Spinning Fate's Threads

Thanks to everyone. Sorry it\'s taken so long to get to this. Hopefully moving the plot along a little.



***





Abel looked in confusion from one twin to the other. “I don’t understand. Circe isn’t a fighter, not really. She never was. Why would it be her?”



“I’m guessing that she thinks she can pull from 02. That way it would technically be Abel who wins or loses rather than someone else,” Hunt said thoughtfully.



“Yes,” Abel said softly. “She can do that. I remember now. She’s done it before with Cain. Still, I can’t let this happen.”



“You can’t stop it, Abel,” Gun said. “Once a challenge has been issued and accepted nothing stops it.”



“But no one even asked me if I would do it.”



Gun sighed. “I know, Abel. As a general rule; if a female issues a challenge of a male then one of his soon to be adopted sisters or cousins or whatever accepts on his behalf and vice versa. Honestly, would you be willing to fight a woman? Even if it is Scáthach, who has zero problems fighting men. Seriously?”



“Not if I didn’t have to. But I don’t understand . . .”



“Come on, they’re about to start,” Hunt said, pulling his brother and Abel to where the rest of the family stood, looking tense and worried.



Seth came to stand next to Abel and patted his hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Abel. I’m sure Circe has a plan.”



Abel nodded somewhat stiffly. “Seth, do you remember when Circe was playing around with the ability she has to draw from other people’s powers?”



“Of course I do. It was the first and only time any of us had seen anything like that. She does make a pretty Crusnik, even if it’s only temporary. Why? Is she planning on using that ability today?”



“I think so,” Abel said. “At least I hope so.”



“Abel, how do you feel about everyone knowing about that?” Seth asked, looking up at him worriedly.



“I don’t know. I’m not wild about the idea. But I doubt anyone from this realm would be terribly afraid of what we are. If anyone in either of our parties freaks out too much I’m certain Star can alter their memories like before.”



Cailleach strode to the center of the area and raised one hand for silence. Immediately all conversation ceased in the stands.



“Challenge of Queen Edana’s adoption of Abel Nightroad has been made by Scáthach. Challenge has been accepted by the Duchess of Avalon. Do either of you wish to rescind the challenges?”



“Hardly,” Scáthach said with a snort.



“Not happening,” Circe said.



“As you are all aware, the Duchess of Avalon has the power to mimic or draw from the abilities of others. Part of this has been temporarily sealed by the Council and she can pull only from Abel Nightroad for the duration of this challenge. Meaning that any success or failure will be considered of his own merit. Challenge is to submission. First round is no weapons,” Cailleach said. “Take your positions.”



Both Circe and Scáthach took several steps away from the center of the arena then bowed slightly to one another. Cailleach stepped from the arena and onto the sidelines. “Begin.”



The two women circled each other, trying to gauge weaknesses or flaws in stance. Scáthach charged forward and Circe sidestepped only to have the back of her right knee kicked, causing her to tumble forward a little. Swing around, her fist connected with Scáthach’s jaw, sending her staggering backward in surprise. A sly smile formed on her bloody mouth and in a matter of seconds she had forced one of Circe’s arms behind her back and was trying diligently to shove her elbow between her shoulderblades. Circe snarled and reverse headbutted her, the back of her head connecting with the other woman’s forehead and nose. That managed to gain her her freedom but also managed to piss Scáthach off tremendously.



Scáthach had her face down on the floor, again trying to at very least dislocate her shoulder.



“I don’t know if I remember how she did this the last time,” Abel said to himself, feeling slightly panicked. “I remember now. Direct feed mode.” He took a deep breath and focused on Circe. “Crusnik 02, direct feed, ten percent. Acknowledged,” he said under his breath.



Crusnik 01, direct feed, ten percent. Acknowledge.



To those watching it suddenly seemed that Circe had gotten a shot of adrenaline. She threw Scáthach off of her easily before rolling to her feet. Her response time to the other woman’s attempts to hit her now bordered on being precognitive as she managed to block and strike simultaneously. No one seemed to notice the subtle shift in her appearance. Not even the stranger than usual shift of her eye color from the normal blue/gold to red or her hair moving of it’s own volition.



Scáthach managed to get her hands around Circe’s throat and had a solid hold on her that Circe didn’t seem capable of breaking.



Crusnik 01, direct feed, twenty five percent. Acknowledged.



“Crusnik 02, direct feed, twenty five percent. Acknowledged.”



The ties holding Circe’s hair in place suddenly unraveled and her hair fanned up and out. Everyone watched in fascination as strips of her dark hair began to lose color, fading to silver and gold bands. Her now clawed fingers peeled Scáthach’s hands away from her throat. A positively malicious smile formed on her lips and she drew back and struck the other woman in the sternum with the heel of her hand. There was a “crack” and Scáthach flew backward the full length of the arena to land hard on her back. Wings unfolded from Circe’s back; black on the outside and white underneath as she began stalking toward her opponent.



Seth shot Abel a worried look. “Abel?” she questioned.



“That can’t be, Seth,” Abel said, looking at Circe worriedly. “I only did a direct feed of twenty five percent. None of us have wings until forty percent. This shouldn’t be possible.”



“Unless . . .”



“Unless what?”



“Unless she’s somehow pulling power from Cain as well. They’ve been bonded since we were children, those bonds don’t sever completely no matter the time in between or lack of reinforcement.”



“That would mean he’s somewhere close by,” Abel said, his eyes narrowing.



Seth nodded and gave him a hard look. “Abel, this isn’t about chasing Cain right now.”



“I won’t go after him now. I’m more worried about helping Circe get through this since she’s risking a lot for me.”



Cailleach walked to the center of the arena. “First round to the Duchess of Avalon. Final round is weapons. Defeated has first choice.”



Scáthach got to her feet, glaring at Circe. “Spear. Gae Bolg!” A wicked looking spear appeared in her hand and she was smiling nastily.



Astaroshe shot Seth a strange look. “Empress, can she summon my weapon?”



“I’m guessing what she’s called is the original version of your spear, Asta. Since she is the original owner of it and it was passed back to her after Cu Chulainn’s death, I don’t see where it would be a problem for her.”



Cailleach turned to Circe, looking at her expectantly.



Circe smiled a little. “I have no need of weapons,” she growled.



“What is she doing?!” Able said in disbelief. “Crusnik 02, direct feed, forty percent. Acknowledged.”



Crusnik 01, direct feed, forty percent. Acknowledged.



The edges of Circe’s wings suddenly turned silver and gold then seemed to sharpen to points.



Cailleach stepped out of the arena once more. “Begin!”



Scáthach approached Circe with a lot more care and caution that the last time. She managed to slide away from the first slash of one of Circe’s wings. She shoved the spear through the left wing joint and the spearhead split into dozens of other points, ripping through bone and muscle alike. She hadn’t counted on the other wing’s ability to function independently as the sharp tips ripped into her leg and side, cutting deep through the softer tissues and down to the bones.



“Submit or die,” Circe said, smiling at the other woman.



Scáthach sneered at her. “You’re losing control of it. There’s too much power for you to hold much longer,” she said, watching minute sparks of electricity begin to form around Circe. “I can feel you starting to shake from the effort to contain it all. You won’t last much longer,” she said, using all of her strength to twist the spear deeper.



“I’ll last long enough to finish you off before everything fails,” she said, bringing up both hands worth of wickedly sharp claws into her abdomen and lifting her off of the floor with them buried deep. Scáthach held back a scream as the sharp claws dug into the muscle and organs.



When Circe pulled her hands in opposite directions with her claws still buried in the other woman, Scáthach had no choice. “Yield!”



Cailleach stepped back into the arena. “Cease! Challenge is won by the Duchess of Avalon!”



Circe released Scáthach from her hold and watched silently as the healers came to take her from the arena. She sank to her knees as soon as they had removed the other woman from sight, her body shaking and sparks of electricity starting to swirl around her.



Oracle and Mastermind had already started moving toward their daughter when Skye stopped them. She shook her head and looked at Abel and Seth.



“What’s happening?” she asked.



“Too much power,” Abel said, starting to move to where Circe knelt in the center of the arena.



“Skye, if I work with you can you and Star help me hard shield everyone else in here?” Seth asked.



“Of course.”



Abel was approaching Circe very carefully, mindful of the wild shots of sparks and bolts of lightning that occasionally came from her. He was a few meters away when it seemed as though she had been wrenched backward by unseen hands, her head and shoulders touching the floor of the arena. When she opened her mouth, the scream shattered every bit of glass in the surrounding walls and ceiling of the place. Bolts of lightning and power striking and rebounding off of the hard shields that Skye, Star and Seth had put up.



This kicked Abel into high gear and he ran to her, sliding on his knees a little as he reached her. Gathering her up, unmindful of the sharp bolts striking him over and over.



“Crusnik 02, withdraw direct feed. Acknowledged.”



Crusnik 01, withdraw direct feed. Acknowledged.



The sparks flying around suddenly ceased and the magnificent wings started to shift and sink into her body. The claws retracted and the red from her eyes faded slowly until the only evidence left of the power feed were the remaining gold and silver streaks in her hair. Her eyes closed and her head lolled back against Abel’s arm.



“Circe? Circe?! Can you hear me?”



She’s safe, brother dear. She’s merely injured and exhausted from the direct feed.



Abel growled a little. Cain, if you so much as think of hurting her after all of this . . .



Why would I harm her for any reason? And by the way, Abel, you’re currently holding my queen. Just remember that I hold yours as well.