Lacy Steed was having what was arguably the best day in her life. Well, she actually counted the best day in her life as when she had been adopted, but she had been a little baby then. You couldn't remember anything at all when you were only a few weeks old, so she decided that her thirteenth birthday was simply the best day in her memory.
To start with her father had presented her with a new set of pastels. This had thrilled her; even with her father's money such expensive things had been very hard to find in that decade. Now that things were getting so much better she had been thrilled at the pastels, as well as the smooth paper. Lacy would've drawn something immediately but he had then given her something else; bright red hair ribbons.
It had all been too much and she'd rushed to hallway mirror to tie them in her golden ringlets. Her father had watched her from the doorway, smiling at how happy the ribbons made her. She turned her hair this way and that. Many people had told her if she didn't wear her thick coke bottle glasses, which she needed to see, then she'd resemble Shirley Temple quite a bit.
However, now that she had turned thirteen she was starting to think herself a little too grown up to be compared to Shirley Temple. So it was wonderful when her friends told her that her red ribbons resembled Judy Garland's in the movie. Her blue messenger bag that she had put her pastels and paper in was also compared to her, and she had smiled modestly.
This had brought her to yet another reason why it was so wonderful; her friends had surprised her with tickets to go see The Wizard of Oz. While she had enjoyed the movie greatly she couldn't help snickering under her breath at Glinda, mostly because she resembled her father's friend Bianca. She couldn't even begin to imagine Bianca wearing anything like that cotton candy garment.
The cartoons had been pretty good beforehand too, even if she had missed some to go get popcorn. At the last minute her friends had cautioned her not to eat too much though. The soda fountain that they ushered her to after the movie was her explanation, and that's when they gave her their gift; a beautiful bracelet that they had all pitched in for.
She had blushed and smiled when Robin had put it on her. Despite being a year older he had smiled back. She was sincerely flattered by this, and her friend Jessica had whispered that the bracelet had been his idea. This had made her blush a little more, which from Jessica's smug look meant that she would be getting teased for it later.
After that she had thanked her friends profusely for getting it for her until Rosamund and William came to fetch her. She saw the car outside of the window and regretfully got up and bid her friends farewell. Instead of saying it back they saw her to the door of the car, making sure to remind her that they had choir practice on Monday. The competitions were coming up, and she did enjoy it.
"Thanks for being inconspicuous back there," Lacy said, getting into the back seat of the Cadillac.
"Why Lacy," admonished Rosamund, grinning, "We weren't there at all."
"No need to pretend you weren't the usher to the theater and an assistant at the soda fountain," shrugged Lacy, getting her paper and pastels out of her messenger bag, "You've been around doing these things since I was six. I'm used to it."
Rosamund smiled at her and she saw William grin from the driver's seat. Lacy started to settle herself down comfortably in the back and shuffle through her gifts. One by one she showed them off to Rosamund, who busied herself retying Lacy's hair ribbons. Then William turned a left and onto a side road.
.
.
.
Balthazar surveyed the wreckage of the Cadillac out of the corner of his eye as he finished his circle. It had been hit from the rear first if he was any judge of it. After that the left side had been hit, but whoever had been inside had gotten a shield up first. A door was open, and then the whole thing was crushed almost as flat as a piece of paper.
That was the order of events as far as he could figure. At least the bodies of Rosamund Curtis and William Jenkins, Lacy's bodyguards, had been removed before he arrived. Two had seemed excessive to him, especially since they had been powerful from what he had been told. There had also been several known Morganian bodies removed, which seemed odd since there were so many of them.
Still, he was in no position to say for sure. Anything else that happened was to be determined by the rather lengthy spell that he was drawing up now. Well, he had drawn up about half of it. The rest had been done by the six people standing awkwardly and worriedly around him. Several had put up wards on the area, anxious to seal it off from prying eyes. Many talked in hushed whispers, but only two were completely silent.
One was a boy who he judged to be about fourteen. He was standing somewhat away from the rest, his arms folded tightly across his chest. His head was tilted to the ground, looking ashamed. A woman stood next to him, possibly his sister, muttering things. Balthazar didn't know what that was about, but he had the feeling that he was going to find out soon.
The other silent member was watching Balthazar's work to make sure that it matched his own. John Steed was a Merlinian of considerable power, but a spell that was used to reconstruct an event of this size required someone who was much higher than a sorcerer of the six-hundredth degree. His fists were clenched and his eyes that spoke volumes about what he was going to do whenever he caught who was responsible. Every now they flickered to the young boy before returning to Balthazar's work.
John Steed was what could reasonably be defined as a friend, which was probably stretching the definition of the word. Ally was probably a good deal more accurate, or perhaps a friendly mutual understanding. John and Balthazar both had the kind of aura around them which pushed almost all others to a good arm's length.
To the best of his knowledge John was part of what was being called 'The Lost Generation'. He and his older brother, after that said brother had lost his magic in a freak electrical accident, had hopped a boat to Europe and volunteered to fight in the Great War. It had been against their father's wishes, and both soon found out why.
The knowledge that Merlinians weren't supposed to show their magic in front of mortals was restrictive. Few had been the times when John had been able to use healing spells to save the lives of his friends in the trenches, or to shield their area from shrapnel. There was also the pounding barrage which it would've taken a man made of metal to have a clear mind. Of course, no spell probably would've been able to prevent his brother getting shot in the head next to him.
When John had finally returned home, battered and suffering a lack of faith in humanity, he found that his father and mother had died only weeks before his return in a car crash. So, at the age of twenty-two in 1918 John Steed found himself drifting and in possession of a good deal of money. Searching for a purpose he had thrown himself into magic. Soon he found himself fighting to keep the Merlinians in Manhattan organized against a rising Morganian group who wished the city to become their kind of town in every sense of the phrase.
Through sheer force of personality he managed to stamp the group down until there was very little that remained of it. He had a hand in the building of the Chrysler building, putting wards into its very foundations and making it a base for Merlinians. It was about this time that Balthazar had first come into his acquaintance, the situation in New York had been very dire after all. He had also formed the opinion that he should watch the man.
John had only been about two steps away from being a Morganian at the best of times. A man like that needed a reason to live so he didn't take those final steps. For Balthazar it was the dragon in his right pocket and the doll locked up safely in his hotel room, or more precisely of the woman who was in it. However, John hadn't seemed to have a reason.
That is, and this was a secondhand version, until the winter of 1926. John had gone to find one of his co-workers at a shelter where they were volunteering, only to find something else entirely. He had reached over a small bassinet to get something on the shelf behind it, and felt a hand curl around the hem of his coat. John had looked down at the bright blue eyes of a small girl, born a few weeks before to a nameless mother who had died during the delivery.
Only a week later the adoption papers had been filled out with the girl being given the name Lacy Rebecca Steed. Five years later Balthazar had come back to the city and found himself summoned by John by telegraph. Somewhat surprised that anyone had even known that he was back he had duly answered the summons.
John had said little that didn't have to do with quashing the remaining factions of Morganians in the city. At one point though a sleepy blonde child had wandered into the room and he had smiled before scooping her up and excusing himself to tuck her in. He'd asked John a few more questions when he came back, and had been more than satisfied that he wasn't going to have to be dealing with another Morganian traitor.
That was the last he had heard of him, besides that morning when he had received another telegraph saying that his daughter was missing under suspicious circumstances. He would've been surprised that the man knew he was there, but he doubted that anything happened in the city that John didn't know about. Finishing the spell he walked by the man in question. The other sorcerers, seeing that it was go time, quickly took up their positions. In a few bursts of light the area became slightly fuzzy.
The Cadillac, in mint condition, turned a left into the side street. A figure stepped out from the sidewalk and blasted it with a plasma bolt from the rear. The car flipped over from the impact but whoever was inside managed to slow its motion so it landed on the wheels, but it banged into the wall. William and Rosamund quickly got out, dragging who he could only guess was Lacy behind them. Another man came from another side of the street and pushed down on the air, but missed so that it was the car that was damaged again.
Rosamund threw herself over Lacy and erected a shield. William had taken off his chauffer's cap and was furiously casting spells at the two men. They both went down easily enough and he leaned over, panting slightly. A spell hit William from the side, cast by an unknown sorcerer. Blood spurted into the air and William crumpled.
Lacy screamed and he felt John tense beside him. Rosamund picked Lacy up like she was a doll and started running, keeping her shield up. A vine was conjured from the pavement beneath her and wrapped itself around her ankle. She threw Lacy from her as it snaked up her leg. She started to cast a few spells to combat it before screaming out;
"Lacy, get out of here!"
The young girl hesitated for a moment. Rosamund thrust out with her magic, giving her a good push. After that Lacy needed no encouragement and took off at a breakneck pace. For such a delicate looking girl she could run quite fast. Balthazar winced as he saw the vine that had been holding Rosamund go down her throat and burst out of her stomach. He actually heard a retching noise from the younger boy and a few of the others assembled.
Turning on his heel John went and followed after Lacy's shadowy form. Balthazar followed too, trying to make sure that John didn't outstrip the magic. The girl ran into a nearby warehouse and they followed. She shut the door and leaned up against it, tears running down her cheeks and looking terrified.
That's when he saw it. A golden light started to turn in her eyes a little.
"So that's how a Seer has visions?" asked Balthazar, who had never seen it before.
"Most of the time," John said shortly, "Sometime she has a fit too."
Lacy knelt down and opened her messenger bag. Pastels and paper came flying out of it and she started to frantically scribble.
"She draws her visions?" Balthazar asked.
"Says it's easier than writing them down," answered John quietly, "She knew she wasn't going to be able to get home. That's the only reason she'd stop like this."
She tilted her head up and Balthazar had the feeling that she was looking at them, the gold still coming from her eyes. It was only compounded when she said;
"Papa…I…"
John clenched his fist as Lacy's shadow walked up to him. Balthazar looked away when her shadow hugged the spot where her father would be standing in a few hours. Then her footsteps echoed away and she picked up her messenger bag again, putting the piece of paper on a shelf. Then she took a deep breath and ran out the back door. Blue light poured from the outside and her scream was the last thing they heard before the magic faded.
Giving a small moan John put a hand on his forehead. Deciding not to waste any more time Balthazar went over to where she had laid her paper. He sucked in a breath and then glared back at John.
"What are you hiding?" he snapped.
"What do you mean?" John asked, looking up.
"Two bodyguards," Balthazar said, "Normally I'd dismiss it as over-protective, but you thought she'd need them."
"What are you getting at?" snapped John.
"Even as your daughter, and you've got plenty of enemies, and a Seer Lacy would need to be something considerably more important to attract his attention."
He straightened out the picture and showed it to John. It portrayed a man standing in the alleyway behind the warehouse, brandishing a glowing blue cane and wearing a coat trimmed in fur. Horvath.