You didn't really think I'd kill Marguerite, did you?

XXX

The night was uncomfortable for Finn only partly because she was forced to stay in the same position for hours.

She was still tied to the tree and though no predators had yet come around, she knew it would only be a matter of time. It was surprising that raptors hadn't already made a meal of her and Marguerite's body. The mixture of fear and grief left Finn exhausted beyond tolerance, but all she could do was lean back and hope for some rest uninterrupted by a hungry dinosaur.

Insects droned on as darkness enveloped the jungle. Despite the lack of sun, it was still warm enough for Finn to feel a trickle of sweat down her arm. She knew she'd be sporting a number of bug bites in the morning along with marks from the rope.

There was a gentle hissing from a snake or cockroach nearby. Finn tried to ignore it.

The few times Finn managed to close her eyes and rest, she was disturbed by strange dreams. At least, she assumed they were dreams. They could not possibly be real.

A howler monkey voiced his displeasure with something or other, startling Finn. She sat up even as exhaustion pulled her back down. It was so difficult to keep her eyes open. Dry and burning, hey tried to close no matter her efforts.

Floating lights, like fireflies emerged from the trees. They brushed past the weary, who blinked blearily, and converged on Marguerite's unmoving body. Two of the lights grew until they were the size of small children. Through the light, which surrounded them like auras, they took on the forms of two immortally beautiful women.

Finn was amazed at the strength of her imagination to produce such a scene.

The fairies – for that's what Finn assumed she was dreaming about – whispered to each other as they peered at Marguerite. Their voices were soft and sweet, like children ready to giggle at a joke or screech in delight.

"We can't interfere."

"But she's needed."

"It is against our laws. The King and Queen won't pardon us."

Finn wondered at the conversation, but couldn't think straight enough to properly question what she heard or saw. She knew it was a dream because how could it be real? The women were clothed in light, their golden hair loose and sparkling in the sunshine that followed them from the inside out. Flowers speckled their hair and wound around their bodies like vines around lithe, graceful saplings.

"We must do something."

"She's not yet crossed over. If we keep the predators away, her friends will find her in the morning."

"It will be too late by then."

"Maybe, but we can't do anything more." The woman sighed, her clear eyes somehow taking on a sad tilt her compatriot mirrored.

The women shrank and became part of the group of tiny lights again, which spread out into the foliage. There was the faintest sound of fluttering wings as they departed. When they were gone, the darkness seemed that much deeper, that much quieter.

Finn closed her eyes and promptly dismissed what she'd seen and heard.

XXX

With nothing to shield her from the light Finn woke with the first rays of the sun. There was a blissful moment of confusion. She wondered where she was and why she couldn't move. Memories from the previous day rushed back when her eyes touched Marguerite's still form.

Finn had run out of tears. She was surprised that she had any to give the day before. Had she not cried out her whole heart in infancy with the deaths that followed her family and tribe like piranhas following a wounded capybara? What did she have left to give to a world that stole everything but her hatred and anger? Looking at her friend's peaceful face, Finn felt a familiar hole in her chest grow, because she couldn't stand to feel the ache of another death. She wasn't left to solitary thoughts long.

The dew had not yet evaporated when Finn heard Roxton calling her name from much closer than expected. Though help was near, the rescue party's timing was off. They were too late and it didn't seem they had yet realized Finn wasn't alone.

"Roxton!"

"Finn!" Roxton's relieved greeting mirrored Finn's as he finally came to the tree and began cutting away her bonds. He was alone, but well armed and ready for battle should Finn's kidnapper appear. Of course Captain Esser was gone and gone for good.

Roxton had circled part of the camp already, just enough to ascertain Finn was alone. He'd seen someone had rested objects around the site but removed them.

"Not me, go to Marguerite!" Finn commanded.

"What?" Roxton turned and froze in horror. After a second he practically fell over his own feet to get to the bloodless body. "Marguerite!"

She didn't seem to be breathing and he could feel no pulse, but then he could only hear and feel the thundering of his own heart. Her skin had the pallor of white ash and she was colder than she should be.

Dead. Roxton had seen it too many times before. The sight of her, the feel of her wounded body in his arms brought an onslaught of memories until he felt paralyzed with his shock and grief. His calls to her, pleading for her to open her eyes, went unheeded.

Veronica and Challenger emerged from the forest. They had circled around, scouting for other accomplices and traps.

"Finn!" Veronica smiled brightly until she noticed the direction of her friend's attention. Her cheer vanished as quickly as it had come.

Veronica cut the thick ropes around Finn while Challenger joined Roxton. Silent tears made Roxon's eyes brighter though they didn't leave to touch his cheeks.

"Gone," Roxton murmured. "How can she be gone?"

Challenger was more stalwart. His eyes were dry and movements still held purpose. While Roxton buried his face in the waves of fragrant curls, Challenger placed his fingers on Marguerite's neck for a long while.

"John, give me your medical kit." There was no answer. "John, she's not dead yet, but she will be very soon. We need to act fast."

It was apparent that Roxton was unable to hear so Veronica undid his bag from his back and passed the material to Challenger, who motioned for Finn and Veronica to pry Roxton's arms from Marguerite. He needed proper access to the wound.

Some sense returned to Roxton as soon as his friends moved to get the medical kit out of his bag. He removed the backpack and handed it to Challenger, who pulled out the medical tools. They were rudimentary and limited, but with some improvising it might be enough. Challenger just hoped she could wait until the tree house for a blood transfusion. Three pairs of anxious eyes watched his every move. Challenger tried to ignore them.

XXX

Blood had indeed been needed, but without the equipment, it had to wait. Finn was a willing donor once at the tree house. Roxton and Veronica carried Marguerite in a simple litter, making short time through the forest.

If anyone in the group had been thinking clearly, they would have wondered at the silence around them, the lack of predators. Despite the splattering of blood where she and Finn spent the night and the smell of infection and near death as the group trouped through the jungle, no hungry predators appeared, not even a raptor.

For hours after the surgery and transfusion, someone had their fingers on Marguerite's pulse or checking for a breath every minute. Roxton, though he didn't leave her side, didn't trust himself to perform this task. He wanted her to be well so badly and feared the end of her heartbeats so that he imagined a pulse when there wasn't one and stillness when there was.

As consumed by their concern as they were, the tree house occupants didn't notice the abundance of fireflies fluttering in nearby trees. Once or twice the tiny creatures darted closer to the tree house, shying just short of the bedroom windows.

Not unmoved, but infinitely more stoic about the situation, Challenger alone felt easy leaving the unconscious woman for any length of time. He wasn't uncaring, but he had work to do and knew Marguerite was in good hands. He'd follow up every few hours to ensure her vitals were steady and keep an eye on the infection that had settled in her wound.

"She's getting stronger," Challenger assured the waiting onlookers about the twentieth time he visited the bedside.

"Are you sure?" Roxton didn't want any mistake about it, but his grip on Marguerite's hand belied his hesitant question.

XXX

"John, you know I didn't mean what I said, don't you?"

John stopped and looked at her, his expression going from tense and angry to hopeful in a second. "You didn't?"

Marguerite shook her head. "Not even a little. I'm so sorry I hurt you."

"Would you tell me why you said what you did?"

"Yes. I think you deserve the truth."

Marguerite looked up into his eyes, glorying in their colour, their ease of expression. He smiled, his face becoming the epitome of kindness.

"I love you." Neither one said it, but the words reverberated through the air in their joint voices.

The sight of the jungle around them disappeared like wax melting from the sky to the ground. A rocky coast, one Marguerite recognized from Scotland, appeared instead.

Behind the two lovers a curious scene played out; Marguerite was shot by Captain Esser. The wounded Marguerite, slightly distorted like a mirror image tilted a little at the wrong angle, fell onto the pebbly beach. Her eyes were open and staring. Esser pulled Marguerite's locket from her neck and disappeared like smoke.

"I can tell you everything now," said Marguerite. "Do you forgive me?"

"I'll always forgive you."

"John…" She leaned in for a kiss, but Roxton interrupted her.

"When we get back to London I'll take you to Harrods and anywhere else you want to go. We can go to Paris or Rome if you like. Scotland and Ireland are beautiful, but you already know that. Would you like to see Africa? You're a good shot, but I know you'd rather see the lions free than kill them. I'll take you everywhere and marry you the instant we can, but you have to promise me something."

"What?" she asked, bewildered by his sudden babbling.

"Open your eyes for me."

"Pardon?" She was looking right at him.

"Open your eyes. Please, Marguerite, if you love me you'll wake up."

XXX

There seemed to be no end to waiting. Every time Finn and Veronica had to change Marguerite's bandages, Roxton was shoved out of the room and made to wait in the hallway. He used the time to take care of his own bodily needs. Between breaths there was waiting for the rise and fall of Marguerite's chest. Between each second was the question of whether or not Marguerite would twitch in her sleep. Then there was the waiting for her to regain consciousness altogether.

"Please, open your eyes." He'd lost track of how many times he asked for that. It seemed like a million. She always had been stubborn.

This time she felt ready to oblige him.

"John?" she asked weakly. Her throat felt dry and there was a terrible pain in her side. Confusion fogged her brain, unable to remember what led her to be in bed with her hand held by Roxton.

"Thank you, Lord," Roxton whispered his praise, dropping his forehead to their clasped hands briefly. He wasn't much for prayer, but after spotting her on the forest floor with a ghostly pulse, he had remembered a few of his mother's favourite praises.

"Roxton, water please." He obliged, holding the cup to her lips after helping her sit up. He would have propped her on a pile of pillows like they'd done when she was unconscious, but she was too proud to allow him when awake.

When she'd had her fill Roxton even managed to get some analgesics into her, though she made a face at the taste of the tea they were delivered in. He helped her lie back down and stroked the sweat from her brow with a cool cloth.

"What happened?"

"Don't you remember Captain Esser?"

She thought a moment, soothed and cooled by his ministrations, and the series of events returned to her. "Yes, I remember."

"Challenger, Veronica and I found the man you tied up. There wasn't much left of him. Raptors," he said when she raised a brow in question.

"Oops."

"I can't say I'm too sorry for it."

"No, me neither." She chuckled after a moment.

"Care to let me in on the joke?"

"I must be harder to kill than even I thought."

Roxton smirked. "Well, you are incredibly stubborn. It's only proper that should transfer into your will to survive."

"Captain Esser was hired by contract to kill me. There are a number of people who want me dead, but he has a steep price. I suspect it was a government looking for revenge, possibly Germany or one of the corrupt officials in Britain."

Roxton paused, surprised by her volunteering of information. "Finn mentioned that."

"He has my bloody shirt and a photo of my corpse. He's not an amateur. Whoever his employer was… they run in the highest circles." Her eyes met his. "Soon all my acquaintances will know."

"You think so?"

"I know so." She held his gaze through the pull of her healing body back into unconsciousness. "It means I'm freer now than I ever was so long as I remain here."

"And…" Roxton had to swallow past a sudden lump. "And do you think you'd like to stay here?"

"I…" How could she answer that? Europe was all she'd ever known, its various landscapes so beauteous and unique that even in her worst moments she'd taken comfort in the loveliness of nature and man.

Seeing the hesitation, Roxton nodded, hoping to mask the hurt he felt.

"John, Britain is home for me, but if we don't find our way, then I'll happily spend the rest of my life with you here."

"And if we do find a way home?"

"Well, I've seen most of the world as a spy. Maybe you'd like it if we saw the rest of it together."

Roxton let out a relieved laugh. "I'd like that very much."

"I hoped you would."

He kissed her fingers and smiled when she yawned, amused that she hadn't immediately noticed the ring he'd slipped on her finger. Merging her love of jewels and the need for practicality, Roxton had designed and helped forge a ring that was truly something to be proud of. She would be pleased the next time she woke and saw it.

Lord John Roxton sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. His wait was much easier this time, knowing what was to come.