Epilogue

We're ridin' in the whirlwind searchin' for lost treasure
This Hard Land, Bruce Springsteen

Abbeyview Heights Industrial Estate, Dunfermline, December 10^th

Gabriel staggered to his feet, off-balance and disoriented by the concussive blast that had followed Sophie's lunge. He remembered masking her approach, muffling the sound of her footsteps and ragged sobbing.

Caerys had also done something, he remembered, because Sophie's image had shimmered and disappeared from sight until the last moment, when she struck. Camael's form, much as when Gabriel had used it on his father's constructs, had withered and shrivelled into dust. At the last, with only the skull remaining wedged around the heavy knife, it had exploded, and everything had gone dark.

Shaking his head clear again, Gabriel turned as Caerys groaned from somewhere nearby, and saw Sophie perched over her. A gentle, white glow surrounded the doctor's hands, strands of light reaching out to wrap around Caerys, stroking gently here and there, and when they filtered back the cuts and bruises were gone.

"Are you alright?" he muttered, leaning on Light wearily, feeling Gilgamesh's poison still eating into the flesh of his arm.

"I'm... I'm fine!" Caerys was amazed, reaching up to brush the spilt blood from her face, but finding no cuts or bruises anywhere. Sophie remained ominously silent, blank-faced and distant. She approached Gabriel hesitantly, flinching when he looked at her.

"What's happened to you?" Gabriel asked her, seeing the silver-white glow appear around her hands again.

"She's absorbed Camael's power." Caerys interrupted, quickly. It wasn't the question Gabriel had been asking, but as he turned to say Caerys shook her head gently to dissuade him.

"What was... what is it?" he asked, still facing Caerys as Sophie edged around him just out of reach.

"He was a healer, it seems." Caerys raised her unharmed arms, turning them this way and that which only served to display dried blood and ground in dirt, but he understood the implication.

Sophie reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, and the silver light flared around him, warmth and comfort spreading slowly through his limbs. The burning sensation in his arm dimmed and died, to be replaced with an itch as the skin and flesh slowly knit back together. His arm closed up, and the aches and pains of the days accumulated battering started to diminish.

He turned to face her, but her eyes were closed, focussing on what she was doing. He remembered the state she'd been in when she'd appeared in the doorway, battered and bloodied, and reached up to touch her cheek in amazement at how it looked, clear and unblemished.

The light flickered and died, and her slap caught him alongside the face with an incredible power, spinning him to the floor. Weeping and sobbing, muttering things to herself beneath her breath, Sophie wrapped her arms about her own waist and ran from the ruin of the warehouse.

"Are you alright?" Caerys asked him, already looking out the door where she'd gone, looking to follow.

"Go, see to her, I'll be fine," he assured her.

"It's not personal," Caerys tried to tell him. "She's just upset about the magic — she wanted to go back to normal, and wasn't sure she could."

"She sure as hell can't now," he replied, and Caerys gave a tight-lipped nod of agreement. She ran off, chasing Sophie, and by the time Gabriel had finished searching the area for anything else the two women had returned to the van.

"Everyone's either dead or they've run off," he explained, opening the sliding door to stow Light and Dark. Caerys was sat in the middle row, but Sophie and Christophe — still drowsy after his drug-induced sleep — were clustered by the back door.

Gabriel slammed the door closed a little more forcefully than necessary, irritated at being seen as the villain somehow, and trying to appreciate the frustration Sophie felt. For himself, once he'd gotten over the fear of imminent death in his transformation, he'd seen the possibilities in his powers, recognised them as weapons and tools to be used, unconcerned for his place in the general populace.

For Sophie, he realised, despite everything, that place was still her priority, and in victory it had been jeapordised.

"Where are we going?" Caerys asked, as he brought the engine to life.

"Germany." He resisted the urge to turn and see the accusation in Sophie's glance. "I have a safe-house there, and I can arrange some identities for you both while we lay low."

"Sounds good." Caerys' false enthusiasm was obvious, and Gabriel just pushed the minibus into gear, pulling away, wondering why the victory seemed so hollow.

Guterslöh, Germany, December 11^th

The safe-house was actually a modern, open-plan apartment, and Gabriel stood aside to let the three of them in. Sophie edged past him, still not really talking to anyone, but completely silent where he was concerned. Christophe, subdued by his mother's obvious troubles, trailed through and immediately headed towards the seating area, settling himself in to the soft chairs and draping one of the large, soft cushions over himself like a blanket.

Caerys winced in sympathy at the frustration obvious on Gabriel's face as she followed the others in and laid her bags down to one side.

"Anyone for a drink?" she asked, brightly. Christophe's hand appeared over the top of the seat, and Sophie gave a nod from where she stood by the window.

"Kitchen's through there." Gabriel gestured with his chin past the seats, and Caerys set off with a smile, determined not to succumb to the sadness that seemed to be afflicting the others.

Gabriel's frustration was more obvious by the hour as Sophie continued to blame him for what had happened. The journey had been long and wearying for them all, but Caerys felt sure that now they had somewhere to settle, everything would be fine.

They could relax, recover, talk things over and everyone would come around.

Rinsing the kettle out she refilled it and plugged it in, checking the cupboards for supplies and unpacking the small bag of fresh goods they'd bought, humming a tune to herself quietly.

"You seem happy," Sophie spoke, quietly, from the doorway.

"We won. We get to live again tomorrow. That's what it's all about, isn't it? Life tomorrow." Tears appeared in the corner of Sophie's eyes and she made to turn away, but Caerys called her back, quietly.

"It's not his fault, Soph."

"What?"

"He's as much a victim of this magic as you are. He didn't choose it either." Sophie's eyes narrowed for a moment, and she nodded, once.

"I know." For the first time, Caerys began to wonder if she'd read the situation correctly. Sophie began to walk away, and Caerys felt a cold shiver up her spine as she heard the quiet French-accented direction to Gabriel to put Christophe's bag on her bed.

"She just needs a little time," she decided, muttering quietly to herself. "Just some time..."

Guterslöh, Germany, December 25^th

Caerys awoke slowly, feeling the chill of the air in the barely heated apartment. Despite the fact it was Christmas, she didn't expect joy and good tidings, or even a let up from the routine. For two weeks she'd spent her days alternating between helping Gabriel with his search for a way back to where Giselle had been and trying to break through the barriers Sophie had erected between them.