Solstice: Part Three

The First Crusade: Aftermath

          The remaining Proxies traveled west, to the Temple.  Their Master returned to them, chest healed, but with a bloodstained shirt, shortly after their retreat.  He would not, or could not, tell Sutton what had happened to Zero.  The Proxies avoided speaking to Him, not wishing to incur his wrath; Zanna was less passive.

          Zanna was closer to their Master than Sutton.  She was probably the closest Proxy to Him of all of His servants.  She was beautiful without her mask (which, oddly enough, she didn't always wear), yet terrifying.  Some of them, even the mindless ones, feared her almost as much as the Master.

          She had met Him in the Black Forest of Germany, where she was born.  She had survived their first encounter, and had met him again in college.  She found her true calling, as the foremost Proxy leader.  She was usually the warmest of the Proxies, but as anyone who had been seen her hunting a target could attest, she had a much darker side.

          Zanna had approached Sutton, her Germanic goddess mask in one hand, a silk glove in the other.  With the glove she slapped him.

          "How could you allow this to happen?" she growled, towering over him.  "You were there, watching.  You could have done something, Sutton."

          Sutton stood his ground.  "What do you suppose I should have done, then?  I wasn't previously aware that the Master was vulnerable to mortal weapons.  How could I know that some fool with a sword could—"

          They both noticed their Master watching them intently as they followed the rest of the group.  Sutton and Zanna fell silent, and moved ahead to the front of the group.

          One could almost feel the morale straining within the Proxy gathering.  Acolyte, limping from a sprained ankle, was muttering his psalms to the Master as always, but in a tone of one who is vigorously trying to deny something they've recently learned to be true.

          Sutton and Zanna were somewhat worried for Shrike.  He didn't walk with them but stumbled, muttering all the way; "He's no man, He can't be hurt... I burn things for Him, I destroy for Him, he's not just another man!  He isn't..."

          "I knew something was wrong," Pit whispered to her lover in a frightened tone.  "I knew when I read H(a)unting.  Something isn't right, it's all falling apart..."

          The mindless ones were quiet, but stared unrelentingly at the Master, with looks of confusion and accusation.

          "We'll have to work this out when we get to the Temple," Zanna said.  She blew strands of long, flaxen hair from her face.  "Did you see Zero die?"

          "No-one did.  No body to be found, either.  News of this will spread quickly, to those who weren't present.  This could be damaging."

          "You think?  We'll have to strike back," Zanna said, patting the Uzi at her hip.  "Somehow.  Once we're at the Temple, I'll have to begin organizing something.  More of them will have to suffer for this."

          Zanna went back, her long black trench coat flowing behind her.  She talked very quietly with the Master, His tentacles still writhing with agitation.

          So the Runners had fought, and won, and ran off again.  They would hunt.  There had to be vengeance.  That night had been terrible.  He had been wounded.

          Their Master had bled.