The Catacombs

[xFTHMx]

Somewhere below Paris...
Looking for one skull among the tens of thousands lining the walls of these tunnels was like looking for original pressing Joy Division at a swap meet, but Johnny was certain he'd remember it the moment he saw it-- ********, was that the path he'd been supposed to take?

Up ahead the path curved to the right and started to slope downward gradually. Convinced he remembered this next bit, he continued on, eyes shimmering in the torchlight. It had been almost a century since he'd ventured this way last, and he hadn't thought he'd ever have to come again but while he could shrug off one rumor, three rumors from separate and equally reliable sources deserved an investigation. If the Scimitar had indeed been removed, he was in for a heap of trouble. Probably.

Johnny did his best to disregard his superstitious nature, but old habits are hard to break, especially when you're in his particular line of study, and Amahd Al'Qais had not been a man to be taken lightly...  

[xFTHMx]

Nearly an hour later, after several wrong turns and backtrackings, Johnny rounded a corner to find the trademark skull with the puncture wound under the left eyesocket grinning up at him amid a scattering of numerous other skulls that had been pulled from the wall to retrieve what he had thought was safely hidden. Who could have known the exact location he'd hidden Al'Qais's scimitar? He hadn't given the details to anyone... Perhaps a better question was who could have divined the exact location? Johnny knew of only a couple Immortals with those kind of skills, and one was his mentor, the other long dead. Swearing under his breath, Johnny began examining the surrounding dirt for any clue as to the identity of the thief... He would hate to have to call Geoffrey for help. He wasn't the kind of man Johnny enjoyed owing favors to. Repaying them invariably involved bad smells, dimly lit enclosures, and a smattering of violence.  

[xFTHMx]

Heedless of the mud and grime fouling his clothes, Johnny rummaged through the grisly debris until his fingers closed on something small, metallic... Holding it up into wavering light, a jade scarab glistened wetly and a chill ran down his spine. That was Al'Qais' emblem alright.

When Johnny had taken his quickening all those years before, he thought he'd been certain the mad Arab had no apprentices, no pupils... IT seemed painfully obvious now that he had been mistaken. Wasting no time, Johnny turned and ran as fast as he dared back to the surface...  

[xFTHMx]

On the streets again, Johnny ignored the pre-dawn chill. He drove like a madman, only half paying attention to other traffic or traffic signals. How could he have missed this? The mere thought of the Scimitar being in the hands of the wrong person sent chills down his spine. Al'Qais had been an aberration, a sadistic madman whose lust for power knew no bounds, and if he HAD found a way to invest a part of his soul into the blade, it would only be a matter of time before a dominating personality like his took over the wielder. If the weilder happened to be a pupil of his as well, there was no telling the kind of evil that might be unleashed, would a willing victim create a hivemind? would there be less need to completely subjugate the original personality? These questions and more made his head spin as he pulled into his garage. He had some calls to make. It would seem it was time to leave Paris again. Syria was Al'Qais' home, and if there had been a pupil, Damascus was where he'd have to start looking...