Chapter 24

Great Sand Sea

Kym could hear her husband's voice before she crawled over the dune's crest. "Derek?" she said hesitantly.

"Hello," he replied. "Did William tell you where I was?"

"Maybe." She settled into the sand beside him. "I just wanted to check on you."

Derek switched off his flashlight and set his papers aside. "I'm glad you came. I'm sorry about last night... and today," he said quietly. "I should have said something sooner."

Kym was slightly surprised. Like his mentor, Derek was not a man who easily apologized. "I'm sorry I kept annoying you," she said.

"No... it wasn't your fault... nor William's... but don't tell him that," he added quickly.

"You can count on it," she whispered with a conspiratorial smile on her lips.

The young man sighed. "I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of this." He dribbled a fistful of sand over the folders. "I didn't have to cram like this even in school. So much of this means nothing to me. At least in school it made sense."

Kym was coming to understand that her husband usually said less than half of what he thought or meant, which was quite a change from her family, where everyone said exactly what they felt to at least one other person. "Plus... you had every reason to have a headache," she commented helpfully.

"Don't remind me," he said with chagrin.

Chilly, she grasped his arm and put it around her shoulder to snuggle into his body. She giggled. "Only I could be in the middle of the Sahara and be cold."

"Deserts are like that...," said Derek, "nothing to hold the heat once the sun's gone."

They sat quietly for a moment, enjoying the simple feel of each other's bodies. Finally, Kym asked, "What would you be doing if you weren't here?"

Derek replied, "I'd probably be in my office going over Luna expense reports... not much difference, is there?"

Men!... Kym smiled. It went right over his head... or did it? "No," she corrected. "I mean if there was no Legacy... no Luna... what if we were just normal?"

Her husband chucked. "Have you and William been commiserating? He just asked the same thing. I told him I'd never allowed myself the luxury of speculating... but...." He hesitated. She could sense his gray-matter at work. "I suppose I might have been a teacher... or a priest."

"Oh, heaven forbid!" Kym cried in jest, pretending to be horrified at the image.

"No," he continued thoughtfully, "if I'd had the chance... a pianist... perhaps, a composer."

Kym seized her opportunity. If she played the part of the gardener maybe she could open him up like a prized rose that must reach perfection on the day of the show. "Would you have liked a family... a safe, steady job?" she probed.

With mellowness, he replied, "A family... certainly. We'll have one. But... I'm not sure I could handle a steady, normal type job. I've never really known anyone who has one... I'm afraid I'd be in the asylum after three weeks or so."

"Yes," Kym agreed, "you probably would."

Derek leaned back to study the stars. After a few minutes of silent companionship, to his wife's surprise, he continued, "I have to admit," he sheepishly confessed, "that I rather like the thrill."

Kym chuckled tonelessly. "I am incredibly aware of that."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know... it's hard to explain. Sometimes when a case comes along... I feel like a hunting dog must feel when it's on the scent... there's joy in the chase and the fight... and the kill." He paused, then continued, "Besides, God gave me what it takes to be good at this... really good. I can't waste His gift... or shirk the responsibility that came with it," he explained without pride.

Uneasy at her husband's revelations, Kym laughed. "Interesting analogy," she commented, trying to lighten the mood. "Kind of gross, but interesting." Suddenly, she turned to tickle him in the ribs the way she used to do to her brothers, when they had become worried or morose. "Well... I don't want to picture you as some long-eared, droopy-eyed, old bloodhound... even though that's probably what you'll look like in fifty years," she giggled.

Derek laughed a good laugh, filled with humor. Kym beamed at the sound, which was a rarity she hadn't heard in weeks. "I love to hear you laugh," she said happily.

"I don't do it often enough, do I?"

"No," she stated, "but I love you anyway." She knew she was reaching into emotional waters that might suddenly ebb away... or, overwhelm her.

"I love you, too, Liefje," her husband whispered. He chastened himself... this was something he said as rarely as he laughed. "It's difficult for me. You're teaching me to be happy... I've never had what you could call a 'happy' disposition. It's an effort for me to open up enough to let anyone in. It's hard for me to trust." He hesitated. "I think having the 'Sight' did that... being the different one at school... and trying to hide it... to keep my secret... to respect others' privacy."

Kym took his hand in hers to give it a tight squeeze. "I have the 'Sight,' too, but I trust you."

"Do you?" he asked, his thoughts turned toward their confrontation in the car on her birthday... and to what he had inscribed in her crescent ring, Love hath need of faith.

She read his thoughts. "I trust you with my life," she assured him.

"Kym," Derek said sincerely, "don't trust anyone with that... especially not me."

"Why not? You wouldn't let anything happen to me." Panicked, she wanted him to know that, just because others around him had died, it didn't mean that she trusted him any the less.

"I'd die to protect you," he declared.

"I know, sweetheart," said Kym. "We've all lost people that we've loved. It's inevitable, but it doesn't mean that it's our fault, or that we shouldn't love." She stroked his cheek as she looked into his eyes.

"My logic agrees," said Derek, touching her hand. "You said once that you wanted to understand. I don't know if I can make it make sense. Sometimes... I feel like my family is...." He paused, then began again, "It's as if we let people about whom we care have a peek at the 'other' side... and they're lost. Even my father couldn't resist the lure. I don't want to be a conduit for those I care about... I don't want to be the reason they lose themselves."

Kym listened. The rose was blossoming in ways she didn't expect or want.

The precept continued, "It makes me uncomfortable when people try to connect... a compliment... an attempt at a friendship... it takes me a very long time to accept someone. Can you understand now?" he asked. "You're helping me... but there'll always be a part of me that shuts even you out."

Kym felt tears begin to rise and her throat begin to tighten. She didn't need her special link to Derek to know the certainty of his words. "I do understand, Derek," she professed. "But, you're my husband, lover, and best friend... and I can't accept that. We swore to be honest and open with each other... it's embedded in that marriage vow... in the 'honor' part. There's nothing I wouldn't tell you."

"Are you sure?" he asked intently.

Nervously, she wondered if her husband already knew of her membership in the Wicca coven. Had Johnny told him, or had he already known?

"Can't you foresee the instance when you have to preserve something of yourself?" he asked. "Would you always be honest... even if it was dangerous for me?"

"I would die for you," Kym declared passionately.

"I don't want you to die for me... that's the point," he said in frustration. "I'll tell you something I've never told anyone... even Ingrid, though I think she suspects. "Our father was drawn to the dark side. He said it was in search of the truth... of the knowledge to defeat evil... know thy enemy... but it fascinated him. I feel that too... it calls... but, at least, I know that I feel it... and, I know what it is... and I'm the stronger for knowing. He never knew."

Innocently, Kym had never realized that her blossoming rose would have such a dark interior. It terrified her that Derek was this black rose. "I don't want us to have secrets," she pleaded.

Derek hugged her tightly. "All I can promise is that I shall try... but, just as liking the thrill is part of my nature... so's this... and I must protect others from it.

"Now... let's turn this conversation toward something practical," he said. "There's something that you must promise me."

"What?" she asked abruptly, eager to change the course of the discussion. Sadly, she now knew things about her husband that, perhaps, she didn't want to know. His depths petrified her.

"If anything happens to me, promise me that you'll find someone else... and don't blame William. There are some things you need to know."

Kym's jaw dropped... this was turning the conversation toward something practical? "I can't deal with this," she said as she started to rise.

"Liefje," said Derek, grasping her hand to hold her down. "Listen," he commanded. "I've changed my will. I've named William as chairman of Luna... you will be on the board of directors along with my mother and Ingrid... all of you with two votes, each." He spoke quickly, as if hurrying to get it all in before Kym stopped listening. "You and William will be co-executors of my personal estate.... This is important... are you listening?" he asked.

Kym's head was spinning. She didn't want to hear this. She nodded.

"There can be only two Legacy members on Luna's board at any one time... each with only one vote. The sword is not to be counted as a part of Luna, the Legacy, or my estate... William, Mother, and Ingrid will decide it's fate. Do you understand all of this?"

"No," Kym whimpered. "I don't want to understand this."

"Honey," said her husband, "They're just precautions. Luna is no small thing. There's more... will you listen?"

"Can I throw up first?" she asked, half in sarcasm, half in all earnestness.

He patted her hand and laughed. "Just not on me... it's a big desert. Seriously... if Luna, the island, and all the rest weren't such a big responsibility, this wouldn't be necessary." He hesitated. "If I should become incapacitated... there's a living will... you and William will have powers-of-attorney... William for Luna and the museum... you for my personal estate... and me. This will also kick in if, for any reason, I am missing or incommunicado for more than ninety days."

Kym suddenly looked up at her husband. "We were just talking about trust. Is this another way of telling me that you don't trust me?" she asked. Her memory flicked back to that night in the car... when her husband had told her to grow up. Did Derek truly consider her so immature that she had to have William Sloan as a watchdog?

"Trust you?" He was confused at the sudden turn. "I don't understand. I have to make sure everything is in order. If something were to happen, I'm trying to make sure it will be as easy for you and Mother as possible." He sensed her suspicion.

"Kym... I'm trusting you to make the ultimate decision for me."

"Which is?" she asked in irritation.

"If it comes to it... to let me die."

The breath left her as her face drained of blood. Kym turned to look at Derek in complete disbelief. The shock of that short, nine word statement was so complete that she was speechless... without even a thought.

"It's all right, honey," said Derek, hugging her close.

Finally, her throat opened and she caught her breath. "I don't want to let you die. I can't... you're so young."

"Schatje," he whispered in her ear. "Nothing's going to happen... but I need you to know how I feel. If it ever were to come to that, you know I would fight as hard as I can... but if I can't... if my mind is gone or if my body is too weak to sustain itself, let me go.... I need to hear you say that you understand and would let me go."

Kym didn't understand. Images flashed through her mind... of Bernardo's torn, bleeding body... of Johnny screaming at the Zarzuela House that he couldn't get a pulse... of Derek's hand stretched on the ground. He was demanding her promise to help him commit suicide... no... he was asking her to commit murder.

"Kym," Derek said firmly, "will you, as my wife, promise me this? Swear to me on the crescent ring," he pleaded.

The young woman stifled a sob. "I promise."

"Thank you, Liefje." He sighed in relief. "I love you all the more for this." He pulled her over to kiss her forehead. "I didn't know this would upset you so. It's just business. Now... long day tomorrow. Why don't you go on... I'll be there in a minute or two."

Kym climbed to her feet and ran down the opposite side of the dune. Just business!

* * *

Wiping her eyes on the cuff of her shirt, Kym strode into camp. Sloan and Boyle looked at each other.

"Kym... are you all right?" asked William, rising.

"Yes," she said firmly.

He could see that her hand was shaking. "Where's Derek?" he asked, stretching his senses into the darkness.

The young woman glanced behind her as she replied, "He should be right behind me. Can I speak to you for a moment, privately?" she asked with a sniff.

"Of course," said the precept as he led her over to the truck. "What is it?"

Kym let out an enormous sigh. "Has Derek talked to you about his living will?"

"Yes," he answered honestly.

"Why am I always the last to know?" Kym questioned herself in exasperation.

"I thought I had that honor," William laughed. "My dear... it's common practice... we all have them... where it's legal. We all always keep our affairs in order... just in case." Calmly, he continued, "I know that he made some changes after New Year's, but sometimes it takes the lawyers a while to prepare things."

Sloan was perplexed... why would Derek choose to bring this up at this moment? When he added Kym's conversation with his own, he didn't at all care for the sum... and he cared for it even less when he factored in Christina's rhyme.

"Do you know what roles you and I play?" the young woman demanded.

"No," replied the precept. "He hasn't discussed it with me."

Kym looked up at him. In an almost accusing tone, she bitterly declared, "You are to handle the money... and I am to pull the plug."

"I don't understand," Sloan said. "Are you worried about the money?" he asked. He was barely able to cloak the disgust he suddenly felt. "Don't worry, my dear, you stand to inherit quite a substantial amount."

"I don't give a damn about the money," Kym exclaimed, stepping away from the older man.... How could he possibly think that? "You can have it all for all I care.... No... my husband has just made me promise to kill him if needs be." She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Derek just gave me a verbal DNR order.... He said that if something happens to him, we are not to take extraordinary measures to prolong his life... and I am to find someone else."

"What?" William's stomach was churning. He hadn't expected this. "Kym... dear... it's up to him." He was trying to convince himself as much as this distraught young woman. "We sometimes do very dangerous work.... With his instructions, it takes the weight from your shoulders... you know what he wants... you won't have to decide. I've told Patty the same thing."

"Perhaps she and I should do lunch sometime," Kym muttered. "Somehow... that doesn't make it easier."

The precept patted her arm. "It will never be easy. I've had to do it." He paused. He had to find something to say to Kymberlee Rayne, who desperately needed comfort. "Don't let this get to you. Derek's just being careful... being married is a new ball game for him."

"It's new for me too, but... a DNR?"

"My dear... he's trying to let you know that he trusts you to know when to give that directive. It's not easy for Derek to trust."

"That's what he said. I just wish he'd have shown it in a different way," she sighed.

"Any coffee left?" asked Derek casually as he strolled into camp.

"Well," said Johnny, "Mohammed has come down from his mountain.... There's a little left in the pot." He pointed toward the fire.

"You need more than coffee, my friend," said Sloan, turning away from Kym. He looked the younger man up and down... Derek was acting as though he hadn't a care in the world. What was it cloaking?

"I'll eat something later... I promise," Derek said as he sat on the camp stool by the fire. He blew the grit from his coffee cup and reached down for the pot. "Did I interrupt something?" he asked.

"No... nothing at all," his wife responded, a little too quickly.

Derek gazed into the fire as he poured the coffee into his cup. Suddenly, he froze. The golden flames danced.

"Sloan," whispered the major, without taking his eyes from his friend's face.

When the coffee cup began to overflow, he gently wrenched it from Derek's long fingers and pushed the pot aside.

"Derek? Can you hear me?" William asked quietly. He squatted down beside the young precept, but did not reach over to touch him.

"Hmmm?" the psychic murmured. "Yes? What?" he asked dreamily, not taking his eyes from the fire. Suddenly it was gone... he noticed his wet hand and the empty coffee pot. "Dammit!" he exclaimed as he reached for the towel the major offered.

"Did you burn your hand?" Kym asked. She felt sick. This was all too much... it was smothering her... her own emotions... his emotions... realization of the mission's seriousness, the thought of ever having to issue a DNR order, now another vision. Suddenly, she wished that she could be five years old again. She wanted her daddy.

"It's fine," replied Derek, wiping off his hand. "Just a little scorched." He gave his wife an embarrassed half-smile. "But, I seem to have emptied the coffee pot." He paused, trying to sort out what he had just seen.

She had to escape. "Excuse me," Kimberlee said quickly as she turned and ran away to vomit in the darkness beyond.

"Kym? Honey?" Derek called. "What's wrong?" He started to rise, but a wave of dizziness overtook him and he thought the better of it.

Sloan placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder to steady him and hold him down. "Derek... what was that about?" he asked with masked concern.

"I don't know," he replied slowly, with thought. "When I looked into the fire... I saw fire." His voice sounded distant in his own ears. "Someplace... a large chamber with gold walls and pillars... a circle of flames and something that was like a tornado... all bright as the sun."

William handed him his cup, filled with water. "Drink," he said. Everything about this mission was adding to the elder precept's uneasiness. It seemed to have as many curves the Mississippi delta.

Derek took a sip of tepid water. "I don't know where it is," he said, certain that it had something to do with the happenings at Al-Kufrah. "...whether it's real... or what it means," he added. "Did you say something to Kym? Is something wrong?"

Sloan and Johnny looked at each other. Both men shook their heads at their young friend's innocence. Sloan read the look behind the soldier's eyes... he just doesn't get it. He had to smile... here he had before him probably the most psi-gifted person in the Legacy, yet he honestly didn't understand.

Finally William decided to enlighten him. "Sometimes I wonder if having the 'Sight,' decreases brain activity in the common sense arena. She's a little upset about your earlier discussion."

After a moment's thought, Derek asked, "The will? Should I go after her?"

"Amongst other things," the elder precept replied. "Leave it," he cautioned.

CHAPTER 25

E-mail: Dubricus

CONTENTS

E-mail: Selena

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