The Furies

Chapter Ten Quicksilver

Ember had been avoiding him. Oh, it was subtle enough, nothing anyone else would notice — if anything, any other man would read it as confirmation of Quicksilver’s recovery, that Ember no longer hovered over him like a crèche master. Instead, he worked a different shift, busying himself in the biolabs rather than in the engine compartments, where the ZPM was now wound into its new socket. The tests were proceeding well, the power interface was solid… And Ember avoided him.

Rodney made his way through the corridors that laced the clevermen’s quarters, avoiding the main thoroughfare. It had been painful to walk there when he believed he was Quicksilver, and had no idea why the blades looked sideways at him; now it was too dangerous, in case his thoughts slipped, and betrayed what he had found. But he had to talk to Ember, and this was the only time he could approach the cleverman unaware.

A single drone watched the entrance to the holding pens. He stood aside at Rodney’s approach, mind blank, and Rodney stepped inside, the door sliding closed behind him. To either side, the cells stretched toward the hive’s bow, only a third full now, but… He had not been there since he had regained his memory, somehow hadn’t expected to feel anything different, but now — now he recognized the faces that hung in the webs as human, as kin, not kine. He could feel their fear, see here and there open eyes, waiting to see who would be chosen this time. There was a girl of maybe seventeen, fair hair lank about her face, her eyes sliding closed as though in prayer. Two cells beyond her, a dark young man, the web twitching as he tried, hopelessly, to free himself. An older woman, a grey-bearded man, a girl whose eyes were vivid blue: people, all of them, and he shuddered, unable to look at them any longer. He had fed on them — oh, he hadn’t done it directly, that was a minor mercy, but they were just as dead, the ones Ember had chosen for him. He was as much a murderer as any Wraith — worse, a cannibal, consuming his own kind…

With an effort, he killed that train of thought, wrenched his mind back to the problem at hand. Ember should be here — yes, there he was, just turning away from a cell. A body dangled, withered, and Rodney shuddered again.

*Quicksilver?*

Rodney closed the distance between them in a rush, slamming the Wraith against the nearest support. His feeding hand came up, almost without volition, flattened against Ember’s chest, claws digging through the layers of his coat to touch flesh. Ember hissed and flailed, got his own feeding hand between them, but Rodney had the advantage of leverage, caught his off hand and bent it up and back, pinning him against the hull.

*What—?*

They touched skin to skin, off hand to off hand, and Rodney felt the confusion beneath the words, the bright blossom of fear, the moment when Ember realized what had happened. He flexed his own fingers, setting the claws deeper, and Ember hissed again.

*Stalemate, Quicksilver. Look down.*

*Not likely,* Rodney said, but he could feel the prick of claws in his own chest, see their position reflected in Ember’s mind. They stood body to body, each ready to feed — like enemies, like blades in battle, like lovers.

*You cannot kill me,* he said.

*Watch me,* Rodney answered. Ember had lied to him as much as Dust, deserved anything he did to him—

*If you kill me,* Ember said, *the Old One will fillet your mind, strip out every secret you have ever held, and feed on you laughing.*

The image that came with the words was sharp and shockingly vivid, but Rodney didn’t relax his grip. *So?*

*You know more of Atlantis’s secrets,* Ember said. *And I have not pressed you for them.*

*You did this to me.* Rodney let his fury fill the words, the anguish of seeing himself made monster, and felt Ember tremble under his hand.

*I did not, and well you know it. Dust had the idea, some time ago, when Lastlight that you call Michael was made mad. You were his chance to test it, cleverman of Atlantis. I merely maintained what he had done.*

*And that makes it better?* Rodney felt his feeding hand pulse with his anger, ready to strip the life from Ember. There was a warning pulse in his chest, Ember matching him, and he laughed soundlessly. *Really, give me one good reason.*

*Because you won’t survive if you do,* Ember answered.

Rodney snarled, recognizing the truth in the words. *And I should trust you?*

*We are in this game together,* Ember said. *Whether I like it or not.*

Rodney blinked, another set of pieces slotting into place. Guide — yes, he knew Guide, had indeed worked with him on Atlantis, though that hadn’t quite worked out the way they’d planned. As nothing had, when they dealt with Guide.

“Todd,” he said aloud, and Ember cocked his head in question. *Guide. He’s playing another of his games — is it a triple cross, or is he working up to a quadruple cross this time?*

To his surprise, a kind of wry amusement flicked through Ember’s mind. *I wish I knew.*

*And Sheppard,* Rodney said. He was sure Sheppard had escaped, otherwise the hive would have been buzzing with the news, but he needed to be sure. *You hid the message — and, believe me, if anything goes wrong, I’ll make sure everyone knows about that — did he escape?*

*You know as much as I,* Ember said. *He is not Death’s captive, that is certain.*

And that would have to be enough, for now. Rodney said, *What does Guide want from me?*

*He doesn’t want your death,* Ember said. *And, believe me, I have urged otherwise! Nor does he love Death. But our queen is missing — as you know.*

*And he keeps in contact with Atlantis,* Rodney said, slowly. There was something about Todd’s queen, something wrong there, but the memory slipped from his grasp.

*Just so,* Ember said. He paused. *I do not know what Guide plans, nor will he tell me.*

Rodney caught a brief image, memory or fear, he couldn’t tell: Ember on his knees before Death, life ripped from him. *But he wishes you alive, and I obey.*

*And if you don’t —* Rodney took a breath, released his claws. A moment later, Ember did the same.

*I will keep you so,* he said. *For all our sakes.*