AN: LAST CHAPTER! Yays!
Actually, I meant to post this days ago, but work has been keeping me pretty busy lately and it completely slipped my mind.

Ch12 Defeat

Jabez winced as something--he wasn't quite sure what it was--clattered to the floor behind him. He wasn't positive, but he didn't think that he had been the cause. Either way, the noise had come at an inopportune time, and for a long moment he had to remind himself to keep still--to assess whether or not the noise had raised any alarms for anyone who might have been nearby.

He was in a hallway of what he assumed to be the manor's lowest floor--the cellar, so to speak. The walls around him were of thick stone, and the heavy doors that lined the way were few and far between. Most of them were locked. There were very few, if any, places to hide should the need occur. And there was, perhaps fortunately, very little light by which to see; the darkness made it easy to see what little illumination came suspiciously from beneath one of the distant doors. It was that door he watched now, and though he listened intently he heard nothing moving in the dank cellar. He knew that he should have been able to faintly hear the music from the ballroom above, but that was hidden from him as well. Something about the basement caused some strange acoustics, it seemed. . . .

Then that distant door he had been watching finally opened and a shadowy figure stepped out, not quite pushing the door fully closed behind him. The figure's gaze went easily to Jabez's half hidden form, and though the elf tensed the distant shape made no further movement. Instead, with quiet deliberation he raised a hand and laid one finger across his lips in a hushing motion. Jabez merely frowned, and for a long few moments there was nothing at all to be heard.

Then the sounds came. Swift movement, the dull sound of contact, something clattering across the floor, and more rushed motion. A small sound of pain. Growled words.

Jabez stepped toward the partially open door, but Ensi was in his way--he didn't move much, but his small side-step was enough to let Jabez know that passing was not going to be a simple option. For a moment Jabez stared into the shadows cast over the other's face, but the elf understood quickly enough that he was not going to easily discern the features hidden beneath the cloak. He also understood that he probably didn't have time to deal with distractions.

With a swift movement the elf revealed one of many daggers he kept hidden on his person, and without hesitation he sent the weapon flying straight at the shadowy figure before him. It was something that Jabez had done before more times than he cared to count. Usually he hit his target, and the odd time he missed, but never before had he run into a situation such as this. It should have been damned near impossible, but the dagger had been caught by the stranger, easily between the palms of his hands. Worse yet, with a subtle shift the weapon was suddenly hurtling back the elf's way.

Jabez's instincts should have been enough to move him, if not completely out of the way, then enough to at least avoid the worst possibilities. But the elf certainly hadn't been expecting such a turn of events, and the utter shock of it all held him in place, staring helplessly.

The dagger bounced harmlessly off of Jabez's chest and clattered noisily to the stone floor. Unconsciously the elf rubbed at the place the dagger had hit--unnervingly, right over his heart. More unnerving was the fact that something told him that the attempt had been botched purposely, and had the stranger truly meant to sink the dagger into his chest, he would already be dead.

Again the shadowy figure laid one finger across his lips in a hushing motion, and this time Jabez stopped and concentrated on listening. . . .

There was nothing but silence, and that was by far more worrying than anything he could have heard.

Even through the shadows, Jabez could tell that the figure was grinning, and it was an unpleasant grin that hinted at things that the elf didn't want to consider.

When Ensi stepped toward him, Jabez tensed, but made no further movement. The elf had no intention of being killed, but neither did he want to start a fight if he could avoid it. Not with this creature, who almost certainly wasn't human. And, it seemed, Ensi also had no intention of starting a battle, though he had reasons of his own.

The creature paused very near Jabez, and held out something small and dark for the elf to take. Jabez did so slowly, and found himself holding a glove--Keena's glove.

"To remember her by," Ensi commented slyly. Then, without hesitation, he simply stepped aside to allow Jabez to pass, evidently unconcerned about any attack that the elf might decide to make. And truly, Jabez was no longer concerned with that particular individual. Instead, the elf was more worried about the door that stood slightly ajar, and the room that lay beyond it. Or, more specifically, what he might find there.

He didn't waste any time in nearing the doorway from which a small amount of light was originating. He did, however, hesitate before nudging the door open. He really didn't want to have to see.

He stepped into the room silently, a dagger already clutched unconsciously in one fist. Legion had his back to the doorway, and was climbing slowly to his feet. And, laying motionless on the cold floor, was Keena.

Then Legion was turning toward him, and Jabez moved on instincts alone. The dagger left Jabez's hand before Legion had even fully realized that there was someone else in the room--someone other than himself, or Keena, or even Ensi. And unlike Ensi's purposely foiled toss, Jabez's throw was accurate and intentional. The dagger sunk deeply into Legion's chest, missing his heart but piercing, undoubtedly, a lung. The man staggered aside, tripped over his own feet, and fell as his already weakening legs gave out on him.

Jabez was on him in a moment, one knee pressed harshly into the man's ribs. Before Legion could make as much as a sound Jabez wrapped his hand around the hilt that protruded from the man's chest, and yanked it roughly from the flesh. The man made a sound--a strange, wet sound--and blood welled up from between his lips. Jabez's emotionless gaze met Legion's oddly distant stare, and the elf felt no pity for the man, and no shame for his actions. The elf shifted the dagger in his hand, letting the tip of the blade hover mere inches above Legion's heart.

"Good-bye Legion," Jabez stated coldly, and with one swift motion he brought the dagger to bear, sinking it deeply into Legion's chest. The man made a final, small sound, and then everything was very still. . . .

Jabez stood slowly, leaving his dagger where it was. He made his way somewhat distractedly to where Keena lay, and sank to his knees beside her. Dully he took in her pale features, and realized that on some level this was his fault. Uncertainly he reached out a hand, brushing a strand of dark hair from her cheek . . . and was brought up short by a small sound, almost inaudible even to his sensitive hearing.

". . . Keena?"

There was no obvious response, but Jabez didn't really need one. His hand shifted instead to the young woman's neck, fingers feeling hopefully for a pulse, no matter how weak it might be. And it was there, a dull throbbing that promised possibilities that Jabez had given up on.

He had to get her to a hospital.

Ensi watched from the shadows of the hallway as Jabez lifted Keena and hurried from the cellar. It was likely, Ensi knew, that the elf hadn't even realized that he was still there. Not that it probably would have mattered if he had; Ensi doubted that Jabez would have paused to give him much thought--the elf seemed to be in a rush.

Slowly Ensi strolled into the room, the small lit space now obviously devoid of life. He peered down at Legion, the man staring up from the floor with empty eyes.

"You must have know that it would eventually end like this," Ensi said down to the body as his lips turned up in a maliciously amused grin. "I certainly couldn't stand working under you for long. It's only too bad I couldn't have killed you myself . . . but there was that deal we had. I think you'll agree that I kept my end of the bargain." He knelt then, beside Legion's corpse. "You should have told me to kill that elf," he said with amusement in his tone; he leaned over the body, his face close to that of the dead man. "But I suppose you wanted to do it yourself. Well, I guess it's too late now for me to be giving you advice."

Ensi raised one hand to Legion's neck, and when he pulled his hand back he brought with it a fine chain. Ensi flashed a toothy grin at his fortune, wrapped the chain once around his hand, and gave a sharp tug. It broke easily, and Ensi held up his prize. It dangled at the end of the chain like a pretty little bauble--a slivery trinket that one would hardly believe to be a key. It was a key that had taken a great deal of time and money and underlings--and finally an establishment specializing in hunting down such things--to find.

Ensi climbed to his feet and grinned down at the corpse once more, the chain and key dangling from his fingers. "This may have been your brainchild," he told Legion's lifeless body, "but we did have a deal. I think that after all that has happened, the very least we can do is finish this thing, isn't that so?" He paused, cocked his head aside slightly as though awaiting a response. "Of course, I have no intention of doing things the way you had planned. After all, why threaten to raise hell in an attempt to hold the world to your will, when you can truly raise hell and rend the world to bits instead?"

Keena's first conscious thought was that every breath she took caused her pain.

Her next thought was that if she was breathing, and in pain, then she was alive. This, though reassuring in and of itself, brought with it certain questions. Chief amongst them was this: What would she find when she opened her eyes? Would Legion be there, simply waiting for her to regain consciousness so that he could finish killing her. Or. . . . Or what? What else could be waiting for her?

Well, there was really only one way to find out. She opened her eyes, very slowly. What she saw wasn't what she had expected at all. The ceiling was much further away than it had been before she had lost consciousness, the room larger, though not much, and everything was disconcertingly white.

If this was heaven then it wasn't as pleasant as she had been lead to believe.

She blinked slowly, turned her head, and some of the glaring whiteness resolved itself into shapes. An initial glance was enough to let Keena know that she was in neither Legion's clutches, nor in heaven. She was in fact, if her surroundings were anything to go on, in a hospital.

And she was being watched.

Keena frowned at the shape seated in the room's sole chair, the instrument placed there for whatever sort of guest might dare slip past the hospital nurses in an attempt to visit the ill or injured. "What are you doing here?" she questioned. Though her tone wasn't nearly as displeased--or even as loud--as she would have liked, she was truly proud that she could speak at all. Her throat felt as though it was trying its best to close up completely.

The elf offered a small smile, despite Keena's words. "I'll have you know that I saved your live yet again. I think I have the right to sit here and stare at you until you feel highly uncomfortable."

Keena arched an eyebrow and took a long moment to take in Jabez's appearance, upon which she commented simply, "You look like hell."

"Thank-you. I could say the same to you, you know."

"I'm in a hospital bed," Keena retorted dryly. "I'm supposed to look like hell." She watched as Jabez's lips quirked up in a quick grin, and felt slightly disappointed when the small smile disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived. Keena sighed slightly; she knew that her next question was inevitable, and had a feeling that Jabez knew it as well. "What happened? To Legion."

Jabez seemed slightly hesitant, but responded, "He's dead."

Shifting, Keena turned her gaze back up to the ceiling, a small frown still on her features. She knew that Legion's death wasn't bad news, but she couldn't quite convince herself that it was all good, either. "Did you. . . ?"

". . . Yes."

"And Ensi?"

Silence. Keena understood, through the lack of response, that Ensi was still out there somewhere. Perhaps it meant nothing, and maybe he would simply disappear for a time. Or, it could be that things hadn't truly gotten any better at all, despite Legion's death. Keena pondered this for some time, allowing the silence to wear on as she considered possibilities. Her mind went, unwillingly, to Legion's words--the things he had told her when he felt certain she would die. And she thought of one more question for the elf.

"Jabez?"

"Hmm?"

Keena hesitated, reluctant. "That job you did for Legion, all those years ago. . . . What was it?"

For a long moment Jabez didn't answer, and when he finally did so it was with obvious hesitance. "He hired me to kill a small family--friends of his, he said. I was to use my AID to take on his appearance. He wanted them to know that he had a hand in it, I guess. But I screwed up. I killed the husband and wife, but there was a little girl. . . . I couldn't do it. I left her alive." He paused, and when no response was forthcoming from Keena he added, "It's hard to believe that after all this time, something like that would come back to bite me."

Keena couldn't bring herself to comment on that. Instead she swallowed back the emotion that was threatening to spill into her voice, and stated with absolute conviction, "You should go, now."

For a long while Jabez didn't respond, and when he did it was with nothing more than a defeated, ". . . Oh." Truthfully, it wasn't the first time the elf had been told to leave, nor, he believed, would it be the last. It went, quite often, with his chosen line of work. If he had hoped that things would be different this time around, he didn't bother to voice it.

He stood then, and Keena turned her gaze away so as to avoid meeting his. She didn't see the elf's movements, but heard him place something on the small table beside her bed. She listened, then, as he simply walked away.

It wasn't until she was certain that he was gone that she wiped away the tears that threatened to spill, and turned her gaze to the bedside table. Sitting there was a small bag, and Keena knew instinctively what it was that the elf had left behind. It was her payment--the money he had promised her for having to put up with him while she sought out Legion. Something in the back of her mind whispered to her that she didn't deserve the payment--that she hadn't done nearly as much, or as well, as she should have on any give job--that the elf had done far more than she, and could have done it without her.

For once, she didn't want the money.

But there was another item on the small table, and this one Keena reached for instinctively. She pulled her dragon scale glove from where it sat, and in an attempt to grasp at something familiar, she started to slip the item onto her hand.

She felt a slight resistance, and something crumpled slightly inside the glove. She pulled her hand out, and pulled out with it a piece of slightly rumpled paper. With uncertain fingers she unfolded the page, and her eyes went instinctively to the signature scrawled at the bottom of the page.

Written on the paper were directions, leading somewhere unnamed--a place that Keena couldn't even guess at the identity of--and the signature at the bottom read, simply, Ensi.

Keena wondered, vaguely, if she was ever going to get her vacation.

AN: Finito!
Now, I HAVE started revising the sequel to this, but I admit that I haven't gotten very far (a very short distance into the second chapter, actually). Hopefully it will begin to get posted before too long, but I WOULD like to try to finish Smile first. So, you know, I can't promise anything at the moment. . . .