MY HEART IN STONE

PART 24:

She showered and changed while Cort slept, feeling much more human even as she shed the tattered remains of her work uniform – a ghastly outfit even when it was whole – and scrubbed and soaped until she felt she had a new skin.  She slipped on a long voile skirt and silk top, feeling acutely the need for something as feminine and beautiful as possible.  Cort, too, had changed into the soft sweats and t-shirt and now lay as though reclining in a cloud of pillows and sheets, lightly snoring.  Rachel sat and watched him sleep for several fond moments, kissed him on the brow and then pulled her cell phone out of her purse.  There was some catching up to do with others.

She left the trap-door of the room open so she could sit on the steps below, not wanting her conversation to wake Cort, but positioned close enough to hear if he called out.  She flipped the phone open and began dialing, stopped…

Where was she going to begin?  She could well imagine how distressed her father already was…had it really been two days since she last called him?  When she had returned from her walk with Gerta, she had placed one phone call to her father, asking him to contact Terry and the others to let them know she was all right and promised to call with a more lengthy update the next day.  And the next day…

Where to begin?  Rachel sat and thought for a few moments, enjoying the cool breeze that blew through a single window.  The sun was beginning its ever-faithful trek towards the western horizon now.  A pigeon appeared with a rustle of wings, fluttering upon the window sill and bobbing its head in curiosity.  Just me, Rachel indicated with a small wave.  What should she talk about first?  Rachel was beginning to realize she didn’t want to repeat the last few days over and over again. 

Best to keep it simple.  Good news first.

Dialing once more, she leaned against the wall to wait for the other end to pick up.

“Dad?  Dad, it’s me.”

A great shout at the other end.

“Rachel!  At last!  Angel, tell me you’re all right.  Tell me everything is okay!”

“I’m okay.  Honestly!  I’m perfectly all right,” Rachel obliged.  “I’m safe, Cort is safe, we all....just…fine…” she trailed off, remembering what happened to Gerta.  In due time, she would speak of it.

“Rachel, why haven’t you called?  Honey, you can’t keep doing this to your poor dad, running around in a panic and then not talking to me for several days.  It wears out the heart,” her father protested.  “You turned my one last black hair gray.”

“Aw, gee, Dad, thanks for the guilt trip,” Rachel laughed.  “I didn’t call yesterday because…”  Oh brother, this was not how she wanted to get into it.  “Well, a lot went on, and I’d really rather not discuss it all right now, at least not the parts that…” she sighed.  “How are you, Dad?Everything okay there?”

“You’ll have to forgive me for a few minutes.  Am just glad to hear from you,” Glen replied.  Rachel knew he’d never admit it, but she heard the tremor in his voice and knew he was trying to bring his emotions under control.  “Just tell me you’ll be coming home soon.”

Rachel buried her head in her arms. 

“Well, the word ‘soon’ is a relative term, isn’t it?”  She asked.

“Where are you?”

“Still in Hromada, Dad.  Well, not exactly ‘in’ Hromada.  The castle is just outside of town.  Yes, castle.  Neviditelny…yes, the one Terry talked about.”

“So are you done?  You said your young man was safe.  You can come home now.”

“Yes, Cort is just fine…well, he’s recovering now.  There were some…injuries.”  Rachel winced over her choice of words, but if she didn’t constrain the explanation, it would all come out and frustrate her father even more.  And there was something else she needed to talk to him about.

“Injuries?  What happened?”

“It’s a rather long story, Dad….”

“Angel, I’ve been patient enough.”

“You have, Dad!  You have!  But there’s a lot of it that if I just blurt it out, it won't make sense.  Besides, there’s something else Id really rather talk about first.  It will make all the rest of it not so…scary.”

She heard her father huff at the other end.

“Did I ever tell you that you have your mother’s knack for dragging a story out?”

“What’s your point?”

“Go on, Angel.”

Rachel took a deep breath.

“Dad…Cort’s asked me to marry him.  And I said yes.”

There was a long, long silence at the other end.

“Dad?”

“Angel, can you repeat that?  I think there was another voice that cut in and said they had been asked to get married.  Do cell phones work in central Europe?  Maybe I need to recharge mine…?”

“Yes, Dad, that was me.”  Rachel’s heart was in her throat, feeling even more how unfair things had been for her father in the last several weeks.  She had been expecting argument, expecting anger, expecting anything except…silence. 

“You said yes.”

“Yes.”

Another long pause.

“Well, honey, I hardly know what to say…”

“Say that you hope I’ll be happy.  Say that you’ll walk me down the isle.”

“Are you sure, angel?  You just met him, didn’t you?  I haven’t met him.  And this Terry fellow…does he know how you feel about this Cort guy?

“You might say it’s his fault,” she replied, smiling broadly at the memories.

“May I talk to him?”

“Not right now.  He’s asleep.”

“What happened to him?”

“In short?  He saved my life.  My life was threatened and he nearly killed himself to keep me from dying.” 

Another long pause.

“Was this before or after he asked you to marry him?”

“After, Dad.  After.  Does it really matter?”

“What did he do?  What did you do, for that matter?  Rachel, I really wish you would explain what happened to keep you from calling.”

“Remember when I told you that Cort had been abducted?  The man who kidnapped him…oh, Dad, I so did not want to explain things this way.  The kidnapper had us trapped and tried to kill us, and Cort…prevented that from happening.  In the process, he suffered leg and back injuries.  There is a doctor on hand who’s been taking care of him, but for the most part, since last night, I’ve been watching over him.  Dad, he’d do anything for me.  He loves me and wants to grow old with me and…and there’ll never be another like him,” Rachel gushed, unable to hold back any longer.  “I love him, Dad.  He’s the one.”

“Well, hell,” her father finally said, sounding mollified.  “I guess if he felt like he needed to prove how serious he was…only, tell him, next time buy some flowers, okay?  Makes the rest of us look like chumps.  I mean, all I did for your mom was take her to nice dinner and…”

“Okay, okay, Dad, I get the picture,” Rachel laughed.  Tears were at the edges of her eyes again.

“So, back to my original question: when you coming home?”

“We thought maybe we could fly you over here and…”

“Come again?”

Rachel groaned.  Was he being deliberately obtuse?  She was glad she had restrained from the harder information about her time in Hromada.

“We’d like to get married here, Dad.  In Hromada.  Its such a beautiful little place and I thought maybe Terry could fly you over…”

“Don’t you have things here you have to take care of before all that?”

“Probably, but…”

“Why don’t you think about it, angel?  You know your sister will be disappointed to not….”

“Cort and I have talked about it,” Rachel interrupted, bristling somewhat at the thought of her older sister being the deciding factor of her plans.  “I’m sure if I asked Terry, he could arrange a whole plane of guests to come over…but this is where we want to make our vows.  When you get here, you’ll see why I’ve…why we’ve…”

“All right, all right,” Glen acquiesced.  “Don’t get upset with me.  I’ve got a lot to think about now.”

“I know.  Thank you.  You’ll go tell Stacia and all now, won’t you?”

“Tell them what?”

“That I’m getting married!”  Rachel growled.

“Yes, I’ll tell them.  Do you want me to call Terry and give him an update?”

“No, I’ll call.  There’s information I need to pass on to him that can’t go through regular channels.  Dad….Dad, I promised I would explain it all and make it clear.  Just hang in there for me just a bit longer.  Come to Hromada and we’ll take as much time as we need.  Please?”

“Okay, angel.  You know, your old dad is proud of you…even though he can’t figure you out sometimes,” Glen said.

The tears that had perched on the brim of her eyelids now fell in relief and happiness.

“I know it.  I think you’ll be proud of Cort, too, when you meet him.”

“I look forward to it.  Let me know when to expect the tickets, hon.  Bye!”

“Terry…you there?”

Rachel and Cort glanced at each other as they waited for the person on the other end of the line to respond to their account of events since the day Deidre left a message on her voice mail.  It was evening now and Rachel waited until Cort woke from his long sleep to include him in the contact with Terry, something Rachel knew Cort was anxious to do, if only to reassure himself that events leading up to his abduction were as he remembered them.

“Rache, luv, you’re going to need to give me a few moments.  Deidre just turned white as a sheet and may faint,” came Terry’s voice, which held a few tremulous notes of its own. 

“I am not going to faint!”  Deidre protested.  “Holy shit!  Rachel, I’m sorry, but your joke about Mikol is not going over very well.”

“It’s not a joke, Dee,” Rachel sighed.  “He didn’t just look like Roy Batty…he WAS Roy Batty.”  She clutched Cort’s hand at the memory, sitting as she did at the bedside where he sat propped up, both their attention focused on the cell phone sitting on the bedside table, the top casing flipped open to act as a speaker phone.  Their phone call had been received with exclamations of happiness and relief, with a few reprimands in between, most of which were forgotten once they told their story.  It had been with some anxiety that Rachel detailed exactly who it was that had wanted Cort for his own collection and why.  The response was as she suspected.

“Not Rutger Hauer in an elaborate hoax…?” Deidre began.  Rachel emphatically repeated her denial.

“Did you know who Mikol really was, Terry?”  Deidre asked.  Rachel grimaced because the exact same question was on her mind.

“No,” the man replied and Rachel could hear the anger and anxiety in his tone.  “Not anything about his true identity.  Just that he had the same technology that we do.  I just assumed that it was obtained by…other means.  Now that you’ve said who he is, it puts things in a totally new light.”  Terry sounded strained.  “Sorry, luv.  I should have found out something long ago.  As recent events have illustrated, my negotiation skills are useless with Sid.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself,” Rachel urged.  “You know Sid only told us those things he wanted us to believe.  I just feel stupid for not having figured it out when I first saw him.”

“Well, I’d have to say you had other things on your mind, didn’t you?”  Deidre countered and Cort and Rachel grinned at each other.  “I’m just glad everything turned out all right.  Cort, I’m glad you’re safe!”

"Thanks, Diedre," Cort called out, a bit more loudly than necessary as he wasn't used to the concept of conference calls, much less speaker phones.  "I miss you two."  He paused, something very important to him occupying his mind.  "Terry?" he said, his voice serious. "What about Maximus?  Rachel says Sid has taken him into some secret area there in Emerald City.  I'm...worried...about him, Terry.  The possibilities of what Sid might be doing, I...can't you locate them?  Isn't there some way?"

Another silence.

“Now Terry’s trying not to faint from holding back all the foul language he wants to spew,” Deidre informed them with a sigh.  “You aren’t the only one, Cort, who’s worried about him…and Brianna.  There’s been no progress on that front, as much as we have tried.  Sid still has them both well hidden, and delights in sending us on goose-chases.  Bud and John have been plotting to take apart the building, wall by wall, but for now, Sid only comes out when he wants something and tortures Terry and me in the process.”

"Has he said anything...anything at all...about what he's doing with Maximus, what he wants from him?" Cort broke in. The thought that Sid had the General locked away was far too similar to what he had just experienced himself. "I wish I could help...." his voice trailed off.

“We know you’re doing everything you can,” Rachel said, sobered by her own frustration.  She grabbed for Cort’s hand, squeezed it to sympathize with him.  He had been particularly upset when she detailed the hour after their return to Emerald City from Gladiator. That no progress had been made was even more distressing to them both.   “We had just hoped that…well, when we get home, we’ll do our best to help,” she added, more for Cort’s ears than her friends.  She paused, looking askance at Cort.  “I know you have your hands full, but…well, Cort and I want to ask for your presence here.  We're having our wedding here in Hromada.” 

Terry’s calm “Don’t you need to come back here to do that?” was barely heard under the whoop of excitement from Deidre.

“Something happy to share for a change," Cort interjected. "Something wonderful." He squeezed Rachel's leg.  "Mrs. Wells," he whispered for her alone to hear. "I like the sound of that."

Terry had to repeat his question.

“We were hoping you could arrange for Cort’s papers and all.  I’ve been talking to the people at the consulate,” Rachel replied, delayed in her response because of an impassioned hug when Cort whispered her prospective name.  “Do you think it possible, Terry?  There’s so much that’s special to us here already and it…well, it would mean a lot if we could make it happen.”

“I suppose something could be arranged,” Terry said.  “Yes, we’ll come.  No worries, now.  I’ll get all the papers in order and fax them to whatever number you give me.  I’ll see about arranging for a plane, as well.  Just tell us who to collect before we come over.”

“And don’t forget to call Bud,” Deidre added.  “He’s been feeling a might neglected on the information front.”

“Will do.  Terry?”  Rachel broke in before the disconnect was made.

“Yes, luv?”

“Don’t say anything to Sid, at least not anything more than you have to.  Maybe we can use that as a bargaining chip…for something.”

“I doubt it will make much of a difference, but I’ll have no problem in conveniently forgetting pertinent details.  You two rest easy.”

“And Dee?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Thanks for the use of the brooch.  It meant more than we can say.”

Cort stayed in bed most of the next three days, his mood swinging between utter bliss when Rachel lay beside him and increasing grumpiness that he could not be out and about, now that no one barred his freedom.  Henri came and went several times a day, bringing meals, news, and checking on his progress.

Rachel had gone on an errand and Henri was rubbing heating ointment into the muscles of Cort's back when he mentioned that if Cort used a crutch, he could probably start circumnavigating the tower room now.

Cort's eyes scanned the circular chamber. "You mean," he said, "that I can start there," he pointed in the area of the window, "and then I can end up back...there," and he pointed to the window again.

Henri grinned, patting Cort's shoulder.  "If you don't think it will be too much excitement for you, my young friend."

Cort shook his head.  "It's just so damn hard, Henri, you know.  Now that Mikol's not around, I'm still trapped up here in this room."

"I know," Henri replied fondly, coming around to sit in a chair near the bed. "Soon, soon."

"HOW soon?"

"Let's see how you do today first, all right?"

He'd left a crutch leaning on the wall near the entrance, got up now and brought it over to Cort, explaining how to use it.  "If you'd rather," he added, "I can fetch another."  But Cort wanted to try just the one and was soon hobbling in wobbly circles about the room.  Not at all to Henri's surprise, the young man pushed himself a bit too hard, a bit too long and finally plopped heavily onto the other chair.

He let the crutch fall to the floor. "How long I got to use that thing, Doc?"

"Not long, maybe a day or two, then you can go back to the cane."

Cort rolled his eyes. "This bein' out of my movie is makin' an old man of me," he groused, then smiled.  "I want to thank you, Henri, really thank you for all you did for me, for Rachel.  Don't think we don't know that if it weren't for you, neither of us would be here."  He reached across the table, resting his palm atop the doctor's thin hand.  He saw again in his mind's eye that startled expression dawn on Mikol's face, that exchange of glances with Henri before beginning his slow topple off the parapet.  "I don't think Mikol saw you on the walkway.  Not until it was too late. You came forward and to the side so quickly, out of nowhere."  Cort's eyes widened, understanding.  "Like a chess move!"

Henri smiled slightly. "He always saw me as his pawn.  Never anything but that.  He...," Henri shrugged.  "Not until that last moment.  Then he realized."

The next day Henri took Rachel to Gerta's funeral, telling Cort it would be too much strain on his leg at this point.  Cort frowned, watching them leave, then got up, grabbed the crutch, and walked around and around the room just to show himself he could.

Arrangements had been made for her father and his new wife, Rachel’s sister and her husband, and Bud, Deidre and Terry to arrive in Hromada the following week.  Rachel thought she’d never get off the phone for all the questions and answers to everyone who finally knew how to get a hold of her.  Despite the harried pace of planning, though, Henri’s somber face when he came to retrieve her for Gerta’s funeral made Rachel forget everything else.  She knew Cort wasn’t happy about her going to the funeral alone, but Henri was firm about not testing the fragile threads of healing.  Rachel promised to go wherever Cort desired once Henri gave permission, but she could not help feel strangely amiss as she descended the steps and left the castle.  They should be paying honor together, given all that Gerta had done for them, Rachel told Henri.  The doctor could only nod in agreement and Rachel did not question his decision further.

So she went with the mind to tell Gerta, at least in spirit, of how her work had not been in vain, that her courage in taking the chance to speak to her had brought about richness and life, that her death was regretted so deeply by someone who had valued her spontaneous friendship.  She stood with Henri at the little graveside, a small tomb in a row of stately graves, all showing evidence of antiquity and elaborate mourning, feeling somehow detached, yet very much enveloped with grief.  It made her heart glad to see that she and Henri would not be alone in their goodbyes to Gerta.  A small crowd of people crowded among the other tombs to watch as the priest from the cathedral said the final rites and quietly interred the small casket in its resting place.

Rachel bade Henri wait for her at the car, choosing to hunch over the grave after most had gone on their way.  She had been gripping a bouquet of flowers the whole time, finding it hard to lay among the others that now rimmed the plain site. 

“I’m so sorry Mikol took you from us,” she told Gerta, trying to picture the bird-like face, but finding a warm blank spot in her memory instead.  Words failed her, though.  Nothing she thought of seemed adequate to the reality of the moment.  “If Cort were here, he’d know what to say,” she added, with a small bleary smile.  But she didn’t know what to say, had not known what to say, so she had been silent through most of the ceremony, letting others, who could, speak.  She crouched by the grave, trying to make her brain shut off the chatter of words that interfered with her feelings, that obnoxiously tried to define the sorrow.  There were no words to make for this.  “I’ll remember you,” she told Gerta.  Then, laying the bundle of lilies on a center spot, she whispered “thank you,” and turned to go back to the castle.

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