Date: Wed, 4 Aug 2010 07:02:24 EDT
From: BertMcK@aol.com
Subject: Crystal Throne/Riders of Tuatha 13

RIDERS OF TUATHA
by Bert McKenzie
Copyright 2010

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any real
person alive or dead is coincidental and unintentional.

CHAPTER XIII

     The four of them stepped into the garage and pulled the doors closed.
Scott flipped the switch, illuminating the room by turning on the strip of
fluorescent bulbs mounted on an overhead beam.  The light revealed the
spilled box, pots and pans lying about on the floor.  "What is all this?"
Scott asked.

     "I was storing some of your things out here," Jennifer admitted.
"When I moved in I didn't know where to put everything."  She bent down to
try and pick up some of the clutter.  Caseldra immediately began to help
her.  Meanwhile, Rood and Scott began to move some of the larger cartons
away from the back wall.  Once a space had been cleared, the gateway to the
other world was revealed.

     The rope was still tied to the metal hook on the wall.  It dropped
down to the floor and snaked off to the back wall of the carriage house.
Rood was the only one who was not surprised by what was revealed there.
Where before had stood a wooden wall, now there was only a large, dark
circle of blackness.  The wooden sides of the building just seemed to
disappear at the edges of the dark hole in the back of the structure.  The
rope threaded up and into the well of darkness, disappearing at its
perimeter.

     "I can't believe this," Jennifer gasped.  "It really is magic!"

     "Let us go bring Elnar back to this world," Rood suggested.  "He may
then be able to assist us in determining when Robin will arrive, and in
locating your missing friend as well."

     "You stay here," Scott instructed Jennifer.  "We won't be long."

     "You're not going in there?" she asked incredulously.

     "We're going to get someone who can help us.  I'll be right back."

     "Scott, please don't leave," she asked as she began to tremble.  The
fear of being left alone seemed to hit hard.  In the back of her mind she
thought that someone might come back for her again.  Whoever took Troy
might still want her.

     Caseldra could see her agitation.  "I shall stay here," she
volunteered, stepping over to Jennifer and putting her arm around her.  "Go
quickly and bring my father.  I am sure he will be able to help."

     "Okay," Scott agreed and turned to the tall guard.  Rood bent down and
picked up the rope.  He played it through his hands as he walked forward.
Lifting his leg, he stepped over the edge of the wall and into the circle
of darkness.  As his body plunged into the hole, it disappeared and the
blackness swallowed him like someone being submerged in a pool of ink.
Once Rood was completely gone, only the rope dangling from the hole moved
and danced to prove that he still existed elsewhere.

     Scott picked it up and giving the two women a reassuring wink, turned
and stepped into the darkness.  His foot felt like it was pressing against
a tightly stretched sheet of rubber.  Try as he might, it would not go into
the black circle.  He reached his hand out to push forward, but encountered
the same resistance.  "I can't get through," Scott said as he dropped the
rope and leaned with all his weight against the darkness.  It reacted by
pushing back with an equal force.  "I don't get it," he complained.

     "Perhaps this passage will only permit my people to travel so,"
Caseldra suggested as she and Jennifer approached the barrier.  She reached
out her hand and it disappeared into the inky circle.

     "Let's test that," Scott said and then spoke to Jennifer.  "Hold your
hand out," he instructed.  At first she drew back, but then seeing no harm
come to Caseldra, Jennifer reached out.  Her arm also disappeared into the
blackness.  "I guess it's only me," Scott said, trying to understand why he
could not cross the void.  He again reached out and again encountered the
forceful resistance.

     "I shall go, my lord, and explain this curiosity," Caseldra suggested.
"Please tell Jennifer that I shall only be gone a short time and that I
shall return."  She gave Jennifer a quick hug as Scott translated, then she
picked up the rope and stepped into the darkness, quickly being swallowed
up and disappearing from view.

     Jennifer and Scott stood and waited for a while, but nothing happened.
After about fifteen minutes, Jennifer looked around and found some camp
stools.  They sat down to await the return of their friends.

     "So what's going on with you and Caseldra?" Scott finally asked.  "The
two of you seemed awfully chummy."

     "She's very sweet," Jennifer replied and looked blankly back at him.
Scott simply raised an eyebrow.  She suddenly realized what he was
suggesting.  "Get your mind out of the gutter," she protested.  "She saved
my life when that man . . . that man. . ."  The tears began to brim in her
eyes again.

     "Jen, I'm sorry," Scott apologized quickly.  "I didn't mean anything."

     "You did so," she said, wiping her eyes with the back of the sleeve on
her sweatshirt.  "You know I'm straight. We've just grown very close."

     "It's okay," he said and started to add something but thought better
of it.

     "What?" she asked.

     "You may be straight, but I'm not so sure about her," he said, jerking
his thumb toward the darkness at the end of the room.  "I've seen the way
she looks at you.  And she sure has been very protective."

     "She's just being a good friend," Jennifer told him.  She then looked
back over at the black circle.  "What's taking them so long?"

     "Maybe it's just the time between our worlds," Scott suggested.  He
tried to explain to her how time was relative and seemed to flow at
different speeds in the two places.  He then suggested that they go back to
the house assuring her that it would be a waste of time to just sit and
stair at the wall.

     "What if they return and we aren't here?" she asked.

     "They'll find us," he told her.

                               * * *

     "What are you doing?" the fat man asked as he looked down at the
bloody body chained to the table.

     "I'm just doing an experiment with salt water," Lars explained.
"First I make a shallow cut in the skin, then I spray it with this mixture
to see the reaction."

     "And what have you learned so far?" the fat man questioned.

     "I get a bigger reaction in some places than I do in others," Lars
answered.  "You want to see?"  He picked up a scalpel from the work bench,
then turned to reach toward the groin area.

     "Perhaps later," his corpulent companion replied.  "I came down to see
how our alien was doing."  The two walked over to the end of the room and
pulled back the makeshift curtain.  Robin sat cross legged on the cement
floor, his eyes closed and his hands resting on his long legs.  The blue
stripes from the whip were still evident on his pale skin.

     "He's been sitting like that for a long time," Lars said.  "He
wouldn't drink any of the water I put in there."

     "Well, the doctor will be here tomorrow.  And by the way, I want you
to hide your play thing over there before he comes."  The fat man indicated
the gory sight on the table by the work bench.

     "But Tony . . ." Lars began.

     "It wouldn't do to frighten the doctor off," Tony said sternly.
"Besides, it looks as if he's near death anyway.  You might as well finish
him off this evening.  We'll be moving once the doctor picks up our prize."

     "Okay," Lars agreed sullenly.  He and Tony stepped back to the other
part of the basement, pulling the curtain closed behind them.

     Robin opened his eyes and leaned forward, getting as close as he dared
to the iron bars.  He listened intently and heard the fat man wheezing and
puffing his way back upstairs.  He then heard a number of unusual metallic
sounds followed by a low painful moan.  Over the past day Troy's cries had
become weaker and weaker.  Robin knew the end was near if help did not
arrive soon.  Yet he could think of no help that would come.  He remembered
the images of the pool, of Scott trapped in a burning building.  For all he
knew, his lover may be dead already.  He could only hope that he would be
able to get out of this cage and get his hands around the throat of the one
called Lars.  He wanted to make the big man feel as much pain and fear as
he had inflicted on Troy.

                               * * *

     It was late evening before anyone returned from the carriage house.
Scott and Jennifer were sitting in the drawing room, waiting in silence
when they heard the back door opening.  Jennifer jumped in fear and Scott
closed the book he was reading.  They then heard a familiar voice call out
from the kitchen.  "My lord, my lady, we have returned."

     "In here," Scott called back and Caseldra entered the room followed by
a contingent of armed men.  Scott greeted them all as friends and began
introducing them to Jennifer.  She had already met Rood.  Now she was
introduced to Melcot and Akuta, both tall and blond, resembling the guard
she knew.  She also met Clive.  He was much shorter, being dwarfed by his
companions, and had a much darker complexion and deep, chocolate brown
colored hair.  His armor, breast plate and chain mail suit bagged around
his smaller frame, having been designed for a bigger man.  But what struck
her as the greatest difference was the quick, almost jerkiness with which
Clive moved.  Where the others seemed calm, he appeared to be the picture
of nervous excitement barely contained.  When she had a moment she asked
Scott why the one looked so different from the others.  After all, weren't
they all fairies?

     "Clive is a wood elf," Scott explained.  "The others are the high born
elves.  It's kind of like our different races."

     Looking at the assembled party, Scott noticed that Elnar was not with
them.  "He could not come," Caseldra explained sadly.  "He said he created
the spell from our world.  For the spell's creator to travel through an
opening of this kind, it would pull the spell in on itself and sever the
gateway all together."

     "Then we can't expect him to find Troy," Scott said.

     "It is worse than that, my lord," Melcot told him.  "Elnar said that
if you were unable to cross the barrier it could only mean one thing.
Robin is already in this land.  And since the spell was designed to open
close to his point of entry and he is not here . . . we can only know that
he must be in trouble somewhere in this world."

     The image of Robin behind bars, his body torn and bleeding came
unbidden to Scott's mind.  He felt a catch in his throat as the bottom fell
out of his stomach.  "We've got to find him," he said, "before . . ."

     "But how?" Rood asked.  "Where shall we begin?"

     "I don't know, but I'll find a way."

                               * * *

     One last anguished scream ripped the air of the confined basement.
Robin felt the release as he sat in meditation.  He knew the end had
finally come, and although the curtain blocked his vision, he knew the end
must have been horribly gruesome.  He raised to a semi-kneeling position
and made the Tuathan gesture of prayer.  "May you be at peace now," he wind
whispered to the body beyond the curtain.  "And may you return again soon
to those who love you."  He then softly began keening the song for the
departed.

     He was a third of the way through when the curtain was yanked aside.
He looked up to see Lars standing before him, the white lab coat he wore
now spattered with blood.  "You know he's dead, don't you?" the man asked.
Robin glared at him, hatred burning in his green eyes.  "If it weren't for
Tony I'd do the same to you," the man taunted. Robin never stopped his song
for a moment, but only continued to stare at the man.

     "I don't think I like that noise you're making," he said and quickly
reached through the bars to grab Robin's long hair and yank forward.  Robin
fell toward the sadist, his face and torso striking against the metal.
Lars laughed gleefully at the sizzling sound as the cold metal seared dark
burn marks into the tender flesh.  Robin cried out involuntarily.  Lars
released him and he pulled back away from the cage.  Robin slowly got back
onto his knees and looking warily at the big Scandinavian, he resumed the
song.  "I told you to stop that," Lars said, the smile fading from his
face.  He reached in again to grab at Robin, but this time the fairy was
prepared.  He moved like lightning, darting his hands up quickly and
seizing Lars' arm.  He deftly applied quick pressure, jerking it the
opposite direction from the joint, and neatly snapping the bones in his
forearm.  Lars screamed in pain and pulled back away from the cage, pulling
out his broken arm.

     "What's going on here?" Tony demanded as he waddled up from behind.

     "That thing broke my arm," Lars gasped through tears of pain as he
cradled his broken limb.

     Tony reached out and struck the big man across the face with the back
of his hand.  "You deserve worse," he said.  "I told you to stay away from
him.  Now go see Clarissa.  Have her call a doctor."  Lars turned and
headed across the room to the door.  "And Lars," Tony called after him in a
sweet tone.  "Hurry back and clean up that mess," he said, pointing to
Troy's body.  "Remember, we have clients who want the head."  The tall man
turned to go through the door and up the stairs.

     "Now, it's just us, Mr. Spock," the fat man said to Robin.  "I don't
know if you can understand me or not, but I'll tell you anyway.  Lars just
killed your friend over there.  He disemboweled him.  And the two girls and
the guy from that big house . . .  Clarissa set fire to the building they
were in and made sure that they didn't come out.  They're all dead except
for you," he laughed and leaned down toward the cage.

     Robin lunged at him, reaching through the bars to grab at the fat
neck.  But Tony managed to jump back just out of reach and Robin again came
in contact with the iron.  It again burned into his skin, causing him to
jerk back.  Tony laughed loudly at his pain.  "So you do understand me," he
said.  "That's good.  That means you'll understand everything the doctor
has planned for you."  He turned and waddled across the room to the door.

     Robin sat back in the cage and felt the despair wash over him.  He
kept replaying the image of Scott in the burning building.  He again began
the song for the departed, this time adding his own name to the names of
his friends.

                               * * *

     "What about Roger?" Jennifer asked.

     "That little queen?  What about him?" Scott came back.

     "Well, he always bragged about his connections with the world of
magic.  Maybe he really knows some of the people who can point us to the
black magic cults around here.  They may be able to tell us where Troy and
Robin are."

     Scott thought for a moment, then translated her suggestion for the
others.  "It's a long shot, but it's worth a try."

     "Where find we this Roger?" Rood asked.

     "At this time of night he'll be only one place, the Pink Collar,"
Scott said.

     "What is that?" Rood questioned him.

     "It's a . . ."  There was no Tuathan equivalent for 'gay bar.'  "It's
a social place for lots of reversals."

     "If that is where he is to be found, then we must go there," Rood
said.

     "Now wait a minute," Scott interrupted this line of thought.  "I can
go there, and maybe even Jennifer, but not you."

     "Why not?" the tall, handsome guard asked.

     "Because . . ."  He didn't know how to explain it.  Rood walking into
a gay bar would be like dangling a raw steak in front of a school of
piranha.  "For one thing, you don't speak the language."

     Akuta beamed a bright smile and pulled out a vial from his tunic.
"This will take but a moment."  He poured a thin, oily liquid out into his
palm and dipped his finger in it, quickly anointing the spot directly
behind each of Rood's ears.  He then dipped his finger again in the
glistening oil and touched it to Rood's lips.  He proceeded to pour more
oil into his hand and moved on to the other fairies, finishing up with
himself.

     "You were saying I speak not the language," Rood said in perfect
English.

     "But I thought . . . you didn't . . ." Jennifer began in obvious
confusion.

     "My lady," Caseldra said to her, placing her hand on Jennifer's arm,
"the chrism of communication makes this possible by giving us the semblance
of your words."  Jennifer looked at her new friend in wonder.

     "Jennifer," Scott said.  "They want to know why they can't go to a gay
bar."

     She smiled back at him.  "Well, for one thing they are dressed a
little strangely."  The men all looked at each other.  "Come on," she said,
heading out of the room.  "Scott has plenty of clothes that ought to fit
you."  Scott fell heavily into a chair as she led the four men upstairs.

     "Is this 'gay bar' a very dangerous place?" Caseldra asked.  "Fear not
for them, my lord.  They are strong warriors."

     Scott tried to explain the situation to her.  "The Pink Collar is
really more of a meat market."

     "They sell food there?" she asked.

     "No.  What I mean is, other reversals go there to pick up guys."

     "Is this a courtship ritual, the lifting of men?"

     Scott could see he needed to be much more specific.  "People will
assume that since they are there, they too are reversals and that they are
looking for mates."

     "So only single men go to this place," Caseldra said.

     "No, some go in couples," he admitted.

     "Then I have the perfect solution."

     A few minutes later, the gang of elves was ready to go, dressed to
party in Scott's shirts and pants.  Clive, on the other hand, was much too
small to wear anything from Scott's closet.  He had to make do with a pair
of Jennifer's jeans and a silk, embroidered blouse.  It was the most
masculine thing she had.  "Now remember," Caseldra instructed them.  "You
two are a bonded pair," she said to Melcot and Clive, "and you two are a
pair," she told Akuta and Rood.  "Stray not from one another in this place
or you may be lifted by a human."

     Jennifer gave Scott a curious look as he called for a cab.