trying to take Nebiros on by himself.

The scaly face with the wide fangy mouth appeared as Popeye arms and hands pushed more of the wall away with a hideous strength. Yellow orbs locked on the grinning gun man with something like delight in its inhuman expression. It pushed through the rest of the way, shrugging stone aside with its slim body.

Cully raised one pistol and fired as calm as he could.

Adam Blake spread a map of the United States on a table in his work space. He placed holders on the corners to keep it flat as he ran a finger on it. His two visitors watched silently as he thought. The esoteric was the reason the Foundation had decided to ask the mystery man for help in the first place. The members were capable in their own right, but Blake bordered on the superhuman in his deductive capability.

"This is Boston," Blake said, pulling a map of the city out and spreading it over the other map. "Do you remember which way Morgana had lined up her circle, Mr. Tremaine?"

"The circle was in this intersection," said Tremaine, pointing at two cross streets. "It was gathering energy down both streets. The current seemed stronger from east to west, but I didn't notice any effort for it to escape."

Blake frowned, drawing two lines on the map through the indicated area. He examined the line of travel, then checked it against the map of the country. A small wedge appeared on the country map with two moves of his hand.

"I do not think she will take the line toward the ocean," Blake said. "I think she will take a stand at another cross point to help summon and control whatever powers she hopes to unleash."

"That's still a lot of turf to cover," said Croyd. "There's no telling if she'll stick to the peaceful side. How do we narrow this down?"

"The lines that Morgana wants to use run in fairly straight lines before simply petering out," said Blake. "We just have to figure where along this line she would stop before thinking it is a finite search."

"She'll need to use another cross path to build on the potential she is trying to harvest," said Tremaine. "Cross roads are known for that."

"That's still a lot of guess work," said Layton. "Where's the proof?"

"The problem is we cannot investigate every crossroads to stop her from trying the spell," said Blake. "We need to narrow things down a bit."

"I can ask the Foundation to place spotters at the local areas where you think the spell will work," said Layton. "The manpower will help us if she decides to do what you people say she will do."

"That won't be necessary," said Tremaine. "This has given me an idea we can use to find her. We need to get back to Boston."

"I have a plane at Church Hill International," said Blake. "I will take you back to your home city."

"We'll need to move fast," said Tremaine. "She might have already located the perfect place to use. If we can get there, maybe we can stop her from trying to do her thing."

"We might already be too late," said Layton. "She might have moved on across the country. This line is huge."

"It is an approximation," said Blake. "There is no real way to tell how long a line really is unless we can walk it with a dowser."

"I'll know," said Tremaine. "My ability will tell us if she is trying to access the power, maybe where she is trying to bind it to her."

"Then we should get started looking," said Blake, folding up the maps. He tucked the paper in his breast pocket.

Cully Morrigan watched bullets bounce off the scaly hide of Nebiros and wished he had a bazooka. There was no way he was going to stop that behemoth with the two .45s he had. He spotted movement behind the escaping demon, a ripple in the air. He couldn't see what it was before it faded.

Then that thing was running past him like a deer. It spared him a glance, but kept moving on its weird legs. One slash of its claws would have put him in a world of hurt. Instead it headed into the countryside, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Cully gritted his grinning teeth and ran after it. If he couldn't stop it, maybe he could find out where it was going.

The demon guardian didn't approach the village that had been watching the area for countless years. It ran through the forest, heading west. It's scaly brown skin blended into the tree marked sky.

"Where the heck is it going?," Cully asked himself, stopping. His human legs could never keep up with that monstrosity.

Cully turned and went back to the entrance to the mound. He looked inside, wishing he had a flashlight. The afternoon sun let him know that Nebiros had broken through from the tomb according to the holes in the walls that he could see. He didn't expect to find Red Barton down in his resting place.

He probably should still check it out, and make sure. After all, the big scaly thing could have just left him buried while it was doing its thing. That would be one less problem for them to deal with if it were true.

He just wasn't that hopeful.

Cully decided that he had to at least tell Twitch what had happened. Besides all their climbing gear was with Cap Carrington and his plane. The former hijacker hadn't given a thought to unloading it. It was just something extra that Blake had packed in case of something. That should have been a warning sign that he would eventually need it.

Cully turned from the ancient prison and headed for the village at a fast clip. He needed to find the others and work out some way to track Nebiros down while he was exploring the pit. The guardian hadn't decided to go for a walk on a whim. It was after somebody. And Cully didn't need three guesses what body it was after.

He wondered if Morgana Le Fay knew that her watchdog had been unleashed. She was in for a nasty surprise when it finally caught up with her. Hopefully he would be there to see the look on her face.

Adam Blake's plane soared through the air. He had asked his assistants to watch the tomb in England two days ago. They had arrived that night after a long flight, and then yesterday they had encountered Nebiros again. Cully Morrigan had reported failure in trying to stop it.

The demon beast had headed west. Blake didn't think it would stop at the coast. That placed Le Fay on this side of the Atlantic. That would make her easier to find if they could narrow it down more.

Hopefully that was something Mr. Tremaine could handle. He seemed sure he could pick up the trail with whatever ability he possessed.

Blake brought the plane in for a text book landing at the Boston airport. He parked it near a private hangar he had put in place for just that purpose. A car waited for the travelers inside the voluminous sheet metal structure. A few minutes of work transferred the mystery man's equipment to the trunk of the vehicle.

"Do you always travel with an arsenal?," Layton asked.

"I like to be prepared as much as possible," said Blake. "You never know what you will run into when you look into things like this."

Layton shook his head. He had worked on several of Blake's cases, mostly as a victim. Blake had a penchant for the last minute rescue and some weird trick up his sleeve. That was balanced by a razor-sharp mind that seemed to know more about what was going on than he should.

"I think we should try west of here," said Tremaine, climbing into the back seat, settling easily with his hat pulled low.

"Why west?," asked Layton, taking shotgun.

"She tried her spell near Harvard," said Tremaine. "I'm hoping to drive along at a course south of there in the hopes of seeing something useful."

"And Cambridge is west of here," said Blake. "How close will you have to be to sense something, Mr. Tremaine?"

"I don't know," said Mr. Tremaine. "Some of it depends on intensity. The more she felt about something, the more it will be in the air."

"The easier it will be to track," said Layton, catching on.

"Exactly," said Tremaine. "Then we can home in on the trail like following tracks. She could lose me if she thinks to cover up before she can do the spell. Afterwards it won't matter if we know or not, she'll be at full power again."

"Okay," said Layton. "I can't disagree with that."

"I'm glad you see it my way," said Tremaine, smiling slightly. It felt strange to smile, but he enjoyed it when it happened.

Layton shrugged. He knew how to do one thing almost superhumanly well, and other things competently. He wasn't going to argue with an expert in his field, even a field that was borderline craziness.

"Do not worry," said Blake, slicing through traffic like a knife. "We still might have a chance even if she does take her powers back."

"How big a chance?," said Layton, knowing better not to ask.

Blake held up thumb and index finger an inch apart. His wooden face didn't show if he was joking, or serious.

Layton winced. That was about what he had thought.

Layton settled in his chair, thinking about the job ahead. First they had to find the witch. Then they had to stop her from going through whatever she was planning to do. It sounded easy when he said it in his head. He even had two experts who would agree that it was easy.

He had a feeling that they knew things they didn't want to share with him because they were more concerned with the risks involved, or because they didn't know how they fitted together. Neither idea made him feel better as he rolled under the Massachusetts sun.

Cully Morrigan descended into the tomb the same way he had climbed out of it months ago. He had shot some men, battled the thing that had escaped, and learned that his boss was a little stranger than he had first thought.

That thing had called him Sir Tempus and spoke as if the boss had helped build this thing underground. Cully wondered if the demon had been right.

On the other hand, it didn't matter. The pay was good. Blake kept to himself except when he was on a job. He was matter of fact and said little, but he was loyal. The ex-hijacker had seen first hand that the mystery man helped any he considered a friend without question.

Cully paused at the inner crypt. He compared it to what he remembered from that last battle they had fought. Something was missing. He went to a gap in the wall, and peered inside. The stone coffin they had left Red Barton in was smashed open. The man had been let loose from his slumber by someone.

Cully only had two suspects for that. He had the demon that had broke out of here, and he had Barton's helper who thought he was running things. It didn't take much reckoning to see the way of things. He wondered if Barton had decided to repay the kindness.

Cully didn't think so.

Morrigan headed for daylight. Barton was on the loose, and that thing was on the loose too. The question of the moment was where was it going and why? There was no point trying to stop it. They didn't have the firepower to put it down on their own.

He took a deep breath of fresh air when he got back to the surface. The English countryside hid the blood spilled in the middle of the night by him and his associates. Too bad his face was a grinning rictus. The trees might have made him smile.

Morrigan headed back to town. The others should have packed their equipment by now. Cap already had the plane ready to fly as soon as he made it back to St. Mary's. Then they could try and think of a way to get that demon guardian back while they were following it. He couldn't think of anything in the cases that would work.

The only thing that looked viable was letting it go where it wanted and try to keep it away from innocents.

That was too passive for Cully. He liked to shoot things when he could, knock heads, deal with his problems face to face. Sitting back and watching was foreign to him.

Cully reached St. Mary's, the village near the tomb. He paused to look for the car they had rented before driving down from the nearest airport. He had thought Cap would wreck the plane on the gravel runway provided for landings and take offs. It was a few miles away over narrow roads.

"What did you find?," Twitch Twitchell asked.

"A whole lot of nothing," said Morrigan, tipping his hat back. "Mr. Ugly wasn't the only thing that took a powder."

"We're tracking that thing down," said Twitch, not really asking a question. He knew Morrigan, and his reputation. "Any idea how to bring it down?"

"A H-bomb would probably do it," said Morrigan, getting in the car. "Know where we can get one of those?"

"Not off the top of my head," said Twitch, getting behind the wheel. "If you give me a hundred years, maybe I could get one for us."

"I'll give you a hundred years to learn how to drive," said Morrigan.

"Everyone's a critic," said the pool hustler as he pulled on the road and headed for the airport. "We'll be in the air soon enough."

"It won't be soon enough for me," said Morrigan. "I wish we had an expert to help us out. We can't take that thing with what we got, and we don't know if we have to do that in the first place."

"Don't tell me you think it's on our side," said Twitch.

"I don't know," said Cully. "I know it passed by instead of ripping my head off. Best guess, it's serving its own interests which coincide with ours for the moment."

"Lovely," said Twitch.

Croyd Layton watched the Boston traffic thin as they left the city proper. Tremaine gave simple directions from the back of the car as he looked out the open window. They had passed where the medium and Le Fay had clashed earlier. Knife strokes in the asphalt had made that clear.

The car prowled west and south until Layton noticed they were circling the same block. Blake pulled over to the curb, looking around with his metallic green eyes. He looked in the mirror questioningly as Tremaine seemed to sniff the air.

"She's here in the neighborhood somewhere," said Tremaine. "I can feel it. This is where it will start."

Blake pulled out a black box from his jacket. He slid a green card down a slot in the side. A small screen lit up, displaying facts for his eyes only. He clicked the box off and put it away after he finished reading.

"Anything interesting?," Layton asked.

"There was a haunting reported in this block about a hundred years ago," said Blake. "The house was reportedly torn down afterwards."

"Let me guess," said Layton. "Lights and weird noises were reported, then someone found hex symbols everywhere inside the place."

"Circles from the description," said Blake. "I do not know the address to find whatever is left."

"We're almost on a straight line from the other site," said Tremaine. "I can feel something stirring around me."

"Probably the magic Morgana hopes to harness," said Blake. "I imagine the original incantation was cast in hopes of doing the same thing. If the line is still active, I doubt the spell worked the way the caster thought it would."

"Let's look around," said Tremaine. "Perhaps we can pinpoint the area Morgana intends to use with a search."

The three men got out of the car, deciding to stay together as they moved down the sidewalk. Morgana Le Fay had almost killed Tremaine once. Blake and she were old acquaintances. Both mystery men had a fair idea of what she could and would do if they discovered her and didn't stop her on the first try. Death would be preferable.

Circling the block led the men to a vacant lot overgrown with trash and brush. Small wooden houses surround the clearing on three sides as if afraid any outsider would see what was there. The greenery left one spot bare.

Tremaine paused to examine their find, crouching to touch the scarred ground with fingertips. Light sparked from the remains of pictures and letters. He stood to let the spark fade in the grooves carved in the dirt. He pushed his hat back from his forehead.

"This is where it happened," said Tremaine. "It felt like a battery still trying to charge."

"That's a good lure," said Layton. "She could come here, turn this thing on, and do her thing."

"The neighborhood would be damaged by any such spell," said Tremaine. "These houses would almost certainly be destroyed. They're too close to the circle."

"This has to be the place, or close to it," said Blake. "We will need to set up an ambush so we can employ the element of surprise."

"We can use one of these houses as a blind," said Layton. "I can put her down with one shot easy."

"I have a tranquilizer gun in my car," said Blake. "That will do the job until we can arrange for her return to her tomb."

"I don't think I want to go back to where that thing was," said Layton. "That was as close as I want to cut it."

"Nebiros is harmless as long as we do not stand in the way of his mission," said Blake. "Retrieving Morgana will probably be a priority for him if he shows up, if he is trying to follow Morgana at all, and not Barton."

"Morgana is here," said Tremaine. "I've dealt with her and know the feel. This brought her. It's some kind of focus."

"If the guardian moves at his normal pace," said Blake. "He will arrive in Boston tonight or tomorrow sometime in the morning."

"That's swell," said Layton.

Red Barton blinked in the Spanish day, glad to be moving again. He had spent almost seven months locked in darkness. He regretted that his ally had died while he had recovered. He could have used the one handed man's resources.

Still he had been able to gather some information from the man's mind while he had been sleeping. That is what had brought him to this sleepy village in Spain. He needed an ally to deal with Adam Blake. He hoped to find that man here.

Barton had seized mystical power from Morgana Le Fay. He had learned that magic on its own was no match for someone with lightning speed. Blake had defeated him soundly before he could carry out the rest of his plan.

Barton had feared that the guardian, Nebiros, would pursue him. Escape had been something that he had planned in a dream. He had not expected that the dream spell would work as well as it had. Why hadn't Morgana done the same thing? Her vast experience should have made it easy unless the tomb allowed him to escape because it wasn't made to hold him.

That didn't make sense to him. He sensed something mucking with him, but he couldn't see what.

"Pardon me," Barton said to a man in the street, perfect Spanish rolling off his tongue. "I'm looking for a man named Vega."

The man claimed not, shaking his head. His thoughts said otherwise, pointing the resurrected man right where he wanted to go. Barton nodded as he walked away. A cloud of ash drifted down to where a skeleton lay in burned clothes.

Sometimes you lie to the wrong person and paid the price.

Barton made his way to the one house that stood on its own. No yard, a small wall on the sidewalk, whitewashed exterior. It didn't look like the home of an assassin.

Barton knocked on the door, aware that he had been heard as he had walked along the stone sidewalk. He waited, spells prepared to deal with his potential employee. This could be a messy negotiation, but he didn't want to fight if he didn't have to.

"Who's there?," said the resident.

"I have a proposition for you, Senor Vega," said Barton. "Can I come inside to talk to you?"

The door opened. A slender man stared at Barton with almost green eyes, brown hair pulled back from his brow. His face was curiously wooden.

"I don't know you," said Vega. "Why have you come to me?"

"I've learned that you have dealt with a man known as Adam Blake," said Barton. "I would like to hire you to kill him."

"He's a master," said Vega. "What you ask verges on the impossible."

"He's due to interfere in an operation that I am undertaking," said Barton, smiling slightly. "If you can't kill him, can you hold him off what I am doing for a certain amount of time?"

"How much are you offering?," asked Vega. It didn't take a mind reader to see the chain of thoughts running through his head.

"How much do you want?," said Barton. "I'm willing to negotiate an acceptable fee."

"You may enter," said Vega, stepping out of the way. "Tell me your plan, and I will think on what I can do to help you."

Barton entered, looking around the simple room. No furniture, no decorations, a wooden box next to a chest. It was austere in the extreme. Vega took a place in the center of the room and sat on the floor.

"I am listening," said Vega, gesturing for his visitor to sit down across from him.

Barton sat down, aware that one move before he could raise his shields would finish him.

"I am trying to find someone that Blake is also pursuing," said Barton. "I am offering you your contract price to hinder him in anyway you think is acceptable, even kill him if possible."

"You will have twenty pounds of gold brought here," said Vega. "You will not get that back. If Blake is dead, I will want twenty more pounds delivered here. Do we have a deal?"

"That is acceptable to me," said Barton. "When can I expect you to get started?"

"As soon as the first half is delivered," said Vega. "Do you know where Blake is right now?"

"He is in America looking for the woman I need to carry out my plans," said Barton, standing. "In Boston."

"The payment first," said Vega, gesturing with a hand.

"Of course," said Barton. "I will be right back."

Barton stepped outside the house. He picked up two brick-like rocks from the side of the road. A moment's thought rearranged their molecules. He went back to the residence and handed them to the slimmer man.

Vega nodded.

Adam Blake watched the sun set over Boston impassively. He stood in a doorway, more shadow than man. This wasn't the first stakeout he had ever been on. He doubted it would be the last.

Tremaine and Layton waited not too far away. The medium had reckoned they had time to eat so they had before they had joined Blake. Now they were stationed across the square in case something happened to the mystery man.

Blake had dealt with Morgana Le Fay after the fall of Camelot. He had been one of those who had entombed her. The mystery man expected rage when he started to interfere in whatever spell she hoped to cast. He didn't want the others in the way when that happened.

They were capable in their ways, but neither had faced the queen of magic when she was a force to be reckoned with. They would annoyances to be dealt with summarily if they got too close without someone running interference for them.

His training made him that man.

The sky cleared to a starry covering above as the three waited. Blake heard the crunching of feet as someone light approached. If they could take her unawares, they would only have to deal with Barton.

If Nebiros was free, the power thief had to be free also.

A woman walked into the grass yard. A smile lit her face and confirmed her identity. This was the great Le Fay. She looked tired and distracted. She moved to stand at the faint drawing in the dirt. A nimbus danced on the ground at her feet.

Blake moved to take advantage of her distraction. He wanted to end this before she knew he was there in the same space as her.

As Blake streaked across the open area, he heard a noise like high pitch whistling. Instinct made him push Morgana out of the way. Something had cut the air like a bullet. The target was the witch queen.

"Bravo," said a voice out of the darkness.

Red Barton stepped out of the shadows, clapping his hands. He wore a wide smile on his lean face. His suit, the same he had been buried in, was immaculate.

"I knew you would get involved," said Barton. "I didn't think it would be this soon."

"I, on the other hand, did not expect to see you at all," said Blake, glittering eyes scanning the area. "I also did not expect you to have gained an ally so soon."

"Give me what I want," said Barton, holding out a hand. "And I'll go away. There need not be any trouble."

"I have to take the opposite position," said Blake. "There is already trouble."

A crash told Blake that one of his allies had discovered Barton's. He turned to pick up Morgana and get her clear. She had vanished somehow while he was distracted. The mystery man felt a wave of something not quite right at his back. He shifted position with a minimal effort and was standing out of the way. The ground ruptured at his left.

Shots rang out. Blake watched the bullets cut through the air as he spared a glance to see if anyone else was on the field to be hit. Barton stumbled back as holes opened in his jacket. Croyd Layton had taken no chances. All the projectiles had hit in the same three inches over where a heart should be. The former researcher looked shocked at the violation of his person. Then the bullets fell out on their own volition, plucked out by unseen fingers.

"You'll have to do better than that, Croyd," said Barton. "Bullets are like water to me now."

Blake pulled out a ball and dropped it on the ground. Brilliant light filled the yard for two seconds. The magician fell back, blinded. The investigator leaped with leg extended. His foot landed where Layton's bullets had hit. Barton sailed into a nearby building and stayed glued to the brick for a moment before slumping. The mystery man listened, sidestepping another of the projectiles he had heard earlier.

Tremaine must have been incapacitated by Barton's ally. Blake didn't like that possibility at all.

Adam Blake rushed to where Red Barton lay. Stopping the resurrected menace was more important than chasing down Morgana. Barton had the knowledge gathered by the Diana Foundation, coupled to the stolen magic from Morgana. That made the rogue the most important thing to be stopped.

Taking Barton out of the picture would shift the balance back to a more manageable piece of trouble.

Blake grabbed the lapels of Barton's jacket, hoisting him up from the ground. He let go instantly. A corona of flame snapped in place around the magician. Morgana's nemesis smiled.

"I only allow two touches," said Barton. "Don't cross my path again, Blake."

Barton faded away, his shield vanishing last. Blake noticed that his jacket appeared untouched from both the bullets and the kick before he left. There wasn't even the imprint of a solid body left behind.

"That was bad," said Layton, looking around for another target to shoot.

"Let's find Tremaine," said Blake. "We need to get after them."

The two men headed for where Blake thought the pellets had originated. Tremaine must have spotted the shooter, and gone after the man. The medium might be dead somewhere on the roof tops. Blake had no doubt that a practitioner from Kwan Lee had been involved in the mundane attack.

He even had a vague idea of which one.

This situation kept getting worse and worse the more it advanced. They had to get ahead and stop one of the mages, either one, and then deal with the master. Add Nebiros in the mix, and things could become worse yet.

"Tremaine!," shouted Layton, pistol still in hand. Anything he didn't like should decide to pop up right then would get a bullet in the mug. "Where are you?"

"Here," said a faint voice in the dark.

The medium appeared out of the night, blue eyes lambent from under the shadow of his hat. He held himself upright with an effort.

"What happened to you?," said Layton.

"There was another man here," said Tremaine. "He had a blow gun up on the roof. I surprised him, but he was fast. I fell off the roof."

"We have to regroup and try to track down Morgana," said Blake. "We have to hurry if we want to stop them."

"You know the guy with the dart gun?," asked Layton. The trio headed back for their car. "Why would he be here?"

"Barton recruited him to stop us," said Blake, getting behind the wheel. "He will be trained to an inhuman degree, and if it is the same man, he holds a grudge against me."

"He wore a white mask over his face when he wasn't blowing pebbles down here," said Tremaine. One hand clutched at his side as he sat down.

"Vega," said Blake, pulling from the curve as soon as his allies were settled. "Three superhuman opponents are bad odds. You both are welcome to quit if you want."

"I can't quit until I get that stuff back for the Foundation," said Layton. "There has to be a way to deal with Barton."

"I'm also committed to this," said Tremaine, sitting up and regaining some of his color as they rolled along. "You've dealt with these people before. I'm sure you have something in mind."

"I think we have done all we can for the moment," said Blake, aiming the car west. "We have two options to proceed at the moment. More may present themselves as we work."

"Go on," said Tremaine.

"We can wait and try to follow Nebiros to Morgana," said Blake, cutting through traffic. "Or we can try and locate either the next junction, or Barton."

"Nebiros was that big ugly thing at Morgana's tomb, right?," said Layton. "I seem to remember he was bulletproof."

"That is correct," said Blake.

"The magic was disrupted," said Tremaine, looking out the window. "It'll take some time for it to reform. Morgana will lie low and conceal herself from Barton as much as possible. I feel she has limited resources as far as actually traveling somewhere. I don't think she'll hang around here. She'll try to find a way to the next spot she thinks she can do her spell."

"Plane, train, or bus," Blake said to himself. "Plane. It's the fastest way out of town."

"Let me handle Barton," said Tremaine. "You handle the guy in the mask."

"Agreed," said Blake, heading back toward the airport. He had a feeling that Tremaine had dealt with wizards before this. He didn't seem surprised by the turn of events in any case.

"I'm the decoy, aren't I," said Layton unhappily.

Cap Carrington radioed into Boston as he neared Massachusetts. It had been a long flight in from England. He needed to land and take a nap while the boys figured out what they were going to do next. At least they had beaten that big ugly to the States.

Carrington had heard the story from Twitch Twitchell. He just hadn't believed the skinny stool pigeon. He had seen the path of destruction through the countryside as they flew out the United Kingdom. It had been on a straight line, and once it hit the water, a line on the map said it was heading to New England.

They knew that Blake had said he was going to be in Boston. It was an easy assumption that was where the monster was going. A long plane flight later showed Cap landing lights on a runway. He brought the plane down, listening to the tower, then taxied over to the hangar to where he had been directed.

The place was empty, but Cap could tell that some other plane had been there recently from the cockpit of his own. He shut down the engines, and made his way back to the body of the plane. His passengers seemed to have been lulled to sleep. As he touched the door handle, he heard a noise.

"Are we on the ground?," asked Cully Morrigan, sitting up in his chair.

"Yep," said Carrington, noting the handgun being put back in its holster. "I'm getting a nap, and arranging for refueling in case we have to get back in the air. Now's the time to check in with the boss and figure our next move."

"You don't have to tell me twice," said Morrigan, standing up, and stretching the kinks out. "Let me make the call."

The two men climbed down the step ladder, looking around the empty hangar. Morrigan pulled on his jacket to cover the two pistols he always wore. An envelope addressed to Blake's Seven caught their eye. It was pinned to a cork board on a wall near a work area to their right.

"Looks like the boss was already here," said Morrigan.

"Let's see what he has to say," said the pilot.

Cully took the envelope and opened it. The letter inside what was he expected. He knew the chief well enough to know this was some kind of back up plan. Especially if Vega was back on the scene, and helping Barton.

"This is bad," said Cap after reading the note.

"We're chasing a witch, a madman wizard, a super fighter, and a monster," said Morrigan, his rictus making it hard to tell if he was smiling or not. "I can stand to be at the back of the pack."

"I'll get the plane refueled while we're waiting for the big ugly to show up," said Carrington. "Following it will be the easy part."

"I'll get the others to help you," said Cully. "I'll get us some grub. I have the feeling that Nebiros won't be here anytime soon no matter how fast he can swim."

"As soon as we're done tanking up," said Cap, putting the note down. "I'm getting some sleep. We could be in the air for a while the way he was going."

"Food is on me," said Morrigan.

The former hijacker headed across the tarmac to the airport. There had to be a snack bar in there or nearby. He would feed the troops and get ready for round two. The idea came into his head that they could use Nebiros as a hound dog if they could put him on a leash. He thought about the idea as he walked.

There had to be something in one of those boxes they could use for such a hair brained idea. Tank might know. He was a mechanic and Morrigan felt he would know if anyone would, other than Blake himself.

Then they could just sit back and kind of steer the beast around somehow.

Cully put the thought of leading the watch dog out of his mind. Nebiros was bulletproof and near lightning fast. Claws at the ends of Popeye arms cut through stone when they had battled in the tomb. Finding a way to keep track of him would be fine, anything else would be gravy. Hope was the only thing he could think of to keep the monster from civilians if the thing wanted to sink a snaggle tooth into one. His Colt wasn't going to do the job.

The grinning man found a little hot dog stand. He loaded up with food and bottled soda. Then he headed back to the hangar. His idea still played around in his head. It was the kind of thing he expected Blake to do.

Maybe that was what the Chief wanted them to do, but he hadn't wanted to leave that in a note.

Anyone could read a note left in the open. Morrigan thought about the words again as he walked across the tarmac. The information written in quick block letters was only what the enemy would know with nothing of Blake's true intentions. That was typical of how the mystery man worked.

Cully reached the hangar, nodding at the fuel truck already pumping gas into the Jenny. He wanted to tell the others his idea but decided to wait until they were alone. No use spreading it over the airport, and then Boston beyond.

Morgana Le Fay had found a taxi. A wave of her hand had bewitched the driver. He decided to take her to the train station. He would do anything thanks to the glitter in her eyes.

Morgana got out at the main station, not knowing the name of the place. She ran through the building. It didn't matter which train she boarded as long as it was headed west. The power would gather again. She had to be ready at a nexus to capture it and turn it into fuel.

First she had to get away from Barton.

She didn't know how he had escaped the tomb. She didn't want to know. He had most of her power at his fingertips. She had been trapped, storing it for centuries. He had stolen all that in seconds.

Morgana reached one train, realizing that she didn't have money for a ticket. She could keep beguiling the conductor but the spell would be like a beacon to those who knew what to look for. She had to secure a normal ticket and then quit using her magic for a while.

Morgana went to the ticket counter. One wave of her hand got her a ticket without money. She walked over to the train, and boarded without luggage. The train was heading to the Midwest, to Reagan City. That was good enough for now.

She could secure necessities once she got there.

Morgana's ticket had gotten her a private berth. She settled in, looking out the window from her fold out couch. She was now a normal woman for the next few days. She hoped that was enough to drop her below the radar again. She didn't have the power to take on Barton the way he had made himself.

Morgana's mind jumped to examining the events of the day while she looked out the window. Barton's appearance told her that Nebiros was on the way. The demon would go after her. She was sure of that. Her body was his charge. There was no way that she could fend it off with her weakened power.

It had been constructed to hold her in that vault forever. A simple switch had fooled it, but obviously with Barton freed it was tracking her down. She had to gather more power to defeat it.

Then there was the problem of Barton. Sooner or later, he would force a confrontation. He knew she was using the books from his betrayed organization to try to fend him off. He was trying to get every bit of power out of her, and stop her from regenerating herself at the same time.

His hireling moved like Tempus did now. A blur in a white mask was not a target she could hope to stop with beguilement. She needed something aimed at the stranger, something speed couldn't beat.

Tempus and his friends were wild cards. They had protected her, but also sought her capture. They could be used but not trusted. That one in the hat had looked through her. She didn't dare to get close to him. He had something he could use to grasp magic. She felt that.

The landscape passed by outside. Hunger and weariness ate at her. She needed some food and sleep. Maybe that would help her regain her equilibrium.

Morgana made her way to the club car, realizing that she would need some money to pay for the food. She wanted to avoid using magic, but she needed the food more than safety. As long as she was moving, she hoped she would be safe.

Barton might be good enough to home in on the train and appear any second.

The sorceress put her fear aside. There was nothing she could do to stop Barton, so there was nothing she could gain from worrying. Better to eat and sleep. Tomorrow was a new day.

Croyd Layton strode into the train station, looking around. Somewhere else in the building, Blake and Tremaine were doing the same thing. Tremaine was a weird character. He had sniffed the air, tracing Morgana's path from the casting circle.

He said it was like seeing a picture floating in front of him.

Layton had decided to start with the ticket men, hoping one of them had seen Morgana. That would give them a train, a destination. He didn't expect much more than that.

Layton walked over to the booth, eyes open for Barton and his new companion. He didn't expect to see them, but if he did, he wanted a chance. Barton needed a hole in his head.

Layton knocked on the window to attract the attention of the men in the booth. They looked at him with a mix of inquisitiveness and hostility. He tried to smile to express civility.

"How can I help you, sir?," said the older of the two.

"I'm looking for a woman," said Layton. He gave the basic description of Morgana, including the clothes he remembered seeing on her. Their eyes remained blank as they denied seeing such a lady.

Layton nodded. He decided to ask some of the other staff on duty. Maybe someone had seen her. That was his best hope at the moment.

Layton spent the next hour asking questions of anybody in a train uniform. A porter had seen such a woman. He hadn't seen which train she had boarded.

The marksman found Tremaine standing beside the tracks, looking in the distance. His hands were in his pockets as he considered what he had found.

"Found a maybe," said Layton. "How did you do?"

"I found a trail I think," said Tremaine. "She got on a train as far as I can tell."

"You don't know which one," said Layton.

"Correct," said Tremaine. "These rails give me a clue as to which train we should be looking for. I just need to isolate the feeling."

"I'll get a train schedule," said Layton. "That will give us a list of next stops we can choose from."

"Good idea," said Tremaine. "I'm sure she went west, instead of south, or north. I think the magic line flowed that way too."

"I'll get the western train schedules," said Layton. "How many could have gone out today?"

Layton went back to the ticket booth, grabbing a yellow pamphlet off a rack. He scanned it as he walked back to where Tremaine waited. There were at least ten trains heading to points west. Maybe this wasn't such an excellent idea after all.

"We have ten suspects," he said, handing the paper over to the man in black.

"I like the one for Reagan City," said Tremaine after a minute of study. "It seems to be the one departing the station closest to when we last saw her."

"So we get Blake and fly out there ahead of her," said Layton. "We should beat her by days."

"I agree," said Tremaine. "I wonder if Barton has come to the same conclusions. He can be in Reagan City faster than a plane."

"Let's look around for Blake," said Layton. "Then we can take off."

"I expect he is gathering information with his arcane methods," said Tremaine. "He's almost like a magician himself."

Layton led the way, as the two men looked for the mystery man. He was aware that both Barton and Morgana hated Blake. He was also aware that Blake and Morgana had met somewhere before the deadly minutes spent in the tomb in England. He wondered how that could be but knew Blake wouldn't say.

He liked his mysteries too much.

Layton saw an image out of the corner of his eye. He turned toward it with his lightning reflexes. Red Barton stood toward the other side of the station, waving his hand at them. A smile was on his lips.

"We're in trouble," Layton said. "Barton is here."

"Where?," said Tremaine, disturbed that he hadn't felt anything in the air around him.

"Over there," said Layton, pointing openly. Only Barton had disappeared in an eye blink as the two had exchanged words. "He's gone."

"This can only be trouble," said Tremaine. "I think we should head for the exit as fast as possible."

"I'm with you on that," said Layton, leading the way. His hand drifted to the pistol he carried under his arm. "He was smiling. Obviously he thinks we won't make it."

Tremaine said nothing, his eyes gleaming under the brim of his hat. He felt strands of magic around him. He didn't know what it was meant to do, but he knew it was some kind of trap. Why else string them across the station?

"We're in trouble," said Tremaine. "Barton has put some kind of spell in the station."

"How bad is it?," asked Layton, pausing to look around.

"I don't know," said Tremaine. "I can feel the strands around us. We might as well trip it to see what happens."

"I'm not crazy about that idea," said Layton.

"Neither am I," said Tremaine, reaching for the threads with his unnatural touch.

Nebiros climbed out of the Atlantic, water dripping from his scaly hide. He took a moment to get his bearings before he headed west. His quarry was west, that was the direction he had to go.

His purpose made him a machine of destruction and tireless resolve.

Nebiros bounded into the city, deciding to use roof tops as his stepping stones. He was unstoppable, but why give a meddler a reason to try. That would only delay him from reaching Morgana and imprisoning her again. Speed was more important than fighting, no matter how much he liked to fight.

The guardian paused when he reached the railroad tracks. His compass pointed west. He descended to the rail bed and followed it. She was far ahead of him. It might take him days to catch up, but he would.

That was the advantage of being an inhuman monster. You didn't have to rest until you were done.

Nebiros moved along the rails, tail whipping side to side as he went. He paid no attention to the horseless carriage mirroring his position as he sped along. He felt a flick against his rock hard skin and glanced over, thinking the man leaning out the back had done something, but not knowing what.

The guardian glanced once more at the metal thing. It lost speed, allowing him some privacy as he bulled forward on all fours. If it had kept pacing him, he would have talked to the driver in the only language he understood.

That would have been a short conversation punctuated by the spraying of blood and vital parts of anatomy.

Nebiros left Boston, following the railroad tracks. He needed to move faster. The demon thought about it as he went. Something would present itself. It always did.

The tomb guardian ran many more miles before he saw something he could use to his advantage. He knew that Morgana was somewhere to the west of him. The tracks were paralleling a road heading the way he wanted to go. A large truck wheeled down the road, heading where he wanted to go. He decided that he needed a ride.

Nebiros ran until he reached the speed of the truck. He spotted the driver looking alarmed, but didn't care about a human. He leaped, clawing his way to the top of the trailer and locking down to the roof. He watched the scenery go by, content he was making better time with this common marvel than he would on his own.

He was fast, but this conveyance would carry him twice as fast. All he had to do was make sure that he was still traveling west. Morgana was still only human. She would stop sometime and he would catch up.

Nebiros watched the road ahead, marveling at the changes in the outside world since he had been constrained to guard the tomb in England. He had marked the years as minutes passing while he rested in a stone state. Things had changed almost unrecognizably. Too bad he had to take Morgana back to her resting place to sleep again.

He might like it here in the outside world.

Nebiros had to switch trucks several times as he made his way deep into the Midwest of the United States. His unerring sense carried him forward toward his goal. It wouldn't be long before he could zero in on the runaway sorcereress.

Nebiros leaped from his carrier as the vehicle rolled into Reagan City. He decided that he would use concealment to carry out his mission. He didn't want Morgana getting away before he could put his stone fingers on her.

Nebiros decided that he could wait until nightfall so his movements would be unhindered. All he needed was a nest. He found an empty building and settled in for the night. The bums that had been using the building cleared out when they saw his nasty jaws and bug eyes.

He laughed at their running backs.

Lazarus Tremaine grabbed the red strand close to him, giving it an experimental tug. The whole web vibrated in the station air. The medium didn't know what would happen, but they had to do something about this before they could go anywhere else to look for Morgana Le Fay.

Blake would have to carry on without them if the trap killed Tremaine and Croyd Layton.

The medium snapped the thread, redirecting the killing power trying to grab him and Layton. The world turned black for a second, then color returned as blue flame rushed out of the former rustler's eyes. He looked around carefully, the effort to stay on his feet almost overwhelming.

"We're in a jungle somewhere," said Layton, hand on his pistol as he looked around. "I don't know what you did, but we're halfway around the world."

"I think Barton tried to kill us," said Tremaine. "Let's pick a direction and start walking."

"So why aren't we dead?," asked Layton, looking around at the greenery, moving to a tree.

"I grabbed part of the spell and reversed it," said Tremaine. "That was just enough to protect us, but not enough to ward off all the effect."

Layton started up the tree, pulling himself into a seat in a branch. He looked around, hand over his eyes. He frowned slightly at what he saw.

"There's some kind of wall over there," said Layton. "I can't believe it."

"Let's take a look at it," said Tremaine. "Maybe there's shelter we can use until we figure out where we are, and how to get back to Boston."

"From the looks of things," Layton, climbing down the tree. "It'll be a long swim unless you can pull a plane out of your hat."

"I'll do what I can," said Tremaine, starting off in the direction indicated by his companion.

Layton followed, thinking he was following a ghost. The man in black was silent, never disturbed any plant in his way, blended into shadows with ease. Layton thought he was good at that kind of thing. Maybe he had overrated himself.

Layton paused when he saw the yellow, cracked wall appear between two trees. A bird called something as it took wing to get away from the two strangers. Tremaine touched the wall, concentrated on it for a moment, before he started to his right without explanation.

"What do you think?," Layton whispered.

"Nobody's home," said Tremaine, making his way around the wall. "Not for a long time would be my guess."

"So we can stay here for a while?," said Layton.

"At least until I get my bearings," said Tremaine. "Then we'll have to start for home."

"Sounds okay to me," said Layton. He started picking up some loose limbs on the ground as he walked. They might need a fire when they stopped.

"It was almost dark when we left Boston," said Layton. "How much light do you think we have left?"

"I don't know," said Tremaine. "Hours, minutes. We were trapped in that limbo while the earth moved. We might not even be in the same year as when I grabbed the trigger."

"So we can be anyplace, in any time," said Layton. "So the only good thing is we aren't dead."

"Pretty much," said the man in black, touching the wall again. He nodded as he made his way around a tree, and pushed aside shrubs to reveal a door. "At least we have a cave to rest in until we're ready to move on."

"It's hot out here," said Layton, placing his firewood in the entrance. "I wonder what this place was."

"The last home to a vanished people," said the medium as he looked in the darkness beyond the door they had found.

Cully Morrigan would have smiled if his face hadn't been locked in the ghastly grin he constantly wore. His idea had worked out great as far as he could tell. The best part was the big galoot didn't know he was working for Blake's Seven now.

The first part of the plan had been simple.

Nebiros had come out of the water about where Cully and Twitch had figured. They had kept him in sight until they had a clear shot. Well, until Cully had a clear shot with the rifle he had liberated from Blake's cases.

The rifle had fired a shell full of special dye at the monster. It was harmless to anything it touched. It's one quality was it could be tracked with the special equipment in the metal cases. Cully could sit back and let the creature lead it to where it was going. The paint would last for days, even in the rain.

The best thing was they didn't have to try and stop it until it was close to Morgana. Then they could pounce on both of them.

That sounded easy when he said it in his mind. He didn't think it would be so easy in the doing.

Cully and Twitch had driven to a small airport to meet the plane. Once aboard, they headed west, using the monster as a beacon. They wanted to keep it in sight as much as possible in case the special marker washed off.

They also knew that Blake expected them to keep Nebiros from eating anybody who happened to get in his way before he caught up with Morgana.

Cully didn't want to think about how he was supposed to do that.

Cap and Tank kept the plane in the air, making sure the guardian didn't get too far ahead. A few moments of consultation netted them the fact that Reagan City was ahead, and they could refuel there so they could keep up their aerial surveillance. The train they were watching seemed to be headed in the same direction.

Still, days of the hopping flying wore on the best of nerves. Cully was ready to confront the stone lizard thing after the first few hours, even knowing that he would lose any physical contest.

"Take us into Reagan City," said Cully. "We'll get a car and ride around to keep track on Nebs."

"No problem," said Cap. "It'll be a couple of minutes before we can get in a landing pattern, and put down. Then you guys can hire a car while I take the plane back up."

"I hope the Chief calls soon," said Twitch. "We can't handle that goon on our own."

"We'll do our best," said Cully. "That's all we can do."

Carrington nodded, aiming for the Reagan City National. He brought the plane down gently, as the land crew put their cases where they could throw them down on the runway when they finally stopped rolling. He hoped the equipment would be enough to deal with their enemies.

Cully shoved the door open as soon as the plane stopped rolling. He kicked the ladder down, then dropped down to the asphalt. Twitch began tossing the cases they were taking down to him. He stacked them to one side.

"We're getting fuel," said Tank. "Then we'll get back in the air."

"We have one of Blake's radios," said Cully. "We'll call you when we have a car and are rolling."

"Right," said the mechanic, pulling the ladder up. "Be careful. We still don't know where everyone is."

Cully nodded, picking up two of the three cases and walking toward the terminal. Twitch followed, carrying the third. They passed through the building, headed for the cab stand out front. A show of money hired a hack to take them wherever they had to go until they were finished.

"This is a whole lot of work for trying to get killed," said Twitch.

Adam Blake looked around the train station with his metallic green eyes taking in everything. He had lost track of Tremaine and Layton. It didn't have to be trouble.

He just thought it was.

Blake moved to the front of the concrete building, noting the burn marks on the tile floor near the front entrance as he passed. The ovals didn't quiet his suspicions as he looked around, feeling eyes on his body. He stopped, turning around in a full circle.

He was hearing too many heartbeats for what he could see in the station.

Blake casually headed for a wall. He didn't know what was going on, but felt that his companions had been injured somehow. They could be taken, or dead. He couldn't help that. He wasn't going to join them if he could help it.

Men and women appeared. They wore plain cotton shirts and pants, slippers on their feet. They held simple blades about two feet long. Nearby pedestrians moved away, sensing a problem. Blake noted a mark on their foreheads, but he didn't recognize it which should have been impossible.

He knew every known language on Earth. It had been part of his training.

The conjured enemy swept forward, eyes flashing green as they moved. Blake nodded at the threat. He wasn't just facing skilled fighters. Vega had taught them some of the secrets of Kwan Lee to supplement their natural abilities.

Blake waited, letting the calculations of Kwan Lee move him where they wanted. Blades struck off center, faces dipped too close, his fist cracked against bones. The peasants dropped around him as he redirected their moving bodies where he wanted them to be. The first three seconds left a litter of bodies around his position.

Blake smashed a woman out of the way, hearing projectiles flying toward him. He moved a hand as he fell. The trap came into view now. These people were to distract him until someone could use poison darts on him. He closed off his breathing, pretending to be dead as he lay on the floor. Hopefully they would inspect their work, and not try to shoot him again.

This could be his only chance to get a hand on Vega and stop him from assisting Barton.

Blake heard the air move slightly to his left. He had tried to keep his heartbeat slow, and his breathing nonexistent. He realized it wasn't working when he heard a deep intake of breath. He pushed off from the smooth wall, rolling to his feet. Darts swarmed the air as he moved away from the downed students.

Vega stood behind two of his students, white mask gleaming as it covered his whole face. The two minor students tried to line up on Blake with their blow guns. The mystery man charged into their fire.

Darts hummed around him as he headed right for the two men. He saw them as stationary needles as he aimed for the nearest one. The mystery man felt something in the air, and changed course at the last second. A wall of lightning circled around Vega where he stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

Blake stepped back, glancing around the station. The lightning had been a surprise. He should have noticed the marking on the floor for what it was. Barton had scrawled some symbol on the tiles to activate his protective shield.

Blake moved to a flag staff jutting out the wall. He grabbed the wooden pole, and flung it as hard as he could at the whirling lightning cage. It was the only idea he could come up with to counter the spell.

The flag burned as the pole sliced through the electricity. Vega ducked the makeshift spear, surprised that it had actually made it through the barrier. When he looked around again, the investigator was gone from the platform.

"Find him and kill him." Vega dropped the shield, pointing his minions forward. His surprise attack had failed, but Blake was on the run. They had to keep him on the defensive while Barton took care of his business.

Vega began to wake his students as the two dart men started looking around for Blake. He needed to get his huntsman back on their feet. Blake had to be dealt with for good.

Croyd Layton stood on the edge of a discovery the Foundation would give a pot of loot to put in a museum, study until their eyeballs fell out, maybe get working again if they could figure out how. All he wanted was to get back to civilization.

"What do we do now?" Layton let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room his companion had entered.

"I'm looking for a map." Tremaine's voice sounded disembodied. "Once we know where we are, we can get back to the States that much faster."

"What makes you think these people had a map we would recognize?" Layton didn't like the way his voice echoed inside the artificial cave.

"What makes you think they didn't?" Tremaine sounded closer. "Everyone makes a map for people who come behind them."

"That's an interesting philosophy." Why did he always wind up with the mysterious riddlers? First Nightmare, then Blake, now this cowboy.

Tremaine appeared, a shadow emerging from deeper shadows. His eyes glinted from the stray light in the opening. He held up a small rectangle of dirty white.

"That's a map?" Layton's eyebrows went up.

Tremaine gave the rectangle a squeeze with his hand. Light formed around him in a swirl of pinpoints revolving around a yellow ball in the center.

"Our galaxy." Tremaine smiled through the swirling display. He gave the control another squeeze. A smaller display of balls rolling around a smaller yellow ball. "Our solar system." He gave the thing another squeeze. One ball became a picture of Earth. "Our planet."

"I was wrong." Layton smiled slightly. "So where are we, Einstein?"

"Right here." Another squeeze showed a section of Africa near the center.

"It's a long walk to civilization." Layton noted the position marked by a glowing red dot. "We'll probably have some problems with the locals."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Tremaine vanished in the darkness. "I would appreciate it if you said nothing about this."

"This is the find of the century." Layton knew the Foundation would pay a fortune for something like this.

"The people wouldn't like that." Tremaine said it in a way that said the inhabitants of the lost city still watched them.

"They wouldn't?" Layton looked around, hand reaching for a pistol.

"They still look after things." Tremaine stepped out of the darkness once more. "Outsiders would be hurt."

"I understand." Layton shook his head. "There is a dig north of here. We can get a ride back to civilization from there maybe."

"After you." Tremaine waited for his companion to start off before following silently.

The medium looked back, doffing his hat at the shades watching him leave. They nodded at the gesture of farewell. He vanished into the line of trees after the gun man. He had to get back on the job.

Adam Blake moved silently as he ducked out of the train station. He made his way across the street. A lone shadow hid him as he waited. He needed to turn the tables somehow. Barton had recruited well in Vega, the outcast of Kwan Lee.

The man of the future would just have to do better.

The league of assassins, those that could still walk, exited the station. They would try to sniff him out. They weren't at his skill level, but numbers could make up for that lack if he wasn't careful. Blake's metallic green eyes whirled as he considered tactics.

Blake reached into his equipment vest, thinking that he had just the thing for this situation. It meant taking a risk, but that was acceptable. It might give him an edge later.

He pulled out a glass cylinder filled with liquid and a grenade. He picked his victim carefully. He threw the grenade first. It was an easy overhand throw that landed in the middle of the group. A cloud of white enveloped Vega's students. He flung the glass bomb hard enough to break it against the forehead of his victim.

Blake vanished down the alley. There was no need to fight if you could walk away clean. Besides he didn't know how many students Vega had decided to train. He had to make sure he was free and clear without a nasty surprise throwing a monkey wrench in his plans.

Blake pulled out his black box, sliding the green activation card in its side. A blip told him his marker worked well. He didn't know it, but this tactic was the same that Cully Morrigan would use on Nebiros to keep him on the track of Morgana Le Fay. Simple and effective appealed to both men. It was almost the only thing they had in common.

Blake didn't know what had happened to Tremaine and Layton. He hoped they were alive and well, but knew that chances were they had been killed by Barton and his lackey. In any case, they were out of the picture for the time being. If Barton had them, he would issue some demand sooner or later.

Blake would just have to wait for that while he tried to find Le Fay. He didn't expect that she would be happy to see him before her own scheme came into being.

Blake circled the station, aiming for a bus. He had a feeling that his car had already been marked in some way. He would have to hire someone to pick it up later and get rid of it. No point in taking chances.

Blake saw a bus down the street. He caught up to it at its next stop. Once he was on board, he planned out his route to try and catch up with Morgana. She had gotten out of town safely. It was time for him to do the same thing if he could.

Blake switched buses several times, his eyes open for anyone trying to latch onto him. He flagged a cab, and headed back to the airport. He walked the perimeter until he was satisfied that no one was watching for him. Barton's magic made it impossible to be totally sure that he had gotten clear of Vega's league of assassins.

He just had to act as if he was being watched every second until he finally caught up with Morgana and dealt with Barton permanently.

Blake left a note for his assistants before taking flight in his own airplane. He believed that Morgana had headed west using a train. He hoped he caught up with her before his rivals did. The measure that Barton had stolen from her made him almost unstoppable if he continued to learn how to harness the energy coursing through his veins.

Blake pointed the plane west, calling ahead to private detectives along the train routes. He gave his dragnet the relevant descriptions and told the investigators to keep back and watch. He didn't want any deaths on something that simple.

Hopefully one of his unknown helpers would spot Morgana and keep her in sight until he arrived to try to fix things. This was already turning into more than he had thought when he agreed to help the Foundation get its books back.

He should have seen the hidden catches from a mile away.

Morgana Le Fay looked at the sky one more time. She had been on the move since her arrival in Reagan City. Brief touches of glamor allowed her food as she waited for the next crossing.

She didn't know how long she had, but knew it wouldn't be long before her pursuers caught up with her. She had to be ready to defend herself long enough to escape. If the crossing arrived first, she would have some measure of satisfaction burning Barton down. Several spells she had researched would allow her to deal with Nebiros.

She knew she would have to act fast if she encountered any of those trailing behind her. She felt that she could bargain with Tempus, perhaps the medium she had glimpsed. Barton wanted to kill her. Nebiros was made to keep her locked away from the world. She had plans to deal with the threats but she needed surprise and the upper hand before she dared try anything.

Morgana found the spot she wanted on the second day. It was an out of the way space behind a grocery store. She marked it with chalk, before taking a sighting if she missed. The crossing would continue west to the ocean, so if she missed it, she could try and catch up on the coast. She marked a line through a map she had bought and tucked it away in her purse before walking away.

Nothing to do now but wait.

Morgana kept on the move inside Reagan City. The public transport system allowed her continuous traveling time without the use of magic. She only had to pay attention to things outside the conveyance for the most part. Best of all, if she did have to use magic, the scent was blocked by the metal interior and glass windows.

Morgana also found a place she could rest at night for the limited amount of time she would be in town. The Reagan City Coliseum was closed for the moment as the city readied for several shows that were supposed to hit town at the same time. While workers tried to get the huge building ready for the exhibitions, she could rest in a forgotten closet under the building. So far she had been able to sleep soundly without fear. And after the next day, her third day in town, she probably wouldn't have to return to the building one way, or the other.

Either she had the magic from the crossing to bolster her own, or she would be trying to get to the next place she could use, or she would be dead or taken by one of her enemies.

She didn't see much leeway between success and failure.

Morgana finished her day with a supper at a small café, then entering the stadium. She stealthily made her way down to her hidey hole to settle in for the night. Tomorrow promised to be a busy day for her. She needed all the rest she could muster before she tried to work her magic.

Morgana checked her markers before settling in. No one had disturbed her place while she was gone. She unfolded the blanket she had stolen and wrapped it around her body as she propped herself against a cold wall. It was another night of chilliness to work her way through before trying again.

She had to succeed tomorrow night. She could only fail so many times before Nebiros caught up with her in her weakened condition, or Barton seized the rest of her power. Then she would really have problems. She went over her preparations one more time, visualizing the concepts, the words, the gestures. Speed would be her friend, so she worked at stripping the ritual down to the bare minimum she needed to succeed.

She didn't like it, but she had to be done before her personal devils showed up to interfere. Barton couldn't be allowed to take advantage of the crossing, or take any more of her own power. He would eventually be unstoppable by lesser forces.

If only Tempus and his companions had dealt with Barton at the last effort. Things would be so much easier without the worry the ex-Foundation member posed. All this would have been over, and she could start rebuilding her power in the world, become the power behind the kingship again.

Anything was better then running for her life in the hope that she could do something to fend off the menace behind her.

Morgana slipped into dreams without realizing it. The survivors of Camelot had seized her after the fall of Arthur. Tempus's was the last face standing over her as the lid slammed down on her coffin. In her dream, she screamed for a long time, stuck in the dark. Then something grabbed her leg.

She woke up, holding in a cry, hands over her face. She had passed many years in the dark. She couldn't go back. She couldn't go back to dreaming without a way to escape.

Lazarus Tremaine carefully placed one foot after the other. He admitted to himself that he wasn't as human as he thought he was. This little walk across Africa was a case in point.

He barely felt the heat, weariness from walking, and the insects left him alone for the most part. His sense of direction kept him on the same path as jungle gave way to a prairie. Occasionally he spotted a predator and scared it off with a glare.

Croyd Layton, his companion, was having a harder time of it despite being in good condition. He struggled behind the man in black, glad to have his sunglasses. They were miles from anything remotely like civilization as far as he was concerned. It took effort to put one foot in front of the other when he didn't know where he was going.

"I see something ahead, Croyd." Tremaine paused, looking out over the grasslands.

"It's not a lion, is it?" Layton paused to look ahead. "Looks like a truck."

"I wonder if they'll give us a ride." Tremaine squinted for a better look. "We might have to do some bargaining."

"I have a little money." Layton checked his pistols as he walked. "I don't how much good that will do us."

Tremaine led the way toward the rolling truck, wondering if they saw the two of them crossing the open area. People didn't always pay attention when they were driving. He noticed that the passenger held a rifle. He looked around, noting it was a good place for a robbery.

"Hello!" Tremaine waved to attract the truckers' attention. He hoped this wasn't a mistake.

The truck rolled to a stop. The passenger got out, rifle pointing at the ground. The medium walked forward slower, hands raised in the air. He didn't want to cause problems when all he wanted was a ride to the next town with a phone to call for a bigger ride.

"My friend and I were wondering if we could get a ride to a town with a phone." Tremaine kept walking, but he sensed something was wrong. He could feel something from the back of the truck.

Something was dead back there.

He made a gesture for Croyd to stay back. He wanted to deal with this as neatly as possible. Restless spirits drifted closer, drawn by his power.

"I know this is an imposition, but it would be a big favor." Tremaine watched the men.

He was not surprised when the passenger turned his rifle on them, started pulling the trigger. That was about what he expected to be honest. Of course, he had two surprises of his own to play.

The first surprise was that Croyd Layton was a fast gun, as fast as any Tremaine had met in his old life. Before the man could pull the trigger all the way back, the former villain drew and fired two shots. One went into the rifle, breaking it apart. The other went into the passenger's hand.

The second surprise was Tremaine's own ability triggering an episode. The truck had been hauling dead animals in the back. Their spirits didn't like that. It was one thing to be killed for food. The various things that had been gutted and scavenged didn't understand intangibles like money.

Spirits ripped the back cover off the truck. They spilled over, pulling the metal skin off the truck as they went. The passenger tried to run, blood falling from his wounded hand. Angry ghosts dragged him to the ground, trying to rip him apart. The driver fell over in the seat, hands clutched over his head.

"I think that's enough." Tremaine drew his power back into himself, dousing it with a dose of reason. The spirits vanished sullenly as he watched.

"If you two want to live." Tremaine looked at the two men, cowering poachers. "I suggest you leave Africa as fast as possible. The animals don't like you."

The passenger got to his feet, sprinting to the battered truck to get in. He stopped when Layton waved at him with his pistol.

"Start walking." The gunslinger gestured with the revolver. "You should have thought about it before you did it."

The men froze at what he said. They looked at each other. The driver's hand dropped to the seat, reaching toward his belt.

Tremaine reached out for the still waiting animal spirits. A lion roared louder than any pride of lions that ever existed. The poachers started running from their haunted truck.

"That should hold them for a while." Tremaine watched the men run. "Then they'll forget. Then they'll be visited by their victims one more time."

"Do you really think they'll forget what you did?" Layton walked around the truck to get behind the wheel.

"They always do." Tremaine went to the back, pulling the cover aside so he could look over the tailgate.

A pile of skins and other things like rhino horns sat at the center of the bed. Most were old, but some had the fresh taint of blood on them. Tremaine shook his head. He reached in and pulled the dead things out on the ground. They were cursed now. No point in transmitting that curse across the land.

"Which way?" Layton started the engine as Tremaine swung into the passenger seat.

"Let's go this way." Tremaine looked at the fleeing hunters. "That's where they were going."

Layton put the big truck into first gear. He drove across the grass, trying to avoid the bigger bumps when he could. He tapped the gas gauge a couple of times with his finger.

"As soon as we reach a phone, we can call for help." Layton waved at the poachers as he drove by. "The Foundation will hopefully get us a plane back to the States."

Tremaine nodded. He hoped the delay would not hurt their chances of stopping Barton. The man warped reality around him. A second later would have killed them despite what the medium had done to block his trap.

It had been a near thing that had taken them out of the fight for the moment. Hopefully Blake and his friends could put up some kind of delay to keep things moving.

The world was on a knife's edge.

Layton drove as fast as he dared, hoping to be on the right track. He thought he saw something pacing the truck, but ignored it. He wouldn't bother it, and it wouldn't bother him.

Adam Blake found his assistants trailing a monster through the streets of Reagan City. He was glad that nothing had been hurt so far, but knew it was only a matter of time. He had found them by following the assassin he had marked.

Naturally he had allowed the man to stay free in the hopes of leading him to Vega.

The renegade master had much to answer for since escaping the tournament in Kwan Lee in China. Poisoning your rivals to win required a certain pound of flesh from the masters who had gone before.

Blake, as a former master, was responsible for returning him for trial if he caught up with the masked practitioner.

Blake decided against meeting his men. He wanted Vega to think he was out of the picture, perhaps still in Boston. He needed to send them a message somehow.

The mystery man found a vagabond a few blocks away. He wrote out a note, handed it over, and told the man there was a hundred in it if he could deliver the piece of paper while asking for change. The tramp readily agreed. Blake followed his new aide from a distance, and things seemed to go off without trouble. Morrigan handed over the money without comment before shooing the man away.

Morrigan read the words on the paper under the cover of his rented car door, holding it below the line of sight while he drove. He tossed it over to Twitch Twitchell at his side. The nervous man read the note with a slight bending of his head. He nodded.

Blake moved back, confident that the two could hand their end of things. Morrigan was deadly with his two guns, maybe not a match for a half trained Kwan Lee student, but still he was a wild card. Twitch had extremely good luck which let him cheat the odds.

Sometimes that's all you need.

Blake waited for his men to lead the pursuit away. The car turned and headed away from where they knew Nebiros to be. The assassins followed at a slower pace, walking on the sidewalk. They looked around, but seemed to miss the mystery man as he stood in the shadow of a trash can.

One problem distracted. Time to deal with the other one.

Blake took out his black box and activated it with the card he carried. He pressed the glowing screen with a finger. He smiled. Nebiros had decided to remain still at the moment. That gave him a chance to talk to the guardian.

Blake found a fire escape leading up to the roof of a small apartment building. He used the roof tops to cross to the building he really wanted. He found the guardian in a loft apartment looking up through the skylight. The mystery man crashed inside, landing in a ready posture.

Nebiros was too dangerous not to take seriously.

"We meet again, Tempus." Nebiros stirred, tail whipping behind him. "It will be good to settle with you before I return to my post."

"I am tracking Morgana and Red Barton." The mystery man's eyes lit from within. "That means I am on your side."

"I have no side." The stone demon shifted, broken grin lighting its reptilian face. "I only have my duty. You helped impose this on me. Don't expect any help in return for what you have inflicted on me."

"If there was some other way, I would have done things differently." Blake readied himself. "You were ravaging the countryside after the fall of the Round Table, and Morgana needed to be stopped somehow. It seemed like the perfect arrangement. A just punishment."

"I have spent untold years underground stuck in place." Nebiros tensed, his overlong arms stretching to the floor. "I don't think that was just at all."

"What would you have done?"

The demon charged, swinging its pipestem arms and bloated hands with talons on the ends of its four fingers. Blake faded back, reaching into his equipment vest. The killing claws missed him by a few inches. Very few men had survived trying to stop the stone monster when he rampaged in ancient times. The claws came again as the mystery man pulled out his weapon.

Nebiros drew back to swing again. Bright light erupted in his face, blinding his soup plate eyes. He staggered back, trying to take a few seconds to adjust. Something wrapped around him and pulled tight, holding his arms bent to his chest.

"This won't hold me, Tempus." The guardian tried to pull loose from the straitjacket.

"It will hold you long enough." Blake reached into his vest, already thinking of the next part of his plan.

Adam Blake pulled a tube out of his vest. He pointed it at the legs of the stone scaled Nebiros. He pressed the button on the side. White mist lanced from the tube, covering the legs. When it cleared, the guardian's limbs were a dead white.

"What have you done?" Nebiros struggled around the straitjacket, trying to get a good look at his cold appendages.

"If you make a sudden move, you will be three feet shorter." Blake held the tube ready at his side. The demon might be too stubborn to accept anything he said. That would be too bad for it.

"I know you want something, Tempus." Nebiros glared at the mystery man. "What is it?"

"I need to catch up with Morgana." Blake placed the tube back in its holder, hoping this was the beginning of an alliance that he could use. "You are the only one who can sense her anywhere she goes. I need that."

"What do I get out of it?" Nebiros wanted one thing. He wanted to be free and able to go anywhere instead of being locked away and forced to be jailed and the jailor.

"You get to go back to your tomb earlier." Blake's frozen face changed minutely at the best of times. "I am not going to release you out on the world again. That is out."

"I want a pardon, Tempus." Nebiros's ugly face seemed to pout around the exposed teeth in its massive jawbone. "Otherwise you might as well kill me and be done with it."

"I am not a magician." Blake's metallic eyes seemed to glow. "I cannot release you from your sentence. Merlin could, but he has been gone from Earth a long time."

"Surely you know someone who can do it." Nebiros looked at its legs. "You have passed through the ages as if by magic."

"No." Blake shook his head. "My dealings with you happened only ten years ago to me."

"I don't understand." The stony guardian's face indicated he thought he was being treated as a stupid human.

"I am not at liberty to tell you." Blake pulled out his black box and checked the screen for a moment.

"In any case, I want a pardon for any help I give you, Tempus." Nebiros knew this man as grim and relentless. He couldn't press far if he wanted to continue moving around.

"There is someone who might be able to break the spell." Blake put the box away. "Help me and I will help you."

"Your word on it?"

"My word is better than yours." Blake looked around the lair. "Do not make me regret this."

"A demon's word is his life." Nebiros held up one hand around the binding holding his arms to his chest. "I pledge to help you capture Morgana Le Fay in exchange for a pardon and release from my life as a tomb guardian."

"Then we are agreeing to this alliance." Blake pulled the binding away from the skinny arms, ready to move if the demon tried to catch him in its hook hands.

"Keep your word, and I will keep mine." Nebiros shook his arms, bending down to examine his white legs.

"They will thaw." Blake looked around, listening. "Which way is Morgana?"

"She is somewhere in that direction." The guardian pointed at a wall. "She has decided to keep on the move to evade me."

"She is also trying to avoid Barton." Blake leaped up, grasping the skylight handle, and swung himself on the roof. He looked out over Reagan City.

Blake pulled out a set of microbinoculars to enhance his almost preternatural vision. He looked in the direction that Nebiros pointed. Morgana must be using some kind of transportation to keep moving, and avoid capture by the various forces against her.

Blake saw a cab cut across his field of view as he examined the street. He couldn't see the passenger, but it gave him a thought. A cab would be perfect for Morgana to use as long as she kept her magic use at a minimum.

She had already shown she had grown adept at that.

The problem was he didn't have the time to search every taxi in town for the one he wanted.

Blake returned to the apartment. Nebiros gently bent its backward knees. It decided not to hop in case some part was still brittle.

"I have an idea." Blake checked his watch. "Come with me and we will see if I am on the right track."

"You think you know where my prey is?" Nebiros's strange face expressed curiosity and disbelief well enough.

"Not yet." Blake exited through the skylight again, waving at Nebiros to follow. He started across the roof tops, looking for a place central to the city. If Morgana was prowling the city, starting close to downtown should help locate her faster.

The two allies worked their way across Reagan City. The guardian's sense pointed them along in the same direction for the most part. Still the little burning he felt kept moving away from him.

She definitely had a car of some kind carrying her around the busy urban jungle.

Still, they were catching up. His pardon was closer than he expected. It would be nice to be free once more.

Adam Blake and Nebiros moved like twin wraiths, crossing from one building to another. The mystery man didn't express any doubts about their partnership. A demon's word was his bond. The guardian would find Morgana, and they would have to take her if they wanted to stop this escalating cycle.

They had lost Tremaine and Layton. There was no telling who else would get hurt if something wasn't done.

"She is there, Tempus." Nebiros pointed at a cleared lot. A woman got out of a cab and entered the gravel yard. "Our quest is done."

"Wait." Blake held up his hand. "We want Barton to show up too. Then we can stop them both."

Nebiros settled on his haunches, looking around. He sniffed the air. He pointed with a taloned finger.

Shadows drifted in on a rooftop across the way. They seemed intent on the woman in the lot. Blake focused his binoculars on them. One of the men held a tablet in his hands while the others waited to attack.

"Your minions are here also, Tempus." Nebiros pointed to a car rolling to a stop below.

Blake scanned the other roofs around the lot. He didn't see any other arrivals. Where were Vega and Barton?

"Get ready." Blake put his spyglasses away. "Barton is sure to show up, trying to surprise us. I will stop Vega's students from getting in the way. As soon as you see Barton arrive, stop him and Morgana from getting away."

Nebiros nodded before padding away. He hopped to a closer building so he could leap down on Morgana from above. Surprise should help accomplish their plan. Then freedom was his.

Blake moved in the other direction. Once he had disabled the students, he would only have to worry about Vega and Barton. Cutting down the odds seemed like a good idea to him.

Blake landed gently on the roof where the students were. None of them turned at his approach. They had been trained but not enough. He dropped the closest two to him with the sides of his hands.

The group noticed that.

They turned as one, the man with the tablet moving to get away from Blake's reach. The mystery man moved, using one man as a battering ram to clear the way. He caught the man guarding the tablet by the neck as he was leaping away from the battle. The other hand snatched the clay block while the man of the future slammed his hapless opponent to the roof.

Vega had sent ten men to the rooftop. Four were down for the moment. The other six decided that weapons were the way to go. Shining ribbons whisked the air as they advanced on the mystery man.

Vega hadn't warned his students about Blake's arsenal.

Blake reached into his equipment vest as he walked toward the students. They charged, hoping their high speed attack would slice him apart. He dropped smoke bombs to the ground, flooding the area with darkness. There was a sound like a whirlwind inside the thick cloud, then silence.

When the smoke cleared, Blake had vanished, leaving behind sleeping enemies.

Nebiros didn't watch the confrontation on the other roof. His glowing eyes were on Morgana Le Fay marking out her circle. A small current buzzed against his skin. The power she hoped to harness must be arriving soon.

Almost time for him to do what he had to do.

Nebiros tensed, ready to jump down to street level. Blake's lackeys rushed the yard, weapons drawn. Morgana turned to deal with them, magic rising. Barton and his masked lackey appeared, the lackey grabbing the sorcereress by the neck and putting her down. Blake's grinning henchman fired both of his pistols. Barton stepped in the circle, deflecting the bullets with a wave of his hand.

Nebiros jumped.

Barton had stepped inside Le Fay's circle. Obviously he was going to take the power from the line she was trying to use. If he did that, he might move beyond human means to stop him. Nebiros couldn't allow that to happen.

The stone guardian landed with a crunch. Barton turned, firing a blast of mystical energy. The demon smiled, leaping forward. The beam hit its stone skin and shattered into fragments. A clawed hand sliced across the magic thief's chest, sending him out of the circle.

Nebiros noted the lack of blood as he leaped to follow up on his attack. Barton had already taken enough power that he was almost removed from humanity.

Vega got in front of Nebiros, hands ready to protect his employer.

Cully Morrigan reloaded both of his pistols as he considered options. Things were about to be messy. He didn't mind as long as he was making the mess. Unhappily it looked like he was the one going home in a bag.

He wondered if it could be worse.

He knew what he had to do. The hard part was doing it.

Cully headed for the woman. He knew better to waste bullets on Nebiros and Vega. Both were bulletproof in their own ways. Barton on the other hand looked stunned by the violent attack he had already suffered. The grinning man let him have a full magazine of holes as he grabbed Morgana by the arm.

I hope this isn't a mistake.

"Come on while they're fighting over which one gets you." Cully put the empty gun away as he pulled on the ancient sorceress. The look on her face was enough to convince him she had pulled down a kingdom out of spite.

Still she got to her feet, and followed his pull.

Twitch Twitchell stood beside the two, firing controlled bullets as he waited for them to pass to the car. He backed up, watching as Vega tried to keep Nebiros back. His bullets kept the renegade master from rushing the car while still trying to hold the demon in place.

"I won't let you take me back to England." Morgana huddled by the back end of the car. "I won't go back in that hole."

"Lady, I'm trying to stop a bigger menace from destroying the Earth." Cully got behind the wheel. "I can't believe I just said that."

Twitch opened the door for her, still keeping watch on the fight in the yard. As soon as Morgana was in the seat, he slid in behind her.

"Get us out of here." Twitch reloaded his revolver. "They might try to take us apart next."

Cully nodded, pulling away from the curb. Barton had taken a couple of big hits. The ex-hijacker knew that wouldn't keep the madman down. He had been changed somehow by taking Morgana's energy like he had.

"He's on his feet, Cully." Twitch closed the wheel on his revolver. "I hope you have something that can help us, lady."

"He's more than I can handle." Morgana raised her hand. "Drive faster."

Cully poured on the speed, looking in the mirror. He didn't like the way Barton ran out in the street behind them. A column of light spilled over the magic thief, distracting him long enough for Morrigan to turn a corner.

"The circle was wasted." Morgana collapsed in the back seat. "I could have used that boost."

"If he catches us, you won't regret missed chances for long, sister." Cully kept his eyes on the road ahead, knowing he only had one full pistol and one reload.

Something banged on the door. It opened and closed before either of Blake's assistants could react. The mystery man looked at the occupants of the car with his usual wooden features.

"Well done." Blake's green eyes burned with an inner light.

"I don't want to return to my cage, Tempus." Morgana raised her hand, eldritch fire covering her fingers.

"Neither does Nebiros." Blake didn't make a move. "I am willing to discuss a parole if you fix what you have done wrong since leaving the tomb."

"A parole?" Morgana paused, considering what he had said.

"In return I want you to help me stop Barton from taking the rest of your power, and return the books you stole from the Diana Foundation." Blake waited patiently as the car continued to roll.

"I agree." Morgana let the fire fade from around her hand. At one point, she could have dealt with all three men with a flick of her finger. She doubted if she could stop Tempus by himself now with the little remainder that she possessed.

"Circle the block, Mr. Morrigan."

"What?" came from three voices.

"We have to make sure Nebiros is all right." Blake ignored the look on their faces. "We cannot expect him to help us if we do not help him."

Morrigan took the next turn and circled back to the yard. He put his loaded pistol next to him so he could have it ready to use. He wondered why he had bothered to bring the twin colts along in the first place.

There was no one involved in this mess he could reliably shoot and hurt.

The car rolled up to the yard. Nebiros stood alone, casting about for a scent. His bony teeth clacked into a grin when he saw who was getting out of the car. His parole seemed assured now that the treacherous Morgana Le Fay was in custody.

"We are going to the next nexus point in the hopes of trapping Barton and Vega." Blake's voice brooked no disagreement. "We need you to help us."

"That sounds like something I would like to do." Parts of Nebiros's stony hide appeared fragmented. "I wish to get my hands on Barton and his lackey."

"Come with us and I will see what can be done."

Lazarus Tremaine took a deep breath, happy to have reached an airport. He couldn't really call it an airport but planes came in to refuel before heading off to other parts of the continent. A buzz in the air told him another light aircraft was coming in for a landing.

Soon he would be back in the States, trying to save the world.

"I called Boston." Croyd Layton watched the people loitering alongside the flat stretch of ground that constituted a runway. "No word from Blake."

"I didn't think there would be." Tremaine kept his eyes on the inbound plane. "He won't call until he gets the job done. He probably thinks we're dead."

"We're going to have to catch up." Layton wondered how his colleague could stand there in the hot sun and not sweat. "Foundation spotters placed him in Reagan City, heading west."

"If we can reach a bigger airport, we can board a plane to the West Coast." Tremaine smiled. "We can head them off at the pass."

"The Foundation can get us on a connection when we reach Egypt." Layton wiped sweat from his brow.

The plane came down, bumping along on the flat strip before settling to a stop. The pilot kicked the door open, dropping out from behind the stick. The single engine slowed until the propellor stopped completely.

The pilot looked around, spotted the two of them approaching, and waved. He pushed back a cap, sunglasses glinting in the hard sun. Layton said nothing about the pistol in his belt. Flying for the Foundation in places without indoor plumbing couldn't be safe.

"I'm Costner." The pilot smiled with razor thin lips. "I'm supposed to ferry you two to civilization."

"I'm Layton." Croyd indicated himself, then Tremaine. "This is Tremaine. How soon until we can get in the air?"

"I have to refuel, get something to eat. Say a couple hours." Costner raised his eyebrows. "How did you guys get stuck out here?"

"We got lost looking for someone who hates us." Layton looked around. "Have to get fuel yourself?"

"Yep." Costner led the way across the strip, to his plane. He started pushing it to where a set of drums sat. "The Foundation has us ferrying people in and out the Sahara, some kind of expedition there. That's how I happened to be so close when you called. We keep fuel for our planes along our projected flight aisles. This shouldn't take too long to top off."

"Let us help you." Tremaine walked around to the other wing and began pushing. "There was an emergency situation going on when we were called away. The quicker we are, the faster we can find out if the problem has been fixed."

Layton joined in and soon the plane rested next to a pyramid of drums. Costner took out a pump, and hooked one end to a fuel drum, the other to the plane's gas tank. He worked the handle, listening to the fuel roll through the rubber hose as he moved his arms. He stopped when the liquid backwashed out of the pipe. The pilot took the pump apart and stowed it away in his plane until he needed it again. The cap went back on the drum to keep things out of it while it waited for the next plane.

"Let me eat my lunch and we can get out of here." Costner brushed off his hands and headed for a bar/diner/hotel set up so foreigners had something they thought of as civilized before moving on.

"Looks like we have to wait a little bit longer." Layton followed the pilot. "Hopefully eating won't be much of a slowdown."

Tremaine looked at the horizon. This place reminded him of his youth. He could hear the screams of the men he shot, sounds of gunfire, and the beating of hooves. Burning flesh drifted to his nose as he remembered Scratch and the fire that had killed him temporarily.

He shook off the feeling, and followed Layton. He had been given a second chance to make things better. He was going to do that.

The two waited patiently while Costner ate. They had already had a meal while trying to get in touch with Jerry Adama in Boston. Costner paid his bill, keeping the receipt before leading them back to the plane.

"We should make the coast in a few hours." Costner got behind the wheel, after checking his small plane out. "Then we can land at one of the resorts and send you home."

"That's great." Layton got in the back seat. As small as the plane was, if they crashed the back half would fold into the front like an accordion. That bothered Layton a little.

Tremaine got in the front passenger seat. He kept his hands from the controls. He had learned a lot about the modern world, but not how to pilot an airplane.

The plane taxied on the runway, roared to the end, and took to the air. Layton's stomach tried to flip flop inside him as he tried to keep from pushing through the back seat. They straightened up and he felt better as they roared through the air with the buzzing of a million angry bees.

Tremaine pulled his hat low, and tried to catch up on some sleep. He had a list of things to do before he did catch up with Red Barton. Getting some sleep would give that extra bit of strength he would need when he and Barton were looking each other in the eye again.

He planned to put Barton back in the ground where he belonged.

The plane sliced through the sky like a silver bird. The ground swept by underneath in shades of brown. They were finally back on track.

Adam Blake glanced over the strange group he had assembled at the small airport outside of Old Troy, California. They looked ready for the events that were about to play out. His biggest worry was having Barton second guess him, and winning the day.

His job was to protect the planet at all costs. He couldn't afford to lose.

"Everyone know the plan?" Blake looked around again. Everyone nodded. "All right, be careful, and watch out for each other. We cannot afford to lose."

The group dispersed until only Blake and Morgana was left. She watched her temporary colleagues start with their parts of the mission until they were gone. Blake crossed to a car he had rented until they were done.

"Are you sure your plan will work?" Morgana got in the car. She had thought about placing a glamor on him so she could be free, but resisted the urge. The old Tempus had been very willful, and that was the only thing that seemed not to have changed about the man.

"No." Blake started the car and pulled out of the hangar. He waved at Cap Carrington and Tank Messer checking over a helicopter as he drove by. "Barton has command of magic, and he can use it to short circuit our plans if he is able to divine what we are doing. Vega has been trained and that makes him a threat and perfect bodyguard for Barton. Additionally Vega's students are more capable than I like."

"So I could lose all my magic, instead of just a large part." Morgana looked out the window. "That doesn't seem right."

"I would not worry about losing your magic." Blake kept his eyes on the road. "Barton plans to kill you once he has your reserve. He is the immortal now."

"So the defender of Camelot is trying to save the witch who destroyed it?" Morgana didn't smile at the comment. "Something ironic there."

"It is a living." Blake pulled through the gate, and headed for town. "Let us find our spot and mark it. We want Barton to think we are still following your plan to give you more power to fight him."

"He'll see the different markings for the ritual." The circle was the same but a trap required different symbols than the gathering she had wanted to cast. "He won't be fooled."

"He only needs to be fooled for the few seconds you will need to finish the spell." Blake had gone over this before. He hoped fear wouldn't overcome experience and training. "I will not lie. This could be deadly if we do not do things just right."

Morgana nodded. She took out the crystal Blake had secured for her. A glow rolled to one end. She moved the crystal around. The glow pointed in one direction.

"North please." Morgana put the crystal away. It was possible that little use of magic had already shown Barton where she was.

An hour passed but Morgana led them to a spot close to a manhole. Then they descended below the city into a maze of tunnels. A few minutes more searching took them to a large chamber already marked with various symbols.

"I can't believe this." Morgana looked around. "This is a beacon for what I need. It must attract supernatural energy from across the region."

"Can we use it to set our trap?" Blake examined the markings, happy they were ancient.

"That and so much more." Morgana laughed with the flakes of feeling running along her skin.

"One thing at a time." Blake took one more look around. "I am going to examine the rest of the rooms. How long will it be before you are ready?"

"I can make the trap markings in a few minutes." Morgana pulled out a piece of chalk from her pants pocket. "The line won't cross here for a few hours at least."

"That is how long we have to get ready before Barton arrives to finish you off." Blake vanished from the room.

Morgana looked at the flashlight hanging on the wall for a second. Then she started adding her own lines to the floor.

"I wish he hadn't said that."

Morgana Le Fay waited under the light from the flashlight. The underground chamber made her feel stronger. She could do a miracle if she stored enough of the ambient flow pooling around her.

She had to live long enough to think about doing that.

Tempus was right about one thing. Barton never intended to let her live once he had the rest of her power. Her knowledge was just as dangerous to him as her ability to work magic.

The tide came on, filling her with power. Her diagram on the floor glowed, the chalk smoking as it fought to contain the energy she was harnessing. It was a bit like trying to ride a wild horse. It would throw her unless she could hold on until it was tired out. The witch didn't know if she could hold on that long.

The chamber's magnifying effect also worried her. She didn't want to kill herself trying to trap the madman stalking her. She wanted to live, see the world some more. A lot of things had changed since she had been locked away in the dark.

"Alone at last." Barton's voice existed before the rest of him. "It's about time we had this little talk."

"I'm tired of your pursuit." Morgana raised her hand. "I didn't know you until you raised me in my cell."

"You knew my ancestors." Barton smiled quietly, trenchcoat flapping around his customary shabby gray suit. "That's how I knew where you were buried. Family secrets. The Foundation allowed me access to other things that made the transfer of power easier."

"Centuries are a long time to hold a grudge." Morgana backed up, wondering when Tempus was going to make his entrance.

"This isn't about revenge." Barton stepped forward. "You were just first on my list because you were the easiest to deal with in my estimation. I didn't count on Blake turning the tables at the last moment."

"It hasn't stopped your scheme." Morgana felt the power coursing through her. A little more and she could throw the door on this upstart. "You've chased me across this continent to steal what little I have left."

"And I will have it, grandmother." Barton stepped forward again. Light seeped from his eyes. "No more chasing, no more tricks."

"One more."

Morgana unleashed her spell, glad to let the magic dam open. The diagram rolled on the stone floor. Barton recognized the trap, moved to counter it with his own power. Their wills battled for precious minutes. The diagram opened, something it should not have done.

"If I'm going, I'm taking you with me." Barton gestured, drawing her closer. A vortex streaked around his feet.

Nebiros appeared in the doorway, Vega clutched in one fist. It threw the masked martial artist against the wall as it ran to Morgana's side. Blake was two steps behind the guardian. They grabbed the sorcereress to keep her out of the circle.

"You can't stop me, Blake." Barton's eyes were funnels of hot light. "I will have what's mine."

Blake pushed Nebiros away. The move surprised the bigger monster. It fell over, caught off balance by the betrayal. Blake leaped into the circle, Morgana in his arms. The drawing closed behind them.

"Time says differently."

A spinning wall of blue streaks surrounded the three. It sank into the ground. When it was gone, so was the enemies. Nebiros howled in fury. It looked around for something to bash. Vega had escaped while it was distracted. It howled even louder.

Nebiros felt empty. It had been bound to Morgana for so long. Now it could not feel her anymore.

Wait.

Nebiros smiled. That old feeling was back. Morgana was alive. That meant parole was still in its reach. Freedom could still be won. Blake's lackeys would know how to get there fastest in this modern day.

Nebiros turned and headed for the entrance to the underworld. Honesty had gotten it close to what it wanted. There was no need to change now.

If the henchmen didn't help, Nebiros had already decided to swim, or hitch a ride on anything it could find going where it wanted.

Everything had gone so well to that last few moments. Trust Blake to ruin things for those involved. That hadn't changed at all.

Vega moved silently along the tunnels under Old Troy. Blake and that hulking monster had ambushed him near perfectly. It was time for him to cut his losses.

The renegade master found a manhole. He climbed up, looked around, and picked a direction at random. His sharp eyes examined everything from behind his featureless mask. It had been white, but now it was covered with blood, offal, and other unknown substances. He needed to clean up and look for a way to get back to Spain.

Barton was obsessed with the idea of gaining more power. That made him a threat to any who came into contact with him. And Vega had learned to avoid any threat a long time ago.

Vega pulled off his mask. He found a hydrant. A few minutes of work polished the wooden protector into a glowing reflection of his own face. That was better.

Vega sealed the hydrant up before walking away. He still had problems. He needed to gather his followers, then find a way across the ocean. Then he would have to prepare for Barton to arrive to try to get revenge. He was done with this tour of the world trying to capture the slippery witch's powers.

Vega climbed to the highest tower in Old Troy. He looked out over the city, listening for the bird call he had taught his students. He heard it, zeroed in on the repeated tone. Then he leaped along the roof tops, heading for the source of the signal.

Once he had his followers together, he would work on transportation.

Vega appeared silently in front of his assembled followers. They were startled but quickly recovered their composure. He had taught them well.

"We will pick up flying transportation." Vega looked around. "Then we will go home. I've had enough of this."

His followers nodded, considering the implications without commenting. That might get someone killed questioning the master.

Vega turned, scaling the front of an alley wall. He turned, heading toward the sound of airplanes. He flickered as he moved along. His students were not as fast, or sure footed, as he was, but they were moving as fast as a horse's gallop.

Minutes later, the terminal to the local facility came into view. Vega paused to examine the layout. He had kept up with the modern world as far as transportation went. Most masters were content to walk everywhere they had to go. In his case, he had to answer calls from around the world as fast as possible.

Assassins were valuable commodities to those who had enough money to pay to see someone dead.

"We will take a plane and have it fly us to France." Vega looked over the runways and hangars, nodding when he saw a vehicle that could do what he wanted. "We will crash it to hide the evidence of what we have done."

"Can I suggest an idea?" One of the younger students stepped forward, head bowed. "I believe that we can secure funds and buy legitimate tickets back home."

"I'm listening." Vega regarded his pupil, green warring with brown in his eyes.

"There is a financial institution not far from here." The pupil pointed at an angle away from the airport. "I believe that we can take funds from it to buy tickets. We would need to work fast to avoid confrontation with the law but I believe it can be done."

"Do it." Vega waved his hand in dismissal. He had never thought of using his abilities for simple theft.

The students leaped from the roof in what looked like slow motion to Vega. He barely heard them as they crept away. He waited patiently until he heard the first one return with a sack of money in his hand.

"Success, sir." The student smiled. "We have enough money to buy passage without attracting attention."

"You have done well." Vega nodded in satisfaction. "Secure tickets for us and we will be on our way."

He didn't add his feeling that he should never have listened to Barton in the first place.

The apprentice masters leaped from the building. They had secured clothing to blend in when they had first arrived in America. The only obstacle that might be more than minor was customs when they arrived in Spain. All they had to do was buy eleven tickets and wait for a flight.

Vega didn't voice his thoughts of Barton wanting revenge if he did win Morgana Le Fay's power.

Lazarus Tremaine was glad for the borrowed clothes, and a chance to clean up. He looked out the window of the plane, glad to be going home again.

Maybe not home exactly.

Tremaine wondered how things had been going. The Foundation had located Blake in California. That was where he and Layton were headed. They had to find out what was going on.

He had been taken out of the action for a little bit but he still had a part to play. He could feel it. Fragments of the future were pulling him.

Tremaine finally drifted into sleep, still looking forward. His dreams were untroubled at the moment by the cataclysmic war that could be. Instead he walked among people he had met sometime and didn't quite remember now as they played in a big grass field, picnicked, and told him things that he didn't quite hear. The airplane jolting to a landing woke him up.

"Let's find Blake and see if he made any progress." Layton headed for the passenger door almost before it could be thrown open.

Tremaine followed silently, taking a minute to look at the city before he started down the small step ladder. It tugged at him. This was the place he had looked for in his wanderings. This was where he was going to settle down when he did.

He could feel it, feel the future settling in a new pattern with that decision.

The local Foundation chapter had marked a hangar at the airport because it was rented by Blake's organization. Layton checked his note, then led the way across the tarmac to the steel fabricated building. The group inside the building was as motley as anything he had seen, but at least he knew some of them.

"How's it going?," Layton called out, making sure to keep his hands in plain sight.

"Not good." Cully Morrigan put his pistol away, squinting at the newcomers.

"How bad is not good?" Layton didn't like the looks of what he was seeing.

"We lost Blake, Barton, and Morgana." Morrigan looked down at his feet. "We're trying to decide how to get to them. The big palooka says they are west of us somewhere."

"They are west of us." Nebiros hunched forward, long tail whipping slightly as he moved.

Layton almost went for his own pistol at the sight of that. The last time they had met had been a battle under the ground. A restraining hand on his arm stopped him before he could complete the draw.

"The problem is we have to get a plane big enough so we can haul Nebiros around so we know we're going in the right direction." Twitch Twitchell drank some of his coke. "Cap is on the phone right now trying to get us something."

"I just got off a plane from that direction." Layton groaned.

"What happened to you two anyway?" Cully glared at them. "Blake said you vanished on him."

"Barton tried to kill us, but we lucked out and it sent us to Africa instead. We had to walk until we found a car to drive. I called some Foundation people to arrange for a ride back to the States." Layton showed off his mildly sunburned hands.

"All right, guys." Cap Carrington came out of the hangar office at the back of the building, adjusting his captain's hat. "I found something that might work out. I had to estimate weight for the big guy but I think it's doable. I'm going to drive over and look at it. If it looks good, I'll bring it back and we can head out west."

"We're ready to go." Morrigan gestured at the boxes on the floor.

"What about Vega?" Tremaine kept his distance from Nebiros, regarding it with the possibility that it would turn into a ferocious beast at any moment.

"We think his group flew back to Spain." Twitch looked around for confirmation from the others. "We had a tracer on one of his guys, and the thing boarded a plane and flew out early this morning. We checked, and the only flights were to Europe. We know Vega lives in Spain somewhere. So two and two means he didn't like what Nebiros put on him."

The others didn't look convinced but Nebiros was smiling at some memory so at least the battle between Nebiros and Vega had to be partially real.

"Very few humans are a match for me." The demon seemed to preen.

"I'm getting the plane." Carrington said, heading for the car. "I'll bring it back if it works out."

"Twitch, go with him so you can bring the car back." Morrigan lit a cigarette shaken from a bent pack. "We'll have to turn all these rentals in before we leave."

The thinner man nodded, hurrying after the pilot.

The group waited, going over maps of the region they were about to visit. Layton called the Foundation, alerting them to the possibility of trouble in the Pacific and to be on the lookout. Without a precise location, he couldn't send Blake any help.

Somehow he didn't think the mystery man was at as much of a loss as anyone else would be. He seemed comfortable dealing with craziness that would stop ordinary men.

A plane rolled to a stop outside the hangar while they were contemplating food. Cap waved from the pilot's window. Cully grabbed some of the boxes under one arm and carried them over to the side of the plane. The rest were divvied up by the others.

No way were they leaving this much useful stuff behind.

Adam Blake stumbled out of blackness, alert and ready to fight. Morgana Le Fay followed, hair smelling burnt. He held her on her feet while he waited for Barton. He relaxed when the renegade didn't appear.

"We are safe for the moment." He looked around. "It appears we are in the Pacific somewhere."

"How can you be sure?" Morgana looked around. "It looks the same to me."

"Certain species are only found in certain places." Blake pointed at a tree. "That tree only grows in Australia."

"Where's Barton?" Morgana looked around, worry coloring her expression.

"I have no idea." Blake looked around. "I think we should get moving so we are not caught unawares."

Morgana nodded. Their trap had been working until Barton had smashed it open with brute strength. They had been caught on a current and sent across the world in an instant. They had to keep moving if they didn't want their effort to backfire.

"Do you think we hurt him?" Morgana was afraid to use any magic. That might draw Barton back quicker than anything else she could do.

"I hope so." Blake led the way, pulling his black box out of his vest. He activated it with the green card. A moment's study of the screen on top told him where they were. He put the box away after cutting it off. "We are not far away from Sydney. If we hurry, we can get to the city limits before dark."

"We can't beat him, can we?" Morgana moved, already thinking about how to slip away when her ally was distracted.

"We need to keep moving." Blake's wooden face hid his thoughts on the subject. "Our trap did not work as we intended, but it did serve to slow him down until we can find something else we can use."

"There are modern magicians in this world." Morgana had heard about some of them during her travels. "Maybe we should call one of them."

"Barton would kill anyone we brought in." Blake didn't say he wouldn't consider the idea. "Still we might have to use that as a last resort."

"He'll kill us if we can't stop him." Morgana shook her head. "I hope you have considered that."

"He will take over the world." Blake glanced at his companion. "Our deaths are small compared to that."

"So we stand."

"Until we are killed." Only Blake's metallic eyes burning in their sockets betrayed the fact he expected to win. "Still we may have given Barton a wound he needs to recover from before he can come after us again."

"You were always optimistic, Tempus." Morgana smiled.

The two companions walked until they were able to hitch a ride. The truck driver dropped them off at the edge of Sydney. He went on to a shipping depot while his passengers walked the rest of the way into town.

Blake checked them into a small hotel. He made a few calls while he waited. He couldn't do everything. Sometimes he couldn't do anything. He had to wait and react to unknown danger.

He preferred to act on something whether than wait.

Morgana went to her room and luxuriated in the bath until she felt better. A clean dress and underclothes arrived from room service. She guessed that Tempus was still looking after her. He had always seemed strange when she had known him before her imprisonment.

That much hadn't changed at least.

Morgana dressed and went looking for her ally. He had arranged for a new suit for himself to wear over his vest. He waited by the phone.

"Any news?" Morgana sat down in one of the soft, cushy chairs provided by the hotel.

"Yes." Blake stood. "I am waiting for a call back from the airport."

Morgana raised her eyebrows.

"We are gathering our forces. Tremaine and Layton are arriving from Africa, and the rest are flying in from America. Nebiros is still with them, honoring our deal."

"Demons do keep their word," Morgana said. "That's the only thing they're good for."

Red Barton blinked. He raised his hands so he could examine them. He didn't like the way they had faded to transparent wisps. He supposed he had been lucky to survive the circle.

Barton concentrated. A small portion of his energy swept through his now immortal body. His hands solidified as the glow from his heart reached his fingertips. He flexed the appendages, smiling as his knuckles crackled slightly.

That felt better.

Barton looked around, not quite sure where he had ended up. It was dark, with water dripping echoing to his right, the air chilling his skin. He must be underground somewhere. Some kind of cave sprang to mind.

The magic thief raised his hand. A light cast long shadows around him as it floated by his fingers. He pushed it ahead so he could find his way. The ball confirmed he was underground somewhere.

Barton looked up, then took to the air. The stone allowed him to pass through without complaint. He reached the surface and stopped to examine the stars above. They would tell him where on Earth he was.

Barton estimated he stood somewhere in the Pacific, somewhere close to Australia. He looked around. He frowned at what he saw.

A beach swept along, glittering against the backdrop of a moving ocean. Trees reached for the sky opposite the whispering water. A volcanic peak rose beyond the leafy jungles.

What he saw promised him that he was the only human in miles.

Barton concentrated on the familiar glow of Morgana Le Fay's aura. It was far off to the west. He had a direction of travel now. It was time to leave this place behind and fulfill his destiny. The ancient witch had forestalled him long enough.

Barton concentrated. His body faded from view as he thought about the Hotel Hyperion in Melbourne. He appeared in the lobby a few seconds later. He cast about with his mystic senses. Morgana was close, but not near as close as he wanted.

She had cut her use of magic again.

Barton sat down in a plush, red upholstered hotel chair as he thought. He needed to locate Vega and summon him to Australia to help locate the hiding Le Fay and her protector. The assassin didn't have the ability to cloak his presence the same way as Arthur's half-sister did.

He wondered if Vega had eliminated any of Blake's men. That would help them a little. The only good sidekick was a dead sidekick.

Barton expurgated a glowing square to look into. He was not pleased to see his assistant had decided to flee the United States without orders. Evidently Vega had decided to renege on their arrangement.

That was a decision he would regret.

Barton took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He took another. Then he spoke, sending his words winging across the ether.

"Vega, come to Melbourne as soon as you can. I am expecting you to be here."

The renegade smiled as the Vega in his vision jumped at the sound of his voice appearing out of the air.

"I am watching you. Don't let me down."

Barton let the vision fade to nothing. He would check to see if he was being obeyed later. Now he had to narrow his search for his intended victim to an acceptable limit. His powers were vast, but even he couldn't search a continent for someone with talent hiding from him in the short amount of time he had left before Morgana tried to bolster her power again.

Barton faced east, closed his eyes, and thought. Bright sparks showed him other talents were there, some brighter than the one he wanted. He would find time for them later. His search drifted to a stop over Sydney.

That's where he needed to be.

Barton walked, each step miles long. He kept the silver glow uppermost in his mind as he approached the coastal city. He didn't have an exact fix on her, but he didn't have to this time.

Morgana was still with Adam Blake, Tempus, whomever he really was. His mind stood out in the clutter that surrounded them. The mystery man seemed to be wandering town, but Barton had a sense of his location as he moved around.

"Vega. Come to Sydney. Blake is waiting for us there." Barton sent the message with a smile.

The battle was reaching an end.

Morgana Le Fay stood at the back of the hangar watching the men milling around as they made plans. They were a strange lot, knights in a world that said those times were long pass. If they weren't two-edged swords, she could like being among them in this modern era.

The peace offered by Blake was a fragile thing.

Blake and Morgana had prepared a place for the group to assemble. Tremaine and Layton had arrived from the west, flying in from Hong Kong after hours traveling from Africa of all places. The man in black seemed unaffected by the changing time zones as he and Blake talked off to one side while the man from the Diana Foundation spent a few hours on a cot.

The others had arrived from the Pacific. Introductions had been given and a period of clean up while Blake gathered information with the phone. His wooden expression never changed but the witch sensed he was happy with what he had been told.

"Gentlemen, a group matching Vega's known forces is flying to Sydney in about an hour." Blake put a picture of the airport where they were meeting up. "You know these fighters are dangerous to handle and trained in the Kwan Lee traditions. We will have to take them by surprise and take them captive. Once we do that, Barton will be forced to try and stop us on his own or waste time trying to recruit more lackeys to deal with us."

"Barton will draw back unless he is caught in our attempt." Nebiros hunched by Carrington's plane, rows of needle teeth flashing. "He won't battle us unless everything is in his favor. He's a coward."

"I'm with the monkey." Cully Morrigan tipped his hat back. "Barton won't come near us if we take his mob before he tries for Morgana."

Nebiros growled softly at the former hijacker.

"I hope to cause a big enough distraction for Barton that he will be too busy to save Vega, and vice versa." Blake checked his watch. "We cannot keep flitting across the earth trying to trap him while preventing him from stealing the rest of Morgana's power. Eventually we will lose one of these encounters, and our chance."

"What's the distraction, Chief?" Twitch Twitchell vibrated by the door, skinny frame giving his clothes a scarecrow appearance.

"Nebiros and Tremaine will be protecting Morgana while she pretends to use a power tapping spell." A mark on the map placed the three of them in the hangar. "The rest of us will deal with Vega."

"What happens if neither show?" Layton had pointed out the one flaw in the plan.

"Then we wait until they do in the hope that we catch them before they can attack us." Blake's eyes went over the group. "We have to face them on a battleground of our choosing if we want to draw them in close enough to stop them."

"We're ready, Tempus." Nebiros eyed the assemblage, face unreadable. "Barton will be stopped. Then you will carry out your part of our agreement."

"My word is good." Blake nodded. "Let us get to our places."

The men broke up as Blake reached into his vest and pulled out a device that looked like a black compass. He handed it to Tremaine as the medium gathered his group together. The cowboy looked at the instrument with raised eyebrows.

"If the arrow reaches four, Barton is in the immediate area." Blake showed him a button on the bottom of the round casing. "This will send a signal to me that you need help."

"We'll feel him coming." Tremaine placed the compass in his pocket. "Don't worry about us. I think the three of us have enough dirty tricks between us to deal with our magic friend."

"It is a last resort." Blake nodded at the two enemies helping him. "Barton has proven adept at slipping the noose."

"He won't get away." Nebiros scratched his rock scale chest. "You can trust us on that, Tempus."

Blake nodded before turning away. His group had to be ready for the assassins when they landed across the airport. He hoped his stratagem wouldn't get any of his men killed. Half-trained adepts could still maim with the flick of their fingers.

Morgana watched him go, relief tracing her features until she thought about what came next. Barton had chased her far enough. It was time for the fox to turn and fight.

And she still had a few tricks that would serve her well.

"I think Barton will make his play when he can get his bully boys in place." Tremaine looked around. "I think the plane will be a good place for Nebiros to hide."

"Nebiros doesn't hide." The behemoth looked down on his comrade in arms. "He waits patiently until his prey is close enough to be taken and rended."

"And the plane will be good for that, right?" Tremaine pushed his hat back.

"I agree, mortal." The guardian stomped away.

"Time to start on my circle making." Morgana pulled out a piece of chalk as Tremaine seemed to vanish in the shadows.

Vega and his henchmen deplaned with anger and fear on their faces. They had already suffered humiliating defeats confronting this Blake and his assistants. Rest and regrouping would be better than confronting him again after a plane ride with no sleep.

Vega hoped this would conclude his deal with Barton. More and more, he had a sense the magician planned to betray his fledgling league when he had what he wanted from the woman.

Blake, the nameless master, was the first step. If he was eliminated, his group would fall easily to the blade. None of them had any training as far as Vega had seen. That made them sitting ducks.

Vega stopped when he saw the man in brown standing in front of the exit. Green eyes met in challenge and hate. Blake was here.

"Stay back." Vega advanced ahead of his men, keen eyes and ears watching for the mystery man's entourage.

"I would like for you to turn around and return to your home without any need for struggle." Blake's rigid face matched the mask Vega had in his bag. "There need be no more strife today."

"Promises have been exchanged." Vega reached into his bag, grabbing the edge of his face mask. "We had hoped to not meet you again, but Barton wants the woman no matter what."

"This is the last chance." Blake's hands rested on his hips. "Turn around and walk away."

"You turn and clear out of our path." Vega pulled on the mask with one smooth flip. Something was going on. Where were the others? "Spread out and find those men and get rid of them."

The students jumped to obey. No ordinary man was a match for their fighting skills.

Blake advanced. His hands drifted near his vest. Vega could tell they were empty by the way he held them. The masked killer gestured. A sword seemed to appear out of nowhere, a ribbon of light circling in his hand.

"I have a job to do." Vega advanced, sword whirling in front of him. "I can't escape my promise."

"Neither can I." Blake's eyes glowed with an inner light, brightening their normal emerald hardness.

Vega's sword sang as it sliced the air. All weapons were extensions of a trained fighter's limbs. The shining steel shone as it reached for the mystery man with a singular blood thirst to match the beauty of it cutting the space between them. The nameless master moved away from the point, waiting for the right moment. The assassin pressed in, wanting a victory to reinforce flagging morale.

Blake snatched a black tube from one of the many pockets on his vest. He kept out of the circling radius of the sword blade, waiting for the right chance to attack. Vega overextended trying to drive his opponent against a wall. The Man of Tomorrow brought the tube down against the floor. The Spanish master jumped back, aware of the gas that his enemy liked to use.

The tube broke into a loud roar and a starburst of light. Vega jumped back, senses overloaded from the strange explosion. The sword struck blindly to defend him from harm.

That wasn't enough.

Blake snatched the sword away with one hand. The other cracked against Vega's skull. The mask came apart as the Spaniard went down. His eyes rolled around without being able to focus on anything.

One down, one more to go.

Blake listened to the airport. He applied a sleep pad to Vega's arm before shoving the master into handcuffs wrapped around a support column. The pad would apply a drug through the killer's skin, and then his blood.

That should keep Vega out of trouble until Blake was done.

The hissing sound of gas reached his ears. The others must have decided to keep the trainees at a distance. That was a good strategy. An apprentice was still dangerous to ordinary men like his assistants.

Blake donned a filter as he jogged to where the sound of rushing air came to him. A small cloud of settling white revealed several of Vega's students down for the count.

Blake heard a gun shot, followed it down a corridor. A group of the apprentices had made a barricade against someone at the end of a service corridor. The mystery man could see that none of them wanted to chance being the next man gassed if they rushed the man at the other end of the hall.

Blake approached, silent as a shadow. He was on the students before any could turn to attack him. A series of punches and kicks sent the hunting party to dreamland like their master.

"Everything went almost exactly like you planned." Cully Morrigan's rictus didn't conceal the real satisfaction he felt as he came out of hiding. "We're missing three of them."

"I will round them up." Blake gestured at the immobilized men at his feet. "Get them up and loaded for anywhere but here."

"On it, Chief." Morrigan put his pistols away and pulled out a length of rope. "This will keep them together until we figure out where to send them."

Blake was already gone.

Blake wandered through the terminal, listening intently. The three men he wanted would be different from the ordinary people passing through the airport. Training made their hearts beat slower than normal.

He found the trio moving toward the other end of the terminal. He walked until he was behind them, walking with them, matching their moves. They never felt the hands that dealt them sleep and bruises on their necks.

Blake hefted the three apprentices and carried them back to where their comrades were being secured. Ropes and chains would only hold them if they weren't trying to get out of the bonds.

Blake planned to make sure they were asleep until he could arrange something more permanent.

That was the best he could do.

Red Barton wondered why he felt like something was wrong. Vega should be killing Blake and his entourage. Morgana was defenseless without him.

The rest should be a piece of cake.

The only thing that could be a fly in the ointment was Nebiros. Sooner or later, the guardian would try and capture him. The renegade knew that magic wasn't that effective against the moving stone.

No need for a solution at the moment. First he had to secure the prize. Then Nebiros could be dealt with in some manner.

Barton stepped into the hangar, wearing a veil of invisibility while he searched out guards. Morgana drew symbols on the floor with chalk. He paused, unsure for a moment. Where were Morgana's protectors?

Blake wouldn't leave her alone.

A shadow came to life from under the plane. Barton had a moment to be puzzled before the shadow became a man in black swinging a fist. A hundred spells would stop that. The magic thief couldn't think of one before the closed hand sent him sprawling.

Barton let his cloak fade. Invisibility was useless if someone could see you anyway. Better to concentrate on offensive spells like Lightning, or Erupting White Death. One man could not defy the power he had stolen and mastered.

White lines ripped away from Barton's hands. His volley missed as the other man slid out of the way, blue light appearing in his eyes as he went. At least Morgana cowered out of the way as he directed lightning and fire at her living shield.

Why did he keep missing?

Barton struggled to his feet, waving a field into existence to protect him while he thought. Something was wrong about this. He should get out of there, buy some time until he knew what was going on. A roar above the magic thief turned his head.

Nebiros fell out of the air, swinging his ape arms down. His hammer hands struck the shield and cracked it. The guardian landed lightly, then lashed with its tail. The shield shattered into shards, falling to the hangar floor, then vanished. The stone demon grinned.

Barton released an explosive arrow at the devil. Now was the time to go. He couldn't be caught. He wasn't going back to the tomb. He started to fade out as the red streak blew up against the guardian's tough hide.

Hands clamped on Barton's neck. His spell vanished, cut off by the contact. He tried to shrug the grip off. His glance at his assailant told him that he had underestimated the man in black. Blue light cascaded from the man's eyes.

Barton lit his skin and clothing on fire. That should break the man's grip. Then he could escape.

Only it didn't break the death grip on Barton. If anything, the fingers pressed down harder through the flames. Then the fire went out.

Nebiros brought an enormous fist around. The blow scattered Barton's thoughts as he flew across the hangar. He landed on his stomach, Tremaine on his back, shoving his face down against the smooth concrete.

"I think he's senseless, mortal." Nebiros bounded to stand over Tremaine choking his enemy. "He's no good to us dead."

"It would make me feel better." Tremaine released his death grip, dragging the magic thief to an upright position by his shoulders. "We bagged our guy at least."

"We need to keep him like that until I get my powers back." Morgana smiled. "I can finally return to my former glory."

"I don't think so." Tremaine pulled Barton to a work table and rolled him up on the top. "It's time to think about releasing that and moving on."

"I refuse." Morgana crossed her arms as she stamped on the concrete floor. "I only went along with this so I can get back what was stolen."

"I went along for my freedom from jailing you." Nebiros squatted next to Barton. "I don't know what Tempus has in mind, but I expect he will grant mercy, but not a full pardon. After all you have hurt his precious people in this era also."

"That's not fair." Morgana turned her back on the two. "I did what I was supposed to."

"Owning up to what you have done and fixing it is better than trying to blame others." Tremaine tied Barton up. He found some sedatives in the cases and injected the new immortal with enough to kill an ordinary man. "The man you duped into robbing the Diana Foundation hasn't been cleared. The people you robbed to travel haven't been paid back."

"So you two think you can stand between me and my goals." Morgana raised her hands, anger bringing her power to the fore.

"Yes." Tremaine moved, closed hand leading the rest of his body. His fist recoiled as the ancient menace collapsed to the floor.

"Well done." Nebiros shifted on his knuckles, smiling to scare monster hunters into going home. "She'll be mad when she wakes up."

"Hopefully by then, Blake will have a solution to everybody's problems." Tremaine cuffed Morgana to a bench. "Otherwise we'll have to go another round of this."

"As long as I get my pardon, I'm happy." Nebiros's grin was hideous.

Adam Blake's face resembled stone. Its smooth surface hardly expressed the emotions he must have felt at success. Things hadn't gone smoothly, but they had gone. All he had to do was tie up loose ends.

That was easier said than done.

The first task on his list was dealing with Vega. The easy thing to do was kill him while he slept. Unfortunately that was something Blake would only do in self defense, as a last resort. Ordinary prisons weren't ready to deal with the amount of training that Vega possessed as a master, and if he decided to teach ordinary criminals the secrets, havoc would reign. Isolation from the general populace seemed the way to go, barring turning him over to Morrigan.

Morrigan didn't mind killing if it had to be done.

Blake decided the best thing to do was strand his normal so to speak prisoners on one of the islands that dotted the South Pacific. Not all of them had been charted. Ideally somewhere away from shipping and flight lanes to prevent rescues. Arranging for an air drop of supplies for them should be fine if done through Carrington's flying service.

Once decided the actual plan took a few hours to carry out. Most of that consisted of flying to the perfect island, and returning. Dumping the men had only taken a few minutes after the plane had coasted in near a beach.

The second problem required a greater deal of thinking. The major stumbling block was unleashing Nebiros and returning him to where he belonged. Once that was done, the rest should be easy to handle.

The problem was doing that.

Blake consulted with various experts working for the Diana Foundation while he ferried his last three enemies across the globe. Someone from Harvard sent a message through the Foundation about the type of spell he needed to undertake with a recipe. Nebiros nodded as the packet was read to him.

Blake and his men, with Croyd Layton and Lazarus Tremaine looking on, entombed Morgana Le Fay again. They placed Red Barton in a drawn circle outside the tomb, candles burning around the perimeter. The paper with the spell went in Nebiros's gallon-sized hands. He read the incantation as the clock clicked down to midnight in the nearby village.

Nebiros's stony skin flaked away, drifting down, as soon as he finished the incantation. He shrank to a more human height, tail vanishing as he tried to stand on smaller feet. Glowing eyes dimmed as the spell ran its course. He screamed once before falling to his knees.

Red Barton sat up, awakened by the pain lancing through his heart. His cry turned to a roar of frustration. He stood in the circle, already realizing what had happened to him as he watched the naked man taken away.

The other mortals walked away, ignoring his pleas. Only Blake and the grinning Morrigan remained as the others headed for the surface. The circle lit up as he reached for them with new talons. He jerked back from the sudden heat.

"I do not know if this fits what you did." Blake stared at the new monster, metallic eyes whirling. "I promised Nebiros a chance at a new life, and Morgana cannot be trusted. And then there is your desire for power. You cannot be allowed to steal more magic from its rightful possessors. So I decided to replace Nebiros with you. This will be your home until the end of time hopefully."

"You can't do this." Barton's great head looked for an exit, anything to get him out of his cell. "You don't have the authority. I demand a trial."

"You were tried, and found guilty." Blake's eyes glared in their sockets. "They wanted to kill you. I am giving you a second chance, a chance to learn from your mistakes and return to the world someday."

"I don't believe you." Barton slammed his fists against the stone floor. "You took everything away from me."

"You can believe this, cupcake." Morrigan adjusted his hat. "We should put you in the chair and fry you like bacon. That's what I wanted. Instead the spell on you will end when you meet the requirements. That's too good for you in my opinion."

"Think about it, Barton." Blake gestured for his assistant to go through the chamber's exit. "You will figure it out. As soon as you do, your sentence will end. Then you can wake Morgana, leave here, whatever you want to do."

"What if I can't figure it out?" Barton paced the circle. "What if you're wrong?"

"Then you do not deserve a second chance." Blake stepped through the hole in the wall. "Think carefully."

A plug fitted in the hole to seal Barton in. He glared at the spot the egress had been, candles burning around the diagram on the floor. As soon as the candles died out, he would be able to leave the small area marked out.

But he would never be able to leave the tomb unless he figured out what Blake had meant.

Barton sat down to think and wait for the candles to go out. He had eternity now. He might as well relearn the patience that had helped him find this place before he went renegade.

Thunder told him Blake had sealed the upper floor behind himself. Barton shrugged and went back to thinking. Nebiros could only leave if Morgana left, and Morgana was not going anywhere. Since that had been transferred to him, it was no use to imagine a crack existed to allow him to escape to the outside again.

Blake had a reputation for honesty. Spells had counters. Barton knew he could find the answer to his dilemma. And time was not a problem. He stared at the dying flame, tapping the floor with a claw.

epilogue

Adam Blake walked the streets of Church Hill, glad to be home again. He knew that his time could end at any second, but the city felt like the center of the universe. There were loose ends, but he had done what he could to fix the matter for the Diana Foundation.

The matter of the missing materials had been settled after searching along Morgana' flight path. The books had been turned over to be sealed away again by the Boston chapter. Their secrets would be kept better from now on.

Tremaine's friend was cleared. The cowboy had revealed a small part of what had happened and how Morgana's dupe had crafted armor to become a knight for her, and then for himself. He didn't tell them who the knight was, or how to find him.

Blake told Adama about Barton's imprisonment. The site of the tomb couldn't be kept from the Foundation at this point. Instead Blake urged Adama to keep the secret to himself. That was the only way to keep troublemakers from digging up Morgana and Barton.

Vega's stranding had been gone over. A watch would be kept for him to escape from the island. Other than killing him out of hand, that was the only thing they could do. The Foundation would spread the word the island was a hazard and drop supplies to help the men survive.

There was no doubt that Vega would find a way off the rock. His skills were a match for most of the lesser masters without using weapons. Swimming across the ocean didn't seem impossible for him to try.

After concluding the mission, Blake and his assistants had returned home. Cap Carrington had decided to check in with his new wife. Tank Messer, Cully Morrigan, and Twitch Twitchell had argued, then plotted a list of the bars in town they would hit until two of them dropped.

That left Adam Blake to walk alone as he always did.

Blake glanced up at the clock tower lording it over the city. The clock tower had been the first thing he had seen when he had arrived. It seemed the one part of the city that might never change.

Blake turned and walked down to the next block. He wondered if anyone would remember this alias after he was gone. He hoped he was doing some good operating in the past. You could never tell how things would work out up the line.

How many other enemies were still around? He hadn't thought it possible, but Morgana and Nebiros, and the master of Kwan Lee had all remembered him from history. Not many of them believed in letting bygones be bygones.

Blake looked around, nodded at the waterfront sprawling around him. He stood at the far end of his circuit. He turned and started back to his home. Once there he needed to file his paperwork, and maybe listen to some music to drain away some of the stress of the last few days.

A scream drew his attention. He ran toward the source, listening for more directions. He heard another, and sped up. His feet left no sound to mark his passage as he seemed to blend into the night sky. He arrived on the scene of men attempting to rob an old lady. She clutched her purse to her body and refused to give it up.

Blake's wooden face broke into a small smile. This was what he had signed up to do. He had wanted to make the world a better place for others to live in. Stopping a robbery fitted the bill. This was the best job in the world.

Blake glided in, picking out where he was going to hurt the muggers before they had a chance to see him. Time to make sure a lady made it home safely.

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