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NOTE: These stories are
intended for a mature audience.

Warfare & the Rite
A "Kendrick" Story
By
Jennifer Brozek
Start at the beginning of the Kendrick series

'... lose hope.'

It was Reginald's voice that woke Karen. For those first hazy moments between the unreality of dreams and the reality of day, she thought she had been having nothing more than a nightmare. David would never betray her. Heather and Louie were still alive. Relief turned to panic when she tried to move, to sit up, to rub the sleep from her eyes, and could not. Panic was turning into terror when Reginald's voice came again.

'Karen, I know you're scared. Don't be. We're coming for you. We will save you. There's magic on you that keeps the gargoyles away but the power of it is getting less as time goes on. It's how we found you - by finding where the gargoyles could not go. Our forces are coming. Don't lose hope.'

There was a pause, a sense of impatience and Reginald's voice began. 'Karen, I know you're scared...' It was his voice. But, it was in her head. '... Don't be. ...' She fought to make sense of it. '... We're coming...' In her head, in Reginald's voice. '... for you. ...' A gargoyle? A courier! "Wait. Stop." Her voice was a whisper but it sounded very loud in her own ears.

Reginald's voice stopped. She opened her eyes, relieved to discover she could do so. "Where are you?" She did not know if he would answer, given the way of gargoyles. Then, the image of her lying far below on a bed, seemingly in quiet repose, came to her. He was up high, above her. "Ok. Can you take a message back?"

There was a glow of assent.

"Tell them, tell Reginald, I'm ok. Scared. But, ok. The Order will be at the Colonel's Park. The ritual is supposed to break Reginald's magical hold on the city. The Order will be taking me there if you guys don't get me out of wherever I am. I'm their focus for this thing. Ok? Got it? Don't be late. Please." She paused. That was all she could think to say even though she felt there should be more, "Done. Go!"

It was only after she sent the tiny gargoyle away that she thought to wonder how long she had been unconscious and where she was now.

***

After the brief visit by the courier gargoyle, Karen slept. There was little else she could do. Based on her experiments, she could breathe, blink, talk and roll her eyes around in a vain attempt to see more. Other than that, her body would not obey her.

She woke with an aborted start of surprise when the door to her prison burst open. For one beautiful moment, she was certain it was Susan and the rest here to rescue her.  Her hope dimmed when Paul entered her field of vision. "Rise and shine, sunshine. It's time for you to take center stage."  The malicious glee in the man's eyes frightened her more than any other threat he could have made.

Paul scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder again. She gasped as he bounced her body, adjusting her on his shoulder.  With her hair in her face, she could not see anything except feet walking around them as they went.  It seemed that everyone knew what they were doing and where they were going. No one spoke. She was dumped into the trunk of a car without ceremony and endured a long, bumpy ride.

Paul was there to open the trunk. Again, he smiled with clear anticipation.  He looked around, then bent into the car. When he was almost nose to nose with her, he said, "No one's coming for you. Even if they try, they'll be stopped by the wards and our allies. You're gonna be awake through all that's gonna happen and I want you to know, when that garrote is dropped around your throat, it's going to be me who chokes the life out of you. I owe your gargoyle for these scars. Since I can't get revenge from him, I'll make do with you." He sealed his promise with a kiss before hauling her from the trunk into the moonlit night.

They were at the Colonel's Park. She saw that much before she was once again slung over his shoulder. When she was roughly dropped to the ground and she let out a yelp of pain as her head bounced. A nervous titter of laughter broke out among the robed assembly. There seemed to be several dozens of people here.

"Now, now. Let's show our honored guest some respect." Praetor said, stepping forward as Paul bound her wrists and ankles with leather straps, pulling her body into a spread eagle position. "She is the lynchpin to our ritual."

Karen turned her eyes up and saw an older, distinguished looking man with grey at his temples and a neat salt and pepper goatee. Looming above both of them was the statue of Colonel Kendrick.  She looked back at the silent throng of people in robes and all hope of sanity or reprieve died. It was happening. The ritual was beginning with her as the focus and no one was trying to stop it.

"I am Praetor, First in the Order of the Sacred Eye. Do any dispute my title or claim?" He paused just long enough to be polite before continuing.  "We are gathered here on this night to claim what is ours by right. Tonight, we take back Kendrick from the usurper and place it under our domain and protection once more!"  There was a smattering of respectful applause and approving murmurs.

He turned to his right. "V'ger."

V'ger stepped around Karen until he was standing at her feet. In his hands was an old map.  He knelt and placed it before him.  "Master of the City, I bind you to the laws of this rite!" He punctuated the declaration by pounding a spike through the center of the map, pinning it to the ground.

Karen saw this and wondered how it could be magic. She also wondered where Susan and her own allies were. She could not hear anything over the rustle of the people watching. If there was a fight outside the ward, it was locked away from her senses. She prayed that there was a fight going on. She prayed that someone would give her some kind of sign that she was not alone. She called for Sebastian in her head and tried to keep the fear out of her mental voice.

Praetor turned to his left. "Cerridwen."

Cerridwen stepped forward and knelt at Karen's side. She leaned forward with three old fashioned keys on a thong. "Master..."

"No." Karen said, unwilling to remain silent. "Don't do this! It's wrong."

"Silence." The old woman said, pointing a finger at her.

Karen tried to protest more but no longer had a voice to protest with. She tried to scream at the watching people but nothing came out. Falling back on what she knew worked, she called for Sebastian again, the only one she knew who would not let her down while he still lived.

"Master of the City, with the original keys to the first City Hall, I lock off all avenues of escape. You will heed our commands." Cerridwen stated and tied the thong of bronze keys around Karen's throat.

Paul stepped forward with a short wooden shaft, tipped with sharp mussel shell blades and bone points. He handed it to Praetor who walked to Karen's right side and knelt. He reached out and slashed Karen's arm with a quick motion. The flesh opened bloodlessly, then it filled with a crimson river that flooded over and spilled to the ground. He ignored her soundless cry of pain and leaned over her to slash at her left arm, spilling the blood on that side of her as well. Lastly, he lifted her t-shirt and exposed her belly. He paused, then said, "Master of the City, with the blood of your chosen representative, I bind your life to hers!" He slashed at her stomach, cutting it and watched the blood well and spill over.

Trapped inside her unmoving body and soundless voice, Karen screamed in pain. All thoughts of rescue were gone.  This whole thing had not been real until that first slash to the arm. The pain made it real. It pulled her back from the silent watching and rational disbelief she had retreated to. She rolled her eyes, tears spilling from them as she tried to catch the gaze of someone else, anyone else. She could not do it. No one would look her in the eyes. They were looking at each other with clear discomfort but no one was going to step forward to stop this madness. They were all going to watch while she was ritualistically murdered.

Cerridwen handed an engraved metal plate to Praetor. He took it and pressed it into the blood on Karen's stomach.  Once it was wet enough to his satisfaction, he moved to her feet where he placed four bloody one dollar bill prints on the map of Kendrick at its cardinal points. "Master of the City, with your representative's life blood and the Great Seal, your power is transferred to the Order of the Sacred Eye."  He looked up and nodded.

Karen felt Paul before she saw him. He came down on one knee behind her head to loop a leather garrote around her neck. He pulled up on it. Her head and shoulders were pulled upward off the ground by her throat. The back of her head thumped against his knee and he used that as leverage to strangle her.

With her head up, she saw that Praetor now had a large book in his hands. It was open and he called out a chanting verse that sounded like Arabic.  The congregation responded as one in the same language.  She tried to beg for help but she saw no help before her and the garrote tightened until she thought it would severe her head from her body. As the pain grew, she almost wished it would.

The worst of the pain was first in her throat. Then, as the need for air became more urgent, the burning in her lungs overrode all else.  Where was the Calvary? Where was the promised rescue? Where was Reginald? Susan? Sebastian? Why weren't they here?  As her vision began to dim, she realized that the rescue was not coming and she was about to die. For real. All hope died as her vision went black.

***

Time had no meaning in the blackness. One moment, she was struggling for air through a throat choked by cord.  The next, her body was thrashing wildly against the leather restraints with a strength born from the body's knowledge that it was taking its literal last breaths and it was fighting for its life.  Her right foot came free as her eyes opened upon an impossible scene.

"I command you!" Praetor screamed at the advancing tarnished metal statue of Colonel Kendrick, his sword drawn.  Praetor wielded the large tome like a shield, screaming incoherent demands until the statue's sword stabbed forward, impaling the book and the man holding it. Colonel Kendrick's bronze likeness lifted both into the air.

She opened her mouth, gasping for air. While the intense pressure from the garrote was gone, there was still pressure on her abused throat. Air wormed its way past the swollen flesh to fill her burning lungs. Sucking it in, she looked around with fogged eyes as the sounds filtered past the buzzing in her ears.

Lamiel was standing side-by-side with two other girls, Juliet and Katrina. The three of them together were using some sort of barrier of light to hold off two street punk kids covered with bullhead symbols and wielding clubs. From behind them another street kid came and hit Juliet in the back of the head with a baseball bat.  As she fell, the barrier fell. Katrina went back to back with Lamiel who drew a glowing dagger from its sheath.

Just as Karen started to get control of her breathing, her entire body began to spasm. The jerking made the leather straps around the still bound portions of her limbs cut in deeper. Her right leg and head thrashed, heedless of the damage it was doing to her.

Gargoyles tumbled, growled and fought against were-beasts.  As a couple of them came too near, the gargoyle grunted in pain from the magic barrier still on Karen. The were-creature, not quite wolf, not quite cat, took this distraction as an opportunity to break off a large section of the gargoyle's wing.  Susan yelled commands and Alexander appeared from above, landing full on the creature's back, breaking it with a loud crunching sound.

The spasms stopped but tears flooded her eyes and a wave of nausea overcame her. She quickly turned her head to make sure she would not choke if she threw up. 

John Corso was fighting hand-to-hand against a couple of the robed members of the Order. It was going John's way with several stomach punches followed by an uppercut until one of them pulled a knife and stabbed him in the side.  John returned the favor by kicking out the man's knee before falling to his own.

Karen yanked on the leather straps holding her prone in the middle of the fighting chaos. She pulled hard, trying not to break the straps but to pull up the stakes that held the straps fast.   This was a mistake. Her body arched hard in another uncontrolled spasm. It was short but intense and left her gagging.

Makah warrior men and women faced off against more of the Children of Anu. They circled each other with a predator's wariness of an enemy's claws. All were armed with the blunt or edged weapons of their people. There was a momentary stand off, then one of the Children screamed and threw himself at his chosen opponent. All semblance of coherence was lost in the fray.

Once more in control of her body, Karen concentrated on freeing her right wrist.  The stake was pounded flush into the ground and she had no leverage. Still, she would not give up. Someone was going to notice her in this helpless position and was going to try to finish what Praetor started. Body trembling, it was not until after she grasped the rock to use as either a cutting implement or as leverage that she realized she could hear singing. She looked for its source.

Somnia sang to those would listen and hear.  Normally her voice was reserved for humans but in this battle, she owed a debt to Karen Wilson and, thus, to all of her allies who would rescue her. The small gargoyle suddenly was suddenly inspired to hamstring the fleeing hated one. He grabbed the bone bladed wooden shaft bigger that he was and slashed the assassin in the back of the leg just above the knee. Paul Maloy fell with a cry of pain. He was still prone when Sebastian swarmed up him and latched on to the man's throat at the jugular. When Paul ripped the small gargoyle from his neck, Sebastian made certain to bring large chunks of flesh with him. With that motion, Paul forgot all about Sebastian as the blood spurted from his torn throat.

Karen tried to yell in triumph but not much more than a sore croak came out.  Instead, she mentally sent as much praise, love and pride towards Sebastian as she could. It was her approval that became Sebastian's undoing.

***

She watched as Sebastian made sure Paul Maloy was dead before turning and streaking towards her.  She realized he was not going to stop and shouted a mental warning that the spell was still active. Sebastian ignored it and bounced off the spell barrier still surrounding her. Karen felt his pain and his determination.  'No! Sebastian, it'll kill you!'

'Save you.'  He hunkered down and approached the barrier with caution.

Karen struggled as hard as she could to get her left arm, the one closest to him, free. 'No! Don't!'

'Will!'  Then, he focused all his effort on crawling through the edge of the barrier and making his way to his human. The magic spell crackled over his body in a small lightening storm of pain. 

She could feel how much every step cost him. If she could have, she would have cut her own hand off in order to get away from him. Risking another one of those intense body spasms, Karen pulled with everything she had, trying to break the leather that held her. She had to get away from Sebastian. The longer he was within the spell's power, the more it hurt him. But, her effort was in vain.

Sebastian crawled every agonizing inch of the five foot spell barrier to the stake that kept her bound wrist in place; his skin was on fire. The closer he got to her, the worse it was. He fought every instinctive urge to curl up back into his protective stone form or to flee.  Instead, he lunged forward to bite down on the leather. He missed and landed hard on his chin, inches from Karen's hand. Then, he was forcibly changed back into his rock form by the spell's magic. As brave and as stubborn as Sebastian was, he was still a baby and he had reached his limit.

Karen felt Sebastian's abrupt withdrawal from her mind and watched him turn to stone. To all of her senses, if he was not already dead, he soon would be. 

As she renewed her struggles to free herself, she felt someone or something watching her.  Karen looked for the new presence and saw a lone blond haired girl in Order robes crouched by a tree. She looked frightened but not panicked. In one hand was Changer's Claw, still bloody from both Karen and Paul's blood.  Not knowing what else to do and desperate, Karen yelled through a ragged throat to the girl, "Please! Help him! Get him away from me. Please! I'll do anything!"

The girl looked around at the fighting chaos. She winced as a werewolf slashed at a girl and a guy backed up against a tree with knife-like claws. With a quick nod, she ran towards Karen, still crouched. She raised Changer's Claw when she reached the small gargoyle and the prone woman. For a moment, Karen thought she had been betrayed again but when the weapon came down, it severed the strap binding Karen's left hand to the stake.  Karen did not hesitate; she turned over and pulled as far away from Sebastian as she could.

"I'm Corelli. What they were doing was wrong." The girl said as she scooped up Sebastian. "That's why I'm helping you. But, you still owe me. I'll get him to safety." 

"Thank you." Karen whispered, watching the girl sprint away through the fight with Sebastian and Changer's Claw in hand. Her eyes found the couple that had been fighting the werewolf moments before. She recognized them from Bacchanalia as Shirtless Guy and Lace Girl; the couple she had once watched dance together at the club. She had never learned their real names. She probably never would. They were both dead, eviscerated corpses at the base of a tree.

Fighting against the sudden need for tears, she worked to free her right hand. Karen could not feel it anymore. Nor could she see it through her tears she failed to stop. She was focusing on that task as hard as she could so she would not fall to pieces. When the hand landed on her shoulder, and the person knelt at her side, it startled a shriek and a flailed fist out of her.

"Karen! It's me! God, are you alright?" Aaron said.

She had never been so happy to see him in her life. She gave him a one armed hug. "Sorta. I guess. No. Sebastian's hurt."  She smeared tears across her face with the back of one hand.

"When I got to your place, you were gone... But, David... and Heather. They... I saw..."

"Paul Maloy killed Heather." She pointed to his dead body. "Sebastian killed him." She said nothing about David, why he had been there, his betrayal or the Order's betrayal of him. It was not something she was willing to think about, let alone explain to anyone else right now.

"I tried to get here as fast as I could. I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner. I'm so sorry."

"What are you talking about?" She realized as he stood, he was carrying a bloodied short sword with him. He used it to cut the rest of her bindings.

"I -" He stopped, looking past her as he helped her up. "Shit."

She looked behind her and saw three men in monk's robes approaching. She could not hear them but she knew they were speaking or chanting. As they walked through the fighting, no one bothered them. As they passed people and creatures in mortal combat, the fighting stopped. The enemies broke away from one another and stumbled off in opposite directions.

Aaron grabbed her shoulder and turned her back to him. "I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner. I'm not who you think I am. I need you to know that you were never just a job to me. I swear to you, you never were. I didn't agree with them on this and I should have come to you sooner. Please, remember that." He looked over her shoulder again, let her go and stepped to the side, meeting the trio of monks head on.

Completely confused, Karen took a step back from both the monks and Aaron. She could see the monks were all old men and that they were angry.

"You abandoned your post, Simon." Brother Peter said.

"I did what I thought was right."

"At what cost?"

"Cost? What cost? You said she wouldn't be hurt!"  Aaron turned and yanked the garrote from Karen's neck. She had not realized it was still there. "Does this look like she hasn't been hurt?!" He shook the braided cord at them.

"I said no lasting damage would come to her. She's alive, isn't she?"  Brother Peter's eyes flicked from Aaron to Karen and back again.

Karen stepped back from them again and turned. She found herself facing the statue of Colonel Kendrick. She had not realized that it had returned to its rightful place - sans the impaled megalomaniacal cult leader. His sword was still covered in blood, though.  With her back to Aaron (or was it Simon?) and the other monks, she listened while pretending to study the statue and read the plaque at its base.

"She's alive no thanks to you!"

"Know now that I forgive you for your hasty words, Brother Simon." Brother Peter said, raising a hand to forestall the words of his companions. "However, you should have trusted us, your Brothers. You should have trusted me, your mentor. How do you think the wards came down? Who do you think allowed this rescue to happen?"

Aaron, still angry, said nothing.

"She is hurt, yes. But you have the means to heal her as well as the rest of the wounded. Nothing more should be said here. We'll speak back at the monastery. We all have other work to do." Without waiting for a response, Brother Peter and his companions continued on their way. They began their chant once more, quelling all fighting around them as they went.

Aaron walked to Karen's side. He reached out a hand and took hers in his.

She squeezed it as she tried for a smile but failed. She was too tired and worried for Sebastian to be angry at this newest discovery. "Should I call you Simon?"

"No. Aaron is my birth name. Will you allow me to heal you?"

"Will it hurt?"

"Far from it."

"Ok."

Aaron clasped her hand in both of his and bent over it. As he murmured what sounded like a prayer in another language, she felt a warmth spread through her body. The pain lessened, then disappeared. She felt so much better that it amazed her. The contrast of pain to not-pain was almost euphoric.

"Thank you," she said, looking at the plaque again. "Someday, you should tell me about Simon. Because, unlike Romeo, I believe this other name means something."

"All names mean something. I'll tell you if I can what I can."

Her eyes picked up a single word on the plaque that momentarily stunned her. Suddenly, so many things she never understood about the city and its people became clear in that single moment of revelation. "Yes. All names do mean something." She shook her head. "Can you help other people like you helped me?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Can I help you?"

"Yes."

"Ok. Let's help these people." Helping the wounded lying around her would give her a reprieve from having to think about what she had just been through, from worrying about Sebastian, from the betrayals and the discoveries and from grieving for those who died at her behest. She needed to do something. Later, there would be time for tears.  Later, she would deal with the consequences of her actions. For now, she would do what she did best - help people.

***

Elsewhen...

"She dropped off two paper bags at the museum. One had Changer's Claw in it. The other had Sebastian." Susan said. "Then, she told me to tell you that she'd be in contact with you soon."

Karen gripped her phone. "Is Sebastian alright?"

Susan paused, judging her words, and decided to be honest, "I don't know. I gave him to Alexander and he's not talking. Sometimes, when a gargoyle is hurt as badly as Sebastian was... is, sometimes, they don't come back."

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. "If there is anything I can do. Anything."

"I know, Karen. I know. I'll call you. I promise."

"Ok. How's Lamiel and the rest of Bacchanalia?"

"Recovering. They lost some people and, despite Aaron's healing of Juliet and Thompson, he's not welcome back. Lamiel is pissed at his infiltration. Worse, she recognized the healing as Christian. She's pretty pagan-centric."

"Aaron. I don't know what to think about him anymore. It's like I never knew him or David."

"Speaking of which... David. What happened with his body? And Heather's?"

"I don't know." She looked around her spotless apartment. "I don't know. When I got back here, they were gone. Everything was clean. No blood. No bodies. No nothing."

"You're joking."

"No."

"Shit." Susan muttered.

"Yeah."

"Shit!"

"Yeah. I don't know who was here, what they did with the bodies or why."  Then, a sudden explanation came to mind. "Susan, I gotta go."

"OK. I'll talk to you soon."

"Bye." Karen closed her cell phone and looked at it. She opened it and closed it again. "Reginald, do I even need this phone to talk to you?"

The phone in her hand rang. It was him. She answered it. "No. But, it makes it easier. Humans like something to focus on when they talk to... someone." Reginald said.

"You are the city, aren't you? I... I just need to be sure."

"Yes."

"You took the name of the city founder or are you the city founder?"

"I took his name. People think of him when they think of me. It influenced me."

"Why didn't you just tell me? Why did you let me believe you were a man?" In her mind, it was not a betrayal but it was very close. Lying by omission.

"Would you have believed me if I started out with the truth? 'Hello Karen, it's the city. I need you to help me.'"

She thought about that before answering. "I think I would have thought I was crazy."

"Yes."

"Did you take care of my apartment? David and Heather?"

"No."

"No?" She frowned. "Who did?"

"I don't know, Karen. I was having my metaphorical guts ripped out through my metaphorical nose at the time. I was a little distracted."

"What?"

"The ritual. The magic. It would have worked. Even I have laws I must obey. If they had succeeded in killing you, my free will would have been murdered as well and they would have had me as a slave. You have no idea how much that scares me."

"I didn't know cities could feel."

"I'm new to it. I'm still learning."

"What's going to happen now?"

"What do you want to have happen?"

"I want to continue making Kendrick a better place to live for everyone." It was the first thing that came to her mind.

"You can't please everyone all the time. I read that once."

"I know. But I can try."

"I'll help you."

"You could start by helping Sebastian, if you can."

"Gargoyles are children of the city. They, too, have laws they must follow."  He paused. "But, I'll do what I can."

"That's all I'm asking. We'll worry about the rest later."

Story by Jennifer Brozek, Copyright 2006
Photo by Rory Clark, Stopped Motion Photography, Copyright 2006