Wow, thanks for all the discussion, you guys. I'm glad you like it, and I'm glad that little cliffhanger provoked a few guesses.
I'm sorry to say, none of you were exactly right, but then, I hope the idea that I was hopefully able to surprise you is a good thing. (And yes, the answer of what exactly Macbeth is DOES appear in this chapter. I don't leave you hanging on that)
Anyway, glad you guys still like it (and I find myself liking Tavelli too, considering he was originally a one-off character that I decided to bring back and make more important), so here's the next chapter!
Chapter Eight
"What are these So wither'd and so wild in their attire. That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, And yet are on 't?" - Macbeth, Act I, Scene III
Obviously, this was a ploy to distract me and make me focus on that rather than on what I should do now. So, knowing it was a trick meant I'd never fall for it. I wouldn't obsess over the implication that I wasn't human and I definitely wouldn't fall into their game by passively going with them in the hope that they'd tell me what the hell they meant. I was entirely too smart and experienced to fall apart in confusion because of an obvious lie. So what, I asked myself as we entered the hotel where my dear pseudo-Aunt and her murderous son were apparently staying, was I doing here then?
They were lying, of course. They had to be. I was a human. I had ten toes, ten fingers, two eyes, a nose, and even a belly button. Life isn't Star Trek. If I was something that wasn't human, there'd be some kind of sign. I'd be different somehow. You know, like maybe I'd have super special abilities that no one else had. Crap.
But still, I was a human, wasn't I? I had human parents and I had a human life. I was normal, up until two years ago. Since then of course, I had been anything but normal, but that didn't mean my life before then was a lie. I was a human being, not a robot, mutant, alien, or any combination of the above. There was absolutely nothing strange about me short of my ability to see the future, heal the injured, and a complete inability to shut up when I really should. There are times when the latter is the most dangerous skill I possess.
"Wait, wait, wait. Let me guess again. You think I'm a shapeshifted dragon, right?" I continued my running commentary as we entered the hotel. You'd think being caught between the woman who made my life hell every time I saw her even before I knew she was evil, and the man who threatened to kill my parents would make me be quiet. But, I guess when you actively throw yourself in life threatening situations day after day, the first thing that dies is your sense of self preservation.
The custodial assassin elbowed me hard. "Shut up. Just shut up. Shut the **** up." He seemed a little on edge. I didn't know why, I was already walking with them and I was, naturally, unarmed. Why was he acting like he was transporting some kind of live bomb?
On the other side of me, as we moved through the hotel lobby where dozens of guests went about their business with no idea that a pair of serpents straight out of Eden walked among them, Maisie remained calm. Unlike her son, she seemed happy and excited. "Now, Micky, just relax. She's trying to goad you."
"Micky?" I echoed before turning my gaze sympathetically to the man. "Dude, I'm sorry. Here I thought you were a psychopath for no good reason, but first I find out your mom is Granny Goodness and now your name is Micky?"
He whirled on me, grabbing my arm hard as he raised his finger threateningly. "You're going to shut up right now before I cut your god damned tongue out and make you ****ing eat it, you stupid little ****!"
Maisie wasn't as easily provoked as her son, and gave him a solid push while maintaining her sickly sweet smile. "Get in the elevator, dear. You know the poor little lost dear is just trying to get you to make a fool out of yourself. People are watching. Don't fall for her juvenile game."
"Juvenile?" I protested. "That was at least a tenth grade level game. Give me a little credit. Oh! Wait, am I one of those immortals like from Highlander?" I frowned. "I'm not Scottish though. Do you have to be Scottish to be one of those? Is that some kind of prerequisite?" While I was practically shoved onto the elevator, I continued. "What about an alien? Am I a Vulcan? Do I have big ears?"
Once we were on the elevator and it began to rise, Micky shoved me hard against the wall. "Shut up." He sounded like a broken record, and like he was trying not to pay attention to me. His expression said he had no idea why his mother thought I was so important, because I had to be an ignorant little rambling child who couldn't even tie my shoes without help. Good, that's what I wanted.
I made a couple more guesses on our way up, but then fell silent when the elevator door opened to reveal a palatial penthouse suite. There were floor to ceiling windows around every wall that looked out over the city, an enormous flatscreen tv that was at least half the size of a movie theater screen, plush carpeting, even a room service cart with fresh fruit piled high on it. "Holy god." I breathed out.
"No, not one of those either." Micky muttered as he walked off the elevator and went straight to the fruit. He started to pick through it carefully, coming out with an orange which he began to peel.
I turned to Maisie then and folded my arms. "Okay, this is a great place." I tried not to sound too positive about that, considering I still had a cramp in my neck from sleeping on the bus. "But what do you want? Why am I here and what is it you think I am?"
Maisie raised a finger to her lips like she was shushing a child and gently picked up a small silver bell, which she rang twice before setting down once more. A moment later, a man in the uniform of the hotel staff emerged from one of the back areas and stood at attention. "Yes, Miss Morta?"
Morta? What was he talking about? Maisie's last name was MacFarquhar. She must have checked in under a false name, but why exactly would she need to do that? I idiotically wondered for about three seconds before remembering the psychopath currently munching fruit to my left. No wonder she didn't want to be here under her own name.
"Yes, Jensen." Maisie smiled before slowly reaching her hand out to point at the stiffly standing man. She tipped her squat little head sideways a little and dragged her finger through the air like she was tracing a line over his neck. I was briefly confused, and then horrified as the man abruptly dropped like he was a puppet whose strings had been cut.
My eyes widened and then I jerked forward, dropping down beside the man to turn him over. "Hey!" I couldn't find a pulse. He was dead. He had been fine seconds earlier and there hadn't even been a blue aura to tell me he was about to die. There was absolutely no reason for him to be dead. And yet, he just was. With one hand on his chest and the other pressed against his pale neck, I stared up at the woman who had killed him with a thought, without giving me the slightest warning. "What did you do?! What the hell are you?!" My jokes and proddings were gone. A man was dead and that was something I couldn't fix.
Maisie just smiled sweetly, shaking her head. "Oh do stop being so hysterical, you little child. It's unbecoming." She snapped her fingers. "Come." With that, she walked to the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony.
I shook my head, staying where I was. "No! Tell me what's going on. How did you kill him? Why?! Why are you doing this?"
The ugly, vile woman looked back at me pointedly. "I'm doing this, dear, to prove a point. And if you don't come here, I will continue proving my point with all the people that I can see from this balcony." She snapped her fingers once more like I was a dog and pointed at the spot next to her. "Now."
I didn't have a choice. While Micky continued to ignore us in favor of his fruit, I slowly picked myself up and walked that way, feeling numb. What was I supposed to do against a man who was a skilled enough assassin take down a trained cop without much effort, not to mention the woman who surpassed him to the point of killing by looking at someone?
As we moved out onto the balcony, I could see cars and pedestrians passing directly beneath us. In front of the building was the beach, where dozens, if not hundreds of people frolicked, surfed, and played with the waves. Maisie could turn a fun day at the beach into a holocaust, and she wouldn't even need to leave the comfort of her suite. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly helpless to stop what might happen.
Maisie remained silent for a minute. She watched the people below, and I watched her. I was looking for some kind of sign that she was going to kill someone else. I didn't know if she even needed to use her finger the way she had, or if that was simply for my benefit. But if she made the same move again, I had to do something. I have done stranger things than tackling a fat old woman, but I didn't know how long I'd last if I tried that. Even if she didn't turn her killing finger on me, her son would be out here in less time than it would take us to hit the floor. But, if she started her move, I had to try.
After an eternity and two minutes of silence, she began to speak. "Centuries ago, I was feared and respected by man and gods alike." Her voice was steady, though she sounded annoyed.
I twisted my head to look over the balcony before turning back to her. "Uh. I knew you were old, but damn." Honestly after everything that I had seen, I couldn't be the one to tell her she was insane. Maybe she was, but she had also just killed a man with a simple gesture and look. So at this point, nothing was out of the question.
I didn't even see her hand move until my cheek was stinging after she slapped me. "Silence. You are a child. You will learn respect." Her beady little eyes glared at me for a moment before she continued. "I determined when men would die. Regardless of their power, regardless of their fame, they all perished when I decided that their time was up. They respected me, flattered me, did everything to win me over. The Greeks called me Atropos."
She sounded nostalgic, and I let her keep talking. As crazy as this sounded, she did have a certain amount of credibility. Her voice turned hard then. "But, certain men cannot accept the way of things and began to search for a way to remove me from their lives. They thought they should be able to determine the course and end of their own destiny. They were fools." Her obviously rising anger was tapered by a self-pitying sigh. "But they were powerful fools. They discovered a way to destroy my body and trap me within time itself. For centuries, I drifted, unable to be born and yet unable to pass on. I was a prisoner of the void."
I decided to try speaking up. "No wonder you're annoyed. They didn't even send a gameboy or a book with you? That must have been pretty boring."
Her hot glare turned back to me angrily. "It was not boring! I spent the years crafting my escape, and my revenge. In time, I was able to create a new body, a new life for myself. I was reborn. At first, I was as ignorant as you. Then, throughout my pathetic childhood, I gradually became self-aware of my own past and my destiny. I would have the ears of kings and gods themselves would tremble before my words. But first, I had to know what had been done to trap me before, to ensure that it could never be done again."
"Right..." I said slowly, a little confused. "You needed to take their weapon away, if they still had it, before you made yourself known. But what exactly does that have to do with me? Sorry to tell you, but I'm not any kind of weapon. Do you think I'm supposed to be the one to trap you again?" The idea perked me up a little, because I definitely wouldn't have hesitated to use such an ability at that point. If I was lucky, I'd be able to get a twofer and nail the psychotic fruit grazer too.
Maisie laughed then, a tittering sound that grated my nerves. "Of course not, you silly, stupid little girl. You are not the weapon. You are the experiment. You are the... lamb if you will. If they found and trapped you, I would know who they were." She scowled, looking both annoyed and disappointed. "But you wouldn't cooperate. You kept your power secret. And you... you helped people." Now she sounded completely appalled.
"Uh." I started. "What's wrong with helping people? I mean, if you don't have megalomaniacal plans for world take-over and kneeling Gods, it's a pretty decent way to pass the time. It pays crap but at least I'm never really bored. Even if I don't have a gameboy either."
"You are not meant to help them!" Maisie all but shouted. "You are meant to use your power openly so that I can kill those who come after you! We are meant to rule this pathetic dustball!" Any trace of sweetness was gone. "The stupid, ugly little barely functional apes do not deserve your efforts! We are above them! We are above gods!"
I took a step back from her, shaking my head. "I hate to tell you, lady, but I'm not one of you. I don't want to rule over the ahhh, the human race. I mean, I kinda am one."
Both of her hands grabbed my arms and she glared, digging her nails into me painfully. "No, you're not." Her words were deliberate and hard, like a boxers three punch combo, tearing through my defenses.
There were no jokes, no guesses now. I stared at that old woman's eyes and asked in a plain voice. "Then, what am I?"
She continued to squeeze my arms as her smile returned. "I am the third fate, the third Moirai, Atropos." Her gaze burned directly into the center of my being. "I determine the end of lives. You are not here to save people. You are here to tell them what they will do with their lives! You will guide them to me. You determine the lives of man, and I determine their deaths. You are the second fate, the second Moirai. You control the course of lives, the course of their destiny. You are Lachesis. You are my sister."
