Title: Spider's Venom

Characters: KCC, Peter, Matthew, Lo Si, Jordan McGuire, Kermit Griffin, Latrodect, and a few surprises

Warnings: Some Violence, Nightmares, haven't decided.

Story Line: In the course of his search for Laura, Kwai Chang Caine becomes a pawn in Latrodect's plans for revenge against the Caine Line, the Shaolin, and Shambhala itself.

Dedication: This story is dedicated to Marie for her compassion for her friend Zandra.

Copyright (c) 1999 by Alisa Joaquin
All rights Reserved.

Disclaimer: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues is a creation by Michael Sloan and distributed by Warner Brothers. This piece of fiction is based on KF:TLC. No copyright infringement is intended or implied. This work is available to the public for reading. Permission for reproducing this story in another form, i.e., in a fanzine, must be acquired from the author.

(I give permission to archive.)

Author's Notes: Le Toile d'Araignee should have an accent above the first <e>. Aragnee, means spider in French.

Flashback comes from the episode "Dark Side of The Chi." It is reprinted here for the purpose of telling this story only. Credit goes to Michael Sloan and Reuben Leder for writing such a powerful script.

*The dim mak is real. In "Spirit of Shaolin," David Carradine mentions that "dim mak" is: "a perversion of a technique which is intended to be used in healing. It is a measure of the information surrounding the art that the technique is famous only for its killing power, while the healing aspect remains virtually unknown."

The book "Spirit of Shaolin" had been a result from a request made by David's Sifu, Kam Yuen. It was a means to try and understand the true meaning of Kung Fu and to dispell the expoitation that was emerging. The book is a culmination of years of research into an art that very few knew anything about, with the exception of the Chinese community and its most famous son, Bruce Lee.

"NO! Father!" Peter tossed and turned. The dream had come again. It was the same one that he'd had before his father had completed his final trial as a Shambhala Master. Peter bolted upright in low futon; sweat pored from his body, soaking the sheet. If only he could have gone with his father to search. Something about the dream disturbed the young priest. Images that had not been clear before glared out in their clarity now. Mother screaming his name, a spider's shadow on the floor, Jordan trapped and dying in a spider's web that could not be untangled, and his father caught in a nightmare where he had become the instrument of Peter's death. And behind it all, a man whose face remained in shadow. Peter did not know what the dream could mean. Each image could be an aspect about him, or they could mean danger for all that the young priest knew and loved. Still, the image of his mother within the dream was disturbing. She looked like the image in the photo that his father showed him. She had cried out to him, for what? Release? What could he do?

Peter ran his hands through his damp hair. It was apparent he was not going to get any more sleep that night. The young Shaolin rose, put on a pair of loose slacks, and moved through the apartment. As he went from room to room, he lit candles to dispel the gloom, not so much from the room, but from his own troubled soul. He knew somehow his father was entering into danger, but he could not stop what was happening. He could only wait until he was also needed. Peter found himself within the private kwoon where he and his father use to work out and talk. He pulled down a large mat and stood in the center of it. Soon he began the first movements of Chu Chi Chen. Though he was versed in the style of Kung Fu his father had taught him, something told him he needed to know more than just one system, so he began the study of Tien Shan Pai. He found that the system suited him even more than just the Crane. It was eclectic and unique and much of what Peter knew could also be applied. As Peter continued his exercise, images of the dream played out in his mind. If only he could decipher it's meaning. Again, he wished he could be with his father, but he had made a promise to him to take care of this place until he returned. He only hoped his father would return soon and in one piece.

*****

Kwai Chang Caine searched. He was soon rewarded with a sight that he had only dreamed of, but when he approached the woman, he was quickly disappointed. The woman bore a remarkable resemblance to his wife but she held none of her essence. It was as if she had no essence at all. A black veil surrounded the woman and Kwai Chang hesitated before he came forward. When he finally approached, her eyes lifted and met his. Though they were familiar eyes, they held no warmth. Yet there did seem to be something that was quickly hidden from view. They talked briefly. At first, the woman held him in disdain, believing him to be a street beggar, due to his manner of dress, but she appeared to softened when she realized Kwai Chang was only searching for someone he now knew to be truly gone. She offered him a seat and asked if he would care for a cup of tea. Kwai Chang thanked her and watched as she pored some into a white cup. As they talked, Kwai Chang pulled out two photos from his pocket. Peter had given him one of himself that had been taken at Paul's cabin so that he could have something to gaze upon and remember his son. Kwai Chang turned the photo around and saw it was dated. Peter had added a note.

"Don't forget to send a postcard. I already miss you. I hope you find Mom. With Love, Peter."

Kwai Chang replaced Peter's photo in his pocket and then re-examined the photo of the woman who looked like Laura. He showed it to the woman and she smiled causing Kwai Chang's heart to flutter. The woman's smile was so much like his wife's. He could almost believe that she was Laura except for the growing awareness of danger he felt. Before Kwai Chang could act, however, the woman suddenly reached up and struck him across the face. He felt the rake of something sharp across his cheek as the skin tore. Surprise registered on Kwai Chang's face. Had he said something to offend her? He was about to apologize when he quickly realized he was sitting alone at the table. The woman had disappeared as if she had never been.

His search for Laura had been in vain, so Kwai Chang Caine decided that he would seek out his father and try to resolve those feelings that still remained after having met him in the Bardo. Perhaps seeing Matthew Caine, would aid Kwai Chang in solving what was becoming a deepening mystery. To have a woman suddenly vanish before him as if she had never existed unnerved Kwai Chang. He had gone over the conversation they had in his mind and he found there had been no reason for her to slap him as she did. He could still feel the sting from the wound that she'd inflicted on his right cheek. The scratches had not completely closed and still bled whenever he brought his hand to his face. He tried dabbing them with a cloth that he carried with him as a bandage, but it did little good. Maybe his father would have something to heal the scratches.

As Kwai Chang journeyed to his father's home in St. Adele, the emotions of anger, abandonment, betrayal, and shame all played out in his mind and heart. He saw himself in the Bardo, reliving the experience and recalling the things he had said.

***Flashback***

"Father? Why are you here?" A bewildered Kwai Chang stared at the man seated at the table where he had been escorted.

"You are dying, my son. You need me."

"You cannot help me."

"I can help guide you to a path."

"A path?!? Kwai Chang laughed sacrastically. "A path to where?"

"Out of this hell. Out of your Bardo."

"A little late for that, is it not?" Kwai Chang's words were wry.

"No. Perhaps it is for the matters concerning the heart between us. But not for this."

"Well, I am not looking for a path. I know where my path is headed. Straight to darkness. To emptiness. To nothingness. Want to come along?"

"no. I ..."

"Of course, you do not." Kwai Chang overrode his father's words. Suddenly, Caine vented years of anger and resentment.

"Where were you all those years when I needed you? Where? All over the world, hunting for treasures. For things! Mere things!"

"It is true. I was searching for the lost treasures of the world. The Cross of Castenada, the Lost Temple of Anhkara, but I was also searching for something else.

"What? Kwai Chang responded flatly.

"My Soul. When the Sing Wah killed your mother in China, when I was in France during the war, they also killed a piece of me. My chi was empty, depleted. I needed to wander the earth, not so much to find these treasures, but to seek the greatest treasure of all. Inner peace."

"Well, did you hit the jackpot, Matthew Caine?" Kwai Chang asked. The words came through with bitterness and scorn.

Matthew went on to explained that he had found what he had sought and that he had returned to find Kwai Chang, but could not find him. Matthew explained that he had spent 40 years seaching for his son, but . . . .

Suddenly, Kwai Chang lashed out.

"Liar!"

***End Flashback***

The words screamed through his mind, not just once, but four times. He had built himself into a frenzy and had finally struck out at his own father to kill him. When his father disappeared, he had realized the words he had said had hurt not only Matthew, but himself as well. Total anguish had filled Kwai Chang's soul. He tried to call his father back, but with no success. Kwai Chang was lost. If it had not been for the arrival of Peter and the Ancient, with the assistance of Mary Margaret, he would have remained in the Bardo forever, or found a path that might have led to only darkness and oblivion. They had helpd Kwai Chang to see he had a life worth living and that he had people that loved him. Still, he could not forgive himself for what he had said to his father. In some small way, by going on this journey, perhaps the Ancient had given Kwai Chang a second chance to connect with his father before Matthew was gone from this life entirely.

The walk to St. Adele was proving to be a long one. A walk such as this would normally not have bothered Kwai Chang, but this time, an unexplainable feeling of exhaustion was settling over him. He could feel his body becoming feverish. Illness had suddenly taken hold and he found himself having to work just to put one foot in front of the other. He tried to keep going, but began to honestly wonder if he would even make it to the village that night. Fortunately, his walk was shortened when a kindly gentleman drove up, stopped, and asked if Caine needed a lift. He told the man where he was heading, and, as luck would have it, found out that the man actually lived in the village. The man looked concerned as Kwai Chang climbed into his car. He could clearly see the wanderer was ill, despite Kwai Chang's attempts to shrug off the man's questions by saying it was merely exhaustion. When they arrived at the village, the man offered Caine a meal but he declined, telling the man that he was meeting his father. The man asked who his father was and Kwai Chang responded.

"Monseier Caine, I should have realized. You look so much like him. He is just down that road in the small cottage on the left. There is a flag out front with a Chinese symbol."

Kwai Chang bowed, thanking the stranger. Though he was becoming more unsteady on his feet, Kwai Chang continued to push forward toward his father's cottage. There, he knew he would receive aid. Kwai Chang briefly knocked on the door and knowing that it would not be locked, gently pushed it open. No Shaolin ever locked their doors. As he entered his father's cottage, the room began to spin. Matthew had looked up, love shining from his eyes upon seeing who had entered. His epression sudddenly turned to deep concern as Kwai Chang collapsed at his father's feet. Before succumbing to whatever illness had taken hold of him, he whispered, "Father, find Peter."

"My son, what has happened?" Matthew bent down to discover his son unconscious and his skin burning with fever. "Kwai Chang!"

He turned Kwai Chang over and spotted the bleeding scratches on his face. He reached out with his chi and discovered . . .poison! Who would poison his son?

Kwai Chang mumbled in his fevered condition. Hallucinations haunted his mind.

"Peter! Father! No, no. Laura, why did you leave me?" Pain was deeply etched on his face and his tears fell freely. Every twisted image showed each of his loved ones gone. Peter as a boy, again dead on the Temple floor after the destruction, but this time, his body burned beyound recognition; his father leaving him to again hunt for the treasures of the world, never to return; and Laura dying in his arms, her body a twisted mass of pain as the illness consumed her. Then the images changed. Peter, now a Shaolin, trapped within a spider's web, pleading to Caine not to kill him; his father laying dead at his feet from a wound that Caine had inflicted with a weapon no Shaolin would ever touch; and Laura, her essence trapped within the body of the young woman who slapped his face earlier that day, mocking him and yet asking for release. "NNNOO! Father! My son. Laura."

Matthew bathed his son's forehead with cool water. He tried to get Kwai Chang to drink one of his herbal brews, but the younger man continued to toss and turn in his dilerium, his arms flailing out to knock the cup from Matthew's hand. The unknown poison was ravaging both his son's system and his mind. Matthew needed assistance if his son was to live. Who could have done this to him?

Without warning, Kwai Chang's strength returned. He threw his father to the floor and rushed from the cottage, leaving his hat, coat, and other belongings left behind. Snow was falling and the day was quickly fading into night.

"Kwai Chang!" Matthew tried to go after his son, but he did not have nearly the agility or speed of the younger man. Matthew gazed out into the snow. His son was gone.

Peter sat in the open-air cafe drinking his tea. It had been a few weeks since his father had left for France and, during that time, several people had come seeking his father's advice. He had tried his best to help them as his father would have wanted, but some just did not think the young Shaolin as capable as his father. He was an unknown to them. Others, however, saw him as more than just the son of Kwai Chang Caine. They saw him as a unique blend of eastern and western culture. They knew his experience as a cop added to his framework as a Shaolin. Still, the community was not quite sure of his skills. It was going to take time for them to adjust. Even Peter needed time to hone his newfound skills. Learning to be an apothecary would take many years, but with the Ancient's help, Peter would begin to acquire the knowledge needed to help those in need. The Ancient, however, would not always be there. Peter knew that Master Kahn did not have the same skills as his father or Lo SI. Though he would come whenever he was needed, his days were now spent in the service to the new Emperor. Peter was realizing that to really know and acquire the skills of an apothecary, he was going to need his father's assistance. There was still much he needed to learn.

Peter sipped his tea and contemplated what had transpired earlier that morning. Even though he had worked to try to calm his chi, he could not get over the feeling that he was going to be needed very soon. Rather than sit and wait in his apartment, he had decided to come to the cafe where his father and the Ancient would often sit. He thought that maybe it would help him to feel closer to the community and to his father.

"May I bring you another pot of tea, Master Caine?"

Peter almost did not respond to the man's question. To be called Master Caine felt awkward. Usually it was his father that was called Master. Suddenly a man running in his direction caught his attention. The man was breathless and his face was flushed from the chill in the air. The man had a look of frantic confusion. He appeared lost and seemed to be hunting for someone. Something undentifiable gave Peter the impression that he had traveled long way. The man swallowed hard to try and catch his breath. The young Shaolin could see that the man was in deep distress. Peter rose and guided him to a chair then handed the man a cup of tea. The man drank the tea in one gulp and held out the cup for more.

"Merci," he said between breaths. "Do you know where I might find Monsieur Caine?"

Peter was surprised at the man's accent.

"I am Caine. How may I help you?"

The man continued to breathe deeply, but a look of relief and surprise crossed the man's face as he realized that he had finally found the man he sought.

"I have come from your . . . how do you say . . . grand-pere?"

"Grandpa? You mean my grandfather?" Peter was suddenly one the alert with concern and curiosity. What was the stranger trying to tell him? The man finished in French.

<He needs your help. Your father has disappeared. I have plane tickets to take us back. Please, we must hurry.<

Peter listened with rapt attention and surprise. Since taking the brands, it was as if all language barriers had fallen away. He could understand the man as easily as if French were his own native language to him, instead of a language he's studied for two years back in high school. Having learned Chinese as a boy growing up in the Temple, learning other languages had been easier for him than most. At times, it had been a source of ridicule and scorn. As a cop, it had come in handy when cases required it.

"I need to get my passport back at my apartment. You can tell me more as we walk."

The man seemed surprised when Peter did not pay for the tea.

"It's all right. They believe a Shaolin brings honor to the community. They never let me pay. Let's go."

Peter led the man back to his apartment and, surprisingly, found Ping Hai standing in the main hall, one bag was over his shoulder and another was at his feet.

"Lo Si, I see you're ready to go." Peter continued to call the Ancient by the name by which he had established himselfin the community. It was going to take a while to get use to calling him Ping Hai again.

"Your father is in great danger. It may also take a Shambhala Master to help him."

The man, who had come in behind Peter, just stared at the old man.

"I have packed your bag, young Caine. All that is needed are these herbs." The Ancient handed Peter a list. "Your grandfather may not have them. We must take what we can."

Peter grabbed the list and began filling a brown leather pouch much like his father's. As he worked, Peter tried to reach his father through the link they shared. All he could feel was turmoil and pain. Something was preventing him from fully communicating with his father. Fear for his father's safety rose in Peter. Whatever had happened to his father while he had been away weighed heavily. Images of his father from the dream rose up to haunt his thoughts. Could his father's disappearance be connected to the dream somehow? There was only one way they were going to find out and that was to find Kwai Chang Caine.

The trip to St. Adele was made in silence. Though the trip across the Atlantic had been made a little more lively by the constant shakeup from turbulent air currents, an event that would have normally had Peter clinging to his seat for dear life, he had merely closed his eyes, leaned back, and tried to meditate.

*Pop, where are you?*

No answering glow of the other's chi could be sensed. Instead, urmoil and nightmare images assaulted Peter. His father was still in the throes of what appeared to be a drug induced nightmare. Peter only hoped he could help reach him before it was too late.

Lo Si had maintained a steady stream of questions aimed at the man who had asked for Peter's help, hoping to learn the details of Kwai Chang's disappearance. The man could not tell him much, only that Matthew Caine had elicit his help when his son had come to visit him abd then ran into the snow and disappeared. The man could only say that Kwai Chang Caine had been suffering from some kind of unknown illness and that Matthew would explain it all when they arrived.

"How is it that you know Matthew Caine?"

"He saved my father's life in the war. He was only a boy then. I am forever in his debt."

The three travelers deplaned and the young Frenchman led them to his car in the long term parking lot. Again, the trip to the village was made in silence, each man caught up in his own thoughts. The Ancient, however, was more than just concerned for Kwai Chang Caine. He was concerned at how the eldest of the Caine line was going to react to seeing him. The burden that he had carried in his heart for so long still had not been fully lifted. He hoped that Matthew Caine would be just as forgiving as his son and grandson had been when they learned the truth.

When they reached the village, their guide simply let them off by the roadside that led to Matthew Caine's cottage. When Peter asked him if he would not come inside and share a cup of tea, the man declined, saying something about other family matters and being away too long. Both Peter and the Ancient bowed to the man as he drove away. They walked down the lane and soon spotted the cottage with its Chinese flag hanging outside. When they arrived, Matthew was waiting at the door.

"Grandfather." Peter gathered Matthew into a warm embrace. He could feel the disturbance in his grandfather's chi regarding his father.

"I see you are now a full Shaolin. That will aid us in the task ahead."

Peter smiled at how his grandfather could also read his chi.

"And who might this . . . be?" Seeing the stooped ancient Chinese brought back age-old memories of sorrow and pain. Matthew's eyes narrowed. "It was you who told me that my son and grandson were dead. Peter, why is this man here?"

"Please, elder Caine. I ask forgiveness. It was necessary to prevent an enemy from discovering the truth. He had to believe that the line of Caine had ended."

Matthew listened to the Ancient's reasoning, but was not wholly convinced that what Ping Hai had done was right. He did not trust the old one. After being separated from his son and grandson for so long, he was not ready to give up his anger so easily.

"Is this true Peter?"

"Yes. I was told that Pop . . . I meand Dad died. I had no reason to believe otherwise. I only learned four years ago that it wasn't the truth, that Lo Si . . . I mean Ping Hai had fabricated the story of our deaths in order to protect both of us."

As Peter spoke, Ping Hai was brought back to when each learned the truth.

***

It was odd that neither his father or son had seen through the simple disguise the Ancient had worn: a beard, hair that had grown out, and a pair of glasses had apparently been enough to do the trick. Kwai Chang had only succeeded in discovering the truth, because of knowledge that only Ping Hai would have had, after Tan had disappeared. Something that the Ancient had said forced Kwai Chang to re-examine the conversation they had had while he had been recovering from a deep cut from a razor he had received earlier. Kwai Chang, at first had been angry at the deception. The Shaolin tried to understand, but the father raged at the lie that he had been told and the years of loneliness that he had suffered from believing his son had been lost to him.

Their relationship during that eariler time had been strained, until the day when Lo Si had been kidnapped by Tan. The words that Kwai Chang had told Peter earlier, that Ping Hai had only done what was necessary to protect them both, had come back to haunt him. In his own heart, the words that Caine had spoken fell on his own deaf ears. Seeing Lo Si injured by Tan forced Caine to face the truth of his own words, and he realized that the Ancient was Ping Hai, and that he too, had been a threat to Tan's plans. And in that understanding, Kwai Chang forgave him.

Peter, however, at that time would not have easily forgiven the old man. Ping Hai insisted that the Shaolin swear an oath of secrecy until the time was right. Both knew the truth, that the young man would not have been ready to accept the truth during that first part of their reunion. When Peter, too, learned just who he really was, Ping Hai was expecting him to react with anger. Peter had stood there staring at him. It was the same day that Kwai Chang had left.

"I should have realized," Peter said, barely controlling anger that was slowly simmering to the surface. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I could not risk Tan discovering the truth."

Then is dawned on Peter that he and his father were not the only ones in danger from Tan. "In otherwords, he had to believe that we were all dead, not just me or my father. Your life was in danger, too. If Tan thought there was any chance that you might know where either one of us could be found, your life would have been forfeit as well, especially since you also knew about the new emperor's existance. If Tan learned that information, too . . ."

"Yes. I ask forgiveness for the deception." The old Shaolin bowed to the young. Tears fell freely down the old one's cheeks. With his enhanced Shaolin skills, Peter could sense the heavy burden that Ping Hai had carried in his heart for many years. His heart ached for the Ancient Shaolin.

"In truth, I would have reunited you both, but I became ill and was not able to. Soon after your father left and you were taken to the orphanage, I returned to the Temple to recover what had been lost. I saw your grandfather approach. I . . .had no choice but to tell him. If we meet again, I wish that he too will be able to forgive me."

Peter placed a gentle hand on the old man's shoulder. The anger that had been there discipated after seeing the pain in the Ancient's eyes.

"I don't see why not. I realize you did only what was necessary Lo . . . Master Ping Hai." Tears shone out from Peter's eyes. He had grown to love the Ancient like a grandfather.

With Peter's forgiveness, a burden had been partially lifted from the old Shambhala Master's heart. Peter had understood more than he had realized and absolution had come far quicker than it had with Kwai Chang. Perhaps it was because having been a cop, Peter knew that going undercover was a necessary job to achieve a desired objective. Ping Hai had simply done what was necessary to achieve a certain outcome, but would Matthew be as forgivng?

*****

Ping Hai was brought out of his thoughts as Peter spoke.

"Grandfather, what's happened to my father?" Peter did not waste any time in trying to discover the truth.

"I do not know. He came to me very ill. There were three scratches along his face. He had been poisoned and was halluscinating. His body was very feverish. I did not have the opportunity to discover anthing further before he ran out the door. It has been almost a week since he vanished. I fear we may not find him alive."

"Grandpa, reach out with your chi. You'll know if he's alive. I've been trying to reach him but all I get is turmoil and pain. What kind of poison would do this?"

"Do you have anything that may contain a trace of your son's blood, a cloth perhaps?"

"Do you suspect something, Master?"

"I am not sure, young Caine, but if I had something that belonged to Kwai Chang with his blood on it, I might be able to determine what posion we are dealing with."

Matthew watched his grandson and the Ancient apothecary converse. If Peter was willing to trust this man, then he would put his feelings aside for now. What mattered was Kwai Chang's safety. Matthew walked over to the alcove and over to a cot. He returned carrying a brown leather satchel, which he handed to Peter. Kwai Chang's flute case rolled to the floor with a thud.

"That's Pop's." Peter reached in and found a small saffron colored cloth stained with blood. Anxiety filled Peter's being. He had rarely seen his father seriously injured. There was the time when he had believed him to be shot, but Peter learned later that it had been his great-grandfather who had actually sustained the wound, while his father had gone back in time to aid in rescuing his great-grandmother and Matthew. The only two other incidents he could recall were times when his father had been poisoned, once by the dim mak*, and the other when an embittered man had tried to poison his chi out of revenge from his ancestor's disgrace at the hands of Kwai Chang.

"Could my father's chi be poisoned, like the last times?"

"I do not believe so. From the description, this poison seems to attack the mind as well as weaken the body. We must determine exactly what is the source."

Matthew was brought up short by Peter's statement. He had missed a great deal of Kwai Chang's life. The thought that his son had faced many dangers and had successfully navigated through them, filled Matthew with a sense of pride, accompanied by feelings of guilt, anxiety at missed oportunities. He was also remined of his son in the Bardo. During that time, his son had refused his help and had resigned himself to death. It had hurt Matthew a great deal to see his son in so much pain. The anger that Kwai Chang had expressed had overwhelmed him. Matthew could do nothing to help his son. Knowing that his son had survived and found a path out had eventually helped to ease the pain, but now Kwai Chang's life was again in danger. If there was a chance that they could save him, Matthew would do everything in his power to try and understand the son that he thought lost so many years ago. After all, they cic not have much time left to know one another, perhaps a few years at best. If only he had tried to keep Kwai Chang from leaving, but the strength of his own son had surprised and overpowered him. He hoped that Peter and the Ancient would be up to the task of finding his son. But there was one question that was foremost in his mind, just as much as it was in the mind of his grandson.

Peter handed the cloth to Ping Hai. He hoped the Ancient's skills as a Shambhala Master could obtain the knowledge that they all sought. Who had poisoned Kwai Chang Caine?

Kwai Chang Caine stumbled through the blinding snow. He had to find his son. He believed he was somewhere trapped by the Spider Sect. Images of Peter trapped and dying kept playing havoc with his mind. He could hear his cries in his mind and yet, it did not seem possible. Then the images changed. Accusations of abandonment and betrayal played out from his own Bardo. He saw himself attacking his father, but this time his father did not disappear. Rage filled him and hot tears fell from his eyes. He saw himself killing the one person whom he loved in all the world just as much as his son. Again, the image transformed, this time into the face of his wife lying dead in his arms. Guilt and shame filled him at not succeeding in finding the cure that would have kept her alive.

Kwai Chang continued to stumble forward, not knowing where he was going. The snow turned into a cold rain as he somehow made it down from the higher elevations. His clothes were soaked to the skin but he did not seem to notice it. Soon he found himself following a road that led to who-knew-where. Finally, he came upon the outskirts of a large city as daybreak came. He continued walking forward as if in a daze. Many stared at the man who had no protection from the elements. Someone did try to approach, but Kwai Chang fought them off believing them to be an unseen enemy. Kwai Chang made his way through the streets searching, always propelled forward without really understanding why. Every few minutes he would stop and try to shake off the effects of the poison. Unwanted images still continued to plague his thoughts; images of his own son dead in his arms, his son's blood on his own hands. If only he could discern truth from illusion. If only he could find the woman who had done this to him. Finally, he came upon what he sought. Recognition dawned as he saw the very woman sitting at the same table just two days prior. It was as if she was waiting for him. Kwai Chang approached, this time with guarded rage, but the poison in his system was finally taking its toll. As he came closer, she rose to her feet. Kwai Chang crumpled to the ground near her, letting the blackness take him. The woman stared down at Kwai Chang and smiled.

****

Latrodect stared down at his barely conscious prisoner. He had hoped the poison would have done more damage than it had to Kwai Chang's mind. Something about the priest had changed since their last meeting. Though the poison had left the Shaolin in a weakened state, It was as if the priest was somehow eradicating the poison from his body. Latrodect watched the twisted and distorted features of the priest's face as he struggled to remove what must be terrifying images and trying to see the truth. Latrodect marveled at the priest's inner strength. Sweat poured from the Shaolin as he struggled to a sitting position, but quickly fell back on the bed, betrayed by his own weakened body.

Through half closed eyes Kwai Chang could just barely make out his tormentor. He tried to raise himself up to a sitting postion but slipped back on the bed, breathless. In the hazyness of his mind, he thought he recognized the man standing over him, but he could not be sure if what he saw was real. The features were distorted and unclear.

"Who are you?" Kwai Chang demanded, his voice weak from the struggle though rage filled his being. "What have you done to me? Where is my son? If you have harmed him . . "

Again, Kwai Chang tried to rise only to fall back again. Rather than try a third time, he turned his mind inward and focused his chi to begin the healing process to further eliminate the poison that had invaded his body.

Latrodect was awed at how the priest reacted to the venom coursing through his system. With each passing minute the priest was becoming stronger. 'This would not do,' he thought. If the priest were to be any use to him, he was going to have to continue to feed him the amber poison that, for himself, was life's blood. The small amount that had been administered through the cuts on the Shaolin's cheek, though it had weakened the priest, had not been enough to send him into the darkness. For others, it had proved to be a death sentence. For the priest it was going to take a lot more. Still, Latrodect could not help wonder what was so special about this particular Shaolin. Though Latrodect's curiosity was not going to be satisfied, at least he would have the pleasure of seeing this Shaolin broken to suit his needs. He knew, by controlling Kwai Chang Caine, all others would fall.

"Give him more."

"Are you sure it is wise? It could kill him." Another man had entered carrying a small bottle and a syringe.

"Do as you are told. The priest must be made to believe that his son amd father are destroyed. The venom must work on those fears. If they come after him, and they will, he must be under my control then. We will use him to destroy them." Latrodect smiled to himself. 'I cannot wait to see the look on Kwai Chang Caine's face when he realizes that the blood on his hands would have come from his own son.'

The man bent down and raised Kwai Chang's right sleeve. One of the brands was exposed and Latrodect stared down at the hated mark. He watched as the man wrapped a piece of rubber tubing around the priest's upper arm and a vein popped up. Then the man pushed the needle into the exposed vein and emptied the syringe into Kwai Chang's system.

"Leave him and lock the door. There is someone I need to talk to. We may need her help if we are to succeed. Just a little insurance in case the priest should fail. Here's the number. I will be with you shortly." Latrodect turned back to the door and looked through the small window. "It won't be long priest. Soon I will have my revenge. Your order will be gone and the line of Caine will no longer be a threat. Sweet dreams priest."

Kwai Chang Caine continued to wake into hell. Several days had passed since he had collapsed at the feet of the woman who scratched him. He had hoped that whatever nightmare he had entered had finally ended but it had only just begun. For days, more of the vivid, heart wrenching images assaulted his mind. Every enemy that he had ever fought rose to meet him. It was as if he had been plunged back into his Bardo world. Only this time, his enemies remained alive and relentlessly pusued him with whatever weapon they, themself had been defeated by.

"AAAUUUGGGH!" Caine cried out as Tan leered at him, the butterfly knife still sticking in his back. The man who had loved both his horses and his heroine trade taunted him, his face still covered in the white powder that had been his downfall. Others continued to parade through his mind, Li Sung, the Shadow Assassins, George, and back to Tan. These were followed by images of all those he had been unable to help, Laura at the forefront.

"Laura, please forgive me." Kwai Chang pleaded.

Accusations of betrayal and and neglect were shouted at him, each emphasing his failure to keep them from death. Then the images shifted again, and he found himself confronted by an apparition of his own son.

"Peter!" Kwai Chang reached for him but the image floated out of reach.

Kwai Chang watched as every wound that Peter had ever suffered appeared and graced his body. Gunshot wounds to the face, shoulder, and side, every part of his body that had ever been wounded during his life as a cop. Even wounds that Peter had sustained during those 15 years they had been apart were apparent. As he looked on in horror, stab wounds, both old and recent, began to appear as well. Finally, the skull fracture that Peter had suffered when he had fallen through the stairwell returned. Blood poured from his son in a sea of crimson red until Kwai Chang could no longer bear to see his son suffer so. He shut his eyes against the image but the redness remained.

"No!"

Kwai Chang screamed out in a futile attempt to purge the pain that filled his mind. He tried to use his skills as a healer and Shambhala Master to embrace the pain and make it a part of himself, to wipe away the images that were assaultinghis senses, but they were too strong. He knew that what he was seeing was not the truth, but he could no maintain the stamina needed to fight off the poison. Someone was trying to shatter the wholeness that he had finally achieved just a few short weeks ago. This was not real. He knew that, intellectually, but each time he thought he had succeeded in gaining the upper hand, the images would come back stronger than before. These last images of Peter had been more than he could endure.

Kwai Chang Caine struggled to his feet. He had to find help. Only another Shambhala Master could aid him in returning that which was being taken from him. Caine stumbled to the door only to find it locked. He tried to focus his chi to open it, but the nerve endings of his mind felt raw, as if they were on fire. The poison he had been given over the past several days had not only damaged his sense of reality, but to his actual body as well. Kwai Chang slipped down the wall until he was seated on the floor. The only thing he could do was retreat within himself. Death was preferable to this living nightmare in which he had found himself locked, but death did not seem willing to comply. The Shaolin way, no matter how much a priest suffered, did not include suicide. Death at the hands of another through combat could only offer the release that he now craved. Tears fell freely down Kwai Chang's cheeks as he slipped more deeply into a catatonic state that held no release.

"Forgive me, my son. I cannot return to you. I go to join your mother," were the very last words that Kwai Chang would utter for a very long time.

*****

"Father! NO!" Peter screamed in his sleep and bolted upright in the small cot that had become his bed. Matthew rushed to his grandson's side, concern etched deeply within old eyes. He had felt the disturbance in his grandson's chi as well as the pain of his son's sudden departure from reality.

"No! No!" Peter continued to sob out his pain at what had been done to his father. Through the dream, he had felt the nightmares and his father shrinking back from the horror of it all. He had heard his father's last words before allowing himself to succumb to the blackness within his mind. Someone had finally found a way to break a Shambhala Master's soul. Rage filled Peter and he vowed again to take revenge on those that would harm his father. In response, Peter found himself curling into a ball, his knees being drawn up to his chest as tight as they would go. Hot tears fell down his cheeks as he continued to vent his sorrow and rage. Then strong arms were encircling him, coaxing him, letting him know that he was not alone in his anger and fear.

"Grandfather, help him, help me. I cannot reach him. They have taken him from me."

"Ssshhh. It will be all right Peter. We will help him. Were you able to find out where he might be?"

"He is trapped, in darkness. As if he is wrapped within a fibrous cocoon . . .I . . .do not know . . . where."

Peter fell into his grandfather's arms, the frustration and shame breaking through like a tidal wave. Crying out with his chi, Peter tried to reach his father one more time.

*Father, please. Do not leave me.*

*****

Kwai Chang Caine fell limp to the floor as the darkness swallowed him. He no longer knew who he was. A voice filled with deep pain cried out in his mind, one he thought he should recognize, but no identification could be made.

Latrodect entered the room with the woman who had slapped Kwai Chang's face

"Phase one has been completed. Phase two should be coming soon. Once Phase two has been completed, we shall see the end of Kwai Chang Caine and his miserable brat son, Peter. Then we can set our plans on the rest of the Shaolin order and even Shambhala. Once they have learned that the Caine line has fallen, it will be easy to destroy the rest. Isn't that right my dear?"

The woman stared down at the stricken priest. Her smile gave little away, but her eyes said it all. You cannot let him win. You must free yourself, somehow. You must free me. Free me from his world. Free us, if you can.

"101st Precinct, Detective McGuire speaking."

A muffled voice could be heard on the other end, though the words were not so clear.

"I'm sorry but Detective Caine has left the force." McGuire looked around the room to see if anyone was in earshot. "Look, I can't help it if he decided to follow in his Daddy's footsteps ... I know I was supposed to but I had to first make sure he didn't suspect me ... Yes, but he caught it before it could get to him. He never got bit ... In love with him? I had a mission to perform, I had to make it look like I at least was interested."

Jordan could not help smiling to herself. She wasn't about to tell him just how much of an interest she had taken. Keeping Peter Caine off balance and in the dark had not been easy. The hardest part had been trying to retain her objectivity. She didn't want to admit just how close she had come to falling for him. She did not want to admit to herself just how hard it had been to leave the newly-made young Shaolin. It had had to be done though. If she had stayed, she might have said something that would have linked her to that particular case. Still, there had to be some way she could get out of the situation she'd suddenly found herself thrown back into. She had thought, by completing that one job, that she could get out from under Latrodect's thumb and escape the legacy that had been revealed to her. To think she was actually the daughter of that woman scared her. There had to be some way to be rid of that kind of heritage, to wipe the slate clean and to find a better life for herself. The thought of also being related to him appalled her, but there was nothing she could do. She was trapped just as surely as a fly was trapped within the spider's web.

"All right. I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll make some excuse to Strenlich and see what I can do." McGuire hung up the phone. removing the bottle from the drawer, brought it to her lips. She suddenly remembered what she was doing and quickly hid it again. She had to find some way to stop this but her cravings for the amber liquid had become too strong. After putting the bottle away, she briefly looked around and spotted the chief of detectives breaking in a new recruit.

"Welcome to the force Detective Clayton. You'll be partnered with Chin. Here's your first assignment. Any questions?"

"Where do I put my things?"

"Back there, the empty desk near the captain's office."

As the other officers watched the new recruit carry his box of personal effects to his desk, more than a few cringed and bowed their heads. That particular desk had remained empty for nearly three weeks. Now it was being filled by a new person who, though no fault of his own, just seemed out of place. The new detective was aware of the eyes at his back.

"Something wrong?"

"Don't mind them. It's just that they didn't expect a new person to be taking over that particular desk yet. Name's Thomas Jefferson Kincade, but don't call me T.J."

"What's so special about this desk?"

"It belonged to one of the best homicide detectives this department had ever seen."

"What happened to him? Did he die?" asked the new recruit.

"No, you'll hear about him soon enough. Let's just say he's changed careers. Any unusual cases this department can't quite handle they go to him."

"What is he, some kind of special forces guy?"

"You might say that. He's a priest," TJ said with pride.

"Priest?!? Since when does a catholic priest work with the police?" asked Clayton, puzzled.

"He's not catholic. He's Shaolin."

"What's a Shaolin? Who is this guy?"

T.J. laughed at the man's ignorance. "He's called Caine.

"Does he ever come in to the precinct?"

"Sometimes. He doesn't have a phone but he's really not that hard to find."

"How do you get ahold of him if there's a case?"

"Go to Chinatown, ask for Caine, he will help you," T.J. answered with a smile.

McGuire listened to their conversation with rapt attentio, then smiled and shook her head. If only they knew. They were going to have to learn to get along without him and without me, she thought. After this job, she wasn't about to come back here. There would be too many questions.

"Chief?" Jordan called.

"What is it McGuire?" Strenlich said with a deep weary sigh.

"I'm going to need to take some time off."

"Detective, I need you here. We just got Peter's replacement. He's going to need some time to get to know the ropes. Besides, you're suppose to be working on that Carradine case."

"O'Shay can handle that. This is important." Jordan tried to do her best plead.

"What's so important that it can't wait?"

"I had a death in the family." Jordan appeared stricken.

"Oh, well take all the time you need. Give my best wishes detective."

"Thanks chief, you're a peach."

"Don't spread it around, I've got a reputation to maintain."

Kermit stared out from the doorway of his office, his face betraying little emotion behind his green shields. He had not meant to eavesdrop, but something in the conversation between the Chief and McGuire did not set well with him. He had only come into the office to grab a few things when he had overheard Peter's name being mentioned. McGuire had not even been aware that he was even standing there. Since Peter had left, the precinct just hadn't been the same. Being a liaison between Caine and the force had helped to smooth things over, but so far the cases that had come through had not been that interesting. This time, something told him that things were looking up and that a couple of Shaolin priests were going to need some backup.

"Peter, I believe I have found the source of the poison."

Matthew and Peter came over to the small workbench that Lo Si had occupied for the past four days.

"It is as I suspected. It is a derivative of black widow venom."

"That means my father was poisoned by the Spider Sect."

"I have not heard of this Spider Sect." Matthew said with curiosity.

"They are very similar to the dim mak. The order split and some of the members used their knowledge for assassination and killing. They discovered the means to use the black widow's venom in many different potions to create certain desired effects. One potion that is absorbed through the skin and used to paralyze their victims, is often applied to a special type of netting that they use as traps. To be caught within it, and not freed with in several hours, could mean death."

"How do you know so much, my grandson?"

"When I was growing up at the Temple, one of the kids was lured away by the sect. My father went after him and was caught in their nets. The poison almost killed him. I . . . uh . . . disobeyed orders and went after him. I was almost caught myself. Master Kahn rescued both of us. It wasn't until years later that we ran into them again. A friend of mine almost got bit by a black widow as well, you might say. In fact, it's only been about six months since then."

Matthew shook his head. He had been so out of touch with everything around him. Though he had experienced quite a few adventures in his travels, the most recent being the Chalice of I Ching, he had not lived the life that his son and grandson apparently had. It was disturbing to know that even his Shaolin skills had been taken for granted for so long. He had not even reached the level that his own son had. Even going into his son's Bardo had drained him considerably.

"Peter, have you been able to reach your father since yesterday?" Matthew asked.

"No. All I get is darkness."

"Perhaps if you and I were to combine our chi we might reach him together."

"We can try, but I don't know what good it will do."

"We may be able to see through his eyes and determine where he is."

"If you think it's worth a try."

"I will prepare an area." Matthew gathered some incense, candles, and herbs to help in the meditaion, and began setting up a space where they could work.

"Lo Si, would it be possible to try and make an antidote from what you have there?"

"Perhaps, but if your father has been taken by the Spider Sect, they may be trying to use him in some way. They may have given him other drugs that would only serve to complicate the problem. We must find him and the original poison that he was given before we can even search for an antidote."

"I was afraid you might say that."

"Do not give up hope, young Caine. Once you and your grandfather discover where your father is, it will be up to you to free him, while your grandfather and I work to find the antidote, that is if he will allow me."

Over the course of the days they had been together, Matthew's anger toward the old apothecary had slowly waned. He could sense the sincerity in the old Shaolin and had come to realized his own anger over the situation was pointless. Still, letting go had not been easy. Maybe by making this gesture himself, he would finally put the past behind him.

"I would be honored. Come Peter, the area has been prepared."

Peter followed his grandfather into Matthew's bedroom. A small futon sat against the far wall next to a nightstand that held a single candle. Beside the futon, a space was marked out on the floor where a trunk had sat that held the old priest's clothes and a few other items. Matthew had moved the trunk and set up a small alter in front of the futon. Incense, herbs, and candles had been placed in position. Peter noticed that his grandfather's cane was resting on the bed.

"I haven't seen you use that cane very much since we've been here."

"I do not need it unless I am taking a very long walk. Though I still have some arthritis in my right hip from the injury I sustained in the accident in the Himalaya's, I still try to practice kung fu and tai chi whenever I can. I am going to need to practice tonight. I have neglected to do so in several days and am beginning to feel the difference."

"Are you in any pain?"

"Some, but it is manageable. Let us begin. Because of my hip, I will sit on the futon."

"We should be holding hands. Maybe we should both sit there."

Matthew sat on one end of the futon and Peter sat on the other. Matthew lit the candles and incense while Peter grabbed a handful of herbs and tossed them into the small pot containing burning wood. The herbs ignited in a small burst of flames and smoke rose into the air. The scent from the incense surrounded the two Shaolin. Peter and Matthew lifted their sleeves and grabbed each other's arms, Peter's brands resting face down on Matthew's. It felt strange to be touching his grandfather in this manner. Though the touch was intimate, it was also very specific. Both Matthew and Peter could feel each other's chi more readily. In this manner, they hoped to strengthen each other, more specifically, to strengthen Peter for the task ahead. Matthew would be acting as a guide, allowing Peter to do the search. Hopefully, in this way, they would be able to locate Kwai Chang Caine.

Peter drifted to consciousness. He tasted the strong tea as it was being pored into his mouth. He could feel its reviving affect as his chi returned to its normal level. He started to sit up when he felt a gentle, but surprisingly strong, arm push him down. Peter opened his eyes to see his grandfather sitting beside him on the futon, watching him with concern. It was the first time that Peter really saw the resemblance between his father and grandfather. It suddenly struck him that they all had the same eyes. Matthew waited patiently for his grandson to speak.

"I found out where he is, but I couldn't get through to him. They've done something to him. The poison has shomehow shattered his wholeness." Peter turned on his side and again shed silent tears at what had been done to his father. "He's being held in a room in some large house. I might be able to recognize the place if I saw it. I know it's not much to go on, but I did catch a glimpse of a sign. It said, 'Le Toile d'Araignee.' That's all I could find out."

A deep sigh escaped Peter's lips as exhaustion took hold. Even though the tea had helped to revitalize his chi, the energy drain was still apparent on his body. He was not very practiced at this kind of thing yet. With time, he was sure to improve, but he still extended far too much of his energy. He would have to ask his father or Lo Si just how it was they were able to do it. Maybe even his grandfather might know.

Matthew's face paled when Peter had mentioned the name from the sign. He had heard of the place. It was not too far from St. Adele. About 10 years ago, a young woman had disappeared shortly after visiting the villa ans stories had risen up about the place. The villa was supposedly the home of a woman who had been married several times and whose husbands had always disappeared soon after she became pregnant. It was rumored she had had several daughters, although each one had also disappeared and were thought to have been sent off the be raised by other families. Not much was really known for certain. The home, however, had been aptly named, Le Toile d'Araignee, the Spider's Web. The woman, after all, had been known as the Black Widow.

Matthew had remembered that, at the time the young woman's disappearance, the house had just recently been put up for sale. No one wanted to claim that house as their own, saying that it was cursed, and so it had remained empty for years. Apparently, the Spider's Web was again occupied.

*****

Jordan sat back in the seat of the plane heading for Paris and her ancestral home. She had hoped never to return to that place after what she had discovered. It was like a nightmare in itself where she felt trapped within a web, although the web was not of her own making but a result of her ancestry. She could almost feel the threads binding her and entangling themselves within her soul. If only there were a way to free her from this, but there was nothing she could do. Jordan thought back to the day she had received the letter that led to the awful discovery.

***

199-

Dear Ms. McGuire,

It has been brought to our attention that you are the sole surviving heir to Madam Araignee's estate. Enclosed you will find detailed records proving your birth and subsequent adoption to Martha and Thomas McGuire. Your birthmother died some years ago from a blood disorder and Mr. Jeromy Latrodect was named executor of the estate until all missing heirs were located. Please contact my office for further details.

Sincerely,

Mr. James Warren, attorney at law
Warren & Associates

Jordan thought herself lucky to have some time off before transferring to the 101st, and decided to look into the letter in person. Glancing down at the letterhead, she discovered that the lawyer's office was right down in the main city. She called the office and made an appointment.

"Ms. McGuire, come right in. I see you received my letter."

"Yes, althought I really don't understand. My parents never told me I had been adopted. Is this for real?"

"Yes, it is." Mr. Warren placed a thick folder on the desk and opened it to reveal a set of documments. "As you can see, the papers are in order and they do carry the seal of the adoption agency from this country, letters of approval from the French government, and even the request for change in citizenship."

"I still don't understand. If I was born elsewhere, why did my mother give me up?"

"Apparently her health was failing and she feared that she would not be able to take care of a child. She specifically requested that you be adopted by an American couple."

"You mentioned in your letter that I was the sole surviving heir. Were there more children?" Jordan's heart skipped a beat. The thought that she might have brothers and sisters somewhere intrigued her. She had been raised as an only child and had always wanted more family around her.

"No. Each of the four other daughters she had unfortunately died early in life. Not much is known about their deaths. You are the only one remaining."

This news disappointed Jordan. It would have been fun to have had sisters, she thought.

"You said that a Mr. Latrodect was the executor of the estate. How might I get in touch with him?"

"He is currently livng at your mother's estate in France. I have the address here. If you wish, I could arrange for you to meet with him."

"Yes, please. I have some leave coming before I switch jobs, about three weeks. I certainly would like to know more."

"Good. Here is the name of the estate." Mr. Warren handed Jordan a slip of paper.

"That's a curious name. What does it mean?"

"The Spider's Web."

Shivers ran up Jordan's spine. Who would name a place after spiders? There was something about them that had always given her the creeps, even as a kid. She used to have nightmares of being trapped within a giant web. Something about this didn't seem right, but her instincts as a cop told her she needed to check out every angle. If there was some truth to this fantastic tale, maybe it would be a way for her to do something more with her life. Being a cop just wasn't as exciting as she had thought it was going to be. Still, she had a new assignment and she was looking forward to working with her new partner. She had heard so much about the 101st precinct, and held out hope that it would be more exciting than the one she had worked at last. For now, Jordan had one thing on her mind, a trip to Paris and finding out about this new legacy that had been left behind for her.

**CCCRRAAAASSHH**

Jordan was startled out of her thoughts as the lightning and thunder announced its presence with deafening noise. She watched the rain streaking across the surface of the plane's outer layer as lightning flashed again. Suddenly, the plane dipped, causing several passengers to cry out. Jordan felt her stomach lurch. The seatbelt light blinked on, announcing itself in a slightly out of tone voice. Predictably, this was followed by the more soothing voice of the Capatain.

"Sorry folks. We've ran into some bad weather. We're goping to climb higher and see if we can't get above the storm. The seatbelt sign has been turned on, so if you're not seated, we suggest that you take your seat now."

Jordan looked at her watch and saw she still had five hours left before her flight was scheduled to land. She reached up to the call button and pressed it. The attendent was standing over he just minutes later.

"May I help, Miss?"

"Could I get a pillow please and a blanket? It's a little chilly in here."

"Right away."

The attendent depressed the call button, left, and soon returned with the requested items.

"Thank you," Jordan said. Shen propped the pillow up against the plane's bulkhead, pulled down the window shade panel, and snuggled under the blanket. She was soon fast asleep and dreaming of her first meeting with Jeromy Latrodect and the horrendous discovery regarding her ancestry.

*****Flshback-Dream Continues*****

Jordan deplaned at Paris' Charles De Gaul airport. She was considering renting a car and finding her own way to the estate when she spotted a sign with her name on it.

"Madam McGuire?" a well dressed man approached her. On his lapel was a pin in the shape of a spider.

"Yes?" Jordan was somewhat cautious.

"I am Jeromy Latrodect. Mr. Warren informed me that you would be arriving. I decided to meet you personally rather than just send a car. We have much to discuss."

The man helped Jordan retrieve her bags then he led her to the short term lot for passenger pickup. He walked toward a limousine that Jordan had only dreamed about riding in. He placed her bags in the trunk while another man got out and opened the back door and usher Jordan into the back seat. The man waited for Latrodect to enter the car. Soon they were pulling away from the airport.

The drive to the estate was silent. Jordan was caught up in her own thoughts, formulating questions to ask her mysterious companion, when Latrodect spoke.

"Would you care for a drink?"

"Yeah, sure."

Latrodect opened a panel, displaying a small well-stocked bar, and pulled out aun unlabeled bottle containing an amber colored liquid.

"I am told this was your mother's favorite drink."

Latrodect poured some of the amber liquid into a glass.

"Careful, it is quite strong."

Jordan took the glass and caustiously sipped the contents. It had an unusual flavor, not unlike brandy, but none of the burning sensation.

"Actually it's quite good, thank you."

Jordan took a larger swallow of the drink. A small smile spread across Ladrodect's face as he watched Jordan finish off the amber liquid.

'You are indeed your mother's daughter,' he thought. 'Only those with the blood of the Black Widow could have tasted the Spider's Venom and not be effected.'

Jordan craned her neck as the limo approached the drive to the estate. She could see the large house through the trees. A large picture window was back-lit through varying panes of glass, giving it the appearance of a giant spider's web. That one feature alone made it easy to see how the house had gotten its name.

The driver stopped at the front entrance and opened the door to let his passengers out. Jordan approached the front door and was brought up short by the obvious underlining theme of spiders. A pattern of inlaid wood, designed to make it appear as if a spider was creeping along its web to approach its unsuspecting prey, graced the large structure. Jordan shivered in response to it. She was beginning to wonder if this had been a good idea.

Jordan was startled when Latrodect approached without a sound.

"Come, I will show you to your room so you may freshen up and then I will show you the estate."

The house was large and everywhere Jordan looked there was evidence of the family's obsession with spiders. Paintings, sculptures, and even the rugs on the floor contained a spider somewhere in their design. Even the house itself seemed to have been built with the design of a web in mind. Delicate filligree could be seen woven into the plaster of the ceiling in web-like patterns. The corridors gave the appearance that they were walking along the strands of a complex web system. Some were extremely narrow while others widened into large rooms. The only time a door could be seen was when a hallway intersected with another, sometimes in one place, sometimes in two or three. Stairs also intersected at some of the junctures, leading either down or up to points unknown. Latrodect led Jordan through the complex until finally, they reached what must have been the center of the house.

"This will be your room. After all, it belonged to your mother, so it is now yours."

Jordan almost did not enter. In fact, she thought about turning around and running back out the front door. The only thing that prevented her from doing just that was the knowledge that she would almost immediately find herselt lost within the many corridors and rooms. Inside the bedroom was a giant fourposter bed that, from where Jordan was standing, looked as if it was being swallowed by the giant spider sculpture that rose up around it. In fact, the sculpture was part of the bed. The four posts making up the bed were part of the structure's legs while the other four rose to meet the ceiling with the body of the spider in between. Within the spider's body, Jordan could make out the telltale sign of the Black Widow. Seeing this finally unnerved Jordan so much that she found herself becoming dizzy and a blackness over took her.

"No. No, I don't want this."

"You have no choice, Madam McGuire." Latrodect stated. "It is your destiny."

He handed Jordan another glass filled with the amber liquid. Jordan took it without saying a word. Oddly enough, the liquid seemed to ease the fear that permeated her soul. Her destiny? What was he talking about? Jordan gave Latrodect a puzzled look.

"Centuries ago in China, there was a group of men and women who were healers. They specialized in understanding how poison affected the body and mind. They especially studied the affects of spider venom on the nervous system. They were known as the Spider Sect. The emperor of China at the time became quite interested in their methods. He employed a few of them to assist him in matters of state."

"You mean he used their methods for assassinations and killing those who might be a threat to him."

"Very astute of you. Yes, that was part of their repertoire, you might say. Anyway, the Shaolin took offense." Latrodect spat out the hated order. "They believed that their skills should only be used for the good of all and for healing. Those who 'repented' went back to the order, while those who did not, were driven underground and finally out of China, especially our ancestor."

"OUR ancestor? I don't understand."

"Over 800 years ago, a monk named Kong Dufan discovered the properties of the spider's venom and its other uses. The line of Dufan, however, did not carry through the male but through the female. There were males but they were rare. When the Shaolin discovered that certain members of the sect were using their skills for methods other than healing, the line went underground. Eventually, they left China and settled in other parts, including here. The line intermarried and the name eventually changed to what it is today, Araignee."

"But your last name is Latrodect, how could you be related to me, even if I believed you."

"Look at me. Our eyes are the same. We carry the same blood in our veins." Latrodect poured himself a glass of the amber liquid and downed it in one swallow. He held up the glass for Jordan to see. "This is the Spider's Venom. Only those of the Blood can drink it. It was also discovered that only one particular line was able to absord it's effects and use the venom for their own purpose. After a time, the venom became part of the blood. We are related. If we weren't, the venom would act like a poison, and I am told it has some very nasty side effects. It had been perfected over centuries of research. No one knows it's full affects on an individual. Some die quickly, others . . .simply go mad, to name a few." Latrodect casually poured himself another glass.

Jordan's eyes widened at this new information. She stared at the glass that had held the amber liquid that she had been drinking. It nearly made her ill. Still, she had to learn more and the reason why Latrodect seemed to hate the Shaolin, whoever they might be. For now, she ignored the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and focused on the first revelation. "How are we related?"

"Your mother had a sister, my mother. She did not have the Blood, but it flowed in me. And soon, you will learn how to use the Blood as I have done."

"Why?"

"To exact revenge on those that would take what is rightfully ours, my cousin."

Jordan stared at the man as if he was mad. What had she gotten herself into?

*****End of Flashback - Dream*******

Jordan was brought out of her drams by another sudden drop of the plane. She woke up feeling nauseated, more from learning about her heritage and relationship to Latrodect then from the ongoing turbulance the plane was experiencing. Jordan pulled out the bottle of amber liquid from her carry-on and took a large swallow. She knew she should have stopped drinking the stuff months ago, but the liquid had become both her life-line and her death warrant. Just then, the pilot's voice came over the loudspeaker once again.

"Sorry folks, we've hit more air turbulence. I'll have to ask everyone to remain seated. It's going to be a bumpy ride for awhile. Just bear with us."

Jordan looked at her watch and saw that only about three hours had passed. There were still two hours left before they reached their destination. There wasn't much else to do but sleep, read, or spend the time thinking. She still could not believe that she had gotten involved and yet it was as if she had had no choice. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the phone conversation she had shared with Latrodect. What did the man want with her this time and why had he brought up Caine? She had thought she was done with that business months ago. Jordan looked briefly around. Someone familiar caught her attention. Could it be? No, he's back at the precinct, he wouldn't be here. 'He certainly does look like Kermit,' she thought. "My imagination must be getting the better of me. After this, I'm taking a vacation, some place where I don't have to look at another spider ever again. Latrodect, I hope you have a good reason for dragging me back to that place.'

Matthew Caine rubbed the weariness from his eyes and replaced his glasses on his nose. A few hours after Peter left, a knock on the door caught his attention.

"Entrez," Matthew remained seated with his back to the door. "Puis-je vous aider?"

"Uh, is this Matthew Caine's cottage?"

"Kermit, come in." Lo Si came from the small kitchen area carrying a tray of tea and a couple of bowls of rice.

"Lo Si, I didn't expect to see you here. I've got to find Peter, is he here?"

"My grandson is not here. He has gone to rescue his father."

Kermit was brought up short when the gentleman who had spoken French a moment ago responded in English. He took another look at the elderly gentleman sitting by the workbench and slipped his green shades off in surprise.

"Kermit, may I introduce you to Matthew Caine."

"I don't believe it. He looks just like . . ."

Matthew shrugged his shoulders in the same manner as his son, pride shining out from his eyes, couple with something unidentifiable.

"Kermit, there is a disturbance in your chi. Tell us, what is wrong?"

Kermit turned to Lo Si then back to Matthew.

"It's Peter. I think he maybe walking into a trap but I don't know where he's gone."

Matthew, though not practiced in knowing where his son and grandson were, became concerned.

"What do you mean?"

"It's Jordan, Peter's girlfriend, or, I should say ex-girlfriend. She's involved somehow," Kermit said shaking his head in disbelief. "I overheard her talking to someone over the phone. I followed her from the States without her knowledge, although it wasn't easy. She's a good detective herself. She nearly spotted me a few times. Keeping her from seeing me on one of those commuter shuttle flights from Sloanville to New York was no picnic. There was no way to avoid taking the same flights as her if I was going to keep her in sight. We've got to find Peter and warn him. Do you know where he's gone?"

"I know. I will take you to him."

"Matthew, you should not go. Your skills in Kung Fu have not been tested for many years," Lo Si said with concern. "It is I who should go."

"No, I must do this. My son and grandson need me. Your apothecary skills are more advanced than mine. You must continue to try to create the anti-venom. Come Kermit, we must hurry if we are to help Peter and my son."

Matthew grabbed his hat, coat, a brown leather pouch, and his cane.

"It is my son's pouch. It may aid us."

"Do not forget Matthew. We need a sample of the poison if we are to succeed in helping Kwai Chang."

"I shall not forget, Master." Matthew turned to Lo Si and bowed before rushing from the cottage. Kermit was having a hard time keeping up with the older man. Apparently, his advanced age had not slowed down his walking speed.

"Are we going to walk all the way? I have a car."

Matthew smiled broadly. "I will ride with you. Better to save on shoe leather and get where we are going much faster."

*****

Peter approached the boundary of the property. The sign denoting the name of the estate confirmed he was on the right track. He fully reached out with his chi only to discover the same, frustrating blankness. His father's essence had been swallowed into a darkness that he should have been able to overcome. In that brief instant, Peter was struck from behind and he, too, fell into darkness.

"Looks like the spider's web caught itself a little fly. What should we do with him Mr. Latrodect?"

Latrodect eyed the man hanging limply between his two associates. He could clearly see the brands on the young man's exposed arms as his sleeves rode up. 'So, he's Shaolin now,' thought the man. 'This should prove to be interesting.'

"Give him some of that liquid you're always drinking. You know, the stuff you keep giving the priest."

Suddenly, Peter came awake and kicked out, knocking Latrodect to the floor. He then levered one of the two men that held him and threw him into the other. He continued to keep the three men at bay when a fourth man came from behind and struck Peter at the base of his shoulder and neck. Peter fell to the floor in a heap.

Latrodect rose from the floor and smiled, "Very good, Caine. Now, go back to your cell. We'll call you when we need you again." Latrodect watched as Kwai Chang Caine walked back down the hall. His steps were controlled and his face was devoid of any life. His eyes, however, were haunted and filled with pain It was the look of a man who was hopelessly trapped.

"Take the young man to the special room that we have prepared for someone like him. The Madam is going to want to question him personally." Latrodect watched the men drag the young Shaolin to the prepared space. 'Soon my young friend, you will die, and at the hands of your own father.'

Jordan arrived at the estate just as Kermit was arriving at Matthew Caine's.

"All right cousin, what's this all about?"

"You have a visitor, follow me."

"You had me come all the way from the States just to tell me that? You know what our agreement was, you leave me alone and I turn a blind eye from the Sect's operations whenever they're in my city. The money I get for that comes from my mother's estate with an official letter so no one suspects. If there are any questions, I'd have a legitimate reason, besides it's mine anyway."

Latrodect turned and glared at his cousin.

"I was named executor of the estate. You may have inherited the title to the property, but you do not have control of the funds until you produce an heir to this little empire. Until then, I am in charge and I know what must be done. Your "guest" is waiting."

Jordan felt powerless against her cousin. Rage filled her at how she had been out maneuvered. 'At least he hasn't controlled my love-life,' she thought. 'Not by much, anyway.'

Jordan followed Latrodect down a series of corridors that led to the back of the house. They entered a large dark room. Latrodect touched a switch and the room was bathed in light. What assaulted Jordan's eyes fueled her rage even more, but she could not let Latrodect know.

Peter Caine hung from the ceiling, his arms out stretched and his body entangled in a giant spider's web made of ropes. The decor of the room was consistant with that of the rest of ot he house. Sillouetts of webs wove patterns on the floor, ceiling, and walls. The room also felt like it was moving. Spiders of all shapes and sizes crawled everywhere, even along the ropes and across Peter's exposed skin. Jordan could clearly see the brands that marked Peter's forearms. Something in those marks hardened her heart. She had not fully understood what Peter had meant when he had said he was now fully Shaolin. Part of her wanted to scream her anger at what she deemed his stupidity at doing something so cruel and inhuman to himself. Another part raged at what the symbols represented, a religious order that wanted to take what was rightfully hers. Still, she could not deny that she harbored feelings for the man that was Peter Caine. Jordan observed that Latrodect and his men had not been too gentle when they had placed Peter in this position. It appeared he sustained what looked like fresh welts from a whip. Some of them still bled freely.

"Bring him to my quarters."

"Is that wise?"

"You can keep him bound for all I care, just bring him."

****

Ping Hai rubbed the tiredness from his eyes. He had been working to break down the small amount of compound he had from the small amount of Kwai Chang's blood in order to reconstruct it to be able to find the anti-venom. Each time he thought he had found the answer, something else went wrong. Whatever the compound was, it reacted differently each time. It just wasn't going to work as easily as he had originally hoped. He needed to have the original liquid that had been given to Kwai Chang and go from there. The thought of his friend, however, continuing to suffer while they searched for a cure did not set well with the Shambhala Master. It had been hard enough to have to face the suffering of his friend's broken heart, having had to convince Kwai Chang that his son had been killed in the destruction of the Temple. It had been equally hard to convince the son that the same fate that had befallen his father. Hardest of all, had been convincing himself that it had been necessary. In doing so, Ping Hai had actually made himself ill, but he had succeeded in being convincing enough that Peter had been sent to the orphanage. Pig Hai had regretted that decision for many years, but that too, had been necessary to try and convince Tan that he had also died soon afterward. Later, Ping Hai had returned to the Temple with Master Kahn to collect whatever items he could that had remained in tact. Three years prior to the destruction, Ping Hai had heard of the birth of the new Emperor. In fact, he had specifically been summoned, but was unable to perform the necessary duties as a council member. He had to remain at the Temple to see that Peter and Kwai Chang were protected until the time waS right for them to fulfill their destinies.

Seeing Matthew Caine again had brought back all of the pain, even that which he had brought upon himself. Even now, he coud feel the old pain creeping back to bring on that weakness that forced him to send Peter to the orphanage. Though he had been forgiven, Ping Hai could not forgive himself that easily. He had lied, and had lived with that lie for nearly 20 years. Though there had been some relief when he had finally revealed the truth, it had not been enough. He had to find some way to forgive himself. Maybe, by saving Kwai Chang, he could finally find the absolution that he sought. Ping Hai returned his thoughts to the task at hand and to tried once again to search for the elusive anti-venom that would be a beginning to restoring his friend's health.

Ping Hai sighed to himself and sat back. He was going to need some time away to recharge. Perhaps after this "little adventure," he would return to Shambhala and renew his chi. It would be necessary. The line of Caine would need re-evaluating and Kwai Chang may need the services of the masters to help restore what the Spider Sect had stolen, his sense of self. Ping Hai shuddered at the mention of the Sect. He had never known them to use anything as powerful as what they were facing now. This drug was something he had not seen before. He hoped that Peter would be up to the task of rescuing his father, and that Matthew and Kermit would get there in time.

Peter woke feel a cool wet cloth easing the stinging sensation in his back. He found himself relaxing into the coolness. Thoughts of his father bathing him as a child when he would suffer from a high fever came to mind. Suddenly, Peter's eyes snapped open and he quickly turned over to face . . .,

"Jordan? What are you doing here?"

*SLAP*

Peter felt the sting and was shocked at the sudden blow from Jordan. He could feel his left cheek redden as blood rose to the surface from the abuse it received. He looked at her closely and saw anger burning in her eyes.

"How could you?"

"How could I what?" Confusion filled the young Shaolin's mind. "What are you talking about and how could you be here?" The last question was irrelevant at the moment because even Peter did not know where 'here' was.

"How could you do that to yourself? How could you . . .you . . . . burn yourself like that? Was it your father's idea? I thought you cared for me."

Realizing what Jordan was referring to, Peter did his best to remain calm and gently explained, "Jordan, my taking the brands had nothing to do with you. And it wasn't my father's idea. It was time. You knew what my life was becoming like. I had to make a decision as to where and how I was going to grow. I couldn't be a cop and be a Shaolin, too. There just wasn't enough compassion in the system to be able to really aid those who might need help, including the perps."

Jordan stared down at her former lover. "So you thought by becoming Shaolin, you could buck the system." Sarcasm dripped from her lips. "You know very well that some of those 'perps' deserve what they get."

"No, they don't," Peter said sadly and quietly, his father's words echoing in his mind bringing back lessons of undiscriminating virtue. "After taking the brands, I finally realized that everyone deserves a chance to find their true path. I also realized that some of those 'perps' may very well had reacted out of fear and desperation. They were crying out for help. Even though others believe they do not deserve help, they do, equally as the victims whom we believe are only deserving of it. Why am I arguing this with you? I thought you understood. It was you who left me, Jordan. What is going on?" Peter reached out with his chi and could sense the confusion and conflict within Jordan's spirit. He also sensed that something was drastically wrong with Jordan's chi. He reached toward her to try to comfort her, but she slapped his hand away. "Jordan please, something has disburbed your chi. I want to help."

"You sound just like your father." Venom coursed through her words. "You don't know what you've done by becoming like him. They took everything away, everything that we should have had, the power, the glory. They will all pay, starting with you and your father. You should have stayed a cop. You might have lived longer."

"Jordan, you're not making any sense."

Just at that moment, Latrodect entered. "I heard shouting. Are you all right my cousin?"

Peter was quickly on his feet. He pushed Jordan behind himself ready to defend her against the man that just entered.

"Latrodect. I should have known." Peter said with controlled anger.

"It's all right, cousin. I'm not harmed. You may take him back to his 'room.' I have no more use for him."

"Cousin?" Peter's eyes became wide at the implication of Jordan's words and he turned back to face her. The sudden ache in his heart felt like a knife driving deep as he realized that his nightmare was becoming reality. Jordan was lost to him. She was more than just entangled in a spider's web, she was a member of the Sect. "Jordan, no."

Before Peter could react to the awareness of danger, a needle was jammed into his arm and he soon found himself slipping into a drug induced sleep.

"Was it necessary to give him the Venom, too?"

"I only gave him a sedative. We don't want him to become like his Daddy, remember?"

"What do you plan on doing with him?"

"You said it yourself. He will pay for what his kind had done, by dying at the hands of his own father. As we speak, I'm having a space prepared for the entertainment."

A shudder ran through Jordan as Latrodect left with two of his associates, carrying Peter between them. She had not expected to react the way she had. She had hoped to try and reason with Peter, maybe even consider seeing if he would join with her, but she saw the look in his eyes when he learned that she was related to Latrodect. He believed her to be lost to him, and perhaps she was. Jordan wrapped her arms around herself to try to ward off the chill in her own soul. 'What's happening to me?' she thought. 'I was a good cop, but that no longer seems to matter to me now. I need a drink.'.

Jordan walked over to the small table and poured more of the Spider's Venom from a decanter into a glass. She could feel the Venom coursing through her body as it trickled down her throat. As the amber liquid spread through her, she could sense the power grow within her.

'If Peter wants to have his brands, than I can have my powers, too.' Jordan thought. 'Maybe Latrodect was right. Maybe it was best that the Shaolin be destroyed.' Jordan realized she had gotten use to this secret life and she wanted more. The priests would only hamper their plans, whatever those plans might be. If Latrodect wanted Kwai Chang Caine to fight his own son, then so be it. Even if the older priest were to fail, they would still succeed. With Caine being controlled, the only way Peter would survive would be by killing his own father. Jordan knew if he did that, it would destroy the young priest's soul and doom him to a life-time of wandering. The Sect would then be free to act without interference.

'Oh, Peter, if only you hadn't taken those stupid brands, then maybe we would still be together.'

Matthew came up behind Kermit, startling him out of his focused sentry duty.

"You're about as bad as your son. Make a sound next time."

"I will endeavour to do so . . . next time. We must go this way."

Matthew led the way. Finding the path that Matthew spoke of was not easy. They had to walk about a mile out of their way before they could find another small road that led them around the estate. The path that they finally found was not marked. It was more a narrow track, worn down from countless feet that had walked the path before.

"We must wait. It will be dark soon and there will be less of a chance of being discovered."

As they waited, Kermit tried to make conversation with the oldest member of the Caine Clan.

"How is it that you ended up here in France? I thought maybe you would have been living in the States."

"I did for a time, after I returned from the Himalayas. It took nearly two years to recover from the injuries that I received. I had also lost my memory and did not even remember that I had a son. For a time, I believed I was back in China until something triggered their return. When I finally remembered, I returned to find that my son was no longer at the Temple. He had finished his training and had taken the brands without me and begun his own journey. I did not know where to even begin looking for him. I wandered for a time, hearing rumors, but each time I tried to find him, I was too late. I realized that I could not chase my son over the whole country. He had a life to lead, so, I returned to France and to St. Adele where I had discovered the resting place of the Chalis of I Ching during the war. My intention was to see what I could learn, perhaps see if I could return the Chalis to China, but it was never meant to be. Instead, I became one of the Chalis' protectors."

"I heard about the Chalis from Peter. I wish I could have been there to see it."

"The Chalis would not have permitted it."

"What do you mean?" Kermit questioned.

"Within you is a darkness, even though the light also exists. The Chalis would have sensed this darkness. It would have lashed out and destroyed you as it did another."

"But only if you touched it, right?"

"Perhaps. Come we must go. It is time."

"But it's not dark yet. There's still about an hour of daylight left."

"We must hurry. Kwai Chang and Peter need us."

Without another word, Kermit pulled out his Desert Eagle and followed the quickly disappearing Shaolin.

*****

Latrodect entered the room where Peter had been secured. It felt like an arena. Chairs had been set up on a raised platform. Peter watched as Jordan entered holding onto her cousin's arm. Anger rose within the young Shaolin at the betrayal he felt. How could she play him for a sucker? Then the dream image of Jordan trapped within a web, dying, creturned. He tried to calm his chi and to search for the truth. His anger toward her dissipated when he sensed the change within her. Something was poisoning her chi, changing her into something he could not speak of. It felt familiar somehow. Then he saw her reach for a decanter and pour herself what looked like apricot brandy. He watched her drink the liquid down as if her life depended on it. Then Peter watched as Latrodect did the same thing and his thoughts went back to when he had first been captured. Peter sent his chi out farther and discovered that the liquid was the source that was poisoning Jordan.

'That's got be the same stuff they gave my father,' Peter thought. One of Latrodect's men had said that Latrodect was always drinking something and that it was the same stuff they had given the priest, and the priest could only mean one person. As Peter watched, others entered the room and took up their positions. Then Peter saw two familiar faces.

"Pop!" Peter called to his father.

The elder Caine turned toward his son but what Peter saw was not his father. His eyes had a haunted and vacant look. There was no recognition, his face a mask of stone. Behind Caine entered a women, her face carrying the same expression. Peter's breath caught in his throat. It was the other woman from his dream, his mother.

Latrodect waved for one of his men. "Make sure you get every angle. After this is over, you can begin to give Caine the anti-venom, but not too much. Just enough to bring him partially back to reality. Then I want you to leave that video tape with his son's body where Caine will be able to find both. Be sure there's a note with it so he will know he needs to watch it to learn what happened. Oh, one other thing. Since the woman is no longer needed, we may as well kill two "Caines" with one. Have him kill her as well. That should complete his destruction. But if the priest does not succeed in killing his son, prepare my car. We will take her with us. There will be another time."

"Yes Mr. Latrodect."

"Caine!" Latrodect called toward the older Shaolin. "Pick up that spear and destroy the young man over there."

Peter watched his father slowly move toward a rack of weapons as if hypnotised. Peter struggled against his bonds just as his father had taught him. The lesson from the Temple again came back to him with clarity. It was this very first lesson that had returned when Tan had also held him prisoner in the same manner. Suddenly, Caine turned and threw the spear at his son. Peter reacted as best he could and twisted his body toward the side to try to make himself a smaller target. The spear grazed his left side, sending waves of pain through his body. Peter gritted his teeth and let the pain wash through him.

"Embrace the pain, make it one with you, then let it go." His father's voice echoed in his mind.

Peter continued to work at his bonds while his father walked over and picked up another weapon. This time, Caine grabbed several throwing stars. Peter prepared for the next assault.

*****

"We must hurry, Kermit. I can sense that Peter has been injured. We must stop his father before he destroys his own soul."

Kermit was surprised at how fast the eldest of the Caine line moved. He could barely keep up with the Shaolin. He was liking this gentle man more and more by the minute. So much of him reminded Kermit of Kwai Chang. Soon they came in sight of the estate. The grounds looked deserted, but Kermit was well aware that appearances could be deceptive. 'I wish I'd brought some of Paul's special equipment for detecting security nets,' Kermit thought to himself. Suddenly, he felt a familiar tingling at the back of his neck, as the soft hairs rose, warning him that something wasn't right.

"Hold it Caine," Kermit whispered harshly. "Someone's rigged a trap."

"I know. Follow me and you will be able to avoid it."

"How did you . . . Never mind. I don't want to know." 'Must be a Shaolin thing that runs in the family,' he thought.

Kermit kept Matthew Caine in his sights. As daylight faded, Kermit removed his trademark sunglasses in order to see better. Carefully and deliberately, as if walking on rice paper, Matthew stepped gingerly, avoiding certain spots on the lawn. Kermit followed Matthew's every move being careful to step in exactly the same place each time. As soon as they reached the terrace at the back of the house, four men came at them, bearing clubs. Apparently, they had been watching the two men make their way across the yard. The men must have been waiting to see if the traps would be triggered. From their expressions, Kermit figured that they had even been laying bets to see who would last the longest without being blown up. All four lost both their bets and their consciousness as Shaolin feet, hands, and cane were brought up to send two of the men flying across the stone patio. Kermit took the third man out, but almost became a victim of the fourth. Matthew was suddenly there stopping the man.

"Thanks, I owe you one." Kermit was breathing hard. He was still amazed at how well Matthew had fought. 'Well, I shouldn't be too surprised. If the Ancient is able to do it, why not this Caine.'

"We must hurry. Peter does not have much time." Matthew said concern coming through. "And neither does Kwai Chang."

Latrodect watched as Caine tossed the stars at Peter. Jordan sat by his side, suddenly unsure of how she should feel. A part of her did not want to see Peter injured, while another part reveled in anticipation of the Shaolin's death.

Peter tried to struggle and pull himself away from the flying objects, but he could not avoid them all together. The first struck him in the left thigh. The next came close to his head, but he managed to move just before it would have grazed his left cheek. The third struck him in his right shoulder. The fourth and fifth stars never even came close. That's when Peter realized that, although his father was tossing weapons at him with deadly force, not a single one was coming close to killing him. In some small way, his father's subconscious was fighting the programming that had been done to him.

As his father went back to the rack of weapons, Peter took a moment and looked at Latrodect. He could see small lines of frustration forming on the man's face. He had obviously been hoping that the priest would have killed his son by now. Peter could see that he was beginning to lose patience and even interest.

"What's the matter, Latrodect," Peter taunted the man. "Can't get good help these days? You can't force a Shaolin priest to kill another out of cold blood, no matter what you do to him. My father won't kill me. I know him."

"That's what you think boy." Latrodect signaled and Peter watched in horror as his father picked up a weapon, which under ordinary circumstances, he knew the priest would never use.

*****

Kermit and Matthew made their way through the maze of corridors. The ex-mercenary was amused at how Matthew seemed to know where they were heading without needing to ask or follow someone, as if he was equipped with a built in radar system.

'Maybe his Shaolin senses are improving,' thought Kermit.

Though they ran into a surprisingly few number of guards along the way .

'Perhaps the traps that they set around the house were supposed to keep out ordinary intruders, but not a Shaolin and an ex-mercenary,' Kermit thought with pride.

Pride turned swiftly into horror as they suddenly stumbled upon a scene that stopped them both in their tracks. Peter's wrists were bound and he was hanging in front of what looked like a large spider web, making him look like a spider's prey. Kermit and Matthew could also see that he was bleeding from several wounds. The scene was not unlike many others that Kermit had faced in his days as a mercenary, except for one thing. Just a few feet away from the captive, Caine stood aiming a gun at his own son. Without warning, Kermit brought up his Desert Eagle and fired, knocking the gun from Caine's hand as the older man pulled the trigger. For a moment, Peter was stunned and he could not move. He hung limply, as if waiting for something to happen. The bullet that his father had fired had imbedded itself in the target just inches away from where it was originally aimed: directly at his heart.

Matthew moved quickly to free his grandson only to find his way barred by one of the guards. He easily deflected the spear the man thrust at his and prepared his own counterattack, determined to get to his grandson as quickly as possible.

Pain continued to shoot through Peter's body as he continued to work furiously at his bonds. Even though he was glad to see his would be rescuers, he had to stop Latrodect from further harming his father and even his mother further.

"Grandfather. Grab the decanter on the table. It contains the poison."

Suddenly, Peter found himself dropping to the floor as he finally broke free of the constricting ropes. As soon as his feet hit the floor, he removed the two throwing stars protruding from his shoulder and thigh and was on the move.

Meanwhile, Kermit was busy with Caine. Af first, Caine just stood there with a mixed look of horror and shame in his eyes.

"Caine, stop them!" Latrodect shouted as he scrambled to get clear. He rushed to the table that held the other weapons.

Though Kwai Chang could still fight, Kermit could see that much of his movements were slower than normal. Kermit did not want to hurt Caine, but if it came down to it, he would not hesitate to kill him. The ex-nmercenary saw his opening and struck Caine a blow that sent him unconscious to the floor. At least this way, he'd be able to carry him out in one piece.

"Kermit, take my father from this place." Peter rushed toward Latrodect, bent on stopping the man once and for all. In his rage, he did not see the gun being raised in his direction.

"No!" Jordan suddenly arched her back and fell as her cousin fired the gun at her one-time lover. She had placed herself in between the two men, realizing at the last possible moment that she did not want Peter Caine to die.

"Jordan!"

Peter caught her in his arms before she hit the floor.

"I'm sorry, Peter," were the last words that Jordan spoke as she reached up to caress her former lover's cheek. Then her lifeless hand dropped to the floor. Jordan was gone.

Peter turned toward Latrodect only to discover he was gone, along with the woman who looked like Laura Caine.

Peter laid Jordan's body down as gently as possible before he rushed through the door that Latrodect had exited. He barely caught a glimpse of the man dragging the woman by the arm. Peter focused his ch,i and as he came in sight of Latrodect, brought up his arm and sent the man and woman flying with a displacement of air. The woman also fell from the force of Peter's chi. Just as Latrodect came to his feet, Peter was there giving the man a double flying kick that again sent him to the floor, this time for good. Peter approached the woman and turned her over. His breath caught in his throat when he gazed upon her face.

"Mother?"

The woman opened her eyes but there was no life behind them.

"She must have also been controlled by Latrodect." Matthew stood behind him. "We shall take her back and see what we can do."

Peter looked up to stare at Matthew only to observe that Latrodect was no longer where he had fallen. He watched, anger sowly building, as a spider crawled across the floor to a nearby room. Suddenly, Peter stood and crushed the spider under his foot. Although his oath as a Shaolin told him that every life was precious, there were times when there had to be exceptions. This was one of those times. Taking a life, whatever life that might be, had become more difficult for the young Shaolin, but Peter decided he would deal with the guilt and consequences later.

"Latrodect will not return to harm us, again. The cycle of his lives has ended."

Peter picked up the fallen woman and cradled her against his breast. Matthew watched his grandson with concern. He did not know who the woman was, but Peter seemed to treat her with great care. Perhaps they would all learn her identity after they were able to find the cure to the poison that also affected her.

An hour later, Lo Si was grateful to see everyone return, plus two extras, Kwai Chang Caine and an unknown women. Both were still in a catatonic state. Without Latrodect controlling them, they would not react to anyone's voice. They stared straight ahead with no response.

"Lo Si, can you do anything for them?" Peter asked with deep concern.

"Do you have the poison?"

"Yes." Matthew pulled a bottle containing an amber liquid from Kwai Chang's brown pouch.

Lo Si reached for it and could sense that what they had found matched what he was able to extract from the blood sample on the cloth.

"It may be some time before the anti-venom is completed."

"May I assist?" Matthew asked.

Lo Si grinned with pleasure. "I would be honored."

Peter and Kermit managed to coax both the woman and Kwai Chang to lay down. It wasn't that hard. In the state they were in, any amount of guidance given to them through a touch made it easy for them. Peter sat next to his father as he laid on his grandfather's futon. He had never seen his father in this state. Peter could see a single tear fall from his father's closed eyes.

'Oh God, he knows what he did,' Peter thought. 'He's trapped within his own mind. He knew what was happening and he couldn't stop it.'

"It's all right, Pop." Peter consoled. "I knew you would never hurt me. Grandfather helped to fix my wounds on the way back to his place. I'll be sore for a few days, but I'll live. Please Pop. It wasn't your fault. Latrodect controlled you. I'll help you, if you'll let me. Please, if you can hear me. Give me some kind of sign."

There was no response. Peter almost let his emotions overtake him until he remembered the woman. He was quickly at her side on the small cot. She had also been placed in his grandfather's sleeping area. He pulled out the locket that he had worn since going back to the Temple and could not believe what he saw. It was as if she had not aged.

'Could this really be my mother?' he thought.

Peter brushed the hair from her face and was suddenly drawn to small scars along her hairline at the base of her neck.

"Peter?"

"Kermit?" Peter was distracted from Kermit entering.

"Don't you think we need to deal with Jordan? I mean, what will everyone say when they find out that . . ."

'Jordan!' Peter thought, a feeling of anguish entered his heart.

"We'll have to make arrangements to have her body flown home. But I'm at a loss as to how to explain how she . . ."

"Tell the truth, that her cousin shot her trying to protect me. I'll back you up on that."

"We better go take care of that then. The place may be crawling with French police by now."

Peter gave a heavy sigh, "Oh yeah."

"Hey, that's my line." Kermit said in jest to try to lighten the heavy mood that threatened to swallow them.

"Kermit, thanks for coming after me."

"No problem, kid. It's what I'm here for."

As Kermit predicted, the house was now crawling with French police. Someone had called them when they saw several people running from the house. Jordan's body had been removed and placed in a body bag and then onto a gurney. The police were bagging other evidence as well, including the throwing stars, the spear, and anything else they could get their hands on. The young Shaolin and his friend were questioned separately. Peter was able to prove that he had been a victim from the scars that had been left behind. When they asked who had wounded him, Peter's answers became evasive. He did not want his father involved. It was possible that he would not even recover from the poison. Peter tried to banish the unthinkable. as he rubbed at the deeper of the three wounds his father had inflicted upon him. Two of the wounds were healing quickly, thanks to his grandfather's ministrations and Peter taking the time to focus his chi on the wounded areas.

"I came looking for my father. My grandfather had contacted me saying he was in trouble."

"And he had been kidnapped by this Spider Sect?" The inspector's tone was colored with obvious sacrasm and disbelief.

"Yes."

"The leader of this so-called sect was called Latrodect?"

"Yes. My father and I had a run-in with him before in the states. He was the man that disappeared."

"Why did you not call the police to aid you?"

"My father was in trouble. A Shaolin's duty is to help. Besides, there was no real hard evidence. I was a cop myself before I became Shaolin and I understand that, unless there is some hard evidence, it's hard to prove any accusation. But you have, at least, some evidence now."

"All we have is a dead woman, whom you claim to know, and several bloody weapons that you claimed were thrown at you by someone else whom you also seem to have known but will not identify. Plus, this Latrodect character is missing." The inspector pronounced the name with a distinct trill on the 't'.

"The man involved was under Latrodect's control. He probably won't remember that it even happened."

"And this friend of yours, he will reveal more perhaps?"

"Kermit was there. He and my grandfather helped rescue my father and me . . . and someone else." Peter got the feeling that the inspector still did not believe him, but thought of him as a suspect in Jordan's death. He was glad for Kermit's presence.

"We will speak to this man Kermit Griffin and your grandfather, Matthew Caine. Where is he?"

"He took my father and a young woman back to St. Adele to his apothecary to see what help he can give them."

"Then I will speak with Monsieur Griffin first. Do not leave France."

"I have no intention of leaving, but my friend needs to take Jordan McQuire's body back to the states. Her parents are there. She was also assigned to the 101st precinct in Sloanville. Everyone back there is going to need to be informed."

"We understand. Arrangements will be made later. You may go. Please ask Monsieur Griffin to come in."

Kermit's statement corroborated Peter's story and added more information as to who had shot Jordan McQuire. Kermit was also rather evasive as to who had wounded Peter Caine. He very much understood that the young Shaolin wanted to protect that person's identity at all cost. When asked about Matthew Caine and Latrodect, Kermit also indicated that Matthew was back in St. Adele with Latrodect's former prisoners. Though Kermit had not been there when Peter had finally fought the man, he also hinted at that Latrodect had disappeared. They both felt that the police would not believe them if they knew the truth, that Latrodect had been capable of turning himself into a spider in order to escape, unnoticed. They both knew the police would search and the case would never be solved.

Before the police took Jordan's body away, Peter wanted to say his goodbyes.

"I know we haven't seen eye-to-eye on everything. I just wanted you to know that I bear you not ill will now. Latrodect is gone. Thanks for saving my life, Detective McGuire. Kermit will make sure that Strenlich and the rest of the gang understand. They don't have to know about your part in Latrodect's plans, I promise." Peter bent down and kissed Jordan's cold forehead. "Goodbye Jordie. I did love you."

Peter re-zipped the body bag and tears fell silently as he watched them place Jordan's body in the back of the police morgue van. He felt Kermit's comforting hand on his shoulder.

"She did the right thing in the end. I found something that you might want to take a look at later. It might help to understand what happened to make her change."

"I know what caused her change. It was the same poison that they gave my father," Peter said bitterly.

"I'll make sure Latrodect's "lab" is destroyed. So, what happens to the Spider Sect now? Is Latrodect going to return to haunt us again?"

"No. He is gone. I crushed the spider. The Sect's powers have been weakened with Latrodect's destruction. They are no longer a threat."

"You sound like your father. What should I tell Skalany? She's bound to ask," Kermit said.

"I'll let my father explain." 'If my father even recovers,' he added silently.

With those words, Peter and Kermit headed back to St. Adele and to his grandfather's cottage. Kermit did not stay long, needing to make the arrangements to take Jordan's body back home. Before leaving, he promised the young Shaolin that he would look after the apartment belonging to Peter and his father. He would also spread the word that they would be returning to Chinatown soon. Kermit watched through a green tinted world, grateful that his shades again hid his emotions. He did not like to see his friend in so much pain. He could see that Peter feared that his father may be too far gone, that the Spider's Venom had done too much damage. Kermit observed that the woman, on the other hand, brought out a curious mix of emotions in Peter. Earlier Peter had pointed out that, even though she looked like his mother, the scars along her hairline suggested something else. They would know as soon as his father and the woman were given the anti-venom and they returned from their forced shadowy world.

Lo Si nodded his head as he added the final ingredient and watched with satisfaction as the amber liquid turned clear. He turned his head to call Matthew aside, only to see that he was still deep in conversation with the police. They spoke in soft whispers and turned their gaze to stare through the doorway at the young woman laying on the cot and at the young Shaolin sitting by the older man laying on the futon. It wasn't long before they were finished and the inspector, along with another officer, left the cottage.

"They are not satisfied with what you told them."

"No Master they are not," Matthew stated. "I did not tell them of my son's involvement or of the young woman's, only that they were prisoners of the man Latrodect."

"It was a wise decision. If they knew that your son had been the one to injure Peter so, they might have taken him in for questioning regardless of his condition."

"They would not have gotten any answer from him if they had." Matthew spied the container in the Ancient's hands. "Is that the anti-venom?"

"Yes. I have neutralized the poison. I only hope it will work on our friends. We must get them to drink it."

"We shall begin with my son. He is the most severe."

Lo Si poured some of the liquid in to a cup and handed it to Peter. The young man lifted his father's head off the pillow and coaxed him to drink. They then repeated the treatment with the young woman.

Within two hours, only the young woman began to stir. Suddenly, she bolted upright in the cot, her eyes wide with fright.

<Where am I? What is this place? Who are you people?>

Because of her rapidly spoken French, Peter allowed Matthew to handle the situation. He instead, went to sit with his father, hoping to see the same progress.

<It is all right. You are safe now. You're husband and son are with you.>

<Son? Husband? I am not married. I have no children. Who are you? Where am I?>

<I am Matthew Caine. You are in my cottage. I am a priest. I will not harm you.>

The frightened woman looked around to see other eyes on her. An old man with a beard sat nearby watching with concern. To her left, she could see a young man sitting beside an older man with short gray hair who was lying down. The young man's face was filled with deep pain.

<Where am I?>

<What is the last thing you remember?>

The young girl turned back to the older man. His eyes were gentle and coaxing. <I remember sitting and having tea at a cafe in Paris. I met a man there. We had gone for a walk along the Seine. I do not remember anything more, except for some very confusing dreams.>

<Was the man named Latrodect?>

<Yes.>

That would explain much, thought Matthew. <What is your name?>

<Marya LePointe>

A flash of memory came back to Matthew. This girl had the same name as the girl who had disappeared 10 years ago, but something was different. He could not put his finger on it. Her eyes were the same, yet something still did not seem right. Then he recalled when Peter had found her at the estate. He had seen something that the old Shaolin had not. What had Peter seen that was obvious to him but not to the old priest?

"Peter?" Matthew called to his grandson.

Marya watched as the young man named Peter approached the old man. Matthew took Peter aside and spoke in quiet whispers, not wanting to alarm the young woman further. Afterward they both came forward. Marya shrunk back, not knowing what was about to happen.

<It is all right. He is my grandson. He will not harm you. He is also a priest. He only wishes to examine you.>

Peter drew a calming breath. Except for the likeness, he had learned from his grandfather that the woman was not his mother after all.

"If you would allow me," he said in English, as gently as possible so as not to frighten her further. He reached up and gently brushed her hair away from the side of her face and back behind her ear.

"See grandfather, small scars. She's had plastic surgery, a lot of it."

"What is plastic surgery?"

"It's done whenever repairs on the face or body are needed due to a serious injury, or if someone wants to improve their looks," Peter paused to draw a deep breath before continuing. "Or, in this case, to completely change them."

Peter rose and turned away from his grandfather and the young woman. Matthew could sense a deep sadness radiating from his grandson as he fought back the tears of disappointment. Those scars had been the final proof. A bewildering look came from the young woman as she tried to understand what had transpired. Though her English was not perfect, she somehow understood that something had been done to change her in some way.

<Tell me, what has happened?> The young woman's gaze fell on the old priest's face then on the younger man's back.

"Peter, she must be told." Matthew rose to place a hand on his grandson's shoulder. "Sooner or later she will discover the truth. It is best to tell her now, so she may have time to adjust."

"You tell her. Pop's going to need me when he comes to." If he comes to, thought Peter. The young Shaolin walked back to his father's bedside, not turning around. Sitting back on the futon, Peter picked up his father's still hand and let the tears of disappointment fall.

'I'm so sorry, Dad. I know how much you wanted to find Mom alive.'

<No!> The woman's sudden scream of discovery and anguish at what had been done to her shook Peter to the core. It was going to be a long night for all of them.

Marya cried bitter tears. The priest called Matthew tried to coax her to take a look at the change that had been done to her. He held out a mirror, but she refused to look, afraid that what had been done was far worse than her own fears. He placed the mirror down on the cot until she was ready to face this fear on her own. He would not force her. Finally spent of all emotion, Marya brought the mirror up to her face, and in that mirror she saw a stranger. The shape of her face, her mouth, her nose, even the color of her hair had been altered. Though her own natural blond showed through at the roots, the face that stared out at her was not her own. Would she even be able to get use to that face? Would her own family even know her? The one thing though she could take comfort in, was that her eyes had remained the same.

Marya LePointe cried out her rage. <How could he have done this to me? He told me he loved me. Why!?!>

Matt