"Sorcha, Maddy's dead."  The voice was thick and rough with crying.  Nonetheless, Mab recognized Ben, Maddy's husband for nearly forty years.  They were the only people who called her by that name, at least who were still alive.  A name from the far distant past, and a name from the less distant past of Haight-Ashbury.

"What happened?" Mab asked gently.  Maddy had been out of the Game for decades, almost from the moment she had met Ben.  Against all advice she'd even quit carrying a sword.  After a hundred years in the game, Maddy should have known better, but Mab understood her friend's desperate desire to lead a normal life, just once.  Which one of the headhunters found her? Mab wondered as she rapidly ran through the list of possible suspects while Ben struggled for control of his voice.  She shoved her own grief aside -- there would be time enough later to cry.  Right now she wanted to know who had done this: who to hunt.

"I don't know.  The only other immortal who's been anywhere near us was a young boy Maddy took in.  It couldn't have been him," Ben explained in a bewildered tone.  "He was so small and frightened.  You know how Maddy always wanted children.  He was like a gift from Heaven.  He was happy with us, I know he was."  Ben paused as his voice broke again.

"Tell me about the boy, Ben."  Mab had a nasty feeling she knew what the rest of the story was.  Kenny -- that damn murdering little brat had just taken another head.  Kenny was a parasite feeding off the good nature and kind intentions of immortals who just couldn't believe that so much evil could reside in a child's body.  Mab knew better.  Marcus Constantine had warned her in detail about Kenny back in 1345, give or take a few years.  With her penchant for offering sanctuary to any immortal who requested it, she understood his concern.  Since then she'd heard rumors about a young immortal who took heads any way he could get them.  Their paths had never crossed until now.

"He was young, so very young and afraid.  He said he'd been in an accident.  His parents were killed, but he walked away without a scratch.  Kenneth didn't even know that other immortals existed until someone tried to kill him.  Since then, he'd been running and hiding.  When he first saw Maddy he begged her not to hurt him.  How could she not take him in?  Besides, he was real helpful around the place, although Silvester didn't much like him, but he's getting on in years and gets cranky around new people," Ben said affectionately.

Mab cursed silently in several different languages.  For a man who claimed to be in tune with the animal kingdom, Ben was surprisingly blind to the fact that if his dog didn't like someone, perhaps there was a reason.

"I had to go into town to get supplies.  When I got back, Kenneth was gone and Maddy was . . . ."  Ben broke down again in racking sobs.

Mab could guess the horrific scene he'd found when he returned.

"The sheriff thinks it was some stranger.  She hadn't been. . . bothered," Ben said skirting around the issue of rape.  Mab muttered sympathetic noises as if soothing a distraught animal.  No, as far as she knew, Kenny had never developed that particular perversion.  He just had a passion for killing defenseless immortals who were misguided enough to trust him.

"Ben, listen to me.  You're mortal, whoever came after Maddy won't bother you.  I'll deal with the person who did this, I promise.  Don't you even think about trying to follow Maddy," she added sternly.  "She'd be furious with you for abandoning her work."

To her relief, Mab heard a soggy chuckle as Ben tried to laugh and cry at the same time.  Maddy was a gentle woman, a badly misplaced Flower Child, but she'd had a temper that could strip the paint off the wall when she got going.

"I miss her."  Ben's plaintive admission tore at Mab's heart.  She'd always worried that Maddy would not survive Ben's passing; it hadn't occurred to her to worry about Ben.

"I know.  You expected to be the one to go first.  Maddy wouldn't want you to grieve yourself to death.  Remember, she believed in the flowers and the peaceful land that waited for you.  Believe now that she's there waiting for you, but wants you to take your time," Mab told him, trying to slip into the somewhat sappy jargon of the Flower Children to reassure Ben in the language he would understand.  Ben never quite grew out of his hippie phase, while Maddy moved from the Victorian pre-Civil War South to the culture of the Age of Aquarius with barely a stumble.  In Mab's opinion, both drenched death in unnecessary syrupy sweetness.  Mab hoped she wouldn't have to go on too long in this vein.  She loved Maddy and Ben, but they were both hopelessly naive.  Sponsoring their dream of a wildlife refuge and commune had been the only way she knew to protect both of them.  It had worked for nearly thirty years until Kenny found them.

"Ben, go feed the animals.  They'll be missing Maddy as well and you'll have to soothe them," she advised, injecting a slight note of encouragement in her voice.  Taking care of the animals Maddy had loved would give Ben something to focus on and help him remember that they depended on him.  Give Ben the feeling that he was needed and he'd survive.

"Thanks, Sorcha.  I'm going to bury her in the high meadow; you know, the one where we saw the bears."  Ben paused, then continued in a slightly stronger voice, "Can you come?"

"I'll be there, Ben," Mab promised.  After a long silence, Ben hung up.

Mab stared out the window at the hot steamy Washington weather and pondered her best course of action.  If Kenny had just killed, then he would go to ground until he found his next unwitting victim.  Mab closed her eyes as she considered what to do.  It had been centuries since her last hunt.  Her advantages were few, but significant.  Most immortals who'd known her thought she was dead.  She'd gone to a great deal of effort to disappear after the last Great War and it had worked.  While it was possible Kenny had heard of her, she'd never met him and he couldn't know what she was capable of in a fight.  She was not hampered by any uneasiness about fighting a child.  She was just about Kenny's height with more formal training than he'd ever had; the odds were even, if not slightly balanced on her side.  For centuries, he'd exploited his youth and his size to manipulate adult immortals into lowering their guard.  Now he would face someone who wasn't impressed by his youth and could fight him on even terms with no hesitation.

Moving absently around her shop, Mab considered one idea after another until she came up with a simple, even brutal plan.  She would make Kenny's life a living nightmare until he came looking for her.  Yusof had always told her to bring your enemy onto the ground of your choosing, then strike without pity or mercy and let Allah decide the victor.

"I miss you, Yusof," Mab whispered to the ghost of the immortal lover she'd lost six hundred years ago.  He'd been her master, then her lover for over thirty years, until a headhunter had taken his head.  It had been that long since she had gone hunting.  She hated actively hunting someone down to kill them; it poisoned her, but she couldn't step away now and allow Kenny to continue murdering good immortals.  Enough was enough.  If the other immortals wouldn't take him out, then it was up to her.  From what she heard, even Duncan MacLeod had come close to losing his head to Kenny because he didn't take him seriously enough.  Mab didn't want to hear that Kenny had taken down more of her friends because she wasn't willing to be ruthless enough to hunt him down.

Mab stared out over the snow-clogged forest and smiled.  She'd felt the first tentative touch of another immortal's presence last night.  It wasn't anyone she knew.  That didn't necessarily mean that it was Kenny, but the odds were good.

She picked up one of the thousands of posters she'd had scattered around the country.  Plastered across the center was a photo of Kenny that had been taken by Ben and a heartrending plea for the return of a lost and dearly beloved runaway child.  That might have been enough to mildly inconvenience Kenny, who liked to hide in the shadows, but the reward of five hundred dollars for information and two thousands dollars for his return had probably reduced him to the life of a fugitive.  Reports of sightings had come in from all over the country.  As soon as she picked up a pattern of his movements, she immediately flooded that area with more posters.  She'd had to deftly field a few questions from curious police, but she had been able to satisfy them that she was acting as the agent for a wealthy family worried about a runaway son.  All told, this campaign had cost her nearly five thousand dollars, so far, but she considered its effectiveness well worth the price.

Pouring herself another cup of hot tea, she tried to anticipate exactly how Kenny would attack.  Analyzing the pattern of Kenny's movements over the past two weeks, Mab could see that he was headed this way.  The posters had given the post office address of Marion, Virginia as the contact point and the postmaster in town had been instructed to give anyone who asked directions to this cabin.  It wasn't very hard to find as long as you knew which trail to follow up from the road.  She didn’t want Kenny to have a difficult time finding her.  He was taking longer than expected to appear, but the wait gave her a chance to pack down the snow in the clearing on the left side of the cabin.

Glancing out over the trail leading up to the cabin, Mab saw that none of her early-warning signals had been tripped.  Kenny might try to sneak up on her, but it would be hard going and he would be near exhaustion by the time he worked his way through chest-deep snow and the tangles of dead limbs and brush that conveniently blocked all avenues of access save the trail.  Meanwhile, she could just take it easy, stay warm, and let Kenny do all the work.

Mab considered the possibility that she might lose the fight.  Kenny was an underhanded, sneaky little bastard, but was he prepared to fight someone who was equally sneaky?  She didn't want to die, especially not after the surprise reunion she'd had with Edana and Alexandre over Christmas.  She'd last seen Alexandre, or Adam as he called himself now, when they rode on the Second Crusade with her beloved Queen Eleanor.  It was good to know that some old friends were still alive and doing well.  Mab allowed herself the luxury of indulging in memories while she waited for the first prickle to tell her that Kenny was making his move.  A useful thing, this instant awareness of other immortals -- it made sneaking up on an unsuspecting victim very awkward.

A muffled thump of small logs rolling down the trail told her that someone had just hit her early warning alarm.  It would seem natural enough, loose logs covered by snow dislodged by someone stepping on them.  Alert now, she waited.  Then, shortly after dawn, the prickle came.  For two hours, it remained a steady if annoying presence.  Kenny was close, but he wasn't making a move except to circle around the trail as if he was looking for another way in.

After another hour of waiting for Kenny to make his move, Mab decided that enough was enough.  If Kenny wasn't going to initiate this party, then it would be up to her.  Pulling on her parka and adjusting the hood, she made sure the jambiya was in easy reach inside on her jeans belt.   Finally, she picked up the falchion and slung it over her shoulder where it slid home in a specially designed scabbard.  The parka was about three sizes too big, hanging down over her knees and almost too bulky to fight in.  Taking a final look in the mirror to adjust her snow goggles, Mab saw a small woman buried in an oversize parka looking like a child playing dress-up in her father's coat.  Taking a deep breath, Mab opened the door.

Lady, Christ in Heaven, and anyone else who might be listening, stand by me.

The wind had settled down to a light breeze that barely shook the snow-covered trees.  Small snow devils swirled in spots where the wind picked up the snow and sent it dancing in a circle.  The sun was topping the far mountain, sending streaks of light bouncing off the snow.  If Kenny didn't have some sort of protection, he was going to be snow blind in another few minutes, but something told her that he wasn't going to wait that long.  None of her usual early morning visitors from the local animal population were around.  She sensed the stillness of the forest.  It was waiting for the fight to be over, for death to come and pass by, before it would resume its normal activity.  The cold impartiality of the forest to her upcoming battle calmed the last of her jitters.  She'd lived in the forest and abided by its ways for a good portion of her life.  It was fitting that this duel should take place here in the wilderness.

Walking carefully on the packed snow, Mab headed over to the hay feeder she'd put out for the deer.  It was hard to turn her back on Kenny, but he had to be lured into action.  She didn't want to spend the day chasing him through the forest.  That would give him the advantage.

A bone-shattering thump hit her square in the middle of her back, driving her down to her knees then face forward into the snow.  A second later she heard the echo of the recoil.

I'm going to have the mother of all backaches after this is over, she thought irritably.  So, he can't even fight fair with someone his own size.  Then what comes is of his own choosing.  Gods have mercy on us both.  Christ, I know you don't like violence, so if you'll just look the other way, I'll get this over with as quickly as possible.

Ignoring the aching throb in her back, Mab lay there, trying to listen for Kenny's advancing footsteps on the crunchy snow pack.  After the space of fifty heartbeats, she heard the first tentative step.  Apparently alarmed by the loud sound it made, Kenny froze.  Mab remained still.  The scabbard had swung to the front as she fell and the familiar grip of the falchion in her hand felt very reassuring.  It was hard to lie still, barely breathing while death crept up on her, but she made no sound.  Tracking her enemy by the soft crunching sounds his boots made against the snow, she waited until his shadow fell over her.

She sensed him move with that preternatural instinct that warned an animal just before the hawk swoops; Mab rolled out of the way of a vicious downward sweep of an axe.  Jerking the falchion loose from its scabbard, she rose to her feet, shrugging off the bulky parka.  Kenny was staring in total disbelief at his axe buried in the snow where a moment before she'd been lying helpless.

"How?" he yelled at her.  His anger at losing his easy shot was evident in the way he glared at her.

"Kevlar," Mab said with a grin as she circled around Kenny, forcing him to follow her.  She feinted and dodged back out of the way before he could bring the axe around.  It was so tempting to play with him, to drag this out until he fell to his knees exhausted and helpless.  She'd tasted that kind of killing once and had no desire to repeat the experience.  This was simply a job that had to be done and she refused to take any pleasure in it; revenge had a nasty habit of turning sour if consumed with too much relish.

"That's not fair," he pouted as he frantically looked around for a quick escape route.

"Shooting an opponent is?  Interesting set of rules you have," Mab replied calmly, forcing Kenny further away from the trail with a series of cut and slash attacks that he could easily counter, but which forced him to move in the direction she wanted him to move.

"I'm just a kid," he started in a plaintive voice, then stopped when Mab laughed.

"No, you're a killer hiding in a child's body.  I have no advantage of height over you.  It could have been a fair fight, but then you never fight fair, so I see no reason why I should fight fair either."

"Why?  I've never done anything to you," Kenny asked flailing at her with his axe, trying a sudden rush towards the trail and escape.

Mab stepped back to avoid the axe.  As Kenny rushed past her, she swung the falchion in a backhanded stroke that severed the tendons behind his right knee.  Kenny stumbled then crashed to the ground, moaning and clutching at his leg.

"You killed a very good friend of mine.  A friend who would have given up her immortality for the chance to have a child of her own," Mab told him grimly as she kicked the axe out of his reach.

"Please. . . ." Kenny pleaded as he stared up at the falchion.  "I'll be good, I promise.  Don't kill me."

Kenny looked like a scared child, until Mab saw the coldness in his eyes.  If she showed mercy, then others would die, herself among them.  This had to be done.

"There can be only one, Kenny, but you won't be it," Mab said sadly, but with finality.

Kenny screamed profane curses at her and tried to twist out of the way.  Bracing herself, Mab stepped on Kenny's wounded knee and waited until he instinctively grabbed for it.  With a single stroke she took his head.  His eyes still glaring at her, Kenny's head rolled down the slight incline until it came to rest against a tree.

Mab turned away, trying to get enough deep breaths to sustain her through the Quickening that was already forming.  Hopefully the evil that resided in Kenny would be outweighed by the good in the other immortals whose Quickenings he had taken.

"Come home, Maddy," she said in the split-second before the world shattered into a thousand blades of light, cutting their way into her.  The voices of a hundred immortals screamed around her as they broke free of Kenny and entered her.  Shaken to her knees, Mab fought to remember who she was as she drowned in an ocean of voices.  She felt Kenny's Quickening make one desperate assault to wrest control over her, then go silent as she rebuffed his attempt to dominate her. When the last voice was silent within her, the lightning faded and she fell face forward onto the cool, blessed snow and wept.

A few minutes later, shaken, but fully aware of herself, Mab slowly got up.  Moving like an arthritic old woman, she pulled Kenny's body to a prepared grave fifty paces inside the forest.  Placing his head gently between his crossed arms, she began to shovel the cold earth back into the grave.  With great care, she smoothed the ground over the grave until it lay flat.  By springtime, the grass and the brush would cover all signs of it.

"Go and find whatever peace you can.  Try to get it right next time, if any of us have a next time," she said in lieu of a prayer.  She felt no pity for him, only a sad satisfaction that he would kill no more.

Now, it was time she returned to her shop.  After all, she had three demanding beasts who would try to convince her that they had been starved and neglected all weekend.
 

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