Selena

After watching Ryan successfully complete the Circle, I turned to check on Sarah and the others, and found them already some distance up the stairs to the Tir. Just as I turned back to spy upon the temple group further, I noticed a strange scent. It was bitter and sweet...dry...something I remembered from when I was younger. And then it hit me. It was the smell of my mother's perfume. I turned to the right just in time to see a cloaked figure move around the temple, out of my view. I turned back towards Sarah, hoping I could catch her eye and indicate where I was going, but she was too far away, and there was no time. If I did not give chase immediately, there was a good chance I would lose the figure, and I could not allow that to happen. If it was my mother, if she was still alive, I had to know. But I would not go unprepared. I did not like the idea of going off alone without anyone knowing where I was. It could be a trap, after all, although that seemed unlikely. I had not been disinterred long enough for any old enemies to be aware that I was back, and the odds of someone knowing what perfume my mother wore when I was a child were vanishingly small, especially since she had died over 100 years ago. Or so I had been told.

I made sure my defensive spells were firmly in place and then hastened to follow the figure. As I rounded the corner, I saw them running away from the temple towards what looked like an open-air marketplace off one side of the town square. From the person's gait, I could tell it was a woman, but the dark robes flying back in the wind concealed any more details as to her appearance. I saw no sign of obvious weapons, but that signified no more than it had with the white-robed figures we had encountered earlier. Whoever the woman was, it was obvious that I could not catch her without running full out after her, an option I discarded for several reasons. First, she might see me chasing her and manage to elude me in the crowd, or teleport out, although I could probably trace the latter. In addition, I had a distaste for the idea of running pell-mell across the square. It was so undignified. Instead, I decided to teleport to a point ahead of the woman, so I could get a better look at her.

It was as I triggered the spell that something went horribly awry. I felt a sudden spike of cold through my abdomen, and I began to lose consciousness...only to jolt back into reality when I hit the hard cobblestone street from a height of six feet. So much for not looking undignified. I landed on my side and felt slightly winded by the impact, not to mention disoriented, but nothing appeared to be damaged. I glanced around as I tried to catch my breath, and found the woman I had been pursuing standing practically over me, casting me in shadow.

"Ever predictable, Daughter...why run ten steps when magic will take you there in an instant? Sad, really. I had hoped you would elude me...and avoid the pain that is to come."

The voice was unmistakably Mother's, but the tone was...cold. I looked up at her in confusion, the feeling of disorientation growing, and then I felt the ground beneath me begin to soften and crumble. I was not sure what was going on here, but I was quite sure I did not wish to fall into whatever lay in wait beneath me. I attempted to roll to more stable ground, praying that whatever had interrupted my spell had not rendered me incapable of such movement. If it had, I would have to try another teleport spell, although the results of the last one left me in doubt of its success. Fortunately, my movement was unhindered, and I watched as the ground crumbled away at the spot where I had lain moments before, leading to a dark pit from which emanated a bone-chilling cold. I could not see the bottom of it. Somehow, I did not think there was a bottom. Then, before I could regain my feet, I felt a sharp pain as a dark cord wrapped around my left wrist, causing my entire arm to go numb with cold. The same cold I had felt when my spell was interrupted. For the first time, I felt a trace of real fear.

"Sorry, Daughter, but my superiors are not overly respectful of familial relations...and I must bring you with me...," Mother informed me coolly.

And then I heard a man clear his throat. "Pardon me, madam, but if you do not release the Lady Melanie, I shall be forced to run you through with a Pattern blade, something neither of us would much enjoy overmuch," he stated calmly.

I knew that voice! Looking up, I saw Momus standing calmly behind Mother, wielding what looked like Werewindle. How had he known to find me here? At the moment, it did not matter. I drew my dagger from my boot and began sawing at the dark cord around my wrist. I did not think it would have any effect, but it was the only weapon I had. I do not know if it was my efforts with the dagger, or Momus' presence, but the cord released me as soon as I began trying to cut through it. Mother's retreat from Werewindle caused me to suspect the latter explanation.

"I must say, sir," Mother said with a tight smile, "that I don't feel it is at all fitting for you to interfere in a family matter."

"Nor madam," he replied, "is it fitting for the dead to walk the earth. I fear we shall both have to forgive these trespasses, however." He moved over towards me and offered me a hand up, his eyes never leaving Mother. I managed to grasp his hand with my left one and stand, although the numbness in my arm made it difficult. Had he not been holding onto my hand, I am not sure I could have maintained my grip. I could have used my right hand, of course, but that would have meant sheathing the dagger, and I found myself unwilling to do that just yet. Like Momus, I too watched Mother, readying myself to jump away should another one of those pits open up.

"Well," Mother began, "I know when I'm outmatched... Until next, Daughter."

A black gate opened behind her and she stepped backward through it, disappearing from sight, the gate closing again after a moment. I knew my mother well, or at least I thought I had, and much to my surprise, there was something about her expression at the end there... She seemed pleased to have failed. But perhaps I simply imagined it, wanting to convince myself that my own mother had not just tried to kill me. Or worse. What was going on here? Who were the superiors that she had referred to, and why did they want me? The gate she exited through, I had seen its like before, and recently. It was the same means Edgar had used to depart. Abyssal means...

"You and your mother don't get along well, I take it," Momus commented with a completely straight face.

I turned to look at him, wondering how I could explain this. "We did, before... But that was not entirely my mother, anymore. It seems that the followers of the Abyssal witch were not completely eliminated." I shivered a bit as I tried to compose myself, much to my dismay. This whole encounter had shaken me more than I cared to admit. It had been difficult enough to learn that my mother was dead, but to encounter her in such a manner. It was worse than her being dead. Much worse.

Momus sheathed Werewindle and offered me his arm. "Let us away from here before she returns with reinforcements."

A sound idea, indeed. I replaced the dagger in my boot and took his arm, noticing with relief that the cold was fading away from my left arm, and feeling was beginning to return. Then suddenly Cerridwen appeared before us, her expression anxious. Seeing the two of us unharmed, she relaxed. "My magics warned me a touch too late, I suspect."

Momus bowed. I tried to force a smile. Would she have arrived in time had Momus not put in his appearance? An uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach said no. As she said, a touch too late.

"I do not recall inviting you on this particular outing, Momus," Cerridwen said with an ironic smile.

"Oh, yes," he replied. "I forgot my kerchief in the Tir...couldn't find one of your servants...and by the time I found it, we were already well away from the Courts. Rather silly, really." Stopping a moment, he unbuckled Werewindle from his side and handed it to Cerridwen. "I found this sword lying about...and since I did not recognize the locale, I felt it best to go armed. Please forgive my impertinence."

Cerridwen took the sword, and glared ever-so-slightly at Momus. "Lying about? I somehow doubt that...but it matters not..."

Indeed. Given the results, I was inclined to be rather grateful that he had brought the sword along. My mind was starting to function enough now to almost appreciate the irony that he had chosen that sword in particular. To be defended from my mother by my father's sword was not something I had ever expected to see happen in my lifetime. But there was a downside to his choice of weapon as well, and it did not take long for it to be revealed. Cerridwen looked at the sword again for a moment, and then looked up at me, and something in her eyes indicated the flash of recognition that I had been afraid of. Her next words confirmed it.

"But perhaps I should give this to the Lady Melanie...as she appears to have more need of it," Cerridwen said, a smile lurking in her gaze. She handed Werewindle over to me, stating subtly but clearly that she had figured out who my father was, or at least had a fairly strong suspicion.

I quirked an eyebrow but accepted the sword with a nod. "If indeed she does intend to return, it would be foolish of me to reject a means of keeping her at bay. My thanks." And I was, indeed, grateful. It was my father's sword, after all, and in his absence I had the right to claim it, but Cerridwen and I both knew she could have made that difficult, especially since I still had no desire to publicly declare my father. I regarded the sword in my hands with a slight frown, trying to figure out a means of wearing it that would not look utterly ridiculous with my dress. Alas, there really was none. I was forced to content myself with strapping it to my back and using an illusion spell to hide it. I still felt ridiculous, but at least no one else would notice. And there was a certain feeling of security in having the sword close at hand. Not only for its Pattern traits, but for the other protective qualities that it possessed. Father had once told me that while he possessed it, nothing could harm him physically. Given that he was not much of a swordsman, this made a great deal of sense to me. Since I shared his distaste for physicality, I was sure I would find it equally beneficial.

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Last modified on January 17, 1999 by Kris Fazzari.