~Modern Crusaders  Book 2~

A Thousand Miles and Even Heroes…

by

Psi Draconis

Mercenaries have attacked the modern-day Realm of Atlantis, and while their invasion was unsuccessful, nobody is foolish enough to believe the danger is gone. Crown Princess Evelynne DeMolay, Heir to the Realm, and her Consort, the Adeptus Major Alleandre Tretiak, have gone into hiding in America - a nation whose relationship with Atlantis has not always been the friendliest. While there, the two women will delve into new relationships and new experiences - and quickly learn that Alleandre’s extraordinary nature can grant her vulnerabilities just as unique as her strengths, flaws that threaten to cast her into the darkness of her own mind… Her nigredo.

Chapter 1

I am Her Royal Highness Princess Evelynne Sophia al-Heru deMolay of Atlantl.

The stranger’s face in the mirror did not look impressed.

She squinted into the reflective surface, clenching her face into an exaggerated grimace, and then relaxed it again, some part of her hoping that the action would somehow morph her features back into their familiar appearance. It didn’t, of course.

Her hands went of their own volition to her neck, absently brushing it, still unused to the coolness there. Her whole head felt strange, she realized, as though a huge weight had been removed. Which it had, she supposed. Fingers long used to brushing lengths of flame-coloured hair behind her ears tried to do the same now and encountered

nothing. Those shoulder-length tresses were gone now, leaving behind a short crop of spiky red hair.

Her fingers did encounter the arms of a pair of square-framed glasses, their lensesactually nothing more than thin pieces of glass, since they were in reality functionally unnecessaryproviding little windows through which blue eyes viewed the world.

It was definitely not the face of someone destined to become the ruler of one of the most powerful nations on the planet.

I am Sophia Temonet Doherty.

The brown-haired woman found her red-haired companion sitting on the tiny balcony, looking out over the lights of the city, and spent a moment just looking at the woman whom she loved deeply. The two weeks since they had arrived had been deceptively quiet, but that had not lessened the stress that both women felt. The events taking place back in the smaller woman’s homelandwhich was also the taller woman’s adoptive onewere the source of the tension, as was the sense of impotence at their inability to affect matters, a sensation that neither found familiar or comfortable. The continued stress had etched premature tension into the smaller woman’s face, despite everything her companion tried to do to eliminate it.

“Are you planning on standing there and staring at me all night, or are you going to come over here and kiss me?” the sitting woman asked, her voice laced with humour.

“Well, as tempting as gazing at you for hours might be, if it’s a choice between that and kissing you

Can I do both?” The tall woman took the two steps required to move to her lover’s side.

“I wish you would,” her companion said, snaking an arm out to draw her down into a passionate kiss. Finally they broke apart. “Hello, Ally, love.”

“Hey, Evy,” Alleandre Tretiak greeted warmly. She carefully lowered herself into her lover’s lap. “How did it go today?”

“Not too terribly,” Evelynne Sophia al-Heru deMolay replied, wrapping her arms around Ally’s waist. “I managed to do a whole two loads of washing all by myself.”

Ally chuckled. “You sound so proud of yourself.”

“Hey, give me a break. I’ve never even had to think about doing my own laundry before. This is a big thing for me,” Evelynne protested.

“I know, and I’m proud of you,” Ally said, dropping an affectionate kiss on her lover’s head. She hesitated. “You did separate the colours, right?”

“Of course I did,” Evelynne said, frowning. “Some things are just common sense. Of course, it helps when the instructions on the detergent specifically tell you to do so. Stop laughing.” She poked Ally in the ribs, turning her chuckles into a familiar involuntary squeak. “How about you? How was your day?”

“Mmm.” Ally shrugged, her tone noncommittal. “I got some leads. Nothing spectacular, but I should be able to bring in enough to at least maintain the illusion that we need to make money. There’s a tutoring service hiring for the college and high schools.”

“I wish I could go and do something,” Evelynne said, voicing some of her own frustration. “I’m going to go insane if I have to stay here all day. Damn it, Ally, I was born to do things, not be a stay-at-home wife!”

“I know, and I’m sorry you have to right now. All I’m asking is that you wait a bit, get used to just being ‘Evelynne’. Or ‘Sophia’. Please?” Ally looked into her lover’s eyes, her gaze entreating. “You’re the most important thing in my life. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

As usual, Evelynne crumbled before the openness of her lover’s face. “I know. It’s frustrating, that’s all. We did all this so that I wouldn’t have to be shut up for months or years. I need to be doing something.”

“I understand. Please, just give it a little longer for us both to get a feel for this place. We’ve only been here two weeks, and we’ve only had this apartment for two days. Please just be patient.”

Evelynne sighed. “All right. But I’m not going to sit around doing nothing forever,” she warned.

“I’d never ask you to,” Ally replied, pleased to have settled her lover for a little while longer. She nuzzled her nose into the short red hair next to her face. “Have I told you how hot your hair looks like this?”

Evelynne reflexively raised her hand to run her fingers through the short locks. “It still feels strange,” she admitted. She smiled wryly. “And yes, you may have mentioned that a time or two. Since when have you had a hair fetish?”

Ally shrugged. “I don’t know. I just have. Which is weird, since neither you nor Annie had short hair when I met either of you. I suppose it shows that I’m drawn to more than just physical looks. Not that having a stunningly beautiful fianc?e is a bad thing.”

“My, you are laying on the charm tonight,” Evelynne said, chuckling. However, for me it’s these that are going to take some getting used to. Her fingers lightly brushed the curve of Ally’s right ear, where no less than six earrings adorned its previously unblemished skin. Her hair had also changed from its familiar short, wavy brown style, and was now a darker hue and straight, giving the impression that it was longer. Is it still sore?

A little, Ally admitted. They ache a bit, and sometimes they catch when I’m putting on a shirt. She closed her eyes and purred as Evelynne caressed her ear. But when you’re doing that I don’t even notice.You can do that all night if you want.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Well, kind of,” Ally admitted, and even in the dark Evelynne could feel her flush. “Is it working?”

“It’s working,” Evelynne admitted. She hesitated. “I’m sorry I haven’t wanted to make love since we left. It’s just that”

“It’s okay, I understand,” Ally interrupted. “You’ve been under a lot of stress. You never have to apologise for not wanting to

well, you know. And while I would always appreciate an explanation of why you might not want to, you never have to explain until you’re ready. Right now I know why, and I’m willing to give you as much time as you need.”

“You’re too good to me,” Evelynne murmured, burying her face in Ally’s throat. She was able to feel her lover’s accelerated pulse beating against the fine hairs on her cheek, and felt even more guilty for denying Ally the intimacy the other woman desiredalthough her much shyer fianc?e would never explicitly admit it. “You’re going to make someone a wonderful wife.” She pressed a light kiss to the hollow of Ally’s throat, pleased when her lover’s breath hitched.

“You, I hope,” Ally said breathlessly.

“Of course me,” Evelynne murmured, beginning to nip at the side of Ally’s neck. “Why, do you have some other options in mind?”

“Not re-really. Although I’m still waiting on Angelina Jolie.”

“Well, she can join us on one condition: that she loves you as much as I do. And that’s a pretty tall order.” Evelynne pulled back slightly and frowned. “Are you levitating?” she asked.

“I didn’t want to squish you,” Ally said.

“Well,” Evelynne said, reaching up to slowly undo the top button of Ally’s shirt, “stop. I am in the mood to be squished.” There was no verbal reply, but the weight in her lap increased suddenly, confirming her suspicions. It’s not as if you weigh enough to crush me anyway, she said much more intimately, her warm, loving thoughts bypassing Ally’s ears entirely as they entered her mind. She moved on to the next button.

“God, Evy,” Ally breathed, almost collapsing into a puddle, before stiffening suddenly and grasping the hand that had been stealing into her shirt. “Not here, okay?” She glanced out into the darkness beyond the balcony, as if expecting to see a news helicopter filming their every move.

“All right,” Evelynne agreed, using her hand to trace circles on Ally’s belly instead. “Would a more private location work for you?” Ally nodded shakily. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Moments later they were inside, leaving the lights of Horton City, Pennsylvania, to themselves.

Vision: The moon shining on clouds, seen from above. A rat in an alley, unaware of the cat about to pounce. A red-haired woman arching beneath the body of another. A man watching a rugby game on television, yelling at the screen. A crab walking across the riverbed, investigating an old tire. The interior of a heart, steadily pumping.

Sound: A train rumbling along the tracks as it continues accelerating. The bark of a dog. The quiet hum of fluorescent lights. A breathless gasp. The scratching of tiny claws over a wood floor. The drip of water into a pool.

Fading like a dream upon waking, as she slowly roseor fellto a different level of consciousness, senses attempting desperately to report to a brain overwhelmed by sensation. Gradually feeling the confusion fade, allowing thought to resurface.

“Claire? Claire, can you hear me?” Sound, a real voice, cut through the cacophony of imagined sensation.

Claire. That’s my name, she realised. She couldn’t remember who exactly was talking, but was reassured that at least it was a real person, and that she could actually spare the mental power to process the thought. In fact, now that she was aware of it, she could tell that one of the montage of images overlapping in her vision was somehow more real than the others, and she concentrated on bringing it more clearly into focus. Slowly it sharpened into a worried face, capped by short blond hair. Behind it other faces were looking down, although they were obscured by the glare of the fluorescent lights on the ceiling.

Finally, the last of the ghost images and sounds slipped away, leaving behind only a vague memory of their existence, like a barely remembered dream, and Claire realised that her body was aching and her head was pounding. It was still an improvement.

“Claire, you all right?” the face, delicate and fair-skinned, asked again.

Claire blinked and groaned and began to sit up, aided by the strong hands on her shoulders. “Yeah, I am, Corey,” she replied hoarsely. She swallowed against a surge of nausea. “Or I will be. Could you get my pills out of my bag?”

“Already got ‘em,” Corey said, holding out a couple of small white tablets. He looked up at one of the onlooking faces. “Could you get her some water?”

“Miss Jones, are you all right?” This time the speaker was an elderly gentleman in a suit who knelt down beside her.

“I will be,” Claire repeated. “Just give me a minute. It’s a condition I have.”

“Epilepsy?” the older man inquired. “Do you need an ambulance?”

“Not quite,” Claire replied. “Really, I’ll be fine.” She looked up and smiled as a young woman returned with a paper cup of water which was hesitantly held out. Claire reached out to take it, suppressing the small surge of hurt with the ease of long practice as the other woman flinched slightly as their hands met. “Thanks.”

The young woman who had passed it over gave a slightly uncomfortable smile, as though apologising for her reaction. The show apparently over, the small crowd dispersed.

“Well, if you’re sure you’ll be fine

” The older man looked at Claire carefully, questioning. “Then will I be seeing you in class tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there,” Claire promised. “Thanks, Doctor Schmidt. I’ll just sit here with Corey for a while.”

“Very well,” the professor said. He patted her on the shoulder. “Take care.” Even though another professor might have offered more assistance, neither Claire nor Corey was offended by the older man’s absent-minded attitude. They both had an advanced math course with him, and were fully aware that he related much more readily to numbers and theorems than to mere human beings.

Dr. Schmidt walked away, leaving Claire and her friend to lean back against the wall, ignoring the curious glances of other students passing by. Thankfully, there weren’t many, only those who were also taking advantage of the small college’s night school. Claire leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, pleased beyond words that her mind was once more quiet and calm, even if the headache hadn’t abated.

“You sure you’re okay, Claire?” Corey asked. “That looked like a bad one.”

“Well, it sure wasn’t a walk in the park,” his companion snapped, and instantly regretted her sharp tone. “Sorry. I just have a headache like you wouldn’t believe.” She ran her fingers into her long black hair and began a massage of her scalp that brought mild relief.

“Oh, I believe it,” Corey replied, taking the opportunity to look at his friend more closely.

Claire’s long, ruler-straight hair normally fell past her shoulder blades, and currently hung in slight disarray over her face, concealing the strong cheekbones and round eyes that bespoke an ancestry that could be traced back to Africa. The thing that caused most people to take a second look was the fact that, rather than the dark skin that most expected, Claire’s skin was a patchwork of the expected milk-chocolate colour and an equal amount of nearly pure ivory, creating random patterns that covered her body like a zebra’s coat. When Claire shook the hair, also sporting a blend of near-black and gleaming white, back from her face again, Corey could see her eyes, equally mismatched, one a dark brown, and the other an incredibly pale blue, bearing a pink tinge that was characteristic of albinism. The pale left eye was set in the midst of a section of white skin that covered an irregular area of nearly half her face, and the skin beneath it was stained by a deep blue bruise that corresponded to the nearly black one under the other eye. Such bruises were common after one of Claire’s attacks.

“Okay, I’m up,” Claire said after a few more minutes of rest, and Corey leapt to his feet to help his still-shaky companion to stand.

Keeping a firm grip on Claire’s arm, Corey guided them both towards the exit to the college building. “You should really think about taking tomorrow off,” he said. “Call in sick.”

Claire winced. “I wish. I just can’t afford it. Utilities are due at the end of the month, and at the moment I can just barely afford to pay for them, assuming I don’t eat for two weeks. And no, I won’t let you pay for both halves again. You need to eat, too. And I know what you’re saving for.”

Corey had no response to that. “Well, we’ll get by somehow.”

Ally awoke with a start and spent several moments blinking in confusion. She normally woke very quickly, moving from sleep to full wakefulness without a pause when the need arose. However, Evelynne had been particularly amorous the night before, and had seemed determined to make up for the previous two weeks of abstinence. The result was a thoroughly sated, mildly aching, and completely exhausted pair of women.

That exhaustion was what was making Ally’s thoughts come so slowly, and it took her a moment to identify the sound that had awoken her. The knockingpounding, reallyat the front door of the apartment echoed through the bedroom, even muffled by the closed bedroom door, and Ally reflexively threw back the blankets and sat up, peeling Evelynne’s arm away from her waist. Her lover made an incoherent sound of protest and raised her face from where it had been pressed against Ally’s back to blink up blearily at the woman sitting on the edge of the bed.

“O’che?” she queried fuzzily. “What

?”

“Someone at the door,” Ally said, reaching for her glasses on the nightstand. “Stay here. Go back to sleep.”

“With that?” Evelynne asked, her voice muffled by the pillow she was burying her face into. She stiffened suddenly as a thought occurred to her. “Is it trouble?”

Ally strove to make her sleep-deprived brain function fully, extending her perceptions outward towards the presence at the door. This particular talent had never been one of her strongest, and was even less effective now, but she was able to get a vague impression of the mind outside their apartment. The primary emotion was annoyance and frustration, verging on anger, but without any kind of homicidal impulse or real threat. The fragile thread snapped before any more impressions could be read, but it was enough to reassure Ally somewhat. “I don’t think so.” She winced as the pounding reached a new level. “Stay here,” she repeated.

Standing, she wrapped a thick terrycloth robe around herself, wincing at the chill air that permeated the apartment. It was early summer, but the region was experiencing an unpredictable cold front. The more normal warm weather that they had been enjoying the previous evening had obviously passed, and even if it wasn’t like the depths of winter, it was still enough to chill the floors uncomfortably. Didn’t notice last night, though, Ally thought, blushing slightly at the memory. She quickly passed through the small living roomminuscule in comparison to the rooms Evelynne had been used to living in, though of average size by anyone else’s measurementnoting its bareness and making a mental note to find some decorations somewhere.

“Damn it, Roger, you’d better not be hung-over again!” A loud, angry and obviously female voice could be clearly heard through the front door now. “I told you, one more time and you’re fired!”

Ally took a moment to peek through the peephole in the door, confirming that there was in fact a woman on the other side of it. The image was too distorted to determine details, but there was nothing about her that seemed particularly threatening. Satisfied that there was no immediate threat, Ally cracked open the door and peeked out. “Um

hello?”

The woman stopped her arm in mid-knock and frowned, her expression moving from annoyed, to confused, to disgusted in the space of a few breaths, giving Ally a chance to get a better look at her. She was of medium height and build, probably in her early or mid-thirties, and her dark complexion was complemented by her jaw-length black hair. When she spoke her voice betrayed an accent that did not seem typical of the region. “Oh, great. Who are you, one of Roger’s latest girlfriends? No, never mind, I don’t care. Is he awake, or is he still stoned out of his pitiful excuse for a mind? Either way, you can go and tell him that he’s fired.”

“I don’t know any Roger,” Ally said, finally able to get a word in. She opened the door a little further. “Or at least none from around here. WeI just moved in here a couple of days ago. Do you have the right apartment?”

The woman’s eyebrows rose. “He’s gone?” she asked, ignoring the question. “Well, shit.” She rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. “You say you moved in a couple of days ago?” Ally nodded hesitantly. “Damn it, he’s gone then. Without a word or anything.” The woman sighed. “You new to the city?”

“Yeah

“

“I don’t suppose you happen to be or know a decent bartender or waitress, do you? One that can start on really short notice?”

“Uh, no. Not really.”

“Damn. Worth a shot.” The woman fished in a pocket and came up with a colourful business card, which she handed over to Ally. “Listen, I’m Narmin. That’s my place.” She indicated the card. Come around some time and have dinner on the house. My way of apologising for waking you up. Or not.” Narmin looked more closely at Ally’s neck, and then glanced beyond her. “Nice work,” she commented.

Ally’s head whipped around to see Evelynne standing hesitantly near the door to the bedroom, also wrapped in a dark blue robe.

“Pardon?” Evelynne asked.

“The neck,” Narmin explained. “It’s impressive.” Ally’s hand shot up to belatedly cover the large red patch on the side of her neck. Narmin’s eyes looked up and down her body. “I can see where the inspiration comes from, though.” Reaching Ally’s flaming red face, her expression instantly turned apologetic. “Oh hey, I’m sorry. I really seem to be putting my foot in it today. Come on round and I’ll throw in a round of drinks with your meal.” Suddenly a beeping sound filled the air and Narmin looked down at a small pager clipped to her belt. “Damn, gotta go. Sorry again for disturbing you. Please, go back to

whatever it was you were doing.” With that, she was off, powering down the hall at a brisk pace.

Ally slowly closed the door and turned to her lover, the business card still in her hand and a slightly stunned expression on her face. “Well, that was interesting,” she said bemusedly. She glanced down at the card, noting the title “Narmin Baihum, Manager” under the name of the establishment. “‘The Sixth Age Bar and Restaurant’. Well, I suppose we have a free meal at least.”

Evelynne walked closer, rubbing at her eyes. “I suppose,” she agreed. She squinted at the clock near the door and groaned. “It’s way too early.” She buried her face in Ally’s shoulder.

Ally looked at the same clock and frowned sceptically. “Love, it’s almost eight-thirty.”

“So? If I recall correctly, you kept me up until three last night”

“I kept you up?” Ally interjected incredulously.

“and then again at four-thirty and six,” Evelynne continued as if her lover hadn’t spoken. “So yes, this is way too early.”

“So, what? You want to go back to bed?”

“Well, if you insist,” Evelynne replied, her voice bland as she turned and began to walk back in the direction of the bedroom. “Really, Ally, you’re quite insatiable.” The grin now hidden from Ally’s sight was at odds with the mildly chastising tone of her voice. “You really should see someone about that.” Her voice faded as the disappeared through the door, leaving Ally standing in the middle of the bare living room, her eyebrows threatening to merge with her hairline.

“Oh, I intend to,” Ally muttered as she belatedly followed her lover. “Right now.”

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Evelynne said as they lay in bed the next evening. She hesitated.

“Yeah? You know you can talk to me about anything.” Ally was holding her fianc?e in her arms, lazily running her fingers across Evelynne’s bare back, just enjoying their mutual closeness.

The day had been particularly stressful, with Ally being unexpectedly called in for an interview with a tutoring service, which had left Evelynne once again alone in their apartment with only minimal and trivial tasks to keep her occupied. Evelynne’s snappish temper when her lover had arrived home had taken Ally largely by surprise, especially since Evelynne had somehow managed to restrict the mental Link between them. It had caused Ally to snap back a few sharp comments of her own, something that always made her feel worse than when someone else was doing the striking out. The expression on Ally’s face when she realised what she was doing had been enough to make Evelynne break down and drive her back into her fianc?e’s loving and forgiving embrace. They had spent the remainder of the evening just sitting and relaxing, watching a particularly dumb movie on television, and eventually making love slowly after that, until hunger had finally forced them to fix a late dinner before retiring early to the bedroom.

Evelynne’s voice pulled Ally out of her introspection. “Well, you remember that woman who came by yesterday morning? The restaurant owner?”

“Of course,” Ally replied. “Vividly.” Her voice was amused as her eidetic memory replayed the encounter like a video behind her eyes.

“Well, I was thinking that we know she’s looking for someone to take this Roger’s place, and

” She hesitated, uncertain.

Ally frowned. “You think I should try to go for the job? I don’t know, love. I’ve never done any waitressing or anything like that, and you know I’m really not comfortable around people.”

“Oh, I know,” Evelynne said quickly. “Actually, though, I was thinking that maybe I should try for it.”

“What?”

“Well, I have had some training in that area; most of the Atlantlan Nobility takes lessons in serving as part of our etiquette training. And it is a really low-key position. And it would give me a chance to talk to other people.”

Ally’s first instinct was to refuse outright, but several things stopped her. The first was that she knew that her partner was an emotional equal in this relationship and was entitled to her own opinions and desires. She also knew that Evelynne had truly been under huge amounts of stress since their flight from Atlantl, and that she was seeking an outletany outletfor release, as the evening’s previous encounter had proven. Neither of them dealt with lack of control very well, particularly Evelynne, who was used to making decisions and dealing with issues that affected whole Counties, if not an entire nation.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Ally asked, and while her tone was slightly doubtful, the question at least showed that she was willing to be persuaded. “I mean, what if someone sees you and recognises you?”

Evelynne propped herself up on an elbow to look down at her lover. “Recognise me? Who are they going to recognise? The last place anyone is going to expect to find me is working as a waitress in a bar in Pennsylvania. Please. Everyone knows I’m actually hiding out somewhere in Europe, probably amongst the rich and famous in Monaco somewhere. And if I happen to have some resemblance to the Heir to Atlantl, so what?” She shrugged one shoulder.

“The Clark Kent Technique,’” Ally murmured. You even have the glasses already.

“Pardon?”

“I meant like how Superman managed to hide as Clark Kent in plain sight.”

“Oh, I see. You know, I was never really convinced that nobody recognised him just because he wore glasses.”

“It wasn’t just the glasses; it was the whole attitude, tone of voice, body posture

There was this awesome scene in the first movie where Christopher Reeve almost literally changes his whole personality in the space of about two seconds. One moment he’s Clark Kent, then he’s suddenly Superman, then he’s Clark Kent again. All without even taking off the glasses.” Ally pulled herself back from where they had moved off topic. “Do you think you could do something like that?”

“I already do,” Evelynne replied. “The only part of me that the rest of the world really knows is how I behave when I’m in the public eye. You know: public appearances, speeches, and such. Hardly anyone realises what I’m really like when I’m just being me.”

“I do.”

“I know.” Evelynne smiled and kissed Ally briefly. “But I think it’s safe to say that you’re the only one around here who does.”

Ally looked up at her lover seriously. “Do you really want to do this?”

Evelynne nodded. “I do. Although who knows whether I’ll actually enjoy it? I might not be able to handle people giving me orders.”

“May IDo you want me to come with you?” Ally asked, and Evelynne smiled, knowing that her partner had just capitulated.

“I would,” she replied. “I’m actually a little nervous. All right, a lot nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Ally smiled back and reached up to pull Evelynne’s lips to hers. “Welcome to my world now,” she murmured.

“Those memos you requested, Your Majesty,” the colourfully liveried servant said, discreetly interrupting the intense but not urgent discussion King Jad was having with his Agriculture Advisor.

“Ah, thank you, Meghan,” the King said. “You know Doctor Carrerras, of course.”

“Of course. Doctor Carrerras,” Meghan greeted politely.

“Hello, Meghan,” Miguel Carrerras said, smiling. “How are you doing?”

“I am well, sir, thank you,” the servant replied. “I have just received a message from my niece and her husband. They have just bought a house.”

The words were innocuous enough, but they were enough to force the King to carefully maintain his facial expression, even as the Advisor expressed his congratulations. He made himself look through the papers Meghan had just delivered, and then raised his head. “Well, I’m afraid I must cut this short, Miguel. There are some things here that I must take care of.”

“Certainly, Your Majesty,” Carrerras said, rising to his feet.

Once the Advisor had left, the King turned to his servant. “So, what does she say?” he asked, his tone softer and much more vulnerable than most people who knew him would have thought possible.

“She is well, Your Majesty,” Meghan said. “She and her partner are both safe and healthy. There have been no signs of their continued

health problems.” She paused. “She asked me to send her love to her father, seeing as he refuses to use email.”

The King smiled wryly and a little sadly. “He’s eccentric that way.”

When Princess Evelynne and her fianc?e Alleandre had been making plans to go into hiding almost three weeks previously, one of the problems had been maintaining some form of secure communication with their families. Under “normal” circumstances, using Guard assets to create a direct link would have been little problem, but recent events, culminating in the attempted coup and near assassination of the Royal Family, had shown that not even the most “secure” Guard methods could be trusted.

It had been Sir Adun, the Master of the King’s Guard, who had created the current arrangement. With all Guard resources considered compromised, that had left exclusively non-Guard resources, and he had suggested using a willing civilian agent, one who had no ties to any official government agency, as an intermediary. After an exhaustive consideration processincluding a number of interviews by Sir Arthur Ramirez, the princess’ bodyguard, using his own special talentsMeghan Doherty, a skilled but undistinguished member of the Palace’s cadre of servants, had been approached and recruited. She was a rather plain, quiet woman in her early fifties, and had the advantages of having regular access to the King in the course of her duties, and, perhaps most importantly, she had absolutely no ties to any of the Kingdom’s security forces. And so she had suddenly gained a “niece” and “nephew”, who had recently moved to the United States, and who kept their “family” apprised of their activities via innocuous, unassuming emails sent through a generic web-based account. And given the King’s well-known habit of being personally interested in the family lives of those who served him, it was completely understandable that she would pass on this news to the King.

“Well, I’m sure he sends his love back to them in any case,” the King continued. He must worry about them.

“I know he does, Your Majesty,” Meghan replied with some sympathy.

Even here, in the King’s private office, they were careful to avoid mentioning names. While the true extent to which the Guard and other official agencies had been compromised remained under investigation, what had already been discovered was frightening enough, and King Jad refused to take the slightest chance that some kind of listening or recording device had been placed in his office. Especially when the people most at risk were his daughterand Heir to his Throneand his future daughter-in-law.

“Well, let them know that I hope they remain hale and hearty,” the King said, his tone becoming more businesslike as he began to read through the papers on his desk in earnest. Even this kind of comment was not unusual for the King, and was one reason why those who served him tended to be so fanatically loyal.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Meghan said, her own attitude becoming formal once again. “Was there anything else?”

“Could you ask Mohammed to get Regent Sindarim on the phone? We’ve been playing

What’s the term? Tag telephone? Telephone tag, that’s it. We’ve been playing telephone tag for the last two days. Oh, and could you ask him to get the latest reports from my Economic Advisor on the fallout on our exports since the Invasion?”

And so the repairing of a nation continued.

Chapter 2

“Well, I think this is it,” Ally said, looking up at the sign above the door, then down to the card in her hand. Both sported an image of an eye set in an eight-pointed star, and both bore the name “The Sixth Age Bar and Restaurant”. The tall woman looked down at her redheaded companion. “You still sure you want to do this?”

Evelynne was looking at the same storefront with a mixture of apprehension, curiosity, and determination, and absently pushed her glasses higher on her nose. It was the same look that she had borne when she had left their apartment to get into a caba plain, ordinary, slightly smelly cabfor the first time just before arriving here. Ally had carefully controlled her amused smile then, and did so again now.

The restaurant looked like a decent enough place, its red brick fa?ade fronted by shrubs and small trees in planters. The large windows were darkened, making it difficult to see inside, and a short set of steps led down to the slightly recessed wooden door.

“I’m sure,” Evelynne replied, firmly suppressing her nervousness. “If I get the job, great, if not, well

” She shrugged, then quirked a wry smile. “Job. I’m applying for a job. That sounds so strange.”

“Only to you, love,” Ally said, smiling as well. “Not everyone is born with their future employment waiting for them.”

“True. Well, let’s go for it. You have a job of your own to start in a couple of hours.” With that Evelynne walked down the few steps and, with every appearance of confidence, opened the door and stepped inside.

The interior of the restaurant was eclectic. It was dimly lit, the wooden panelling around the walls lending a warm, comforting darkness. The lighting came from an impressive collection of lamps, no two alike, ranging from a green neon sign to a red glowing lava lamp. Candles on the tables added warmth to the surroundings. The artwork was equally impressive, abstract paintings competing with such classics as a print of The Birth of Venus, and a collection of sculpture that was just as diverse. Several potted plants kept the organic feeling alive. Over the sound system Gregorian chanting could be heard above the low murmur of diners. It was past the normal lunch hour, but there were still a fair number present. The bar area of the restaurant was situated at the back and was slightly raised. There was a small dance floor, along with the obligatory pool table and dart board.

Evelynne snuck a glance at her lover, and was unsurprised to see a small, delighted grin on Ally’s face. She knew that this kind of eclectic ambiance appealed to her partner, who was, under it all, just as diverse.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Ally murmured. “I want a job here.” It wasn’t a completely true statement, and they both knew it. Ally tended to be able to handle strangers only in small doses, and for short periods of time. Serving people day after day would grind her down in no time.

“Well, you could always perform as a resident magic act,” Evelynne joked, waving at the small stage just off the dance floor. She peered at a piece of equipment on the stage. “What is that?”

Ally squinted through the dim light, still unused to the contact lenses that had replaced her glasses. “Karaoke machine, I think,” she suggested.

“Oh. Maybe we should keep you away from it, huh?” Ally took her lover’s teasing with ease, not to mention total agreement. She would be the first to admit that she would never win any awards for musical ability.

They had been standing and looking around for long enough that a tall, muscular woman in an apron stepped towards them, snagging a couple of menus as she did so. “Hi,” she said, nodding her head slightly, causing the long blonde braid trailing down her back to sway. “Two?”

“Two what?” Evelynne asked.

“Actually, we were hoping to talk to the manager,” Ally said to the waitress. “Ms Baihum? Is she around?”

“Not right now,” the waitress replied. “She had to step out for a little while, but she aught to be back soon. Do you mind waiting? She shouldn’t be more than” She looked at her watch. “about a half hour.”

“That would be fine,” Evelynne said. “Perhaps we could have lunch while we wait?”

“Sure thing, this way,” the server said, leading the way into the restaurant.

Ally let Evelynne precede her, a small smile on her face as she did so, but also a degree of concern. This could be a problem, she thought, thinking of the erstwhile princess’ response to their server’s original question. She’s never had to live in this kind of world before. She’s never had to wait for someone to seat her. There are a lot of things that she simply hasn’t been exposed to. Similar concerns had troubled the young woman ever since Evelynne had explained what she wanted to dosince before that, in fact. The fact that they were now living in a society that Evelynne, as Royalty, had never been immersed in, and one very different from her home culture at that, was sure to cause some problems down the road. Ally could only hope that they would be able to use the fact of Evelynne’s foreign origins to explain away any faux pas she might make. Still, Ally was aware that her partner was intelligent enough to learn quickly, and Evelynne was also lacking the arrogant superiority that marked many other members of the aristocracy. That she was willing to take on a role as a server proved it. And she was right. The last place anyone will look for her is as a waitress in a restaurant in the States. That didn’t completely stop Ally from worrying, however.

Arriving at a table along the wall, their waitress, who introduced herself as Jean, left them with the menus and a smile.

Evelynne picked up hers almost hesitantly. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve had to order something from an actual menu?” she commented.

Ally’s brows rose. “Really?”

“I think so. I’ve been to restaurants before, but they were all as part of some official event, and the choice of food was made well in advance. I think the last time I was in a restaurant was a few years ago when I went with za to meet the Greek president.”

“Mmm, Greek food,” Ally hummed. “Now that you mention it, I suppose this has to count as our first actual official date.”

Evelynne looked up from where she had been perusing the menu in surprise. “You know, you’re right,” she said. “We’ve been together for a while, but we’ve never really dated.” Ally was looking at her with a shy, pleased smile. “We’ll have to do this more often.” She paused. “What do people do on dates, anyway?”

“Well, there are all the old classics,” Ally replied. “Movies, dinner, dancing. Then you can expand to concerts, museum trips, stuff like that. There are probably whole boatloads of things that I’ve never considered. I never was much into the dating scene.”

“You and Annie didn’t go out much?” Evelynne was well aware of how grateful she was that they could talk about Ally’s previous relationship so calmly, and that she could ask these questions with only a twinge of jealousy.

“Not a lot,” Ally admitted. “We went out for dinner occasionally, but we were both starving students, so that wasn’t too often. I went to see most of her dance recitals, of course, and she could get us into a lot of other related events for free. Neither of us were big drinkers, and I passionately hated the bar scene, although she liked going once in a while. Most of the time we just made dinner for each other and relaxed at home.”

“That sounds great, actually,” Evelynne said. “Among the Nobility, dates tend to be much more formal affairs. Balls, concerts, that kind of thing. All planned and choreographed well beforehand in fine detail.”

Ally’s reply was interrupted by Jean’s return bearing an order pad. “Hi, have you decided?”

Evelynne hastily turned back to her menu. “I’ll have the chicken quesadilla,” she said. “And an apple juice. Thank you.” She snuck a glance at her partner, just to see if she was doing it right. She hadn’t been joking about never having ordered at a restaurant before. Fortunately, Ally wasn’t looking at her like she’d grown a third arm, so she assumed she was doing all right.

“Sure. And you?” their server asked Ally.

“The chicken souvlaki roll, please. With the Caesar salad and an apple juice as well, thanks.”

Jean murmured under her breath as she wrote down their order. “Okay, that’ll be a few minutes,” she said, scooping up their menus.

“I love the d?cor,” Evelynne said as the server did so.

“Thanks,” Jean replied, smiling. “That’s Narmin’s thing. Every time she hires someone new they have to bring in some piece of art or something that they like. That’s mine over there.” She pointed to a large framed poster of a Harley-Davidson motorcycle.

“The manager, that’s Narmin, right?” Evelynne asked. “We met her briefly the other morning.”

“That’s her,” Jean confirmed, then looked thoughtful. “You’re the couple who are staying in Roger’s old place, aren’t you?” Her eyes twinkled. “You made quite the impression, let me tell you.”

“That’s us,” Ally said, blushing hotly. “She gave us her card and told us to ask for her. I’m Allison, by the way, and this is Sophia.”

“Good to meet ya,” Jean said. “Well, I’ll just go and get this ready for you.” With a final friendly grin, she turned and began to make her way through the tables to the kitchen.

Once she was out of earshot, Ally murmured in a low voice, “I’m still not used to using those names.”

“You? At least you’re still ‘Ally’,” Evelynne said.

Realising that getting people to accept that a lesbian couple, one Atlantlan and one Canadian, with red and brown hair respectively, who happened to bear a certain resemblance to another well-known pair, and whose names were Evelynne and Alleandre would be stretching the bounds of credibility, the couple had agreed on pseudonyms to use while in public. Alleandre was now “Allison”, which had the advantage that when Evelynne called her partner “Ally” nobody would think twice about it. Evelynne had considered using “Eve” for similar reasons but had decided that it was just too similar to her real name. Instead, she had gone with her second given name, becoming “Sophia”. Splendidly official-looking documents confirmed their new identities as Allison Parks and Sophia Doherty.

“I know,” Ally said, reaching across to take her fianc?e’s hand. “I just hope I don’t screw up with your name.”

“You won’t,” Evelynne reassured her. The princess looked down at their clasped hands and then around the restaurant somewhat worriedly. “Is this all right? Us holding hands? Narmin didn’t seem to be upset that we were together when she saw us the other evening.” Ally blushed predictably at the memory. “But I don’t know how normal people react to people like us.” She shrugged sheepishly. “I hardly even knew how the Atlantlan Nobility would react to us, let alone everyone else.”

“Well, in some circumstances we probably shouldn’t be so affectionate,” Ally said, shrugging. “Sad, but true. Right here, though

” She trailed off and looked around the restaurant. None of the other diners appeared to have taken the least notice of their closeness. At a table near the front window a pair of gentlemen dressed in business suits were eating and talking together, and even Ally, who was not particularly skilled socially, could tell that they were more than mere business partners. “See them over there?” She subtly nodded in their direction.

“Yes? WhatOh,” Evelynne said, as one of the men briefly brushed his companion’s hand in an affectionate gesture. “I see. All right.” She looked at them a moment longer. “Are we like that?” Ally cleared her throat and looked pointedly at their own entangled fingers, pleased when this time it was Evelynne who blushed. “Oh. Right. Never mind.”

“Well, to get back to your original question, I don’t think we’ll have any problem here, at least as long as we refrain from making out on the table.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself,” Evelynne said wryly, smirking.

“As for other places, we can just go on a case by case basis.”

“Right. No kissing inWhat do they call them? Redneck bars?”

“Exactly,” Ally said. “Although you’d be surprised at a few of the places you can find in Alberta.”

They continued chatting idly until their food arrived, then dug in with gusto once they realised just how good it was.

As they were eating, Jean came back to their table. “Narmin just got back,” she said. “She’ll be out in a few minutes if you still want to talk to her.”

“That would be great,” Ally said, and the server smiled and turned away. “So, you ready?” she asked.

“I think so,” Evelynne replied. “Although I’m really nervous.” She felt that this was some kind of acid test that would determine whether she would, in fact, be able to fit in the “outside” world.

“Relax,” Ally said, squeezing her hand. “Just be yourself. You know, the Clark Kent version. Which actually is the real you in any case. You’re gorgeous and charming enough that I wouldn’t be surprised if you got the Manager position right off.” It was an exaggeration, but it got Evelynne to flush, as well as relax slightly.

“Flatterer,” Evelynne muttered, though her tone was pleased. She looked up to see the form of her possible future employer heading their way.

“Hi there,” Narmin said once she reached their table. “Please, don’t get up.” She waved at them to remain seated. “I know you, don’t I? Oh yes, that’s right, the other morning, right? I remember

” She gestured vaguely in the direction of Ally’s neck. The other woman blushed as one of her own hands flew up as if to shield it from further scrutiny. “And yes, once again I put my foot in it.” The manager drew a deep breath. “So I’ll shut up now. I hope you enjoyed your lunch?”

“Very much so,” Evelynne replied. “It was fantastic. Please, sit down if you’ve got the time.” She was amused to find that the older woman seemed possessed of just as much energy as she remembered from before.

“Of course I’ve got time,” Narmin said, pulling up a nearby chair. “At least for a while, anyway. By the way, I never got your names.”

“Sophia Doherty,” Evelynne said without hesitation, holding out her hand. “And this is my partner, Allison.”

“Well, pleased to meet you. Properly, this time.” Narmin paused. “You look familiar, somehow.” She squinted at Evelynne’s face, her head cocked slightly to the side.

Evelynne affected a sigh. “I get that a lot,” she said. “Apparently people think I look like Princess Evelynne of Atlantl.” She was aware of Ally looking at her with a concealed expression of anxiety. They hadn’t discussed this particular tactic, which Evelynne had thought up only a short time before. Relax, love, she said. This is just the pinnacle of hiding in plain sight. Draw their attention to what you want to hide, then dismiss it as irrelevant, and they never think of it again. It’s a common practice in politics. “I don’t see it, personally. But then my great-great-grandfather was cousin to Queen Irene al-Heru, so I suppose we are related somehow.” And that’s the literal truth, also. No need to mention that he actually succeeded her when she died.

“That would be it,” Narmin said, nodding. “Although I think she’s taller. Are you from Atlantis also?”

“Yes, I am,” Evelynne replied.

“So you must have been so happy when your princess proposed to that woman, huh? What was her name? Alexandria?”

“Alleandre,” Ally corrected, self-consciously.

“Right, that’s it. We happened to be tuned into CNN that morning, so we caught it I guess just after she announced it.” Narmin pointed to a television mounted behind the bar. “We had a party in here that night, I’ll tell you. Someone happened to tape it, and we kept watching it on repeat. And then the next morning when all those nobles came out

Wow. And they ratified her decision. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”

Both Ally and Evelynne were carefully controlling their reactions. This was the first time they had discussed the events of those days with someone who wasn’t somehow involved, which had the effect of making this situation rather surreal.

“We were really proud of her, yes,” Evelynne said. “Of course, you’ve seen Dame Alleandre. How could Her Highness have resisted?” She managed a surreptitious glance and half-wink at Ally, whose blush deepened considerably.

“No kidding. Here’s to hoping it sets a precedent.” Now Narmin’s face turned serious. “But what came after

Oh man, I’m so sorry about what happened. Were you there when that attack went down? Did you lose anyone you knew over there?”

“Two of my cousins were in Jamaz when it happened,” Evelynne replied, her voice and face heavy with pain. “They got caught up in it, along with a lot of my friends.”

Ally’s hand was warm and supportive in hers, since her partner was the only other person present who also knew that her cousins had been Lord Argyle and Lady Reylinn, the second and third in line for the Thrones as well. It was their deaths, leaving Evelynne as sole Heir, that had prompted their flight and concealment. Many of the others who had been killed had been members of the Hall of Nobles, and even if not all of them had been friends, the princess had at least respected the vast majority. Beyond that there was the fact that Evelynne already saw Atlantl and its inhabitants as “hers” in a sense, which made any of the deaths a personal blow.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Narmin said, and her honest sympathy was obvious. “Was it really Americans who did it? Attacked, I mean?”

“From what I know, yes,” Evelynne said, a tinge of anger entering her tone. “Some others, but mostly Americans.”

“I heard it was a bunch of whacked-out survivalist and cultist types.”

“Many of them, yes. Also mercenaries and ex-military. The government’s putting a lot of pressure on your President to do some serious investigating.”

That was putting it mildly. While the American administration was seeking to put across the image that it had been a handful of possibly unstable paramilitary “whacked-out survivalists” who had orchestrated and carried out the terrorist attack on the Atlantlan government, the fact that close to ten thousand had participated was seriously weakening that position. Analysts on all sides of the issue knew that an operation this complex had to have some kind of highly-placed help. The Atlantlan government was undertaking an internal investigation that was only barely stopping short of thumb-screws and hot pokers in an effort to find those responsible in their own hierarchy, and were pulling out all the stops to get other governments to do the same.

As it was, the Atlantlan government was already heightening all customs inspections on shipping through their waters, and because that included all ships entering or exiting the Mediterranean Sea through the Straits of Gibraltar it corresponded to an overwhelming amount of strong-arm influence. No country’s trade could afford to have its ships become the focus of more intense scrutiny, and hence even longer delays and loss of revenue, or, even worse, have them cut off from the ports of the Mediterranean should Atlantl decide to ban their traffic. So far that had not happened, but any rational government knew better than to tempt that fate, and that the easiest way to avoid it was to do some serious housekeeping.

Unfortunately, the current American administration was not the most rational, and was dragging its feet, loudly proclaiming their innocence and unwillingness to be bullied to all who would listen. And America also had enough influence and military strength to make even the Atlantlans wary about pushing too hard, lest they begin using military assets to escort cargo ships through Atlantlan waters, thereby upping the tension to a truly frightening degree.

Ally and Evelynne had discussed all this often over the two weeks since they had left Atlantl, and it quickly ran through their heads again as everyone spent a moment in contemplation.

“Well, I hope the President does get off his ass and do something,” Narmin said earnestly. “I mean, if there are terrorist groups in the States that they can go and attack another country, there are certainly enough to attack someone in our own country, if we want to take a selfish view. Still, the Secretary of State’s pushing for it. He kind of put himself out there by thanking your people for protecting him.”

“True,” Evelynne said. “It remains to be seen whether he’s let off his leash enough to do anything more.”

“Well, here’s hoping.” Changing the subject, the manager said, “As fascinating as this is, I get the feeling you didn’t come around to talk international politics with me.” She lifted an eyebrow in question.

“Well no, actually,” Evelynne said, as Ally sat back and let her take charge. As much as the she wanted to protect and help her lover, she also knew that the erstwhile princess would not appreciate, and might even resent, too much interference. “We’reI’m actually here because you said you need a server on pretty short notice, and I wanted to talk to you about filling the position.”

Narmin looked surprised but interested. “You don’t say? Well, before we go any further, first I’d just like to make sure you have a Green Card. Not that it’s a dealbreaker if you don’t, but it would make my life a lot easier.”

“I do,” Evelynne replied. Of course, the Green Cards that they both had were about as real as the rest of their “official” identification. Ally was actually a Canadian citizen, a fact that had carried over onto her false papers, leaving her with false documentation that actually told the truth

up to a point.

“Excellent,” Narmin said, pleased. “So what sort of experience have you had? Waitressing, bartending?”

“No bartending,” Evelynne admitted. “I’ve done

Well, in Atlantl we call it ‘hosting’. Sort of like a maitre d’. And I spent a few months as a Page in the Court of Duke Thomas of Avalon, serving meals and the like.”

“Really?” Narmin looked impressed. “I don’t suppose you have a r?sum? showing all of this, do you?”

“Sorry, no,” Evelynne apologised. “WeThey don’t really give out certificates for that kind of thing.”

“Well, even without one I’m leaning towards giving you the job. You can’t be any worse that Roger was. And with the college closing for the summer, most of the students are heading off to wherever they call home, leaving the employee pickings pretty slim around here. That’s where I was just now,” the manager explained. “Unfortunatelyor fortunately, I guessthere are enough employers around that young people have their pick of jobs, at least in the service industry. So I suppose I should be grateful you dropped into my lap. Plus, this isn’t the most open town in America, which means that a lot of people aren’t happy working in an openly gay-friendly place like mine. I’m assuming that isn’t the case with you.”

Ally and Evelynne exchanged a look, and Ally blushed. “Certainly not,” Evelynne murmured.

“Well then, Sophia, as long as you can stand having a third of our staff and half our clientele flirt with you, I’d say you’ve got the job. I suppose I should ask your partner whether she’s okay with having a third our staff and half our clientele flirt with you, also.” Narmin cocked an eyebrow in Ally’s direction.

Evelynne listened curiously while Ally answered. While Evelynne knew that her fianc?e had been displeased, and even resentful, at the attention others had shown her in the past, that had been while their relationship was still very much a secret. Now though, the circumstances were very different, and she knew that Ally was confident of her devotion. Still, she was curious as to exactly how Ally felt about the possible attention that would be shown.

Ally blushed again. “Flirting’s okay,” she said. She looked appreciatively at her lover’s gorgeous features. “I mean, trying to stop them is pretty much a hopeless task. Anything more than that and, well, I’d just have to take them out.”

Both Evelynne and Narmin chuckled at that, the manager at the thought of this unassuming, albeit tall, young woman taking on some of the more butch elements of her clientele. Evelynne laughed to hide her knowledge of just how easily Ally would be able to deal with anyone who got in her way.

“You’re kidding,” Claire said, looking across the tiny living room at her friend sitting in the room’s single rickety armchair. The chair’s occupant didn’t look up from where he was sitting with his head cradled in his hands. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Corey said in a dull voice, still looking at the floor. “I knew I shouldn’t have been so goddamned honest. But the form said to list all assets, so

” He trailed off hopelessly.

“But couldn’t you explain to them that”

“Please, Claire. Like explaining that is going to make any difference. No, the ‘simple’ fact is that I have a bank account with close to four thousand dollars in it, and that means I no longer fall within their definitions of ‘needful’. So, as of right now I’m no longer entitled to support.”

“Oh, God,” Claire murmured, sinking down onto a decrepit, yet scrupulously clean, sofa that matched the one her friend was sitting in. Her mind raced as she tried to process this news. With money generally being as tight as it was, she had plenty of practice thinking about financial worries, but the suddenness of this news had her unprepared. “I suppose it’s good that we’ve got rent already paid up ‘till the end of the month. We’ve got a little breathing room at least.” She smiled stiffly, trying to find some good in the situation.

“I know,” Corey said hollowly. “I’ll be checking into other programs, obviously, but who knows how long that’ll take.” He hesitated. “If we have to I could always”

“No,” Claire stated firmly. “You’ve worked so hard for that money, and it’s too important to spend on anything else.”

“Claire, it won’t matter how important it is if we’re both living on the street.” He shrugged dismissively, but Claire could still see the pain and sadness in his face. “So it takes me another few years to pay for everything. It’s not like it’s the end of the world. Now, I want you to promise me something, and that’s if you ever need money for your medication, you’ll tell me. None of this heroic martyr suffering crap, okay?”

Claire nodded reluctantly. “I promise,” she said, knowing that when her friend got that particular expression on his face there was no arguing. “But only if you promise that you won’t touch the money you’ve set aside until absolutely necessary.”

Corey nodded his own promise, and Claire got up to sit back down next to him and wrap her arms around his slight frame. “I love you, you know,” she said. “Darn it, why couldn’t you have been a woman?”

Corey nodded at the old joke. “Sorry,” he replied in a lighter voice. “But even if I was, I still wouldn’t swing your way.” He shrugged, a wry smile on his face. “Sorry.” His face became more sympathetic, and he reached up to stroke the black and white patterns that covered Claire’s face. “Don’t worry, though. There is someone out there for you.”

Chapter 3

“Yo, Claire,” Corey said, sliding over on the bench to allow his friend to sit.

“Yo? What the hell is ‘yo’? Please tell me you’re not trying to become a white rapper and just want to hang with your ‘homies’,” Claire said, sitting down in the shade on the park bench and stretching out her legs gratefully. At five foot ten, she required a lot of legroom, something that she had tried several timesunsuccessfullyto explain to her boss, meaning that she still had to cram her frame into a tiny cubicle and tinier desk. Working for a company that did telemarketing and survey work was bad enough without constant leg cramps. At the same as she enjoyed the delicious stretch of her leg muscles, she automatically checked her shade coverage provided by the tree overhead, making sure she was adequately covered. While the dark areas of her skin were nearly impervious to sunburn, the white patches could burn painfully within minutes. Even with her daily dose of sunscreenshe was the only person she knew to wear sunscreen in the middle of winterpainful experience had left Claire unwilling to depend on a single means of protection.

“I’m practicing at being more butch,” Corey said, nodding his head solemnly. “Is it working?”

Claire looked at him, her eyes wide. She took in his brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt, blue thigh-length shorts, and decidedly delicate build. The only thing that might vaguely be called “butch” was his dark, buzz-cut hair. “Yeah, of course it’s working,” Claire said slowly. “You might want to practice a bit more, though.” She kept a wary eye on him as she pulled a plastic bag wrapped sandwich out of her backpack.

“I’ll do that,” Corey said, unwrapping his own lunch. “Yo.”

Claire just shook her head. “So how’s your day going?”

“As well as it ever goes in the fast-paced, glamorous world of supermarket sales.” Corey made a disgusted face. “A kid threw up in the canned goods aisle today. I feel sorry for the kid, ‘cause he was obviously miserable, but eeeew.” He continued in a quieter voice. “I talked to my boss about getting a raise this morning. He said he’d think about it.” Purposefully pushing away the thought, he said, “In our more immediate vicinity, we’ve got a new luncher with us today. Yo.” He pointed across the small park to another bench under a different tree, where a young brunette sporting an impressive array of ear adornments was looking over some papers while absent-mindedly chewing on a sandwich.

Claire followed his pointing finger, squinting her more sensitive left eye against the brightness. “Hmm. She’s kind of cute.” She frowned. “And kind of familiar. I’ve seen her somewhere before.”

“Really?” Corey asked. “Maybe she goes to the college. Yo. You should go and introduce yourself.”

“Not again, please, Cor,” Claire begged. “I’m really not in the mood to have another person run screaming.”

“Nobody’s run screaming, Claire,” Corey said intently. “And if you want to find someone you’ll have to keep trying. Besides, I’ve been watching her for a while, and I don’t think she’d react badly. Old Luke asked her for change about fifteen minutes ago, and she didn’t even blink. Just looked him right in the eye and gave him five bucks, too.”

Claire looked impressed. Old Luke was a homeless man who lived in and around the park. One half of his face had been horribly burned in some undisclosed fire, leaving vast areas of scar tissue and a white, milky eye. Anyone who could look directly in his face without flinching was either blind, incredibly skilled at controlling their reactions, or honestly unbothered by that kind of injury. Claire and Corey had spoken with him often enough that they were used to his appearance.

Corey continued, “If she isn’t bothered by Old Luke, I don’t think a little variegated albinism is going to bother her.”

That was one of the things Claire loved about Corey. While he never let a person’s appearance affect his view of their personality, he also wasn’t in denial about how others reacted to it, leaving him blunt and matter-of-fact about the entire subject. In Claire’s case, he acknowledged that others were often put off by her startlingly unique colouration, but was also firmly convinced that if she just let someone get past that initial reaction they would find her as appealing as he did.

“I’ll think about it,” Claire said finally. “But who knows, maybe she’s just around for the day. I haven’t seen her around here before.” And in spite of your hopes, “homie”, there’s absolutely no guarantee that she’s gay. Still, even another friend would be nice. But I know I’ve seen her before somewhere. I just can’t remember where.

“Oh Paul, you really have no clue, do you?” Ally muttered to herself as she made yet another red mark on the paper in her lap. It was a physics assignment that she was helping one of her students with, and despite herself she was getting frustrated. It helped that Paul was really trying to understandhe was working diligently, in fact, to pass the coursebut when he kept making the same tiny errors at the beginnings of his calculations, his final results were completely, even spectacularly, wrong.

Closing her eyes and leaning her head back, Ally rubbed her forehead with her fingers, enjoying the warmth that was penetrating the shade she was in. She opened them again when she felt a presence nearby and looked up to see a young woman standing uncertainly a few feet away. Unfortunately, the sun was shining brightly off the windows of a building across the street, leaving the woman backlit and in silhouette. The other woman seemed to hesitate, so Ally smiled. “Hello?”

“Uh

hi,” the woman replied. “I-I hate to bother you, but would you mind if I sat here?” She gestured towards the empty seat beside Ally on the bench. “I normally sit over there” She pointed to another bench across the park. “but as you can see, someone’s taken it for now. I can’t stay in the sun for long, so I was hoping you wouldn’t mind.” She trailed off, and Ally could sense the uncertainty and nervousness coming off her in waves.

“Of course, sure,” Ally said, quickly moving her bag and a few papers off the bench and onto the ground. She waved at the recently vacated seat. “Please.”

“Thanks,” the woman said. As she sat down, placing her own bag nearby, Ally was able to see her features clearly, and her eyes widened barely perceptibly.

Ally had seen the woman from time to time during the week she’d been having lunch in the park, always from a distance, and now her eyes were naturally drawn to the intriguing pattern that covered the woman’s face and arms. At first Ally had thought the designs were tattoos of some sort, but now she could see that the vastly contrasting light and dark patterns were naturally occurring. It was a little startling at first, but also compellingly exotic.

For her part, Claire was watching the other woman’s reaction very carefully, although without making it too obvious. She was immensely relieved when her new companion did not appear repulsed in the slightest, and beyond the initial surprise seemed to be looking at her consideringly. She decided to go for the acid test and held out a hand. “Hi. My name’s Claire.” She was even more reassured when the other woman didn’t even look down at her hand to see whether the patterns on her skin extended to her handsa very typical reaction, Claire had discoveredbut just kept looking her in the eye as she took the hand.

“Hi. I’m AllAllison,” Ally greeted, still unused to her new name. “Call me Ally.”

“Nice to meet you, Ally,” Claire said. She felt even more of the tension in her stomach evaporate. Hmm, maybe Corey was right. This might not be so bad. She had seen that her usual seat had been taken, and knowing that Corey would not be joining her that day, had hesitated for over a minute before approaching the other option. “Sorry about taking over your space, but I really can’t stay in the sun long.”

Ally waved away her concerns dismissively. “No problem. It’s not like I own the bench, anyway. Sit a spell.”

“Thanks,” Claire repeated. She caught sight of one of the papers Ally had been studying. “Homework?” she asked.

“Pardon? Oh this? No, I’m helping out someone from the college. I’m working as a tutor there over the summer.”

Ah, that might be where I saw her, Clair thought. “Really? What is it, math?”

“Physics, actually. Close enough.” For her part, Ally was wondering why talking to this total stranger was so easy. A year ago she would have stuttered and stammered a few sentences before retreating into a book or work. She finally concluded that Claire’s obviously diffident attitude and pleasant manner made her non-threatening. It never crossed her mind that nearly a year of socialising in the highest circles of Atlantlan aristocratic society had eroded a large measure of her own shyness and lack of confidence.

“Really? Are you a teacher?”

“No, I just have my Bachelor’s. This just helps pay the bills.”

Claire was revelling in having another person speak to her completely normally, without looking every few seconds to see whether her deformity was really present. It was usually either that, or the other person would avoid looking at her completely, as though to avoid being rude by staring, and not realising that pointedly not staring was equally offensive. Rather than doing either, Claire could somehow tell that Ally had seen her oddness, acknowledged it, and had not dismissed it, but had relegated it to a place where it was not the primary aspect of her person.

“I’m studying for a math degree myself,” Claire admitted.

“At the college here?”

“Yes. It’s slow going, since I can only go at night, but one of these days

“

“You’re working, huh?” Ally asked.

Claire nodded. Telemarketing and phone surveys. I’m one of those annoying people who interrupts your supper. She shrugged. It buys food.

“I know that feeling. I was a starving student myself at one point. Fortunately my parents were able to pay for most of it, but I remember things being tight. Thank God I don’t have to deal with that any more.”

That was a massive understatement. In fact, Ally was in possession of assets worth over a hundred million dollars, which had been a reward bestowed after she had single-handedly provided information leading to the single largest series of drug busts in history. It was actually a portion of that money, carefully channelled through a series of dummy accounts and holdings, which was paying for her and Evelynne’s undercover existence. They could, of course, have been living in a much more opulent lifestyle, but that certainly did not mesh with the low-key, undistinguished cover they were trying to build.

“That must be nice,” Claire said, and she was not completely able to keep some of the strain and bitterness out of her voice. She shrugged when she saw her companion looking at her questioningly. “Things are a bit tighter now than they usually are. However, ‘This too shall pass.’”

“Hello, love. How are you doing?” Ally asked as her fianc?e came out of The Sixth Age. She had been waiting for a few minutes for Evelynne to finish up with her work before beginning their now-nightly ritual of walking home together. No matter how accepting and supportive she might be about her lover’s desire to find “ordinary” employment, the was no way she was about to let her walk home alone after only a few weeks of experience with the “real world”.

Evelynne sighed tiredly. “Exhausted,” she admitted peevishly. “I had a couple come in just an hour ago, and I couldn’t do anything right as far as they were concerned. Apparently it was my fault that what they wanted on the menu wasn’t there, just because the weekly fish delivery was late. Then apparently the wine was not chilled to exactly the right tenth of a degree, and I was obviously dragging my heels as their personal server. No, make that slave.”

“Oh. Well, that was only part of the day, wasn’t it?” Ally asked cautiously. She knew that her lover had been having a few problems settling into her new role during the past week, although not as many as some might expect. No matter how kind, pleasant, and non-egotistical Evelynne was, the fact remained that she had been born to a position of power and privilegeand responsibilityand she wasn’t used to being ordered around or having her abilities so disrespectfully questioned.

“Yes, but it was the last part, and now I just want to forget the whole thing.” Evelynne look up at Ally. “Sorry for being such a pi’reqet,” she apologised, although there was still a current of stress in her voice. “I just feel

Grr.”

“That’s okay, love. I love you, anyway.”

Ally carefully didn’t mention that she knew that Evelynne’s monthly cycles were about to start. While they had discovered that, unsurprisingly, they had begun to cycle together, Ally also had the mental discipline and meditative techniques to minimise, or at least manage, her own symptoms. Evelynne was learning, but Ally was even going to think of reminding her of that unfortunate fact.

“I know you do,” Evelynne replied. She tried to settle her jangled thoughts and emotions, and was only partially successful. “So how did your day go?”

“Pretty well. Paul is still clueless as ever, although I made a breakthrough, and he now truly realises that he needs to break problems down into their component parts. Now the task is getting him to break them down correctly.” Ally shook her head. “I did meet an interesting woman today over lunch,” she continued, oblivious to her companion’s sudden, carefully hidden rise in tension.

“Oh?” Evelynne asked, the higher level of stress in her voice going overlooked by Ally as just a lingering effect of her tension. “This was at the park?”

“Yeah. She had to sit in the shade, and my bench was the only place. She’s actually going to the college night school, getting her math degree. We had an interesting discussion on complex number theory and how it applies to real engineering problems.”

“Hm. Does ‘she’ have a name?”

This time Ally picked up on the bite to the words, although it puzzled her. “Of course. Claire. Is something wrong?”

Evelynne shrugged. “No. Nothing.” She retreated into silence, despite her lover’s hesitant efforts at conversation.

They remained in strained silence for the rest of the walk to their apartment, as Ally tried to control the gnawing at her gut. As an empath, even a low-level one, she was always deeply affected by the moods of those around her. Most of the time, of course, she had to actively ‘switch on’ her talent to sense others’ emotions, but she and Evelynne shared a much stronger permanent link, which made Evelynne’s thoughts and feelings much easier to detect. However, they had discovered that while Ally had much clearer access to her partner’s feelings, for some reason it was Evelynne who had more control over the strength and intensity of the connection, sometimes being able to block the link completely. Now, though, Evelynne either wasn’t able to, didn’t want to, or hadn’t thought of taking that step; in fact, the opposite was the case, and Ally could feel the mix of her lover’s anger-resentment-love-embarrassment-exhaustion clearly, and she could feel her own protective instincts reacting, causing her to withdraw.

They remained in uncomfortable silence until they reached their apartment, which was set on a quiet side-street on the outskirts of Horton City. Of course, with a population of only thirty thousand, almost allof Horton City could be said to be on the outskirts. The apartment building was a four-story edifice with only twenty units. Its red brick fa?ade, carefully-tended flower gardens, and surrounding trees, made it a peaceful area, though very different from the Atlantlan architecture Evelynne was used to.

Upon climbing the stairs to their third-floor apartment, the two women entered, and once the door was closed Ally hesitated, uncertain of what to do next. Evelynne took the choice from her by announcing, “I’m going to get changed,” and heading to the bedroom.

At a loss, Ally chose to fix some tea for them both. Her fianc?e seemed to be taking her time as she waited for the kettle to boil, and then poured the water over the green tea blend they had both come to like. A healthy blob of honey went into each cup, and then Ally paused a moment before taking them both out onto the small balcony. She stood looking out over the town, so wrapped up in her own turbulent thoughts that she jumped when a pair of arms snaked around her from behind and a face pressed into her back.

“I’m sorry,” Evelynne whispered, breathing in her partner’s slightly sweaty scent. She could also detect a faint hint of cinnamon from the lip balm Ally wore, and her mind instantly flashed back to the very first time they had met, on a street in Marseilles, when assassins had tried to kill them both.

For her part, Ally hugged the arms to her belly, and then lifted one of the hands to drop a kiss on the back. “It’s okay,” she murmured. She had the urge to apologise for something, but didn’t know what. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Evelynne sighed, then turned and led Ally to one of the chairs on the balcony, urging her to sit, and then curling up in her lover’s lap. “Just hold me for a moment, all right?”

Ally just nodded and wrapped her in a warm embrace, and they sat quietly for a while as the tea cooled on the small table.

“I’m sorry for being such a

bitch,” Evelynne said finally. “I just figured out that it’s about that time of the month, so that sure isn’t helping. And on top of everything else

Still, that doesn’t excuse it.”

“Maybe not,” Ally said calmly, “but it does explain it. So I forgive you. I’ve been known to be less than charitable myself when the moon aligns against me.”

“Thank you,” Evelynne murmured, shifting to kiss the hollow of her lover’s throat, smiling at the first hints of purring that erupted. She settled back into her position with a sigh.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Ally asked hesitantly a few moments later. She knew she was right when the body in her arms stiffened suddenly.

“I don’tIt’s” Evelynne sighed again. “It’s stupid,” she admitted finally.

“Please? I want to make you feel better.”

Evelynne struggled with herself for a moment over simply repressing and ignoring the whole thing. And it is stupid. I know that, intellectually. But damn it to the Duat, I’m not feeling intellectual right now. “I’m worried,” she said after several long seconds. “Actually, I’m scared. About you.”

“Me?” Ally asked, startled. “Why?”

” You’re so much more familiar with this type of life,” Evelynne began, waving a hand out towards the world at large. “You know how to react, how to talk to people. What kinds of music and movies people listen to and watch, what they do for fun. And yes, I know you’re not the most social person in the world, but at least you’re familiar with it.”

“But that’s just experience,” Ally protested. “And you’ll learn. You are learning. I mean, you’re kind of like any other immigrant from, say, China or somewhere.”

“Oh, I know. I know that I’m still learning. But that’s not” Evelynne exhaled explosively. “I’m not explaining this well.” She took a minute to arrange her thoughts, while Ally waited patiently. “I’m not really worried about not learning how things work ‘out here’,” she said. “I know I can pick that up. I took etiquette training for years: Court, Church, European. This is just another set of rules to learn. But the thing is that I know I’ll be going home sometime. I’m never going to really fit in here. And even that’s not a problem. The fact remains that I don’t belong here. And when I think of that, I can’t help but wonder whether you belong in my world. Not that I don’t want you!” She said quickly, as she felt her lover tense. “Isis, I want nothing more than to marry you and have you with me! But even so I have to wonder whether you’ll be truly happy with me in that world.” She swallowed and continued, knowing that she was reaching the crux of the matter. “And when you told me that you met a woman in the park, the first thing that went through my mind was whether you’d be happier with her, whoever she is. Not her in particular, but you know what I mean. And then you tell me that you were discussingWhat was it? Complex number something? Anyway, something that I have no clue about, and it just came to me that there must be thousands of women who are far more compatible with you than I am. And then that landed on top of the day I had, and the general stress of being out here and worrying about what’s happening back home, and me about to start my period. I’m sorry you had to meet the ank-lu’pthe werewolf.”

Finally getting that off her chest had made Evelynne feel immensely better, and she settled back into the warmth of her lover’s arms, awaiting Ally’s response. Some time passed before the reply came, but Evelynne was reassured that the arms around her didn’t loosen in the slightest.

“Okay, the first thing I want to say is that I love you,” Ally began fiercely. “It doesn’t have anything to do with compatibility. Well, not completely. I love you. Everything about you. Well, except for the fact that you still have a lot to learn about folding clothes.” This elicited a chuckle from her companion. “I challenge anyone to define compatibility for me, beyond the fact that we’re better together than we are apart. And we are. This doesn’t mean that I don’t find other people attractive, and we’ve done enough chick-watching together for me to know you do too.” That brought wry smiles from both women. “But I want to be with you, and that’s not going to change. So please just accept that.” Ally sighed. “As for the other thing, it’s true that I don’t really feel as ‘at home’ among the Atlantlan Nobility as you do. And so when I do interact there it is an act to a certain extent. But the thing is that I really don’t feel any more comfortable in this society that you think I find so much more familiar.” She shrugged when Evelynne looked up at her in surprise. “Oh, it is more familiar, because I’ve lived in it all my life, but at the same time I’ve always been apart from it. I’ve always had to hide what I am and what I can do. There’s never been anyone truly like me that I could connect with, no society that I fit into. Or if there is some underground Adept culture I’ve never found it. I connect with individuals, of course; my parents, Annie, Chorus, you. But they’re all ones who know my secret, and, in most cases, they have abilities at least somewhat similar to mine. But for the most part, people out there are completely oblivious to the things I can do, so I’m left pretending, wearing a mask so that I look just like everyone else.” Ally smiled wryly. “So I kind of have a choice: be out here, where I don’t really fit in; or stay with you, where I don’t really fit in. That last option has the dealbreaker, of course. It’s with you.”

“Oh,” Evelynne murmured, her voice stunned. She knew that her lover was usually uncomfortable in social situations, but had always assumed that it was simply a matter of uncertainty and unfamiliarity, made stronger by a large dose of innate modesty and shyness. To learn that Ally was actually, at heart, on a lonely quest searching for a place where she truly belonged

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable? Do you wear a mask around me?”

“No,” Ally replied instantly. “I mean, at first I did, because you didn’t know about me, so of course I didn’t tell you everything there was to know about me. But since you learned about that what you see is me. I don’t hide myself from you. Well, obviously there are some things that I haven’t told you, like really embarrassing things that you’re never going to drag out of me, but that’s because they’re so embarrassing that I’d prefer that nobody ever learn about them. But the real me, all the important stuff, you know. I’m just so comfortable with you.”

“Or I’m learning,” Evelynne murmured, and Ally conceded the point with a nod. It would take some time to come to terms with these new revelations, the younger woman knew. What she had learned so far had already increased the amount of sympathynot pityshe felt towards her partner. To realise at last just how alone Ally considered herself to be was unfathomable to her. Evelynne had grown up knowing exactly who she was and where she fit into her society. That place had moved several times, naturally, but she had never felt truly alone, even in the knowledge that she would one day be one of the most politically powerful people in the world. Perhaps it was the underlying knowledge that even as Queen she would inevitably have a King as co-ruler, someone who was her equal in every cultural sense, and therefore that she would never be alone. This new knowledge made her realise just how wise her Kingdom’s creators had been in building the system that they had. “You’re really comfortable around me?”

“I am,” Ally said simply. “More than I am with anyone else. Even with my parents, and my Mom being an empath, they just don’t understand what it’s like to be able to

I don’t know, bench press a Beetle, or see what the clouds look like from the other side. And even though you can’t do that either, I still just get the feeling that you know what it’s like somehow.” She shook her head. “I can’t really explain it any clearer than that.”

“That’s all right. I think I understand.” Evelynne’s mind kept going over what she had just been told, and kept coming back to one thought. She feels comfortable with me. Only me. I’m the only one in the world she feels she can truly be herself around. That thought alone caused a kernel of warmth to blossom deep within her. Then she frowned mentally as she recognised the flip side of that sentence. That means that there’s nobody else she can really turn to, and that’s lonely. So from now on I promise that I won’t get on her case when she happens to connect with someone else on any level. She winced internally. Even when I’m PMSing. She snuggled even closer into Ally’s warmth as she felt the beginning of the evening chill begin to make itself known. “Well, I’m glad you’ve met someone you can talk with about complex thingies and quantum watchamacallits. You’ll have to introduce me some time.”

“I’d like that,” Ally said, relieved that their relationship appeared to be back on an even keel.

“And now, at the risk of becoming an ank-lu’p again, I really need to get inside and lie down.” Evelynne looked up at her lover pathetically. “I feel icky.” Since they had been together, Evelynne had been picking up the odd colloquialism from her partner, in contrast to the more formal style of English she had been taught growing up. “Icky” was now one of her favourites.

“Okay.” Channelling power through her muscles, Ally stood, carrying Evelynne as easily as she would a kitten. Evelynne knew that if she wanted to Ally could lift her over her head one-handedactually, no-handed if she really wantedand spent a moment revelling in the knowledge that that power was devoted to keeping her safe and happy. Which was how she felt at that moment, even with her hormones and emotions all jumbled.

“Why don’t you actually go and have a bath?” Ally suggested, setting Evelynne down near the short hallway to the bathroom and bedroom. “Just lie down and relax and I’ll make us some supper.”

“Macaroni and cheese again?” Evelynne teased.

“Well, it’s quick and easy and it isn’t hard on ‘icky’ stomachs,” she protested mildly.

“Relax, love, I’m just kidding,” Evelynne murmured, drawing her lover’s head down for a long, steamy kiss. “You are a goddess,” she whispered when they finally broke. Turning towards the bathroom, she called over her shoulder, “Put the food in the oven to keep warm when you’re done. I’ll be waiting for you in the bath.”

Corey blinked and rubbed his eyes as his friend practically skipped into the small, thirty-person classroom, but those actions did nothing to dispel the image, forcing him to conclude that he wasn’t hallucinating. When she made her way towards him and plopped into the chair next to his, he looked at her sidelong, as he would a particularly colourful bug in some Amazon jungle. “Hi, Claire,” he ventured. He nearly fell out of his chair when she turned and smiled at him fully. It wasn’t that the smile was particularly wide or intense, but any kind of real smile was rare enough on the other woman’s face, making those that did break through even more impressive.

“Hey, Corey,” Claire said happily, before reaching to get her textbooks and supplies out of her bag. As she did so, Corey could almost swear she was humming.

Okay, time for some Magnum, P.I. he thought, mentally changing into a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses. “So what’s got you in such a good mood?” he asked, casually tapping a pencil against his teeth. “Did you get a raise or something? Sorry I couldn’t meet you for lunch, by the way.”

“Oh, no problem,” Claire dismissed. “And no, no raise, alas. But I did, um, meet someone.” She blushed, turning her black-and-white face into a black-and-red one.

This time Corey almost swallowed his pencil. “You what?” he choked out. “Who?”

“Well, I didn’t actually ‘meet someone’ as in romantically. At least

No, not romantically. But you remember that woman that’s been at the park the last week?” Corey nodded. Of course he remembered. His favourite pastime for the past week had been teasing his friend and speculating wildly on the mysterious woman’s background, personality, profession, and sexual abilities. “Well, when I got to the park today someone was at our bench, and I still needed to get out of the sun, so I asked her if I could sit with her.”

Corey’s eyes widened comically. For someone as insecure as Claire was, this was a huge step. “Wow. You go, Claire. And so obviously she said, ‘Yes.’”

“Uh, yeah. And you were right, she didn’t say a thing about, you know, this.” Claire indicated her variegated face. “I mean, I could see that she noticed, but after that it was just like she didn’t care.”

“Told you so,” Corey proclaimed. “So dish, girlfriend. Info, info, info. Name, job, favourite food, is she single? Tell me everything.”

“Well, her name’s Allison, and” Claire broke off and blushed again as she noticed the math professor, who had entered the room unnoticed, looking in their direction with a disapproving expression on his face. “And I’ll tell you later,” she promised in a whisper.

Chapter 4

“Sophia, table four’s up,” the heavy-set, floridly sweating man announced, reaching up to minutely adjust his hairnet.

“Thanks, Reggie,” Evelynne said to the restaurant’s head chef, and she took a moment in the relative privacy of the kitchen to twist her head around, feeling the stiffness in her neck dissipate a little. Then, with a nod and smile at the three cooks in the kitchen, she picked up the tray and headed back out into the main area of the establishment.

Isis, what a long day, she thought, casting a surreptitious glance at the clock and silently wishing it would move faster. It had been a good day so farno major crises or faux pas on her partbut Evelynne was still unused to being so continuously physically active. Her previous “job”, training to become the next ruler of her country, had frequently involved much longer hours, but was still primarily administrative in focus: meetings, phone calls, reading and writing reports, research. Certainly not the constant walking, running and carrying she was doing these days.

Of course, the efficiency with which she walked, ran, and carried had increased greatly since her first few days on the job, as had her patience and quick-thinking skills. And my knowledge of trivia and American quirks, she mused. She thought back to her second day, when a customer had called her over and asked for an orgasm. Evelynne had gaped, and been inches from slapping the unfortunate woman senseless, when her fellow server, Jean, had intervened and quickly explained that an “Orgasm” was, in fact, the name of a certain mix of alcoholic beverages, and that the customer was not actually propositioning her. Although the next day, when the same female customer had asked Evelynne for “Sex on the Beach”, she had begun to suspect that there was some flirting going on. The day after that, when the same woman had looked Evelynne directly in the eye and asked her if she’d ever had a “Long Hard Screw Against the Wall”, Evelynne had been able to look right back and reply that yes, she had had one the previous evening, and with a “White Russian”, no less. It was a bit of a stretch, since only Ally’s surname was Russian, but it had shut the woman up quickly. When Evelynne had told Ally that evening, her lover had collapsed to the floor helplessly in laughter

once she had finished blushing.

The practice of tipping had also been a stumbling block.

What’s the matter? Jean asked as Evelynne slowly walked towards her through the restaurant.

The couple who was just there, they left without their change, Evelynne replied, concerned.

Oh? What was the bill?

Evelynne quickly checked the receipt. $16.24.

And they gave you twenty? She nodded. The rest is your tip. At Evelynne’s puzzled expression she asked, What, they don’t give tips in Atlantis?

Oh, we do, Evelynne said, still frowning. So this is the gratuity? Did I do something wrong?

What, a four dollar tip on a fifteen dollar meal? Doesn’t look like it to me. I’d say they liked you.

Oh. So, do people usually just leave money on the table? Or just don’t take change?

Jean looked at her, puzzled. Of course.

All right, Evelynne said, still obviously a little confused. Where I come from you always give a gratuity directly to your server. It lets you thank them in person, and it’s also just polite. If you just get up and leave you didn’t appreciate the service.

Doesn’t work like that here, Jean commented. Everyone’s in too much of a rush to wait and thank someone themselves. Don’t take it personally.

I won’t. Evelynne sighed. I suppose I’m learning that the big differences in our societies aren’t always the big things, but are more often the little nuances.

The other reason this particular day seemed to be taking so long was tiredness. For some reason, Ally had found it almost impossible to get to sleep the night before, and while she had solicitously tried to avoid bothering her bedmate, she had still tossed and turned enough to keep Evelynne awake for part of the night as well. The insomnia was a problem that plagued Ally erratically, without any kind of fixed pattern that she could determine. As she had told Evelynne one time, “It’s like my brain gets going and just won’t shut the hell up.”

Still, Evelynne was used to working on little sleep, unlike Ally, whose unique neurochemistry almost seemed to require a full eight hours to function perfectly. She delivered the meal she was serving to the appropriate table, and bestowed a genuine smile on the customers, a sweet elderly coupleat least eighty, by Evelynne’s estimatewho came by at least once a week. Evelynne had at first been a little surprised to see two obviously older people so comfortable in such an obviously gay-friendly establishment, and in such a generally conservative area of America, no less. She had hesitantly asked Narmin about it later on, and the manager had shrugged. “Muriel and Hank have been coming in practically since the week we opened,” she had said, “and they’ve never said, ‘Boo,’ about it. It could be that they just haven’t noticed, but I don’t think so. We’re not really subtle about it, and that Muriel’s sharp as a tack, anyways. So I figure they just don’t care.” She had smiled. “My favourite kind of straights.”

That had been another eye-opener. After being around her boss’ flirting and genial leering for a week, it had been shocking when Narmin’s husband had shown up for a visit. “Oh, Narm played as a switch-hitter for years,” Jean had confided in Evelynne. “I’m pretty sure she hasn’t touched anyone else since they got married, though.” Jean had affected a desolate sigh. “Such a pity.” Marc, Narmin’s husband, was also one of the boss’ “favourite kinds of straights,” and Evelynne had found herself warming to the calm, mild-mannered man as well. In some ways he reminded her of Ally, with his unassuming demeanour, although Evelynne had also once seen him stare down a customera big, beefy truck driverwith nothing more than a glare. Of course, Ally could be particularly intimidating herself if she really had to be, she mused.

Despite her tiredness, the day was turning out well for the erstwhile princess, and she looked up to smile automatically at a new couple, a pair of men in lumberjack shirts who walked in as the chime above the door announced them, before going back to clearing the latest table. It was an oddly fulfilling sensation, she thought, as she continued the new routine of stacking the used dishes on her tray. She was used to working on projects that affected thousands, both directly and indirectly; always, of course, striving to find the solution that provided the most benefit to the most people. What she was doing now was a miniscule responsibility compared to that, but it was also a source of much more immediate gratification: getting a genuine smile as she delivered someone’s food, the wide grin on a child’s, or even adult’s, face when she brought out a surprise birthday cake, even being completely ignored by some infatuated couple who only had eyes for each other. There were, of course, the more negative aspectsdisgruntled customers, spilled food, an unexpected allergic reactionbut she was learning to take those in stride.

Now, as Evelynne walked back into the kitchen, she saw Narmin frowning over some papers at a table set along the far wall, but the other woman looked up and smiled as she entered, before beckoning the younger woman over. Quickly disposing of her load of soiled dishes and cutlery with Jordan, the dishwasher on duty, Evelynne made her way over to the manager.

“Sophia,” Narmin greeted. “How are the mindless masses treating you?”

“Well enough,” Evelynne replied, nodding. “I don’t think I’m going to be on Mr Gerritt’s favourite person list any time soon.” She shuddered at the thought of a particularly abrasive customer.

Narmin laughed. “Actually, Ronnie Gerritt wanted me to know that he think you’re the best waitress he’s had in a long time.” Evelynne gaped. “Don’t worry about him. He’s actually got a psych disorder that makes him literally incapable of being polite. It’s a little like Tourette’s Syndrome. So the more unpleasant he is to you, the more he likes you.”

“Well, he must be about ready to marry me,” Evelynne murmured.

Narmin winced. “That nasty, huh? Well, here’s a hint: look him in the eye when he talks. You’ll be able to see just how he really feels.”

“Thanks. Is that it? I’ve still got customers out there.” Evelynne nodded towards the doors leading to the restaurant floor.

“Actually, there was something. As I think you know, every June twenty-first we have a big Summer Solstice party here.” Evelynne nodded. “Well, usually the day before we have a smaller get-together with just the staff and friends. We also try to have some sort of theme, usually something personal to one of the people here. So, I remember you saying that your girlfriend’s birthday was June fifteenth, so I figured we’d turn this into her birthday party. It’ll just be a chance to hang out, relax, and of course give everybody an opportunity to meet that mysterious girlfriend of yours.”

Evelynne was surprised. The reason Ally had not spent more time around The Sixth Age was only partly due to one of Narmin’s earliest stated rules. “I have no problem with significant others coming into the restaurant,” the manager had said. “Just remember that this is a place of business, and when you’re working you’re working. So if they begin distracting you from other things, then it’s time for them to leave. Otherwise, as long as you’re not screwing on the karaoke machine, have fun.”

The main reason was simply that Ally’s own somewhat erratic work schedule tended to end, fortuitously, just as Evelynne’s did in the early evening, leaving them time to walk home together, but without any real reason to just “hang out” at the restaurant afterwards. So Ally had remained largely an unknown to the highly curious and gossip-hungry staff at the establishment, made even more so by the fact that Evelynne had to be very careful over just how much she revealed. Anything too specific, or anything that made anyone think there was more to their relationship to a certain celebrity couple beyond a vague resemblance, could be disastrous.

“Certainly,” Evelynne agreed, even as all this flashed through her mind. “I’ll have to ask Ally first, though. She really isn’t all that comfortable around crowds. I don’t think she’ll mind, but I ought to make sure.”

“Okay, sure. Not a problem if she doesn’t want to. I’m sure we can come up with another excuse to party somewhere.” They both grinned.

“Claire, how’s it going?” Ally asked as she approached the woman on the bench, although the other woman wasn’t alone this time as she usually was.

“Ally, hi,” Claire replied brightly, grinning up at her new friend. She turned to introduce her companion. “This is Corey, my roommate. Corey, Ally.”

“Hi,” Ally greeted, shaking the young man by the hand. “So you’re the infamous Corey. I saw you a few times a while back, but it’s nice to actually meet you.”

“Ooh, ‘the Infamous Corey,’” the friendly young man replied. “I like it. It makes me sound so bad-ass.” He ignored Claire’s snort. “And so you’re the equally infamous Allison. You know, we should team up together. ‘The Infamous Duo.’ It’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Oh, it has potential,” Ally agreed. She saw Claire’s eyes rolling and chuckled. “So, is there room for me to squeeze in here somewhere?”

As Claire and Corey set about making room on the bench, Corey said, “Darling, you can squeeze in anywhere you’d like. Trust me, Claire won’t mind.” He saw Ally’s mildly befuddled look, and Claire’s violent blush, and his brows rose. “Oh dear, did I just let the pussy out of the bag?” His tone was only mildly repentant. “Our dear Claire here is one of Sappho’s daughters herself, as I believe you are as well.”

This time it was Ally’s turn to blush, as Claire looked undecided whether to strangle her friend or just melt into a puddle of embarrassed goo and slip away through the nearest sewer grate. “Yes. No. I mean, yes, I am, but I didn’t knowI wasn’t sure. Claire never said”

“Claire, Claire, Claire,” clucked Corey. “Now, just because Ally dear is already taken is no reason for you to hide yourself away. It’s unhealthy.”

Ally smiled wryly at Claire. “You tell him everything, do you?”

“Apparently so,” Claire muttered, refusing to make eye contact. “I don’t know why. It’s not as if he has any tact or anything resembling discretion.” She remembered telling him when she had first discovered that Ally was gay, followed a short while later by the revelation that the other woman was already involved, deeply so, if the way she talked about her lover was any indication. It had been, and continued to be, disappointing to know that a compatible potential partner was already out of reach, but she also couldn’t help but respond to Ally’s obvious devotion to her partner. It was heartening, and at the same time disappointing, to know that that kind of love truly existed, and she always found herself listening raptly whenever Ally began to speak about her Sophia.

“Believe it or not, I know the feeling,” Ally replied. “There are certain things I will never tell my mother because I know she will tell her friends. Or worse, my friends. She has absolutely no concept that certain things that I did when I was three are simply out of bounds.” She shuddered. “It’s horrible.”

“Ooh, I like your mother already,” Corey said gleefully, unwrapping his sandwich. “We simply must meet. Where does she live?”

“Canada.”

“Specifics, please,” Corey said. “There’s a whole lot of Canada up there.” He saw Ally’s poorly hidden scepticism. “What? Can’t I know a bit about Canada? I even know that you have ten provinces and three territories.”

“Sorry,” Ally said, shaking her head. “British Columbia.”

“Oh, so you can take the bridge from Saskatchewan,” Claire piped up guilelessly. She laughed when Ally narrowed her eyes, uncertain whether she was joking or not. “Oh, relax, I know where British Columbia is,” Claire reassured her. “It’s a suburb of Toronto, isn’t it?”

“I give up,” Ally exclaimed to the sky, looking upwards and gesturing emphatically, as both Claire and Corey laughed.

The rest of their lunch time passed in a similarly enjoyable manner, until finally Corey looked at his watch and sighed. “Well, no rest for the wicked,” he grumbled, handing the refuse from his lunch to Claire, who separated it into the appropriate recycling piles with the ease of long practice. Standing, he held out his hand again. “It was really good to finally meet you, Ally. We’ll have to do this again some time. Oh, and remember that if things don’t work out between you and your girlfriend, Claire here is ready, willing and able.” He grinned at his friend’s spectacular blush, even as she tried futilely to shut him up. “Heck, she wouldn’t even mind getting in on a little threesome action. So you remember that.”

Ally finally pried her tongue from the back of her throat, where she had nearly swallowed it. “Uh, yeahI don’tWe don’tI” Finally giving up, she let her breath out in a rush. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said finally, realising that any kind of denial on her part would only spur the young man to further heights of teasing and innuendo.

“You do that,” Corey said firmly, grinning in triumph. “The delights of aisle seven call. Later.” With a final wave over his shoulder, he headed back to work.

Ally took a long swallow of her apple juice, giving both herself and Claire a few moments to recover. “So, that’s Corey,” she said finally.

“In the flesh. Look, I’m really sorry about that. He just gets”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ally dismissed the apology. “I have a friend like that in Atlantl. The only difference between them is that LarrLarry’s innuendo is more subtle and refined.” She caught herself on the name just in time. While she thought it unlikely that Claire had ever heard of Count Larrell, affectionately referred to as “Lecherous Cousin Larrell” by Evelynne, she decided not to take any chances. “Well, that and Larry’s completely and utterly heterosexual.” She frowned. “As far as I’ve seen.”

“Yeah, well, Corey’s definitely in a class of his own,” Claire said awkwardly. She knew that Corey’s situation was, in fact, significantly more complex, but wasn’t about to trot out that particular can of worms.

“On that subject, why didn’t you say you were, you know, gay? I mean, I’ve talked about Sophia enough that it’s hardly any secret where my preferences lie. It’s not like you had to, of course, but you know what I mean.”

Well, I couldn’t tell you at first because I didn’t know just where you stood on the subject, Claire thought. And then I couldn’t tell you because it was too embarrassing for me to have this huge crush on you while you’re clearly in love with someone else. “I dunno,” Claire said, shrugging and refusing to make eye contact. “It just never seemed like a good time, y’know? Besides, it’s not like I’m really a practising l-lesbian right now.”

“Okay.” Ally shrugged. “Although I’d think that Corey would be constantly trying to set you up.”

“Oh, he does,” Claire admitted. “But, well, with this

” She trailed off, gesturing to her multicoloured face and body.

“With what?” Ally asked blankly.

Claire stared at her incredulously. “This. You know, my condition. People seem to have a hard time getting past it.”

“Oh! Sorry. It’s just that I think it’s kind of cool, actually.” Ally shrugged again, embarrassed.

Claire stared at her again. Damn it, are you trying to make me fall for you? she asked silently. “Um, thanks. Not everyone seems to feel the same way, though. Or they do, but for the wrong reasons,” she finished enigmatically, ruthlessly suppressing that particular memory.

Ally looked at her quizzically, but chose not to pry. “Okay. Well

” She trailed off uncertainly. Claire jumped when Ally smacked herself lightly on the forehead. “Oh shoot, I should have asked while Corey was here.”

“What?”

“Well, it’s just that Sophia’s work is throwing this party next week, and they want to turn it kind of into my birthday party. Yeah, I know, I hardly know any of them, but, anyway

So, I was wondering if maybe you and Corey would like to come along? Like I said, I hardly know anyone, and I’m really not that great around strangers, and I was kind of wanting to have at least a few people there that I know. So, would you like to come?”

Claire was looking at her like she’d just offered to buy Bolivia. Damn it, why does it have to sound like you’re asking me out on a date? I know you’re not, but, damn, I wish you were. “A-are you sure they won’t mind? S-Sophia won’t mind you bringing along a couple of total strangers?” Yes, remember Sophia, her girlfriend?

Ally shrugged again and smiled wryly. “Actually, she suggested it. She knows we’re friends, and she knows I have trouble getting comfortable with new people.” She smiled fondly. “She’s always looking out for me. Anyway, everyone else is apparently going to be bringing along a few friends and significant others. So I guess it just comes down to whether you want to go or not.”

“Okay. When is it, exactly?”

“Next Wednesday, starting at eight. It’s at the Sixth Age. You know where that is?”

“Yeah, I can find it.” Claire was silent for several long moments as she thought. Shit, this has all kind of potential for disaster. Ally doesn’t have any problem with what I look likeshe thinks it’s “cool”, how amazing is that?but I don’t know about the other people who will be there. Still, I’ve heard that bar is a pretty interesting place, so maybe it’ll be okay. I don’t think Ally would invite me to something like this if she thought I’d be shunned or anything. On the other hand, even though, or maybe because, she’s “cool” with me, she might not really understand how some people react. Which might possibly be awful for me. Still

She sighed mentally. I like being with her. Finally making up her mind, Claire said, “Okay, I’d love to come.” I’ll be blowing off a math tutorial, but screw it. Besides, I really want to meet this Sophia. I think.

“Well, that was unpleasant,” King Jad muttered, wiping his hands together as though trying to rid them of some vile substance. “But at the same time highly satisfying.”

Meghan Doherty kept a straight face, certain whether it would be inappropriate to add her own comments to her King’s, even if they were ones of agreement. Even though she agreed wholeheartedly, she was still quite aware that she was only a servant, while he was a Diarch of her country. Besides, it was against her upbringing and training to openly criticise one of the Nobility, even one as far in Royal disfavour as Count Bransen.

Soon-to-be ex-Count Bransen, actually. The recent meeting which had taken place in this office, and which Meghan had been both honoured and disturbed to have attended, had been for the King to inform the imminent ex-Noble of his lack of future. She knew that the King had been frustrated at his inability to properly chastise Bransen for the latter’s inflammatory, bigoted remarks at the latest ill-fated Conclave, but he had been far too busy rebuilding and restoring the government, Guard, and emergency services to act. The fact remained that, as Bransen was one of the only twenty percent of the seated Nobility to survive the recent massacre, both the King and Queen had been hesitant to create any further disruption by seeking his removal from his position.

That had been before Bransen’s own Advisory Council had petitioned the newly-installed Duke Emil of Lyonesse to have the Count’s title stripped on the grounds of gross incompetence. Duke Emil was the Heir of the late Duke Hassan, who had died in the fighting, and while he had so far demonstrated much of his father’s conservative streak, he had likewise been instilled with the same high sense of responsibility towards both his office and his people. Additional impetus had come from no less than three quarters of Bransen’s Barons, many of whom were also just coming into their inheritance, who had come forward with reports of Bransen’s attempts at bribery, strong-arming, and generally trying to influence the new balance of power to his own ends. And while a degreeeven a high degreeof powermongering was normal among the Nobility, Bransen had finally crossed the line where his peers were willing to tolerate his actions, and into the area where they were actively disrupting the functioning of the government. He had been using petty County Proclamations, minor points of governance that did not have to be ratified by his Advisors, to create a lot of highly unnecessary work for his Barons, then underhandedly snuck off with bits of their power while they scrambled to mitigate the damage.

And so Duke Emil had come to his Monarchs seeking their support and approval in stripping Bransen of all his titles and power, something which the Monarchs in question had been only too happy to give.

King Jad had summoned Bransen into his office where, in the presence of Queen Cleo, his Internal Politics Advisor, Legal Advisor, Master of the Guard, and Meghan Doherty, he had delivered the bad news. The Count had obviously felt himself nearly untouchable at first, certain that his Lieges would be unwilling to add to the chaos by removing someone of his putative experience. That certainty had faded, along with his oily charisma and false humility, as it was explained just how grossly he had exceeded his bounds. He had been red and nearly choking with impotent rage by the time the King had dismissed him summarily, almost as though Jad was flicking a piece of dirt off his coat. Sir Adun had been required to escort the shaking Noble to the door.

The actual stripping of Bransen’s power would be handled shortly by Duke Emil and his Advisors, but it was traditional for the unfortunate Noble to be informed beforehand by the King and Queen themselves. After that it would be a matter of Count Bransen’s immediate Barons selecting one of their own to take his place. By Law and tradition, if they could not make a decision within three days, Duke Emil would, in consultation with the King and Queen, summarily make his own selection, thus minimising the amount of disruptive backroom dealing and power brokering that could take place.

“You’re right, Jad,” Queen Cleo agreed from her place in a nearby chair. She looked faintly disgusted herself, but was obviously controlling it with the experience born of years of diplomacy. She didn’t say anything more, in deference to the presence of the Advisors present.

The King caught her subtle signal, and turned smiling to his Advisors. “Nathan, Elizabeth, thanks for this. I won’t keep you any longer.”

While not subtle, the two Advisors accepted the dismissal gracefully. “Of course, Sire,” Elizabeth Grissom, the King’s elderly Internal Politics Advisor, said, bowing. “If I may remind you, Enku Tladi will be seeking several minutes of your time this afternoon.”

“Ah yes. What did he want again?”

“I believe he is wishing to discuss relinquishing some of his duties as Aide to Count Avalon’s Regent, Sire. He stated that he felt his abilities could be more useful elsewhere. I am uncertain of his specific intentions.”

“I see. Thank you, Elizabeth.”

“Of course, Sire,” Advisor Grissom repeated. “Your Majesty.” She bowed to the Queen, and then exited the room, Advisor Nathan T’Near following behind.

Receiving a slight nod from his King, Sir Adun followed them out and shut the door behind him.

Once alone, Queen Cleo relaxed enough to give a full-body shudder. “Thank God that’s over,” she exclaimed. “I feel like I need a shower.”

“Likewise,” the King agreed. He turned to Meghan, who was still standing a little uncertainly nearby. “I’m sorry you had to experience that, Meghan.”

“That’s quite all right, Sire,” the servant demurred, while the Queen spared Jad a wry smile that she couldn’t see.

Despite her other exceedingly admirable qualities, Meghan Doherty was still a Palace servant, and both Diarchs knew very well that as such she was an incurable gossip. When it came to true matters of state secrets, she had already been proven to be beyond reproach, but both Jad and Cleo were fully aware that before the day was over a reasonably accurate version of the events that had just taken place would have already spread throughout the Palace. By the end of the week versions would have travelled to most of the Nobles’ retinues, and from there to the ears of the Nobles themselves. While in public the Diarchs would have to treat Bransen with at least a modicum of respect, how they truly felt about him would be well-known. As would a number of details concerning the ex-Noble’s activities that could not be discussed officially, for various reasons. And all because Meghan Dougherty had “just happened” to be delivering some correspondence to the King when Bransen had arrived.

“Now, please sit down, Meghan, and tell me what my daughter has been up to.”

The King was much more free with his speech while in this office than he had been a few weeks ago. In the intervening period a group of Guard bug-sweepers, men and women personally guaranteed by Sir Arthur Ramirez to be beyond suspicion, had practically dismantled the office and put it back together, declaring it as secure as possible. Actually, they had discovered three listening devices, but they were almost forty years old, and obviously the remnants of some long-defunct bit of espionage. They still went through the office at least twice a day with bug-sweepers, ensuring that what occurred in the office stayed there.

“Thank you, Sire,” Meghan said, lowering herself into the chair. “First, both EvHer Highness and her Consort are well. I believe they are under some stress, but I would be, too, in their situation.”

“I’d be worried if they weren’t,” Cleo said quietly. “So what are they doing? Last time you said that they had moved into an apartment.”

“Well, Madam, they are settling in, I believe. They have also

gained employment.”

The King’s bushy brows rose speculatively. “Given the resources they have available, I wouldn’t have thought Alleandre would decide she needed to work. Still, I suppose she might feel it’s necessary to blend in.”

Meghan looked uncomfortable. She cleared her throat uncomfortably “Actually, Sire, Her Highness and Her Ladyship have apparently both found employment in the civilian sector.”

Jad gaped, while Cleo blurted, “What?! Doing what, exactly?”

The servant looked even more uncomfortable, flushing and refusing to meet her Diarchs’ eyes. “Her Ladyship is tutoring, I believe, Sire, and Her Highness is a

personal server in a dining establishment.”

There was dead silence for several long moments. “Are you trying to tell me that my daughter, the next Queen of Atlantl, is currently working as a waitress in a restaurant?” The King’s voice was overly calm and controlled, although his face betrayed his shock and bafflement.

“Yes, Sire.”

There were a few more minutes of silence. “Well,” King Jad said finally, his tone now displaying his considerable efforts to understand this situation, “at least she’s not working in a bar somewhere.”

Meghan Doherty reddened further and coughed. “Well, actually, Sire

“

Chapter 5

“Claire, you decent?” Corey called, knocking lightly on the door leading to their tiny bathroom. Dressed in a pair of loose black pants and a purple silk shirt, he was currently holding two silk scarves, one red and one blue.

“Yeah, c’mon in, Cor,” came the muffled reply through the door.

The young man obediently entered, finding Claire standing at the sink, looking into the cracked mirror with a bottle of lotion in her hand. “You’re not ready yet?” he asked. “We’ve gotta get going. This thing’s supposed to start in a half hour.”

“Yeah, I’m nearly ready.” Claire absently indicated her own simple mauve dress, a choice of attire that helped accentuate the curves of her upper body while flaring out into a wide skirt at the bottom. It had been one of her best finds yet at the Salvation Army. “I’m just

I’m just trying to decide. To paint or not to paint?” She held up the bottle of lotion, revealing it to be a kind of face paint, perfectly matched to the darker portions of her skin. It had been a gift from one of Corey’s long-departed boyfriends who had worked make-up in the theatre. Properly applied, it would conceal her variegated skin almost perfectly. However, there wasn’t an endless supply, meaning that the choice to use it had to be made carefully. Her bicoloured eyes could be hidden behind sunglasses, or explained away as coloured contacts, and her hair was easily assumed to have been dyed.

“Claire,” Corey said firmly, taking the bottle and placing it back into the medicine cabinet above the sink. “This is not a job interview or an interview for a loan application. This is a party, to which you have been invited by someone who doesn’t mind what you look like. Who, in fact, if I understood your semi-coherent ramblings the other day, thinks you look ‘cool’. It is also taking place at the Sixth Age, a venue with a solid reputation for being very alternative. Not that that takes much in our painfully white-bread town. Still, I have been to the Sixth Age, so believe me when I say that nobody will be laughing, pointing, or otherwise making fun of you. In point of fact, there is a distinct possibility that you will not even be the most exotic-looking person there.” He saw Claire’s incredulous expression. “Darling, take my word for it, at least until we get there.”

“Well, if it’s so ‘alternative’, why haven’t you taken me along before now?” Claire asked, aware that her tone was petulant.

“Because, my dear, the times that I have gone I have had a very specific goal in mind, one that would have been more difficult to achieve had another person been present. Not that I had much success in any rate.” Corey faltered, frowning, then shook off the thought. “I also knew that you would have been painfully uncomfortable and unhappy sitting by yourself while I was out prowling. This time, while I will still be prowling” Corey waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I know that you will have at least one other person willing and even eager to have you enjoy yourself. And, assuming this Sophia is as wonderful as Ally insists she is, there will be at least two.”

Claire sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “So you’re telling me to just go and be myself and try to have a good time.”

“Precisely, Claire, my dear.” Corey’s face softened and he wrapped a comforting arm around his friend’s shoulders. “And remember that if you really want someone to accept you for who you are, that includes your real physical self, as well as the wonderful personality I know you have.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Claire muttered. “Yet another person telling me about my ‘great personality’.”

“Oh, hush,” Corey said, slapping her lightly on the arm. “So, are you thinking of more conventional makeup?”

“I dunno,” Claire replied uncertainly. “It’s been so long since I’ve been out to any sort of party. Not since

 She trailed off, then shook her head and thrust that memory behind her. “What do you think?”

“I say no,” her friend said firmly. “You’ve already got the most exotic natural makeup going, anyhow. Adding anything is just going to look unnatural.”

“Unnatural,” Claire scoffed. “Right.”

“I’m serious. I keep telling you that your face really does look natural,” Corey protested. “It’s like a tiger’s coat or something.”

“Great, that’s me. Zebra-girl.”

“Okay, Claire, enough. No matter how good you might otherwise look, it’s all ruined when you’re sulking.”

“Sorry,” Claire apologised, swallowing hard. “I’m just really nervous. It’s been a really long time since I’ve done anything like this, and, well, I really like Ally, and even though I have no chance with her, I still don’t want her realising I’m a freak.”

Corey sighed. “I’ll say this one more time for tonight, then I’m stopping, because I give up. You are not a freak. Trust me, I know.”

“Sor” Claire began, then stopped when she saw her friend’s glare. Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply once, and then exhaled in a long, slow breath. When she opened her eyes she had managed to attain a degree of calm. “Okay,” she said. “So, we should get going, huh?”

“Yep. First, though, tell me, which scarf should I wear tonight? Red or blue?” Corey held both up against his throat in turn.

“Mmm, blue,” Claire said. “The red’s too jarring.”

“That’s what I thought,” Corey agreed, tying the scarf around his neck as he turned and walked out into their living room.

The living area matched the bathroom in terms of size, and was just barely large enough to hold a small couch, tiny breakfast table, two chairs and a couple of bookshelves. One wall actually acted as their kitchen, although with only a sink, two-burner gas hotplate, and a few cupboards, it barely deserved the title. Despite the generally dilapidated air, it was kept immaculately clean, thanks mostly to Claire, although Corey could be persuaded to help out when needed.

Entering the room herself, Claire was reminded by another unpleasant topic that was looming over them both. “So, did you talk to Mr. Irons?” Her voice didn’t hold much hope.

“I did.” Corey’s own voice was tinged with repressed anger. “No dice. We pay or we walk.”

“So we’re homeless at the end of the month.”

“Yeah. A buddy of mine at work knows a cheap place that might be opening at the beginning of August, but that’s a month too late.” Forcing himself to smile, he turned to Claire. “Screw it, my dear. Tonight we are simply two dashing young queers out to paint the town in rainbow hues.” He offered his arm to his companion. “Shall we?”

“Sophia!” the manager of the Sixth Age greeted loudly as Evelynne and Ally exited the doors from the kitchen, where they had previously let themselves in through the back door. “You made it.” Narmin hurried over from the doors leading to the outdoor patio area at the side of the restaurant, having heard the telltale buzz that had announced their entry. She briefly embraced both of them, including a quick but firm kiss that startled Ally, but Evelynne accepted with aplomb, having become used to her boss’ demonstrative manner.

“Hello, Narmin,” Evelynne replied. She looked around the restaurant, taking in the chairs still up on the tables, and the total lack of anyone other than themselves. “Where is everyone?”

Narmin finished tossing Evelynne’s light jacket and Ally’s longer hooded cloak behind the bar and then looked at the assembled people. “Oh, they’re all outside, in the process of getting soused. There’s just no way these jokers are going to waste any time that they could be partying. Come on, let’s get you introduced.”

They passed through the restaurant quickly before heading back out into the sunshine on the outdoor patio area. It was a small walled area just off the side of the building, partially covered with grape arbours that Narmin’s husband had painstakingly coaxed into growing. They gave the patio a very Mediterranean feel, and it was one of the places where Evelynne felt most at home.

Once they had been escorted over to where several tables had been pushed together under the arbour, Evelynne could see that a number of her fellow employeesit still felt very strange to be considered an “employee”were already present. Jean and Theresa, two of the other servers, were there. Theresa was unsurprisingly alone, having recently gone through a messy break-up with her latest boyfriend that had spilled over into the restaurant one evening. Henry, one of the assistant chefs, was sitting nearby. Evelynne half suspected that he was waiting for the right moment to make his own interest in Theresa known, although he was so painfully shy, far worse than even Ally had ever been, that she highly doubted he would make any sort of move without some serious intervention. Evelynne and Jean had actually recently joined forces, after the nasty incident with Theresa’s ex, to see what help they could provide in that department. Reggie, the head chef, would likely be arriving soon with his son, Rory, who was also the second assistant chef the restaurant boasted. Hal and Erin, who doubled as both bartenders and servers, would arrive later, once they had dropped their children off at the babysitter’s. Kelly, Alice and Ken, who all worked the evening shift, when the establishment became less a restaurant and more a bar, Evelynne knew less well, and she didn’t see them present either.

“Hey, Soph, you’re here,” Jean exclaimed, jumping up to hug her friend boisterously and planting kisses on both cheeks. She had obviously been among the first to arrive, and even now was certainly feeling no pain. “And the lovely and mysterious Ally,” she continued, grabbing Ally’s hand to press a kiss on the back, although it would have appeared more gallant if her gaze had been a little more focused. “So you finally coerced her to come.” She leaned back a little to take in both their outfits, and pursed her lips in a soundless whistle. “And looking hot, too.”

That was certainly true, Evelynne had to admit.

“Actually, no coercion was necessary,” Evelynne replied, an amused smile tugging at her mouth.

“Since when is it necessary to use coercion?” Jean asked. “I personally find it a lot of fun to coerce someone into something they were going to do anyway.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Evelynne chuckled as the meaning penetrated, and Ally followed several seconds later with a deep blush. “I’ll remember that,” Evelynne said, grinning.

Introductions followed, with most of the more energetic ones being directed to Ally, as the “birthday girl” and putative “reason” for the party. Still, she suffered the hugs and kisses well although, although Jean’s wandering hands during her second greeting caused a heated blush, and earned the offender a deadly glare from Evelynne that only large quantities of alcohol prevented from becoming fatal. She had found herself firmly attached to her lover’s side after that, although the amused twinkle in Evelynne’s eyes showed that she wasn’t particularly serious.

Seats and drinks were procured for the new arrivals: Evelynne being treated to a “Long Hard Screw Against the Wall”, much to everyone’s amusement, while Ally stuck to a plain gin and tonic.

Finally Narmin asked, “I thought you were bringing along a couple of friends. Are they still coming?”

“Yeah,” Ally replied, looking at her watch. “They should be getting here any time now.” As if on cue, a buzz sounded above the low music that was playing that indicated that someone was at the locked front door. “Ah, that’s probably them. Do you mind if I go and let them in?” She started to stand up.

“Sure, no problem. It’s just deadbolted right now.”

“Thanks,” Ally said, heading in that direction.

“I think I should warn you,” Evelynne said in a low voice once Ally was out of earshot. “According to Ally, Claire looks a little strange. I know you don’t mind about anything like that, but she said it’s a little startling at first.”

“Okay,” Narmin said, shrugging, and everyone else made a similar gesture.

At the door, Ally unlocked the deadbolt and looked out into the street. It was still bright out despite the hour, being the day before the Summer Solstice. Sure enough, Claire and Corey were standing outside and they smiled in greeting. “Hey guys,” Ally greeted. “Come on in.”

“Thanks, Ally,” Claire said. She was carrying a small wrapped box, and handed it to Ally as she entered. “Here you go. Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks,” Ally replied. “You didn’t have to, really.”

Claire shrugged. “I wanted to. I thought you’d like it.”

“Well, thanks again.” She greeted Corey in turn as he walked through the door. “Hi, Corey. Glad you could come.”

“You think I’m going to miss a party?” he asked, turning to close the door behind him.

Ally caught his slightly concerned glance outside as he did so. “Problem?” she asked.

“No, not really,” he said. “There was just a bunch of kids kind of harassing us as we were walking here. Nothing serious.”

“You sure? I suppose we could call the police.”

“No, it’s okay. They’re just a bunch of local high school kids trying to act like they’re some big city gang. Having actually seen some big city gangs, it’s kind of amusing.” He was obviously still a little bothered, but was making light of the situation with the ease of long experience.

“Okay if you say so. Come on, let me introduce you to the others.”

Claire sat quietly, watching the conversation carrying on around her, and slowly working her way through the brightly coloured cocktail, something Ken, the acting bartender, referred to as a “Bob Marley”. She hadn’t drunk nearly as much as some of the others, and was content to simply sit and occasionally take part in the surrounding discussions.

The initial introductions had gone extremely well, she thought. There had been a few widened eyes at her unusual features, and were still occasional casually intrigued looks, but as Corey had promised, nobody had stared or made any kind of scene. Except for Jean, who was easily the most inebriated of the bunch, and who had simply gushed over how “cool” and “awesome” she looked, and finally had to be pried away from an extensive anddue to eyes that wouldn’t quite focusvery close-up examination of her face and hands. Though embarrassed, Claire had managed to endure the scrutiny with good grace, easily sensing that the drunken woman meant absolutely nothing derogatory by it.

On a couch a few metres away, Ally was animatedly trying to explain to the restaurant’s chef, Reggie, how gravity wasn’t really a force, but a consequence of curved spacetime and variations in the flow of time, with apparently limited success. From what Claire could overhear, the beachball analogy wasn’t working, although Ally was pressing gamely on, while her girlfriend, Sophia, looked on with an amused smile.

Meeting Sophia had been interesting. Claire had been prepared to feel jealousytotally irrational, she admittedbut that had quickly faded before the redhead’s friendly nature and immense charisma. Sophia had easily drawn her out of her nervousness, and before she quite knew what was happening, Claire had been chatting easily with her and then skilfully brought into a group of equally gregarious guests. The fact that Ally doted on her had been obvious, and equally obvious was that Sophia returned the affection. They seemed to almost have an eerie, unspoken communication going on at times, so completely in tune with each other that they didn’t even need to ask if the other was hungry, or needed a drink refill, and more than once Claire had seen them look at each other for a few moments and suddenly break out laughing, apparently enjoying some inside joke.

Claire started when Jean suddenly flopped down on the couch next to her, grinning at her with the complete garrulousness of the highly inebriated. So, Claire, Jean stated loudly. Claire, Claire, Claire, Claire, Claire. With an effort the drunken woman pulled herself out of the rut her mind was in. So, Claire, when’s your birthday? We gotta know so we can plan another one of these cele

celebububrations?

Claire grinned nervously, looking around to see who else was paying attention. She had been half-expecting a question of this sort, but it always threw her off-balance when it was asked. My b-birthday?

Yeah, your birthday. You know. That date that shows up on your birth certit

certic

certitificacate. Jean looked proud of getting the word at least partially correct.

Oh. Uh

February seventeenth. Or thereabouts. When you’re dumped on a hospital doorstep it’s a little tough for the doctors to ask your mother what day you were born. The best they can come up with is, Sometime last week.

Fortunately, Claire was saved from having to elaborate when Narmin stood and, after a whispered conversation with her husband, clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Right,” she said, her voice carrying easily over the music that was playing, and even as she spoke, her husband turned it off. “I think it’s time for the birthday girl” She grinned at Ally, who blushed. “to get her presents. And as most of you know, we have a birthday tradition here at the Sixth Age.” Ally, Sophia, and a few others looked uncertain, but the veteran staff was now grinning enthusiastically. “In order to earn her gifts, the guest of honour

” Narmin paused for effect. “

must sing!” She gestured with a flourish towards the small stage with the karaoke machine, and on cue her husband flicked a switch, bathing the area in light.

A chorus of cheers, applause, and catcalls greeted Narmin’s announcement, although Ally seemed to be vacillating between blushing and paling, and was shaking her head briskly. “Oh, no, no, no,” she denied loudly. “Uh-uh. No way. Trust me, you don’t want me singing.” She smiled, but Claire could see it was forced, and was surprised that there was actual fear behind it.

“Oh, come on, Ally, you think any of us are any good?” Alice called, looking around at her fellow employees for support.

“Hell, no,” her husband, Ken agreed. “Being good has nothing to do with it.”

“Hey!” Reggie objected, a mock scowl on his face. “Speak for yourself.”

“Well, right, except for Placido Domingo over there,” Ken allowed, waving at the large chef dismissively. “But the rest of us are awful. Right, mates?”

A loud, enthusiastic affirmative answered his question, and Henry nodded with comic enthusiasm. Still, Ally looked unconvinced. “I justI don’tI”

Sophia drew her partner’s head down and spoke quietly in her ear, holding and stroking Ally’s hand as she did so. The taller woman still looked sceptical, but it slowly morphed into an expression of uncertain agreement, and finally she nodded.

“All right,” Sophia said to the room at large, “we’re good to go. But only as long as I get to choose the music.”

“No problem,” Narmin said promptly, handing over a large black binder. “So, what did you promise to get her to agree?”

“Nothing you need concern yourself with,” Sophia replied airily, as Ally blushed again. “Well, you get up there, love,” she continued, kissing Ally briefly before nudging her towards the stage. Still manifestly reluctant, Ally complied, Narmin and Alice in tow to show her how to use the equipment, while Sophia paged through the list of available music. It wasn’t long before she stopped at a particular page. “I don’t know this song, exactly,” she said, “but the title is simply too good to pass up. Can you put on I-7?”

“I-7, I-7,” Narmin muttered, punching numbers into the small keypad. She peered at the screen, and slowly grinned as the name of the song came up. She gave a thumbs up. “Perfect choice. Ally, you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Ally muttered, standing awkwardly with the microphone clutched in one white-knuckled hand. She frowned as she concentrated on the first few notes that came through the speakers, then her eyes widened and she cast a brief glare at her broadly smiling girlfriend as the tune registered and the first lyrics appeared on the screen. Still, she took a deep breath and only missed a couple of beats before gamely launching into the first verse, complaining about being too sexy for her car.

Ally would never be a professional singer, Claire mused, as she watched the woman on stage concentrating intently on the lyrics appearing on the screen before her. Still, the fact that she was willing to do something that was obviously very difficult for her, and the way she was obviously putting so much effort into it more than made up for any minoror majorflaws in pitch or rhythm. Thankfully, the original lyrics did not require much in the way of tune or variation. Then, in the brief pause between the second and third verses, Ally closed her eyes, took another deep breath, and when she opened them again, something had obviously changed. She was no longer looking at the words on the screen, but at the audience, and Sophia in particular, singing from memory. Her voice was still quite apparently out of tune, but it was much more confident, and she even managed to smile, blushing at least three shades of red as she did so, and put on a little show for the audience, “shaking her little tush on the catwalk,” and only laughing when she complained about being “too sexy for her shirt” and Jean yelled at her to take it off.

Evelynne sighed happily as she rested her head on her lover’s shoulder and they swayed softly to the music. Ally responded by squeezing her closer reflexively, and Evelynne smiled as she let her eyes close. It had been an excellent evening, she mused. After Ally’s brief foray into the musical realm, not to mention the added delight of seeing her dancing on stage to music, the focus had shifted to the bestowing of gifts.

Evelynne’s co-workers had been most generous, with books and CD’s making up the bulk of Ally’s haul. Corey had broken the mould with a gorgeous blue and purple blouse, and Ally had peered suspiciously into the paper bag holding Jean’s gift before abruptly slamming it closed and refusing to show anyone else. Not even Evelynne had been able to get her partner to give a hint, although her deep flush and Jean’s canary-eating grin suggested a few possibilities. Even Ally’s thoughts had been embarrassed when she had finally promised to show Evelynne what it was once they got home that evening.

The princess’ own gift, a simple silver ring bearing a deep purple amethyst, had been accepted with near awe by her fianc?e, and everyone else had been highly impressed and speculative when Ally insisted on putting it on the ring finger of her left hand. They had been able to keep the exact details of their impending marital status fairly vague, and the logical side of Evelynne’s mind would really have preferred it if her lover had put the ring on some other finger, but the larger portion had firmly overruled it. Wherever she wants it is where it will go, she had thought.

Ally’s final present had been received almost as appreciatively as the one Evelynne had given her. Claire had shyly and hesitantly handed over a small box, wrapped with incredible precision in plain brown paper. On opening it, Ally had found a small silver pendant in the shape of a dragon, wings outstretched in flight and bearing a tiny quartz crystal in its claws. It wasn’t a new piece, and Claire had admitted finding it in a small antique store nearby, although Evelynne had learned in a whispered comment from Corey that the other woman had spent quite some time polishing it back to its current brilliant shine. It had been a greatly appreciated gift, given Ally’s affinity for all things draconic, and Sophia had seen her partner absently caressing it often throughout the evening.

Thoughts of the giver of the present caused Evelynne to frown a little mentally, and she turned her head to glance at Claire, who was being led expertly around the dance floor by Reggie, who had proven to be as good a dancer as he was a singer, which had been quite a revelation, and was giggling shyly at some comment he was making. Given her lifelong experience in social situations, Evelynne was more than capable of reading at least some of the emotions behind other people’s expressions, if not so directly as Ally was able to when she wished, and she could tell that Claire was harbouring at least a small crush on her fianc?e. With her memory of her previous insecurity still in her mind, Evelynne was sensitive to the fact. It was odd, though, she thought. Jean, for example, was just as obviously attracted to her Ally, and flirted much more outrageously than Claire ever had. Actually, Claire had not done a thing that could truly be called flirting, yet Evelynne felt much less threatened by Jean than by the much quieter Claire.Maybe it’s because Jean is much more blatant, she considered. With her it’s like she does it out of habit, so it’s less serious. But Claire’s a lot more like Ally. She’s quiet and shy, but also very intelligent. I suppose I can see Ally being interested in her more than she would be in Jean. I don’t know her all that well yet, but I can see that they could be a good couple. Of course, I’m hardly quiet or shy, and I like to think that Ally and I are a good couple, so maybe I’m overreacting. She looked at Claire again, remembering the hesitancy with which the other woman had entered into the social scene, and the almost-hidden surprise as she was actually welcomed into the group. Besides, I really don’t believe she would ever make any kind of move on Ally, even if she wants to. And I know Ally would never seriously consider making a move in the other direction. Oh, it might cross her mindwe’ve both admitted that we at least look at other women after allbut really doing something? No. Evelynne relaxed and rested her head back on Ally’s shoulder again, pleased to have resolved matters in her own mind. Besides, I like her. She’s a good person. Maybe I should try to get Claire and Jean together? No, I don’t think so. I know Jean plays a littlewhat’s the phrase?fast and loose, and if Claire is anything like Ally I don’t think her emotions would be able to handle something like that. I don’t know anyone else who might work, though. Although maybe

She was jolted from her musings when a finger poked her in the side, and looked up to see Ally looking at her with an eyebrow cocked, an amused expression on her face. “Having a good conversation?” Ally murmured.

Evelynne felt herself blush lightly. Yes, actually. You know what they say. If you talk to yourself at least you’re guaranteed an interesting conversation. Besides, I was busy planning alliances and engaging in preliminary planning for possible future attacks. Politics, you know, she intoned, managing to project a sense of great self-importance and pompousness. She waved a mental hand dismissively. You wouldn’t understand, being the ignorant, unsophisticated peon that you are. She sniffed at Ally’s look of mock outrage. But that’s all right. You were born that way, so I don’t suppose I should hold it against you.

Ally hooted in mental laughter, some of which spilled over into physical chuckles. Oh, that’s very good. Well, if you’re going to be that way, this ‘ignorant, unsophisticated peon’ might decide not to show you her very, um, sophisticated present when we get home. The deep blush was back, and Evelynne was very intrigued by some of the vague images that leaked out with Ally’s thoughts.

*Well, we can’t have that, can we? I suppose I’ll just have to*

Evelynne’s projection was cut off by a shout for help from Reggie over the music, and both quickly turned in that direction to see the big man awkwardly trying to lower an apparently boneless Claire to the floor. Satisfied that he had gained the attention of others, the cook turned back to his erstwhile dance partner, who was lying prone on the floor, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands over her ears, as her breath escaped in hisses from between her clenched teeth. “Claire? Claire? Are you okay, Claire? Claire, can you hear me?” He obviously didn’t know what to do, and looked up helplessly at the group of approaching people. “Someone call a doctor!”

“No, wait!” The voice was Corey’s, as he pushed through the crowd of concerned onlookers and knelt by his friend’s side, her small bag in his hand. The music that had been playing cut off abruptly, and the sound of Claire’s personal effects being dumped unceremoniously on the floor was loud in the ensuing near silence. “Just wait a second.” Corey’s voice sounded much higher pitched from the stress. He quickly grabbed a pill bottle from the clutter, wrenched the top open, and poured two of the small white tablets inside into his palm. “Everyone just stand back, give her some room.” He looked up at Evelynne and Ally, who had knelt down next to Reggie. “Hold her hand, touch her face,” he instructed all three, taking Claire’s right hand in his own, gently prying it from her ear. “Give her an anchor, let her know where she is.”

They complied, Reggie laying a hesitant hand on Claire’s leg near her knee and squeezing gently, while Evelynne, as confused as anyone as to what was happening, took her left hand and held it, stroking carefully, and Ally used both hands to brush the hair back from Claire’s face, then ran her hands over the prone woman’s forehead and back. Through it all, Corey kept up a constant litany. “Claire, can you hear me? Listen to my voice, Claire. Follow my voice. Feel the people touching you. They’re real, Claire. Follow them back. Right here, Claire

” He continued for over two minutes, though it felt like hours to the watching people, before Claire’s tightly shut eyes began to relax and she opened them to look dazedly at her surroundings. “Hi Claire. Are you back?”

“I

uh

I-I think so,” Claire managed, eliciting a collective sigh of relief from her audience. Her eyes still didn’t completely focus, but then they widened as her surroundings sunk in once more, Ally kneeling by her head and Evelynne and Reggie next to her, and the darker parts of her skin paled. “Oh, shit.”

“It’s okay, Claire,” Corey said soothingly. “Here, let’s help you up.” With Ally’s assistance, he managed to manoeuvre her into a sitting position, and held out his hand containing her pills. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Claire muttered, taking the small white objects from his before tipping them into her mouth, grimacing at the bitter taste. She started when a hand bearing a glass of water suddenly appeared before her, and managed to smile wanly up at Narmin. “Thanks.”

“Okay, let’s get you into a chair,” Corey said, taking charge again. With Ally’s assistance, he managed to help Claire to her shaky feet, and towards one of the armchairs near the side of the room, Evelynne and Reggie in tow.

As he did so, Narmin began moving everyone back, giving them at least a semblance of privacy. “Okay, guys, let’s give ‘em some room, okay?”

Several minutes later, Claire was ensconced as comfortably as possible in a deep overstuffed armchair, overseen by a very attentive Reggie and sipping a glass of ice water, as Corey, Ally and Evelynne talked quietly nearby.

“Is she going to be okay?” Ally asked, casting a glance at the woman in question.

Corey rubbed his face wearily. “Yeah, she’ll be fine for now.”

“So what was it?” Evelynne asked. “If it isn’t too personal.”

“The doctors really aren’t quite sure,” Corey admitted. “It’s kinda like a seizure, but instead of affecting her motor centres and muscles, it hits her memory and perception areas. The way this one doctor described it, parts of her visual and auditory memory go haywire and start sending random messages to her visual and sound processing areas. So she has all these images and sounds in her vision and hearing, and can’t tell which ones are the real ones. She said it’s kind of like looking at the world through about a dozen transparent movie screens, while listening to ten stock sound records at the same time.” He shrugged. “I have a feeling it’s more complicated than that, but it ain’t like she can explain it so that we can really understand.”

“It isn’t permanently damaging, is it?” Evelynne asked, concerned.

“Not as far as the doctors have been able to tell, at least so far. We don’t really know if it’ll get worse, though. Right now it’s really only kind of an inconvenience, no matter how weird it may look. She’s not allowed to drive, obviously, and if she got an attack when she was even riding a bike

” Corey shrugged again. “She’s always careful about taking the stairs, and she won’t take a bath without someone else in the house. The thing is that it is like a seizure, and they’re kind of unpredictable. We don’t know if it’ll ever hit something else. Something vital.” Throughout his explanation, Corey had maintained his matter-of-fact tone with the resigned air of one long used to the facts, but now his voice changed as he rubbed his eyes again, obvious worry coming through. “Like I said, she’s managed to get by so far, and I’ve been around to help for the last few years. But I don’t know what would happen if I wasn’t. Like next month

“

“What about next month?” Ally prompted when he trailed off.

Corey shook himself. “Oh, it’s noth” He stopped on seeing the expression on Evelynne’s face. “Wewe can’t afford to pay rent next month. I used to get a government allowance that paid for most of it, but I

Well, I lost it. Technically, I do have the money to pay for it, but it’ll come out of

Anyway, Claire won’t let me do it. So we don’t have anywhere to go next month, and I’m worried. Now I figure I can handle myself just about anywhere, but I’m really worried about Claire.”

“Nowhere to live?” Evelynne asked, her expression puzzled. “There’s no government housing or anything similar?”

“Not really.”

Evelynne shook her head, anger and disgust in her expression. “Sorry, it’s only that in Atlantl the Nobles are legally bound to provide adequate housing to those who cannot otherwise afford it. It’s not spectacular, but it’s always liveable. I forget sometimes that you don’t have the same here.”

“Well, there are some things like homes and asylums. With her condition, Claire would probably be put into a mental institution, and she won’t do anything like that again. I don’t blame her. We’ve both had enough of those.” He saw the questioning expressions on the faces of the two women opposite him. “Wewe both grew up in homes and orphanages,” he explained quietly. “Claire couldn’t get adopted because of how she looks, and I couldn’t because

Well, anyway.”

“Oh. Well, we” Ally stopped suddenly and looked at Evelynne, as though she had just remembered that there was another thing to consider.

“What, love?” Evelynne asked.

“Oh, well, I was just thinking

I mean, we have that extra bedroom in our apartment, and, well, I was just thinking thatBut of course we’ll have to

” Ally stumbled, obviously thinking she had overstepped her bounds.

Evelynne frowned speculatively. What were you thinking, love?

Well, when I was living at home with my parents, we always had people staying with us. Friends, family. The neighbours’ house burned down once, and they lived with us for two months while their new house was being built. I guess I’m just in the habit of offering people places to stay, and I was thinking that Claire and Corey could stay with us. Even if just for a little while.

“Ah.” Evelynne thought for a moment. While she certainly had no experience with personally offering assistance to victims of misfortune, the Atlantlan ideal of aiding those in need had been bred into the Royal family for centuries, as had the concept of providing their subjects with the necessities of life. And while Claire and Corey weren’t her subjects, they were her friends, which was enough to tip the scales.

Turning back to Corey, who hadn’t quite followed Ally’s tentative suggestion, Evelynne said, “I think what Ally’s suggesting is that we have a spare bedroom in our apartment. We’re using it as a study right now, but we could fix it up for you if you and Claire don’t mind sleeping in the same room.”

Corey’s eyes opened wide. “You mean stay with you? But what about rent?”

Ally waved off the question. “Forget it. Believe me, money really isn’t an issue. And if you really insist, you can do Sophia’s laundry.” She grinned at her lover, pleased that her suggestion had been accepted.

Evelynne glared back. “And you can do Ally’s dishes.” Ally just shrugged in agreement. “So, what do you think?”

“I-I’ll have to talk to Claire,” Corey said weakly, seemingly dazed by the sudden reversal in the fortunes of his friend and himself. “I’ll just go and

” He waved towards his roommate, who had recovered enough to start talking with Reggie once again, and was casting uncertain glances towards the nearby trio. “I’ll let you know, okay?”

Chapter 6

“Corey, we’re heading out now,” Claire said, interrupting the intense conversation her friend was having with Reggie, the head chef. The pair had hit it off almost immediately after Claire’s unfortunate attack, despite the differences in their ages and situations, and had remained thick as thieves for the remainder of the evening. It did Claire’s heart good to know that her friend had discovered another acquaintance, and she reflected that the evening had truly been a godsend. Not only had she and Corey discovered a wealth of new potential friends, who seemed willing to accept them both as they were even after as dramatic a demonstration as Claire’s attack, but Ally’s and Sophia’s unexpected offer of a place to stay meant that she and Corey would not have to find a shelter after all, or dip into Corey’s carefully hoarded funds. There was one more thing she would have to discuss with her new benefactors, but given how they had reacted so far she was optimistic that it would prove no problem. Coming back to herself, she saw that Corey and Reggie were looking at her expectantly. “Sorry. Ally and Sophia are leaving now, and they’re going to drop me off on their way home. Are you coming with us, Cor?”

“Right, ‘dropping you off.’” Corey leered, his voice slightly slurred from the alcohol he had consumed. It wasn’t nearly as much as some of those present had imbibedlike Jean, who was currently lying passed out in a pile of limbs on one of the couchesbut it was more than enough to loosen all his inhibitions. Not that he was the master of restraint at the best of times, Claire mused with humour. “Is that what they’re calling it now?” he said suggestively. “You really mean you’re going off to have wild three-way lesbian sex for the rest of the night.”

Reggie’s eyebrows rose high on his balding head, and Claire was incredibly grateful for the dim lighting which covered both her deep blush and her involuntary glance towards the two attractive women in question.

“Of course, that’s what I meant,” she said, forcing exasperation into her tone to cover up her embarrassment. “Do you want to join us?”

Corey’s comical shudder was nearly sufficient payment for his teasing. “Good God, no. No, you go on. I’m going to stay for a while longer. Reggie said he’d give me a ride home.” The cook nodded in agreement.

“Okay,” Claire said. She hesitated. “I was going to tell them about

” She trailed off with a vague hand gesture. “Unless you want to.”

Corey sobered slightly, in demeanour, if not in condition. “No, that’s fine,” he said. “Go ahead. I have a feeling it’ll be okay.”

“Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Or later today, I suppose.”

“You bet. Say, ‘Happy Birthday,’ to Ally again for me.”

“Here she comes,” Evelynne murmured as she finished zipping up her light coat and looked up to see Claire approaching. “He’s not coming?” she asked when the other woman entered earshot.

“No, he’s sticking around for a while longer.”

“All right,” Evelynne said as now her lover came back from where she had been saying farewell to Narmin. “So, are we set?”

“Good to go,” Ally agreed, hefting her bags of gifts, and Claire nodded as well.

“All right. So where do you live?” Evelynne asked, exiting the door that Ally held for her, giving a final wave to their hostess.

“On Ballie Street,” Claire replied.

Evelynne looked at Ally, who took a split second to look up the street on the map of the town she had memorised. “That way,” the taller woman said, pointing down the street to the left. “About a twenty minute walk.”

“Yeah,” Claire said, not particularly surprised, having become used to displays of her friend’s exquisite memory over the last few weeks. A hint of uncertainty entered her tone. “Look, you really don’t have to walk me all the way. I can get back no problem.”

“No, we’d feel much better knowing you’re back home safe and sound,” Evelynne said firmly.

“Yeah, besides, it’s a magnificent night for

walking,” Ally added, with a sly grin, and a subtle hand motion that only her lover noticed.

Evelynne grinned back and looked up at the clear sky and the millions of stars visible even through the lights of the town. “Oh yes. Perfect for

walking.” She slipped an arm through her partner’s and hugged it to her body.

Claire watched the display of affection with some discomfort. She could tell that there was some inside joke or meaning to the banter, and couldn’t help feeling a little jealous. Not that she begrudged them their relationship in any way; she only had to look at them to see how much they adored each other and how happy they were together. However, it was that very closeness that Claire envied, and it made it even more obvious that it was lacking in her own life. And now, of course, I’m going to be living with them both, at least for a while, she thought. And it’s not enough that I have a crush on one of them; no, now I might just have a crush on both of them. And they’re irrevocably involved with each other. Claire tried to inject some humour into her own thoughts, but was still aware of the underlying sadness.Well, I’ll live. I suppose it’s great fantasy material at any rate.

Coming back to herself, Claire realised that her companions had grown silent, and that there was a subtle tension in the air. “Is something wrong?” she asked hesitantly as they all kept walking, uncertain whether she had been caught staring.

“I think your friends from earlier are back,” Ally murmured, glancing behind surreptitiously.

A chill ran through Claire’s body as she also looked behind her. Sure enough, the five young people, high school students by their dress and appearance, seemed to be following them about fifteen meters back, and in the light of a nearby streetlamp they appeared to have been joined by two or three friends. Decked out in a motley collection of leather jackets, baggy pants, chains, and scarves, the youths were obviously attempting, with questionable success, to mimic a gang from a much larger city, which would have been funny if Claire wasn’t so scared.

One of the gang, seeing her looking, grinned evilly at her.

“What do we do?” Claire asked in a low voice, unable to completely suppress the quiver in it. The trio was currently walking through Horton City’s small business district, which meant that there were no houses and, at this time of night, no other people from whom to seek assistance. A glance at Ally and Sophia showed that they appeared surprisingly unworried.

“Hey guys, look. It’s the freak.” The de facto leader of the gang pitched his voice so that the three women could easily hear. “And she got some fuckin’ lezzie friends. You a lezzie too, freak? Maybe me and my friends can help you fuckin’ dykes with your problems.” He grabbed at his crotch suggestively, while his fellow delinquents laughed, and one began playing with a switchblade. They started slowly closing the gap.

“This is so stereotypical it’s pathetic,” Ally muttered.

Claire looked at her, surprised at the total lack of fear in her voice. Sophia was looking at her partner, and one of Ally’s eyebrows quirked in question. Her girlfriend nodded, barely perceptibly.

“Just keep walking,” Sophia told Claire, as the sounds of the boys behind them grew louder as the distance between them closed. One of the youths made some comment that had his companions laughing. Claire saw Ally and Sophia look behind themselves at the same time and turned her head as well, still lacking the fearlessness the other women appeared to possess.

She was just in time to see the leader of the gang, still in the process of making some remark to his cronies, complete with highly graphic hand gestures, trip over his own feet and crash headfirst into an empty aluminum garbage can that had been placed by a lamppost. It didn’t end there, however, as the can bounced at a highly improbable angle, careened off the lamppost, sailed over the prone leader, and struck the boy who had been walking behind him square in the face. The unfortunate youth collapsed, more in surprise than pain, managing to take down the boys walking on either side of him in a tangle of limbs. The crash of the metal trash can hitting the sidewalk was not particularly loud, but the two youths who had managed to remain upright abruptly clapped their hands over their ears, their expressions ones of pain and

fear?

“Oops,” Ally said mildly, and the surprise in her tone was affected to Claire’s ears. “I think they might have been drinking or something.”

“Maybe,” Sophia agreed.

The three women stopped and watched as the boys helped each other up and then, obviously deciding that discretion was needed, began to reverse their course down the street. Those who had fallen were cursing volubly and cradling bruised flesh, but at least one of the others was oddly silent, and cast a wide-eyed, unfathomable expression at the three women before the group disappeared down an alley.

“Well,” Ally said a moment later, “that was interesting.”

“Uh, yeah,” Claire said. “It was

weird.” Despite her words, there was a tremor in her voice.

“Are you all right?” Sophia asked, laying a concerned hand on her arm, frowning when she felt the slight shaking in the limb.

“Um

yeah.” Claire drew in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve just had experiences with gangs before. Nothing major,” she assured her friends, “just some name-calling, pushing and stuff.”

“That’s major enough,” Sophia said, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders and starting down the street once again. Ally took up a position on Claire’s right. “But I don’t think that particular gang will be bothering you again.”

“They weren’t even really a gang,” Ally added. “They were more of a mini-gang. A gangling.”

Sophia looked up at her partner, an amused smile playing about her lips. “‘Gangling’? Is that a real word?”

Claire couldn’t help but smile as Ally shrugged dismissively. “Of course it is,” Sophia’s girlfriend stated confidently. “A baby duck is a duckling, so logically a baby gang is a gangling. What else are you going to call it?”

“I don’t know,” Claire replied, hardly even noticing how her friends had managed to soothe her reaction to the incident. “Maybe a ganglet?”

“Maybe, maybe,” Ally allowed, nodding her head solemnly. “In that case, would an all-women gang be a gangess?”

Sophia arched an eyebrow at her girlfriend. “Been thinking a lot about all-women gangs, have you?”

This time Claire laughed out loud as Ally spluttered her protests.

The remainder of the walk to Claire’s apartment passed by uneventfully. Evelynne and Ally had insisted on walking Claire all the way up to her door, remembering Corey’s description of some of the risks inherent in her condition.

“You going to be okay?” Ally asked as Claire stood in her open doorway.

Claire nodded. “I’ll be fine,” she said, then paused. “There’sThere’s something you should know. Y’know, if Corey and I are going to be staying with you. It’sWell, Corey’s actually a transsexual. He’s really, well, physically a she.”

Ally’s eyes widened and she looked stunned. Sophia just nodded. “Jean knew him from some events they’ve both been to.”

“I never guessed,” Ally murmured. “It never even crossed my mind.”

“He’ll take that as a compliment,” Claire said. “So, is this a problem?” she asked hesitantly.

“Not at all,” Sophia said firmly, and her partner nodded.

“No, I was just surprised. I’ll still give you a call in the next couple of days to talk moving arrangements.”

Claire smiled broadly, her relief obvious. “I’ll be waiting.”

Back on the street, Ally and Evelynne walked casually down the sidewalk away from Claire’s apartment building. Ally had a thoughtful expression on her face when Evelynne looked up at her.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, squeezing her partner’s warm hand in her own.

“Pardon? Oh, I was just thinking about Corey.” Ally shook her head slowly.

“It really surprised you, didn’t it? That he’s a transsexual.”

“It did,” Ally admitted. “It never even crossed my mind. I mean, you know how I get impressions of people, right?” Evelynne nodded. A side effect of Ally’s empathic ability was that she usually picked up a “feeling” about people she met, even when she wasn’t actively scanning them. “Well, it’s just that Corey’s so completely male. Which makes sense, since I’m picking up his psyche, after all. It never occurred to me to look at his body, if you know what I mean.”

Evelynne nodded. One of the things that made Ally so accepting, she thought, was that whenever she did meet someone she was much more in tune with their psyche, their soul, the thing that made them who they were inside, at least on a subconscious level, than their physical appearance. “I understand,” she said. “I admit it surprised me when Jean told me. He’s just so

Yes, male is a good word. AWhat’s the word?a ‘flaming gay’ male, but still

“

Ally laughed. “As my friend Pat would say, ‘So gay he wraps right around into straight again.’” Evelynne looked puzzled. “Think about it. Physically he’s a woman, and he’s definitely attracted to men, so technically he could be said to be straight. But he identifies as a gay man, so

” She drew a circle in the air.

Evelynne’s face cleared. “Ah, I see. Your friend Pat, she was almost the opposite, wasn’t she?”

Ally nodded. “Before she transitioned, she was technically a man attracted to women, but she identified sexually as a lesbian.” She shook her head ruefully. “And people think there are only two genders. Even genetically that isn’t true.”

“No?”

“Last I heard, scientists had identified at least thirteen different combinations of the X and Y chromosomes occurring in nature. So genetically, anyway, there are at least thirteen different genders.”

“I didn’t know that.” Evelynne thought for a moment, then laughed softly. “You realise that if someone had told me before I met you that these would be the kind of people I’d be calling my friends and be socializing with I’d have laughed at them. Politely, of course, but I’d have still laughed.”

“You aren’t sorry, are you?”

“Oh, Isis, no! I’m just thinking of what would happen if some reporter managed to track down where we’d been and what we’d been doing once we get back home.”

“Would that be a problem?”

Evelynne shrugged. “No, I don’t think so.” She laughed again. “Nobody would believe him anyway!”

“Well, that was an eventful evening,” Ally said, as she got ready for bed finally. She was towelling her hair dry after a quick shower, and her lover was already in bed watching her with sleepy yet appreciative eyes.

“That it was,” Evelynne agreed, secretly pleased when Ally casually removed the towel wrapped around herself without even a hint of hesitation. It was a far cry from the woman who had been nearly terrified to be seen naked after their first night together. “You sound like you had fun.”

“I did,” Ally admitted, turning out the light and finding her way to the bed as she talked. There was a pause as she placed her glasses on the side table, and then she climbed under the light covers, taking up her customary position wrapped around Evelynne’s back. She sighed as she burrowed into the familiar warmth. “What about you? Did you have fun slumming with the peons?”

“Hey!” Evelynne protested, lightly elbowing her bedmate in the ribs. “I’ve been working with these ‘peons’ for a while now, you know. I’m even engaged to one. Or at least I was.” Her tone dropped to a playfully threatening edge.

Ally just grinned, her intimate contact with her lover letting her feel the humour in Evelynne’s thoughts. “Oh, I’m sure your errant fianc?e will be able to convince you to take her back,” she murmured, using her hand to draw light, teasing circles on her partner’s belly. She paused to yawn widely. “Although maybe not tonight.” She squinted at the curtained window, seeing the telltale natural light that indicated that dawn was not far off. “Or this morning, or whatever the heck it is.”

“I’ll hold her to that,” Evelynne said, smiling. “She still needs to show me that mysterious gift from Jean.” She grinned more widely as she felt the body behind her flush. “You know, this isn’t how I ever imagined spending your birthday.”

“Mmm?” Ally made a sleepy questioning sound.

“I’d actually planned to take you to see Cirque de Soleil. They’re touring Atlantl this summer. Then afterwards we’d have a quiet, romantic picnic dinner, preferably in our grotto.”

“Sounds perfect,” Ally murmured. “I’ve never seen Cirque de Soleil before. Live, anyway.” She chuckled. “Instead, we spent it with your boss and co-workers, dancing and singing karaoke. And finished it off by scaring the pants off a bunch of high school delinquents.”

“Actually, did you see that one boy? His pants were half off already.” Evelynne giggled at the memory. “That was a neat trick with the trash can, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Ally said, smiling wryly into the back of Evelynne’s neck, and musing on the surrealism of lying in bed and discussing the psychogenic subdual of ruffians so matter-of-factly. “What did you project at them, anyway? I think that one kid might have wet his pants.”

“I just ‘yelled’ at them to leave us alone. I think. I also tried to throw some anger as well. Of course, I have no idea exactly what they ‘heard’.”

One of the discoveries about Evelynne’s telepathic talent that they had made through experimentation was that every person heard her mental voice differently. While most “heard” Evelynne’s “words” clearly, as though she was speaking aloud, it was a cold, unemotional voice; Sir Arthur Ramirez had characterised it as listening to a computer speaking. On the other hand, Ally’s mother could more easily sense the emotions and pure concepts, as could Ally herself, and Ally’s father couldn’t “hear” anything at all. Evelynne’s brother, Patrick, had even reported seeing some sort of halo surrounding his sister when she projected, something that was unseen by anyone else. Ally actually thought it made sense, speculating that Evelynne was directly stimulating people’s sensory cortices. Since everyone processed that data differently, it made sense that the end results would be different for each person.

“Well, whatever they heard, it worked.” Ally could feel sleep pulling at her, and could feel Evelynne likewise succumbing.

Happy birthday, love, Evelynne said, forgoing conventional speech. And thank you for a wonderful flight.

Ally didn’t reply, but she smiled as she took the words, and the emotion behind them, down with her into sleep.

Chapter 7

“Well, I suppose that’s it.” Claire looked around the tiny apartment that she and Corey had called home for the last ten months. Never opulent at the best of times, now it was positively spartan without even the few homey touches they had managed to add. Those touches, along with everything else Claire and Corey owned, were now packed in a few boxes that were waiting near the door. The meagre size of those boxes made Claire a little self-conscious as she cast a quick glance at her companion standing beside her.

“I suppose so,” Ally said, not noticing the surreptitious look. “Not a lot to take, huh?”

“Well, if it ever came down to buying ‘stuff’ or eating for the week, there wasn’t really much of a decision,” Claire replied, unable to completely keep the defensiveness out of her voice.

Ally picked up on it, and looked at her in surprise. “Don’t worry, I remember being a dirt-poor starving student myself. Actually, if you didn’t count my books, at one point I probably had less than this. Of course, I’ve picked up a few more things since then.” Like a mansion, two hundred million dollars or so, the Crown of the Heir Consort of Atlantl. Little things.

Claire waved away the explanation. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just a bit off today.” In reality, she was half waiting for the other shoe to drop, still not quite believing how much her life had changed recently. From a single friend, an unquestioned outcast status, and an uncertain day-to-day existence, Claire now had at least two more easygoing friendships, a new living arrangement, and a sense of real hope for the first time in years.

Ally just nodded sympathetically, seeming to understand the unspoken words. She was well acquainted with sudden, unexpected changes in fortune. “Will you miss this place?” she asked.

“No, it’s a rathole,” Claire dismissed. “It’s freezing in the winter, and broiling in the summer, as you can tell.” That was true. The heat inside the apartment had both women glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Claire couldn’t help but notice how it made Ally’s skin glow, especially since the other woman was dressed only in a tank top and shorts. She realised she was staring, and covered it by wiping her own hand across her brow. “And the alley out back lets in some truly interesting smells when the window’s open.”

“So that’s what that is.”

“Yep. So should we get outta here?”

“We should,” Ally agreed, turning to the modest pile of boxes. She selected one that was filled with books, and Claire blinked as she lifted it easily. “This should only take a few trips.” The tall woman headed out the door.

She must work out, Claire thought to herself, picking up a box of her own.

She made her way down the short, equally sweltering hallway, down the decrepit stairs at the end, and out the front door into the hot summer sun. A small older model car was waiting, and Ally was already placing her own load into the trunk. The vehicle was a loan from Jean, Sophia’s co-worker. Ally’s partner wasn’t here to help, because said co-worker was currently at home with a stomach ailment, leaving Sophia to cover her shift. In an unfortunate coincidence, Corey was also filling in at the last moment for an ill compatriot, leaving Ally and Claire to deal with the moving on their own. Somehow, Claire couldn’t find it in herself to be disappointed.

She knew she would have to deal with her attraction to the other young woman eventually, especially now that they would be living together under the same roofand with Ally’s lover, no lessbut for now she at least had it under control. Mostly. Claire caught herself staring while Ally lifted another box smoothly into the trunk, and quickly looked away, almost missing Ally’s sudden wince as she straightened.

“Are you okay?”

Ally nodded, gingerly massaging her back with one hand. “Yeah, I’m fine. I

hurt my back pretty badly about a year ago, and it acts up every now and then.”

“Oh, sorry. Um, is there anything I can do?”

Ally shook her head. “No, not really. I just have to take it easy until it passes.”

“Okay. Well, I think we just have a couple of small boxes left, so why don’t you relax while I bring them down? Really, I can manage,” Claire assured her when Ally looked about to protest.

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“Yep, no prob. I’ll drop off my key while I’m at it. Save you from the misfortune of meeting my landlord.”

True to her word, Claire was back a few minutes later, carrying the two boxes, which she quickly stowed in the trunk, now nearly filled to capacity.

Ally was leaning against the car, letting its sun-warmed metal soothe her back. “You survived,” she said.

“Actually, he wasn’t around,” Claire replied. “I just slipped the keys under the door.”

“A bonus.” Ally opened the driver’s side door and slipped into the seat, wincing at the oven-like temperature inside. Claire got in the passenger’s side, and winced as well, although her discomfort was tempered by the relief at being out of the sun. She could already feel the lighter portions of her skin beginning to feel hot and tender.

They both rolled down the windows to allow a breeze through. Ally started the car, and then turned to her companion. “Well, did you want to go and unload this right now, or maybe stop for some lunch first?” she asked.

“Lunch is good.” Claire nodded.

“We can go pick up some sandwiches and head over to Faith Park,” Ally suggested, putting the car into gear and pulling out.

Faith Park was a local municipal area, which straddled Meshoppen Creek, a modest local waterway that eventually joined up with the larger Susquehanna River about a hundred kilometres downstream. It was a beautiful, popular locale, frequented by many of Horton City’s inhabitants, who took advantage of the cool river during the hot summer months.

Claire hesitated. “That sounds good, but maybe we could go somewhere else instead?”

“Why?” Ally asked. “It’s got plenty of shade, so you don’t have to worry about the sun.”

Claire smiled uncertainly, her pleasure at Ally’s consideration warring with the real reason for her trepidation. “Yeah, it’s not the sun,” she admitted. “It’s just that there are always a lot of people there, and it can get uncomfortable.”

“Really? You’ve had problems?” Ally sounded surprised.

“Not really problems, but people tend to stare, and it’s just not fun.” Claire shrugged dismissively, but her real feelings were obvious.

“Oh, okay,” Ally said. “Well, there’s another place close by that’s usually deserted. EvSophia and I found it a couple of weeks back.” She cursed herself mentally for the near slip, hoping her companion hadn’t noticed.

“Okay,” Claire said, apparently oblivious to the stumble.

The next twenty minutes were spent stopping at a local deli, where they picked up a couple of submarine sandwiches, and driving to the secluded spot by the river. It was as Ally had promised: a secluded wooded area, free of other people, but close enough to Faith Park that the shouts and squeals of children could still be heard. It wasn’t quite as comfortable, lacking the tended lawns and facilities of the Park, but there was still enough shaded grass for Claire and Ally to sit and relax.

“Mmm, I’m starving,” Ally murmured, stretching her long legs out in front of her and leaning back against the maple tree. Claire watched in awe as she reached into the plastic bag and drew out an enormous sandwich.

“Obviously.” Claire looked down at her own much more modest lunch. “Well, you deserve it,” she said. “I think you took all the boxes of books down.” Ally just shrugged, her mouth full of bread, salami, lettuce, pickles, olives, onions, banana peppers and cheese. “Talking of, how’s your back?”

Ally chewed and swallowed. “Okay, now. Don’t tell Sophia, though.” She grinned. “If I play it up I can probably get a massage out of it.”

Claire laughed as well. “My lips are sealed. So how did you hurt it in the first place?”

This question caused Ally to shift uncomfortably, and she delayed answering by finishing another mouthful as she considered her response. “I

um

got in a fight,” she said finally.

Claire gaped incredulously. She wasn’t expecting an answer like that from a woman as apparently gentle and self-effacing as Ally. “A fight?” she blurted. “You?”

Ally blushed deeply. “Yeah. It was

Sophia was in trouble, and II sort of came to the rescue.”

Ah, Claire thought, now that I can see. Anyone threatening Sophia would have to watch out. She nodded. “So what did they hit you with?”

Ally looked even more uncomfortable. “Um

a bullet.”

Claire’s jaw dropped again. “You’re kidding me.” She saw the obvious discomfort on Ally’s face. “You got shot?!”

“Yeah.” Ally was looking anywhere but at her. “Do you mind if we don’t talk about it? It’s just

“

“Sorry, yeah. I neverSorry.”

“It’s okay. I just

“

“No, really. No problem.”

The two women lapsed into a slightly uncomfortable silence, choosing instead to concentrate on eating. Wow, Claire thought, still stunned. She was shot, saving Sophia from

something. That’s so romantic. She glanced at her companion, seeing remembered pain in Ally’s faraway gaze. Or maybe not. It must have been excruciating. And terrifying.

There was silence, broken only by the quiet rush of the nearby river, until Ally cleared her throat. “I managed to find a copy of that book you recommended. The one on G?del’s Incompleteness Theorem?”

Claire took the change in subject in stride, happily falling back into their normal, casual friendship. “Oh, yeah? What do you think?”

“It’s interesting. I like the way the author brings so many topics together. Math, art, music, literature. It also has some really interesting implications for physics, too

“

“Whew, just made it,” Corey gasped as he flopped down into his customary seat next to Claire in their Advanced Real Analysis class. “A customer knocked over a display of canned soup, and I had to stick around to help clean up.”

“No problem,” Claire replied. “You’re actually about five minutes early.”

“Really?” Corey peered at his watch and tapped the face. “Damn, this thing’s fast again. Oh well.” He began to take his notebooks and pens from his bag. “So did you manage to get everything moved okay? Sorry I couldn’t help you, by the way.”

“No problem,” Claire repeated. “It ain’t like we had a whole lot to move. Besides, Sophia had to cover for someone at her job, too, so it was just Ally and me.”

Corey grinned suggestively. “Really? That must have been fun.”

Claire shot her friend a dirty look. “It was, actually. Just not in the way you’re implying. And informative, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

Claire looked around and, even though nobody was paying them the slightest attention, leaned towards Corey and dropped her voice. “Did you know she was shot?” She felt a little guilty revealing something that Ally obviously did not want published, but knew that Corey was the soul of discretion, at least when it came to “important” topics.

Her friend gaped at her, much as she had looked at Ally that afternoon. “You’re kidding me. Ally?”

“Yeah. I didn’t get any details, but apparently she was hit in the back protecting Sophia in some kind of fight. It still bothers her sometimes.”

“Holy shit,” Corey breathed. He stared into space for several minutes. “So she was just hit once?”

Claire frowned. “I think so. It’s not like she offered to show me her scars or anything,” she said defensively.

“No, I just thought for a moment

Never mind. Sorry. And don’t worry, I won’t say anything to anyone.” Corey smiled reassuringly.

“Thanks.” Claire smiled back.

Just then the professor came in, pre-empting further conversation in favour of concentration as they strove to understand the challenging subject.

“Here we are.” Claire looked at the now-familiar door to Ally’s and Sophia’s apartment and hesitated. “Do we knock? I have a key.”

Corey shrugged. “We’re living here now.”

“Yeah, but still

” Coming to decision, Claire reached out and knocked lightly on the door.

There was silence for a moment, and then the sound of footsteps could be heard moving towards the doorway. Ally opened the door a second later. Ally was casually dressed in shorts and a loose Babylon 5T-shirt.

“Claire, Corey, you’re here. Please, come in,” Ally greeted in a quiet tone, holding the door open and beckoning them inside. “You didn’t have to knock, you know.”

“Yeah, well

” Claire shrugged as she and Corey divested themselves of shoes. “It felt a little weird to just barge in.”

“Well, from now on, our home is yours. Damuk’ne damuk’t’es.” Ally frowned. “I know I’m mangling that final glottal stop, but I just can’t get it right.” She shook her head to clear it of the tangential thought. “Anyway, come on in.”

She led them into the middle of the living room, giving Corey a chance to examine the room. He had seen it briefly a few days previously, but hadn’t had the opportunity to take in the full effect.

It was actually a modest space, a square roughly six metres on a side, with a set of patio doors directly opposite the main door. A simple but comfortable-looking brown couch faced the left wall, in front of an impressive entertainment system. A couple of other matching armchairs bracketed the sofa around a low glass-topped coffee table. Several framed picture prints, at least two by well-known Atlantlan artists, graced the walls, attesting to Sophia’s touch in the decorating of the apartment, although at least one, an abstract work which made Claire dizzy if she looked at it too long, showed Ally’s influence. It was a comfortable room, Claire decided, although she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was still only a temporary residence, as though its inhabitants knew they wouldn’t be staying long.

On the right, a doorway, and a large counter-topped opening, opened onto the small kitchen/dining room, while a hall on the left led to the bathroom and bedrooms.

“Say,” Ally said, “are you hungry? I made some macaroni and cheese, and there’s still quite a bit left.”

“Sure, that sounds good,” Corey replied, and Claire nodded as well.

“Okay, I’ll go and heat it up,” Ally said, walking into the kitchen. “Make yourselves at home. Just keep the noise down, okay? Sophia’s already gone to bed.”

“Sure thing,” Corey agreed. “Is she feeling okay?” he asked from the doorway to the kitchen.

Ally shrugged a little uncomfortably, and continued stirring the pot on the stove. “She had a bad day at work today. They were shorthanded and it was a long shift. She had some problems with a couple of customers, too. And she came home and weWell, we kind of had a bit of a fight. It was just not a good day.”

“Oh. Are you two okay?” Claire asked tentatively. She felt a little surprised at how bad she felt that they were fighting.

“Yeah. It’s just been one of those days, you know? The chi just hasn’t been flowing right.” Ally waved in the direction of the living room. “I was just doing some kung fu forms to try to get it flowing again.”

“Well, do you want to go and be with her?” Claire asked. “We can settle ourselves in if you’d like.”

“Do you mind? You know where your room is, and feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” Although she obviously tried to hide it, Ally looked almost pathetically grateful for the opportunity.

“Go,” Corey said firmly. “We can take care of ourselves.”

With a final thank you, Claire and Corey watched Ally make her way down the hall. They listened as she made a detour to the bathroom, and then heard the door to her and Sophia’s room open and close. A bit of almost inaudible speech followed, but it was soon replaced with silence.

The food now reheated, Corey spooned generous helpings into two bowls, then ran some water into the empty pot. He and Claire took seats at the tiny kitchen table and began to dig in. “I feel bad for her,” Corey said quietly, mindful of the now silent apartment. “Sophia, I mean.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “I saw on the news that they held the first mass memorial service for the victims of the Atlantean invasion today. I know she had friends who died, and I think she wanted to be there.”

Claire felt a sharp pang of sympathy. “I wonder why she didn’t go back.”

“I don’t know,” Corey replied, although he had an odd, contemplative expression on his face. He shook it off. “It’s gotta be hard for her, though.”

“Inti, eni, please be seated,” Queen Cleo of Atlantl said as she rounded her desk to seat herself behind it. “I’m sorry I’m late, but I had to make arrangements to go to I-Hul-Kan this afternoon.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Colonel Dame Grace Al’Tryg, the Queen’s Intelligence Advisor, said, and the four other people present murmured similar responses. The fact that, at seven-thirty in the morning, the Queen was already half an hour behind schedule didn’t faze any of them in the slightest. Even in the best of situations the Diarchs’ schedules tended to be highly flexible, and the events of the last few months had exacerbated that condition exponentially. Certain meetings, such as this one, the Queen’s daily intelligence briefing, were kept as close to their scheduled times as possible, but all too often the rest of her day’s plan on paper bore only a passing resemblance to reality.

The Queen briskly looked through the small stack of papers and memos on her deskit would grow tremendously as the day wore onflipped through one file folder briefly, and then put it down and sighed. “Well, let’s get started, shall we?” she said, placing a small device on her desk and pressing a button on its side, and a high-pitched whine filled the room, quickly rising beyond the range of human hearing. The sophisticated mass of electronics, designed to render any bugging devices at least temporarily inoperative, would have been considered overkill considering the amount of security surrounding both Diarchs’ offices only a few months ago. However, before that time, nobody had even guessed the extent to which some groupstill at largehad obviously penetrated that security. Now it had become another fact of life in the Palace.

“Of course, Madam,” Dame Grace said, opening her own locked briefcase while the others present readied their own materials.

“All right. Jeffrey, what’s the military situation?”

Admiral Sir Jeffrey Clayton, who had once commanded the entire Lyonesse Fleet before being elected the Queen’s Military Advisor, nodded acknowledgement. “Nothing critical, Madam. So far we’ve discovered another fourteen pieces of unexploded ordinance left over from the Invasion.” Those bombs had been intendedand had partially succeededto throw the country’s emergency services into confusion when the armed invaders attacked. Not all had exploded, and now those same services were engaged in a massive hunt for the still-dangerous devices. “It’s slow going, mostly because they can beanywhere. One of the latest we found was in a freezer on the RAS Hummingbird.” He smiled without humour. “Frankly, Madam, I think it’s unlikely that we’ll ever find them all.”

“I know, Jeffrey. We can only try.”

“We will, Madam. On the strategic front, the American Sixteenth Fleet is continuing its war games near our territorial waters off Lyonesse. I’ve, ah, taken the liberty of suggesting Admiral Mulungi schedule a series of submarine torpedo tests out of Tolena Base. The information has been ‘accidentally’ leaked to the commander of the American fleet.” This time his grin was that of a wolf. “We wouldn’t want them to get too bored, Madam.”

“Of course not,” Queen Cleo said, and then turned serious. “What are the chances of there actually being an incident?”

“Low, Madam. The subs involved are under strict orders to take every possible precaution to avoid hitting anyone else. On the other hand, the dummy ships they are firing at will be easily visible to any of the Americans’ reconnaissance aircraft, which should cool their commander’s ardour.”

“Good.” The Queen made a note on her notepad in her own shorthand, which would certainly baffle anyone but the very best codebreaker. She turned to Dame Grace. “Grace, what do you have?”

“Helena will give you a domestic report, Madam,” Dame Grace replied, and the woman in question, a sweet-faced, cheerful looking woman whom nobody would ever have guessed was the head of the country’s Internal Security Agency, nodded. “I can report that we’re still making very limited progress in tracking down the organisation behind the Invaders.”

“You’re still running into the same problems?”

“Yes, Madam. It wasishighly cellular, and none of the cells knows much beyond what it has to. No one we’ve been able to interrogate even knows anything beyond their own immediate contacts. That usually means a long, involved chase as we work our way up the food chain, but in this case a lot of those contacts are simply gone.” The Colonel shook her head, her face grim. “This is suggesting to me that someone is tipping them off that we’re onto them. And that suggests to me that ISA and the Guard are still compromised. What I plan to do is do the same thing to them. I’m creating a special task force, headed by Colonel Ramirez and comprised of agents he picks. His reports will be for my eyes only, and will be hand-delivered by him as well. It will be a bit cumbersome, especially if he needs to head out into the field, but it’s the only way I can guarantee the confidentiality of his reports.”

The Queen nodded. Colonel Sir Arthur Ramirez had been at one time the Master of the Heir’s Guard. He was also an empath and partial precognitive, although that fact was known only to a very few members of the Guard. Those talents had been invaluable as the investigation into the shadow organisation went on, with his ability to detect lies and guilt better than any lie detector. So far he had mainly used his gifts to clear certain members of the government and security agencies of suspicion, thereby creating a trusted core of officials who were in charge of investigating the attacks. Now it appeared that Dame Grace wanted to extend his talents into field work. While it would have been nice to have a dozen agents with his abilityor, better yet, Alleandre Tretiak’s full mind-reading talentthe Queen trusted her Intelligence Advisor to make the best use of his skills.

“Very well. Now, what’s the status of Project Geranin?”

“Well, Madam,” the Advisor said, “there’s nothing, absolutely nothing. We have nothing, at least in terms of positive results.”

Queen Cleo’s brows rose. She was surprised but pleased. In this case, having nothing in the way of data was actually a good thing. The Geranin Protocol, the guidelines under which Princess Evelynne and Dame Alleandre had gone into hiding, had several aspects. One, of course, was to hide the sole Heir to the Throne in a foreign nation, presumably safe from any domestic dangers. It was positively labyrinthine, planting many false trails and utilising every possible means of obscuring the truth of the Heir’s location. However, the current situation was different, because the Queen’s niece and her fianc?e were not, strictly speaking, using the Geranin Protocol. Or rather, they were, but only as yet another decoy. In fact, they had not gone through the “normal” Guard channels, after the extent to which those channels could have been compromised became clear. Each of the Guard teams charged with laying a false trail and spiriting a false “Evelynne” to safety thought that the real one was with one of the others, when she was actually with none. There were only three people in the entire Realm who knew where the Heir and her Consort really were, and Queen Cleo was one of them.

However, another aspect of the Geranin Protocol was the creation of a special Guard project, reporting directly to the Diarchs and completely separate from the other sections, dedicated to finding out the location of the hidden Heir. It might have sounded odd to outsiders, but the rationale was that if a group of agents with the backing of the entire Guard at their disposal couldn’t find the fugitives, it was unlikely, but not impossible, that another group could. On the other hand, if the Geranin Project was able to discover their location, additional security measures should obviously be taken.

“Really? Nothing?”

“Nothing, Madam.” Dame Grace’s tone mingled frustration and grudging respect. “All I can tell you now is that they have not entered either Western Europe or North America through any legitimate channels: airports, seaports, border crossings. We’ve done complete searches, and neither their names nor faces turn up in any immigration records, photographs, or video footage. We’re currently working on South American countries, Eastern Europe, and the League of West African Nations. We also checked out Botswana, based on Lady Alleandre’s ties to Mr Tladi, but without results. Obviously just because there are no records doesn’t mean there are no ways in, but it’s rare to find a trail this devoid of evidence. Frankly, Madam, I’m impressed. I never suspected that Lady Alleandre was this resourceful.”

“Yes, she is resourceful, isn’t she?” the Queen murmured with an expression of bemused humour. “A very talented young woman.” She shook her head. “So basically what you’re telling me is that you know where she and my niece didn’t go openly.”

“Exactly, Madam. And, of course, once they’re inside a country it’s easy to disappear. They could rent a cabin in the middle of the Canadian Rockies and be virtually invisible.”

“True.” But because you know it you’ll be looking especially in places like that. It’s even easier to disappear into a crowd

the bigger the better. “Very well, then. Anything else?”

“Not from me, Madam. Helena’s got the domestic side of things today.”

“All right, Helena, what have you got for me?

Chapter 8

Alleandre was engaged in one of her favourite activities: she was watching Evelynne sleep. It wasn’t something she often was able to do, since by habit her lover usually awoke before she did, which meant that whenever she did, she was careful never to do anything to shorten the experience.

Right now Ally was lying on her side in the bed, simply running her eyes over her partner’s slumbering features inches from her own face. A part of her desperately wanted to stroke the beloved face with her fingers, but she knew that doing so would disturb the sleeper, so she remained still, listening to and feeling warm breath on her cheeks.

Now, though, somewhere in the back of her mind, tickling along her link with Evelynne, came the knowledge that her bedmate was waking up. She had never been able to adequately explain exactly how she knew those kinds of things, although Evelynne, at the other end of the link, knew how it felt. It felt to Ally as though she herself was the one waking, but at some indefinable remove, more as though she wasremembering feeling Evelynne wake up.

Now, with the desire to let Evelynne sleep no longer so urgent, Ally let herself raise her hand and gently stroke soft skin, starting with Evelynne’s forehead and trailing down the side of her face to her chin. She carefully brushed her fingers over short flame-red hair as her lover wrinkled her nose slightly and made an ever-so-faint interrogative noise. Ally couldn’t help but grin at the sound, and continued smiling as Evelynne’s eyes opened sleepily.

“Good morning,” Ally murmured, still trailing her fingers down the side of her lover’s face.

Evelynne turned her face into the caress like a cat. “Mmm,” she hummed, closing her eyes again briefly. “G’morning.” In a quick, wormlike movement, she suddenly wriggled forward so that she was within the circle of Ally’s arms, her head tucked comfortably beneath the taller woman’s chin. “What’re you doing?” she asked sleepily, her voice muffled.

“Well, I was watching you sleep,” Ally admitted, closing her own eyes and transferring her caresses to Evelynne’s back, while the sensation of her lover’s breath between her breasts created interesting sensations throughout her body. “But this is good.”

“Mmm,” Evelynne agreed, arching her back as Ally’s hand slipped under her oversized night-shirt. As usual, Ally was sleeping naked, but Evelynne had never been completely comfortable doing the same, preferring at least a t-shirt and underwear.

Ally watched, fascinated, as she felt the various parts of Evelynne’s mind awaken fully. It always reminded her of listening to a hot car motor cool down, with various pings and clicks as the metal cooled, although admittedly this was the reverse. Still, Ally knew better than most just how active the mind was, even during sleepmore so at timesso perhaps the analogy was still a good one.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Evelynne said softly into Ally’s chest. “I was a real nusek, and it really wasn’t your fault, and you didn’t deserve that.”

In reality, Evelynne hadn’t truly done anything the previous evening. Once again she had become silent and curt, completely shutting out her partner’s tentative verbal and mental probes. And, Evelynne was learning, that was one of the worst things one could do to an empath like Ally. On a subconscious level she was constantly if peripherally aware of most others’ mental states, and the confusion created by the loss of that awareness, especially from someone she was usually even more aware of, was difficult. Even anger or sorrow on Evelynne’s part, unpleasant though they were, would have been easier to handle.

“I understand,” Ally said softly, and even now Evelynne could feel the subtle release of tension as she relaxed. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Not right now,” Evelynne replied, her hands beginning to move with more deliberate intent. “I have other things on my mind.” She nipped lightly at the hollow of Ally’s throat.

Despite the very pleasant haze beginning to cloud her thoughts, Ally managed to pull back slightly and to look carefully into her lover’s eyes. Evelynne, sensing her intent, let her, opening her mind completely to Ally’s gentle probe.

They had few rules when it came to sex. It could be simple, exotic, slow, quick, gentle, rough, or experimental as they wished, but it must always be based in desire. Sexual “obligation” wasn’t to exist, and “debts” were never to be paid in sexual favours. If one of them wished to make love to the other without reciprocation, that was one thing. The idea, Ally had said, was to prevent turning making love into some sort of domestic commerce.

Evelynne could have been insulted by the lack of trust the rule implied, she supposed. However, mysterious psychic bond or not, she knew Ally espoused the concept of clear communication, and it was one she wholeheartedly agreed with. Their relationship had almost been destroyed twice already, once nearly before it had even started, due to secrets and lack of communication. Besides, it was all very well to intimately know your partner’s emotional state, but the bond couldn’t tell you a thing about why they were feeling as they were.

Whatever Ally saw in Evelynne’s eyes must have satisfied her, because she smiled slowly. “Something on your mind?” she murmured, slowly pushing her lover onto her back and stretching out on top of her. “Well, that’s good, because so do I. Several somethings, actually.” She bent her head to place her lips on Evelynne’s neck, and then Evelynne felt a dozen phantom hands stroking her, caressing her, and rapidly lost all control.

Claire lay in bed, trying to ignore the muffled sounds that were emanating from the next room. It was difficult, because a part of hera fairly large part, actuallywas incredibly intrigued, not to mention aroused, by the suggestive sounds. If she had been alone in the room she might have engaged in the guilty pleasure of listening and private fantasy, but she wasn’t alone. Corey was snoring lightly in the other bed just a few feet away, so instead of guilty pleasure Claire was feeling incredibly exposed and embarrassed.

When she had realised what she was hearing, Claire had considered getting up and leaving the room in order to get away from the muffled sounds of pleasure. She hadn’t for two reasons. First, she had been afraid of making some noise, thereby alerting those next door that she could hear themalthough now it seemed unlikely they would notice if she started tap-dancingwhich would cause massive amounts of embarrassment all around. Second, Claire hadn’t wanted to wake Corey. It seemed somehow sacrilegious to have yet another person listening to the sounds of Ally’s and Sophia’s lovemaking.

So instead Claire lay back in the bed, put the pillow over her head, and tried to ignore both the sounds leaking through the wall and the highly arousing images they evoked.

Then suddenly the images were no longer a jumble of speculative pictures, as Claire’s treacherous mind inserted her into the room next door. Her eyes opened wide, and the image of the room in which she was physically lying was overlaid by a vision as though she was looking down over the bed where Ally and Sophia were making love. Claire instantly knew what was happening, and was torn between relief that the attack had sent only one extra vision to confuse her, and cursing that it had chosen this image from her imagination to do it with.

In the vision, Ally lay between Sophia’s legs, her face buried in her redheaded lover’s neck. She was braced on one elbow, her other hand obviously active between their bodies, if the glassy-eyed expression and sheen of sweat on Sophia’s face were any indication.

Damn, where are my pills? Claire wondered, stumbling to her feet and trying to figure out where the door was, while in the vision Sophia clutched her lover’s shoulders and arched. In the bathroom, right.

Claire stumbled her way to the door through her doubled vision, vaguely aware that her noise had woken Corey, but the only thing on her mind was to end this experience. Even though she knew it was only a virtual image, a trick cooked up by her bizarre brain chemistry, it still felt like she was intruding on something intimate and private that she had no right to view. A personal fantasy scenario was one thing, but this was too much like spying on her friends, like watching a video of them taken without their knowledge.

Claire finally made it to the bathroom, almost falling once when she misjudged and collided with the doorway, not even hearing Corey’s confused query as her vision was suddenly joined by perfect imagined sound. Sophia’s gasps and breathless moans were suddenly loud in Claire’s ears, as was Ally’s quick, heavy breathing. The two lovers’ vocalisations came faster, more urgent, as Claire fumbled in her toiletry bag for her medication, feeling her own body involuntarily respond. Claire had just frantically grasped the small orange bottle when she saw/heard the Ally in her mind whisper, “I’m here, Evelynne, I’ve got you,” saw Sophia stiffen before latching her teeth into Ally’s shoulder to muffle her long, drawn-out moan, and then Claire was slipping to the floor of the bathroom, small white tablets scattering, and the vision faded, leaving her own body pulsing in reaction.

“See you in a moment,” Evelynne said, smiling at her lover as she left the bathroom.

“Mmhmm,” Ally replied from her position by the mirror, where she was putting in her contact lenses. Slipping one in, she blinked rapidly several times, then smiled at Evelynne in the mirror and winked.

Evelynne grinned back, blowing a kiss and then turning back into the hall. She couldn’t stop grinning as she thought about their morning. They had spent quite a long time in bed enthusiastically exploring each other before finally rising to shower and dress. The shower had delayed the latter action, however, and now Evelynne was feeling extremely sated and very hungry, for food this time.

The morning had also let her and her fiancée reconnect on a very direct spiritual level, letting Evelynne realise that she and Ally had grown not distant, but disconnected over the last weeks. It hadn’t been the fault of either of them, just a result of the ongoing stress of making this new life together.

The events of the last few days had simply emphasized that disconnection. The fact of the Atlantlan mass memorial service had hit Evelynne especially hard. She had been raised from birth to feel a direct, personal connection with the citizens of her homeland, and being unable to participate in this important rite had shaken her deeply. For all her compassion and affection for her adopted country, Ally lacked that sense of personal obligation, and the subconscious realisation of that difference between them had been a factor in the way Evelynne had treated her the night before.

Now, though, she had explained how she felt to her lover, and apologized, and had cried into Ally’s shoulder for a long time, and now felt better. Not wonderful, but more stable, knowing she had Ally there for support. It made her wonder if there was anything Ally wouldn’t forgive her for, and then she hoped she’d never find out.

Lost in her own thoughts, Evelynne missed the tension permeating the kitchen until she was nearly inside, and Claire’s terse voice could be easily heard.

“Listen, Corey. No, I’m not all right, and no, I’m not going to talk about it. So just back off, will you? It’s none of your business.”

Evelynne’s brows rose in surprise at the asperity in Claire’s normally quiet tone. She had obviously come in near the end of the discussion, because she almost ran into Corey on his way out of the kitchen.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, fine,” he was saying over his shoulder. “I have to get to work anyway. Oops, sorry. Oh, hi Sophia,” he said, as they narrowly avoided colliding in the doorway. “Sorry to greet and run, but I have to get to work.” He lowered his voice. “Watch out. Claire’s in a really bad mood, and I don’t know why. Maybe you’ll have better luck.” He glanced at his watch. “Anyway, say ‘hi’ to Ally for me, ‘kay? Bye Sophia, bye Claire.” Then he was out the door, barely giving Evelynne a chance to call a farewell after him.

Shaking her head bemusedly, Evelynne walked into the kitchen, catching sight of Claire hunched over a cup of some hot beverage at the tiny table. She frowned at the way the other woman was sitting so tensely and refusing to meet her gaze.

“Good morning, Claire,” Evelynne said, keeping her tone light. “Wow, that was quick, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, you’ve never seen Corey after two cups of coffee, have you?” Claire’s tone was distracted.

“Apparently not.” Evelynne poured herself a cup from the pot on the stove, then took a seat across from Claire at the table. “So, how was your night? I’m sorry I didn’t stay up to see you come in, by the way.”

“No, that’s okay,” Claire said, her gaze still fixed on her coffee. This close, Evelynne could see that her hands were gripping the cup so hard her knuckles were white. “And the night was fine. Great, actually, considering that if it wasn’t for you I’d probably have been in a homeless shelter.”

“Good.” Evelynne looked across the table at her friend, noticing that she was actually shaking slightly. “Claire, are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m” Claire snapped, her head whipping up involuntarily. She stopped abruptly when she saw Evelynne’s face, and Evelynne watched, fascinated, as Claire’s own face changed from its normal white-and-black pattern to pink-and-black. Just then Ally walked into the small room, and Claire’s face turned a deep red-and-black as her eyes fell on Evelynne’s girlfriend before dropping like a stone back to her coffee cup. “I’m fine,” she whispered.

Ally paused, uncertain, as she saw the reaction, and she looked quizzically at Evelynne.

Something’s wrong, Evelynne said silently. Just be calm, all right?

Ally nodded slightly, and moved quietly to the stove, grimacing at the sight of the coffee in the pot. “Morning, Claire,” she said evenly, putting a kettle of fresh water on to boil and getting an herbal teabag. Satisfied, she took a seat at the table between Claire and Evelynne.

“Hi, Ally,” Claire, muttered, her voice tight. Her eyes remained fixed to the tabletop.

“Claire?” Evelynne said, trying unsuccessfully to meet the other woman’s eyes. “Claire, you know you can talk to us about anything, don’t you? You don’t have to, but we’re here if you want us, all right?”

Claire’s response was a choking bark of half-hysterical laughter as she nearly shot coffee out her nose. “Sorry,” she said, finally looking up, and her face had lost a fraction of its shuttered expression. “It’s just that something’s really funny

in a completely inappropriate way.”

“That’s okay,” Ally said. “You don’t have to be sorry. You just have to know that there are people here who want to help if you need it, okay? Or you can tell us to push off, if that’s what you want.”

“Thanks,” Claire said. “I

” She was obviously struggling. “I had an attack this morning, and it was really confusing.”

“Oh. Are you all right now?” Evelynne asked. “Physically, I mean?”

“Yeah, I think so. I tripped and hit my shoulder, but that’s just a little bruise.” She paused. “I justI’ve never had one like this before, y’know? You know how I normally just see pictures, and hear things, right?” Ally nodded, and Evelynne murmured an affirmative. “Well, this time I had a

reaction.” The red-on-black blush was back, and Claire sipped her coffee to try to hide it. “Aa physical reaction. That’s never happened before. And it scared me, kind of.”

“Oh. Do you want us to take you to see a doctor?” Evelynne asked. “We can, if you want.”

Claire shook her head. “No. They’ve already done just about every kind of test they can think of. What more are they gonna do? I’m not hurt, I’m just

“

Just scared, Evelynne finished. She looked at Ally, who reached across and was gently massaging one of Claire’s tight shoulders, which relaxed slightly under the ministrations. I know how Ally gets scared sometimes about the things her mind does and how it’s developing. She knows what that’s like.

“I think I’m going to call in and take the day off,” Claire continued, her voice now measurably more relaxed. “The world can get by without me selling useless crap over the phone today.” She looked up finally. “If that’s okay, I mean.”

“Sure,” Ally agreed. “Do you want one of us to stay with you? I have a student in about an hour, but I can postpone if you’d like.”

“No.” Claire shook her head. She was still obviously embarrassed and uneasy, but the brittleness that had been present earlier was gone. “I’ll be okay. Thanks, though.”

“No problem,” Ally said. The kettle on the stove began to whistle, and she stood to tend to it, and then winced as the movement pulled at her shirt. “Ouch.” She pulled back the collar of her shirt and rubbed at the red mark where her left shoulder met her neck.

Evelynne blushed as she saw the reminder of her enthusiasm earlier that morning. She looked away from her lover and saw Claire looking at the same mark with a half-puzzled, half-wondering expression on her face. As soon as Claire saw her staring the other woman looked away, but not before Evelynne thought she heard her mutter to herself, “That’s some imagination

“

“Chorus, good to see you again,” Taldas Islin greeted, standing to shake the other man’s hand.

“Bon’jier’a, Taldas,” Chorus replied, returning the handshake firmly. “Sorry I’m so late, by the way.” Rounding his desk, the young man half-collapsed into his own chair and cast a quick eye over the messages waiting for him. “So, how have things been?”

“Not too bad,” Taldas said. “The research is progressing, but without the Boss there

” He shrugged helplessly. “She wasis the heart of our team, you know. And much as I hate to admit it, Laura was the brain.” The degree to which Laura McGarrity’s betrayal had affected him personally was evident in his hesitation in saying her name. “I seem to be spending half my time doing paperwork these days, even with the new people.”

Chorus looked at him sympathetically. “And Rena and Marjorie? How are they?”

“Marj is doing well. She’s going to be calling you in a day or so to get your input on a translation she’s working on. As for Rena

” Taldas’ face fell. “I haven’t seen her recently. She’s still an Initiate so she’s still in seclusion.”

“Oh yes, she still wants to become a priestess, then?”

“Most definitely. I told her I’d wait for her, but I still miss her.”

The revelation of Ally’s abilities during the Invasion had deeply affected all those who had witnessed them, although they had all reacted in different ways. Some, like Taldas, while awed, had accepted Ally’s powers as an aspect of her natural talents. Most were still unsure of the implications but, for the most part, were ready to adopt a “wait and see” attitude. The reactions of a few, however, were more extreme.

Like Rena bel’Oman. Rena had seen in Ally’s impressive display proof of the existence of the Gods she had always worshipped, albeit theretofore with much less fervour. She had expressed her belief that Ally was, in fact, the earthly Avatar of the Goddess Isis, despite Ally’s nearly frantic attempts to convince her otherwise. According to Rena, even such an earthly incarnation might not be truly aware of her semi-divine status. Rena’s final decision had been to seek initiation into the Priesthood, not to worship Ally, but to properly serve and understand the Entity that was the source of her power. Chorus and Taldas both wondered what Ally’s reaction would be when she returned and realised what Rena had done, and both knew her well enough that it would not be good.

“So how long does her Initiation last?”

“Fourteen months,” Taldas said. “Then, if she continues, she’ll become an Acolyte. I get to see her once every three months until then.”

Chorus nodded. “Well, the business reason I asked you to meet me was that I was hoping you could become my teacher.”

“Teacher?”

“Yes. As you know, I’m doing a lot of work for Guard Intelligence now, and these days obviously a vast amount of that work involves computers.” Taldas nodded in understanding. “Well, you also know I’m a Savant when it comes to languages, and one day it came to me that I could be really effective if I could talk to the computers. Literally.”

Taldas looked shocked. “You mean speaking with a computer?”

“Well, maybe not literal speech. I just thought that if I could really understand how they ‘thought’ then I could communicate with them to their full potential. Now I did some research and found out that the most basic computer language is ‘machine language’, which is straightforward enough.” Taldas stared at him. This was the first time he had heard anyone refer to machine language as “straightforward.” “The problem is that machine language interacts directly with the hardware, and that’s where I get lost. Unfortunately my skills do not extend into electronics, any more than they extend into neural biology. That’s where you come in. I need someone to be my ‘interpreter’, and teach me how to translate the machine language into something people can understand. Or that I can understand . Preferably someone who knows about talents like mine, and also can remain discreet about speaking about it.”

Chapter 9

Claire walked along the pathway at the college, her head down as she puzzled over a problem from her math class. Third and fourth year mathematics courses were always tough, but the assignments from her Complex Math professor were, to use his favourite joke, complex. She grimaced. Doctor Miller was one of those unfortunate people who, in the face of all possible contradictory evidence, was convinced he had a great sense of humour.

Still, he was a very intelligent teacher, and constantly challenged his students to be as brilliant and creative as he was. Claire frowned as she considered possibilities. Well, if I use a logarithmic transformation and map the function into wz-space I could integrate over the transformed interval and

“Miss Jones?” a voice just in front of Claire asked, and she jumped back with a gasp as she was torn from her considerations of imaginary numbers and complex vector spaces.

The speaker was a heavy-set motherly woman, who was accompanied by a teenager and a tall, black-garbed bearded man wearing a black hat. The younger boy was vaguely familiar, but Claire couldn’t immediately place where she had seen him before.

“Yes?” she said uncertainly. Very few people were in the habit of stopping her in public to speak with her. Even panhandlers and people handing out religious flyers tended to avoid her, choosing targets whowere less disconcerting to look at.

“Hello, I’m Sarah Stein,” the other woman said. “This Rabbi Lyman.” The bearded man nodded in greeting. “And I believe you already know my son, Micah.” Her tone for the last introduction changed, becoming disapproving, although Claire thought it was directed more towards the teenager at her side. The boy looked down guiltily, confirming her suspicions.

“I don’t” Claire began, looking at the boy quizzically. Then she inhaled sharply and stepped back instinctively. Three weeks previously she had seen him on a dark street in the company of several other rough youths, many of whom had subsequently suffered from some painful bad luck.

“I see you remember him,” Sarah Stein said severely, and Micah flushed and hung his head. “Miss Jones, my son has come to apologise in person, if that is all right with you.” Confused, Claire nodded uncertainly, her eyes darting between the three people before her. “Thank you. We will give you two a few minutes alone. Don’t worry, Miss Jones, Rabbi Lyman and I will be right over there.” Mrs Stein pointed to a spot a few metres away.

Still uncertain, Claire stood tensely as the two older people walked away, leaving her with the fidgeting teenager. Despite the others present, the memory of this boy and his friends and their juvenile menace was raising her anxiety levels dramatically. Even the public locale was of little comfort, since in one of the ironies of her existence, Claire’s odd appearance had, on occasion, seemed to make her even more invisible, at least when it came to seeking rescue.

The boy next to her seemed almost as anxious, however, but he swallowed once convulsively and said, “Hello, Miss Jones, my name is Micah Stein.” He sounded like he was reading from a prepared script. “Um, I wanted to sincerely apologise for

for

” He stuttered to a halt and swallowed again. “For harassing you. Itit was wrong of me t-to persecute you because of your

your

um

” He glanced at her face and then looked quickly away again.

“Because of how I look,” Claire finished for him in a voice that cracked only slightly. She cleared her throat.

“Um, yeah. IYouAnyway, I wanted to say that I am really sorry, and I’ll never do that to anyone ever again.” The last words came out in a rush, and Micah almost sighed in relief. Then his face drew apprehensive again. “And also, if you feel you want to, um, lay charges or something I’m not going to deny anything.”

Claire blinked, the dreamlike nature of the conversation striking her as even more bizarre. Nobody had ever apologised for taking advantage of or making fun of her condition before. “No. No, I don’t want to press charges,” she said dazedly. “But why are you doing this?”

Micah had breathed an almost-concealed sigh of relief, but now blushed again. “Oh. Well, you know that night?” Claire nodded warily. “Well, me and my friends were just hanging out, y’know? And I was just goin’ along with it, y’know, and then Smitty saw you and your friend, and he was all, like, ‘Let’s go mess with the fr’” He broke off suddenly, looking down guiltily. “The, uh

“

“The freak,” Claire said with deceptive mildness. “I’ve heard the word before.”

Micah flushed again. “Uh, yeah. So anyway, then later on we saw you again, and you were with those two girls, and this time Smitty was, like, ‘Let’s show those dthose homosexuals what they’re missing.’” Claire nodded again. Of course, it was highly unlikely that “Smitty” had used that particular word to refer to Ally and Sophia. “And thenAnd then God talked to me.” Micah’s face took on a look of awe, and Claire blinked. “Yeah, I know it sounds nuts. I mean, why would God talk to me, but I swear He did. And He was angry that I was messing with you guys and He wanted me to stop. And then He protectedyou. I mean, He made that can trip Smitty and hit Joe in the face, and that wasn’t normal, y’know. And I know Rory heard something, too, but he ain’t saying what it was. But for me, I know God was telling me something.” The teenager took a breath, seeming to come back to himself. “So anyway, a few days later I went and talked to Rabbi Lyman about it, and one of the things he said I should do was apologise. My brother remembered seeing you around here, and he found out your name, and, uh

“

“Oh,” Claire murmured. She looked into Micah’s face, and, to his credit, he looked back directly with only the tiniest flinch of his eyes. “Well, thank you. And I don’t know if it was God you heard, but then I’ve never talked to Him.” She shrugged. She was actually experiencing a sensation of exhilaration and an unfamiliar peace.

“Yeah,” Micah said, and his own voice was much more relaxed. “I know.” He hesitated. “I dunno how to ask this, and I don’t wanna be a jerk, but those girls you were with, y’know, on that night? Were they, like, together?”

“Together? Oh! Yeah, they’re

partners,” Claire replied cautiously.

“Oh, okay, partners. Uh, and youAre you

?” Micah’s face was bright red.

“Oh. I also

prefer women.” The feeling of bizarreness was back.

“Okay. Sorry. It’s just, like, say if God did talk to me, and he didn’t want me, y’know, persecuting you, maybe it was because you all were gay, or whatever.” The young man glanced in the direction of his mother and the Rabbi. “I talked to Rabbi Lyman about that, and he wasn’t sure. I mean, if God was protecting you because you were, y’know, gay, that’s, like, different from what I was taught. Rabbi Lyman’s been great, though. He told me that everyone has to understand God in his own way. So if God really isn’t against gays and stuff, maybe I should be trying to teach that to people. I’m starting to think about becoming a Rabbi. Whaddaya think?” He looked at Claire shyly out of the corner of his eye.

Claire smiled at him. “Well, I’m not Jewish, or, well, anything really, but personally I’d be happy to have more people like you as teachers. Well, maybe not how you were before,” she felt comfortable enough to tease.

Micah ducked his head and blushed again. “Yeah, I was kind of a jerk, wasn’t I?” he said sheepishly. “Do you think you could maybe help me meet your friends? The ones from that night? I wanna apologise to them, too.”

“I think I can do that. Give me your number and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks. Uh

do you want to come and talk to my Mom?” Micah asked, standing. “She and Rabbi Lyman wanted to talk to you.”

“Sure,” Claire agreed tentatively as she began to follow him.

“Okay. You know something really weird about God talking to me? I mean” Micah gestured broadly. “beyond God talking to me?”

“What?”

“I think God’s a girl.”

Evelynne laughed at the expression on Jean’s face. “So, what do you think? Good, eh?” she teased with a smirk.

“Ye Gods, but that’s foul!” Jean exclaimed, her whole face puckered. She swallowed reluctantly, and then started trying to wipe her tongue with a napkin. “Bleah.”

“I told you so,” Ally said from her place at the table next to her girlfriend. “I told you, it’s Tabasco or nothing. Barbeque sauce just doesn’t cut it.” She demonstrated by taking up a spoonful of ice cream, tipping a few drops of Tabasco sauce on it, and placing it in her mouth with great relish. Her mouth puckered reflexively but she still hummed with pleasure.

Jean shuddered, and her reaction was mirrored by most of the people around the table. “That’s still disgusting,” she proclaimed to general agreement.

“Well, of course it’s bad if you try to soak the whole spoonful in Tabasco,” Sammy, one of Jean’s friends, said. He held up his own spoon. “Just a couple of drops.”

Josh, Sammy’s boyfriend, scowled. “Well, all I can say is that if you think I’m kissing you with ice cream-Tabasco breath, you are sorely mistaken, dear.”

“Well, that’s all right,” Sammy said dismissively. “Ally’ll kiss me, won’t you Ally?”

“Of course,” Ally said. “Just remember, no tongue!”

Everyone laughed, and Evelynne joined in, looking around the table with satisfaction. Sammy and Josh were Jean’s friends, and Hal and Erin were enjoying an evening away from their kids. Even though four of the seven present worked at the Sixth Age they still tended to migrate to the restaurant for their off-time recreation. It wasn’t so odd, Evelynne mused. With two gay couples and Jean, who was always on the lookout to create a temporary gay couple of her own, the Sixth Age represented one of the few hangouts in Horton City they could go and have no fear of harassment. Even Ally, never a very social person at the best of times, was enjoying herself.

Of course, most of Evelynne’s experience with Ally in social situations had taken place in Atlantlan high society, and it was obvious that Ally felt much more at ease outside the stratospheric heights of Nobility. Still, by the time they had been forced to flee Ally had made great strides in overcoming that discomfort. It had probably helped that nobody at any of the social events they had attended had dared to purposefully insult the woman who had saved the Heir to their Realm, and that everyone had been uncertain of her ultimate status, which had given her time to adjust before the true social manoeuvring began.

Evelynne came back from her musings as Sammy scowled dramatically. “Awww. How will I know how good she is, then?” He brightened and turned to Evelynne, who was sitting next to him. “You can tell me, Sophia. How good is she?”

Evelynne looked speculatively at her partner, who blushed. In spite of the flush, she appeared to be fairly relaxed, and Evelynne considered that she was comfortable enough for some teasing. “Well

” She leaned over to whisper in Sammy’s ear. “Pretend I’m telling you something really personal,” she murmured. She couldn’t quite whisper, but tonight was Karaoke Night, and the ambient noise was enough to muffle her voice. “I don’t want to really embarrass her, all right?”

Sammy listened eagerly and intently, and the glint in his eye showed he understood. By the time Evelynne had finished he had a considering look on his face and looked at Ally, who blushed deeper, with an expression of impressed speculation. “Really?” he said aloud so that everyone could hear, looking Ally up and down. He glanced at Evelynne. “That many times?”

“Oh yes,” Evelynne replied seriously. “More, sometimes.” She steadfastly refused to look in her lover’s direction, knowing she’d be unable to keep a straight face if she did so.

“And like

” Sammy made a complicated gesture with both hands in the air that really could have meant anything.

“Yes. Not all the time, of course, because frankly who could survive it? But still

” This time she looked at Ally, who appeared torn between total mortification and confused pride at whatever was being implied, and couldn’t stop her lips from twitching.

“It’s a bit like that with this one,” Sammy said, jerking a thumb at Josh. “I mean

” He held up both hands, fingers spread.

Evelynne pursed her lips in a soundless whistle. “I didn’t think that was even possible.”

“Neither did I,” Sammy said. “But you know

“

Josh looked wryly across the table at Ally. “Do you get the impression that our so-called significant others are messing with us?”

“Kind of,” Ally replied, her face still red. “Although I can’t decide whether to hope they are or hope they’re not.”

“Well, think of it this way,” Erin interjected, “if you’re both really as good as they’re implying, imagine what it would be like if you two got together.”

Josh’s eyebrows rose. “Ooo,” he breathed, and Ally managed to look contemplative.

“I’d do you both,” Jean stated.

Evelynne and Sammy looked at each other, then grabbed their respective partners’ arms almost in unison. “Mine!” they proclaimed together.

“And we have drinks,” Josh said, setting down a double handful of glasses. The bar had filled up significantly as the evening wore on, and the servers were incredibly busy. It almost made Evelynne feel guilty that it was her day off and she wasn’t helping them. Almost. “Sorry it took so long, but this girl up there just wouldn’t believe I wasn’t interested. Has he started yet?”

“Not yet,” Erin replied, looking up to the stage where her husband was waiting for the karaoke machine to start up. “Oh, here he goes,” she said as Hal started in on a rendition of It’s Raining Men to much cheering from his audience.

Hal’s performance was the latest round in a game of “Irony Karaoke” that had been suggested by Jean. According to the “rules”, it was up to the rest of the group to pick the most ironic song possible for the challenged. Jean had already taken her own turn with a rendition of Madonna’s Like a Virgin that had been hilarious, considering that several women in the audience could personally attest to the inaccuracy of the implication. Sammyall six foot four inch, blond, sleek, well-muscled two hundred pound ex-linebacker of himhad taken his turn with I Feel Like a Woman, a song that his friends agreed had double irony. And now it was Hal’s turn to sing It’s Raining Men as his devoted wife and mother of his children watched with delight.

Finally he finished with a flourish and a bow to his cheering fans and made his way back to the table. He leaned down to kiss his wife and asked, “So?”

“You were awesome,” Sammy attested. “I’d do you.”

“You were good,” Ally agreed, taking a sip of her drink. She immediately screwed up her face and swallowed hastily, coughing. “What the hell is that?” she asked, peering into the glass. “Gah. Whatever it is, it’s not Amarula.”

Josh picked up her drink and sniffed. “You’re right. Here, let me get you another.”

“No, that’s okay. I think I’m about at my limit for the night, anyway.” She really hadn’t drunk that much, but was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol she had imbibed.

“You’re sure?” Ally nodded. “Okay, then I think I’ve found Ally’s song,” Josh announced, holding up the list of karaoke songs.

“Oh, no no no no no,” Ally said immediately, and Evelynne grinned at the typical reaction. Recently she had begun to suspect that some of Ally’s reticence was due more to habit than true shyness.

“Oh, come on,” Hal coaxed. “I got up there. You can’t do much worse.”

“Wanna bet?” Ally muttered.

“Sophia, you can get her to do it, can’t you?” Jean said.

Evelynne hesitated while Ally looked at her beseechingly. She knew that she could almost certainly coax Ally into going up, but manipulating her lover into doing something she really didn’t want to do made her uncomfortable. She usually used her persuasive abilities only in cases where she felt that a part of Ally really did want to do something but just needed a little push, and she wasn’t quite sure that was the case here. “Listen,” she said finally, “I’m going to go to the bathroom. If you haven’t convinced Ally by the time I get back

we’ll see.” By that time Ally would either have been mostly convinced and just need that little push, or have dug her heels in because she really was too embarrassed.

Evelynne waited in line for the bathroom and mused on just how normal it felt. Which was truly bizarre, because a few months before this would have been the last thing she would have considered “normal”.Prior to her flight from Atlantl she had never had to wait in line for her place in the bathroom. She would never have been in such an unsecured situation with so many strangers, for that matter. Even on a trip to the bathroom in a public place she would have been accompanied by at least three members of the Heir’s Guard, who would have cleared the entire area before allowing her to proceed. Now she wondered what would happen when she went back to that life, and how many of the habits she was picking up would drive her Guards to distraction.

The line inched forward and Evelynne inched along with it.

Even her job as, effectively, a servant was beginning to feel almost normal. She would probably never be completely comfortable with it, since twenty years of life on the other side of the social spectrum left a mindset too ingrained to break after only a few months, but Evelynne felt that it certainly gave her some insight into what her fianc?e had experienced during her time trying to fit into Atlantlan high society. If this sensation of disjunction was what Ally had really been feeling, Evelynne was even more impressed by how well her partner had actually fit in.

Evelynne frowned at the thought as the line moved forward again. It was easy to see just how much more at ease Ally had been in this much more familiar environment, and part of Evelynne was concerned about her lover’s state of mind once they did get back to Atlantl. Assuming all went well, they would be going back to the Realm not as “Ally and Sophia”, but as Crown Princess Evelynne and Heir Consort Lady Alleandre. And while she had no doubts about the love that Ally had for her, she really didn’t want her Consort to have the same constant feeling of alienation. I’ll have to make some changes, she thought. Maybe schedule some regular times where we can go to Ally’s house and just spend some time being “Ally and Evy”. Make “time off” more informal when we’re not involved in state duties. Whatever it takes, I want her to be comfortable wherever she is and whatever she’s doing.

When Evelynne finally got back from the bathroom she sat back down and looked around the table. “Where’s Ally?” she asked.

Sammy didn’t answer, just pointing towards the stage, and she looked to where she realised everyone else was gazing. There was a woman standing up there with her back to the audience, and it took Evelynne a moment to realise with a shock that it was Ally, wearing what appeared to be Sammy’s black leather jacket over her white shirt and black jeans. Evelynne opened her mouth to ask what was happening when the sound of a motorcycle engine revved over the speakers. Ally turned around and Evelynne froze as she sang the title line to Queen’s Ride the Wildwind. Evelynne could only stare as her shy, repressed, unassuming lover started in on the adrenaline-inducing tune.

It wasn’t just that that she was singing in front of this room packed with strangers. It was the way sensuality was practically rolling off her in waves, turning her into an avatar of arousal. Ally’s normally low voice had moved beyond that, into a husky drawl that reached down into Evelynne’s libido, attached a leash and gave it a sharp tug.

Evelynne didn’t know if it was affecting everyone else the same way, but she did know that Ally’s audience was certainly getting into her rendition, responding with cries of “Hey hey hey” as she played them with seeming effortlessness. The singer wasn’t even fazed by the cheers and whistles coming her way, which only increased when she slipped off the leather jacket and threw it, with the kind of unerring accuracy only possible through psychokinetic ability, back to its owner across the room. Sammy didn’t even have to catch it as it draped itself over his shoulder.

The music finished with a final chord and flourish from the performer, and Evelynne felt light-headed. She drew in a gasp, realising that she’d been breathing shallowly for the last few minutes.

“Sophia,” Erin said seriously as Ally made her way back to the table, fending off grasping hands as she did so, “if you don’t take that woman home now and get her into your bed, I’m going to get her intomine.” The heretofore relentlessly heterosexual woman’s husband could only stare, his own brain stunned.

“Damn, Erin,” Sammy added, “get in line.”

Evelynne just nodded dumbly, grabbing her fianc?e’s hand as soon as she could reach and dragging her out of the bar to a chorus of cheers and catcalls.

Ally opened her eyes and immediately shut them tight again against the sunlight that stabbed into her brain, carved out a home for itself, and started playing the bagpipes. She groaned.

She slitted her eyes and ever so slowly opened them, giving them plenty of time to adjust. They felt gritty, and she realised that she hadn’t taken out her contacts the night before. The light was actually fairly dim, merely the remnants that had leaked through the curtains of their bedroom.

Thought of her lover brought several more facts to light. Contrary to how Ally usually woke up, Evelynne was not wrapped around her, and looking to the side she saw her fianc?e sprawled next to her, completely exposed to the air. As appealing as the sight was, Ally wondered what had happened, now noting that she herself was equally bare. The bed was devoid of blankets, save for a small part of the sheet clinging valiantly to the corner of the bed.

Then the events of the previous evening came back in an eidetic rush, and Ally groaned again, this time in embarrassment, and covered her face with her hands. Oh God, what was I thinking? she wailed mentally. How much did I drink last night? I have never done anything like that before. Getting up there in front of all those people. Oh my God, that was so

so

She sought for the proper words.Inspiring. Ally frowned at the new thought. No, it was embarrassing, mortifying. And I liked it. The thought was troubled. It was a rush, she admitted to herself reluctantly. It was like I had no moreinhibitions, and I was

free. Memories of what had happened after Evelynne had dragged her out rose up, and her whole body flushed. Evy seemed to like it, she thought, as perfect recall served to inspire a first rush of arousal.

As though summoned by the thought, Evelynne moaned softly and turned, throwing an arm and a leg over her bedmate and burying her head into Ally’s shoulder, humming happily. Slowly her eyes blinked open and she looked up into Ally’s turbulent ones. “Mmm, morning,” she hummed, lifting herself up and draping herself over Ally’s body, then dipping her head to kiss her deeply. Ally responded readily, but there must have been some hint of hesitation in her caress that caused Evelynne to pull back slightly.

“How are you feeling?” Ally murmured.

Evelynne grinned and arched her back, causing all sorts of interesting sensations to ripple through Ally’s body. “Mmmm

Woooonderful,” she drawled. Looking back down, she asked, “What about you?”

“I’m sorry about last night,” Ally said softly. “That wasn’tI didn’t”

“Oh, I’m not complaining, love,” Evelynne assured her. “Most certainly not complaining. Although,” she added with concern, “it wasn’t really like you to get up on stage like that.”

Ally blushed at the memory, although it was largely lost in the persistent flush of arousal. “Yeah, I think I had too much to drink.” She looked at her lover shyly. “I wish I could be like that all the time for you.”

Evelynne shook her head. “Don’t,” she said seriously. “I fell in love with you as you are. I don’t want you to change just for me, especially if you need alcohol to do it.” She grinned again. “Besides, I had a hard enough time keeping people’s hands off you last night. I don’t think I have the energy to do it full time.” Her voice dropped and she pressed her body into Ally’s once more. “On the other hand, what you didafterwards is something I’m quite interested in repeating.”

“Let me see what I can remember,” Ally murmured, pulling her lover down.

Chapter 10

Taking a swig of water from her bottle, Ally squinted up at the cloudless sky, shifting the pack on her back. The heat was oppressive, especially since the pavement was equally scorching, turning the downtown area she was walking through, near Claire and Corey’s previous apartment, into a sauna. Sheesh. When I get home I’ll see if Evy wants to head down to the river. Although

Oh yeah, she’s working ‘till tonight. Damn. Well, I know Corey has the evening shift also, so maybe Claire will feel like going swimming. Ally didn’t think it was likely. Claire was more conscious of her looks than Ally ever had been of hers, and would rarely be seen in shorts, let alone a swimming suit. While Ally had no negative opinions about Claire’s appearance, she knew from personal experience that self-image was often more important than what others thought.

Ally was broken from her thoughts as a fire truck roared past, lights and siren wailing. She looked as it turned down a street just ahead and sniffed, smelling smoke. If someone’s burning a leaf pile they’re going to be sorry, she mused. There was a ban on all outside fires throughout several surrounding counties due to the parched hot weather. The Horton City Fire Department had been extremely busy putting out minor burns, as well as the “normal” house and business fires.

Ally looked up over the tall office building beside her and saw a thick column of smoke rising into the sky. Its base appeared to be a block or so away. That’s way more than a leaf fire. Reaching the intersection, she peered down the street. Two blocks away the fire engine had joined two others, and firefighters were swarming around them. A few police cars had also arrived, and were trying to assert some control over the civilians who were milling about on the sidewalk.

Feeling mildly guilty, Ally set off at a brisk walk towards the crowd. She disapproved of gawkers and rubberneckers in general, and always hated joining them, but in the past she had been able to provide a certain amount of surreptitious “luck” to those involved in similar situations.

Reaching the crowd Ally could see that the fire was even worse than she had guessed. The burning ten-storey apartment building was situated in the middle of the block, enclosed by an office block to the right, and other apartments on the other sides, with only the narrowest of alleyways separating them. The fire seemed to be currently isolated towards the top left of the building, but even as Ally watched she saw flames take over another window, slowly marching to the right. Given the age of the building, coupled with the tinder-dry weather, she wondered if the firefighters would be able to control the blaze.

Apparently the fire crews had similar doubts, because while two trucks continued to pour water on the stricken building, the third was concentrating its efforts on soaking the structures around it. As she watched, firefighters were helping more evacuees down the ladders that had been raised, adding them to the growing crowd on the ground. Ally nodded to herself. The firefighters were obviously efficient and experienced, and seemed to have the situation as much under control as possible.

All that changed in an instant when nearly every window on the eighth floor blew out in gouts of flame. Ally ducked instinctively, along with everyone else, as glass and debris rained down around them. Thankfully the windows had shattered, which meant that the rain consisted largely of pebble-sized chunks, rather than larger knives of deadly glass. Only a few people on the ground were cut, and Ally looked up, wiping gingerly at a light scratch on her cheek, to see the fire chief shouting orders, as firefighters hurried out of the building and down the ladders with alacrity. Police officers were pushing the crowd back, obviously fearing another explosion. Now the entire eighth floor was ablaze, and the firefighters had obviously given up on saving the building and were concentrating their efforts on controlling and containing the fire.

Ally continued moving with the crowd as the police redoubled their efforts to move everyone back, until a sudden spike of pure knowledge through her mind caused her to stumble and almost fall. Shit, there’s someone still in there. Managing to duck into a doorway, Ally closed her eyes, settled herself as best she could, and reached out with her mind, seeking. It was almost impossible to pinpoint anything exactly, the fire, which was almost alive itself, throwing up masses of interference, but after a moment Ally had at least a general fix. Top floor. She opened her eyes, looking at the burning building again. With the inferno that had engulfed the eighth floor, trying to reach the tenth from the ground would be suicide for any firefighter. From the ground

Ally turned and took off down the street.

She turned the corner, out of sight of the fire, and ducked into the small alleyway between two office blocks. Slipping off her pack, she dug inside for her water bottle and used it to douse a handkerchief, printed with kittens, and then tied the light blue cloth around her mouth and nose. Not perfect, but better than nothing.

Leaving the pack behind a garbage can, Ally took one last look around the alley, then gathered herself and jumped.

A moment later she was on top of the office building, two structures away from the burning apartment block. Even from here the heat was detectable, adding to that generated by the sun on the gravel-covered roof. Fortunately the wind was nearly non-existent, allowing the smoke to rise straight up, without blowing it over the surrounding rooftops. Running across the roof, Ally easily cleared the gap between buildings, coming to a stop at the edge of the roof directly behind the burning building.

The heat here was truly intense, but Ally ignored it as she closed her eyes again, casting her mind outwards. The vision that formed was shaky and filled with “static”, but the larger life-forms in the building were detectable. Thousands would die in the fire, she knew: uncounted mice, rats, insects, spiders. Nobody would think of them, but Ally would spend some time once it was all over mourning their deaths. For now, though, she focussed on the single human-strength life force still alive inside. It was on the top floor, as she had suspected, at the far end of the building. Taking note of the largest window near the person, she nodded.

Then, taking a deep breath, she stepped off the edge of the building.

Hovering before the window she had noted, Ally tried to ignore the flames licking out a window an uncomfortably short distance below, and kicked at the glass. With psychokinetic enhancement behind it, the kick shattered the window easily, and Ally winced as a piece of glass cut her leg. Damn, I should have hit it with something. She regretted that she was still wearing only shorts and had a brief mental flash of her appearance: khaki shorts, sandals, a kitten handkerchief, and a Powerpuff Girls T-shirt, a gift given as an inside joke by Evelynne. The Superheroes’ Union is going to revoke my membership for this, she thought wryly, manoeuvring through the broken window.

Once inside what turned out to be the apartment’s combined living room and kitchen, Ally touched down. Looking around, she saw that it was small, worn and run-down, but still clean and homey. Smoke filled the air, not particularly heavy yet, but that would quickly change if the amount leaking under the front door was any indication. Ally coughed, and was grateful she had decided to come in through the window, rather than land on the other roof and down the roof access stairs. Some of the smoke was being drawn out through the now-broken window, but more was accumulating, and Ally immediately started her search.

“Hey! Is there anyone here?” she shouted, opening the door to the right of the main entrance. The room beyond was a bedroom, largely smoke-free, and unoccupied. Turning back, Ally hurried to the short hallway that led off to the left of the front door, repeating the process at the first door in the left wall. That was also a bedroom, whose d?cor told her theowner was probably a young girl. It was also empty of anyone in need of rescue, which left only the last closed door at the end of the hall.

Ally headed to it, coughing and bent over to avoid the smoke, and had just reached it when a blast of heat and an audible “whumph” from behind her made her look around, wide-eyed. The apartment’s front door had succumbed to the heat on the other side, and flames were now greedily licking at the cheap paint on the inside and rapidly spreading to the rest of the living room. A gust of smoke billowed down the hall, engulfing Ally before she could wrench open the final door and dive through, slamming it behind her.

Wiping her streaming eyes and coughing heavily, Ally saw that the final room was the bathroom, and it was here that she finally found the person she had come to rescue. A young ponytailed girl, probably about eight or nine years of age, looked up at her with wide eyes from her place on the floor, wrapped in a blanket next to a large blocky object under a towel.

“Uh… hi,” Ally said, her voice hoarse. “I’m here to help. Are you okay?”

The girl nodded. “I’m Callie,” she replied, her tone remarkably calm. “I heard the fire alarm, and went to the door, but when I touched it like you’re supposed to it was hot, so I didn’t go out. If you can’t get out you’re supposed to stay on the ground and cover yourself in a wet blanket, and stuff wet stuff under the door.” She looked down, and Ally saw that the wet towels that had been used to stop up the crack under the door had been shoved aside when she opened it.

“Oh, right,” Ally said, quickly replacing them and blocking the smoke that was stealing through. Reaching up, she touched the handle, jerking her hand away when it burned her. That fire must be spreadingreally fast. “Damn. Is there any other way out of here?” she asked, already knowing that there wasn’t. The only window was a tiny one high on one wall, much too small to pass an eight-year-old, much less a grown woman.

“Uh uh,” Callie said, real fear beginning to show. “Are we stuck?”

“Mmm,” Ally hummed noncommittally. Hurrying to the far wall, next to the girl, she touched it. Closing her eyes, she sought to project her sight into the wall, and then through it to the open air outside. Nodding, she smiled reassuringly at Callie before realising that the girl couldn’t see past the handkerchief. “Maybe not.”

Callie smiled back tremulously before her eyes flickered and she gave a short scream. Ally whirled and saw that the towels stuffed under the door were smouldering, and flame could be seen around the edges. “Okay, let’s go,” she said quickly, grabbing Callie and pulling her up.

“Wait, what about Archimedes?” Callie blurted.

“Who?”

The girl pulled the towel off the square object, revealing a sleepy-looking guinea pig in a cage, and Ally blinked. Thinking quickly, she grabbed the towel, then snatched the animal and thrust him inside before tying the ends to trap it there. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but the package would be easier to carry than a double-handful of squirming rodent. Grabbing another towel, she tied it into a sling and draped it around Callie’s neck, the wrapped Archimedes inside. Then she picked the girl up and held her. “Okay, I want you to put your arms around my neck and hold on really tight?” Callie nodded and obeyed. “This might be a bit scary, but just hold on, okay?”

The heat from the burning door was becoming almost painful on Ally’s back as she faced the wall. Putting that out of her mind, she focussed, visualising the result, her hands held at her sides. Then she took a shallow breath, almost coughing again as the smoke seared her lungs, and channelled.

Her hands thrust out in front of her around the girl holding onto her neck, striking the wall with incredible force. There was an audible crunch, and the wall dented but held. It was due to the area to which she was applying the force, Ally knew. If she’d simply struck an area the size of her fist she’d likely have broken through instantly, but the force being channelled through her hands was being psychokinetically spread over a much larger area, reducing its impact on any one region. Despite appearances, there really was no cheating the laws of physics.

Drawing back, Ally focussed and struck again. This time the section of weakened wall blew outward with enough force to strike the building on the other side of the alley and Ally instantly leapt for the opening.

Almost in time. The lower air pressure outside sucked the air out of the apartment, and the fire with it. Suddenly fuelled by fresh oxygen, the fire blew out the hole in a gout of flame, mere feet from Ally’s back.

Ally hissed as the burning pain flashed over her back, but managed to hold her focus long enough to land herself and her cargo on the ground with relative gentleness, fortuitously hidden from view of the street by a large dumpster. She stumbled as soon as she landed, falling to one knee and coughing hard as abused lungs sought fresh air. The alley air was hardly fresh, but right now the odour of rotting garbage was like perfume. Callie managed to retain her feet, holding her squirming bundle as she crouched down, awe on her face.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “You’re like a superhero, aren’t you? Like-like Spiderman.”

Ally finally managed to stop coughing and looked up with a hidden rueful smile. “I was hoping for Wonder Woman, actually, but

” She coughed, wiping her face. She turned serious. Now that she had time to think, it was time for damage control. “And you know how superheroes have secret identities?”

“Yeah.” Callie’s eyes widened. “Oh! You mean you don’t want me telling about you, right?”

“Right.” This is so much easier with kids. They take so much on faith. Usually. “Just tell them you got out earlier, or went down the fire escape or something.”

Callie nodded solemnly. “Okay. I know it’s wrong to lie, but this is, like, important, right?”

“Very.” When her latest breath didn’t cause her to nearly lose a lung, Ally stood, wincing at the pulling of the skin on her back. She looked up at the surrounding buildings, wondering how much energy she had left.

“Um

” Ally looked down as the young girl tugged her arm. “Do you, like, have a costume or something?”

Ally smiled with genuine humour despite her discomfort. “I’m working on it.” Then she crouched and leapt, disappearing over the rooftop.

Claire looked longingly at the silent air conditioning unit in the corner of the living room and sighed. Turning back to the television, she settled instead for a long gulp of cold water. She was being foolish, she knew. She had known Ally and Sophia for long enough to logically realise that they would certainly not mind if she turned on the air conditioning, despite the way it added to the electricity bill. For that matter, they would have no objection to her drinking some of the juice in the fridge, rather than sticking to tap water.

A lifetime’s conditioning was hard to break, however. Claire had learned early on that the key to acceptance, at least when one had few other attributes to recommend them, was to become as little a burden as possible. When the foster homes that you were staying in knew that you were unlikely to ever be adopted, the best thing to do was maintain as low a profile as possible and provide no excuses for them to shuffle you off to a new one.

Of course, rationally Claire knew that her current benefactors were definitely not about to throw her out just for eating their food or using their appliances, but she still felt extremely uncomfortable. It had been a triumph for her to actually turn on the TV when they weren’t around. The other key to longer-term acceptance, she had learned, was to become as useful as possible. And so she had practically taken over the cleaning and general tidying of the apartment. Ally was truly appreciative, which was enough incentive in itself, although Sophia seemed to take it almost as a matter of course. It wasn’t that the other woman was unappreciative, but just that she appeared to take it as a given that someone else would do the chores, making Claire think that servants had been a common feature in her life in Atlantis.

That was only one of the puzzles raised by her hosts. Ally and Sophia had been remarkably reticent about their pasts in Atlantis, but from what Claire could deduce, Sophia was from a quite well-off family, and had met Allison while on vacation in Europe. They had gone back to Atlantis as friends, and eventually become a couple. There had apparently been problems with her family when Sophia had proposed to her lover, andhere the story got even more vaguethey had come to the States to create some “space” just before the Invasion. Now it seemed that Sophia’s family had generally accepted her choice of partner, but her father wanted her somewhere safer until the Atlantean situation settled.

It was really very mysterious, Claire mused, idly watching the antics of the Three’s Company crowd on the TV. It was almost as if

Her thoughts were interrupted by the front door opening. She knew that Sophia wouldn’t be home until much later, and Corey had the evening shift, so as she turned she began, “Hi, Ally. How was” She broke off abruptly when she actually saw the woman at the door.

It was Ally, but her appearance was a shock. Her hair was bedraggled, and her face was filthy with sweat and

soot? Her clothing wasn’t much better, the white shirt she had been wearing that morning now smudged with black and grey. Ally’s arms and legs were equally dirty, and it looked like there was a cut along one shin. She was leaning against the wall next to the door, looking at Claire with a surprised expression.

“Jesus, Ally, what happened?” Claire asked, jumping to her feet and hurrying around the couch to her friend. “Are you okay?”

Still apparently in shock, Ally nodded slightly. “I’m okay,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I” She bent over suddenly, unable to finish the sentence as a series of racking coughs shook her body. She almost fell, but Claire grabbed her arm in time to steady her, waiting until the coughing fit eased. “I’m okay,” she rasped again, gasping for breath.

Claire guided her over to the couch and helped her sit, then crouched down to look at her. “You’re not okay,” she disagreed. “You need to go to the hospital. What happened?”

Ally shook her head as vehemently as she could. “No hospital,” she ground out. “Can’t go to the hospital. I’ll be okay. I just need to rest.”

Claire started to object, and then paused. If, as she was beginning to suspect, Ally and Sophia were in the country illegally, for whatever unfathomable reason, there were good reasons for Ally’s reticence. Instead, she leapt to her feet again and ran to the kitchen, filling a large glass with cold water. Returning, she crouched down again, handing the glass to Ally, who drank gratefully. “Okay,” she said finally, “but you have to tell me what happened.”

Ally’s sigh turned into another hacking fit, and when it eased she explained, “There was a big fire downtown, near where you used to live. There was an explosion and I got a big faceful of smoke.”

Claire nodded. She had heard a few fire trucks earlier, and had assumed that they were out at another smaller fire. News that there had been an explosion surprised her. “Do you want me to call Sophia?” she asked.

Ally started to shake her head, then stopped. “I can’t talk to her like this,” she said, coughing again for emphasis. “She’ll freak. I need to get clean first, then I’ll call her.” She seemed oddly reluctant.

With dubious agreement, Claire helped Ally to her feet and led her towards the bathroom. She couldn’t help feeling guilty about the fact that it felt good to be able to help Ally. She made sure Ally was standing steadily in the bathroom, and then carefully closed the door behind her. Standing in the hall for a moment, she came to a decision and reached for the telephone.

Narmin bent down and looked over Sophia’s shoulder as her employee confidently manipulated numbers on the computer screen, obviously knowing exactly what she was doing, which was certainly more than the manager could say. Shifting a number into another column of the spreadsheet for no particular reason Narmin could see, Sophia made a satisfied sound as the figures changed, and the older woman shook her head.

It had begun about a week before, when Narmin had come storming out of her office, frustrated beyond words after a day of going over the restaurant’s records. Once she had calmed down, Sophia had offered to examine the records. “My father works for the Realm,” she had explained. “In the government. Contract work, in a sense. I’ve been studying to take over the family business.” By that point Narmin would have accepted help from the Count from Sesame Street and had readily agreed, not knowing just what she was unleashing.

So far Sophia had streamlined the restaurant’s payment and deposit system, consolidated the books into a much smaller set of spreadsheets, and discovered that Narmin’s regular accountant had been embezzling a small but not insignificant amount of money for the past year. Now Sophia had asked for her input on some other matter, and the manager was just waiting while her new financial advisor made some small corrections.

Finally Sophia was satisfied and leaned back. “All right, here’s what I’ve found,” she began. “At the moment you’re using this one company to coordinate all your supply purchases, and they are actually quite good. However, it might be better in the long run to deal directly with some of the local producers.”

Narmin shook her head. “I tried that a few years ago. It ended up costing more than going through the middleman.”

“It’s true that it’ll cost a bit more out-of-pocket,” Sophia agreed, “but I’ve discovered that there’s a local tax credit that will more than make up for it. It was created a few years ago as to encourage patronage of local producers. If your regular accountant had been doing his job he should have discovered it for you.” Sophia looked offended, and Narmin hid a smile. Ever since taking over the financial aspect of the restaurant Sophia had taken an almost proprietary interest in it, and had seen the former accountant’s incompetence and, worse, dishonesty, as an almost personal affront. “It’ll mean a bit more attention and paperwork” She grinned at Narmin’s groan. “but it should save you roughly eight thousand dollars a year overall.”

The manager looked impressed. “When you add that to the twenty grand that bastard won’t be stealing from me this year, and all the other stuff, you’ve managed to save me close to thirty five thousand already. And you’ve only been doing this for me for a week. You are definitely getting a raise.”

Sophia blushed, pleased. “I’ve been training to take over my father’s company, and it’s a lot bigger than this restaurant. When I”

She was cut off by the phone on the desk, which Narmin answered. “Narmin

Yeah, she’s here.” She handed the phone to her employee. “For you.”

“Hello?” Sophia said.

“Sophia, it’s Claire.”

“Hi, Claire. What’s up?” Narmin smothered another smile. It wasn’t often that Sophia used English colloquialisms, and when she did they always sounded odd.

“It’s Allison. She was in a kind of accident, I think. She’s fine!” Claire continued quickly as Sophia stiffened and paled. “Mostly fine. She’s mostly just kind of sick, and she won’t go to the hospital. It was some sort of fire. I think she’ll be okay, but I wanted toI thought you shouldI just thought I should let you know.”

“Where is she?” Sophia asked urgently.

“She’s in the shower right now. I mean, she can walk and everything, although I think she’s a bit woozy. She’s also coughing a lot, because I think she inhaled some smoke, but she says she’s okay.”

“All right.” Sophia took a deep breath. “Claire, is she okay?”

There was a pause at the other end, as Claire realised the importance of the question and the trust in her opinion that was being offered. “She is,” she said finally. “She’s not perfect, but I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

“Right,” Sophia said. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

The phone hung up, Sophia turned to her boss. “Narmin, can you” She stopped when she saw Narmin already on her cell phone.

The other woman murmured a final instruction and hung up. “I’ve just called you a cab. I heard. Hal can cover you tonight. Besides, I figure I owe you thirty five thousand bucks, so it’s the least I can do.”

Ally stood in the bathroom for several minutes and tried to think. Her head felt fuzzy and her thoughts were coming with glacial slowness. She was aware of concern, worry over how she would explain this to Claire, but the feeling was oddly muted. A sharper fear was how Evelynne would react to this latest escapade. The last time she had sped off to “save the day” the immediate results had not been pleasant. Her fears that her lover would leave because of the danger she put herself in had been allayed at the time, but the core of concern had never gone away.

Realising that she had been staring blankly at herself in the mirror, Ally shook her head gingerly and started into motion. The shower, with its promise of cool water and cleanliness, called urgently. Ally bent over, wincing as the movement pulled her tender back, and removed her shorts and underwear, and then reached for her shirt. She stopped instantly as that particular motion pulled even harder on the skin of her back, turning the tight feeling into a tearing pain. Hissing, she waited until the pain subsided a little, and then tried again, more slowly. It didn’t help; once she reached a certain point it felt like someone was laying two red-hot metal bars between her shoulder blades.

Taking a deep breath to control the pain set off another coughing spasm, leaving her weak and gasping when it passed. Marshalling her concentration, Ally tried to use her talents to lift the shirt off, but the combination of light-headedness, coughing and pain thwarted her attempts to focus. Damn it, what do I do? Cut it off? she wondered. The thought of ruining a gift from Evelynne was abhorrent, even though she vaguely knew that her fianc?e would forgive her readily. Finally some part of her mind came to a decision, and she cracked the door. “Claire? Could you help me out?” she called hoarsely.

There was a click as Claire put something down, then she appeared from the living room. “Of course. What do you need?” she asked earnestly.

“I did something to my back, and I can’t get my shirt off,” Ally admitted, embarrassed. “Could you

?” She opened the door a little more.

“Oh! Sure.” Claire entered the bathroom. She looked down, then back up instantly, her face turning a shocking black and red.

Ally looked at her, confused, until she looked down herself. “Oh! Pants!” Blushing furiously, Ally fumbled for a towel and awkwardly wrapped it around her waist. Oh God

her slow and dazed mind began, and then gave up. Slightly more decent, she tried to ignore the most recent embarrassment. “Can you

?” She indicated her shirt.

“Right,” Claire said, obviously trying to forget the incident. Indicating for Ally to raise her arms, she carefully pulled off the shirt, wincing at the other woman’s laboured breathing. When Ally was finally standing in only her bra and a towel, Claire looked down at the shirt in surprise. The cloth at the back felt stiff and hard, where the nylon fibres had partially melted under heat. “Jesus,” she breathed, obviously wanting to question Ally. She held off, however, getting Ally to turn around so that she could unclasp the tall woman’s bra. She winced again at the sight of Ally’s back, which looked as though she had suffered a bad sunburn. The hair on the back of Ally’s head was also scorched and burned. When Ally turned around again, awkwardly covering herself with her arms, Claire managed a smile. “Okay, do you need anything else?”

Ally was able to smile back in gratitude and shook her head. “No, I’ll be okay. Thanks.”

Claire nodded and left, firmly closing the door behind her. Ally stared at the door for a moment, and then managed to gather her scattered thoughts. She was vaguely surprised that she hadn’t had a panic attack, but then figured that she simply didn’t have the energy. Maybe tomorrow, she thought, turning to step into the shower.

Claire shut the door and leaned against the wall, the memory of what had just happened vivid in her mind. The vision of Ally’s red and painfully burned back swam before her eyes, pushing aside the jolt she had received after seeing her friend half-naked. The latter would probably haunt her later, but for now Claire was more concerned with alleviating Ally’s pain.

Steeling herself, Claire headed to her room. Opening her bedside drawer, she fished around until she came up with a tube of cream. She normally used it to soothe the painful sunburns she often got on the unfortunately frequent occasions that her lighter skin was exposed, but it would work with first-degree fire burns equally well.

That decided, she went to make some more preparations.

When Ally exited the bathroom in her bathrobe, holding herself stiffly and trying to create the least amount of contact between the material and her back, Claire was waiting. With only a few words Claire helped her friend into the bedroom and onto her bed, and Ally was so exhausted she acquiesced without resistance.

Claire had taken it upon herself to straighten Ally and Sophia’s bed, and the bedside table was almost overflowing with drinks, snacks, and anything else she could think of that she thought the patient might want or need. While she had seen this bedroom from the hallway before, this was the first time Claire had been given a chance to investigate it more thoroughly. One thing that had surprised her had been the lack of any personal photos of either friends or family. From conversations she had deduced that both Ally and Sophia were close to their respective families, and since there were no pictures anywhere else in the apartment Claire had assumed that they were only in the bedroom, only to find that that room was equally bare of familial effects.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ally paused uncomfortably. She twitched her shoulders lightly and asked sheepishly, “Can you give me a hand here?” She had removed her contact lenses, and her glasses and the dark circles under them made her look owlish.

“Sure.” Claire eased her down until she was lying on her stomach, and her expression was a mixture or amusement and concern as Ally groaned appreciatively. “I have some cream if you’d like me to put it on your back. It might make it feel better.”

Ally hesitated a moment before grunting affirmatively, coughing as she did so. “Ugh,” she groaned when she recovered. Suddenly she tried to sit up. “Sophia!” she exclaimed.

“Relax,” Claire said, pushing her carefully back down. “I called her and she’s on her way back. She should be home soon.” Ally slowly relaxed back onto the bed. Claire tugged at the collar of her robe. “Can you lift up a bit so I can get this down?”

With some pained manoeuvring Ally untied the belt and Claire slowly peeled down the robe, exposing her back. The first thing she noticed was that the redness she had noticed before was undiminished. If anything it appeared worse, without a layer of sweat and grime to cover it. Ally flinched visibly when Claire touched it gingerly. The second thing she noticed was the coin-sized shiny scar in the centre of Ally’s lower back, and remembered the brief story of how the woman had been shot defending her lover. What did surprise her was another similar scar in Ally’s right shoulder, and she almost reached out to touch it before pulling back. It was a shock to see two bullet wounds, but Ally had never said exactly how many times she had been shot. She also recalled that she had never seen the other woman in a tank top or anything else that would reveal the scar. Claire could relate to the desire to cover up physical blemishes. The last thing she noticed was the chain around Ally’s neck, and the dragon pendant that was now lying on the mattress next to Ally’s head, and felt a bubble of pleased happiness that the other woman was still wearing her birthday gift.

Squeezing some cream onto her hands, Claire began to rub it into Ally’s back and recognised the observable relief from discomfort Ally was exhibiting. She worked the cream into the red skin, watching as Ally relaxed. She took the opportunity to touch the smooth skin of the shoulder scar, intrigued by how different it felt. Her fingers strayed down to the one by Ally’s spine, wincing internally at the thought of the pain and fear that must have accompanied it. There was also something familiar somehow about the appearance of Ally’s back, as though she had seen it before somewhere.

“This is where you were shot, huh?” she murmured, not realising she had spoken aloud until Ally replied.

“Mmm. Yeah,” the woman on the bed whispered, her voice and expression sleepy. “Had t’save Evel-Sophia.”

Claire continued her ministrations, now simply trying to relax the muscles under her fingers. “You really love her, don’t you?” she found herself asking.

“I do,” Ally murmured, her face, turned to the side, creasing in a genuine smile. “She’s

everything.”

Claire felt a pang of emotion in her chest, but was surprised that it wasn’t jealousy, at least, not directly. She realised that she was jealous of neither Ally nor Sophia, or what they had. She felt a longing for it, a desire for what they hada desire, if she was being honest with herself, for either of thembut absolutely no wish to do anything that would ruin what already existed. Alas, no seducing Ally while she’s in a vulnerable state, she thought with amusement. “I’m glad,” she said finally. There was no reply, and peering at Ally’s face Claire saw that she was asleep.

Evelynne entered the apartment urgently, but thankfully without a sense of panic. She had been nearly frantic when she had left the Sixth Age, but in the cab she had been able to calm herself enough to focus on the link between herself and her partner, and what she had read had enabled her to calm further. The sensations coming over the link were ephemeral and confused, as always, but while a great deal of discomfort was present, there was no fear or great urgency.

Nevertheless, she had remained nervous and fidgety, especially when the taxi had gotten stuck in traffic. Cars were being redirected around a large area of the downtown core, and Evelynne had gathered that a massive fire had engulfed a local apartment building. She immediately remembered Claire’s description of Ally’s smoke inhalation, and wondered whether her unusual lover was somehow involved. If she was

Evelynne shoved the thought away, uncertain of the emotions that evoked. The last time Ally had performed some sort of mass rescue she had ended up unconscious for almost three days, and while Evelynne appreciated her partner’s unique calling and how she was sometimes drawn to heroism, that didn’t make dealing with the consequences much easier.

Finally reaching their apartment much later than she thought she would, Evelynne let herself in. Nobody was in the living room, and she hurried down the short hallway to the bedroom. She looked inside and paused.

Ally was lying on the bed on her front with her face turned to the door, her eyes closed. She didn’t appear injured. What gave Evelynne pause was the fact that her fianc?e was bare from the waist up, her robe draped over her hips. Claire was gently rubbing Ally’s back, and the sheen to the painfully red skin suggested that she was applying some kind of lotion. The expression on Claire’s face was caring and somewhat wistful, and for a moment Evelynne could see that if she herself hadn’t been a factor, Claire and Ally would have likely made a very happy couple.

Then she wondered why the thought didn’t bother her as much as it perhaps ought to.

It’s because Ally and I are together, she realised. And I trust Ally completely not to stray. And I trust Claire not to doing anything dishonourable either. It was true, she mused. If Claire had been trying to make a move on Ally she would have been trying to drive some sort of wedge between her and Evelynne, and there had been absolutely nothing of the sort going on. She had been given a golden opportunity in this very event, and could have caused a great deal of strife simply by letting Evelynne come home to discover Ally’s condition without warning. On the contrary, she had striven, not just today but in the past weeks as well, to ensure that Ally and Evelynne’s relationship remained strong, despite her obviousto everyone but Allyattraction to Evelynne’s lover. She had acted as a conciliatory presence several times when one or both of them had been feeling the stress of their situation keenly. Evelynne knew that even without Claire around their relationship would have survived, but the other woman’s subtle encouragements lessened the tension. Claire, someday some woman is going to adore you just as much as you deserve to be adored, Evelynne thought. Even if I have to invade this country to find her!

Her soul more at ease, Evelynne finally announced her presence. She knocked lightly at the door, even though it was her own room. She felt that Claire and Ally were having some sort of private moment, and it only felt right to seek permission before intruding on it. Claire jumped up instantly, her guilty expression telling Evelynne that the attraction she had been musing on was still strong.

“Sophia!” Claire blurted, just managing to modulate her voice to a quieter pitch. “I didn’t hear you. I was”

Evelynne cut off her nervous babble with a compassionate expression. “It’s all right. How is she?” She crouched down, brushing her lover’s cheek gently and saw that Ally was asleep.

“She’s doing okay, I think. She was coughing a lot, and she burned her back pretty badly. And her hair. But she had a shower” Evelynne wondered what had happened to put a blush that colour on her friend’s face “and I put something on her back. She just fell asleep.” Claire lowered her voice still further. “Do youI don’tDo you know what happened?” Her face was a picture of concern and curiosity.

Evelynne sighed. “I can guess,” she said finally. “But I need to talk to Ally first, all right?” Claire nodded readily, and Evelynne felt a surprising urge to confide everything in the other woman. However, this wasn’t her secret alone, no matter how trustworthy Claire had turned out to be. “I just want to stay with her for a while, then can you come back and watch her? I need to make a phone call.”

“That’s it, isn’t it, Mohammed?” King Jad asked, dropping the last of a series of documents into his “out” basket.

The King’s secretary smiled sympathetically, scooping up the same pile for distribution to the necessary parties. “It is, Sire,” he said. “You have an early morning meeting with Duke Lyonesse,” he reminded. “Oh yes, and Meghan would like a few minutes.”

“Of course,” King Jad said. “Show her in, please. Then you can go. Thank you, Mohammed.”

“Certainly, Sire.” It would be a while yet before the secretary could actually leave, since he still had to make sure all the King’s work was sorted, copied, forwarded and filed as necessary, but that was all part of the job he had been holding for almost a decade. Gathering the final documents, al-Shan opened the door and ushered in Meghan Doherty, then headed off to finish his work.

Meghan closed the door and bowed to her Liege.

The King waved off the obeisance. “Please, Meghan, it’s just us here. So how are you today?” As he spoke Jad tidied up his desk in preparation for leaving.

“Quite well, Sire. I-I heard from my niece today,” Meghan began, and the tone of her voice made the King look up quickly. “Apparently her husband was in an accident.” King Jad was frozen, looking at her anxiously. “She assures me that he will recover, but is rather sick at the moment. She also said I should remind her Uncle Arthur about the ‘Angel Incident’ last fall.” It was obvious Meghan didn’t really understand the last instruction, but the King was apparently able to decipher it.

“Oh yes, I believe I heard something about that,” he said. Rubbing his face, he sighed. “Have you had dinner yet, Meghan?” he asked in a seeming non-sequitor.

“Er

no, Sire,” Meghan replied, startled.

“Well, would you care to join Cleo and myself for a meal? You can tell me more about your niece while we eat.”

“Certainly, Sire. I would be honoured.” One didn’t turn down invitations like this.

“Please, Meghan, while we’re in private, at least, you can call me Jad. We’re practically family, after all.”

“Yes, S-Jad,” she said, blushing.

Chapter 11

Corporal Rupert Gyrus sat and tried to hide his nervousness, but was uncertain how well he was doing so. If he was doing it as well as Corporal Justine Iglesias, who was seated next to him, he probably looked almost as uneasy as he felt. A glance around the long table in the nondescript conference room showed that Private Te’Inti Li-He appeared even more uncertain, her expression bordering on outright fear. On the other hand, Captain Amanda Benson’s greater experience was evident as she sat calmly farther up the table, and Private Halan il-Pesek was as completely unemotional as he always was.

The past few months had been stressful enough for the five of them. During the Invasion they had chanced to run upon the Personal Guard units of the King, Queen, Heir, Duke Avalon, and Heir Consort and had aided in the defence of those Noble personages. How much help they actually had been was debatable, since they had also been present to witness Lady Alleandre’s extraordinary actions that had taken out an entire enemy platoon single-handedly. Gyrus still had dreams about the eventor nightmares, depending on whose side Lady Alleandre was in those dreams.

Afterwards, the five of them had been debriefed very thoroughly, and then set almost free. There had been few official restrictions on their actions, but they had also been watched very closely by other Guard teams, who had made no pretence at concealing their activities. The implied warning had been obvious, and the result had been a kind of self-imposed house arrest that had been broken only by the summons to this room in the new Common Guard Headquarters today. Gyrus wasn’t certain what the results would be. While it was highly unlikely that he and the others would conveniently “disappear”, there were plenty of other ways to remove inconvenient witnesses to places where they would not be heard. Manning listening posts in the far-northern Canadian Arctic, for example, or assignment as Intelligence Officer on a tiny surveillance submarine off the coast of California. Gyrus hated the cold, and got very seasick, but the Powers That Be were unlikely to care, and even if they did, the other options for disposal his imagination had come up with were many and varied.

Corporal Gyrus’ thoughts were interrupted by the door opening and he jumped to attention and saluted along with everyone else as the person they were waiting for entered. The officer in question waved them back to their seats with an absent, “As you were,” but Gyrus still waited until she was seated before returning to his own chair. Majorno, Colonel Theodora Nixon was unassuming, almost frail-looking, but it was well known that she had, in fact, beaten both Sir Arthur Ramirez of the Heir’s Guard and Sir Adun al-Raziq of the King’s Guard in full-contact hand-to-hand sparring on several occasions, and anyone who could boast that was definitely not to be taken lightly.

The Colonel placed two stacks of folders, and another stack of envelopes on the table and leaned back. “Captain,” she greeted, nodding at Benson, then continuing around the table, making eye contact with each of those present and subtly emphasising her authority as she did so. “Well, inti and eni, you’re probably wondering why you’re here,” she continued when she was finished, smiling slightly. She was answered by a series of nervous grins. “First of all, I’d like to commend you on the reports you filed regarding the incidents that took place during the Invasion.” She tapped one pile of folders. “What I have here” She touched the other pile. “are the new reports that each of you will read, sign, and re-file. These new, more efficient reports place less emphasis on the actions of Lady Alleandre during the incidents in question.”

Gyrus blinked, but wasn’t terribly surprised. This was one of the scenarios he had come up with in the last few months. A glance to his right at Corporal Iglesias’ cough showed that she appeared less comfortable, likely because of the implied dishonesty of such an action. Colonel Nixon noticed as well, and smiled flatly. “You may rest assured that your original documents will remain on file as Eyes-Only for the Director of the Guard. Those that you re-file will be for the benefit of those who are focusing on the more

pertinent aspects of the Invasion.”

The committees and investigators digging into the background of the Invasion, Gyrus translated. People who don’t need to be trusted with what could be considered extraneous details.

Now the Colonel held up one of the envelopes. “Once you have signed your reports, you will each receive one of these packets. In them you will find your options for your own future dispositions.” Now Gyrus tensed again, and felt the others do the same. “In section Alpha you will find the required paperwork to return to your regular units and service. If you take this option you will also sign a comprehensive Oath of Confidentiality, with severe penalties for Oathbreaking. Good luck, enjoy your life, and I sincerely hope we never hear of your name again in relation to this incident.” Colonel Nixon’s hard glare drilled each of them, though her tone remained matter-of-fact. After a moment she continued. “On the other hand, in section Bravo you will find the documentation needed to transfer to the Heir Consort’s Personal Guard

under myself as commander.”

Now Gyrus almost gaped in shock and only barely stopped himself. Colonel Nixon’s appointment as Master of the Heir Consort’s Guard had obviously followed the death of Captain Emil al-Rahan, the previous Master, who had survived the Invasion only to tragically die in a car accident six weeks later. There had been several rumours over who might replace him, and while the newly-promoted Colonel Nixon’s name wasn’t among those Gyrus had heard, it wasn’t surprising. Corporal Iglesias raised her hand tentatively and voiced the shock they were all feeling. “Uh, Ma’am, can we do that? You usually need a lot of seniority to be assigned to a post like that, and we’re

well, not. Senior, that is. Except for Captain Benson, Ma’am, and she’s not Guard; she’s Navy.” Iglesias fidgeted as she pointed out the obvious.

“Usually, yes, a degree of seniority and experience is expected, if not strictly required,” Colonel Nixon replied mildly. “However, these are extraordinary circumstances, just as Lady Alleandre is an extraordinary protectee. Frankly, the main reason you’re being offered this chance is because you already know of Her Ladyship’s special status. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t other good reasons. You are all good operatives, even if most of you are, as you said, lacking in experience and seniority. For that matter, given Lady Alleandre’s talents, I’m unsure just how much use we would be as guardians in any case. But that is what we are going to find out. With these unique circumstances, chances are we’ll be tossing a large portion of the regular Personal Guard manual out the window. We need to know whichpart, and it will actually help to have agents who are not totally bound by previous precedent. When it comes to the normal procedures and tactics, I can teach you. And believe me, if you decide to join you will be undergoing so much training there will be times you’ll wish you hadn’t.” The Colonel’s grin was predatory. “On the other side, I need you to come up with ideas and opinions that we will then test in simulation.” She shrugged. “Some will work. Some won’t. If it works you’ll be commended. If it doesn’t, we’ll just go back to the drawing board.” She smiled again. “I can guarantee you one thing: it will certainly never be boring.”

Ally felt warm and relaxed as she lay curled up on the couch in the circle of Evelynne’s arms. She thought they might look vaguely ridiculous, given the difference in their sizes, but the only other person in the room didn’t look like she was about to make any comment. In fact, Claire’s expression when she glanced at them from her own chair was preoccupied, as if she wanted to ask a question, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Claire saw that Ally was watching, and quickly directed her attention back to the television, where a rerun of The Simpsons was the evening’s entertainment.

Ally sighed mentally. She knew what question Claire wanted to ask, and was torn about how to answer it. Ever since Ally had returned in disarray two days before, Claire had been obviously holding herself back from asking. It had been easy to avoid the next day, as Ally was bedridden with the effects of smoke inhalation, not to mention psychic exhaustion, and had spent nearly the whole day sleeping. The constant coughing as her lungs tried to expel the irritants she had inhaled had not been conducive to conversation. Corey, who had been much more vocal in his questions, had been working much longer hours recently, and had been relatively easy to avoid.

Today, though, Ally was feeling much better, although her throat and lungs were still irritated. Evelynne and Claire had spent the whole previous day tending to her and Ally was feeling guilty about her silence.That guilt was worrying her, because she felt a strong urge to tell Claire everything, and that was unusual, to say the least. The last person she had felt the urge to “come out” to had been Evelynne. Even Chorus, possibly her closest friend, had only discovered her secret by accident. For that matter, so had Evelynne, although Ally had intended to tell her before she found out. The last person she had intentionally exposed herself to had been Anabel Bourne, her first lover.

Ally saw Claire dart a look in her direction again. She looked up at her lover and asked a silent question.

You want to tell her? Evelynne replied. What, exactly?

Not everything. Not about us. Not even about me, really. Just a little about the fire. Ally saw Evelynne think for a moment, and then nod almost imperceptibly.

Not quite sure how to begin, Ally said, her voice still rough, “Claire, I just want to say thanks for helping me the last couple of days. I really do appreciate it.”

Claire smiled. “It was no problem, really. I was happy to help.” She frowned suddenly, worried. “I mean, I’m not happy you were hurt, or sick, but because you were I was glad to”

Ally grinned at the near babble. “Claire, I get it. And thank you.” She hesitated. “About thethe fire

“

“You don’t have to tell me,” Claire said quickly. “I mean, it’sWell, it’s”

“No, you deserve to know,” Ally interrupted. A little, anyway. Well, actually, you deserve the whole truth, but we’ll start with what I can tell you. “IWith the fire, I actually went into the building.” Claire’s eyes widened, but she didn’t seem completely surprised. Yeah, I knew you were smart enough to figure that out. “I have thisWell, a therapist I once had called it a ‘Superman Complex’. Or maybe ‘Wonder Woman Complex’.” Ally felt a burst of amusement over her link with Evelynne. “Sometimes, when there are people in trouble I just go in and help them. I don’t even think about it sometimes. I mean, I don’t go around looking for people to save, but if there are I just

do it.” Not just humans, either. There was that time on Mom’s boat when I jumped into the Pacific because a porpoise was caught in that fishing net. Almost drowned there.

“Oh. Well, that’s good of you, isn’t it? I mean, it just shows that you’re really brave.”

Ally shook her head uncertainly. “Well, not really. I think to be brave you have to decide to do it. I don’t. I just react. And it really isn’t good, because a lot of the time I don’t stop to think about how dangerous it might be. Like, going into that fire wasn’t really brave.Iit was stupid, really. I did manage to pull one person out, but

” She coughed, and shifted. “I almost didn’t.” She felt Evelynne’s arms tighten around her. “In retrospect, it was one of the dumbest things I’ve done in a long time.” We’ll ignore the fact that that girl basically called to me empathically, and if she’d died while she was in my head I would have felt it.

Claire looked like she disagreed. “I don’t know. I think it’s ‘cause you care. I mean, maybe jumping in without knowing how dangerous it is might be kind of unthinking, but I think the reason you do it is because you feel for people,” she concluded with emphasis.

That’s what Evelynne said, Ally thought. And Mom and Dad. Although Dad did yell at me first for being stupid that time with the porpoise. I just don’t know how to explain that it isn’t really because I feel for people, but more just because I feel them. “Yeah, well. I just thought you should know kind of what happened,” she said uncomfortably.

Claire smiled at her, then at Evelynne. “Thank you,” she said. She looked at them quizzically for a moment, as though she knew there was more to the whole story.

But the whole story is for another time.

Evelynne looked up as Jean walked around behind the bar, dark glasses still on despite the dim light. “Jean, you’re here,” she said.

The other woman noticed her for the first time and peered at her over the top of her glasses. “Sophia, hey,” Jean replied. “Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s all right,” Evelynne said, smiling. “Just give me a moment, all right? I need to give back some change.” She hurried off, returning a few minutes later slipping a ten-dollar bill into her pocket. She mentally shook her head bemusedly. She had rarely handled cash before leaving Atlantl, and she certainly didn’t need the money now.

“I didn’t think you’d be in today,” Jean said when she returned. “I thought you had the day off.”

“I had a banking errand,” Evelynne replied vaguely. “I just stopped by to see how things were and Narmin roped me in. So, what happened to you?” she asked, taking in Jean’s appearance. Her co-worker looked exhausted, despite the makeup that had been applied in an attempt to hide the fact.

Jean winced as she tied on her apron. “I stuck around after work last night, just to hang out, you know? Well, I drank way more than I should have, and picked up this woman and went back to her place. At least, I think that’s what happened, because I honestly don’t remember much before waking up in her bed this morning. I actually didn’t drink that much, but there was this one drink

Whew, I don’t know what was in it, but it sure kicked me in the head.”

Evelynne smiled in sympathy, although internally she frowned at her friend’s promiscuous attitude. She had nothing against anything that went on between informed, consenting parties, but personally couldn’t even conceive of having sex with someone she wasn’t in love with. There was a certain fantasy appeal to daydreaming about various other peopleshe had finally managed to coax some of Ally’s fantasies into the openbut actually going the next step was baffling. “Well, I hope you were safe.”

“Oh, if the remains lying around this morning were any indication, we were certainly safe,” Jean assured her. Changing the subject, she asked, “So how’s your other half today? She feeling better?”

Evelynne shook her head ruefully. “Oh, she’s feeling better. I left her and Claire engaged in deadly combat.” Jean looked at her blankly. “Some sort of game where they each have a fighter and proceed to kick and punch each other into oblivion. At this point I don’t even think they know I’m gone.” Ally had been ahead when she’d left, a result, Evelynne suspected, of her lover’s enhanced mental processes, but Claire had been developing an almost prescient ability to counter Ally’s attacks, and was quickly closing the gap.

Jean laughed. “Ah, the joys of geekdom. No offence to Ally,” she said quickly. “Really hot geekdom, anyway.”

“That’s all right. Ally was the one who explained to me what a geek is. She even has a membership card for Nerds Incorporated’. And I certainly agree with the ‘really hot’ part.”

“Mmm

” Jean looked glassy-eyed. “You wouldn’t consider sharing her, would you?”

Evelynne chuckled. “With you? N’at-kar, as we say in Lantlan. Not a chance. We’re waiting for Angelina Jolie, you know.”

Jean snapped her fingers and sighed dramatically. “Damn. Just have to stick with ‘Little Ally’, then.”

Evelynne’s brows rose. “And just who is ‘Little Ally’?”

“She’s the companion of ‘Little Sophia’, of course.” Evelynne kept looking at her. “Oops, can’t talk now,” Jean said, grabbing a stack of menus. “Customers in my zone.”

“What do you have, Jordan?” the well-dressed man asked as his second-in-command walked into the hotel suite. He lounged back in his armchair and returned to his newspaper.

“We have a location, sir,” Jordan replied, causing his superior to look up quickly. “Our source inside came through with this.” He held out a folder.

The other man snatched the file and leafed through it. “When can you confirm this?” he asked, not looking up from the contents.

“Already done, sir,” Jordan opened a large envelope and offered a series of photographs. “These just came from a contact in the area.”

The photographs were inspected carefully. “It certainly looks like her. What about the other one? Do you haveOh, never mind, here she is.” A new set of photos were scrutinised. “And everything else checks out?” The well-dressed man pointed to one picture. “And she’s actually doing this?” He shook his head. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“It seems so, sir. And we’ve been able to corroborate as much as we can. You know how they’ve boosted security.” Jordan shrugged.

The semi-apology was waved off. “Oh, I know. That maniac they’ve got in charge of their investigation now is effective, I’ll give him that. Three quarters of my sources in that organisation have either been nabbed or been keeping a very low profile. It’s

vexing.”

“Yes, sir. Shall I prepare the lads, sir?”

“Do it.” The well-dressed man caressed a photo showing a smiling red-haired woman. “It’s time to earn our princely wages.”

Chapter 12

“Sure, no problem,” Ally said into the phone. She listened for a moment. “Of course

Okay, I’ll see you soon. I love you. Bye.” Hanging up, she turned to her two companions. “That was Sophia. She’s going to be a bit late tonight. Apparently they’re really busy at the bar.” She looked out the window at the slowly deepening darkness. “I think I’m going to head down and walk her home.”

Corey punched a button on the console before him, freezing Claire’s avatar in mid-flying kick, and his own in mid-cower. “How about we come with you?” he said, glancing at Claire. “I don’t like you walking around out there on your own.”

“You don’t have to,” Ally protested. “I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, but I’d just feel better,” Corey said firmly. He looked at the frozen TV screen. “Besides, it’ll let me refresh my reserves of manliness.”

Claire laughed. “You just don’t want us kicking your ass any more. Time to own up that you’re pathetic at this.”

“Hardly,” Corey said, sniffing dismissively. “I merely have a natural and entirely civilised aversion to such barbaric gladiatorial pastimes. I am engaging in passive resistance, ultimately making me the winner. Gandhi would be proud.”

Ally and Claire both laughed. “Listen, Gandhi would be kicking your ass right about now,” Ally stated.

Corey paused for a moment. “True,” he said slowly. He brightened. “But wouldn’t that mean that I’ve gone beyond even him?” He looked at his companions’ faces and his own fell. “No, huh?”

“I feel so much better now that you’re coming along to protect me,” Ally said dryly.

“Do you mind if I come, too?” Claire asked.

“You want to?” Ally asked in surprise. Claire only rarely went out anywhere, and had visited the Sixth Age only once since Ally’s birthday.

“Well, I might not go in,” Claire admitted, “but I could use a walk and some fresh air. To clear my head.”

Ally nodded. Claire had experienced a fairly major attack that afternoon, the chaotic images and sounds leaving her with a headache and little energy. It wasn’t surprising that she wanted a change of scenery. “Okay. I’m just going to change and then we’ll head out.”

“Ally, hi,” Evelynne greeted enthusiastically but with some distractedness. Given the crowded nature of her workplace this evening the distraction wasn’t unexpected. She was still focussed enough to kiss her lover briefly but fully, earning a series of whistles and cheers from a particularly inebriated group just down the bar. Evelynne scowled at them playfully as Ally blushed. “Ignore them,” she said. “Oh, hi Corey.” She looked around. “Claire didn’t come?”

“No, she did, she just decided to stay outside and read for a while. She’s not ready to face the masses yet,” Corey explained, his eyes roving over the crowd.

“Oh, all right,” Evelynne said, feeling sympathy for the other woman. However, she knew that Claire was enough like Ally to truly prefer her solitude. “So right now we’re swamped, as you can see. I’m going to be a while yet. I’m sorry for getting you down here too early. Do you want to stay around? I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

Ally looked at Corey. “I’ll stick around,” she said. “I might go out and keep Claire company in a while. I think she wants some time alone right now.”

Corey nodded, his eyes still browsing the crowd. “I’ll stay.” Seeing a particularly attractive man on the small dance floor he whistled soundlessly. “Mmm, it’s better than shopping!”

Evelynne laughed. “Have fun. Oh, Sammy and Josh are” She squinted into the semi-darkness. “ah yes, right over there.” She pointed. “If you want to hang out.” She noticed Erin, her fellow server, signal in her direction. “Well, I have to get back to the oricalc mines. Enjoy!” She kissed her lover again, and then headed back to the fray.

Narmin came up behind Evelynne as she stood behind the bar and tapped her shoulder. “Sophia, I think you can go now,” she said, looking out over the establishment. “We’ve quieted down a lot.” Evelynne nodded. While still busy, the bar had lost the unusual density of earlier in the evening. “Good job tonight. You’re really getting into this.”

“Thank you,” Evelynne replied. “It’s fun, actually.” She was surprised by how much she had come to enjoy bartending and waitressing.

“Good to hear. Anyway, I think we’re going to open a bit late tomorrow so that the cleaners can really go over this place after tonight, so you can take the morning off. If you can come in around two that would be great.”

“Of course,” Evelynne agreed, getting her light jacket from under the bar and slipping into it. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Good night!” Waving a farewell to Hal and Erin, she headed out into the bar to find her partner.

She quickly found Corey deep in spirited, if incomprehensible, conversation with Sammy’s brother, Timothy. They were both obviously very inebriated, and from the way they were sitting close to each other Evelynne thought it possible that Corey would be staying elsewhere that night. She was a little concerned by Timothy’s possible reaction to Corey’s real status, but not too much so, since she had spoken with him previously and knew him to be a kind and gentle man. Of course, if he was presently considering a tryst with an apparent male, Timothy was obviously more open than she thought. Who knew, the revelation of Corey’s physical status might be a pleasant beginning to a longer-term relationship, if he was this accepting of Corey’s present appearance.

Evelynne shook her head to still her babbling thoughts. She was feeling a little strange, and put it down to exhaustion and the tiring evening. Looking around the table, also occupied by Josh, Sammy, and another couple she didn’t recognise, she didn’t see her partner anywhere. “Hi. Do you know where Ally is?” she asked.

“Sophia, hi!” Corey said brightly. He frowned, trying to collect his fuzzy thoughts. “Uh… she went off to get us some drinks a while ago.” He pouted. “She didn’t come back. I think we saw her dancing out there. Didn’t we?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Josh affirmed, less under the influence than most at the table. “She seemed to be having fun.”

Evelynne was surprised. Ally hardly ever went dancing unless Evelynne herself asked her. “Really? Oh, all right.” She looked out to the dance floor, which was still fairly crowded, but didn’t see her fianc?e anywhere.

“I haven’t seen her for a bit,” Josh continued. “She might have gone outside. Your friend Claire’s out there, isn’t she?”

Evelynne brightened. “Oh, that’s right.” She turned to Corey again. “Are you coming back with us?”

Corey looked at his new companion. “No, I’ll stay a while longer.”

“Well, call a cab if you’re coming home,” Evelynne said, smiling. “We’ll cover it, don’t worry.”

Bidding final farewells to her friends, Evelynne made her way outside. Once there she paused a moment to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. She glanced at her watch. Two thirty. Isis, no wonder I’m tired. I’ve been in there for eleven hours. She saw Claire sitting at one of the small street tables under a light, reading, and walked over.

Claire looked up as the shadow fell across her. “Sophia, hi!” she said, unknowingly echoing Corey’s greeting and putting the book into her jacket pocket. She looked around. “Isn’t Ally coming?”

Evelynne frowned. “I thought she was out here with you. She hasn’t come out?”

“No, I haven’t seen her since she went in.”

“Hmm. Well, let’s go see.” Evelynne re-entered the restaurant, Claire in tow. Reaching the bar, she caught Hal’s attention. “Hal, have you seen Ally?”

“I thought I saw her a little while ago on the dance floor. What happened? You two miss paths or something?”

“It looks like it,” Evelynne admitted. She frowned, less worried than confused. Concentrating on her link to her partner, she tried to find Ally’s presence, but either there was some sort of static, or, more likely, the mental bond was being typically erratic.

“You’ve checked outside?” Hal asked.

“Yes, I was out there. She didn’t come out,” Claire said. Her voice was distracted.

The bartender shrugged. “Well, you could always try the”

“Bathroom.” Claire’s tone was suddenly strained, and Evelynne’s head whipped around to stare at her friend. Claire was gripping the front of the bar with both hands, her wide-eyed gaze looking at nothing Evelynne could see. Slowly, with obvious difficulty, she managed to focus on Evelynne again. “She’s in the bathroom. And” Breaking off, Claire started stumbling towards the washrooms at the back of the restaurant, barely avoiding customers as she went.

Evelynne caught up with her, grabbing her arm just in time to lead her around a dancing couple. “Claire? What’s happening?”

“She’s in the bathroom,” Claire repeated. “I canShe’s with…” She trailed off as they came to the outer doors to the ladies’ room.

The washroom was more brightly lit than the bar outside, and Evelynne blinked in reaction. There was a woman reapplying makeup in front of the mirrors, but Ally couldn’t be seen. “I don’t think she’s here,” Evelynne said.

Claire looked confused. “But I thoughtI was sure she was here.” She looked around, seemingly free of the odd compulsion that had led her here.

“Are you all right?” Evelynne asked, taking her arm gently to lead her out. “You looked”

She froze suddenly as a sound registered. She had heard something similar several weeks previously, in this same bathroom, when she had been an auditory witness, along with a number of others, to the sounds of two women enjoying each other in one of the stalls. This time she stopped, unseeing, because she recognised one of the sets of heavy breathing and quiet whimpers intimately.

Walking in a daze, Evelynne found herself in front of a stall door and watched her hand go out to push it open, not even surprised to find it unlatched, heart pounding as she feared what she’d find, and hoped she wouldn’t.

Her fears were realised and her hopes were dashed.

There were two women in the stall. One was Ally, sitting on the toilet tank, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. The second, whom Evelynne didn’t recognise, was standing between Ally’s spread legs, straddling the bowl, with her head buried in Ally’s neck and one hand somewhere between them. The expression on Ally’s face was one that Evelynne knew well, and which she had thought would be hers alone for the rest of their lives.

“Ally?” Evelynne whispered brokenly, her mind and body numb, not hearing the gasp from Claire behind her as she took in the scene.

Ally’s eyes opened to see her fianc?e, and there was no guilt, no remorse in them. She smiled instead, and Evelynne felt like a railroad spike had been driven through her chest. She stumbled back a step as the other woman in the stall jumped away from Ally, whirling to face them. She was attractive, Evelynne noticed with odd clarity; medium-length blonde hair, a generous mouth, and light blue eyes that were now wide with all the shock and embarrassment that Ally wasn’t expressing. Evelynne’s eyes were dragged back to Ally as she was fully revealed. Her shirt had been pushed up to expose her stomach, and her jeans had been undone and pushed a little down on her hips. She wasn’t fully exposed, but it was obvious where the other woman’s hand had been, and another spike drove through Evelynne’s stomach.

“Ally?” Evelynne whispered again hoarsely.

Ally hopped down from the toilet unashamedly, smiling as she landed a little unsteadily. “Evelynne,” she murmured huskily. She took a step forward, which was matched when Evelynne stumbled back. Ally frowned and looked at Evelynne curiously, while the unknown woman tried to sink through the wall of the stall. Abruptly, Ally stopped, her face going completely blank. Then it animated again, but in confusion, as she looked down uncomprehendingly at herself. She raised a hand before her face and stared at it as though she’d never seen it before. Her eyes rolled as she looked around the vicinity, her gaze never focussing on anything, and she took another step forward, leaning on the wall with her hand as she stumbled again. “Evelynne?” she said again, her voice raw with confusion this time. “IWhat”

Then her eyes widened even further and rolled back in her head, and despite everything Evelynne still caught her instinctively as she collapsed to the floor.

Chapter 13

Evelynne sat on the hard, uncomfortable chair in the hospital hallway with her face in her hands and tried to control her roiling emotions. Around her other patients, doctors, and families dealt with their own situations, and a television played in one corner, but they all sounded like they were on the other side of a thick glass wall. Evelynne’s thoughts whirled around and around; memories of how she had come to be here mixing with older ones, shock, worry and a sense of betrayal. She can’t have meant to do it, a small voice tried to make itself heard. She was drunk, or sick, oror

She really wanted all this to be a nightmare, wake up next to her lover’s comforting presence, and crawl into a warm embrace until it was all better again.

Maybe she did mean to do it, another part said. Maybe she’s changed, just like she was always worried she would. It was a concern of Ally’s, Evelynne knew, that her expanding mental abilities would one day change her thought processes so much that she would no longer think in the same way others did. Is this some way that she’s changed, that she’s no longer the Ally I know? Is she

“Sophia?” Evelynne didn’t register the soft voice next to her. “Sophia?” Still nothing. “Evelynne?” That name made her come back to herself with a start, and her head jerked up to see Claire’s variegated face. Claire smiled hesitantly at her still-stunned face and held out an object. “I got you something to drink. It’s orange juice,” she continued apologetically. “You really don’t want to try the coffee they have around here.”

Evelynne took the proffered bottle automatically and looked down again. “Thanks,” she said dully. “I” She swallowed convulsively. “I”

Claire wrapped a gentle arm around her, drawing her head down, and holding Evelynne, who began to sob into her shoulder. She murmured meaningless comfort words into the redhead’s ear until the cries slowed and stopped. Evelynne finally pulled away slightly, but remained leaning against her friend. “It’ll be okay, Evelynne,” Claire murmured in a tone that was deliberately convincing. “She’ll be okay. She’s just

” she trailed off uncertainly.

“I know,” Evelynne said, smiling sadly, although it was uncertain what she was agreeing to. “I want

” She faltered, the wish unspoken but not unheard.

A white-coated doctor emerged from behind a closed door, and Claire shook Evelynne slightly to draw her attention. Evelynne bolted to her feet and stood anxiously as the doctor made a note on a chart and walked closer. “Sophia Doherty?” she asked. Evelynne nodded. Drawing the other two women into a quieter corner, the doctor smiled a professionally reassuring smile. “I’m Doctor Turner. Allison Parks, she’s your friend?”

“She’s my partner,” Evelynne said. “My fianc?e.” Her stare dared the doctor to make something of it, but it lacked the fire it usually had.

Dr Turner just took it in stride. “We’ve managed to calm her with a mild sedative,” she continued. “I have some other questions I need to ask.” She referred to the chart. “Ms Doherty, does Allison take any drugs? I know you filled out that she doesn’t but this is very important. Nobody’s going to get in trouble.”

Evelynne shook her head vehemently. “No, never. She drinks once in a while, but even then she doesn’t like getting drunk.”

“All right. Is she on any medication?” Another headshake. “Does she suffer from any psychological or neural disorders?”

Evelynne hesitated. “She’s got some

unexplained brain activity,” she said slowly. “Sometimes it shows up like a stroke or a seizure.” Or throwing books across the room without touching them, or lifting refrigerators single-handed, or flying, or knowing what people are thinking. “Nobody’s been able to figure out what it is, and it’s always been temporary, so

“

“I see. Do you know who we can contact for her previous medical records?”

Evelynne paused again. “I could get them from Atlantl,” she said. “But it might take a while.”

Dr Turner nodded. “If you can that would be very helpful. Listen, I’ve ordered some tests, and we’re going to be moving Allison up to another ward in a few minutes. I’ll get an orderly to show you the way.”

“Can we see her?” Claire asked, speaking up for the first time.

“Not yet,” the doctor replied. “She seems to be somewhat delusional right now, and I’m afraid new people might exacerbate the situation. However, we’ll let you know as soon as we find anything.” With a final smile, the doctor headed off.

Evelynne stood silently for a moment while Claire hovered nervously near her, and then turned. “I’ve got to call” She started towards a bank of phones. If Ally needed help, she was going back to Atlantl to get it, even if it meant breaking cover. Besides, it had been months without any hint of danger, so maybe that meant that

She froze suddenly, her attention focussing on the television in the corner, where the news anchor’s face was replaced by another. It was her own. Evelynne’s vision tunnelled to that screen, and the anchor’s voice cut through all the other noise.

“

breaking news, British sources report that Princess Evelynne deMolay, Heir to the Atlantean regime, has been assassinated in England.” The picture cut to a street, barricaded behind yellow tape and swarming with police and a few people in Atlantlan Guard uniform. “Princess Evelynne was apparently in hiding following the unsuccessful revolution in Atlantis which took place almost four months ago. An Atlantean tradition believed to be called the Geranin Protocol calls for the Princess to seek shelter in order to preserve the ruling family’s line. The scene changed to Evelynne and Alleandre standing before the Hall of Nobles Princess Evelynne is most recently well-known for her controversial engagement to one of her female subjects, Dame Alleandre Tretiak, a Canadian citizen who saved Her Highness from a previous assassination attempt last year. It is uncertain whether the Princess’ homosexual lifestyle was a factor in either the attempted revolution or her assassination earlier today. Dame Tretiak, Her Highness’ companion, is reported to be in critical condition in a local hospital. The Atlantean regime has yet to offer an official statement

“

The anchor continued, but Evelynne was no longer listening, and time and her surroundings came back in a rush. “I can’t,” she murmured, unaware that she was speaking aloud. “They’re still there. And they” She stopped and realised that Claire was at her shoulder, looking at the television screen.

Claire looked from the image to her friend, and then back again. “She’s you, isn’t she?” she said quietly. “I mean, you’re her.”

Evelynne sighed. “Yes,” she said, not bothering to deny it.

“And then Ally’s

“

“Yes.”

“Allison Parks. Ally Parks. Alleandre Tretiak. She’s from some place called Parktown or something, isn’t she?”

“Parksville, in British Columbia.”

Claire nodded at the screen. “So then who died?”

Evelynne looked at the floor. “A decoy,” she said. “One of the false leads.” Another Guard who died protecting me.

“Oh. But why come here?” Claire’s gesture took in all of Horton City.

Evelynne’s smile was without humour. “Would you expect to find me here? Working in a bar? Living in an apartment?” She looked at the screen again, and this time there was fury in her gaze. “They certainly didn’t.”

King Jad stormed into his office, placed his fists on his desk, and glared at the assembled people. “Talk to me,” he ordered flatly. The officials present had all worked with him for a long time, so they were more used to his temper than most, but even the hardiest of them felt an animal twinge of fear at his rage. All, that is, but Queen Cleo, who looked back at him calmly, controlling her own anger and daring him to unleash his own. The King got the message and visibly forced himself to calm.

“We’re still sorting out the details, Your Majesties,” reported General Graham ab-Warat, the new Director of the Common Guard, “but we know what happened in general terms. Guard Jacqueline Usher was masquerading as Her Highness, and Guard Try’en L’Amorat was pretending to be Lady Alleandre. Together they comprised a decoy unit codenamed Bane-Sidhe. They had a Personal Guard escort of four other agents, which is consistent with a covert protection mission. Usher is dead, along with three of the auxiliary agents, L’Amorat is in serious but stable condition, and the final agent wasn’t even present at the time of the attack and is unhurt. As you know, decoy units take all precautions as if they were the real objective, thereby spreading out potential targets, and increasing the chances that an attack will hit the wrong one. As it did this time.”

“But how did any target get hit?” Queen Cleo asked before the King could. “Are we looking at another leak?”

General ab-Warat nodded unhappily. “We believe so, Madam. Oh, it’s possible that Bane-Sidhe was seen purely by chance and the information passed on”

“Not with the luck we’ve been having,” King Jad muttered darkly.

“Exactly, Sire. It’s far more likely that someone still in the Guard either stumbled on or purposefully found a list of decoy locations. Under ‘normal’ Geranin Protocol the real Heir would be hidden amongst the decoys. Whoever found the list either truly believed Bane-Sidhe was real, or decided to eliminate a decoy regardless. If the latter, the motive could be an attempt to flush out the other decoys.”

“Will that work?” the Queen asked.

“It could, Madam.” The General shrugged uncertainly. “Once in the field, each decoy unit is effectively autonomous. What each unit does will depend on the operatives involved and the choices they make. Some may believe that staying put is safer, others may choose to relocate. Unless we simply issue a general recall order.”

“Not yet,” the King said decisively. “What about the actual attackers? Do you know who they are?”

Omar ibn Larak, the King’s Foreign Affairs Advisor, replied. “Sire, I’ve been in contact with the British government, Interpol, and British security, who managed to capture two of the attackers. Six others were killed by the, er, decoy unit, and several others got away. From what they know so far, the attackers were hit men, assassins-for-hire. Good ones, apparently. Ex-military, although they don’t knowwhich military yet. One has an American accent, the other English, so it’s unlikely they’re part of an official covert military unit. MI-5 will be conducting the interrogations, and will brief us completely on what they find out.”

“Good.” The King seemed to collapse suddenly and leaned back in his chair, the months of work he’d been doing catching up. “Now, how do we handle this publicly? What do we tell the media?” He looked at his co-ruler, who was the unofficial “Foreign Relations” side of the Diarchy.

“I say we tell the truth,” the Queen said decisively. “At least, as much of the truth as is prudent.” She saw General ab-Warat frown, along with both her and the King’s Security Advisors. “You disagree?”

The General looked at the other two. “From a purely security standpoint it wouldn’t be my first choice, Madam. The whole world thinks Her Highness is dead, so it’s possible, even probable, that whoever is behind this attack thinks so, too. As long as he or she thinks she is, she’s safe from further attempts. Ideally, this is the time to let our opponent continue to think so. However, I realise that this is not purely an intelligence matter.”

“He’s right, Madam,” ibn Larak agreed. “From an espionage standpoint. However, we need to look at a larger picture than that. The Atlantlan people, as well as our alliesand enemies, for that matterneed to know that Princess Evelynne is still the Heir to the Throne. Few things can threaten a hereditary system like ours as much as a crisis of Succession. Granted, there are provisions in the Law for the Advisory Councils to act as Regent, but the Nobility is there to act as a stabiliser, as a source of constancy. Now, Her Highness actually is alive, but what’s keeping up public morale is the knowledge that she is. I’m not saying people will panic, but the long-term risks are greater.”

“It’s important in terms of international politics,” the Queen added. “If we tell everyone she’s dead, and then she comes back alive and well, our credibility in the international arena will be badly shaken. Never mind that we had logical reasons for doing so; most countries listen to their voters, rather than intelligence and common sense, and those voters will just see how deceitful we’ve been.”

“I agree with Cleo,” the King said. He smiled apologetically at General ab-Warat. “Sorry, Graham. So, we need to issue a statement.” He looked at the Queen, who nodded. “Very well, what we need then is input. I want to be able to give as much truthful information as possible without jeopardising my daughter, the remaining decoy units, or national security in general. You have an hour.”

Six steps, turn, six steps back. Repeat. Evelynne paced the length of the small waiting room, her anxiety growing with every turn.

Despite knowing what had happened in England, she had tried calling for help anyway, using a number registered to Meghan Doherty. Her surrogate “aunt” hadn’t answered the phone, but the message on the answering service had been chilling. “I’m sorry, I’m away from home because of a family emergency,” it had said. “I will likely be away for three or four weeks, and may be unable to reply to messages. If this is truly urgent, please call 010-8907-7534.” In and of themselves, the words were innocuous. However, the “family emergency” was obvious to one who knew the code, “three or four weeks” meant that the situation was very unsafe, and an inability to reply actually told her to avoid all further contact. However, in an extreme emergency Evelynne was sure the number she was given would have her extracted to a secure location as quickly as possible.

All of this meant that until the situation in Atlantl was calmed, she and Ally were on their own.

Not completely on their own. Narmin was currently fetching a change of clothing from their apartment, and Claire was off trying to find something for her friends to eat. The number of friends they actually had was heartening.

As though the thought had summoned her, Claire appeared through a doorway, another woman in tow, and Evelynne froze, her eyes narrowing, as she recognised the woman who had been in the stall with Ally. As they approached, the woman obviously reluctantly, Evelynne forced down her instinct to attack.

“Sophia, this is Joline,” Claire said hesitantly. “She was, uh

She”

“I know,” Evelynne said flatly. “I remember.”

Joline, an attractive blonde in her thirties, looked away guiltily. “II wanted to say I’m sorry,” she began in a low voice. “Isis she going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Evelynne replied, her tone thawing minutely at the obvious distress on the other woman’s face.

“Oh. II just wanted to say that I didn’t know,” Joline continued awkwardly. “I don’tIf I’d known she was with someone else, I never would have

“

“Taken her to the bathroom?”

“No! I’ve never done anything like that before. And I didn’t. She took me.”

As Evelynne gaped at Joline, a polite cough behind her caught her attention, and she turned to see Dr Turner. “Ms Doherty, I’m sorry it’s taken so long, but I think we know what happened, although there are still some aspects of your partner’s condition that are baffling us. Would you like some privacy?” The doctor nodded to a quieter corner.

Evelynne shook her head impatiently. “Just tell me.”

Dr Turner consulted the chart in her hands. “We’ve got some of the blood work back, and we’ve found traces of a chemical with a similar composition to the drug rohypnol.”

Evelynne looked blank, but both Claire and Joline gasped. “It’s called the date rape drug,” Claire explained, her voice filled with dread.

“One of them,” the doctor confirmed. “Now, we’re not positive yet, but it’s either a more powerful version, or Allison is having a much more severe reaction to it. Normally, the drug loosens inhibitions, making the recipient more susceptible to suggestion. Afterwards, it also tends to have a dampening effect on memory, which is, unfortunately, why it is so popular amongst those who slip it into the drinks of unsuspecting victims. It can also be more potent when combined with alcohol. Now, all of this in itself would be enough to create some very serious effects, but it seems to have hit Allison particularly hard. From what we’ve seen, rather than simply suppressing her inhibitions lightly, it seems to have stripped them away completely. It explains some of her actions when she first arrived. If this is what happened, she would likely have acted on any urge that happened to strike her, regardless of consequences, appropriateness, or whether she normally would.” Dr Turner looked grim. “We have managed to sedate her, although since we’re uncertain how she would react to new drugs it’s not as heavily as I’d like. We’re also required to notify the police, and they should be here shortly to begin their investigation. It would help if you could tell them where she was, what she was doing, and who she was with.”

Evelynne nodded, her mind struggling to process this information. It wasn’t her fault, she thought with a confused feeling of relief. She just saw Joline, and was attracted, and with nothing inside to stop her she acted on it. Evelynne could see how her partner would be attracted. The blonde woman had features in common with Annie, Ally’s first lover, and from what Ally had said, there had been no lack of “urges” in that relationship. Evelynne wasn’t even particularly jealous about that, since she and Ally had both been very honest with each other about other women they found appealing. And equally honest that neither would do anything to act on those attractions. And she wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for Her eyes widened suddenly, and she whirled on the woman whom Ally had succumbed to.

Joline looked at her, and then her own eyes widened. “No!” she blurted before Evelynne could speak. “I would never! I’d never do anything like that. I wouldn’t

” She trailed off, her eyes pleading.

Evelynne stared at her, looking for any hint that the other woman was lying, and finding nothing but honest distress. Guilt, yes, but not because of anything more than being intimate with another woman’s partner. “I believe you.” Forcing herself to relax slightly, Evelynne faced the doctor once more, and a thought struck her. That time she was up on stage, singing, I remember thinking that she really wasn’t like Ally. “I think it happened before,” she said slowly. “She did some other things that weren’t normal for her, but they weren’t as bad as this. Oh, and a friend of mine was telling me about going home with someone, but not remembering much about it, and she hadn’t been drinking much, either.” Isis, if Jean got this, too

Dr Turner looked grave. “Be sure to tell the police, and try to get your friend to answer some questions if they ask.”

Evelynne nodded. “Can I see Ally?” she asked.

“Soon,” Dr Turner promised. “I want Allison to avoid stimuli for a while longer so that we can be sure the sedative has taken effect. About another half hour, and that’ll give you time to talk to the police, as well.” She turned on her professionally reassuring smile once more. “She’ll be fine. Just be patient.”

Claire tried to grin at Evelynne as she passed over a cup of coffee, brought from the shop down the street, rather than the highly questionable hospital cafeteria, then sat down herself, cradling her own cup in her hands. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the still, silent figure on the bed. A few tubes and wires were attached around Ally’s body, and a monitor beeped quietly to itself. Normally, drug cases, especially ones as “mild” as rohypnol was supposed to be, didn’t require a heart monitor, but given Ally’s extreme reaction, the doctors didn’t want to risk any other complications from the other medication they were putting into her system.

“How’s she doing?” Claire asked, breaking the near silence.

“She moved a bit a while ago. That’s good, right?” Evelynne asked hopefully.

“That’s good,” Claire agreed.

Evelynne sighed. “I remember the first time I saw her in the hospital in Marseilles. I’d seen her before, of course, when she had saved me. But that was the first time I really got to look at her. And she was sosmall, and so still. But there was still thisthis energy to her. Like she was just somewhere else, and ready to jump back in at any moment. Sometimes I think I fell in love with her right then. Right now, though

” She trailed off, her gaze settling on her lover briefly before skittering away, and she absently rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. “Now something’s wrong.”

“I know,” Claire said. She saw Evelynne looking at her and hurried to explain. “I mean, you two have this connection. You always know how the other one is feeling. And I can see that you’re

” She paused, at a loss for words.

Evelynne seemed to understand anyway. “You’re right,” she said finally. “It’s a gift we have, I suppose.” She was silent for a few minutes, thinking. Finally she asked, “When we were at the bar, how did you know where Ally was? You knew she was in the bathroom, but you were outside the whole night.”

“II don’t know,” Claire stuttered. Evelynne’s expression just invited her to continue. “Well, IYou know how I get those, like, vision and sound attacks. Well, it was sort of like that. I was just trying to think of where Ally was, and then it was like I was actually in the stall, and I saw Ally and she was

um

So anyway, I guess my imagination figured it out and hit me with it like that.”

“Hmm. Have you ever done that before? Seen actual things that you recognise?”

“Sometimes,” Claire admitted. “Usually I get a whole bunch of pictures, and I can’t sort them out. Sometimes, though, it’s just the one image. I saw Corey at work once, although I was in class on the other side of town. And this picture down at the art museum.” She stopped, embarrassed, but saw Evelynne waiting for her to continue. “Once I saw you and Ally in your bedroom.” She frowned. “I remember that I saw the scars on Ally’s back, but I didn’t actually see them until the other day. Hm, weird. I suppose my imagination just took what Ally had told me and made it up. Although she called you ‘Evelynne’ in that one, too, which is really strange, since I didn’t know until

you know. Maybe I just heard her through the wall.”

“Maybe,” Evelynne agreed softly. “Or maybe you really are actually seeing things. Real events. Maybe you actually saw Corey at work, and that picture in the gallery.”

“What, like ESP or something?” Claire scoffed.

“Remote viewing,” Evelynne said calmly. “Or ‘extra-optical perception’, as Ally calls it when she’s trying to be pompous.”

“Whatever. I mean, it’s not like I completely disbelieve that sort of thing, but come on.”

“It’s real,” Evelynne said. “It’s very real. I know people with talents like that.”

“You’re kidding. Who?”

Evelynne shook her head. “I promised that I wouldn’t tell anyone without their permission. I don’t even know if what you’re experiencing is real.” She leaned over to hold Claire’s hand. “Just think about it, all right?”

Chapter 14

The lights had been dimmed in Ally’s room in response to the darkness outside, and Claire sat in a surprisingly comfortable hospital chair and watched her friend sleep. Ally was wearing soft but strong restraints at her waist and wrists. She had been confused, agitated and delusional before the sedative had finally kicked in, and the doctors weren’t sure how long it would take for the drug she had ingested to wear off.

Claire’s gaze lingered momentarily on the restraints, before drifting up to Ally’s face. There was something missing, and it took her a moment to realise that the dragon pendant Ally had been wearing was gone. A quick glance at her hand showed that her engagement ring was missing as well, and Claire realised they must have been removed by the hospital staff for safety.

She felt a mild jolt of renewed shock as she realised once again exactly who the woman in the bed was. Earlier she had been too busy, comforting and helping Evelynne, making phone calls, to truly process the information. Now that she knew, Allison Parks was unmistakably Alleandre Tretiak. Her Ladyship Dame Alleandre Tretiak, in fact, and she wondered how she had never seen it before. Because it was unthinkable, she answered herself. It wasisunthinkable that the Heir to the Atlantean Throne and her fianc?e would ever hide in America. It’s unthinkable that she would be working in a bar in small-town Pennsylvania. And because it’s unthinkable, nobody thought it. Everyone knows that they’re in seclusion in Atlantis, or Europe. And even if “Allison” and “Sophia” look similar to a certain famous couple, so what? Jean looks a lot like Christina Aguilera, but she obviously isn’t. I think. Claire managed to feel a bit of humour at the thought. But it turns out that they are Her Highness Evelynne deMolay and Her Ladyship Alleandre Tretiak. And they’re friends with me! She had briefly wondered if their friendship had been part of the act all along, but had dismissed the thought. Not only was it too painful to contemplate, but the interactions she had had with them were too genuine to be feigned.

Looking over to the bed, and satisfied that Ally’s condition was unchanged, Claire thought back to the other shock that had been handed her earlier. Evelynne thinks my attacks might actually be remote viewing? Like ESP stuff? A part of her wanted to dismiss the thought automatically, but she couldn’t seem to stop. She said she knows people who can do stuff like that. Well, she is in the Atlantean government, so maybe they have some kind of secret program, like the CIA is supposed to. Would I want to work for something like that? She frowned. No, I don’t think so. But I don’t see her forcing me to do it. Although maybe she just knows people. Has friends who can, oh, see the future or something. Although if they could, why didn’t they do something about the Invasion? She looked at Ally again. Maybe it’s Ally. She tried to think of her friend doing something unexplained, and came up a blank. Well, she did go into that fire. She scoffed internally. Sure, she actually flew in with her superpowers and saved the day! Yeah, right.

Exhausted, but unable and unwilling to sleep while she was watching Ally for Evelynne, Claire leaned back, considering the last few hours. When she had realised just who her friends were, and what had happened, she had expected the princess to make a call and have herself and her fianc?e evacuated immediately. However, while Evelynne had made a call, she had returned even more shaken and pale, and simply said that rescue was currently inadvisable. It was still an option, but much more complicated with the assassination attempt.

The police had also begun an investigation, as expected, interviewing the doctor, Evelynne, Joline, and Claire herself. When the investigating officers had realised that it was “only” a lesbian affair, and had taken place at Horton City’s only well-known gay-friendly establishment, Claire had not been particularly surprised to see their interest waning. However, she had then been privileged to see first-hand the full force of the Atlantean Royal personality, and was only too glad it had not been directed at her. Somehow, without ever revealing her real identity, Evelynne had taken the two officers, chewed them up, spit them out, bent them back into shape, and sent them back on their investigation with much more enthusiasm than they had probably ever had for any task before. And left them happy to do it. Evelynne had experience dealing with some of the most powerful and strong-minded leaders ever to be in politics, and the employees of some pitiful small-town police force had no defence. It had been awe-inspiring.

Many of Evelynne’s co-workers and friends from the bar had come by, although most of them were somewhat the worse for drink. Corey had been determined to stand guard, fighting off his obvious inebriation to do so, until Evelynne had convinced him to go home, get some rest, and then bring a change of clothes when he returned. Narmin had been busy dealing with the police investigation, closing the bar early to do so.

Now Claire would have been able to see the sun beginning to rise, if there had been any windows in the room. She looked away from the clock, feeling fatigue tugging at her mind, and saw Ally’ face twitch. Instantly awake, she jumped up and leaned over the bed. “Ally?” she asked softly, as dazed grey eyes flickered open. “Ally, can you hear me?”

She slowly regained consciousness, feeling the confused and sluggish nature of her thoughts, and had a moment of panic when she couldn’t remember who she was. Ally. Alleandre Tiffany Tretiak. That passed, but then felt renewed panic over the simple fact that she had forgotten. Ally knew that she never forgot who she was or, on a very basic level, where she was, even when waking from the deepest sleep. For a moment, though, she had been adrift in complete ignorance of anything, and that was frightening.

Now, though, her eyes blinked open and she peered blearily at her surroundings.

“Ally? Ally, can you hear me?”

The voice drew her attention, and she looked in that direction, where the speaker was close enough for her to be able to make out distinctive features. “Claire?” she whispered, confused.

“Yeah, it’s me,” the other woman confirmed. “Don’t worry, Evelynne will be here soon.”

Ally tried to frown, knowing that there was something wrong with Claire using that name. “What

what happened?”

“Do you remember anything?” Ally shook her head. “They said you might not.”

Ally frowned again. Not remember? She had perfect recall, eidetic memory, that she remembered clearly enough. Fumbling in her own mind, she bent her will towards that particular ability, trying to call up any events that might have led her to

wherever she now was.

And screamed as she was plunged into the memories with shocking suddenness.

She was in the Sixth Age, talking with Josh, Sammy, Corey, and a few others. “Is it my turn for drinks?” she heard herself say, and her eyes moved down at her empty glass. There was a vaguely unpleasant aftertaste in her mouth. “I’m not getting whatever this was again,” her voice continued. “It was weird. Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Ally watched from behind her own eyes as her body got up and walked towards the bar, and realised that she was remembering her own thoughts as well. Her memory-self caught sight of Evelynne at the other end of the restaurant, and she had a flash of just how sexy her lover was. A woman walking in the opposite direction distracted her. Or her, she thought. There was a pulse-quickening beat playing over the speakers, and Ally felt an urge to go over to the dance floor and join the crowd there.

Enjoying the slow flush of arousal that was beginning to permeate her body, Ally reached the bar and waited to catch the attention of the bartender. A blonde woman was there as well, and Ally smiled in her direction. “Hi,” her memory-self said. “At the risk of sounding like a corny pick-up line, have I seen you I here before?” Her eyes looked the other woman up and down appreciatively.

The other woman blushed lightly, but smiled back. “You might have. It’s been a while, though.” She held out a hand. “I’m Joline.”

“Ally,” her memory-self replied, letting her touch linger, even while the mind trapped in the memory began to panic. “You here with someone?”

Joline shook her head. “No. I just came to have some fun. Get out of the apartment.”

“I understand that.” Ally’s body looked over towards the dance floor. “Would you like to go and have some fun now?” she asked, her mission to get drinks forgotten in favour of the tug on her desires.

“I’d love to,” Joline replied.

Taking the blonde woman’s hand, Ally led her to the dance floor, where one song was just ending and another, with a sensual, gut-squeezing beat, was beginning. They started out simply enough, but as time passed Ally moved closer and closer to her dance partner, brushing up against her with increasing frequency. Joline was a little slower, but eventually began to respond more ardently to the animal attraction between them.

The Ally in the memory lost track of how long they danced, but the one watching from behind her eyes experienced every single second, every touch and emotion, and was rapidly losing the objectivity that was the norm during total recall. She was quickly becoming lost in the memory, the knowledge that it was a memory fading behind rising panic and horror.

Finally, they slowed, and memory-Ally looked down at her partner, seeing the sheen of sweat on Joline’s face and feeling a matching glow on her own. The other woman was panting and flushed, and both Alleandres recognised clear arousal, one with desperation, and the other with matching desire. The memory-Ally gave a sultry smile and took Joline’s hand, leading her off the dance floor, while her alter-ego, now completely lost in the memory, struggled vainly to gain control of the body, to end the events she knew were coming.

She continued to batter at the impenetrable wall as her body pulled the unresisting blonde into the bathroom and into an unoccupied stall, shrieking and flailing helplessly as she saw her head move forward, felt and tasted the salty sweetness of the first kiss. Trapped in a body that utterly ignored her every attempt to regain control, she continued to try, her frantic pleas and desperate mental screams completely unheeded. Her body moved backward, drawing Joline with her, seeking the pleasure of skin, even as the mind behind her eyes recoiled in terror.

More touches followed, as Ally’s pants were fumbled open and a hand slipped inside, and part of her groaned in pleasure, as another part moaned in pain. The physical pleasure and mental pain continued to mount, until in the memory the door to the stall was pushed open, and a familiar form stood there, features a mask of shock and betrayal. Memory-Ally smiled in welcome, and moved towards her fianc?e, while Evelynne stepped back with a strangled whisper, and the mind trapped in the memory withered in shame.

“Ally?”

Ally?

It was too much, and Ally’s mind seemed to explode in a blast of knife-edged memory as she felt a familiar mental touch in her thoughts. It was feather-soft, but at that moment it was like a chainsaw in her brain. “Get out! GET OUT!” she shrieked. She was trying to shield her head with her hands, but they were restrained somehow, leaving her to writhe in agony. “GET OUT OF MY HEAD! Get out! Get out

” Her voice faded slowly as she was pulled back into blessed oblivion, and went into the blackness gladly.

Evelynne was walking back from another unsuccessful phone call to her “aunt.” The situation was even worse than it had been. The code phrases that had been used in the latest message had told her that at least two other decoys had been attacked. Whether it was an attempt to draw her and Ally out, or if the attackers were truly hoping that one of the decoys was the real thing, the situation was far too dangerous for her and Ally to reveal themselves for anything other than a critical emergency.

She was metres from Ally’s room when she heard the shriek. And went from a walk to a run in an instant.

Bursting into the room, she saw Claire standing by the bed, trying unsuccessfully to comfort the distressed woman, but unable to maintain a grip on the flailing form. Claire looked up, pathetically grateful, as Evelynne reached the bedside.

“What happened?” Evelynne asked, attempting to place a hand on Ally’s forehead, but the woman on the bed jerked away as if burned.

“I don’t know,” Claire said helplessly. “She woke up for a moment, and I asked her if she remembered anything. Then

“

“Ally?” Evelynne called. “Ally? It’s all right, love, I’m here. I’m here.” There was no response, and Evelynne felt tears on her cheeks as, in desperation, she reached out and carefully touched her mind to Ally’s.

And was repulsed with such force that she was nearly knocked across the room. For a brief moment she caught a taste of terror-rage-lust-shame-love-pleasure-hatred before her own mind recoiled with the suddenness of a snapping elastic band. She found herself kneeling on the floor, dry-heaving, hearing her lover’s cries to get out of her head.

Claire’s bewilderment was obvious as she tried to decide which of her friends to help. The decision was taken from her a moment later as a doctor and several nurses rushed into the room, encircling the bed, and Claire’s arms went around Evelynne as the other woman tried to burrow into her body. Ally’s cries slowly diminished as the drug that had been injected into her arm took effect, leaving near-silence, broken only by Evelynne sobbing into Claire’s chest.

Hours later, Evelynne was sitting crouched over her lover’s bed once more. Ally was still restrained, although she had barely twitched since the last sedative had been administered.

Suddenly, Ally’s face moved slightly, and Evelynne hurriedly wiped the remains of tears from her face as she leaned further over the bed. “Ally?” she whispered, not wanting to wake the other woman if she was just shifting in her sleep. It had happened a few times before. This time, however, Ally’s eyes blinked open, showing much more comprehension than there had been previously. “Hi,” Evelynne said, smiling tremulously.

Ally reacted reflexively to the smile, beginning to grin until suddenly her eyes widened and her face froze. With a soft moan, she shut her eyes again and turned her head. Her hands moved in an abortive attempt to hide her face, but were brought up short by the cuffs around her wrists.

“Ally, please don’t,” Evelynne begged, reaching out to touch her lover’s face, hurt when Ally jerked away slightly. Every instinct she had was screaming to stretch out and touch Ally’s mind, but she kept her own talents under strict control, remembering the results of the last time she had done so. “Ally, please, I’m here, love.”

Ally’s lips were moving, and Evelynne had to lean closer to hear her barely whispered words. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no. I’m not leaving,” Evelynne murmured, gently turning Ally’s face towards her own, feeling tears on her own cheeks that matched those on Ally’s. “It’s all right. It’s not your fault.”

Ally’s looked up at her with pain-filled eyes. “But I”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Evelynne said again. “Someone put something in your drink. You were drugged, love. You couldn’t help what happened.”

“But I-I wanted to. And I did. I remember. I remember.”

“But the drug

” Oh, Isis. The drug was supposed to suppress memory, but Ally’s memory doesn’t work like other people’s. She went from chemically-induced amnesia to total recall, probably in the space of a split second. “Oh, love. I’m sorry.” Evelynne brought her face next to Ally’s, embracing her as best she could. She could hear her lover’s shallow, erratic breathing by her ear. “It still wasn’t your fault.”

Chapter 15

Walking slowly down the street, Claire kept an alert but discreet eye on her friend walking beside her. Evelynne was supporting Ally on the other side, carefully holding her arm, so the chances of her falling were slight, but Claire was taking no risks. Even though Ally had been out of the hospital for four days, her balance and perception still seemed to be off. Most of that was probably due to exhaustion, Claire thought, rather than any lingering effects of the drugs. Ally had hardly been sleeping since returning to their apartment, and the dark rings under her eyes were the reason for the dark glasses she was wearing, despite the fact that twilight was already upon them.

The past few days had been difficult on all of them. When Ally had returned she had been restless and skittish, but also withdrawn and unemotional. While she and her lover had continued to share a bed, Claire knew that Ally had taken to leaving it in the middle of the night, relocating to the couch in the living room and watching TV for hours with the sound turned low. Claire knew that Evelynne was being as undemanding and understanding as possible, but on more than one occasion Claire had found herself holding the other woman while she wept.

Ally had grown increasing restless, and today, when Evelynne had said that she had to return to the Sixth Age to discuss some things with Narmin, she had tentatively requested to come along. Evelynne had jumped at the chance, since it was the first real initiative Ally had shown since her return, although it was obvious she was worried about bringing Ally back to the source of her pain. Concerned, she had asked Claire to accompany them. Corey had been more than willing to do the same, but Ally had become visibly nervous at the thought of even more people, though she would likely not have explicitly objected.

Now, as they approached the front door of the restaurant, Ally’s anxiety was becoming more evident in her rapid breathing and quick, jerky movements. Evelynne cast a quick glance at Claire, asking a question with her eyes, and Claire nodded.

“Ally, love, how about you stay out here with Claire while I go in? I won’t be too long, and you can enjoy the fresh air.” She indicated one of the small tables set along the sidewalk.

Ally visibly relaxed at the suggestion. “Okay,” she agreed, the relief in her voice apparent. She looked down sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Evelynne raised her head with a finger. “Don’t be sorry, love. It’s all right.” She briefly brushed their lips together while Claire looked the other way, but not before she saw that Ally had to force herself to return the caress. While the couple had never been excessively demonstrative before, now Ally initiated no contact at all, and Evelynne, taking her cue from her partner’s actions, was also hesitant to physically display her affection.

With a final lingering look, Evelynne disappeared into the establishment, leaving Claire and Ally to take seats on opposite sides of the table.

“So

” Claire said finally, when the silence had stretched uncomfortably long.

“So

” Ally repeated, actually managing to quirk a smile. She looked around before continuing. “EvEvelynne told me how you saw me

that night.”

“Yeah.” Claire looked down at her hands. “She thinks it might be some sort of ESP thing.” She laughed unconvincingly. “I’m not sure I believe her, but she says she knows people who can do stuff like that.”

Ally nodded. “She’s right,” she said quietly. “I can.”

Claire gaped at her. “You? But

“

Ally shrugged. “I can see things that other people can’t. Know things that other people don’t. Feel other peoples’ thoughts sometimes.”

“What?! You’re like some kind of telepath?”

“Not quite,” Ally continued in a calm, matter-of-fact voice. “Telepathy is an active, dynamic talent. Putting thoughts into someone’s mind is telepathic. I’m just a mind-reader.”

Now Claire was quite sure that Ally’s experiences had unhinged her in some way that had been missed before. ESP or precognition was one thing, but this was pure insanity. Her doubts must have showed on her face, because Ally peered at her closely and said, “Do you mind if I try?” Claire shook her head uncertainly. “Think of a number. Any number.”

Despite her doubts, the order automatically brought a number to mind.

“Seventeen. Eight. Sixty-four. Twenty-two. One. Eighty-nine.” Ally quickly read off each number that appeared in Claire’s mind.

“Oh my God,” Claire breathed. “Okay, what am I thinking now?”

“‘The square of the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides.’ The Pythagorean Theorem.”

“Jesus.” Claire sat back in her seat, stunned. “You really can. What about Evelynne? Can she do that too?”

Ally smiled sadly. “Now she’s the telepath. She used to talk to me, in my mind, show me she loved me.” She trailed off wistfully.

Claire noted the past tense and reached across to take Ally’s hand. “She still does, you know.” Her heart ached at the loneliness and uncertainty in her friend’s voice.

Ally looked down at their clasped hands. “I know,” she whispered.

There was silence for several minutes. “So, you think I might be like you? My attacks are really seeing things?”

A shake brought Ally back to the present. “Maybe,” she admitted. She looked at the mirrored window to the restaurant. “Tell me what’s in there,” she instructed. “Try to feel what you feel when you’re having an attack, but concentrate on what’s inside. Try to guide the images to what you want to see.”

Despite her nervousness, bordering on outright fear, Claire complied. The thought of deliberately courting an attack was terrifying, but tempered by her trust in the woman across from her. If she says I can, then maybe I can. Closing her eyes, she tried to recall what a vision attack felt likethat was the easy part; they hard to forgetwhile simultaneously concentrating on the unseen interior of the restaurant. As she focussed, she felt a vague presence somewhere on the periphery of her mind, like feeling someone watching in an otherwise empty room, and wondered if Ally was somehow feeling what she was.

Then, with the suddenness that marked all her attacks, the visions hit her. It seemed that there were only three this time, and Claire was surprised by their clarity. It was because she was actively concentrating on them, she supposed, not trying to ignore them, and because they were not completely unexpected, as they usually were. One of the visions seemed to be an empty alleyway somewhereor nowhere, if it really was just a figment of her imaginationand the second was inside someone’s car, if she was seeing it right. Surprisingly, though, the third appeared to be the inside of the restaurant, from a perspective of somewhere near the window, as though she had somehow stepped completely through the glass and was standing inside. There were a fair number of people present, both diners and drinkers, and Claire recognised Jean as the waitress walked into “view.”

“Good, you’re doing it.” From far away, Claire heard Ally’s voice, shocked that she could not only hear the words, but comprehend them as well. Usually an attack so confused her mind that nothing from the outside world could penetrate.

Also surprising was the fact that the other two images were not gone, but somehow pushed into the background, still present and distracting, but no longer completely destroying her concentration. “Seeing” Evelynne near the bar, talking to Narmin, Claire took the initiative and attempted to “walk” her vision in that direction, exhilarated beyond measure when the point of view shifted. Even if this was still just an imaginary scenario created by some mental defect, the ability to at least partially control the attacks was priceless.

Still “walking” towards Evelynne, Claire was taken by surprise when the vision lurched, swooping unexpectedly to focus on a young man, laughing and drinking a brightly-coloured cocktail from a tall glass. There was something wrong with the drink, Claire suddenly knew, but she didn’t have time to focus on the wrongness before her vision jerked again, this time to an attractive young woman sitting with some others at a table near the back of the bar. With disconcerting swiftness, Claire’s sight took her closer, closer, until she was inside the woman’s jacket pocket, where there was a small plastic bag filled with

The vision snapped suddenly, catapulting her back into her body, and for several moments she could only blink and breathe deeply in an attempt to dispel the dizziness that wracked her. Finally catching her breath and equilibrium, Claire looked up over the table to see Ally, and almost recoiled physically.

Ally’s face was completely blank, but there was something in her eyes, a growing comprehension, accompanied by a rage so great that it almost pushed Claire out of her chair.

“Al-Ally? What

?” Her hesitant question was ignored as, almost in a dream, Ally stood slowly and deliberately walked towards the door.

“So the police have really been helpful?” Evelynne asked her employer, standing by the bar.

“They have,” Narmin replied in a low voice. “It’s usually like pulling teeth to get real police help once they realise just who we are. So far I can’t say they’ve been bending over backwards, but they’re still taking this very seriously.” She looked at Evelynne with a bemused smile. “I don’t know what you said to them, but one of the officers seems to worship the ground you walk on.”

Evelynne chuckled briefly. “So have they found anything?”

“No.” Narmin shook her head. “They’ve done what they can, but there’s not much they can do short of physically searching everyone coming in here, and that would definitely scare away the customers we still have.” Her gesture took in the crowd around the restaurant and bar, which, while still respectable, was much smaller than it had been for a while. “They’ve got a plainclothes officer in here right now She nodded discreetly towards a lone customer apparently reading a book. “but they can’t keep one here forever. I’ve been talking to other bar owners around town, and they’ve seen a big drop in clientele too. It’ll pick up again eventually, of course, but until then we can only wait it out.” She shrugged helplessly.

“Have any other places been”

Evelynne was cut off abruptly as the front door opened with some force, the bells set above it jangling in discord. Evelynne blinked as Ally appeared in the doorway, and watched as her partner’s eyes tracked over the rest of the crowd that had looked up at her entrance. She felt an involuntary chill as Ally’s expression registered. It was vaguely familiar, but it took a moment to remember where she had seen it last.

Then she remembered. Four months previously, she had seen almost the same expression on her lover as a full Adept stalked down a hallway to neutralise a squad of invading soldiers. There was a difference, though. That Ally had been like a panther protecting its cubs: focussed, determined, deadly, but also almost calm. This panther had been wounded, and was now stalking prey, the focussed hostility and danger flowing off her in waves.

Evelynne froze as that pitiless gaze swept over her without recognition, until it came to rest on a young man who had frozen in his seat, tall glass still held to his lips. Without breaking her stare, Ally flowed across the floor to his suddenly silent table, even as Claire appeared, distraught, at the now empty doorway.

Ally reached out and plucked the glass from the young man’s hand, her glare stopping his protest before it could get past his lips. She touched the liquid inside with a single finger, and then brought the digit to her mouth, closing her eyes as she did so. She was still for a moment, and then her eyes snapped open. Replacing the glass on the table with carefully controlled precision, she dismissed the group at the table, her gaze now seeking out another group. Her eyes focussed on an attractive dark-haired young woman, a regular whom Evelynne recognised, and she stalked across the floor again, her stance becoming even more predatory as Evelynne watched.

Evelynne barely noticed Claire arriving at her side. “I don’t know what happened,” the other woman babbled. “I wasShe wasI was looking in here, and she was listening in my head, and then I sawAnd she

” Claire trailed off as Ally reached her destination.

Ally’s focus of attention looked up at the woman looming over her with confusion and trepidation. “Are you”

She was cut off as Ally reached down and, with a single smooth motion, grabbed the woman by the front of her button-down shirt and hauled her upright. The undercover officer in the room leapt to his feet, but Ally’s eyes barely flickered in his direction and he froze in mid-step. Her attention now back on her victim, Ally stared into the other woman’s eyes, who shrank away from the onslaught. Seemingly of its own volition, Ally’s free hand made its way to the woman’s pocket, and Evelynne’s heart leapt into her throat as a small bag of pills was brought out.

“It’s you.” Despite the low tone, Ally’s words could be heard throughout the bar. “You did it.” Her eyes continued to seek inside her victim’s. “And it wasn’t because you didn’t know what you were doing. It wasn’t because you were angry, or stupid, or working for some twisted cause. You’re not even a sociopath.” Ally’s lips twisted in a terrible grin. “Believe me, I know how to recognise a sociopath. No, you did it because you were testing your product. Because once you had it right you could make thousands selling it to other pathetic, twisted people. You did it for money, for pure selfish gain and YOU HURT PEOPLE!” With that sudden roar Ally’s muscles bunched and she threw the other woman backwards.

Had it been anyone else, the woman would have travelled a few feet, probably falling at the edge of the dance floor. In reality, however, she flew through the air over twenty feet, clear across the dance floor, and hit the far wall, where she hung, suspended and spread-eagled, a foot off the ground. A moment later Ally was there. “You hurt me.” A hand drew back, and Evelynne could practically see the power being channelled into it.

Visions of that power buckling a steel beam, and what it would do to a mere flesh-and-blood construct, sped across her mind, and a second later she was by Ally’s side, not quite remembering moving across the intervening distance. She caught the hand about to strike, and was mildly surprised when she held it. Ally’s head turned slowly, almost unwillingly, and recognition dawned equally slowly. “Evy,” she whispered, her voice broken.

“Ally, please don’t,” Evelynne begged, feeling the quivering in the fist she was holding. “Don’t do this. It’s not you.”

“Evy

” Ally’s eyes were so wild Evelynne was vaguely surprised they weren’t sparking. “She did it. She gave it to me. She made me do it. She hurt me.”

“I know. But you don’t want to do this. There’s a better way.” The fist slowly relented to Evelynne’s pressure, and she turned her attention to the woman still before her. “Did you do this? Did you drug people in this restaurant?” TELL THE TRUTH. The command drove directly into the woman’s brain.

The woman gasped, a strangled, “Yes,” escaping her lips.

Evelynne nodded. “Ally’s right,” she said with icy calm. “You hurt people. You hurt the one person I love more than anything else in the world. You brought her pain, and you don’t even care. You don’t evenknow the pain you’ve caused. Yet.”

Taking the other woman’s head in her hands, Evelynne looked directly into her eyes. With a single brutal thrust of her mind, she took the terror, the pain, the confusion, the rage, the sorrow, the self-loathing that she had touched in Ally’s mind in the hospital, and drove it directly into the psyche in front of her. The woman’s head snapped back and she screamed, slipping to the floor as Ally’s mental grasp released, collapsing into a sobbing huddle on the floor.

Evelynne looked down at her without a hint of pity. “Now you know.”

Claire stood leaning against the bar, her breath having to squeeze into her lungs through a suddenly tight chest. She felt as though she had run a mile, adrenaline fueling her confusion and shock.

What she had just seen was impossible. Despite the demonstration that Ally had put on outside, there had still been limits to Claire’s belief. The Amazing Kreskin is one thing. Superman is something else.Yet there wasn’t really another explanation that fit what she had observed. She wasn’t quite sure what everyone else had seen, since Ally’s body had partially blocked the view of the other woman being held against the wall. The way Ally had thrown the woman across the room could have been explained by anger-fuelled adrenaline, Claire supposed, but she had seen how the woman had hung from the wall without any visible support. Somehow she simply knew that Ally had been behind that, as well.

Claire had been frozen as Ally had ripped the knowledge she wanted from the other woman’s mind, but had started forward instinctively when Ally had drawn back to strike. Having seen the effortless way her friend had tossed the woman across the dance floor, her heart had leapt to her throat at the thought of that power unleashed in a punch. The way that Evelynne had stopped her lover’s attack with a butterfly-light touch was as gratifying as it was disturbing. Evelynne had taken over then, and while Claire wasn’t positive about what had happened next, she could guess.

“She used to talk to me, in my mind, show me she loved me

” Ally’s words came back, and Claire shivered. If Evelynne could project love and joy, there was evidently nothing stopping her from projecting darker emotions as well. The pathetic woman now lying in a sobbing mass on the floor was testament to that.

Now Evelynne was holding her partner’s face to her shoulder. After a brief moment, where the entire establishment seemed to hold its breath, Ally lifted her head and looked around. There was an instinctive drawing back by the watchers as her gaze took them in, and then she turned back to her lover and murmured something. Evelynne nodded, her face sad, but she remained at Ally’s side as they walked swiftly towards the front door and out into the night.

The paralysis that had gripped the bar broke suddenly, shifting to confused, frightened babbling. A few of people made their way to the woman still lying on the floor, who flinched away as they tried to help her. Narmin was equally stunned, and turned to Claire, but the younger woman made a sudden decision and hurried out the door after her friends.

They hadn’t gotten far. The couple were walking briskly a short distance down the street in the direction of their apartment. “Ally! EvSophia! Wait!” Claire called. Thankfully, they complied. As she got closer, Claire could see that Evelynne’s face was set in a determined, emotionless mask, her hand wrapped securely around her partner’s arm. Ally, meanwhile, was holding herself stiffly, yet was still shivering visibly, every muscle in her body taut as a bowstring. They said nothing as Claire approached. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Claire blurted as soon as she reached them.

Evelynne looked up at her partner, but Ally seemed oblivious. “Yes,” she said shortly. “We have to. I don’t know where”

“I do,” Ally interrupted.

Evelynne looked at her again, then nodded. “But yes, we are leaving.” She managed to smile sadly. “I’m sorry.”

Claire shook her head. “Don’t be. I’m coming with you.”

“What? Claire, you can’t.”

“I can. Unless you tell me not to.”

“But this is your home,” Ally protested. “Why would you leave?”

Claire continued to shake her head. “My home? I’ve never had a home. And what is there for me here? A dead-end job? School, to prepare for a career that’s probably wishful thinking? I can get those anywhere.”

“What about your friends?” Evelynne asked.

Claire barked a humourless laugh. “Friend, you mean. Singular. Corey is the only real friend I’ve ever had. Until you. And he’s always hoped that I’d get the opportunity to leave this place. No, like I said, there’s nothing for me here. I want to help you in any way I can. Please let me. And if” She took a deep breath. “If you’re right about this talent I have, then I need your help. I can’t deal with it on my own.”

Ally looked about to object again, but this pulled her up short. She hesitated, and then nodded reluctantly. “If we’re going to” She looked down at Evelynne, who looked back with a worried expression.

“Are you sure?” Evelynne asked her lover.

Ally echoed Claire’s stark laughter. “I’m sure of nothing. I have no idea what I’m doing. I just know that I need

help, and I can think of only one person who might be able to. She’s done it before.”

Evelynne’s face softened, and she reached up to gently touch Ally’s face, and Claire could just see the carefully controlled flinch in her friend’s eyes. “Anything you need, love. Anything.”

Ally nodded shakily, then turned back to Claire. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”

Chapter 16

“Franklin, what’s up with the woman you’ve got stashed in Interview?” Horton City’s police chief asked. “She won’t stop crying.”

Officer Franklin looked up at his boss and rubbed his eyes. “You remember that rohypnol case a few days ago? The woman who had a bad reaction and ended up in hospital?”

The Chief nodded, and then jerked his head in the direction of the interview room. “She another one?”

“Not exactly. She’s the pusher. Eileen Swanson.”

The Chief’s double-take was almost comical. “What? Her? She another dyke, too?” he asked dismissively.

Franklin shrugged and frowned. He had been one of those who had interviewed the Parks woman in the hospital, and while he still wasn’t sure he agreed with her choice of lifestyle, he also knew that nobodydeserved the trauma she had gone through. “Don’t know. But she did have the drugs on her, and she’d just snuck a hit into another guy’s drink. He’s at the hospital getting checked out.”

“Huh. So you caught her at it?”

“Nope. The first victim, Parks, she saw her doing it. Went right up to her and dragged the stuff out of her pocket. Nearly beat the crap out of her, too, but Parks’ girlfriend stopped her.” Franklin shook his head to clear it of the memory of the event. When he had started towards the confrontation, he had been suddenly frozen as though encased in cement, completely unable to move. The immobility had ended only when Parks and Doherty had passed through the doorway and out of sight. “I’m not sure what Parks said to her, but Swanson’s been crying ever since. She just keeps apologising over and over. She didn’t even ask for a lawyer, and she’s already given us the location of her lab and the contacts she was developing the dope for. Seems she was just using the bar as a testing ground.”

“Huh,” the Chief said again. “So what about Parks and her friend? You talked to them yet?”

“Not yet. They were pretty upset. I figure I’ll swing around in the morning. Give them some time to calm down.” Even as he said it, somehow Franklin knew that when he went to their apartment later, the two women wouldn’t be there.

“So you’re really going,” Corey said softly, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“I really am,” Claire replied, not meeting his eye. “Can you pass me that sweater?” She continued packing her small suitcase.

Corey was silent for a few more minutes, watching his friend push clothes into the case. “You know who they are, right?” he asked even more quietly.

Claire looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “I mean that Sophia’s really Princess Evelynne, and Ally’s Lady Alleandre.”

Claire looked at him in shock. “How did you know?”

Corey shrugged. “I notice things. Of course, I knew who they looked like, but I just thought it was coincidence, you know? Then you told me about how Ally had been shot, and I really started looking. Once you accept the possibility, they’re unmistakeable. You might want to tell SophiaEvelynne, that isto dye her hair or something. Ally, too.”

“I can’t believe you knew all this time and didn’t tell me,” Claire muttered, shaking her head.

“Well, I wasn’t a hundred per cent sure. And even if it was them, they didn’t want anyone to know, for obvious reasons.” He paused. “So where are you going?”

“I don’t know. Ally said something about going to someone who can help her.”

“Why are you going with them?” Corey looked at her wryly. “I mean, besides the fact that you’re in love with them.”

Claire blushed and sighed. Giving up on the packing for a moment, she sat down beside her friend. “They can help me. Ally thinks she might be able to teach me to control this gift I have. And I just have to go, you know? I can’t explain it.” She was quiet for a moment. “You could come with us, you know. They’re your friends too.”

Corey shook his head. “I can’t. Believe me, I’m tempted. But I’m creating ties here. I’m already stock manager at the store. I’m doing well in my classes. I actually have friends. Thanks to Ally and Sophia, ironically. I’m comfortable here.” He wrapped an arm around Claire. “I understand why you’re going. I’m still worried, but I know why you’re doing it.”

Her eyes bright with tears, Claire turned in his embrace. “I kind of love you, you know.”

“I know.” He held her for a minute, and then pulled back slightly. “I hate to be selfish right now, but what’s going to happen to me? Where will I live?”

“Oh!” Claire jumped up to grab an envelope from the dresser. “Ally said to give this to you.”

Corey took the envelope and opened it, drawing out a large sheaf of papers. His eyes widened as he scanned the first page. “Oh my God.” His head came up. “She has a pre-paid one year lease on this apartment. And she’s just sublet it to me for a year. For a dollar.” He swallowed. “I mean, I knew she was rich, but to hell with Evelynne, I’m going to marry her.”

Claire was surprised by the details, but not by the generosity behind it. She grinned. “I think you might have a fight on your hands if you try.” She sobered at a recent memory. “You really don’t want to piss Evelynne off.”

“True.” Corey remained looking at the documents in his hands for a moment, and then put them aside. “I will see you again, you know. One day they’re going to go back to Atlantis, and they’ll take you with them, and you’ll become some high-and-mighty noblewoman. And when you are, you’re going to invite me to visit, and introduce me to all the young bulls at court.”

Claire embraced her friend tightly. “You have a deal.”

“How did it go?” Ally asked her partner, her voice easily lost in the noise of the bus station.

“All right, I suppose,” Evelynne replied, her voice subdued. “Narmin was understanding when I told her we needed to go ‘home’. I don’t think she really saw what happened last night. Or if she did, she doesn’t want to believe it. She was quite verbosely upset about losing my ‘managerial skills’, but I gave her the name of an accountant I checked out who seems like an honest businessman. The only other person there this morning was Jean.”

Ally sat down, and Evelynne followed, disturbed when Ally held herself stiffly, arms wrapped around her middle in a physical gesture of withdrawal. She had disappeared for most of the night, only appearing after dawn with the travel arrangements she had made. While Evelynne had gone to the Sixth Age, Ally had headed directly to the bus station. That was only one symptom of the distance she was obviously creating between herself and her partner.

“What about Jean?” Ally asked, and Evelynne shook herself out of her musings.

“Jean knows something happened, but she isn’t sure what. She knows we’re not quite normal, but at the moment I think she’s double-guessing herself, trying to put a rational explanation to it. She understands why we’re leaving, though, and she’s sorry she didn’t get toahem‘kiss you goodbye’.” Evelynne tried to look at her partner archly, pleased when Ally responded with the barest hint of a smile. “Something I should know about?” As soon as she’s said it she knew she’d made a mistake, as Ally gasped sharply and paled.

“No! I neverJean and I never” Ally turned pain-filled eyes on Evelynne, flinching when the other woman instinctively placed a calming hand on her arm.

“Ally, it’s all right! It was a joke! I didn’t mean anything by it! It was just a joke.”

She kept a reassuring touch on Ally’s arm as her partner exhaled a shaky breath and hung her head. “I know.”

“Guys? Are you okay?” Claire’s hesitant voice made them look up.

“Yeah,” Ally said with another shuddering breath. “You get everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Claire obviously knew she’d interrupted something, but chose not to comment on it. “I said goodbye to Corey, and picked up my stuff.” She lifted the single small case in her hand. “I also went and cleaned out my bank account.”

“Okay.” Ally cocked her head to listen to an announcement from the speakers overhead. “I think that’s our bus. We’ve got tickets to Philadelphia, then from there we fly to Seattle. We’ll get another bus over the border.”

“Where are we going?” Claire asked uncertainly.

Ally looked into the distance. “My old stomping grounds. Vancouver.”

Part 2

Chapter 17

She crouched on the edge of the rooftop, hunched over, and looked out over the lights of the city.

So I’m back.

She found herself absently fingering the edge of the long, dark grey hooded cloak she wore, and smiled wryly, the expression seeming stiff and unnatural. I’m surprised this old thing held up so well. The garment was slightly more worn and faded than the last time she had seen it. She had been mildly surprised that it had still been where she had left it, but perhaps that wasn’t so surprising. After all, the number of people who closely inspected the roofs of forty-story apartment buildings was rather limited. And finding the sealed package in its hiding place within an air vent decreased the odds even further. In fact, the garment had been discovered, but its new colonists had been gently relocated, squeaking in alarm, into a brand-new luxury shoebox, and seemed to be settling in well.

The figure on the rooftop wondered briefly if she should remain hunched over like a gargoyle, or whether to strike a more dramatic pose, then shrugged mentally. It’s not as though anyone’s going to see, she thought. Besides, it’s still possible to hunch dramatically. Batman does it all the time. Sighing, she stood upright and breathed in deeply.

And sneezed explosively as remnants of dust, caught in the cloth wrapped around her face under the hood, attacked her nose. “Great,” she muttered. “That’s heroic. That can be my codename: Sneeze-Girl, the Maiden of Mucus.”

The mild humour felt alien and unnatural, and the oddness of it reminded her of why it felt that way. Sobering at the memory, she carefully didn’t react to the sensation in her chest that was at once painfully tight and achingly hollow. Pushing away both the sensation and memory once again, she forced her mind elsewhere with the ease of long practice.

Looking back out over the city, she mused on how quiet it seemed. There was noise, to be surecars, sirens, snatches of music, conversationbut it all seemed surreal, seen from this vantage point. Under it all, she knew better than many, was the reality. People loved, hated, fought, had fun, experienced tragedy, and generally lived.

They’re lucky.

There was pain down there, too, and if she couldn’t do much for her own problems, occasionally she could do something about theirs. Taking a final breathwithout sneezing this timeshe stepped off into the air and was gone.

Evelynne looked up hopefully from the book she was reading as a figure momentarily darkened the doorway, and then subsided with mild disappointment as she saw who it was. If Claire harboured any resentment for that disappointment, she showed no sign. Instead, she rubbed her eyes blearily as she made her way over to the couch.

“Hi,” Evelynne said quietly, mindful of the otherwise silent house. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Eh, a headache,” Claire replied, rubbing her forehead reflexively, right along a line in her bicoloured skin. Her startlingly contrasting eyes, one brown, one an incredibly pale blue, looked at her friend. “She’s not back yet?” Evelynne shook her head. “Jesus, it’s after three in the morning! What does she do out there?”

Evelynne shrugged. “Oh, you know. Protects the innocent. Fights for Truth, Justice and the Canadian Way. Makes the streets safe for law-abiding citizens.” She shrugged again, her expression troubled despite her attempt at humour. In truth, she didn’t exactly know what Ally got up to on her nightly forays, and her partner’s silence in that respect was almost as troubling as the lack of knowledge itself.

“I thought being friends with a Princess was strange enough,” Claire mused. “Now I’m friends with a superhero, too.” They both managed a strained laugh before sobering.

Evelynne rubbed a hand through her hair, the action drawing Claire’s eyes. “That’s still strange.”

“What is?” Evelynne asked.

“Your hair. I’m still so used to it being red. When Corey suggested you dye it I wasn’t really expecting you to do it.”

Evelynne shrugged. Her hair had been styled shortly after they had arrived. Now it was about as far from her original long, flaming red style as it was possible to be. When first leaving Atlantl, she had cut it quite short, but left the colour. Now, while still short, it had been morphed into a spiky style and, most disconcertingly of all, dyed a blonde so pale that it was almost white. Wearing a pair of glasses to complete the disguise, Evelynne was now far removed from the princess she had once been. She amused herself sometimes by speculating on her father’s reaction when he saw her. So far her money was on the big, tough, masculine Diarch fainting clear away.

Ally had also changed. Now her hair was very short, nearly a buzz-cut, and she wore green contacts. With more makeup than she usually wore, including dark eyeliner and bright red lipstick, it was likely her own mother wouldn’t recognise her.

Claire was well aware that she was the weak point in the group, since covering up her brown-and-white tiger-striped colouring was, if not impossible, then very difficult. So far her contribution to anonymity consisted of staying inside most of the time, out of sight. Evelynne considered it supremely unfair, but Claire accepted it, since in the past her unique appearance had led her to lead an equally reclusive life.

“Would you like some tea?” Evelynne asked, reaching for the pot on the coffee table. “Or some cookies?”

“Let me guess,” Claire said wryly. “Mrs. Chen?” She grinned when Evelynne nodded. “‘You girls today are too thin. You need some meat on your bones,’” she mimicked.

“Be careful,” Evelynne cautioned, passing the plate over. “She’ll hear you and make you sit through another ten-course meal.”

Claire shrugged. “Even if I didn’t say it, she’d hear me thinking it. Besides, I like her ten-course meals.”

Evelynne chuckled again at the thought of their hostess, thinking back to the first time they had met.

“Here we are,” Ally said, leaning forward to pay the cab driver, and then opening the door and holding it for her companions.

Evelynne spent a moment looking up and down the street while Ally collected their luggage from the trunk. It was a typical Vancouver residential street, she supposed, similar small houses lining the road, each with its own small, tidy garden in front. The garden they had stopped in front of was a little more crowded than most, with herbs and vegetables planted in neat rows, but otherwise matched the house in its nondescript nature. Evelynne felt a little nonplussed.

“Okay, here we go,” Ally said, easily hefting both hers and Evelynne’s bags as she made her way up the short walk. Reaching the top of the few stairs, she reached out to ring the doorbell, but halted as the door swung open.

Evelynne blinked at the young boy, probably about five or six years old, who stood there, looking at them seriously. “Hi,” he said, his serious tone at odds with his high voice. “You’re Ally, right? Grandma said you were coming.” He paused, seeming to listen, although Evelynne could hear nothing. “Grandma says to leave your bags and come into the kitchen.”

His task completed, the boy turned and walked back into the house, leaving his guests to make their own way inside. Leaving their luggage by the door, the trio did so, Evelynne and Claire hesitantly, Ally with more confidence. The smell of baking led them to the kitchen, where Evelynne got her first sight of the redoubtable Mrs. Chen.

She was nothing like Evelynne expected. Evelynne had heard Mrs. Chen described by Ally as “the most skilled, most powerful telepath I’ve ever met. Not that that means much.” So she had been subconsciously expecting someone more impressive. She was not expecting a short, rather round and stooped Chinese woman, her face and hands deeply lined and spotted with age. She was wearing a simple red dress with a flower pattern, and an apron liberally dusted with flour. She was just finishing pulling a tray of muffins out of the oven, and turned to meet her guests with a smile.

“Ally, you’re finally here,” she said, hurrying around the kitchen table to wrap her arms around Ally’s waist. She was short enough to only come up to Ally’s chest, but still gave the impression that she was smothering the taller woman in her hug. Grasping Ally’s face in her hands, she pulled her down to kiss both cheeks, and then pulled back slightly to look deep into Ally’s eyes. “Oh, you poor dear,” she murmured, her wince barely noticeable as Ally looked away uncomfortably. With a final pat to Ally’s cheek, she turned to the other pair.

“And this is your wife,” she said, smiling more fully at Evelynne, who blushed at the title.

“No, not quite, Mrs. Chen,” she replied. “We haven’t”

“Oh, hush.” Evelynne’s eyes widened as words appeared in her head with crystal clarity. It was the first time anyone had ever projected their own thoughts into her mind before. Until now Evelynne had been the one in control of any conversations. You just haven’t gone through the ceremony yet. You’re already connected more closely than most people ever are. Mrs Chen studied Evelynne a moment longer, apparently completely unimpressed by Evelynne’s royal status. “And you’re what Ally calls a telepath, as well. Oh my. We’re going to have some long discussions, dear.” She smiled reassuringly at Evelynne before turning her attention to Claire. “And you

Oh my.” She cast a sideways glance at Ally. “You’ve found another one, haven’t you? Won’t this be interesting?” she murmured, almost to herself. She shook head, coming back to herself.

“Hi. I’m Claire,” the other woman introduced herself awkwardly.

“Indeed. Claire. It’s wonderful to meet you.” Turning back to the kitchen at large. “And you’ve already met my grandson, Deng. Although he hasn’t introduced himself yet.” She glared at the boy with mock severity.

“Mmm

I’m Deng,” he mumbled, blushing. “I’m five.” He kept looking at Claire’s distinctive face.

“Hello, Deng,” Evelynne said, grinning. “Nice to meet you. I’m Evelynne. I’m twenty.”

“Oh.” Deng looked at her seriously. “You’re Ally’s girlfriend, right?”

Claire and Mrs. Chen chuckled as Evelynne blushed. “Yes. That’s right.”

“Oh. Okay.” Deng looked at Claire. “Are you her girlfriend, too?”

Evelynne almost laughed aloud as Claire turned red and black. “N-no,” Claire choked out. “I’m just her friend.”

“But you’re a girl, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose I am.”

That seemed to satisfy the five-year-old. “Okay. I like your face. It’s neat.”

Claire looked beseechingly at her bemused audience. “Thanks.”

Mrs. Chen rescued her. “Well, the bathroom’s down the hall if you’d like to freshen up. Once you’re ready we can sit and have a cup of tea and you can tell me all about what you’ve been doing.”

Evelynne came back to herself as she realised Claire was talking. “Pardon?”

“I said I was hoping Mrs. Chen makes that fish soup again.”

“That was good. Brain food.” This kind of casual conversation was extremely soothing, and Evelynne felt herself relaxing.

“Yeah. I need all the brain fuel I can get after all the exercise I’ve been putting mine through.” Claire winced, rubbing her temples again

Evelynne smiled sympathetically. “Come on over here,” she said, patting the couch beside her.

Claire complied hesitantly, allowing Evelynne to turn her around. Her eyes closed as Evelynne took over the task, gently massaging her temples and forehead from behind. “Ooh, that’s good.”

Evelynne smiled. “Ally’s been working you pretty hard, hasn’t she?”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Actually, she’s been really great. Very patient. It’s just that no matter how hard I try, I can’t control this vision thing of mine completely.”

“Well, maybe that’s your problem. You shouldn’t try so hard.”

“That’s what Ally says. She says I should just ‘let it flow’. I already have the talent. I’ve just been repressing it so hard for the last twenty-two years. She says I have to let it flow like a river and let it clear out all the blockages that are there. She thinks a lot of it might be chemical, from the pills I always took whenever I had an attack.” Claire shivered slightly, and Evelynne’s hands shifted to her shoulders in comfort. Giving up her pills had been the hardest thing for Claire, after years of depending on them for defence against her “attacks”.

“Well, trust her on that. She’s had a lot more experience than either of us.”

“True. She actually thinks that I have a whole lot more raw talent than she does in that respect. In the ESP thing, I mean. I still can’t move things with my mind like she does.” Claire’s tone was wondering.

“I think the phrase is ‘join the club.’ Believe me, I’ve been trying to do that for months, without a hint of ability. I suppose we should just stick with what we’re good at for the moment. I know that I’ve been learning a huge amount from Mrs. Chen. The things she can do? That’s impressive.”

“Yeah, her way of getting us up in the morning is

interesting,” Claire said with amusement.

Evelynne laughed. “It’s not like we can put the pillow over our heads and drown it out, either. Do you think she makes her mental singing voice as bad as her physical singing voice on purpose?”

“She must,” Claire replied, her voice becoming drowsier as she relaxed into Evelynne’s massage. “Ally’s lucky that she can shut her out.” Her tone became clearer as she sobered. “When do you think Mrs. Chen will start working with Ally?”

“I’m not sure,” Evelynne said. “She just says she has to wait until Ally’s ‘ready.’”

Claire hummed in agreement, and involuntarily relaxed further into Evelynne’s massage. It was still wildly unreal to her that this was happening; a part of her was completely unconvinced that Evelynne was, in fact, Princess Evelynne deMolay. After all, it was simply impossible that she would be getting a shoulder massage from the Heir to one of the most powerful nations on the planet. Ergo, it could not be happening. Four months ago I was a nobody, living day-to-day in a vague attempt to, well, just continue living. I just knew I’d live and die in obscurity. Now I’m learning psychic remote viewing from a genuine demigoddess and her Royal lesbian lover, while hiding from assassins in the house of an old Chinese woman who happens to be a powerful telepath. Someone up there has a sense of humour.

Claire realised that Evelynne’s hands were no longer moving, and she looked over her shoulder at her friend. The other woman was looking into space with a wistful expression. “Do you think she’ll be all right?” Evelynne asked. “Do you think she’ll get better?”

“I’m sure she will,” Claire said, striving to project more confidence into her voice than she really felt. She had been there the first time Ally had come out of her drug-induced stupor at the hospital, and had witnessed the initial reactions. While she believed that it was possible for Ally to come back, she had no idea how it would happen. For now, though, she just wrapped Evelynne in a reassuring embrace. “She’ll need help, which is why we’re here, but I know she wants to come back. We just need to wait for her.”

“I know,” Evelynne said. “Only sometimes”

She stopped as a slight clatter echoed through the house from back door. There was silence for a moment as both women strained their ears, then the soft patter of feet along the hallway. “She’s back,” Claire said.

A moment later Ally peeked around the doorway to the sitting room, her only expression one of mild surprise. “I didn’t think you’d still be up,” she said.

“We were waiting for you,” Evelynne said, standing to walk over to her lover. She gasped as Ally’s face registered. “Ally, your face

“

“What?” Ally reached up to rub what looked like a dark bruise. A black substance came away on her fingers. “Oh, it’s just some oil, I think. You’d think they’d keep the docks cleaner. I’m just going to have a shower and clean off, then head to bed.” She hesitated a moment, looking at Evelynne with an unfathomable expression, then turned and headed back down the hall.

Evelynne let out the breath she’d been holding in a near sob. “No,” she said, so softly Claire almost didn’t hear her. “She’s not back. Not yet.”

The squad room of the West Vancouver Royal Canadian Mounted Police detachment was as loud and busy as it ever was, as Sergeant Oliver Marchant stared down at the file in his hands. The telephone conversation transcribed therein was electrifying. Called in to the local tip line, it was an information windfall, assuming it turned out to be accurate. Verifying that accuracy would be Marchant’s first task, but somehow he knew that it was true. He had been on the local anti-smuggling task force a few years previously, and had been a “point man” acting on information from an anonymous source that had been erratic, but always perfectly solid, over a period of about four years. That source, or group of similar sources, had provided a wealth of tips on crimes ranging from drug trafficking, to robberies, to domestic disputes, to missing persons. Whoever it was obviously had an eye on just about every criminal aspect in the city, and Marchant would have given his left arm to know who it was. The source had dried up quite abruptly about two years ago, but the current tip had exactly the same flavour.

“She’s back,” he murmured. In fact, he wasn’t absolutely positive about the source’s gender, much less about anything else, but he had spoken to several of the tip line operators who had opined that the voice on the other end, while disguised, was female.

Grabbing the phone on his desk, Marchant dialled. “Henry? Oliver Marchant here

Good, how about you?… Really? Well, I’m calling to make you the second happiest cop on the west coast

Yeah, second happiest. I’m claiming the top spot. You know that heroin shipment all our street sources say is coming?… That’s the one. I have it

I am serious

You remember a few years ago we had that source we called the Lady? I think she’s back.”

Chapter 18

Mr Ambassador, welcome. Thank you for meeting with me. Queen Cleo walked towards the diminutive man with a hand outstretched. I apologise for being late. You know how it is.

No apology is necessary, Your Majesty, Ambassador Frances Mlovo of the Ivory Coast murmured, taking the proffered hand and bowing over it. And I do indeed. If he was at all nervous about meeting the Queen he hid it well, but could not hide his curiosity at being summoned so late in the evening.

The Ivory Coast was a moderately important trading partner for the Realm of Atlantl, though it acted more as a gateway to the rest of the League of West African Nations. The Congo and Nigeria were far wealthier and more powerful, so the Ivory Coast’s Ambassador rarely interacted directly with the upper levels of the Atlantlan Nobility, instead working through various trade commissions. When one of theDiarchs took a direct interest in one’s country it was obvious that something significant was in the air, though whether for good or ill of said country was impossible to say.

Please, have a seat, the Queen said, and waved towards a tray covered with food. Would you care for some refreshments?

Part of Ambassador Mlovo relaxed. If Queen Cleo had been planning on delivering wholly unpleasant news it was unlikely she would have offered food. Rumours of the way she, along with King Jad, had dressed down one of their own Nobles, before stripping him of power completely, had reached even the foreign diplomatic community. From what was known, the fool had eminently deserved his fate, but the rumour had also ensured that when Their Majesties brought the axe down on some unfortunate there would be no uncertainty.

Thank you, Your Majesty, Mlovo said, filling a glass with fruit juice, and then waited for the Queen to fill hers before exchanging glasses in formal Atlantlan tradition. They sipped at the same time, and then, formalities completed, sat down. Mlovo waited patiently for Queen Cleo to speak.

I wish I could say I invited you here to impart some good news, Queen Cleo began, and the Ambassador felt his stomach clench again.

Yes, Your Majesty? he asked.

The Queen sighed. I have been in meeting with twenty-eight ambassadors already today, she continued, and I have another six scheduled for after we have finished speaking. I hope you will forgive me if I drop diplomacy and speak plainly.

Ambassador Mlovo sat up even straighter. Thirty-five ambassadors in a single day wasn’t simply significant; it was literally world-spanning. Of course, Your Majesty. I will take no offence.

Excellent, the Queen said, and her weary smile showed Mlovo just how tired she really was. Today I have been informing all countries involved of Atlantl’s intention to begin criminal proceedings against all of the enemy combatants involved in the Invasion.

The shock showed on Mlovo’s face. The countries involved, Your Majesty? So



I’m sorry to inform you that several of your citizens were among the Invaders. Queen Cleo reached for a stack of thick files sitting on a side table. Eight, to be exact. She handed the files to the Ambassador, who took them with shaking hands. The details on the individuals are there, along with what information our investigations have revealed about the crimes they commthe crimes they arealleged to have commited. She spat out the correction, and then composed herself. You will also find the charges our investigators are recommending for each individual. Now, official charges have not been laid yet. You may consider these files as a starting point.

The Ambassador looked down at the files numbly. I will admit to surprise, Your Majesty, he said in a remarkably calm voice. Your Foreign Department has made no comments about what would be done with those

individuals involved.

What, did you think we would place them all on some island somewhere and hope everyone forgot about them? The Queen’s voice was chiding, but deadly serious at the same time. To be honest, it has been suggested. There are a large number of angry people in my government right now. It has been suggested by some that the Invaders should be considered Prisoners of War, and therefore subject to the Geneva Convention. Our official stance is that to be classified as such those prisoners must be acknowledged and sanctioned by some legally recognised government agency. At that point, we shall take such sanction to represent a deliberate assault and invasion on our citizens and territory by that government, and will thereby consider it an official Act of War. Appropriate reprisals will be considered.

Ambassador Mlovo shrank into himself at her flat, icy statement. Nobody wanted the Realm of Atlantl to consider them a hostile nation. Even short of outright war, the Realm could do all kinds of nasty things to one’s economy and trade routes. I cannot, of course, make any binding statements before consulting with my government, Your Majesty, he said carefully, but I believe I can say with some certainty that my President will not be supporting the actions of these

persons.

I understand, Mr Ambassador, the Queen replied. And I apologise for my tone. Not all of the people I have met today have been so

reasonable.

Of course, Your Majesty. Mlovo hesitated. Considering the nature of these

alleged crimes, I am obligated to ask about the possibility of extradition for my citizens.

Extradition will be considered, the Queen admitted. It will be decided on a country-by-country basis. Certain guarantees will be required to ensure that these people do not simply walk free once they return to their homelands.

Understood, Your Majesty. Again, I cannot make promises, but I believe my government will allow you to undertake proceedings without interference. We may request that observers and legal counsel from my country be allowed to participate.

That can be arranged. My office will be happy to appoint a Liaison. The Queen stood, holding out her hand again with a smile. And now I’m afraid I must prepare for the next meeting. Thank you for your understanding and courtesy, Mr Ambassador. I can only hope your contemporaries I have yet to meet this evening are as helpful.

Theodora Nixon rang the doorbell, shifting her jacket uncomfortably. After so long in uniform, it felt odd to be wearing civilian attire. Still, somehow she thought full Guard regalia wouldn’t go over so well with the people she was coming to meet. It would have looked quite out of place among the small, quiet neighbourhood of Kilim she was in.

A moment later the door was opened by a young, attractive blonde woman. “Hello? Oh, you must be Colonel Nixon,” the woman greeted, smiling. “Please, come in.” Theodora smiled a little more uncertainly and did so. “May I take your coat? I’m Jennifer Armston, by the way.”

“Pleased to meet you,” the Colonel said, surrendering her jacket. “Please, call me Theodora.”

“Of course,” Jennifer said, still smiling. “Please, come on through to the living room. You’re the last to arrive.”

Theodora followed the blonde towards the sounds of conversation, which halted as she entered the room. “Hello, everyone, this is Colonel Theodora Nixon. She’s also had experiences like ours.” Perhaps two dozen people were inside, with a wide range of ages and appearances.

“A colonel? Like with the Guard?” a young dark-skinned man asked suspiciously. “Is that really wise?”

“Please, Hunter, not again,” chided an older bearded man in a turban. “We are all here because of our shared experiences. If we have to go through this again every time we have a government official joining us, Imos will begin to think you don’t like him.” There was a chuckle, as everyone looked at a middle-aged man still dressed in a police uniform.

“Yeah, well how do we know she’s not some sort of spy come to lock us away for what we know?” Hunter shot back.

“Hunter, any one of us could be a spy,” the older man replied calmly. “I choose to have faith that none of us are, and that nothing we are doing is in any way illegal or immoral in any case.”

There was a general murmur of agreement from the group, and Colonel Nixon felt a twinge of guilt at their accepting tone. The fact was that she was there as a spy of sorts, though one without real malicious intent. Instead, she was present in a semi-official capacity as sworn protector to her charge, in a reconnaissance mission to determine what, if any, threat this group might pose. So far nothing she had discovered about them suggested any immediate danger, but considering the unique nature of her ward, a certain degree of extra vigilance was called for.

She had first heard of this group, which seemed to lack any official name, through an email that had been forwarded by a friend in the Customs Office. Almost a year previously, her friend had been involved in a massive drug bust, which had been aided by some mysterious force that had helped save the lives of at least a dozen agents at various times during the operation. Dubbed “the Angel” by those who had experienced it, the being, whatever it was, had never been seen clearly, at best as a flitting shadow in the darkness. It had vanished just as abruptly as it had appeared.

However, Colonelthen MajorNixon had been one of a mere handful of people who had discovered the true identity of “the Angel”: Dame Alleandre Tretiak, now Consort to the Heir to the Realm. Since then, the Colonel had very cautiously extended her feelers into finding out just who knew what about the incidents.

The news had been incredibly sparse, until her friend had forwarded information of a very surreptitiously circulated attempt by certain people to find others with similar shared experiences: namely being rescued from some danger by a mysterious, possibly supernatural agency. Digging a little deeper, Nixon had discovered that the core of the group was a number of people who had been saved from a plane crash in the middle of a massive storm. The headalthough she seemed to be more an initiator than a true leaderwas a woman named Jennifer Armston, who, along with her son Lemar, had been among those rescued.

Knowing that Alleandre Tretiak had been responsible for both incidents, Colonel Nixon had continued with her investigation into how much of a threat this group posed, and that had led her here tonight.

“Please don’t mind Hunter,” the older man was saying, holding out his hand. “I’m Hakim abd-al-Rahim. Welcome.” He looked at Nixon speculatively. “Nixon. That’s an unusual name.”

Theodora smiled. “My parents were refugees from the States during the McCarthy Persecution. They weren’t actually Communists, but they were left-wing enough to be targeted. Of course, considering who became President a few decades later, the name is somewhat ironic.”

“Very,” Hakim agreed, smiling. “Well, let me introduce you.”

As she passed around the room, even shaking hands with a reluctant Hunter, Colonel Nixon considered her initial impressions. So far they seemed to be a quite normal, if highly eclectic, group. There were actually two policemen from Kilim, a firefighter, a couple of Customs agents, and two members of the Avaloni Army Corp. The rest were a seemingly random mix of businessmen, teachers, workers, and artists. Three religious membersa Catholic priest, an Imam, and a Priest of Osirisrounded out the group. It seemed like a bizarre social club.

After some time of individual socialising, complete with drinks and snacks provided by Jennifer Armston, their hostess, the gathering began to fall into more order. Taking up seats in a rough circle around the living room, the group grew quiet as Jennifer stood. “Welcome again,” she began, obviously a little nervous. “First of all, I’d like to welcome you all back, and especially welcome Colonel Theodora Nixon.” She turned to face the Colonel. “I don’t know how much you know about how we do things here, but we’re fairly informal. We just ask that you respect everyone else here. We let everyone speak if they wish to. Now, I know you’ve told me about your own experience with the phenomenon we all hold common, and if you like, I invite you to tell everyone else here. However, if you would like to wait a while, that is fine also.”

Theodora cleared her throat. “Thank you, but I’d like to just sit for a bit, if that’s all right.” The story she had given Jennifer as proof of her “experience” was in fact a highly edited version of the final battle through the Royal Palace during the Invasion.

“Of course.” Jennifer turned back to the rest of the group. “Now, if I remember correctly, last time we met we were just getting into whether this Entity we experienced was of divine nature or not.”

“Of course she is,” Father John Burnett said. “However, probably not in the manner you think. She is divine, but only in the same manner in which we are all representations of the Ultimate Divine. Granted, she may be blessed by God, but if you are suggesting that she is like our Lord Jesus as a direct agent of His will, I cannot agree.”

“She?” Nixon asked, curious.

“One of the thingspossibly the only thingthat we all agree on is that the Entity that affected us is female,” Jennifer explained.

“Not necessarily female,” Edith Nahale, one of the police officers, objected. “Feminine, yes. But not necessarily female in a physical sense.”

“Of course,” said Hylaeal I’Ranu, the Osirian priest. “But to get back to the point, I have to admit my own uncertainty over her divine nature.”

“Or diabolic,” Hunter interjected, but without condemnation.

“I do not think she can be characterised as evil,” Hylaeal disagreed, shaking his head. “When I was helped from my car after my accident, I got a sense of goodness. A certain amount of uncertainty and even fear, yes, but certainly not evil. The teachings of my Temple say that ethereal beings, be they of the Dark or Light, cannot disguise their true natures. Ma’at forces the good to be good and the evil to be evil. Only the races of man may conceal their souls. So, if she is of supernatural origin, she cannot be evil. If, on the other hand, she is human, I think her actions still show her as good.”

“But how can she be human?” Fatima Therreault, a businesswoman from Ekion Bel, asked. “Humans cannot do the kinds of things she did.”

“Not from Earth, no,” Hunter said, leaning forward as his face lit up. “But who knows what beings from other worlds can accomplish?”

“Oh please, not the alien theory again,” a bespectacled man groaned. “It just has too many logical inconsistencies.”

As the discussion began to get into full swing and started to verge on an argument, Theodora Nixon watched and listened in fascination.

“So what did you think?” Jennifer asked as she held out Colonel Nixon’s coat.

The Colonel was one of the last to leave, and the meeting had continued past midnight. “It was interesting,” she hedged. “A lot of different theories.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to hear yours.” Jennifer cocked her head at Theodora. “You know, I think you know a lot more than you’re letting on, Colonel Nixon,” she said in a slow, soft voice. “You are far more aware of what she represents than any of the rest of us are.” The Colonel barely repressed her discomfort at the uncanny insight of the other woman. “If you do know who she is

what she is

please just tell her ‘Thank you’. She saved my life, and that of my son, and because of that

” She trailed off, leaving the implication in the air.

There was a moment of silence. “If you found out who she is, what would you do?” Theodora asked.

“Do? I don’t know. Whoever she is, she’s affected all of us. And I don’t just mean saving our lives. She’s

inspired us. Most of us, anyway. She’s given us a glimpse of the possibilities in the world, regardless of who or what she is; the world beyond the banal. Because of her, I’m going back to school. I’m getting my degree in psychology. I’m even thinking of applying to the Advisory College one day. She laughed. Hunter has started his own magazine devoted to paranormal events. The latest issue had an article that aliens from Psi Draconis were controlling our lives. Nixon grinned as well. It seems silly to us, but he’senthusiastic about it.

So, what would I do if I met her? I don’t know what I could do. She obviously doesn’t want acclaim, or money, or worship. That’s why I get uncomfortable when they all start talking about her ‘divinity’. I actually saw her, touched her, and she’s as human as anyone else. I think I could only hope to help her like she’s helped me.”

“Now, Ally, are you ready?” the short Asian woman asked, looking at her kindly.

Ally took a shaky breath and shifted into a more comfortable position on her cushion. “I guess so,” she said. “Ready as I’ll ever be. I hope it works this time.”

Mrs. Chen shook her head. “It is not about having it ‘work’, Ally. I cannot simply heal what has been twisted. I do not know that anyone can. I simply seek to let the energy flow so that you may heal yourself.”

“I know,” Ally said, looking down at her crossed legs. “You said that before. II want to be

better.”

“I know you do, dear. But that will take time.”

“Yeah.” Taking another breath, Ally tried to consciously relax herself. “Well, shall we get started again?”

Mrs. Chen looked vaguely sceptical, but nodded nonetheless. “Very well. Now, close your eyes and centre yourself. Concentrate on your breathing

Feel the way the energy flows in and out

and through. It ebbs and flows

Each pulse moving slightly more clearly, more easily through your body

“

Ally relaxed into the softly spoken words. She was able to cut out the gross physical world easily. Slowly even the feel of the cushion beneath her faded.

Finally, after far more false starts that had become usual, she settled into a quiet, calm state, able to examine herself with a degree of objectivity. The trance state was familiar after several years of practice, but this time, like most times recently, there was an uncomfortable undertone, a subtle sensation of wrongness in her own mind. It felt like everything was still “present”, but all the aspects of her mind were skewed, like an Escher drawing, or a fun-house mirror. Some parts felt “farther away”, or had a different “texture” than she remembered. Of course, Ally knew that everyone’s mind changed over time, but these changes were more like the result of an earthquake, rather than the slow change of continental drift.

The though-forms of her powers seemed little affected, but they were just about the only thing. Ally’s emotions seemed very far away, even concealed behind some mental barrier. While the mechanism of her eidetic memory appeared intact, she instinctively shied away from any of the remembrances it might call up.

A very diffuse mental pulse registered, a sign that Mrs. Chen was about to enter her mind, and she tried to relax and offer as little resistance as possible. Finally the other presence appeared, somehow both nebulous and solid in this unconventional dimension. The other mind radiated a warm comfort that Ally remembered from years previously, a sign of the skill the other woman possessed. Seeming to smile at Ally’s strangely disembodied presence in her own mind, Mrs. Chen “turned” her attention to the rest of the mental landscape. With a feather-light touch she gently brushed over the surface, but Ally still felt the contact as if it were sandpaper brushed over acid-burned skin. She managed to maintain the trance state with difficulty, but found herself fighting rising panic as Mrs. Chen approached the odd barrier that seemed to separate her from her emotions. In some unfathomable way, that barrier segregated the emotions, but also bound them into the rest of her mind. Working to remain calm, Ally was able to remain in control until Mrs. Chen touched the barrier, and then she snapped.

Rocketing out of the trance so quickly it made her nauseous, Ally reached the waking world and realised she was screaming. With a deep ragged gasp she stopped, bending over her knees and breathing hard while a massive headache built behind her eyes. Finally looking up, she saw that Mrs. Chen was controlling her own breathing, and the other woman’s deeply lined skin was drawn and pale. She dropped her head again, cradling it in her own hands. Slowly she managed to bring the pain under control, banishing it with another meditative technique that she found strangely easy.

“I’m sorry,” she said dully. “I don’t know what

I’m sorry.”

Ally flinched as she felt the older woman’s gentle hand on her head. “No, don’t be sorry. I moved too quickly. I went where I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Ally just nodded and buried her head in Mrs. Chen’s motherly chest, waiting for tears that never came.

“How’s she doing?” Claire asked softly as Evelynne and Mrs. Chen came down the stairs from the attic bedroom and into the living room.

“She’s asleep,” Evelynne said dully, taking a seat on the couch next to her friend and leaning her head back. “It didn’t take long, but she went out like a light.” Claire hesitantly put a hand on Evelynne’s shoulder and squeezed gently, while Mrs. Chen eased herself into an armchair. Evelynne looked over at the older woman. “It isn’t working.” There was just the faintest tinge of accusation in her tone.

“It’s early yet,” Mrs. Chen said calmly, though her own expression was troubled. “These things take time.”

Evelynne shook her head. “No, it’s more than that. If she was just taking a very long time to get better, that would be one thing. But she’s actually getting worse. I can see it. Can’t you?” She directed the question at Claire.

“I don’t think” Claire began, but stopped when she saw Evelynne’s pleading gaze. “Yeah, I think she is. She’s not eating, she’s staying out later and later, and when she’s here, she sleeps most of the time. I’m scared she’s going to get sick. Physically sick.”

Mrs. Chen sighed. “I know,” she admitted. “I truly thought I could help her, heal enough of the damage to let her begin healing herself. She has so many barriers in her mind now, and her energy is not flowing where and how it should. Her chi is very unbalanced, and I’d hoped to restore a measure of evenness. I have tried reiki, acupuncture, meditation, tai chi, in addition to soul-healing, but the barriers are too strong. After all, it is Ally’s mind that is creating the walls, even unconsciously, and with a mind as strong as hers

“

Evelynne swallowed back tears. “So what do we do? I swore I’d protect her and aid her in any way possible. Any way at all, without exception. If that means taking the risk of going back to Atlantl, that’s what we’ll do.”

Mrs. Chen shook her head. “I do not believe that is necessary. I have studied Atlantean practices, and there is not much that your people can do that we cannot do here. At times I think it would be a great boon to have Ally’s parents come and help, but she has firmly vetoed that idea.”

Evelynne and Claire nodded. Evelynne had tentatively suggested either bringing Ally’s parents to Vancouver, or have Ally visit them in Parksville on Vancouver Island, and Ally’s response had been adamant. With half the world looking for the Heir to Atlantl and her Consort, said Consort’s family would very likely be under constant surveillance, or at least Atlantlan protection. Either way, there was no means to guarantee the secrecy of such a meeting, and Ally was about to take no risks with the lives of either her parents or fianc?e. Still, on a few occasions Evelynne had caught Ally staring out the window of their attic bedroom, which happened to look in the direction of Vancouver Island, with a sad, wistful expression that had cleared as soon as Ally realised she was not alone.

“So, what else can we do?” Claire asked.

“Well, as reluctant as I am to admit it, it seems increasingly likely that I cannot aid Ally on my own. I can do many things, but I think it likely that she might respond better to a more Western style of therapy. I happen to know a person with a slight degree of experience in cases somewhat similar to Ally’s. I can guarantee her discretion absolutely. Perhaps some good old-fashioned psychotherapy will help where I cannot.”

Evelynne was torn between two instinctive responses. The first was to vehemently oppose the idea, concern over Ally’s safety, and her own, surging to the fore. As much as she trusted Mrs. Chen’s word, the past few months were beginning to take their toll on her paranoia levels. The second response was to grab for any means that offered some hope to help Ally, and restore their relationship once more. The struggle between the two impulses was brief.

“So who is this therapist?”

Chapter 19

Sergeant Rupert Gyrus took a deep breath to steady his nerves and twitched his uniform, complete with his brand new Sergeant’s stripes, a little better into place. Colonel Nixon was a fairly laid-back commander, although she was Sekhmet Herself if she thought one wasn’t taking one’s responsibilities seriously, but she radiated a natural intensity that instinctively made her subordinates make sure they were always at their best. Considering that her own previous mentor and commander was Colonel Sir Arthur Ramirez, Master of the Heir’s Guard, it wasn’t surprising.

When he was sure that his appearance was flawless, Gyrus knocked on the Colonel’s office door, entering when he heard the occupant bark, “In!” Slipping inside and closing the door behind him, he saw that his superior officer was on the phone, and evidently quite unhappy. Standing at attention before her desk, he waited for her to formally acknowledge his presence. The Colonel’s face was tight with anger, andGyrus felt a moment of relief that it wasn’t directed at him. While the Colonel was too thin and severe to be considered truly beautiful, not to mention being twice his age, her sheer presence and intensity had left Gyrus harbouring an attraction to her for a briefa very briefperiod of time. That had lasted until the first time he had screwed up royally in a training exercise, actually managing to “shoot” his own simulated protectee in the back, and the resulting dressing down he had received had firmly eliminated any lingering attraction. Fortunately, the Colonel didn’t seem to harbour any resentment, and after the verbal flaying she had assumed that he had learned his lesson and would just get back to training.

“I don’t care who has to sign off on it! I need them

Listen, if I have to I’ll get the Director himself to come and jump on your head

I don’t care

I. Don’t. Care. What, you think Count Yesa takes priority over the Heir and her Consort? I could call His Majesty and ask his opinion on that if you’d like.” The Colonel grinned evilly. “I thought so. I’ll be expecting the delivery. Thank you for your cooperation.” Just barely refraining from slamming down the phone, she hung up, running a hand through her short hair. “Damn, lousy, pencil-pushing ver’esh,” she muttered, glancing up at Gyrus. “We’re getting some new top-secret prototype carbon-fibre anti-ballistic uniforms, and they’re making noises about needing Lord Rodrigo’s permission as head of the Science Council. I didn’t just tell you that, by the way.”

“Of course not, Ma’am,” Gyrus said instantly. “Do you need me to pencil in some training time for the new equipment I don’t know is arriving?”

Colonel Nixon chuckled, relaxing. “No, not yet. I think I put the fear of Jad into them, but it will still take them some time to get their ba and khat together. I’ll let you know.” Realising that the Sergeant was still standing, she waved him to a chair. “At ease, Gyrus. Sit. So how’s Te’Inti? I was afraid I might have broken her.”

“Oh, she’ll be fine, Ma’am. She’s tougher than she looks. Apparently Captain Benson’s teaching her a few moves so that she can get her own back the next time you spar. You didn’t hear that from me, Ma’am.”

“Of course not, Sergeant. So, if you’re not here to challenge me to a duel over Te’Inti, why are you here?”

Gyrus swallowed and shifted nervously. “I, uh, have a development to report, Ma’am.” He gestured to her spotless desk. “May I?” When his superior nodded, puzzled, he leaned forward and placed a singletalen coin on the surface.

The Colonel looked at it, then back to him. “I’m not sure I understand, Sergeant. If it’s a bribe you’re reporting it sure isn’t much of one. You should have held out for more.”

“No, Ma’am. He hesitated. You know how Lady Alleandre can do the things she can?” The Colonel nodded, suddenly wary. “Well, ever since I found out I’ve been trying to do the same thing.” He flushed, as though he had been caught trying to fly off the roof with a blanket around his neck.

Colonel Nixon laughed at the flush. “You’re not the only one on the team who’s been trying, Gyrus. Heck, you’re not even the only one in this room.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Well, anyway, yesterday I was trying and, well

” Giving up trying to explain, Gyrus focussed his attention on the coin on the desk, his face becoming a mask of intense concentration. The Colonel looked on curiously as the silence stretched on for almost a minute.

“I don’t think”

Abruptly, Gyrus’ face relaxed. A moment later, the coin moved. Not very far, perhaps an inch or two, but the significant fact was that he hadn’t touched it in any way.

“Holy Sekhmet,” Nixon breathed, sitting bolt upright in her chair as her gaze went from the now-motionless coin to Sergeant Gyrus’ sweating face.

“I know it’s not very impressive, Ma’am,” Gyrus said, wiping his brow. “At least not compared to what she can do. But”

“But it’s leagues ahead of what any of the rest of us are capable of. So how did you do it?”

“Uh, well, for a long time I was trying to do it by concentrating really hard, Ma’am. I was really trying my hardest, but nothing ever happened. Then yesterday I was trying again, and then just gave up. And then it moved. It’s like I built up thethe force, but was holding it back, and then when I relaxed I suddenly let it go. That’s the best I can describe it, Ma’am.” He shrugged.

“Mm. And you can do it at will?”

“Not quite, Ma’am,” Gyrus said apologetically. “Obviously I’ve tried a whole lot of times since yesterday, and my success rate is only about twenty per cent.”

“That’s better than zero per cent,” the Colonel murmured. “So, do you think you can teach the rest of us to do this?”

The Sergeant looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know, Ma’am. I’ve been doing some research, and from what I can guess, this sort of thing is usually pretty individual. Every instance I’ve been able to find has a different technique. I don’t know. Maybe Lady Alleandre would be able to teach it better, but of course I’m willing to try.”

“I understand,” Colonel Nixon said slowly, her mind racing with new possibilities. “Well, I think you can start with trying to teach me.”

Claire walked into the living room, shivering a little from the chill that pervaded the house. The weather outside had turned cold and rainy, so she wasn’t terribly surprised to see that even Ally had forgone her usual afternoon “walkabout” in favour of a drier, more comfortable environment. The other woman was half-reclining on the couch in the living room, a thick book resting on her stomach, while soft violin music filled the air.

Ally looked up as Claire approached, and managed to smile stiffly, although it had little of the joy and warmth Claire had become used to from their stay in the States. “Hi,” she said, easing herself into an armchair. “Good to be out of the rain, huh?” It wasn’t the most original conversation opener, but Claire was willing to try anything to draw Ally out of her shell.

“No kidding,” Ally agreed. She glanced out the window into the greyness outside. “Ahh, good to be back in the Land of Liquid Sunshine.”

Claire laughed. “Yeah, Vancouver does have that reputation, doesn’t it? Rains all the time?”

“That’s the reputation,” Ally confirmed, “but really, it’s exaggerated a bit, just like anywhere else. Sure, during the winter it rains almost constantly, but during the summer it can get really dry. Almost drought-like, really. My parents get their water from a well, and every few years it runs dry on them during the hottest parts of the summer.”

“Well, lucky me to see it in the fall, huh?” Claire said wryly. “I haven’t seen Evelynne around. Is she with Mrs. Chen again?”

Although Claire watched closely, Ally didn’t seem to react to the mention of her lover’s name, and she couldn’t decide whether that was a good or bad sign. While Ally rarely displayed emotional pain any longer in association with Evelynne, the distance that was developing was almost more disturbing, especially considering the love and passion that Claire remembered from a mere month earlier.

“Yeah, they’re practicing emotional projection. I thought you might be helping them.”

“No, although they have got me to help out a few times. A guinea pig, you know. It isn’t always fun. Suddenly getting angry or scared for no reason isn’t something I’d like to do often.”

This time there was the barest flicker of reaction from Ally, but it cleared almost before Claire recognised it. Ally had been deliberately avoiding the possibility of any sort of psychic contact with Evelynne, and recently that aversion had spread to Mrs. Chen as well. Shaking herself ever so slightly, Ally changed the subject. “Well, come and sit a spell. I found Mrs. Chen’s music collection.” She gestured towards the stereo system. “It’s rather impressive.”

“Yeah, I know. I saw it earlier,” Claire said. “It is quite eclectic, isn’t it? Everything from Beethoven and Mozart to traditional Chinese.”

“That’s only the surface. She’s even got some Intl’izi.”

Claire frowned. “I’m not sure I know who that is.”

“Oh, she was an Atlantlan composer from the 1500s. She’s considered the mother of Atlantlan classical music.”

“Oh. Still, that’s not the most disturbing.” Claire shook her head. “The thought of Mrs. Chen boogying down to Glass Tiger and Nirvana is really scary.”

Ally actually laughed, and Claire couldn’t help but feel her heart jump at the sound. It sounded almost like the old Ally she used to know. “So you found those, too, huh?” Ally asked, still chuckling. “Well, I don’t know if they’re in this batch.” She waved at the system. “I just hit play with whatever was in the changer.” The slow strains of Holst’s Saturn faded, the stereo clicked and whirred as another CD was dropped into place. “We’re going with the luck of the” Ally halted, her gaze going distant as the new music began.

She appeared to be lost in the sound, and Claire frowned as she tried to place the music. “This is Enigma, isn’t it?”

Ally seemed to come partially back to the present. “Yeah,” she said absently. “Their first CD. This song’s called

uh

Principles of Lust.” She blushed slightly.

“Oh. You like this song?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long time since I’ve listened to it, though. It brings back a lot

” She trailed off, then flushed again as she saw Claire looking at her.

“Good memories?” Claire wasn’t sure she should push, but this was one of the few cracks she had seen in Ally’s new armour, and she instinctively tried to gently pry it open further.

Ally got even redder. “Yeah.” Her gaze grew distant again, and her voice became wistful as she continued. “I’ve told you about Annie, right? My first girlfriend?” Claire nodded, although Ally didn’t appear to notice. “She was a dancer, and she loved music. Cooking, cleaning, reading, there was always something on. The first time we made love

I knew we were going to, and I really wanted to, but I was so nervous. I thought I was going to pass out at any moment. She was my first lover, you know. But she was so patient, and so gentle. She had these lava lamps everywhere, and she played this music, the whole CD, actually, and danced for me

and with me

and then we just

” She was silent for several moments. “And it was perfect. Nothing had ever been that perfect before. And nothing’s been that perfect since. Until the first time Evelynne and I made love. We were in this grotto

” Her voice faded, and the mingled joy and desolation in her expression broke Claire’s heart. “I miss that. I miss being

” She suddenly seemed to realise that she actually had an audience, and blushed deeply.

“You haven’t

you know

since

?” Claire asked hesitantly.

Ally shook her head. “No. She wants to, I know, but I can’t. I get scared sometimes that she’s going to give up and not want to wait for me any more. And if she goes

“

“She’ll never do that,” Claire said firmly. As much as the thought of Ally being available appealed to her attraction to the other woman, the idea of Ally and Evelynne no longer together far outweighed it. “She’ll wait for you. Forever, if she has to.”

“Forever? Forever is a very long time,” Ally said. Then, as Claire watched, her face shut down and the light went out of her eyes, and Claire could practically hear the heavy barriers falling back into place. Ally abruptly put down her book and stood. “The rain’s letting up. I’m going for a walk.” She was out the front door a moment later.

Evelynne leaned against the wall in the hallway, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had finished her “training session” with Mrs. Chen a few minutes before and had been on her way to find Ally and Claire and see if they could be coaxed into a quiet game of cards. She had made it as far as the hallway outside the living room when she had heard their voices in conversation and stopped. Ally had been so closed and withdrawn recently that Evelynne was unwilling to interrupt when she seemed to be opening up a little. She had felt vaguely guilty about listening in to a private conversation, but couldn’t help herself. She had been thrilled when Ally had actually laughed, and was incredibly grateful to Claire for helping.

Now, after hearing Ally’s confession, she simply stood and tried to control the sick feeling in her stomach as she cried. She managed to remain unheard until the front door closed behind Ally, then wiped her face and walked into the living room.

Claire started slightly as she appeared, looking up quickly. “Oh, Evelynne, hi,” she said, looking a little guilty and flustered. “You just missed Ally. She, uh, went for a walk.”

“Yeah, I know,” Evelynne said, still standing. “I heard.”

“You heard? Oh!”

“Yes.” Evelynne was still for a moment, and then her face collapsed as she tried to control a sob.

In an instant Claire was before her, carefully wrapping her in a soothing embrace, murmuring nonsense words as she tried to console the stricken woman. Somehow they found themselves on the couch, Evelynne’s head buried in Claire’s shoulder as she slowly got herself under control.

Finally Evelynne surfaced and sat back, wiping her face in an embarrassed manner. Claire reached into her pocket and brought forth a handkerchief, which was gratefully accepted. “Thanks,” Evelynne said hoarsely, clearing her throat.

“No problem,” Claire replied. “I’m sorry you heard that. Well, not sorry, really, but

” She trailed off awkwardly.

“That’s all right,” Evelynne assured her. “I’m not upset about that.”

“Oh. You’re not jealous about Ally talking about

that?”

Evelynne shook her head. “No, I’m not. All right, well, maybe a little jealous that she was with Annie before she was with me. But that’s natural, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Claire agreed. “I know that if I was with Ally and she was” She broke off abruptly and Evelynne saw her unique blush. “Uh, but I’m not. With her. And I don’t think”

“Claire, it’s all right. I know what you mean.” Evelynne chuckled. “I think everyone feels a bit jealous about their significant other’s previous significant others.” She wiped her face again. “No, if anything I’m still grateful that Ally’s relationship with Annie was so good. The way she talked about their first time

How could I be resentful of that?”

“Yeah. Everyone’s first time should be that special. It usually isn’t, but it should be.” Claire’s voice was sad and resigned.

“Oh? Yours wasn’t

Never mind, that’s none of my business.” Talking about sex with Claire felt rather surreal. Well, I did have some very explicit discussions about sex with Jean back in Horton City. Without her I never would have thought of trying

Anyway. Evelynne blushed. Still, this is different.

“No, it’s okay. It wasn’t great. You know how I was in the foster care system for just about my whole life?”

“Yes. Oh!” Evelynne’s eyes widened. “You mean one of your foster parents

“

“What? No! No. I mean, that sort of thing does happen, but I actually had pretty decent caretakers most of the time. None of them ever tried anything. No, it was one of the other kids. Of course, the kids aren’t supposed to sleep together either, but it happens. I slept with two boys when I was in care. The first one

Jason

I’d convinced myself that I was in love with him. We were both, oh, fifteen, I guess. He was just as lonely as I was, and I guess we mistook the attention we spent on each other for love. Anyway, eventually we slept together, and it was

okay, I guess. We did a few more times, but then he was finally adopted by a family in Alabama. I tried to tell myself I was devastated about him leaving, but I wasn’t really. A couple of years after that there was another boy who set his sights on me. Later I found out he got in trouble because he’d got about three other girls pregnant. I was lucky, I guess. I wasn’t enthusiastic with him, but he didn’t force me or anything.”

“I see.” Evelynne could tell that this was something that Claire had been wanting to reveal for a long time. Ally was much the same; there were certain subjects she was too shy and reticent to usually discuss, but when the dam finally broke it meant she really wanted the listener to know what she thought. “But you’re attracted to women, right? Have you ever

?”

“Uh, yeah.” Claire flushed again, and this time her face twisted in bitterness. “Once I turned eighteen and was out of the system I managed to get a grant and go to college. Corey came with me; he’d been with me in my last home. Anyway, at college I finally realised what the attraction I was feeling towards various women was. Finally I managed to get myself to go to a lesbian bar in Philadelphia. I met this older woman there, and she seemed to find me attractive. I didn’t sleep with her right away, but I went back a few times, and eventually convinced myself I was in love again. One weekend I let her take me home, and

And it was good. A whole lot better than Jason and Eric, that’s for sure. But it was still kind of hollow, you know?” Claire laughed harshly. “The next weekend I went back to the bar and saw her chatting up this blind woman. In the end I found out that her strategy was to ‘conquer’ all the ‘freaks’ that went to the bar, in between fucking every ‘normal’ female she could get her hands on. She actually laughed at me when I asked her whether we were actually together in any way.” Claire’s gaze returned to the present, and she smiled crookedly. “Since then I’ve had trust issues. I really don’t know why,” She finished sarcastically.

Evelynne grasped Claire’s hand in sympathy. “I’m sorry. But somewhere I know there’s someone who will recognise you for the wonderful woman you are. Trust me, you’re too special to let go.”

Claire swallowed and looked down. “Thanks. Special, huh? You’re special yourself.” She chuckled. “Understatement. But still, you and Ally are just so good together.” She squeezed the hand in hers. “You’ll work this out.”

“Thank you. It was just when she was talking about our first time

She was right, it was perfect. Even after, when we had to sneak around, it was still perfect. Or almost. I almost lost her at one point. Then I

What’s that disgusting phrase? Oh yes, I got my head out of my ass” Claire laughed outright at the expression coming from the Crown Princess of Atlantl. “and asked her to marry me. And after that

Wow. I just want to get that back again.” Evelynne’s eyes teared up again.

Claire drew her back into her embrace. “You will. Trust me. I’m psychic. I know these things.”

Chapter 20

“Alleandre, please come in,” the stout brunette said, holding out her hand. “Welcome. I’m Doctor Willa Young. It’s good to meet you.”

“Thanks,” Ally replied warily, though she accepted the other woman’s hand. The doctor seemed friendly enough, but Ally still extended her mind slightly, brushing the surface of the woman’s thoughts. There was intense curiosity there, but it was overshadowed by professional concern, and Ally relaxed slightly. She glanced around the room as Dr. Young showed her inside. “Nice office,” she ventured.

“Thank you. My partner did the paintings.”

“Really? I like that one with the trees. It reminds me of home.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her,” Dr. Young said. “Please, have a seat wherever you’re comfortable.” She sat down in a comfortable leather armchair, while Ally lowered herself more gingerly onto a couch opposite. “May I say first off that I’m honoured to meet you. I followed your activities in Atlantis quite closely.”

Ally shifted uncomfortably. “You and half the world,” she muttered, then winced at how bitter she sounded. “Sorry.”

“That’s quite all right. I just thought I’d mention it right off the bat. However, you needn’t worry about it. In this room, you are simply Alleandre, and I am just your therapist.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that,” Ally said. “I’ve been to a therapist before.”

“Yes? When was this?”

“Part-way through grade six. There was an incident that really

” She shrugged.

“Ah. Well, as you probably know, since I am your new therapist, you have a clean slate with me. You are free to speak to me about anything you wish. I promise you that it will not leave this room.”

“Yeah. I just don’t know how much

You might not have had

” Ally trailed off uncertainly.

“A client exactly like you? Of course not. Every one of my clients is unique. However, I believe you are referring to the fact that you are, to use the popular phrase, a telepath.” Dr. Young looked at Ally calmly as her client stared back in shock.

“What, was there a news announcement that I haven’t seen?” Ally asked in exasperation. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know?”

The doctor smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, there have been no newspaper articles. Although I think I did actually see an article in the Enquirer that said you had used an alien mind-control drug to convince Princess Evelynne to marry you.”

Ally chuckled. “I saw that one, actually.” She shook her head bemusedly.

“No, I know about you because Mrs. Chen told me. I’ve worked with her in the past. Although the last time, I actually sent a client to her. My brother, as a matter of fact. He’d been diagnosed as schizophrenic because of the voices he was hearing. However, somehow Mrs. Chen found out and came to me. It turned out he’s a mind-reader, and couldn’t control the thoughts that were turning up in his head. So that was my introduction into the realm of true parapsychology.”

“Really? Cool.” Ally was impressed. “Still, I don’t think you’ve ever met anyone quite like me.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, rather than boasting. “Yeah, I’m a mind-reader, but I’m also a telesentient and” She reached out a hand towards the doctor’s desk and focussed her will. “a psychokinetic.” A moment later a thick black fountain pen leapt from Dr. Young’s desk to Ally’s hand.

Dr. Young jumped at the unexpected movement. “Oh my goodness,” she murmured, her voice shaken for the first time. “Now that I wasn’t expecting.” She leaned forward eagerly. “So how do you go about doing that? Is it a matter of controlling the” She broke off suddenly. “Sorry. This is supposed to be about you, not my interests.” She settled back into her chair. “Now, I’ve only heard the vaguest details from Mrs. Chen, so why don’t you talk to me?” She affected a fake Austrian accent. “So, tell me about your mother.”

“Damn it, I thought this area was contained!” Royal Atlantlan Customs Agent Gerome Halliwell gasped as he ran, feeling every ounce of the anti-ballistic gear he was wearing.

“It was,” Sergeant Oliver Marchant huffed back as he pounded alongside. “This guy was outside the area.”

Halliwell didn’t respond, choosing to save his breath for running as they raced after their fugitive. The raid on the incoming ship and the dock area had been near-perfect so far, and neither of them was willing to let even one suspect get away. Members of the RCMP and Vancouver Police had already secured the ship and most of its crew, but the man they were chasing had been away from the ship for some reason, and had bolted as soon as he saw the police. That was not innocent behaviour in the eyes of either man.

Marchant cast a glance at his new partner as he ran. The Customs Agent was on temporary loan from the Atlantlan Customs Service, part of an exchange program between the Canadian and Atlantlan governments. With Atlantl’s centuries of experience policing their ports and waterways, their agents were in constant demand from administrations wishing to improve their own security and anti-smuggling techniques. So far Halliwell had been a boon to the Vancouver police, and while his ideas were rarely revolutionary, they were certainly effective.

Of course, even the most effective plan, complete with high-grade intel from an anonymous source, was vulnerable to Murphy’s Law, although if only a single suspect evaded the police Murphy was certainly taking a vacation. However, both Halliwell and Marchant were determined to make this operation as textbook as possible. The police back at the ship were in control of that situation, and were also sending a team to try to cut in front of the fugitive, but until then the two of them were on their own.

“Damn it, where did he go?” Halliwell asked, peering ahead between the huge shipping containers on the dock. The sky was gloomy and overcast, but thankfully the rain had held off. The thought of running while carrying an extra ten pounds of wet clothing in addition to the thirty pounds of protective gear was beyond awful.

“He turned left,” Marchant said, jogging more slowly now, his gun held at low ready. The suspect had not displayed a weapon, but running into even a knife while in the confines of this maze of containers was not high on Marchant’s list of priorities. With his back against the metal container, he nodded at Halliwell, who was also standing with his weapon at the ready. He waited a moment, then snuck a glance around the corner, jerking his head back abruptly as a sudden crack was accompanied by the unmistakeable whine of a ricochet bullet. “Shit,” he swore. Keying his radio, he called the command centre. “Base, this is Charlie Tango Three. The suspect is armed. I say again, the suspect is armed.”

“Understood, Charlie Tango Three. Where are you?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Marchant snarled without keying the mike. “It’s a fucking maze in here.” Into the radio he reported, “I’m not sure, Base. We kind of got turned around. Can the helicopter get a fix on us?”

“Negative, Charlie Tango Three. It’s too crowded.”

Marchant swore again, but understood. With the stacked cargo containers reaching heights of up to ten metres, and no more than three metres between them at most, a helicopter wouldn’t see anything unless they were directly above. “Understood, Base. Tell the perimeter team to head for that big crane with the ‘3’ on it, and I’ll try to” He stopped at a sudden bang that echoed around the corner in the direction of the fugitive, as though something heavy had been thrown against the side of a container. Ignoring the queries coming from his radio, he looked at Halliwell, who shrugged in ignorance. Another heavy thud echoed through the steel canyons and pushed Marchant’s curiosity over the edge. Dropping to one knee, he peeked around the corner and gaped.

The fugitive, an unremarkable young man indistinguishable from the thousands of other workers on the docks, was just getting to his feet after apparently being thrown by another figure which was quite remarkable indeed. Dressed all in black and grey, culminating with a long dark cloak and a deep hood over its head, the figure looked a little like Death. If He had taken gymnastics. As Marchant watched, the young man jumped to his feet, his shakiness not preventing him from firing two shots from the gun still in his hand. By all rights the shots should have connected, but the dark figure jumped with an odd whirling and spinning motion that didn’t seem like it completely obeyed the laws of spacetime, and the bullets went wide. The man only had time for those two shots, and then his target surged forward. The cloak whirled again, and then there was a thud of impact that sent the fugitive flying back at least a dozen feet, where he made an abortive attempt to rise again and then lay still.

“Jesus and Saint DeMolay,” Marchant heard Halliwell breathe. “It’s here?”

The words seemed to catch the attention of the cloaked figure, which turned to face them. Marchant had the briefest impression of a strip of pale, smooth face under the hood, and then the being crouched and leapt straight up thirty feet to the top of the containers and disappeared.

Still, staring up, Marchant moved slowly out into the aisle. “That was the Lady in the Shadows.” He hadn’t realised he’d spoken until he heard himself, and knew instantly that it was true.

“The Lady in the Shadows?” Halliwell asked incredulously. “You know her?”

Marchant shook his head. “Not really. I’ve never actually seen her before. But we’ve been getting tips from her for a while now, and somehow I know that’s her. One of the cops in my unit called her The Lady in the Shadows’ once as a joke, and it’s stuck.” He looked quizzically at the other agent. “You said she was here. What did you mean?”

“I was involved in that massive drug seizure we had in Atlantl last year,” Halliwell explained.

“Yeah, I remember hearing about that.”

“Anyway, on one of the raids some scumbag managed to ambush me and clipped me in the leg.” He patted the limb absently. “I went down and would have been dead, except that this crate suddenly fell over onto the guy. I was never quite sure if I imagined it, but I thought I saw this shadow moving away out of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t just me, either. A few other people also got ‘lucky’ during those raids. We all took to calling our guardian ‘the Angel’.”

“The Angel, huh? Well, if she is the same one, she’s doing more than just providing ‘luck’ now.” He knelt down next to the fugitive they had unexpectedly captured, who was now groaning feebly. “Let’s get this guy back.” He took out his handcuffs.

“Sure. Uh

What are we going to say about

?” Halliwell jerked his head upwards in the direction of the now-departed Lady in the Shadows.

“Say? Obviously our suspect here tripped while fleeing and ran into a wall. We caught up and had to struggle a bit before we subdued him.” Hauling the groggy suspect to his feet, Marchant looked at Halliwell, who was looking back questioningly. “What? You think anyone’s going to believe us otherwise?”

Claire looked up from the newspaper she was reading as she heard Ally call from the direction of the front door. Hello? Anyone home?

Back here, Claire called back. On the back porch.

Ally appeared a moment later, peering around the empty back yard. Hi, she said simply. You here alone?

Claire nodded. Yeah, just enjoying some more of this lovely liquid sunshine. She grinned briefly, waving a hand towards the overcast sky. Taking a closer look at Ally, she noticed her friend’s haggard look as she sat down on the bench.

Before she could comment on it, Ally asked, So where are Evelynne and Mrs. Chen? Upstairs?

Distracted, Claire replied, No, they walked down to the store. Mrs. Chen needs some more squid for supper tonight.

Startled, Ally started to rise. Evelynne’s with her? Is that safe? Are they going

Claire grabbed Ally’s arm to restrain her, slightly alarmed at the tension running through Ally’s frame. Ally! They’re okay. It’s fine. Evelynne’s unrecognisable, and they both know not to take chances. Besides, I’m, uh, keeping track of them. You know. She pointed to her eyes and then into the distance. I figured it would be good practice to try tracking a moving target.

Oh. Okay. Ally relaxed slowly, and Claire removed her hand with some reluctance. Ally abruptly started. Oh shit! I was supposed to be helping you practice this afternoon, wasn’t I? She turned distressed grey eyes on her friend. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot. I’m sorry.

Ally, it’s okay, really.

No, I should have remembered. I promised to help you out, and it just completely slipped my mind. Really, I should have



Concerned over how badly Ally seemed to be taking the subject, Claire wrapped a comforting arm around her. Ally, you just forgot, that’ll all. You had a lot on your mind today. I forgive you.

Ally relaxed slightly at that. Thank you, she murmured, rubbing her eyes wearily. It’s just been a weird day.

I can understand that, Claire said soothingly. So how did your session go? You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.

It went okay, I guess. I left it feeling like I’d been caught in a stampede of cats. That’s a good sign, right?

Claire chuckled. That’s kind of like how I remember my therapy sessions when I was in foster care. They’re not cuddly little kitten cats, are they? They’re big, nasty alley tomcats.

That sounds about right, Ally said, managing a small smile. Sighing wearily, she leaned back and closed her eyes, allowing her head to rest on Claire’s shoulder, to its owner’s surprise. So, can you really see them?

Claire nodded, a little disconcerted. Yeah. They’re just turning onto Commercial Drive. She looked into space for a moment. They’re heading for that little Chinese store.

Are you still having problems with that double vision thing?

More like triple vision. I can see Evelynne and Mrs. Chen, but for some reason I’m also picking up the playground down the street and

I think it’s someone’s kitchen. Claire tapped her head with the knuckles of her free hand. Still some fine-tuning to do, I think, she said wryly.

Oh, you’ll get it, Ally assured her. I’m still impressed at how easily you can do it. It’s always a trial for me.

Mmm. So, what were you doing this afternoon? Claire asked. She frowned as she felt the shoulders under her arm tense.

Ally sighed. My session with Dr. Young brought up a lot of stuff. I went out to just kind of burn off some energy. There was this police raid going on at the docks, so I went to

help out a little.

Claire blinked. She had heard, through Evelynne, of Ally’s superheroic activities, but this was the first time she had heard Ally talk about them herself. It was still wildly surreal to imagine her friend as some kind of Dark Avenger type. Well, did everything turn out okay? Was anyone hurt?

Not seriously, Ally murmured, her voice low. I twisted my back a little, but I’m okay. She was silent for a long moment. I was seen.

Claire started in surprise. Seen? How badly?

Ally chuckled mirthlessly. I feel like I’m in The Borrowers. Have you ever read that book? Anyway, I don’t know. There were two cops, and I know they must have seen something.

Oh. Do you think they’ll do anything?

I don’t know. Ally looked up into Claire’s face. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to have to move again so soon.

Ally, it’s okay. Wherever you go, I’ll go. And Evelynne too. Neither of us is leaving you. Claire paused. Maybe this is a dumb question, but have you thought of maybe talking to those cops? Seeing what they know, whether they’ll talk to anyone else? It’s just that if you are going to keep doing this Batman routine maybe having some friends in the police is a good thing.

I’ve though of it, and I don’t know. Now if this were Atlantl it would be different. I have contacts in high places. Ally smirked. First I want to see if anything weird shows up on the news. Then I can go from there. She looked up at Claire again. Thank you, she said simply.

Claire smiled back warmly. You’re welcome. Her eyes went unfocussed for a moment, and then she shook her head violently. Evelynne and Mrs. Chen are on their way back. Why don’t you go have a bath and relax your back, and I’ll start making up some hot chocolate for when they get here? Ally nodded and stood, stretching her shoulders as she did so. And Ally? Ally looked down into penetrating bicoloured eyes. Everything will work out. I promise.

Colonel Nixon growled in frustration as the telephone on her desk rang. It wasn’t the call in itself that annoyed her; the cause was the small Isis medallion that was resting peacefully on her desk. Despite the fact that she had been concentrating on it intensely for the past half hour, it remained unassuming andespeciallyinanimate. The Colonel had taken to practicing her psychokinetic muscles at least once per day after Sergeant Gyrus’ unexpected revelation, without success. The entire team had, in fact, but Gyrus was still the only one of them who could shift anything mentally, and even his success rate was less than stellar. At one point it had appeared as though Corporal Halan il-Pesek had suddenly developed a much more controlled ability, but the ease with which he had moved coins across the table had been revealed to be a heretofore hidden talent for legerdemain, and an even more hidden sense of humour. Colonel Nixon wasn’t sure whether it was the parlour trick or the humour that had shocked the rest of the team more.

Despite the lack of concrete results, Sergeant Gyrus continued to work with tremendous dedication both to improve his own ability and teach it to the others. Colonel Nixon had created a rank of AdeptusMinor, based on a remembered conversation with the late General Danun of the Guard, and promoted Gyrus to the position. It wasn’t an official designationit couldn’t be, given its highly secret naturebut it gave Gyrus effective authority over the rest of the team when it came to psychogenic phenomena. Despite some hesitation, Gyrus seemed to be taking his new command well.

The phone rang again, and with a sigh the Colonel grabbed the handset and punched the button to accept the call. Nixon.

Dicky, how are you doing?

Nixon smiled and sat back as she recognised the voice. Ci’nas, good to hear from you. How’s the Customs business these days?

You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Or maybe you would. Do you know how many places there are for people to smuggle things on their own bodies?

Nixon grimaced and laughed. I probably do know, although I’d rather not.

A nice wish, Ci’nas said, his voice light. Then his tone got serious. Listen, I’m calling to give you some information. Although I don’t know exactly how accurate it is.

Nixon sat forward with interest. What do you have?

Well, I know you’ve been wanting me to keep my ears open for more, ah, unexplained sightings, shall we say? Well, I have another possibility.

What? Here in Atlantl?

No, not here. One of my agents is in Vancouver



Chapter 21



and so I’ll see you again next week. Evelynne looked up as the door to the doctor’s office opened and the psychiatrist ushered out a nervous-looking bald man. And remember, Will, keep away from those strip bars. The doctor wagged a scolding finger at him, although her smile robbed the admonition of any heat.

The man blushed and scratched his stubbly cheek in embarassment. Thanks, Doc. Blurt that out in the middle of your waiting room, why don’t ya? Next week, then. Later, Irene. He waved to the receptionist, who waved back.

Once he was gone, the doctor turned to her secretary and quirked an eyebrow.

Ms. Doherty is next, the woman said, handing over a file.

The doctor looked quizzically at Evelynne, and her double take as she realised just who she was looking at was very well concealed. Thanks, Irene. Ms. Doherty, if you’d like to come in.

Thank you, Evelynne said. She smiled at the receptionist and allowed the doctor to wave her into the office. Once there she looked around, taking in the room’s soft, muted d?cor. Several comfortable chairs and a long couch provided places to sit, and a number of attractive but unassuming paintings hung on the walls. Over the large desk near one wall, a framed diploma affirmed that Doctor Wilhelmina Young was indeed a graduate of York University.

After closing the door firmly behind her, Dr. Young turned to her latest client. Hello, ah, Your Highness, she said awkwardly. Ah, should I curtsey or something?

Evelynne smiled and shook her head. No. And please, call me Sophia.

Of course. Waving Evelynne to a seat, Dr. Young sat down across from her. If you’d like, please call me Willa. So you prefer Sophia?

Not really. I’ve just been using it for a while now, and it’s less well-known than my

other name.

I understand. You’re not the only one of my clients to use a different name in this office. I mean no offence, but in your case it is probably even more appropriate. Although I must say your current appearance is quite different from how you used to look. Evelynne’s hand automatically went to her spiky platinum blonde hair. In this room we can simply be Willa and Sophia, without any, ah, other issues interfering.Assuming you don’t mind, that is.

Not at all. And other issues’ have not been a direct concern for some time.

I understand. Opening the file she was holding, Dr. Young glanced at it briefly. I asked you to come in primarily so that we could discuss Alleandre’s case, but you should know that I am also available for you personally if you feel the need. Anything you tell me stays between us, unless you specifically instruct me otherwise. Likewise, Ally’s sessions are between her and myself, unless she tells me otherwise.

Of course, Evelynne said, but she winced. There had been a time when Ally would have told her anything, and she felt the now-familiar hurt and sorrow that it was no longer the case.

Having said that, Ally has asked me to share almost everything with you. Now Evelynne was surprised. I should tell you that she desperately wants to tell you herself, but her current condition makes it almost impossible. I’ll get to that in a moment. First, though, I’d like you to tell me as much as you can about what happened in Pennsylvania, and what you think made her this way.

Ally hasn’t told you herself?

Oh, she has, but I’d really like to get another viewpoint on the incident. Her own thoughts are coloured by her perceptions, and I’d like at least one other witness.

Oh. All right. Evelynne took a deep breath and was silent for a moment. Well, I was working in this bar



After almost an hour, she finished. Her voice was hoarse despite the water that Dr. Young had provided, due to talking and the several bouts of crying she had experienced. Wiping her eyes with a tissue, she concluded. And since then she’s been so

so

I don’t know. Distant. Cold. Like she isn’t even really there.

Dr. Young smiled at her reassuringly and passed her another tissue. I understand. And it’s true. Ally isn’t there, in quite a real sense. She is currently in the depths of a very severe depression, one with a number of additional complications.

I know she’s depressed, Evelynne said. And I’ve tried everything I can think of to cheer her up. We all have. But she doesn’t respond to anything I do.

I know you’ve tried, Dr. Young agreed. But unfortunately you’re operating under several misconceptions. Don’t blame yourself. Few people truly understand.

First, you are underestimating the severity of Alleandre’s depression. Most people use depressed’ frequently. I didn’t get the promotion and I’m so depressed.’ I have to pay for a new transmission and I’m depressed about it.’ She smiled wryly. Even, The characters in my favourite TV show are breaking up and it’s so depressing.’ They equate depression with unhappiness, disappointment. Now in a purely semantic sense they’re right, but in a psychiatric or medical sense they’re only scratching the surface. Real depression is a mental disorder, as potentially severe and destructive in its own way as schizophrenia or other psychoses, based on neurochemical imbalances in the brain.

You mean it’s like a disease?

Precisely. Neurochemical levels change, and secondary symptoms can resemble other real’ illnesses. Changes in sleeping patterns and eating habits, asocial tendencies, and general disinterest are common tendencies.

Well, Ally’s been sleeping a lot. And she hasn’t been eating as much as she used to.

I know. Of course, the opposite is also possible. Sleeplessness and overeating are common. People eating when they’re depressed is so common that we tend to ignore it. There are a lot of symptoms, any of which on its own is not necessarily cause for concern. So people tend to dismiss the individual signs until the condition is quite severe.

Oh. Evelynne was quiet for some time. So, how did Ally get like this? I know what hit her was terrible, but she’s always been so

so aware of herself. She always seems to be aware of what her own mind is doing. She definitely must be intelligent enough to realise what’s happening.

Dr. Young shook her head. Intelligence has little to do with it. One effect of severe depression is an aversion to personal introspection. Regardless of how intelligent a person is, thinking about why one is depressed brings up all the negative emotions related to it, so the avoidance mechanism is natural and inevitable. Instead the sufferer can throw herself into activities that offer both immediate pleasure and little in the way of introspection: food, sleep, sex, games, escapist reading. In Ally’s case I believe she has certain other ways she’s been spending her time.

Evelynne’s face brightened in understanding. Her, ah, extracurricular activities. She’s been going out a lot lately.

Exactly. While those particular activities are unique to Ally’s case, they do fit the pattern.

But I don’t understand. Why is she like this now? I know that what happened was terrible, but I’ve been trying to help her since then. Why doesn’t she let me help? Evelynne pleaded.

Dr. Young sighed. I admit it is a very complex case. In addition to the depression, I believe there are other anomalies that are directly related to her special qualities. As for exactly how she got as bad as she is

 She paused for a moment, considering. I don’t think you truly understand what a blow to her psyche the incident in Pennsylvania was. Again, you’re not to blame. It’s taken over three weeks of almost daily sessions for me to come to any kind of understanding, and I’m a professional. She leaned forward. Simply put, I don’t think you could design a more destructive series of events for her mind and emotions. I’ve tried, and while I can think of a few that are more physically traumatising, I don’t think any could cause more mental damage. Frankly, I’m amazed she’s survived this long, and I think you and your friends are the only reason she has.

Evelynne gasped, and a bolt of fear shot through her at the doctor’s serious tone. You mean she might

 She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

It’s possible. I know she’s been tempted on a few occasions. However, she’s resisted both through your actions and her own sense of self, and I think as long as she has both she will continue to do so.

Well I’m not going anywhere, Evelynne said firmly. And neither are Claire or Mrs. Chen.

Good. She’ll need all of you.

We’ll be there. Always. Evelynne tried to control her racing heart rate. So, why was this so destructive? I just can’t see it.

I believe it all comes down to the nature of the attack itself. And it was an attack; never think it wasn’t. One of the cores of Ally’s being is control. Not control of other people, or of her environment, or events around her, but control over herself. Over her own mind, her own abilities. In fact, those abilities are probably the source of her desire for control. She has confessed a fear over exactly how her talents are developing and how much control she will have over them in the future.

She’s said that to me also. It’s why she’s always practicing and testing herself.

Exactly. And until now, she’s always had ultimate command over her abilities and her own mind. Not perfect, any more than any of our skills are perfect, but any mistakes she’s made have been just that: mistakes. She has used them to learn and increase her skill. However, in that bar, she was given an external substance, a drug, that completely stripped away her control. She was utterly unable to control herself. Now, if the memories of that event had been suppressed, as they would have been with someone with a more conventional mental structure, the results, while unpleasant, would have been much less destructive. However, her mnemonic abilities are not conventional.

Her eidetic memory, Evelynne breathed. She remembered the whole event.

Yes. And, if she had remembered like you or I remember, the effect would also have been less. We remember things at a remove, forgetting many of the details, and using imagination and speculation to fill them in later. However, she did not remember as we do. When she remembered, she was thrust into the memory. She was a disembodied mind behind her own eyes, seeing everything she saw before, andfeeling and knowing everything she had been thinking while under the drug’s influence. In a normal person there are mental safeguards that would have buffered the experience: denial, avoidance, repression. All of these were stripped away for Ally. She was forced to watch and feel while her own body and mind acted in ways that she would never have while sober. Ways that her conscience and higher thinking would have vetoed. She had to participate in an act that was morally repellent to her, with absolutely no control, even when, panicking, she tried to stop herself, an attempt destined to fail, since it was only a memory. In a sense, what happened to her was rape, but with a key difference: she was unable to fight back. In some rape cases, the victim, while still unfairly blaming herself, eventually realises that she did fight back. Perhaps not successfully, but she can eventually accept that it was not something she accepted or chose. With Ally, however, there was no fighting back. While under the influence, she wanted to have sex with that woman, and she is having enormous difficulty realising that it was something she did not rationally choose. She knows, for a fact, that she wanted to, and she did. Her previous lack of experience with loss of control means that she cannot fully comprehend losing that control. She still thinks she should have been able to resist what happened.

Now if, for example, it had been you that she had engaged with sexually, she would likely be better than she is right now. Fear of lack of control is part of what is fuelling her depression. I believe the other major component is guilt. She is someone who holds sex to be a near-sacred act. And, to extend the metaphor, you are her goddess. She is utterly devoted to you, and until this happened, the idea of cheating on you was unthinkable. Dr. Young started to say something else, and then paused. Making a decision, she continued, Oh, she’s told me about your mutual ongoing appreciation of other women, which is quite healthy and normal, but I know it’s never been a serious matter. However, this time she did cheat on you, with absolutely no remorse or hesitation at the time. Which means that after the fact, that guilt and self-hatred is returning a hundred-fold. Dr. Young paused and looked with compassion at Evelynne, who was sitting rigidly and breathing shallowly, a stricken expression on her face. And she doesn’t think you’ve forgiven her.

What?! Of course I have! She has to know that. I know it was the drug that made her do what she did. I

I believe you when you say that you have. However, have you ever told her that you forgive her? I can tell you that Ally knows you’ve never said the words. I think you’ve probably said things like, It wasn’t your fault,’ but I don’t believe you’ve ever said, I forgive you.’ And there is a difference.

But there’s nothing to forgive! Whatever happened, it wasn’t her fault. I don’t blame her for it!

The doctor shook her head. I don’t think you understand. Harsh as it may sound, it doesn’t matter what you think. What’s important is what Ally perceives. And she feels that she has sinned against you. Until you forgive her, truly and honestly, so that she believes you, she will never forgive herself. By telling her that it’s not her fault, you are effectively dismissing her concerns and her pain. You are telling her subconscious that they are irrelevant; that they don’t matter to you. Now I know that is not how you feel, Dr. Young continued, forestalling Evelynne’s protest, but that is how she perceives it. Maybe not consciously, but the unconscious pain is continuing to fuel her guilt and depression.

Oh, Evelynne said in a very small voice, looking down at her hands. When she looked up her eyes were wet. I messed up, didn’t I?

Yes, agreed Dr. Young, but she smiled reassuringly. But I know you did not intend to. And you can begin to fix things. How much I don’t know. Ally has told me about the link you two share, and also of your own abilities as a telepath. Can I ask why you haven’t, ah, touched minds with her since that night?

What? I did just afterwards when she was in the hospital. She was stuck in that memory, and I tried talking to her to help her out. Evelynne shivered at the memory. Sheshe kicked me out of her mind. There was so much pain, and anger, and fear, and she

It was like sticking my arm into a blender. And it hurt her, too. She kept yelling for me to get out of her head. And since then I haven’t wanted to hurt her like that again.

And I suspect you were also afraid of hurting yourself again. No, I’m not blaming you. It’s understandable, especially after that blender analogy. However, one of the things Ally prized most about your relationship before was the way she always knew you loved her, how all she ever had to do was reach out slightly and she could feel you there. When you closed your mind to her, you also closed off that link. And that tells her that you no longer truly love her.

But I do! I love her so much it hurts. She’s a part of my soul!

Yes, but again, it doesn’t matter what you think. What matters is what she believes.

Oh. Evelynne was silent for several more minutes, tears running down her cheeks. Finally she looked up. So what do I do? How do I make herusbetter?

I have several ideas. The first is obviously to show her that you still love her. However, be careful! Her mental state is very fragile, and anything too sudden or intense could shake her severely. I’d recommendextreme caution about reconnecting with her psychically. I suspect that what happenedthe drug, her memory, your psychic link, and her depressionhas combined to cause some actual psychic or neural damage. And frankly I have only the slightest idea of how to proceed in that case. Psychogenic surgery really isn’t taught in med school. If it was just depression I could probably treat it successfully with therapy and drugs. However, given her unique mental and neural physiology, I’m afraid drugs might do more harm than good.

So what do you suggest? I’m willing to do anything. And I mean anything.

Nothing quite so extreme as what you might be considering. While Western psychiatric science is only barely able to scratch the surface of problems related to talents like Ally’s, there are other options. I happen to know a man who lives in the interior who specialises in some more unconventional therapies. He’s Native Canadian, and he has had some success in merging modern psychiatric practices with traditional Native ones. My brother went to him when he had issues relating to his own talents. Dr. Young smiled at Evelynne’s jerk of surprise. Ally didn’t tell you? My brother’s also a mind-reader. In any case, Dr. Crow produced excellent results in my brother’s case, and I have a feeling that wasn’t the only unconventional treatment he’s tried.

Evelynne wiped her eyes firmly. All right, she said. When can we meet him?

The sky was clear when Oliver Marchant cautiously stepped out onto the roof, closing the access door behind him. Somewhere else the stars would have been visible, but here in the heart of the city the lights of a million people’s worth of civilisation drowned them out, leaving only the brightest to show through.

The Western Trade Building that he was standing on was one of the tallest in Vancouver, and convincing its management to allow him access to the roof had not been easy. Fortunately his police credentials had finally sufficed to grant him passage. Given how much trouble he had experienced, he wasn’t sure how his contact was going to get through, but then he didn’t know whether she would bother with the stairs in the first place.

Receiving the phone call that had led to this meeting had come as a shock. The call had come in on his personal line in the department, and the highly distorted voice had called him by name and given terse instructions for the time and place for this rendezvous. Somehow he had instinctively known who was speaking, and wondering how she had acquired knowledge of his phone number had occupied many hours. It bespoke of either impressive intelligence sources in the police itself, or other, more esoteric sources. Marchant wasn’t sure which option bothered him more.

The caller had specified no other company and no surveillance, but Marchant had been a cop too long to completely repress his instincts, which was why a small but sensitive voice recorder was hidden in an inside pocket. He didn’t quite know what he would do with the recording once he had it, but having proof of this meeting would give at least himself peace of mind.

Walking out onto the roof, gravel crunching under his feet, Marchant tapped his watch. The backlit display showed that it was still a few minutes midnight, so he was still a little early. Looking around, he wondered how this contact would arrive. The door he had arrived through had locked automatically behind him, blocking that access, but he had no idea if doors were necessary to beings capable of leaping over thirty feet straight up in a single jump. He walked over to the brick railing around the edge of the roof and peered down, wondering if there was any easy way up the side of the building.

Looking for something?

Marchant almost jumped over the edge of the roof.

Stumbling back, he whipped around to see a dark cloaked and hooded figure crouched like a gargoyle not more than two metres away on the ledge. Despite the deep hood completely concealing its features, he was almost certain he could detect a hint of amusement in its bearing.

Jesus Christ! he half-shouted. What the fuck? Briefly he wondered how the being had crossed the gravel on the roof without a sound betraying its presence.

The figure ignored his exclamation. You came alone? it asked.

Its voice was odd, distorted, and Marchant recognised the effects of a voice mask, easily available at any good spy store. The knowledge gave him a chance to regain his equilibrium; anything that used something as mundane as a voice mask could not be completely supernatural.

Yeah. Marchant saw the intense gaze being directed at him, even from under the hood, and shivered briefly. That’s what you said.

And we are not being watched?

Marchant thought momentarily of the recorder in his pocket. No, nobody’s watching.

The figure stared at him for another disconcertingly long moment, and he shifted uncomfortably despite his years of experience. Very well, it intoned finally. You are Sergeant Oliver Marchant.

Marchant nodded. Yeah. And you are

?

Who should I be?

He hesitated. Well, around the department we call you the Lady in the Shadows. Assuming you’re who I think you are.

The Lady in the Shadows, the being mused, speculation in its distorted voice. A fair enough name. Somewhat dramatic, though, don’t you think?

Well, considering

 Marchant gestured at the figure and its bearing.

The Lady in the Shadows looked down at herself and chuckled, the eerie voice sending shivers down Marchant’s spine. You have a point. She shifted slightly on the ledge.

The thought of that drop made Marchant’s feet itch. Do you mind if we move back a bit?

Why? Are you afraid of heights?

Up this high? Aren’t you?

Oddly, no. Standing unconcernedly on the ledge, the Lady in the Shadows easily hopped down onto the rooftop. In the brief flare of her cloak, Marchant could confirm that she was in fact female, her slim body apparent in the almost form-fitting outfit she wore underneath. She was tall, too, he realised, topping his own five-foot, ten-inch frame by at least a couple of inches.

So. You realise there’s a fair amount of speculation about you, he said finally. He briefly thought he saw the Lady in the Shadows tense under the cloak, but couldn’t be sure.

Oh? she said simply.

Yeah. Of course, nobody’s ever seen you. To most of us you’re just a voice on a phone, if that. You’ve sent a lot of business our way. She remained silent. That was you, right? The drug shipment three weeks ago? You called it in, right? And then you showed up during it.

Yes.

Mm. And then up until about two years ago or so. You gave us a lot of information then, too.

Yes.

Marchant nodded. You made some money off it, didn’t you? All those rewards from Crimestoppers. I checked, and I think you made somewhere on the order of twenty or thirty grand.

The shoulders under the cloak shrugged. I am not an altruist, Sergeant Marchant. I had expenses then.

Somehow, that reassured Marchant. Altruists tended to be fanatics, and the last thing he wanted was a vigilante of some kind on his hands. I understand that. Vocal masks don’t come cheap, do they?

Touch?.

Marchant nodded again. I’ve done some digging. I think I can trace you back about six years until you left two years ago. I wondered about that, wondering what keeps someone in a city for four years, with oddly timed lulls for four months each summer. And then I realised. Four years is a university degree. You were going to university at the time, and then graduated. It narrows it down. Some thirty thousand people graduated from colleges and universities in this area that year. About half of them were women. I now know your approximate height and build. I’m sure I could narrow it down again to a few thousand. If I really wanted to I could check into their tuition and bank records and try to match them up with the rewards given by Crimestoppers during that time. I would need a court order, but there are ways. I’m fairly sure that I could find out exactly who you are if I wanted to. Now Marchant could feel the tension practically thrumming through the figure before him, even under the cloak. I could, but I won’t.

The tension did not dissipate. Why not?

Because it would likely cause far more problems than it would solve. To the best of my knowledge, you have broken no major laws. For the most part you have simply provided information to the police and let us do our job. On the few occasions I’ve been able to identify when you have acted more directly, you have shown remarkable restraint, given what I can guess of your abilities. You have always been very careful to avoid damage to civilian bystanders. Simply put, you have been discreet. If you were truly taking the law into your own hands I would be the first to hunt you down.

There was silence for several long moments. I appreciate that, the Lady in the Shadows said finally. I admit to being somewhat surprised.

Listen, Marchant said, if you were a more conventional informant, the police and the Crown Prosecutor’s office would be offering you immunity or witness protection in exchange for the information you’ve provided. I am simply choosing to do away with the red tape, shall we say. Every detective on the force has unofficial informants. Most of whom are not nearly as clean as you are. Yes, I will hold you to a higher standard, given your power. But so far you have met that standard.

I can live with that, the Lady in the Shadows murmured. She paused. So what do you think about my power? You seem remarkably accepting.

Marchant shook his head. I have seen things on the streets that would probably make even your head turn. I’ve seen a drug addict on a bad high put no less than five policemen in hospital. I’ve seen a desperate mother reach into a burning car and pull out her kid, without even a soot mark. I have seen a father track his kidnapped daughter across two provincial boundaries without a single physical clue to her whereabouts. I’ve seen a blind witness identify her assailant by the sound his jeans made when he walked and the smell of his breath. Compared to that, someone who dodges bullets and can jump thirty feet is practically mundane.

Mundane, the Lady in the Shadows mused. It’s been a while since I’ve felt that way.

I’m treating you as I would any other informant with a gun, or lots of money or street power. As long as you give me no reason otherwise, I will only hope that we can help each other.

The Lady in the Shadows sighed, and visibly relaxed almost wearily, and Marchant noted the very human reaction. Whatever her appearance, or the demeanour she strove to project, she was obviously just as human as anyone else. On the one hand, it allowed him to gauge her responses normally, but on the other, that much power in human hands was potentially very dangerous.

I will help as I can. I will be

away for a while, however. Marchant quirked a questioning eyebrow at her. I have some personal business to attend to.

Perry White needs you to hand in your story, does he?

There was the impression of a smile from the hood. Something like that. I will not be around for at least several weeks.

Okay. No cop’s informants are a hundred per cent reliable. Even the superhero ones.

The Lady in the Shadows cocked her head as though listening to something. Ah, but I am mundane, remember?

With a final nod, she crouched, leapt into the air

and kept going.

Marchant gaped at the sky, and the dark shadow that was quickly lost from view. Jesus Christ. And I called her mundane



Much later, when he thought to check, he wasn’t completely surprised to find that his recorder had stopped recording after less than a minute.

Chapter 22

Evelynne jumped slightly as a particular rattle of the train jerked her back to wakefulness. She had been dozing fitfully, unable to get really comfortable in the otherwise quite pleasant seat. The train was one of the more luxurious modes of transportation into the British Columbian interior, although the truly first-class accommodations were out of reach at the moment. Evelynne had heard that the Canadian rail system, especially passenger service, was under threat of closing down permanently, which she felt would be a real tragedy.

Maybe once Ally and I get settled back into Atlantl we can come back out here for a visit. We can make a big deal about going on a train tour; maybe get some interest going again. People really need to see the countryside from here. The view out the window of the gorgeous autumn countryside, replete with hills, mountains, evergreens, and, of course, the obligatory maple trees, was absolutely stunning.

At the thought of her fianc?e, Evelynne glanced at the seat beside her, half expecting to see Ally asleep as well. Instead, the other woman was gazing out the window. Her stare wasn’t the blank or troubled expression that had become so common over the past few months, but just quietly thoughtful, simply enjoying the scenery. It was a gratifying relief from the tortured mien that had been so obvious recently, and Evelynne felt a part of herself relax.

A slight movement caught her eye, and she glanced downwards to see Ally absently twisting the ring on her finger as she leaned against the window. The sight of that ring, originally a birthday present several months ago, brought forth a confused emotion in Evelynne, a feeling that was equal parts joy and guilt.

Evelynne rummaged through the drawer, feeling a leaden weight on her chest. By now it was almost a familiar sensation. For some reason Ally had been even more sullen and withdrawn than usual during dinner. She had not been rude or mean, but some memory had obviously been plaguing her. Ally had managed to sit through the meal with manifest unwillingness, but had quickly disappeared into the night afterwards.

When Ally had vanished, Claire had done her best to comfort Evelynne, offering a hesitant hug that had been accepted with much less self-consciousness than had once been the case. Still, the warmth and genuine friendship of that embrace had been nearly painful in face of the memory of Ally’s absent closeness. With a sad smile of apology, which Claire had understood, Evelynne had retreated to a shower. She had hoped that the near-scalding water would thaw the cold at her core. It hadn’t.

Exiting the steam-filled bathroom, mentally holding close the hope that Dr. Young had sparkedthough the last couple of days had already worn that hope thinshe had entered the room she and Ally were nominally sharing, her towel-wrapped body instantly cold.

Looking through the drawer, she almost missed the small, plain brown envelope under the shirts and sweaters. It took her a moment to recognise it, and when she did, the air in her lungs left her in a huff.

Evelynne had been given the envelope weeks before, the very night that Ally had been admitted into the hospital. Per hospital regulations, all of Ally’s personal effects had been removed and passed on to Evelynne for safekeeping. The clothing was long gone, but in the stressful times following the event, Evelynne had completely forgotten about the other items.

Now, hands trembling, she picked up the envelope and poured the contents into her palm. A handful of American change and a couple of bills, a receipt, a button, and two smooth pieces of coloured glass; Ally could be a real magpie at times. And, most significantly, two pieces of jewellery: a silver-and-amethyst ring and an intricate dragon pendant on a silver chain. The ring had officially been a birthday gift, but both Evelynne and Ally had known that it was really an engagement ring, a material symbol of their connection. The dragon had been given the same day, a gift from Claire. Ally hadn’t removed either from that day to the night in the hospital.

And then they had been effectively lost and forgotten.

Except by Ally, Evelynne knew instinctively. Ally had felt their absence strongly, and Evelynne also knew exactly how Ally had interpreted that continued absence. Ally had known or guessed that the ring and pendant had been given back to her fianc?e, and had concluded that the reason they had not been returned was that Evelynne considered her unworthy of them, of the trust they implied. It was illogical and irrational, but Ally had proven in the past weeks that her mental and emotional coherence were not as solid as they had been.

Evelynne didn’t know how long she sat staring at the ring and pendant in her palm, but she was jolted out of her reverie by the sound of steps downstairs. She recognised Ally’s voice apparently speaking with Claire and Mrs. Chen, and then held her breath. She heard nothing, and then the distinctive creak of a certain pair of stairs as Ally climbed them. A moment later the door opened and Ally cautiously peered inside. Her eyes widened slightly as she noticed Evelynne in nothing but a towel before they shuttered again.

“Uh, hi,” she said. She looked Evelynne up and down swiftly before averting her gaze. “I’ll just wait so you can

“

Ally turned to leave, but Evelynne suddenly found herself across the room, a hand on the other woman’s arm. “Wait!” she blurted. “Please, come in.” She winced internally at the tension in Ally’s frame. Still, Ally complied, allowing herself to be led to the bed, where Evelynne urged her to sit. Evelynne hesitated, uncertain of how to proceed. “I found something that I think you should have. It’s a bit late, but it’s yours.”

Ally inhaled sharply as she recognised the object in Evelynne’s hand, and held her breath as her fianc?e gently pried open her clenched hand. “I just found this, and I think you definitely need it back,” Evelynne said softly, looking up into Ally’s face for reaction, but the seated woman just stared, mesmerised, at the ring. Taking Ally’s silence as consent, Evelynne gently turned over Ally’s left hand and, after another look into her eyes, slid the ring home on the third finger.

There was an ever-so subtle shiver through Ally’s body, and an equally subtle release in tension. It would have been imperceptible to anyone not as hyper-aware of her partner’s reactions as Evelynne, but the minute but significant settling of Ally’s core was obvious. Evelynne was silent for several seconds, just holding Ally’s hand.

A moment later Ally looked up. Her face was still closed, still pained, but there was a hint of thaw that Evelynne took hope in, and an almost pathetic gratitude that wrenched Evelynne’s emotions. “Thank you,” Ally murmured, barely audibly.

Evelynne’s first reaction was to dismiss the thanksafter all, it was her own fault for all but losing the ring in the first placebut Dr. Young’s words brought her up short. Ally needed validation now, needed to be forgiven in her own eyes before healing could begin. If she were honestly thankful it would be cruel to dismiss that thanks.

“You’re welcome,” Evelynne replied simply.

In itself it had been a tiny gesture, but in reality it had been significant. Ally had not turned a corner or shown immense progress since then, but a certain degree of her brittleness had eased. She was still quiet, even more so than usual, and continued her nightly expeditions into the city; Evelynne and Claire had made a game of seeing which news reports they could tie to her actions. The change was more in bearing and expression, and even there it was so subtle as to be invisible to anyone who knew her less well than Evelynne did.

Or Claire, surprisingly. Evelynne hadn’t felt completely comfortable returning the pendant herself, and had given it to Claire the next day. She wasn’t sure exactly what had transpired between her fianc?e and her friend, but Ally had appeared later wearing it. Claire had seen Ally one evening idly rubbing the dragon pendant and had later commented to Evelynne, “She’s doing better.”

Encouraged, but with Dr. Young’s warnings still fresh, Evelynne had tried very cautiously to touch Ally’s mind several times over the past week, but the results were not encouraging. Whatever her change in demeanour, Ally’s psyche was as harsh as ever. Touching it directly was like running fingers over a wall made of razor-sharp ice: cold, painful, and impenetrable. It was that wall that had Evelynne as worried as ever; she had no idea what was going on behind that icy barrier.

Now looking at Ally, who continued to gaze out the window, Evelynne let the swaying and clacking of the train put her into a light trance, gently brushing Ally’s frozen mind with mental fingers, hoping that some part of her could feel it.

“Claire? Claire, we’re here.” The hand on her shoulder roused Claire from her misery, and she opened her eyes to see Evelynne looking down on her sympathetically. The other woman smiled. “We’re here, Claire. Do you want to get off?”

Even as a small part of her mind made a predictable comment, Claire nodded carefully but vehemently. “Good God, yes,” she muttered through clenched teeth, feeling her stomach lurch again. She tried to stand before realising that she was still clutching the paper bag. Even folded over, the sour smell coming from it was perceptible, and she felt her nausea rise again. Still disoriented, she sat for a moment, not quite able to figure out what to do next.

Evelynne solved her confusion by taking the bag with great aplomb with one hand and gently taking her elbow with the other. “Come on, let’s get you out of here and into some fresh air, all right?”

The thought of fresh air spurred Claire’s mind and body, and she lurched down the aisle of the bus, sheepishly meeting the stares that came her way from the other passengers. She was almost used to having people staring at her black and white face, but she could only imagine what her current black and green face looked like. She almost fell down the steps at the front, but fortunately Ally was waiting just outside the door to catch her and help her out with a small smile. Claire managed a sickly smile of thanks before standing up and taking several deep breaths of cold mountain air with her eyes closed, feeling her motion sickness recede.

The train ride had actually been quite bearable, the view and ability to walk around making up for any lingering queasiness, but getting on the bus in Golden had been another matter entirely. Buses were one of the banes of Claire’s existence, she reckoned. Somehow the natural swaying of the vehicle, coupled with her newly acquired hyper-awareness of her surroundings granted by her Talent, had served to make her sicker than she had been in a long time. Her mind knew it was moving, but her body only felt the sway and acceleration of the bus, while her Talent kept giving her brief flashes of completely stationary scenes, all of which battled with each other to see which could knock her down the farthest.

Ally’s unobtrusive hand was at her back, helping support her, and Claire drew strength from it as she did from the air. Finally feeling almost human again, she opened her eyes and nodded her thanks.

“Feeling better?” Ally asked.

“Yeah, thanks. Sorry I’m not such a great travelling companion.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ally said, squeezing Claire’s shoulder briefly. “Believe it or not, you’re still a better traveller than my Mom.”

Claire shuddered. “Yikes.” She looked around as Evelynne came down the steps bearing their lighter luggage while the driver pulled their packs out of the storage compartment. “So where are we going to be meeting the guy we need to meet?”

“My latest shrink, you mean,” Ally said lightly, the slightest tremor in her voice betraying her real emotions. “I’m not sure. He said he’d meet us at the bus stop.”

Looking around, Claire took in the sights of downtown Potowkin.,Too small to show up on any but the most detailed maps, the town wasn’t much more than a gas station, a few stores, and a small collection of largely run-down houses. Situated some distance south of Golden in the Kootenays, it reminded her of the ghost towns of Western movies, albeit transplanted into a mountainous setting, rather than a southern dustbowl. Despite the vaguely shabby air, though, there was no aura of despair, simply a feeling of a village that was far from big city life and happy to be so.

She didn’t have much time to sightsee, however, as a large red pick-up truck headed towards them down the road, pulling up beside them with a crunch of gravel. The truck was spectacularly decorated with exquisite paintings of native design. A snarling bear graced the door closest to them, which opened, letting out an elderly Native man, his white hair pulled back in a ponytail, who smiled as he saw them. On the other side of the truck the other door opened, disgorging a trio of much younger Native youths who laughed and pushed at each other until they saw the three women. One frankly leered at Evelynne, looking her up and down appreciatively, while the other two stared at Claire. She started to squirm uncomfortably until the older man cleared his throat loudly. The three youths looked away at him briefly, allowing Claire to instinctively shift slightly behind Ally, who was frowning. The older man said something in a language Claire didn’t understand, waving towards the general store with a disapproving expression. The young men laughed and turned in that direction, although not without a few backward glances. The older man sighed and shook his head, muttering something under his breath. Then he straightened and walked closer.

“Hello,” he said, holding out a hand, his accent obvious. “You must be Alleandre, Evelynne and Claire.”

“Uh, yeah,” Ally said, taking his hand. “I’m Ally. This is Evelynne, and Claire.”

“Good to meet you,” the man said, looking at all three women with a disconcertingly penetrating gaze. He didn’t let go of Ally’s hand, and transferred his gaze to her again. “I’m Joseph Black Crow.” He peered into Ally’s eyes. “Hmm. Wei told me about you, but I admit I thought she was exaggerating. I see she wasn’t.” He glanced again at Claire and Evelynne. “And three of you, too. That is pretty impressive.” He finally let go of Ally’s hand as she began to look uncomfortable. “Sorry I’m late,” he continued. “Billy and his friends just wouldn’t get going.” He jerked his head towards the three youths who were disappearing into the store.

“That’s okay,” Ally replied. “We just arrived, actually.”

“Good. Let’s get your things into the truck.” Black Crow paused. “Damn, I should have got Billy to help.” He shook his head. “My brain’s going these days.”

“That’s okay,” Ally repeated. “If you could just get the small stuff, I’ve got the big stuff.” Easily lifting the backpacks, two in one hand and one in the other, each of which probably weighed at least fifty pounds, she lightly tossed them into the back of the truck. Black Crow’s face remained impassive, but Claire could see his carefully concealed assessment, and also couldn’t help her own awe at the ease with which Ally used her abilities. It always thrilled her to see Ally lift the sofa with one hand to sweep under it, or casually pull a can of food from the top shelf of Mrs. Chen’s pantry using nothing but her mind. She wondered what other talents she hadn’t seen yet.

With their packs so swiftly loaded, they all clambered into the front of the truck at Black Crow’s invitation. It was a bit of a squeeze fitting themselves in, but ultimately Claire couldn’t say she minded being squished so tightly against Evelynne. Having a stranger on her other side was a bit more disconcerting, given that in the past most people actively avoided close contact, but Joseph Black Crow was a calming presence, almost grandfatherly.

Claire’s thoughts were interrupted when Ally leaned forward to ask, “So, how far are we going?” Claire echoed the question mentally.

“It’ll be about an hour and a half,” Black Crow replied. “See that mountain there with the big cliff face?” He pointed into the distance and they all nodded. “I have a house at one end of the reserve right near there. It’s not that far as the crow flies” He chuckled at his own pun. “but this old Crow needs to take all the old logging roads.”

Evelynne smiled. “This is a gorgeous area,” she said. “You must get a lot of tourists.”

Black Crow shrugged. “Some. Most go to the bigger ski hills down south. We get the really serious cross-country skiers and hikers, not the yuppies. Should be getting some pretty soon if this weather keeps up and the snow gets here.”

“Really,” said Evelynne with interest. “I’ll have to see about finding a pair of skis that fit me. We’re a little, ah, obsessed with it where I come from.”

“Oh? I heard that,” Black Crow commented, displaying no signs that he knew Evelynne was of a much higher social station than she currently appeared. “I used to ski way back. I was on the University ski team. That was something back then. Having an Injun on the team? Got a lot of people huffing.” He chuckled gruffly at the thought of all those noses out of joint, and Claire grinned in equal enjoyment. “Don’t do it now, though.” He patted one leg. “Won’t hold me up any more. I have my fun scaring the tourists on my toboggan.”

Claire and Evelynne laughed at that, and even Ally smiled slightly. Then Evelynne asked a question about local powder conditions, and she and Black Crow quickly lost the other two in a fog of arcane snow-related terminology.

Despite the beautiful terrain, Claire still found herself being jerked out of a light doze when the truck stopped. She had been lulled by the warmth of the cab, especially Evelynne’s body beside her, and the lingering exhaustion of the unpleasant bus trip. Looking around, trying to dispel the fuzziness of her thoughts, she saw that they had pulled up in the middle of a large clearing in the woods, next to a house that was, frankly, nearly as far from what she had been expecting as possible. While Claire knew that Black Crow was, in fact, a fully trained medical psychiatrist, somehow she had still been vaguely expecting a small house along the lines of the small shacks she had seen on documentaries of Native reserves.

Either way, it certainly hadn’t been this huge log house that looked like it belonged on some five-star ski hill frequented by movie stars and musicians. The exterior was made of whole yellowing logs, complete with a wide wraparound porch and tall, Eastward-pointing windows. It was at least two storeys tall, with a stone chimney, smoke curling contentedly upward. It was probably the most gorgeous house Claire had ever seen.

A low chuckle broke her daze and she saw that the rest of the passengers had debarked. Black Crow was standing by the driver’s door, his impish smile making her realise that she had been staring, and she blushed.

“What, you thought I lived in a tepee?” Black Crow asked with gentle humour.

Claire blushed even more as she got out, avoiding his eyes. Actually, yes.

Outside, she saw that Ally and Evelynne were also surveying the scenery, the shorter woman pointing out something in the distance and murmuring. Evelynne was lightly holding Ally’s hand, and while Ally wasn’t actively encouraging the contact, at least she wasn’t pulling away as Claire had seen her do on several occasions in the past. Those had been before Ally had started wearing her ring and pendant again, and, whatever else, the return of those items seemed to have given the other woman a small degree of peace.

“We’ll get your things later,” Black Crow said, leading them towards the steps up to the porch. “I’ll show you around the place first.”

“This is a very beautiful home,” Evelynne said, echoing Claire’s earlier thoughts. She didn’t seem quite as impressed as Claire was, but then the other woman was royalty, and had probably grown up in homes that made this one look like a squatter’s shack. Still, the appreciation in her voice sounded genuine.

“The resort pays for it,” Black Crow admitted. “Only the most dedicated skiers and hikers come here, and they want to pay big bucks for it. I also stashed away a lot from my working days. I run on solar power and a hydroelectric generator a guest built a while back.” He waved towards a path through the woods. “It’s just a big wheel stuck in the river over there that powers a turbine. Costs me peanuts to keep running.”

Black Crow opened the door and ushered them into the blissful warmth inside. Claire hadn’t even realised she’d begun to shiver until heat from the blazing fireplace hit her and she sighed in pleasure.

The ground floor of the house, which it was far too large to be called a cabin, was essentially one big room, with a fireplace in the centre and the living areas arranged around it. One corner was a kitchen, fully stocked with what looked like the latest in culinary appliances, and was bordered by a dining area, complete with a full-length table large enough to seat a small hockey team. The rest of the room was a sitting area, partially cut off from the other half by the stairs that led up almost directly above the fireplace, nearly bisecting the room.

Seated in one of the chairs near the fire was a tiny Native woman; the wrinkles on her face and hands clearly showed her advanced age, but the speed with which she was stitching together two pieces of leather showed that she was definitely not an invalid. She looked up as the door opened and grinned toothlessly at them. Putting down her handiwork, she grabbed a wooden cane by her chair, levered herself to her feet, and tottered towards them, loudly exclaiming something in a language Claire couldn’t understand.

Black Crow replied in the same language, and at the same volume, making Claire realise that hearing loss was one of the old woman’s infirmities, although from the intelligent gleam in her eyes, it was likely one of the only ones. Black Crow said something else, gesturing at the three younger women, then switched to English. “This is my mother, Mekohah.” He raised his voice again. “Mother, this is Alleandre, Evelynne, and Claire. They will be guests in my house.”

Mekohah smiled in satisfaction and nodded, shuffling closer and peering up at them. She first took Ally’s hands and gazed up into her eyes. Her smile faltered briefly, and then strengthened, although now there was a sad, sympathetic quality to it. She said something to Ally while the taller woman half-smiled back awkwardly, then turned and addressed her son again. It sounded like an order, and Black Crow’s translation confirmed it.

“I must take very good care of you,” he said. “You are in need of great healing.”

Ally nodded and shrugged uncomfortably, while Mekohah patted her hand reassuringly before moving on to the next woman. Evelynne smiled more genuinely as the old woman took her hands, easily bringing herself to the tiny woman’s level despite the difference in their heights. It was something Claire had seen Evelynne do before, although never before had it been so striking. Without ever bending or crouching, which would have made both of them feel uncomfortable and unnatural, Evelynne somehow shifted her entire bearing so that, while still taller, she was suddenly the other person’s equal in stature. It was an impressive talent, never failing to put the other person at ease, and Claire didn’t know if it was a natural gift, or something that Evelynne had learned over the years. Whatever the case, Mekohah obviously recognised the effects of the technique, smiling in approval. She spoke at some length, gesturing occasionally at Ally, while Evelynne listened as though she could understand every word being spoken. She continued to look at the diminutive woman while Black Crow translated.

“She says it’s good you love each other so much. You are both blessed by the spirits. Your love will help mend the rift between you.”

Next it was Claire’s turn, and she stood a little nervously as Mekohah took her hands in the now-familiar ritual. The older woman appeared fascinated by the patterns on her skin, running a finger over the lines where dark and light met on Claire’s hand with a touch that was curious, yet inoffensive, murmuring as she did so.

“She says you are greatly blessed by the spirits that they have placed the divination patterns on you. Some of my people believe that destiny can be read through the patterns of clouds, flowers, and other things,” Black Crow explained. “She believes that you are truly touched as the spirits have placed your destiny on your very skin itself. It is a very auspicious day that has brought no less than three shamans into my lodge.”

Mekohah looked up into Claire’s bicoloured eyes again and frowned, puzzled. She looked at Evelynne and Ally again and threw a question over her shoulder at her son. Black Crow’s face remained impassive, but he shook his head and answered in a negative tone. Mekohah was clearly displeased with his response, if her tone was any indication, and she gestured between the three young women more vehemently. Her son repeated his denial, this time with a bit more force and body language, while the three women in question looked on, puzzled. Obviously still in disagreement, Mekohah nevertheless acquiesced this time, maintaining a grasp on Claire’s hand and patting it gently.

Confused, Claire looked at Black Crow, who shrugged. “My mother says that you’re hers now. Ally and Evelynne are my responsibility, but you need her to look after you. You need

” He struggled for a word. “Compassion. Empathy. Looking out for.”

“Oh,” was all Claire could say, although she sensed there was more to it than that.

Chapter 23

“Guard! Atteeen-shun!”

Colonel Nixon was out of her chair and saluting before she really knew what she was doing, her body acting on a completely instinctive level to the voice and tone of command of the person who had entered her office. That voice had been the next best thing to God for her for years, and even now it bypassed her conscious mind, wrapped itself around her spinal cord, and jerked her upright.

Of course, then her higher functions, a second or two behind her lizard brain, took over once again, and she wagged a finger admonishingly at the man in her doorway. “Don’t do that, Sir,” she scolded. “It’s really not fair.”

Lieutenant-General Sir Arthur Ramirez chuckled softly and eased his bulk through her doorway, and Colonel Nixon looked at him with an appraising eye. He had definitely lost weight in the past few months, but was still as solid a man as one would find in something not carved from stone. “You were so intent I almost didn’t want to disturb you, Dicky,” he commented, leaning across her desk to shake her hand. “But I couldn’t resist.”

“Well, next time, Sir, I wish you would. Resist, I mean.” She waved her guest into a chair, briefly wondering if it would support him.

“We’ll see,” Sir Arthur said mildly. The chair creaked and groaned alarmingly, but it was a testament to its manufacturer that it held together, and the Colonel made a mental note to see about ordering some more for the building.

“I didn’t realise you were back, Sir,” Colonel Nixon said, seating herself, and noting that her own chair didn’t even begin to strain under her weight. “The last I heard, the grapevine put you in Morocco.”

“Algeria, actually. We managed to trace one of the arms shipments from the Invasion to a rebel terrorist group. We think they were supplied by either the CIA or whatever Russian intelligence is calling itselfthis week, but we can’t tell which. Not that it really matters, because at this point all we care about is how they got onto Atlantlan soil. I was in the region doing some

interviews of field agents.”

Colonel Nixon nodded. With his own empathic and precognitive abilities, meagre as they were compared to Lady Alleandre or Princess Evelynne, Sir Arthur was the Guard’s premiere interrogator in seeking the source of the attack on their country. So he had been rushed off his feet, trying to make himself available to everyone at once, both at home and abroad, as a near-infallible lie detector.

“I’ve been reading your reports whenever I can, Sir. I also did that full background check on Yolinski like you asked. That order definitely came from his office, but I haven’t found anything to indicate he knew what was actually in the shipment. He seemed pretty shaken up when I told him he’d helped ship a bomb to the Ungerwilt Fire Station, and I believe him. I think he was just a tool.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Sir Arthur said heavily. “Finding who actually shipped the bombs has been easy. Extremely easy. All the shipments were absolutely legitimate, after all. But as soon as we try to find out who actually gave the order we run into a black hole.” He sighed. “The paperwork from Ru’en Base Logistics definitely traces back to Central Logistics. But there’s no trace of that paperwork everoriginating at Central on their side. Someone, somehow, managed to drop it directly into the pipeline. From where, we don’t know, because as far as we can tell, nobody we’ve investigated has done anything wrong.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, we’ve found a little corruption, a few ‘favours’ asked and answered, a couple of greased palms, but nothing beyond what happens in any bureaucracy. We’re looking for a smoking gun, and so far all we’ve found is the smoke.” He fixed Nixon with a stare. “You know what this means.”

“Yes, Sir.” The Colonel nodded. “Whoever did it is very highly placed. I’d say the King’s or Queen’s Advisory Councils would not be out of the question.”

“Mmm. And while I’ve been given Royal Carte Blanche in the investigation, we all know that the slate is never completely blank.” Sir Arthur sighed again and rubbed his eyes. “Of course, the simple solution is either the King or Queen themselves are behind it. Or both.” He looked up at Colonel Nixon’s gasp. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not suggesting anything treasonous. Or maybe I am, but it was the Queen who actually suggested it the last time I met with her.” Huffing out a breath, Sir Arthur made a gesture as if throwing something away, then leaned back in his precarious chair. “What about you?” he asked, changing the subject. “You whipping this scruffy lot of hoodlums into shape? Is it true you actually found a psychokinetic?”

“They’re getting there, Sir,” the Colonel replied. “They’ve been thrown in at the deep end but they’re working hard. I suppose it helps in a way that they don’t have any actual Charges to protect at the moment. And yes, Gyrus does indeed have some talent. He’s only had about a fifteen per cent success rate with it so far, but it’s there. I think he’s half-praying, half-dreading to have Lady Alleandre back so that she can teach him a bit. Speaking of which

” She rifled through a stack of folders on her desk until she came to the one she wanted. “We’ve found two more ‘Angel Cults’.”

“Really?” Sir Arthur took the folder from her and flipped through a few pages. “You’re sure it’s her?”

“No, Sir, not positive. It’s just a fairly close match with what we’ve found here at home with Armston’s little support group. Although the one in Thailand is apparently much more of a cult. A number of villages near a really remote Taoist monastery are convinced that a new Immortal has arisen, although the monks themselves are very close-lipped. Something to do with saving a bunch of local girls from kidnapping by a prostitution ring. We think we can trace Lady Alleandre’s presence in the area, but we’re not positive. We know she was in Thailand around that time, but there aren’t a lot of paper trails in those remote districts.”

“It sounds like what she’d do,” Sir Arthur commented. “And the other?”

“Australia, Sir. A serial rapist named Gerald MacIsaac was captured by police about a year and a half ago after an anonymous tip led them to his shack. Of course. This was after he’d already been subdued, and the eight girls he’d kidnapped had found themselves mysteriously released from the basement. The families involved have begun their own support group and have offered a fifty thousand dollar reward towhomever was responsible. So far nobody has been able to back up their claim.”

“Prostitution rings. Serial rapists. I think I’m beginning to see a pattern here.”

“Yes, Sir. It certainly fits Lady Alleandre’s profile. We know she’s nearly obsessive about sexual conduct.”

“In the sense that she abhors inappropriate sexual conduct, yes.” Sir Arthur shook his head. “I’d hate to be around if something made her snap over that.”

Claire leaned over her knees, gasping for breath. Her chest was so tight it hurt, but she managed to look up accusingly at the man sitting calmly across from her, sipping from a glass of pungent tea. Finally bringing herself under control, she tried not to begin laughing again. “Oh, my God,” she rasped finally, “he actually did that?”

“Oh yes,” Black Crow replied, nodding solemnly. “During the ceremony itself. And of course we couldn’t say anything until he was finished. When he found out, though

“

“Oh, I can just imagine,” Claire said, still giggling. “I’m trying not to.” Finally bringing herself under a modicum of control, she reached for her own mug of tea, knowing she’d be asking for a scolding if she didn’t finish it.

The scolding would, of course, be delivered by a stern Mekohah, a look of almost comic disappointment on her face, but would quickly devolve into a bright-toothed grin. It had been a shock seeing that grin for the first time, the day after they had arrived, since Claire had clearly remembered a distinct lack of teeth in the old woman’s mouth the first time they had met. She had since learned that this was Mekohah’smodus operandi; the devious old woman’s penchant for practical jokes was on par with her mothering instinct, which was saying a lot. Always making sure that her charges were fully clothed, fed, and nurtured almost to the point of smothering, she also took enormous care that nobody should take themselves too seriously. “A Daughter of Coyote,” Black Crow had named her, referring to the common trickster motif in Native folklore. She also had a perfect understanding of English, despite appearances, although she refused to speak it. Unless, of course, she could get in a perfectly timed jab at someone’s inflated ego.

The diminutive, forceful woman had taken Claire under her wing, as promised, and despite the recipient’s initial trepidation. Claire had never known a mother growing up, only a series of vaguely distant foster parents, but she was now convinced that Mekohah was the only one she would have chosen. She was rapidly learning a range of domestic arts under the vigilant tutelage of the older woman, who was always ready with a scolding or praise in equal measure. She had prepared her first solo dinner a few nights before, even going so far as to serve it personally in the traditional Indian manner. Even before that, though, Claire had been drafted into cooking and baking a massive selection of sweets and snacks, and the constant urging by Mekohah to offer them to Ally and Evelynne at every opportunity. Black Crow had had a few sharp words in his own language with his mother because of it, but not even he could divert her when her mind was set on a path. Eventually he had capitulated, grumbling that she was interfering and finally explaining that Mekohah felt they were all “way too skinny” and needed fattening up to survive the winter.

It actually wasn’t such a bad suggestion, in Claire’s opinion. The temperature had dropped even more as winter settled in completely, and now a thick blanket of snow had settled on the entire mountainside. Evelynne especially, faring from the much more temperate climate of Atlantl, was feeling the cold much more keenly, although that did not stop her from going out whenever it was necessary, and that turned out to be quite often.

The reason for the frequent sojourns was Dr. Black Crow’s unorthodox style of therapy. Far from being a “couch and office” psychiatrist, the Native healer’s methods seemed to primarily consist of long walks through the forest with Ally, his primary patient, sometimes carrying more arcane objects like brightly woven blankets, animal pelts, bones, and herbs. Once he fully sensed the depths of Ally’s connection with Evelynne, he began splitting his time between the two of them, and recently had even taken Claire on a few hikes. That had actually led to a triumphant smile on Mekohah’s face for days, but Black Crow just scowled and muttered something about “interfering old Coyote’s Children” under his breath. Claire didn’t know what he was doing with her friends, but her “sessions” with him mostly consisted of long conversations about anything and everything under the sun. It was only after a couple of sessions that she had felt the faint hint of the touch of his mind on hers, and had finally realised that whatever they were doing on the surface was only a cover to an incredibly subtle psychic diagnosis and healing. He had realised she felt him the instant she did, but had just smiled and continued the conversation.

It had quickly become clear that this mind-to-mind contact was only going on during their “official” sessions, and that at any other time Black Crow was careful to keep his subtly powerful telepathic ability under strict control. Such as now, in the early morning, while they were simply sitting and chatting while they waited for Ally and Evelynne to come down.

“I still don’t believe it happened,” Claire said finally, after a long sip of her tea. “He would have had to kill you if it had.”

“Oh, he was certainly not my best friend after that. And when my relationship with Chen Wei finally came out he was probably the one most instrumental in turning the rest of the band against me.”

“Chen Wei? Who’s she? Were you

?” Suddenly Claire’s eyes bugged out. “Chen Wei? Wei Chen? Mrs. Chen? You were with Mrs. Chen?”

“Oh yes, didn’t I mention it? She and I were together for a short time when we were younger. Much younger.”

“Oh man, that is just soso weird.” Claire’s whole body shivered. “I can see you two together, though.”

“Oh, Mekohah always said we’d make her beautiful grandchildren. Wei was the only one who could keep up with Mother. Got her good a few times, too. This one time”

Black Crow was cut off abruptly when Ally almost flew down the stairs, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Slamming to a halt at the bottom of the stairs, she looked startled to see other people up and about, and Claire gasped to see the wild, frantic look in her eyes. She was dressed semi-haphazardly in a sweater and track pants, both of which were skewed, and her socks were mismatched. Before Claire or Black Crow could say anything, Ally rasped, “I’m sorry. I have toI’ve got toI’ve got to get out.” Her tone was harsh and fractured, and she was twitching like a bird beating its wings against the bars of a cage. “I’m sorry.” Then she was out the front door and into the cold before anyone could stop her.

“What” Claire began, looking at Black Crow in confusion, already heading towards the stairs to find Evelynne. She stopped when the object of her search appeared on the stairs, her face both confused and devastated. Evelynne looked so lost that Claire was moving and wrapping her in her arms before she could think. “Evy,” Claire began, her tone soft and gentle, “what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Evelynne replied, her own voice dull, and her body tense. “I don’tWe wereI don’t

” She trailed off.

Evelynne lay on the bed, trying to control her body, which was being torn in conflicting directions. In a purely physical plane, she really needed to go to the bathroom, but that desire was being firmly, yet absently, relegated to the background. Of much more emotional immediacy were the sensations created by the head resting on her chest.

Although they had shared a bed ever since the night of Ally’s attack, barring the other woman’s mysterious nightly sojourns, it had been just that: sharing. She and Evelynne could have been in completely different houses for all the emotional closeness, despite the mere inches that separated them. Ally actually recoiled whenever her bedmate got too close, and Evelynne had learned that doing so was a sure way to drive Ally out into the night.

Which made this morning all the more poignant, since Ally had spontaneously, and apparently unconsciously, shifted in her sleep to wrap her arms around her erstwhile lover and burrow into the warmth there. The sensations had been enough to rocket Evelynne out of her own dreams. Now she lay still, desperately trying to remain calm and relaxed, not wishing to disturb Ally’s slumber, but her attention was so focused that she was constantly fighting the urge to tense up. Realising that she had tensed, Evelynne consciously relaxed her muscles again, drawing a contented sound from the body wrapped around her, which snuggled in even closer.

And then Ally was awake. Evelynne could instantly feel the moment she woke, the body against hers turning from soft and pliable to tense and uncertain in a heartbeat. Ally remained frozen, fear and confusion rolling off her in waves, until Evelynne slowly and gently began to stroke her short-cut hair, and her head lifted slowly, almost against her will. Her eyes met Evelynne’s for a split second before darting away again.

“Hi,” Evelynne whispered, carefully controlling her reaction when her hand briefly touched an ear and Ally flinched.

Ally swallowed convulsively before she finally managed to speak, her whisper barely audible. “Hi.”

Evelynne smiled hesitantly, maintaining her gentle touches. Ever so slowly she drew Ally’s face closer, her body and soul begging for a return to the intimacy they had known. Unable and unwilling to stop herself, she drew her lover closer, a small part of her noting the increase in Ally’s breathing and the way her eyes darted about, as she brought their faces closer than they had been in months. Their lips were a whisper’s breadth apart when her hand dropped, curling around Ally’s side and brushing the strip of skin between t-shirt and pants.

Ally reacted.

With a convulsive spasm, she literally threw herself off the bed, falling to the floor with a light thump, and scrabbled backwards to press herself against the wall. Her eyes wide, Ally stared at the woman in the bed, breath coming in pants, before they blinked and refocused on the sweater and socks on the dresser. A mere hand gesture had them flying into her grasp, and Evelynne could only stare, still shocked by the swiftness of events as Ally dressed with more haste than accuracy.

It was only when Ally had her hand on the doorknob that Evelynne could react, jerking upright and reaching for the other woman, and inarticulate sound of protest in her throat. Ally paused at the sound and looked back, and Evelynne could almost see the icy barriers slamming into place behind her eyes. “I’m sorry,” Ally whispered hoarsely, and then she was out the door.

Evelynne shivered, burrowing closer into Claire’s embrace, and Claire could feel tears soaking into her shirt. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, although she didn’t really know why she was sorrowful. A range of things, actually, from a deep, genuine sorrow over the disintegration of her friends’ relationship, to a more specific sense of guilt that she had not been able to sense Ally’s predicament earlier on that night months ago. It was unfair to herself, she knew logically, but deep inside she wished she could have done more.

As though sensing her thoughts, Evelynne pulled back, face tear-streaked, to gently cup Claire’s face in her hand. “It’s not your fault,” she murmured, smiling sadly. “Any of it. I’m so glad you’re here with me.With us.” Her hand and gaze fell, and she wrapped her arms back around Claire’s torso. “I just want her back, you know? I want what we had before. We were so good. And now I just want her back.”

“You will,” Claire said softly. “We will. We will get her back.”

“Will we?” Evelynne asked into Claire’s chest. “Maybe we can help her get over this, give her some peace and healing again, but she’ll never be the same. She’s lost something, and she’ll never get it back. She’s lost her

her innocence. You should have seen her before. She was so innocent. Not naive, but she had such an appreciation for life. And I want that back. I want the Ally who was so terrified of meeting my father, but she trusted me anyway. The one who couldn’t quite believe that all these people wanted to be her friend.” A half-sob, half-laugh. “I want the Ally who always tried not to cry when all the toys were destroyed in that Robin Williams movie. But she’s not coming back.”

“I know. I wish I could have known that Ally longer. Maybe you could tell me about her sometime?”

“I will. I promise.” Evelynne sighed, the tears mostly gone from her voice, replaced by a tired sadness. “I just wish I could have realised what she was at the time and appreciated it more.”

“I think you appreciated it as much as you possibly could have. Just the way you talk tells me that. But with our help this will actually make her stronger. You know how she always talked about destruction being necessary for creation?”

“Ah yes, her famous ‘sword-making’ philosophy.” With a final sigh, Evelynne moved back, wiping her face, and Claire reluctantly let her go. “I’m just sad she’s changed. She’s like that, too.” Her smile turned wistful. “I remember the first time we made love. We were in this gorgeous grotto that nobody had been to before, and she told me she was sad that it would never again be ‘untouched’, but that she was happy she’d brought me there anyway, saying it was beautiful even so.” Evelynne flushed lightly and smiled sheepishly. “Of course, at the time I was ‘untouched’ also, but I know she wasn’t thinking about that. I think that was when I decided to make love with her. We’d never have gone anywhere if it had been up to her.”

“I can believe that,” Claire said, grinning and wondering why she didn’t feel more jealousy. “She really does turn to you for guidance, doesn’t she?”

“Oh, in more ways than one,” Evelynne said suggestively, earning a blush and giggle from her friend. It was obvious she was still in pain, but in typical fashion she was putting that aside to deal with the problem.

She started slightly when Black Crow appeared suddenly, having disappeared unnoticed earlier, with a large mug of tea. Evelynne smiled in thanks, taking a sip and visibly calming herself. “Mekohah says she’s tracking Ally right now. She’s not in any immediate danger, and Mother says she can likely intervene if Ally tries anything drastic.”

Evelynne tensed along with Claire before consciously relaxing again. When she opened her eyes, she looked at him squarely. “Something happened,” she said. “Something bad. I’m afraid that” She stuttered and drew herself together again. “I’m afraid that she’s getting worse. You didn’t see her upstairs. And her mind

her mind’s breaking. We can’t keep going slowly. We have to do something now.”

Black Crow sighed. “I know. I had hoped that we could heal her with less drastic methods, but I also have my suspicions about why we can’t. There is a ceremony that my people sometimes use in cases of extreme mental trauma. A kind of vision quest. I will begin preparations for tomorrow night. In the meantime it is up to you to convince her we can help.”

Chapter 24

Evelynne stood looking out the window over the snow, her mind’s eye on another plane, far from her physical surroundings. The snowy landscape glowed orange, reflecting the setting sun, and the scene was so beautiful she should have been enjoying it, but at the moment her thoughts were far from aesthetic values. Evelynne was so involved in her own introspection that Claire had to speak her name several times before she responded.

“Evelynne? Evelynne? Evy? Black Crow says you should come now.”

Slowly, distractedly, Evelynne turned, drawing back to the present. Claire was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, and behind her was Mekohah, the older woman’s face more solemn than usual, but still light and cheerful.

Shaking her head to clear it, Evelynne started towards the door. “Sorry. He said it’s time?”

Claire shrugged with false nonchalance. “I guess so. Of course, exactly what makes it the right time is something only he and his spirits know.”

Evelynne nodded with an equally false smile. She shifted her shoulders, feeling once again the softness of the deerskin robe she was wearing, its surface covered in embroidered animals, spirits, and symbols. It had been Mekohah’s project for the past two days, the old woman drafting Claire into helping with the decorating until both women’s hands were cramped and sore from the sewing and beadwork.

“And is A” Evelynne’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “Is Ally here?” she managed steadily.

“She’s here,” Claire replied. “She’s with him.”

Evelynne nodded again. Getting Ally to agree to this ceremony had actually been frighteningly easyat least, once she had reappeared. She had returned to the house almost four hours after she had bolted that morning two days previously, wet, exhausted, and shivering with cold. When Evelynne had seen her it had taken all her willpower not to yell at her partner, knowing that her anger stemmed from fear, and also instinctively knowing that any displays of anger on her part would shatter whatever strength Ally was using to hold herself together. Still, Ally had agreed meekly to Black Crow’s low-voiced recommendations, obviously beyond any thought of defiance or initiative.

The two days since had been long, and as she descended the stairs and looked out the window, Evelynne could see what those days had wrought.

Enlisting the aid of many of the members of the local band, Black Crow had constructed a tent-like structure of boughs and animal hides a short distance from his house. A small structure, less that three metres in diameter, it stood in the middle of the snowy clearing, the lack of fresh snow on it testimony to the heat it was generating.

A number of people were milling about, warmed by the large bonfire a short distance away. Some were already rapping on drums, their repetitious chanting creating a monotonous but highly meditative atmosphere, and Evelynne was struck by just how communal this form of therapy was. It made sense, she considered. Living in a small band, dependent on each and every member for survival, it made sense that the rest of the community would take part in any healing ceremony. It was almost a party atmosphere, with drinks and refreshments, none of them alcoholic, being served by the fires, away from the sacred space of the tent.

Next to the tent there was also a man-sized effigy, a black-haired manikin whose purpose Evelynne didn’t know, although she doubted that anything in the vicinity was there by chance or a whim.

And it was into that tent that Evelynne and Ally would enter, hopefully to emerge when the healing was complete. Ally was already nearby, apparently listening absently to Black Crow as Evelynne neared with her own minders, shivering as the cold and damp from the ground crept into her moccasins. The chill from the ground, though, was nothing compared to the emotional cold that swept through her at the sight of Ally’s face, tightly shuttered and more frozen than the snow on the trees. Nevertheless, Eveynne smiled encouragingly and was rewarded with a lifting of the corners of Ally’s lips, a bare hint of a grin that never even approached her eyes.

Mekohah slipped away as they approached, tugging Claire along to help fuss with some arcane objects near the tiny door to the tent. Evelynne stopped by Ally and Black Crow and looked at the older man questioningly. He had been very vague about the particulars of this ritual, and Evelynne wasn’t sure whether that was due to deliberate deception on his part, or simply that the detail of the event were somewhat irrelevant. She was beginning to suspect the latter, given the casual way in which the other members of the band appeared to be taking part, although of course there could have simply been an underlying pattern she could not recognise.

Black Crow nodded solemnly at her, spreading his hands in a gesture of invitation. His actions seemed to signal the rest of the group, and the milling people seemed to move with more structure, while the drumming and chanting became even more hypnotic. “Greetings, Life-of-Wisdom,” he said reverently, bowing to Evelynne. “Greetings, Epiphany, Defender-of-Mankind.” It took Evelynne a moment to realise that Black Crow had taken hers and Ally’s namesEvelynne Sophia and Alleandre Tiffanyand extracted the literal meanings of them, turning them into something more than simple appellations. He had spoken on the subject some days earlier, explaining that the spirits of the world responded only to the “True Names” of individuals, seeking the inner essence of their being, rather than the coarseness of their outer form. Claire had been renamed as well, and while her new descriptorSeerwas of considerably greater brevity, it was somehow elegant, not to mention incredibly apt.

Evelynne said nothing but bowed her head in greeting, uncertain of what to say, and after a brief hesitation Ally did as well. Apparently no verbal response was required, and Black Crow seemed satisfied with the response. “The spirits await you,” he said simply, turning and leading the way towards the tent. Evelynne shivered as she followed, partly from the cold, and partly from the drumming and chanting that seemed to thrum through her blood. At the tiny doorway to the tentit barely came up to her thighsshe blushed as Black Crow bade her remove the cloak around her shoulders, leaving her clad only in a thin cotton shift, and the freezing air cut her like a knife. She immediately began shivering in earnest, while Ally hesitated a moment longer before slowly removing her own garment. Claire smiled at both of them with some trepidation before following Mekohah’s direction and waving a burning smudge of sage over them both, bathing the two women in its smoke. Evelynne suppressed a cough, even as her body sought the meagre heat of the smoke, and she wondered just what sort of therapy freezing to death in the middle of a clearing was supposed to accomplish. On the other hand, people would probably drive themselves sane just so that they could warm up!

Then she crawled through the entrance and almost passed out from the heat inside. It was like an oven, heat radiating from a small bed of coals and rocks in the centre providing meagre light, and the blood that a moment before had been retreating from Evelynne’s epidermis reversed direction with shocking suddenness, and she could almost hear her own pores expanding in the heat as sweat rushed to the surface. A surreptitious nudge from behind reminded her that the others were still outside in the cold, and with great reluctance she crawled further inside, already wondering whether this was a good idea. Isn’t there an easier way to do this? she wondered. Like, say, a lobotomy? Instantly guilty of the thought, Evelynne watched as Ally crawled through the tiny entrance, a part of her silently begging that a bit of cold air would enter at the same time.

Ally paused at the entrance as Evelynne had, the heat obviously taking her by surprise as much as it had Evelynne, and her face rapidly suffused with redness, and a thin sheen of sweat broke out instantly. She recovered much more quickly than Evelynne had, however, and quickly crawled the rest of the way, while Evelynne looked at the flush with an odd nostalgia. I remember when she couldn’t go five minutes without blushing for some reason. Usually just someone looking at her. She hasn’t blushed in a long time. I miss that.

Schooling her face to passivity, Evelynne saw that Ally was settling down on one of the skins on the floor, legs crossed, and Evelynne slowly followed suit across from her, already feeling dull and lethargic in the dry heat. A moment later the tent shook again, as Black Crow forced his much larger form through the entranceway. He was carrying a gourd of water, and Evelynne eyed it longingly as he stopped just inside the entrance, although there wasn’t room in the tent for him to be anywhere else. Smiling at her, Black Crow held out the gourd, and Evelynne felt a little embarrassed at the speed with which she grabbed the water, feeling its coolness slide down her throat. Far too soon he was taking it away and offering the container to Ally, who took it with what looked to Evelynne as much more dignity. Still, even Ally appeared disappointed when it was taken away.

Then all rational thought of coolness disappeared as Black Crow lifted the remaining water, raised it towards the sky as an offering, and poured the remainder over the hot rocks. The instant blast of steam hit like a train, and Evelynne gasped in shock. Sweat, which a moment before had been evaporating instantly in the dry heat, providing a minute amount of relief, now clung to her body like a second skin, making the air seem even hotter. She was barely even aware of Black Crow speaking.

“The Spirits will guide you to where you need to go. Follow them and trust in them. And in each other.”

With that he was gone.

The burst of cold air as he exited was extremely welcome and all too brief, and then Evelynne and Ally were left alone in the sweltering heat. Evelynne’s cotton shift was already soaked through, clinging too her skin unpleasantly, and she hesitated only briefly before awkwardly wriggling her way out of it. Tossing it to the side, she looked up, naked, to see Ally watching her with wide eyes that quickly shuttered. Ally paused a bit longer, then much more slowly removed her own clothing before returning to a cross-legged position across the fire. She took deep breaths and closed her eyes, appearing to centre herself, appearing to throw off most of her discomfort, while Evelynne looked on in envy.

She’s always been able to calm herself so easily, Evelynne thought. Even when she’s falling apart inside, you’d never know it from her face, unless you know what you’re looking for. But recently even I haven’t been able to see what’s really under the surface. It’s like she’s completely shut herself down.

Outside, the tempo of the drumming picked up slightly, and the hypnotic, repetitive chanting seemed to gain slightly more force, as though nudging the occupants of the tent to remind them of what they were meant to be doing, and Ally’s eyes opened, catching Evelynne’s. They were cool grey, Evelynne noticed, the colour of the winter sky, and the coldest things in the tent. Why are you so cold? Evelynne asked plaintively inside her own mind. Why won’t you let me in and warm you up? Please Isis, Osiris, help me understand what’s happening to this woman I love. Right now I’d accept help from Set Himself if I thought it would help.

Her eyes still caught by the steely grey ones across from her, waves of heat distortion between them, Evelynne was helpless to look away as they grew and grew, seeming to take up her whole world

And suddenly Evelynne seemed to wake, startled, uncertain of how much time had passed. The all-encompassing greyness was still before her, taking up her whole vision, and she shivered in the frigid cold.Wait a minute. Cold?! Sitting upright abruptly, completely at a loss as to how she had got there, and looked around over the frozen landscape around her. She was sitting naked in the middle of an icy plain, the ground completely covered in snow and ice, and Evelynne shivered. How in the Duat did I get here? she asked herself. Wherever “here” is. The last thing I remember is

She frowned, concentrating. She remembered the sweat lodge, looking into Ally’s eyes, and then

here. I don’t think they moved me. Tickling the edges of her awareness was a vague sensation, and focusing on it Evelynne had a brief disconcerting moment where she was both boilingly hot and frigidly cold at the same time. She stumbled, fighting off the sensation. Isis, it’s like I’m still there. She paused. Maybe I still am. Maybe this is

somewhere else. But where?

Looking around more closely, Evelynne realised that the landscape wasn’t as featureless as she had first thought. While she was standing in the middle of an icy flat plain, off in one direction she could see what looked like two copses of trees, and beyond them a hill or small mountain rising in the distance. In the opposite direction there was another “forest”, stretching from horizon to horizon. It all looked disturbingly familiar, like an inkblot that was almost the exact replica of a recognisable object, and Evelynne wished briefly that she had an aerial photo. Instantly she once again had the disconcerting sensation of dual perceptions, both standing on the ice and looking down from high above. It lasted only a moment, but it was enough for her to recognise the “landscape”. Isis, it’s Ally! I’m standing on Ally! She looked down at the layer of snow on the ground. Frozen solid. Just

like

her.

Understanding came. This is a vision. I’m touching her mind, but everything’s symbolic. What was in that water? Realising that she was “standing” directly in the middle of Ally’s “forehead”, Evelynne looked around, amazed at the clarity of the vision. Its surreal qualities aside, there was no way she could tell it was all in her mind, every sense telling her she really was standing in the middle of a snow-covered field. Naked. Shivering violently, she longed for a coat to protect her from the chill, and was shocked when without warning she was bundled head to toe in a thick warm fur coat. The cold was instantly banished, but so, in some ineffable way, was the sense of immediacy of her surroundings, and it took her a moment to realise that the landscape was slowly fading, becoming less and less “real” by the second.

“Wait!” she cried out. “Don’t go! I just got here!”

The surroundings ignored her, and she could feel herself being pushed slowly but inexorably from the surface of Ally’s mind. As she was, the coat she was “wearing” seemed to become more and more real, and in a burst of insight she banished it from her mental body, shivering once again in the frozen emptiness. As she had hoped, in response the landscape inched back into focus, slowly and carefully, like a wary, wounded wild animal. Even as her phantasmal nerves were telling her that her feet were going numb, Evelynne nodded and looked around in sorrow. “If I want to get close to you I can’t put any barriers between us, can I?” she murmured into the wind. “You won’t really trust me until I’m as vulnerable as you are. It’s all right, love. I understand.” She didn’t know how much Ally was really “hearing”.

With new resolve in her mind, even as frost began to form on her extremities, and resolutely not thinking about how apparently physical damage in this realm might translate into real psychological damage when she left, Evelynne looked around again. So this is like the surface of Ally’s mind. The face that’s she’s showing the world. Cold. Frozen. A glance into the featureless grey sky. Alone. I wonder if this construct is mine or hers. She shook her head, dismissing the thought as irrelevant. If it’s mine, then I need to work through how I’m seeing her to the real Ally underneath, and if it’s hers I need to find out what’s really happening inside. Either way I need to get

in. She looked around helplessly. But how do I do that? There are no entrances. And somehow I don’t think crawling up her nose is the kind of symbolic entry I’m looking for. Aren’t vision quests supposed to involve spirit guides somehow? And didn’t Black Crow say to ask for help?

“Hello?” Evelynne called into the emptiness, feeling somewhat foolish. “Er

I don’t know exactly what I’m supposed to say here, but I need some help. Isis? Black Crow? Anyone?” While a casual follower of the Old Ennead religion, Evelynne had never really taken its spiritual precepts too seriously, so literally calling for help from spirits was outside her normal experience. However, whatever she was expecting, it certainly wasn’t what arrived.

In the direction that Evelynne had arbitrarily designated “south”the direction of Ally’s nose, and presumably the rest of her “body”a speck appeared, skimming above the ground. As it neared, Evelynne gaped as the indisputable form of a dragon neared, easily but determinedly sculling the air with its wings in a way that, strictly speaking, several tons of lizard shouldn’t be able.

Evelynne surprised herself by feeling no fear as the great creature came towards her, only a sensation of awe and, oddly, recognition. There was a certain duality to the dragon, as though its apparent form was merely a mask or semi-transparent mirror, through which she could almost see the reality behind. As it landed gently, gleaming silver on the snow, Evelynne recognised its outer form at last. “Isis,” she murmured. “You’re Ally’s pendant. Claire gave you to her.” She looked up at the great head. “You’re a little larger than I remember you.”

The dragon said nothing, but Evelynne somehow felt that it was amused. As it settled, tucking its feet under itself for all the world like a massive cat, Evelynne shivered again. She looked around again, hoping that somehow the arrival of the dragonher spirit guide, she assumedwould have changed things. It hadn’t, and the landscape was as frigid and forbidding as ever. Even though she was aware that this was all happening in her own mind, the unreasoning part of her brain was convinced she was standing naked in sub-freezing temperatures, and was efficiently reporting the sensations as such. It was so real that when she looked down she could see that her own ethereal feet were turning an unpleasant blue colour.

Looking at the huge dragon beside her beseechingly, Evelynne asked, “Can you tell me how to get inside? I need to help her.”

Somehow the dragon responded with a question, although there was absolutely nothing that could have been interpreted as speech. Instead, Evelynne simply understood the question, as though she was remembering what it had said.

“Because I love her. And I don’t want her to be in pain any more.”

Another question.

“Anything.”

The dragon looked at her questioningly, as though weighing her answers on some unseen scale. It didn’t reply, but eventually simply laid its head down before it. Its eyes flickered to the frozen ground under its chin briefly.

Evelynne waited for more of a response, but began to despair when it seemed none was forthcoming. “Please?” Still no reply, leaving Evelynne to watch the steam gently rising from where the dragon’s scales met the frost.

Steam…

Looking down to where her own numb skin was in contact with the ground, Evelynne saw that her own body was doing nothing to warm the ground. The opposite was true, in fact, and ice crystals were easily seen on her own skin. “I need to melt my way through, don’t I?” Evelynne whispered, looking into the dragon’s eyes. One was a brilliant silver that matched its scales, while the other was a rich gold. Those eyes gave away nothing but compassion as Evelynne nodded slowly to herself.

Easing herself down to the ground, wincing as the chill penetrated her body more deeply, Evelynne hesitated before lying down full length. She shivered violently, no longer caring whether the cold was all in her mind or not. Some part of her believed it was all too real, and that was more than enough in a realm like this. Aware of metallic eyes on her, she closed her own, feeling the cold seep into her core. If she thought about it, the fact that Ally felt the need to present this impenetrable mask to the world, and what might lie under it, would frighten her immensely.

As she lay there, Evelynne realised that her own body heat, ephemeral as it was, was completely inadequate to even begin melting through the ice, and knew she was missing something. Need to be warmer,she thought to herself, aware that her thoughts were coming slower and resolutely not thinking about what might happen if she “froze” to death in this place. Need warmth. Heat

Flame

Flame of passion

Passion

She frowned, although she could no longer feel her face. Love. With the last of her energy she wrapped herself in memories of her love for Ally.

Ally throwing herself between assassins’ bullets and Evelynne’s body, willing to die for a complete stranger.

The easy friendship that developed in the hospital afterwards, when a paralysed Ally had to accept help from someone she hardly knew.

Teaching Ally to play Vei’Chel at the Summer Palace as they convalesced.

Recognising her own attraction to her friend, and the confusion, yet surprising lack of distress, at the realisation.

Knighting Ally, and offering her own life in Viamadi during the same ceremony. Admitting their mutual love afterwards, and their first real kiss.

Ally revealing her greatest secret while saving the life of yet another total stranger, displaying the kind of superhuman abilities that lay within her all-too-human form.

Using those same abilities to fly them both to the completely secret grotto where they made love for the first time

Evelynne suddenly realised that she was much warmer and opened her eyes, reluctantly letting the good memories fade slightly. She almost panicked when she realised that she was inside the ice, ensconced in a bubble of warm water, sinking slowly as the ice reformed above her. She began to choke before noticing that she wasn’t breathing, and then felt foolish. Assuming this all was a purely mental plane, the air she had imagined breathing before was as unreal and ephemeral as the water she was immersed in now.

Imaginary or not, Evelynne’s eyes drooped as she felt a warm lethargy settle over her and could feel a far-off rhythmic thumping sound, and continued her journey towards it through the melting ice.

Evelynne realised that she was aware, and had been for some time, although she had absolutely no concept of exactly how long she had been so. It was like suddenly realising that one is dreaming in the middle of a dream, without any real idea of how long the dream has been going on. Indeed, this new realm she found herself in was incredibly dreamlike; while the previous reality had been excruciatingly real, this was indisputably surreal.

In the manner possible only in dreams, Evelynne was astride the dragon that had appeared before, but also flying alongside it at the same time. They were moving through a darkness that was filled with tangible indescribable colours, but Evelynne still felt like there was a barrier around her, like a bag over her head, allowing her to see only vague shapes and images.

Somehow turning to her guide, Evelynne asked/thought, “I can’t feel. I need

” She wasn’t completely surprised when her words emerged as semi-physical objects that swam across the unfathomable distance between them. She didn’t even say what she needed, the pure concept easily passing forth without the crudeness of words.

The dragon looked at her with concern, but didn’t argue. Instead, it simply spoke.

“See.”

The intangible veil lifted, and Evelynne almost screamed as the sensations hit her.

Where before the colourful darkness had been relatively calm, now, without changing visually in the slightest, it was a violently roiling mass of turbulent emotion. Uncontrolled grief, hatred, confusion, anguish, anger and guilt beat upon Evelynne’s astral senses mercilessly, though she knew she was only catching the edges of the emotional storm.

Even as she reeled under the onslaught, Evelynne’s mind automatically compensated by translating the sensations into a more symbolic format, one that allowed a measure of separation and comprehension.Once she had recovered slightly, she “looked” forward again, wincing as the hail battered her senses. What she saw chilled her.

Ally was certainly there, a battered, bloody form, completely exhausted, a waiflike figure nursing numerous defensive wounds on her arms and hands. She hadn’t been able to protect herself completely, as numerous bruises on her face and body attested. Again with a duality that seemed completely normal, she was both completely naked and dressed in an equally battered suit of armour that Evelynne could tell in some ineffable way was composed of logic, love and hope. It was incredibly fragile armour, though, threadbare and completely pierced through in places, but Ally was wrapping the remnants around her body in desperation against her attacker.

And attacking Ally was

Ally.

Somehow both a separate entity and the same being, the attacker was a nightmare of self-loathing, guilt, rage, and irrationality that struck at the defender with merciless and chaotic precision, knowing precisely where the weakest points in the armour were located. Which made sense, since they were the same person.

And Evelynne understood something she had comprehended only vaguely before. Over the past months she had, at times, wondered just how someone as intelligent, as insightful, as perceptive as Ally could continue to suffer so much about something she had no control over. Ally’s mind was too powerful, she had thought, to allow anything to affect her so. Now she knew that it wasn’t the external events that were directly assaulting Ally’s psyche.

She had never really considered what the effects would be if a mind as powerful as Ally’s were to literally turn on itself.

There was no adequate defence against something that knew all its own weaknesses, that drew its power directly from the strengths of its opponent. Every victory on either side was automatically a defeat, a blow against itself.

Still, that didn’t completely explain why all the people who had been trying to help had met with only very limited success. Even as she wondered about that, the answer came directly from the mind Evelynne was partially merged with, swirling up out of the depths like a bizarre shadow play.

Mere days after the actual events, where a drug-confused Ally had nearly had sex with a complete stranger in the bar, she had been able to directly confront the person who had been responsible. In an emotional showdown, Ally had thrown the woman into a wall and been prepared to strike her. Knowing Ally’s power, Evelynne had stopped her, afraid of just what Ally could be capable of. What she hadn’t guessed was just how close Ally had been to not simply striking her target, but to killing her. But even if Evelynne hadn’t known, Ally had, and this new horror over just what she was ready to do had terrified her, especially since for the briefest of moments she had been prepared to strike at Evelynne with equal force in the instant her partner had intervened. The knowledge that she would be willing to harm the person she loved above anything else had been so terrifying that she had instantly thrown up the strongest of shields, protecting the outside world from the danger she thought she represented, but also blocking anything outside from getting in.

And trapping inside every bit of pain and anguish she generated, allowing them to build and fester to awful proportions, enhanced by a “gift” that allowed her to relive, completely and with excruciating clarity, every moment of all the events that had caused them.

Fester was a good word, Evelynne considered. Now the inside of Ally’s mind was like a scabbed-over wound, the infection trapped inside and immune to any external poultice that might be applied. In time some form of psychic antibiotic might work, but watching the beleaguered Ally locked in mortal combat with herself, Evelynne didn’t know how much time Ally actually had. Even a psyche as strong and determined as Ally’s had its limits, and the blood-spattered warrior before her in the astral realm was clearly nearing them.

“I need to release her,” Evelynne murmured, half to herself and half to the dragon that was patiently waiting. “She needs to let it

out.” She turned again to the great form. “How do I get through?”

In response, the dragon looked upwardassuming the term had any meaning in this realmand Evelynne looked up to see the thick frozen surface far above her head. That would need to be pierced. It would not be the slow, gentle, love-inspired melting that had brought her to this place. Events had shown that slow and gentle would not help now. Afterwards, perhaps

Setting her ethereal shoulders, determined that there would be an afterwards to look forward to, Evelynne cast one last look at her embattled lover. Somehow sensing the attention, Ally looked at her with a gaze full of pitiful hope. As much as Evelynne wanted to rush forward and comfort her lover, she knew it would not help in the long run.

Instead, she took a deep metaphorical breath and drew into herself, drawing her energy together and groping for the link that even now joined their minds together on a primal level. It was weak, faded, a tattered remnant of what it had once been, but it still existed, the only weak point in the wall that Ally had built around herself. Grabbing hold of it, a simple task since it was formed at least in part from her ownpsyche, Evelynne took a final ethereal breath and struck.

With unstoppable force she drove outward, breaking through the frozen shield like a red hot knife lancing an infected wound, instantly ready to change her energy to a healing form, to hold Ally’s mind together through the storm she knew was coming.

If she wasn’t surprised by the maelstrom that ensued, she was shocked and terrified by its intensity. No longer bound by the shield wall it had built to protect both itself and the outside world, Ally’s mind whipped outward in furious chaos, whipping around a suddenly vulnerable Evelynne like a hurricane. Unbound pain and anguish lashed at her, but only peripherally; most of Ally’s mind’s energy was seemingly devoted to tearing itself apart. In desperation Evelynne threw the healing energy she had been holding in reserve into the chaos, reaching for those parts of Ally that she could, no longer possessing even an imaginary form to contain her. Instead, she was simply a disembodied force, like gravity, trying to weave together the fractured pieces of Ally’s mind. Evelynne knew that she was powerful herself, her own formidable psychic skills bolstered by months of training under both Ally and, later, Mrs Chen and Black Crow, but even so she found herself losing ground, unable to heal faster than Ally’s mind was tearing itself apart.

From somewhere she sensed a pulse of power, a deep, rhythmic pounding like a heartbeat, its source a diffuse yet powerful circle of energy from outside, and some part of her could hear the chanting of the band members outside the tent, their tone no longer relaxed and centering, but strong, supportive, providing a shield around Ally’s now-exposed mind, both keeping out any external threats and keeping Ally’s mind contained, preventing it from simply dissipating outward. However, even within that barrier, Ally’s psyche was disintegrating before her mind’s eye, and Evelynne cast about for a new source of power.

Her perceptions of Ally’s mind were fading, and in panic she saw that the very link between herself and Ally was unravelling, unable to withstand the storm. From somewhere she couldn’t perceive Evelynne found a new, hesitant source of power, whether deep within Ally’s psyche or her own she didn’t know, and seized it, frantically pouring its energy into the link, trying to make the ephemeral connection a bastion against the chaos, and finally it seemed to work. Still weaving the energy from that source into the link, Evelynne saw the maelstrom calm slightly, and slowly stop. It was still there, still battering against Ally’s sense of self, but at the same time it was strangely static, like a picture of frozen lightning.

Feeling her own energy fading, Evelynne almost wept. “Ally, please don’t!” she cried into her lover’s mind. “I love you!” She paused, mentally gasping for breath, then, with the last of her energy, she whispered.

I forgive you.

There was a pause as Ally’s psyche processed this simple phrase, one that Evelynne had been unable to verbalise until now, and then the storm

Inverted.

For a brief moment that Evelynne would never be able to describe, Ally’s mind exploded and imploded at the same time, the very particles of her being dissipating and coalescing at once, and then where Ally had been two aspects battling each other, now there was one.

This new Ally was lying on nothing Evelynne could perceive in a mindscape that was both completely void and filled with a rainbow-coloured light. Her eyes closed, Ally appeared to be sleeping, naked but for the dragon pendant around her neck and the ring on her finger, and Evelynne hesitantly moved closer. She reached out to touch the other woman, stopping when the slumbering form drew away ever so slightly, but she didn’t feel any sorrow from that instinctive response. Ally’s skin looked new, raw, but healing, and the destructive guilt that had been there before was gone.

No, not gone. The guilt was still there, under Ally’s skin, but now integrated more fully into Ally’s psyche as a whole, not a discrete weapon, and Evelynne nodded in sad acceptance. “Everything I have done and everything that has happened to me has had a part in making me who I am today,” Ally had told her once. “Changing anything about my past would make me a different person

” It wasn’t in Ally’s nature to forget or deny anything that had happened to herit was why the events that had led to this cleansing had been so persistentand now that healing could begin, for there were still deep wounds. Ally would take this experience and use it to grow and learn. Evelynne didn’t know what the “new Ally” would be like, but she knew she would be around to find out.

With the knowledge that Ally would be all right eventually, Evelynne suddenly realised that she was completely exhausted. The adrenaline that had been fuelling her dissipated with surprising suddenness, and Evelynne sank forward, and on two levels of reality she leaned her head on her lover’s breast and closed her eyes.

In a haze Evelynne felt herself being lifted gently, pulled awkwardly through a tight tunnel, and the abrupt change from sweltering heat to freezing cold was almost enough to jar her from her stupor. It wasn’t quite enough, though, and she was quickly wrapped in something warm. She had been separated from Ally at some point, but didn’t mind, since her partner’s soul was bright and safe, close by within the scope of her own mind, and Evelynne was content to let these people she trusted take care of Ally’s physical self.

She was being helped stumbling up some steps when something prompted her to look up blearily. Claire was standing in front of her, and where the rest of the surroundings were extremely blurry, Claire’s unusual face was oddly clear, although its black and white patterns seemed to blend into a shimmering rainbow, a flickering aura outlining her features. The expression on Claire’s face was also unusual, dazed and stunned, and she was being supported by at least one other person, but nevertheless her expression filled with relief that her friends were all right. Her gaze flicked behind Evelynne to where Ally was being carried, and then her eyes turned back to Evelynne, her question understood as clearly asif she’d spoken.

Evelynne understood and managed to dredge up a weary but genuine smile. “She’ll be all right,” she whispered hoarsely. “She’s just

resting now.”

Claire nodded, and Evelynne saw tears in her eyes and reacted by reaching out a handthe other was being held by Black Crow to support her, she vaguely recognisedwhich her friend took and squeezed. It was a brief moment of comfort, but it was enough.

“You rest, too, Evy,” she heard as fatigue came crashing down on her again and she leaned more heavily into the warm body supporting her.

Evelynne just closed her eyes and smiled as she slipped back into welcoming darkness.

Chapter 25

Ally rose slowly from a deep and completely dreamless sleep, revelling in the warmth of the sheets and the soft, almost inaudible breathing of someone else beside her in the bed. For the first time in months she felt safe and right and warm, and she spent a moment simply lying still and being before opening her eyes. She blinked as her eyes protested the bright light shining through the window, but the sight of Evelynne’s face inches away from her, facing her on the bed and close enough for her near-sighted gaze to make out, more than made up for that mild discomfort. In fact, the brightness itself was a blessing, the discomfort along the lines of a stiff muscle testing itself after long disuse, and Ally wondered just how long she had been living in the dark.

Satisfied, she settled down and simply watched the face so close to hers, completely unmotivated to do anything that might mar the peaceful moment. She didn’t know how long she watched her lover’s face before the other woman finally stirred. Evelynne’s eyes scrunched up tight and her nose wrinkled, and she made an odd noise somewhere between a grunt and a kitten’s meow as her whole body stretched and relaxed again. Ally just barely suppressed a giggle at the sight, and the giddiness and joy she felt was decidedly strange after so long with little to laugh about. Her lips were still curved in a hint of a smile when Evelynne opened her eyes.

There was no surprise in Evelynne’s eyes, as though she had known all along that Ally was watching her, and she smiled in lazy greeting. Then her gaze went slightly more serious and her eyes sharpened as she looked past Ally’s face and into her soul. Ally felt the feather-light touch of Evelynne’s mind on hers and welcomed it, reaching out in return to brush her lover’s thoughts in a communication without words. Somewhere in between their souls merged gently, like two clouds mingling idly with each other at the edges, and the indefinable rapport between them, as loving mental fingers tested for pain and soothed it away, brought tears to Ally’s eyes.

And there was still pain there, she knew, still scars that might never heal. But they could be lived with, salved with love, and no longer be soul-consuming in their scope. Ally’s eyes cleared and she saw the acknowledgement of that in Evelynne’s face and the lingering sadness there, and reached out to banish that sorrow by bridging the few inches between them and bringing their lips together.

It wasn’t an urgent kiss, but only a rejoining, a reaffirmation of their bond. It lasted for a long time, tasting and exploring, reminding Ally of the shy, uncertain kisses they had exchanged when their relationship was still very new.

They were very close together in the bed, and Ally’s hand was resting on Evelynne’s side, on top of the light t-shirt she was wearing, and she hesitated, pulling back slightly as sudden irrational doubt assailed her. She looked into her lover’s eyes, her own asking a question and seeking reassurance at the same time. Evelynne understood perfectly, and carefully grasped Ally’s hand, bringing it to her lips for a kiss before drawing it back down and slipping it under her shirt, closing her eyes and sighing softly at the sensation of skin on skin. Bringing her lips back to her lover’s, Evelynne kissed her ardently, encouraging the contact as Ally’s hand began to trace over Evelynne’s side and back.

Pulling back a little, Evelynne began kissing down Ally’s neck, paying particular attention to the special spot behind her ear that had Ally’s breath hitching. Continuing downward, she paused at the hollow to Ally’s throat while her fingers began to make short work of the topmost button of her bedmate’s shirt. Ally tensed, this time in such a way that Evelynne looked up to see the uncertainty, bordering on fear, on her lover’s face. The underlying confusion and near panic was easy to read, and, without quite knowing how she was doing it, Evelynne sent a pulse of thought and emotion into Ally’s mind. The wordless signal acknowledged Ally’s fear, let her know it was all right, and let her know simultaneously that the desire she was feeling was both legitimatenot the product of any artificial inducementand reciprocated. It would take a while, Evelynne realised, before Ally truly trusted her own reactions where sexuality was concerned, but this kind of reassurance was easy to give.

It worked, as the impulse of love and desire merged into Ally’s thoughts, and she relaxed, only to tense again as Evelynne’s explorations resumed in more sensitive areas of her anatomy. She continued her own tactile mapping of her lover’s flesh, her hand tracing up Evelynne’s side, then slipping down again, over the brief panties that her lover was wearing and drawing a thigh over her own pyjama-clad leg and then almost hesitantly slipping under the thin cloth. Evelynne had conquered the last button of Ally’s shirt, spreading it wide to allow her full access, and she gasped as Ally touched her. Coming back up Ally’s body, she kissed her lover urgently as her free hand went in the other direction, penetrating beneath Ally’s pants, and they surged together as they joined in mind and body once more.

Claire scowled at Mekohah as she walked through the door and the older woman looked up from her place in front of the fire and cackled wickedly. The laugh confirmed that Mekohah knew, or at least guessed, exactly why Claire had just spent the last quarter of an hour outside in the snow, and that just made her glare harderalthough it bounced right offeven as her skin reddened once more. It wasn’t fair, she complained, but there was no way this would ever become normal.

It wasn’t the first time it had happened, of course. Claire’s evil, cursed, treacherous, and wholly unwelcome visionnot wholly unwelcome, a cheeky part of her teasedhad dropped her into the middle of Ally and Evelynne’s lovemaking once before, although at the time she had believed it to be merely a kind of uncontrolled hallucination. That had been embarrassing enough, thinking that her own mind was capable of placing her friends in such a vulnerable and intimate position, but now that she knew what she was watching and hearing was real, it was a hundred times worse. She was intruding on an incredibly private and intimate moment like an unwilling voyeur, and she couldn’t even close her mind to block it out. This time there weren’t even the two or three other unrelated images cluttering her vision to distract her, leaving her with full three-dimensional sight and sound.

When it had first happened this morning, Claire’s first thought was relief that Ally and Evy had finally reconnected after so much pain, but that thankfulness had quickly dissipated when she realised that none of the exercises she had been practicing to control her vision were working in the slightest. Instead, she had focussed furiously on the book in her lap through images that were both transparent and fully solid, squirming with increasing discomfort, until finally she had attempted to casually stand and walk outside with a muttered excuse to Mekohah.

An interminable time in the cold had seen the climax, so to speak, of her private X-rated movie, and a few more minutes had let her cool down to the point that she could return to the house. Unfortunately, it appeared that her faux-casual exit had not fooled the canny old woman in the slightest, if the leer she was receiving was anything to go by.

“Oh, shut up,” Claire muttered, dropping back into her armchair and hiding behind the double shield of her hair and her book.

Mekohah just laughed again, saying something that sounded half-tease and half-promise.

Claire scowled at her again. “I really don’t want to know what you just said.”

The old woman giggled again with a final short, knowing phrase. She kept on laughing as the sound of the shower starting upstairs penetrated the room and Claire tensed, looking upward fearfully. Fortunately, no new vision was forthcoming. The last thing she wanted now was to see Ally or Evelynneor bothin the shower. Well, not the last thing, that same cheeky part of her contradicted. Claire ignored both her inner letch and the other woman in the room as she hunched down behind her book and sulked, staring sightlessly at the pages.

Finally, the sound of feet on the stairs pulled her from her reverie and she looked up to see Ally’s legs, thankfully now denim-clad, and then the rest of her as the other woman descended from the second storey, followed closely by her fianc?e. Ally looked around for a moment, blinking in the sunlight pouring through the main floor’s wraparound windows, before her gaze came to rest on Claire. She grinned, and Claire almost melted in relief at the sight. Ally’s smile had been one of the things Claire had first found so attractive, and had remained a guilty pleasure even after learning that she was otherwise involved, and its loss had been an almost physical blow. Now it was back, and Claire found herself grinning in reply, finding herself standing, as Ally bore down upon her.

Even with the smile, it was a little disconcerting to feel the enthusiasm with which Ally wrapped her in a hug. She was held that way for long moments, feeling the joyful energy that flowed off Ally, long beyond what she would have thought was proper. A helpless glance over Ally’s shoulder showed Evelynne standing on the bottom stair, looking at them both with an indulgent air. Claire tried to convey with her eyes that this embrace wasn’t her doing, and Evelynne just smiled back, shrugging.

Then Ally’s voice distracted her, as the taller woman murmured in her ear. “Thank you,” she whispered, low enough that only they could hear, “forfor just being there. I

Thank you.”

Claire pulled back a little, looking up into Ally’s face and squeezing her shoulder encouragingly. “I’ll always be there,” she said in a matching tone. “Whenever you need me. For anything.” The almost painful longing in her words was frighteningly apparent to her own ears, but Ally appeared to accept them at face value, to Claire’s mingled relief and sorrow. Ally just smiled again, and then, to Claire’s total shock, dipped her head and kissed her briefly but fully on the lips. It was more than a friendly kiss, less than a romantic one, a physical expression of the bond that now existed between them. Still, Claire’s legs almost folded, and her eyes whipped to Evelynne, in instant panic that this gesture would be interpreted as something else. Her heart almost stopped when she saw Evelynne standing not three feet away. The fear must have shown in her face as she pulled back guiltily, and then was stopped by Evelynne’s hand on her arm. The touch was calming, soothing, and her heart slowed somewhat.

“Ally’s right,” Evelynne said briefly, then stopped Claire’s heart again by leaning in to bestow a kiss of her own. “Thank you.”

“Um

uh

sure,” Claire stammered, completely flustered. She was shivering faintly, and felt both chilled and boiling hot at the same time, and she didn’t even want to guess what colourful hues her face was turning. Stepping back and attempting to gain some composure, she caught sight of Mekohah’s delighted face just before the old woman burst into laughter, doubling over from the force of her guffaws.

“And what are you laughing at?” Ally demanded, thankfully diverting attention as she stalked towards the cackling woman, a mock-severe expression on her face.

Mekohah said something Claire couldn’t understand, still grinning, that caused Ally to bark a laugh of her own. “You wish,” the younger woman stated dismissively before bending down to hug Mekohah. She murmured something into the old woman’s ear, and Mekohah replied with something equally low. Whatever she said, it made Ally look back to where Claire and Evelynne were watching bemusedly. “I know she is,” Ally said, this time loud enough for them to hear. She smiled at the two women. “They both are.”

“Where’s Black Crow?” Evelynne asked softly as Ally spoke to Mekohah.

“He said he was going to arrange for a celebration of some kind this evening,” Claire replied, grateful for the opportunity to restore a little emotional control.

“What kind of celebration? Like a party?”

Claire shrugged uncertainly. “He said it was traditional or something. Sort of a restoration of community spirit, I think he said.”

“Oh.” Evelynne frowned. “I don’t know if Ally will want to”

“If Ally will want to what?” Claire and Evelynne started at Ally’s sudden appearance.

“Oh, there’s going to be a celebration of some kind this evening, and I didn’t know if you wanted”

“A party?” Ally interrupted. “This evening?” Claire nodded. “Cool. Count me in.” Claire and Evelynne looked at each other, startled. The Ally they knew was usually extremely reluctant about attending any sort of social gathering, especially among people she didn’t know well. “First, though,” Ally continued, “I want to go outside for a while.” She looked between her two companions. “Wanna come?”

“Uh

okay,” Claire agreed, still desperately trying to regain some semblance of equilibrium that had been shattered by the morning’s events. Evelynne was already gathering their coats as Ally looked out the window.

“Hey, it looks like someone’s already been making snow angels,” Ally said brightly, causing Claire’s face to instantly flame again as she hurried to put on her jacket.

Outside, the air was startlingly brisk, but the brilliant sunshine made the snow-covered clearing and surrounding forests and mountains into a majestic scene. The sunshine made Claire grope for her sunglasses, the light searing her colourless eye painfully. Having them on made the surroundings much clearer, and she also hesitated for a moment before reaching for the tube of sunscreen in her pocket. While the cold made the sun’s rays seem weaker, she knew from painful experience just how quickly her pale skin would burn, especially with the double exposure from the light reflected off the snow. Fortunately, neither Ally or Evelynne seemed in a rush, the taller woman standing with her eyes closed, breathing deeply, as Evelynne held her arm and took in the scenery.

Ally opened her eyes just as Claire was finishing her task. “Shall we go?” she asked simply.

“Sure,” Claire replied, and Evelynne nodded. “Where are we going?”

“There’s a place I’ve been to a few times in the last few days,” Ally suggested as they made their way down the porch stairs. “It’s a bit of a hike, but it has an absolutely awesome view. You can see all the way to” She broke off suddenly as their path around the house brought them into view of the ceremonial lodge where the previous night’s activities had taken place.

It was much more desolate now without the people who had gathered earlier, the tent surprisingly small in the daylight. The remains of the surrounding fires littered the ground, still smoking slightly, and the contrast between this abandoned, silent scene and the previous evening’s chanting and drumming was jarring.

Evelynne and Claire halted when Ally did, and Evelynne hugged her partner’s arm more tightly. “Are you all right, love?” she asked softly. “We can go another way if you want.”

Ally appeared to shake herself out the reverie she was in. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m okay. Come on.” Her eyes never left the lodge, although they seemed more speculative and inquisitive than troubled. She led the way closer to the tent, stopping in front of the remains of the effigy that had stood there the night before.

“Remains” was an apt term, for what had been a crude mock-up of a woman was now little more than a few rags, straw, and string, appearing for all the world as though it had explodedwhich it had.

Claire shivered in the cold as she huddled with Mekohah near one of the fires, trying not to worry too much about what might be happening in the tent nearby. Ally and Evelynne had disappeared inside nearly six hours previously, and since then there had been no change inside as far as Claire could tell, and very little change outside. The drummers had kept up their chant unceasingly, rotating through replacements every half hour or so, allowing everyone to have a rest and a drink near the fires.

A presence made Claire look up, and she saw Black Crow standing over her, the flickering light making his face seem deep and mysterious. “How long will this take?” she asked quietly, already half-knowing the answer.

“As long as it takes,” Black Crow replied, confirming her guess. He looked at her kindly. “Try to sleep a little,” he suggested. “They’ll need you when they come out.”

Claire nodded and he walked away, but inside she knew that she wouldn’t sleep until her friends emerged. Instead, she took a mug of warm cider from a passing woman, smiling her thanks, and settled down more snugly under her coat.

The change was subtle at first, a barely sensed yet almost painful itch in the back of her mind, an echo of rage and pain that seemed to be gathering itself. Claire squirmed uncomfortably, looking around to see if anyone else felt it. Most of the assembled people appeared oblivious, but Mekohah was sitting upright, almost quivering with tension, and several meters away Black Crow was standing motionless, his gaze turned inward. Then, with shocking suddenness, he spun and shouted a short phrase. Without hesitation, the drummers who had been resting lunged for their instruments, and those still chanting picked up both the tempo and volume of their own singing. Still distracted by the phantom presence in her mind, Claire could almost see the wall of psychic energy they were erecting around the lodge. Time seemed to stretch for a moment, a long pause, before

The lodge exploded.

Not physically, but with her own nascent psychic talents fully engaged, there was little difference from Claire’s point of view. A tsunami of destructive emotion boiled out from the lodge, or more specifically its inhabitants, and slammed into the protective wall. The shield held, but enough leaked through to hit Claire’s mind with stunning force. Even as she reeled, falling to her hands and knees, she noticed that not everyone around appeared affectedmost of the bystanders didn’t seem to feel anything out of the ordinarybut a number shook themselves with varying degrees of disorientation. The more psychically aware, Claire supposed.

The storm of energy lulled slightly, a second drawing of breath, before it struck out once again. This time the shockwave was marginally less chaotic, more focussed, and as Claire watched, it gathered around the dark-haired effigy in front of the lodge

then proceeded to rip it apart, quite literally from the inside, and in that moment Claire instinctively understood.

The woman who had drugged Ally months before had had black hair.

That was all she had time to realise, because then, without additional warning, the sensations she was experiencing spiked once more, whipping her mind into a whirlwind of confused impressions.

“Almost there,” Ally said. “Just through those trees.”

Claire just nodded, saving all her energy for wading through the knee-deep snow. She had thought that she was in decent, if unspectacular, shape, but compared to Ally’s seemingly limitless energy she was definitely lagging. On the up side, Evelynne appeared to be about on par, so she didn’t feel so bad. It wasn’t that they were maintaining a particularly strenuous pace, but the combination of snow, cold, and the gentle but constant uphill path were definitely slowing them down.

Except for Ally. Their guide and leader seemed to have reverted to some childlike mental state. Her curiosity was endless, as she poked her head into every nook and cranny along the trail, and her mischievous streak was equally boundless, as a string of unfortunate squirrels, who had suddenly found themselves in the middle of a storm of psychokinetically-thrown snowballs, could attest. After the first such incident, Ally had turned to her companions with a wicked twinkle in her eye, but a quick-thinking Evelynne had immediately said, “Don’t even think about it,” in a tone that boded ill for her lover’s chances at a body-warmed bed that night. Ally had pouted, even as Claire breathed a sigh of relief, before taking out her sulking frustration on a defenceless rabbit that had the misfortune of being within range.

Fortunately, Ally had calmed somewhat after that, to her companions’ relief, even though the playfulness she was displaying was a welcome sign after being absent for so long. The walk had turned more peaceful when Evelynne had slipped her hand into her lover’s, then looped her free arm through Claire’s.

Now they finally broke through the last of the trees and Claire stared in awe at the vista before them. The trees stopped a stone’s throw from a cliff that dropped off towards the bottom of the mountain at least three hundred metres below. The cliff looked out westward over the valley, granting a breathtaking view of the Selkirk Mountains, on the other side of which the coast lay some unseen distance away. It was just past noon, so the sun was almost directly south, glinting off the snow and turning the scene into a glistening cloth of ice and crystal. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the combined brilliance of sun and snow made Claire’s pale eye ache, even through the shield of her sunglasses, but she didn’t care.

“Wow,” she breathed as Ally led them carefully closer to the edge of the cliff, cautiously picking their way over the snow-covered ground, and immediately winced as her voice broke the pristine stillness.

“It’s gorgeous,” Evelynne murmured, and suddenly the sound wasn’t quite so out of place, filling the emptiness instead with joy and friendship.

“I know,” Ally said, as they stopped a couple of metres from the cliff edge. Closing her eyes, she lifted her arms out to her sides, stretching and breathing deeply. “You feel free up here.” Dropping her arms, she turned to her companions with a now-familiar twinkle in her eye. “Completely free.” With that, she turned swiftly and, in a single bound, leapt forward and hurled herself over the edge.

Claire shrieked and would have followed, instinctively if irrationally prepared to jump over and drag Ally back bodily, but Evelynne grabbed her arm just in time. Claire whirled on Ally’s lover, completely unprepared for the lack of concern on her face. “Whabushd” she stuttered, unable to string together anything like a coherent sentence.

“It’s all right,” Evelynne soothed, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “Ally’s fine. In fact

” She nodded towards the cliff, and Claire looked just in time to see Ally rocket upwards through the space she had just dropped.

The sight was so startling that Claire jerked backwards, dropping to the ground as she gaped open-mouthed at the figure swooping through the sky above them. “ItIShe can fly?!” she half-yelled hysterically.

She sensed more than saw Evelynne’s nod. “She can fly,” Evelynne confirmed unnecessarily. “I thought you knew.” She looked back concernedly as Claire whirled to glare at her.

“Knew? How would I know?”

“I thought Ally had told you. Or Mrs. Chen.”

“No! For some reason nobody bothered to mention to me the minor fact that my best friend can” She broke off suddenly, her gaze going skyward once again, and she frowned in confusion. “Is shesinging?”

Evelynne cocked her head, listening, and then sighed resignedly. “I’m afraid so,” she replied, as the off-key strains of I’m Walking On Sunshine drifted down, and her lips quirked. The burgeoning smile faded, however, as she saw her friend’s glare and the alarmingly pale hues of her face. “I’m so sorry. I really thought you knew.”

“Knew what?” Ally’s voice reached Claire’s ears, and her head whipped back to see Ally touch down a few feet away with a crunch of snow. “Knew what?” Ally repeated.

“Claire didn’t know you could

you know

fly,” Evelynne replied, looking at her partner with faint accusation.

“Didn’t know thatOh damn, Claire. And you thought that I had

” Ally waved towards the cliff. “Damn, I am so sorry. I thought that Evy had told you.”

“And I thought you had told her,” Evelynne said wryly, but with sympathy.

“Still, I am so very sorry, Claire,” Ally said again, crouching down to wrap her arms around her friend. Claire hugged back with almost painful strength and buried her face in Ally’s shoulder, incredibly grateful to have this tangible proof that Ally was not, in fact, splattered all over the rocks three hundred metres below. “Are you okay?” Ally asked after several minutes, and Claire pulled back, nodding.

“I think so,” Claire replied in a much steadier voice. “You know, by this time I should be expecting impossible things to happen whenever I’m around you two.”

“Us three, Miss I-Can-See-What’s-Happening-On-The-Other-Side-Of-Town,” Ally corrected as Evelynne squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, and Claire’s mind flashed back to what she had inadvertently “seen” that morning.

“Uh, yeah,” she said, clearing her throat. “So you can fly?” she asked in an overly-casual tone, and her companions chuckled.

“Yeah,” Ally replied. “Do you want to

?” She nodded skyward.

Claire’s eyes widened again. “You mean you can take other people? And I can

?” Ally nodded. “Yeah.” She remembered Evelynne and looked at her. “That is, unless you want to

“

“Go,” Evelynne said firmly, helping her to her feet. “It’s incredible.”

“O-okay. But can we not just, like, jump over

” She gestured towards the cliff.

“Don’t worry,” Ally said. “We’ll go straight up. Just hold on.”

A moment later they were airborne, and after a few minutes Evelynne laughed out loud as an off-key duet of Somewhere Over the Rainbow drifted down out of the sky.

Chapter 26

The Tribal Hall was packed with what what was quite possibly the entire population of the Grey Bear Lake Reserve. A large, cunningly designed fireplace in the middle of the hall provided the majority of the light, not to mention the heatnot an insignificant contribution considering the frigid temperature outside. A wide space around the fireplace had been cleared of everything but those who wished to dance, and there were quite a few of those. Celebrants taking a break, or choosing not to join in, gathered and chatted and gossiped around the edges of the Hall. The music being played was eclectic, to say the least. Modern-style dance music, with a definite Native influence, made up the bulk of it, but jazz, Celtic tunes and a few weird percussion selections rounded it out. At the request of a few of the younger members, a few hard-rock pieces had made their way into the line-up and were suffered through with immense patience, until those specific CDs had been conveniently lost by the hard-working DJs.

Evelynne laughed as Harry Leaping Salmon, one of Black Crow’s ubiquitous cousinsEvelynne had yet to puzzle out just what criteria were required to make someone the elder’s cousin, as he seemed to possess a multitudefinished a rather crude joke involving Canadian currency, complete with sound effects and physical expressions. It took Evelynne a moment longer than everyone else to see the punch line, not being completely familiar with dimes, quarters, or the even more ridiculously named Canadian loonie, but Harry’s enthusiastic demonstration was all that was needed to have her chuckling.

As if an echo, laughter spilled over from the other side of the hall, over the combined noise of music and enthusiastic conversation. Evelynne looked that way, still marvelling at how many people had turned up for this

What did Black Crow call it? Social ceremony, she remembered. More like any excuse to party ceremony. The next time someone tries to tell me Native Canadians are supposed to be staid, stoic, humourless people, I’m going to laugh in their face. Most of those in attendance had probably been at the sweat lodge ceremony earlier, but Evelynne’s state of mind at that time had been such that she hadn’t formed an impression of those present. Now, though, she was pleased and gratified at the number of people who had come out to show support for the three strangers who had dropped into their midst. Most probably had no real understanding of what had really occurred in the sweat lodge, but the simple acceptance that had brought them out was warming.

Another burst of laughter shook Evelynne from her musing, and she finally managed to see to the other side of the hall, where a number of locals were teaching Ally to paint the face of another of their numberwith questionable success, if the near-constant laughter was any indication. Ally and Evelynne had been appropriately adorned earlier, and if the paint on her own face was slightly irritating her sensitive skin, the exotic appeal that Ally’s face now held was worth it.

Claire, of course, had foregone any additional adornment, her face already boasting its own natural pattern, and at first she had been uncomfortable at being excluded, however inevitably, from the activities, until a couple of children had hesitantly approached, desiring black and white facial art of their own. Now at least a dozen tiger-striped proud little warriors were mingling in the crowd, and Claire was carefully applying the paint to add another convert to the Cult of Claire. The thought that others might find her appearance attractively exotic, let alone wish to duplicate it, was obviously difficult to accept at first, but Evelynne was happy to see that the horde of little Claires and Clarences was doing the job.

Finally Ally moved back from her latest vicsubject, allowing the poor man she had been working on to be seen, and Evelynne snorted a laugh at the comical, clown-like paint that had been enthusiastically applied. The man had his eyes screwed shut, obviously unwilling to look into the mirror that was now being offered, but the surrounding laughter told the bad news, and he opened his eyes resignedly. They widened at the sight in the mirror, and he said something Evelynne couldn’t hear. Ally’s protest was also lost, but the man drew himself up with immense dignity, to the hoots of his audience, marched up the young woman who was laughing hardest, grabbed her by the arm, and led her onto the dance floor, where he put on a show worthy of his impressive appearance.

Smiling in triumph, Ally turned to her audience, all of whom scrambled out of her line of sight with exaggerated terrified expressions while she threw her head back and laughed wickedly. Evelynne grinned at the sight, as Ally managed to snag a teenage girl and wrestle her into the chair.

She’s looking happy, isn’t she?

The voice was just loud enough to be heard over the constant din of conversation and music, and Evelynne looked to see Black Crow take a seat beside her.

She does, Evelynne agreed, nodding. She frowned slightly. Although she seems almost

too happy, if that makes any sense. Struggled for words. She’s giddy. Uninhibited. More so than she ever was even before

 She waved a hand vaguely to encompass the entirety of the unfortunate events that had led up to this evening.

I know. I expected this might happen, assuming last night had worked at all. Black Crow’s face was serious as he explained. Before last night, Ally was hiding behind a wall she’d made herself. She had built up her mental defences, so she could protect herself from a world that was suddenly harsh and confusing, and to protect the world from the threat she thought she represented. Every spare bit of energy went into that wall. Last night it was annihilated. Not broken, not cracked. Destroyed, smashed to rubble. When she woke up this morning, every mental defence and inhibition was gone, and her psyche was exposed. He shook his head. I am making it sound harsher than it really is. But as you know, the English language does not have the words to fully describe the phenomena that we, at least, are slowly beginning to take for granted. He shrugged. Ally’s psyche was exposed. Dangerously so, if she had been in another place and situation. As it was, she woke surrounded by a bare minimum of other minds, all of whom loved her. That was deliberate, you know. Often after a vision quest, the seeker isolates himself, the better to build up resistance and prepare to be once more grounded in society. During the time she spent alone with you, Claire, and my mother, the pressure of your minds made her automatically and completely unconsciously begin to build up those natural mental walls she’s going to need to function among other people. Some distance is always necessary. We can’t live totally exposed all the time. However, she is still building those walls, and until she does so, her psyche will be much more unguarded. Like a child.

Evelynne nodded slowly. That makes a lot of sense. This morning we touched minds, and it was so much more intense than it’s ever been before. And it was amazing, and wonderful, but it was also almosttoo intense. Like a bath that’s just a bit too hot for comfort. She looked troubled.

Don’t be upset, Evelynne, Black Crow said softly, squeezing her shoulder. No matter how much they love each other, two souls are never meant to join utterly and without division. To do so would make them one person, and the two individuals would be gone. Souls may touch, share, even grant pieces of themselves to the other, but they were never meant to become one in this world. That is reserved for the next, when the Great Spirit joins all things together once again.

I know, Evelynne replied, and she smiled, all trace of unhappiness and uncertainty gone. Now I’m just happy she’s better. Even if she is making a fool of herself.

Who’s making a fool of herself? The sudden voice in her ear made Evelynne jump, and Ally grinned at her. Anyone I know?

Fool? Did I say fool? I meant to say cool. You’re making a cool of yourself. You know, as in you’re really cool. Evelynne grinned back.

Sure, Ally said doubtfully. Why don’t I believe you?

Because you, my love, are a very intelligent woman. Deluded, but intelligent. Evelynne pulled her partner down for a kiss. Letting her up for air, she asked, So have you finished torturing

I mean,entertaining your fans?

They don’t want to play any more. Ally pouted. Changing moods and topics with a dizzying rapidity that was becoming the norm for the evening, she pulled Evelynne to her feet. Come on, I want to dance.

Claire looked up in time to see Ally drag a laughingly protesting Evelynne onto the dance floor, and smiled. It was beyond good to see the two of them smiling once more. Of course, Ally wasn’t completely healed yetin fact, it was unlikely she would ever bebut that was for the future, and tonight was simply about joy and laughter.

The entire day had been wildly surreal, and now weariness was adding to the dreamlike quality of her memories of it.

Flying with Ally had been

Again, the only term that Claire could think of was dreamlike. Whatever her previous knowledge of her friend’s powers, that had honestly never crossed her mind, although now that she thought about it she didn’t know why it hadn’t. Perhaps vaguely she might have predicted some kind of simple levitationSimple levitation, she scoffed at herselfbut to actually swoop and soar through the air like a bird was just a fantasy. Ally had started out with fairly tame manoeuvres but then, when Claire had proved amenable, had graduated to loops and stunts that would have put the entire Snowbirds aerobatics team to shame. It had been overwhelming to Claire, the entire experience becoming completely timeless, so that after what seemed like only a few minutes they had landed to find that almost two hours had passed. Evelynne had been shivering but smiling when they returned, helping support Claire when her legs wouldn’t hold her.

Then it had been Claire’s turn to be on the observing end as Ally took her lover into the air, literally dancing weightless for a time as they hung in the sky. Claire didn’t really know why Ally hadn’t taken them both up togetherperhaps it was too difficult to carry two peoplebut she had experimented by projecting her sight next to them, and it had been as though she was flying with them as they whirled and turned. The mid-air make-out session that had begun had sent Claire’s vision scurrying back to the safety of her own head, content after that to just enjoy the scenery and process what had just occurred.

After returning to Black Crow’s house and a well-deserved afternoon napalthough Claire wondered just how much actual sleeping Ally and Evelynne had donethey had set off for this party, where the mood had become slightly more down-to-earth, but just as joy-filled as before.

She really is doing better, Claire thought, and that caused a sliver of uncertainty to spoil her mood. Now that Ally was on the path to healing, she wasn’t sure just how much longer they would be staying. For a little while longer, certainly, but eventually her friends would have to move on, if nothing else than to return to Atlantis when it was finally safe to do so, and Claire wasn’t positive what role she would play when that time came around. They wouldn’t forget her or abandon her, she knew, but she was also very aware that their current relationship was based on a bizarrely unique series of events, and she wasn’t sure what would happen when the Crown Princess of Atlantis and her Consort returned to their normal lives.

There was also the fact that for the first time in as long as she could remember, Claire felt comfortable. The people around her didn’t stare at her when she walked by, or find her appearance freakish. They found it intriguing, to be sure, but with none of the slightly repulsed fascination that had always been present in her life. That freedom from scrutiny was attractive, and the possibility of continuing to study both her gift and a newly revealed interest in psychology with Joseph Black Crow was also appealing.

Claire, you’re thinking too much. Evelynne’s words appeared in her head unexpectedly, and she looked into the Hall to see her friends, along with Mekohah and Black Crow, looking back at her.*You’re frowning, and according to Mekohah that’s not allowed tonight. You’ll give yourself wrinkles. So get up and get your butt out here. That’s pretty much a direct translation of what she’s saying, by the way.*

The humour in the mental voice was more than enough to banish Claire’s doubts, but she made sure to sigh theatrically and carefully examine her face for wrinkles before heading out onto the dance floor.

In an office overlooking the Atlantlan city of Jamaz, a figure fumed. Plans yearsdecadesin the making were all coming to naught, all because the all-damned Heir had, for all intents and purposes, dropped off the planet.

The original plan should have worked. It had taken years to arrange what the public was now openly calling the Invasion, and given the shadowy figure’s connections, it should have worked. A swift, unstoppable stroke, and a nation would have been decapitated, its rulers eliminated, paving the way for the culmination of the Plan.

Instead, the Guardwho, again, should have been completely in the darkhad somehow discovered at least part of the planning behind the Invasion. Not enough to completely avert the hammer-blow that had struck the so-called Nobility, but enough to turn what was to be a fatal blow into a mere crippling wound. That had required a drastic change in the Plan, but had opened up other options. The Nobility remained in power, but enough of them had perished that their Heirs were young, inexperienced, and vulnerable to the kinds of influence that would be required to achieve even the partial success that the Plan was aimed at. However, they were learning quickly, as would be expected from the scions of families bred for centuries for strength and responsibility, and were beginning to weave themselves into the tightly-bound interaction of peer-to-peer, vassal and liege, that the Plan had been designed to tear apart.

And in large part that emerging strength was due to the continued patronage of the Royal Family deMolay. Somehow the most important set of targets had escaped almost completely unscathed, and that was maddening. The other major branches of the Royal Line had perished in the attack, but that left the King and Heir alive, and the direct line of succession intact. And that was why they had to die. With the only clear succession gone, there were more than enough rival claimants to drive the Nobility, if not into complete civil war, then at least into years of chaos as they vied for the Thrones. And that chaos would open up more opportunities, and give a modified version of the original Plan a chance at success.

But that meant the King and Heir would have to die. The King was less of a concern: when the time came it would be almost too easy to kill him, but until the Heir was dead there was no point. His death would make her the new Queen, and there was absolutely no certainty that there would be the same opportunity to eliminate her when the time came. So she had to die first.

When the Guard had invoked the Geranin Protocol, it had taken time to assemble the proper tools, and then acquire the locations of all the possible Heirs, and there had been more than expected. But that was no real concern, beyond the extra effort and expense involved. If one didn’t mind killing all the fish in the barrel, one might as well use a shotgun rather than a rifle. But then the tools had missed! It turned out the desired fish was not even in the barrel at all, but out swimming in the wide ocean, free and alive.

So new plans were required, bait thrown in the water to draw the fish into the net. And the figure knew just the perfect bait.

That was awesome, Claire, Ally praised, leaning back in her seat, satisfied and full.

It was indeed, Evelynne agreed, looking far from a princess as she undaintily mopped up the last remnants of stew with a slice of bread.

Thank you, Claire said, smiling shyly at the people around the table, ending with Mekohah. I did have a lot of help.

Nonsense, Black Crow translated for his mother. She merely caught you before you put in vinegar rather than chipotle sauce.

Evelynne froze with her hand halfway to her mouth, then continued. Well, that was lucky, she said mildly. Finally finished, she followed her lover’s lead and leaned back as well.

Here, let me get this, Claire said, beginning to gather up the plates.

She cooks and cleans, Ally said, affecting an impressed expression. What do you think, love, should we keep her? She winked at her partner.

Oh, definitely. Evelynne nodded as Claire blushed. She’s probably expensive, though, she mused. What do you have on you?

As Ally made a great show of looking through her pockets, Black Crow stopped Claire from gathering the dinnerware. You’re going to have to make a very generous offer to keep this one, he said, standing. She’s probably more than you can afford. Or at least more than you want to pay at the moment. But while you and your wife come up with a bid, you can sweeten the pot by taking care of the dishes. That’ll be good for a down-payment, don’t you think?

Curses! Ally snapped her fingers. Foiled again! Standing with great dignity, she held out a hand to help her partner rise. Come, Your Highness. Twould seem the slaves have revolted, and we must sully our hands with this

this manual labour. She picked up a single fork with the tips of her fingers, peered at it, and shuddered theatrically.

The slaves are revolting indeed, Your Ladyship, Evelynne agreed. Absolutely revolting. We really must beat them more often.

Ally nodded. Mmm. Of course, knowing some of them She looked at a highly amused Claire out of the corner of her eye. they might actually enjoy more frequent beatings. I name no names, of course. Sighing, she dropped the fork back onto the plate. However, this is quite unacceptable. Standing, she placed one fist on her hip and pointed imperiously at the fork. Atten-shun! The fork obediently leapt upright, balancing quite impossibly on end. Right turn! It spun to face the kitchen area. Forward march! With short, regularly timed hops, the fork marched to the edge of the table, jumped off the edge, and continued across the floor, before leaping up and into the sink with a clatter. Ignoring her half-amused, half-awed audience, Ally turned to the table once more. Well? she demanded at its surface. What are you waiting for? With a great clatter, the rest of the cutlery jumped up and followed the fork’s path in a great untidy swarm. Never to be outdone for a clich?, the last item to leap into the sink was the tiny spoon from the pepper bowl, trailing behind the others by several feet.

Hm. Ally made a satisfied noise and brushed her hands together, smiling proudly. Now

The finger she pointed towards the plates was quickly grabbed by an alert Evelynne. Oh no, you don’t! Her partner scolded. I’m not risking Mekohah’s wrath by having another plate broken. We can do the rest by hand, like sensible people. Ally pouted, while Evelynne grinned and waved the others away. You go and relax. The Sergeant and I will take care of this.

Claire, Black Crow, and Mekohah nodded agreeably and casually made their way towards the living area on the other side of the house. Evelynne watched until they were out of sight and the muted sound of the television came on before turning to Ally and letting some of her concern show.

Ally, are you all right?

Of course I am. Why wouldn’t She stopped when Evelynne reached up to knead her temple.

Ally, love, this is me. I know that that Evelynne gestured towards the silverware now in the sink. wasn’t easy. I just don’t want you straining yourself too much.

Ally sighed and visibly relaxed into Evelynne’s hand, her eyes drooping. It was a little tricky. There wasn’t a lot of energy involved, but it was like



Like juggling forty pieces of silverware with one hand? Evelynne completed, shifting to rub the bridge of Ally’s nose. I thought so.

I’m okay, though, really, Ally said. I just wanted to have some fun, you know?

I know, Evelynne smiled. And I understand. Just be careful, all right?

I will, Ally promised. Well, since you won’t let me do this the fun way, I suppose we’d better get on with it. Wash or dry?

Wash, Evelynne replied, turning on the water. I know you hate prune fingers.

Ally grinned at the sight of Evelynne, ready to plunge her hands in soapy water. You’ve really taken to this, you know, she commented. What do you think, will Latifah let you in her kitchen every once in a while to wash up when we get home?

Evelynne smiled back. Well, I am the Heir. I can do whatever I want.

I don’t know, Ally said doubtfully. Somehow I think Latifah outranks you in her own kitchen. You might have to

Her thought was interrupted by a sudden near-panicked shout, accompanied by an empathic jolt of shock and fear that both women felt with surprising clarity.

ALLY! EVELYNNE!

Spurred by Claire’s shout, they rushed into the living area. What? Evelynne began, but Claire just pointed to the news broadcast on the television screen.



just tuning in, the Atlantean government has confirmed an apparent terrorist attack on a ship within their territorial waters. The RAS Haltan Sail, an oceanographic research vessel, was reportedly struck byreports are uncleareither a torpedo or a small missile. The area has been blocked off by ships of the Atlantean Navy, and the entire Atlantean military has been placed on high alert. It is known that the Haltan Sail was being chartered by a whale research group headed by Canadian Catherine Tretiak, well known as the mother of Lady Alleandre Tretiak, who became engaged to Princess Evelynne deMolay shortly before the mercenary attacks on the Atlantean Islands earlier this year. The Atlantean government has yet to speculate on the motive behind this attack, and whether it is related to the earlier terrorist incursion. It is known that there were several casualties when the ship was hit. Catherine Tretiak has been reported as alive, but her condition is unknown at this time. William Tretiak, Lady Alleandre’s father, has been taken into protective custody in Parksville, British Columbia, by members of the Atlantean Guard.

Once again, Lady Alleandre Tretiak’s mother was the apparent target of a terrorist attack



The voice seemed to fade into the background as Ally turned a white-faced, beseeching look on her partner.

Evelynne didn’t even hesitate. You get all our things together. I’ll make the travel arrangements.

Acting Assistant Deputy Consul Iva’an Elseth didn’t turn around as the door to the Consul’s office opened, remaining hunched over the keyboard as a dozen messages encoded and decoded themselves on his screen. The Atlantlan Trade Consulate in Calgary was hardly a centre of political or military power by any stretch of the imagination, but a High Alert had to be acknowledged by all embassies and consulates worldwide, even the newest, most understaffed of all. And with the Consul away, and no Deputy yet officially assigned, that put Iva’an in charge. There was only a single Guard currently in the Consulate, andElseth assumed that it was Lieutenant Amy Bulale who had broached the sanctity of the office.

Give me a moment, Amy, he said. I just need to He glanced up and froze.

I am Princess Evelynne Sophia al-Heru deMolay. This is my Consort, Lady Alleandre Tiffany Tretiak, and these are Ishta Claire Jones and Enku Joseph Black Crow. I will speak with the King.

To say: O ye, who are set over the hours, who are before Ra, make ready the way for N.,

that N. may pass through in the midst of the border guard of hostile mien.

N. is on the way to his throne, like one whose places are in front, who is behind the god, with bowed head,

adorned with a sharp and strong antelope’s horn,

like one in possession of a sharp knife, which cuts the throat.

The driver-away of suffering from the bull, the punisher of those in darkness,

is the strong antelope’s horn, which is behind the Great God.

N. has reduced them to punishment; N. has crushed their head.

The arm of N. will not be resisted in the horizon.

—Egyptian Pyramid Texts, Utterance 251

The End of Book 2

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