Episode 7: Test


Cianna stood near Ian in front of Irons' desk. Irons sat with his back to them. Cianna looked nervously from Ian to the back of Irons' chair. She had been invited to discuss Sara's condition. She had not been able to get Sara to let her into her apartment or to even speak to her. Since John's death she had shut herself up.

Irons turned to face them. "How is she?"

"Sara has not left her loft in 4 days," Ian replied. "She has not bathed. She has not called anyone. She has not eaten anything. Last night while she slept, I filled her kitchen with all her favorite foods. Whether she accepts the nourishment is anyone's guess."

"She won't answer the door," Cianna said. "And I haven't had the heart to sneak in while she is awake."

"Your appraisal?" Irons asked.

"I am concerned for her." Cianna replied.

"What is your analysis?" Irons said to Ian.

"Deep depression, desperate grief, a broken heart," Ian raised his head. "She may try and end her life."

"What is your recommendation?" Irons turned his chair back around.

A stabbing pain started in Cianna's wrist then traveled quickly up her arm and intisifed in her chest.


Ian watched Cianna double over in silent pain. He reached out to keep her from falling into the desk. Irons swirled his chair around and leaned forward.

"Cianna?" Irons said in what to Ian sounded like a failed attempt to be concerned.

"I'm fine," she straightened up and waved Irons away. "Its going to begin soon."

"Can I get you anything?" Ian asked softly as Irons stood and moved to the window.

"Yeah," she replied. "Get me out of here."

"Ian, make sure Cianna gets home safely," Irons said.

"Goodday Kenneth," Cianna moved toward the door.

Ian followed her. She walked unsteadily, and he had to keep her from falling several times on the way to her car. She handed him the keys, then settled into the passenger seat. Ian closed her door then walked around the car to get behind the wheel.

"Thanks," she said. "I wasn't looking forward to experiencing the start of the test in his office."

Ian started the car and moved it into the flow of traffic. AT a stoplight he turned to speak to Cianna but she had fallen asleep. He sighed and drove towards Sara's apartment. If he was going to have to watch them both he might as well see to it that they are in the same place. It would make his life easier, and maybe distract Sara from her mourning.


Sara lay in bed. Her phone started to ring. Finally the machine picked it up.

"Sara, pick up," Jake said over the machine. "C'mon, I know you're there. Pez, it's your partner. All right. I'm not saying I can't handle things without you. I'm just saying, you know, sometimes work is the best antidote for the kind of loss you're going through. Take it out on the bad guys, you know. Pez, it all comes down to this. Conchobar's the one who died, not you.

"Are you sure?" Sara said rolling away from the machine and pulling the sheet over her head as it clicked off.


Jake was flooded with files and phone calls. Things just kept pilling up. There was a knock at the door. Dante came into the office.

"It's a pretty long ride from the Bonzai Pipeline to all this, huh, surfer boy?"

"Yeah," Jake said. "It's this damn Irish Massacre. I can't get caught up on the paper."

"Oh," Dante replied. "It's a tough case, especially without a partner."

"Ah, I got Lubin and Hellstrom working with me till Sara gets back."

"How is Miss Pezzini?"

"Good," Jake looked down at a file. "She'll be back soon ... maybe even today."


Sara awoke in a cold sweat from a dream she couldn't remember. She felt something strange on her right arm. She pulled back the sheet Tendrils from the Witchblade were weaving their way up her arm. As she watched the tendrils moved over more of her body. She jumped slightly as the phone started ringing again. She tried to reach for the phone but the tendrils pulled her down hard into the bed. The machine finally picked up.

"Pezzini," Gabe said. "It's Gabriel. I know you've got to be really bummed about losing Conchobar. I don't know, I just wanted to do something to make you feel better. So, I dug up some new information about that bracelet of yours. Think you want to know. Call me. Oh, and if you see Ci, tell her to call me cause I can't get a hold of her."

"No, no," Sara said. "Don't hang up!"

Danny appeared. He was wearing a Chinese style silk tunic and his hair is pulled back.

"Nice outfit," Sara said.

"You, too," her dead partner replied.

Sara looked at the tendrils that now covered a large portion of her body. "This thing has gone crazy, Danny. You gotta help me."

"That's why I'm here," he sat on the bed next to her.

"Why is it doing this to me?"

"Why do you think?" Danny replied.

"I don't know," Sara sighed. "Maybe the Witchblade is punishing me for abandoning it."

"You didn't abandon it."

"I gave it to someone."

"But you had too," Danny replied. "Maybe you shouldn't have taken it back."

"I didn't," Sara said. "I woke up and it was back on my arm. Danny, I'm really scared."


Jake was escorted into Irons' office by a short woman. Irons stood in front of a weather map of the globe. Jake pulled out his badge "Mr. Irons..."

"Seven major storm systems roam the globe as we speak," Irons replied. "Seven."

"Detective McCartey, NYPD Homicide."

"It's a record. A fluke or a miracle. What do you think it means?"

"I'm partners with Sara," Jake continued.

"I know exactly who you are," Irons finally turned to look at him. Don't worry. I've already corroborated your lie."

"Excuse me?"

"Your captain called me. Sara Pezzini was here that day taking my deposition in the Dominique Boucher case. All day."

Jake stared at him for a moment. "Why did you back up my story?"

"I have the utmost respect for Sara," Irons began guiding Jake towards the door. "And if her partner needed to account reliably for her whereabouts on a given date and time, I'm sure there was a very good reason. Well, don't thank me, Detective. When I need a favor in return, I won't hesitate to ask. If you'll excuse me?"

The door slid shut between Jake and Irons.


Sara struggled against the bonds that held her. She couldn't breath.

"I know this is going to sound lame, but you have to relax," Danny said. "You're not going to help by fighting against it. Easy for me to say, huh? Just think of your breath. There's no effort involved. Just make a place for it and the air will flow into you. Let your heart find its own rhythm. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Sara relaxed. Taking deep breath, she felt air easily fill her lungs. Someone picked up her hand and kissed it. She looked down to see that is was Danny. "Oh, my God."

"What?!"

"My hand," Sara replied. "You're holding my hand."

"Does that bother you?" Danny asked.

"Yeah, it bothers me. I haven't been able to even touch you since you know."

"Since I died," Danny said. "We can touch each other now, Sara, because you're dying, too."

Ian retunred to Irons' office after putting Cianna in Sara's apartment. Sara had been talking to someone at the time, but he dared not check on her.

"The periculum," Irons collapsed into a chair. "It has begun."

"Then Sara's a true wielder after all," Ian replied.

"I believe the trial entails some testing."

"Do we want Sara to succeed or do we want Sara to fail?"

"Her failure would end her life," Irons said. "And I don't want Cianna to have the Witchblade.:

"In that case, to Sara's success," Ian walked closer to Irons.

"Yet, throughout her initiation, she has been intractable, headstrong, stubborn. If fully empowered by the periculum, she might become impossible to manipulate."

"You controlled Elizabeth Bronte."

"I killed Elizabeth Bronte," Irons said. "Go to her. She needs you ... I don't. Go on. It's what you want anyway."
Ian turned and left.


Cianna found herself laying in a grassy meadow. She wore a black gown and with a red scarf wrapped around her shoulders and head. Before her stood three figures each with Sara's face. It was Cathian, Joan, and Elizabeth Bronte. Cianna moved quickly to her feet.

"Hello, my child," Cathian said.

"The Periculm." Cianna replied.

"Do not worry," Elizabeth said. "She has already passed."

"Then why am I here?" Cianna asked.

"To see if you are ready," Joan said. "For that which is ahead."


Jake walked up to a table where Dante was already sitting. He had been surprised when he had been invited to have a beer with the Captain.

"Hey, hey, hey," Dante said. "Thanks for coming. Did you get some of that paperwork off your desk?"

"Yeah, I'm making some headway," Jake sat down and picked up the beer that was on the table infront of him.

"Good, good, good. Hey, I gotta hand it to ya. I really thought I had her this time."

"Why do you want her so bad?"

"Well, Pezzini and me, we go way back," Dante said. "I mean, actually her dad and I go way back. Didn't have the talent to do the job and rise, so he stuck his nose up everybody's ass all the time."

"That's not Sara's fault," Jake relied.

"Yeah, she's got the gene, though. I can smell it."

"Whatever."

"Yeah," Dante laughed. "Yeah, whatever. He shot my partner."

"What?" Jake nearly spit out the beer he'd just drunk.

"Yeah, yeah. Jim Pezzini got hooked on a hooker who happened to be a favorite of a guy I was riding with."

"Get out."

"Yeah," Dante said. "It was one of those lover's quarrels, you know? Romantic triangles. And on a vice raid, Jim Pezzini put one right between Ralph's eyes. Yeah, the Review Board whitewashed it as an accident."

"OK," Jake replied. "But persecuting Sara doesn't ..."

"You know what? I really admire your loyalty, McCartey. I really do. Even if it is misplaced. I'm just saying, she ain't right, that one."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," Dante said. "So could Danny Woo."


Sara found herself in a strange tent. She was wearing a white gown with a white scarf around her shoulders and head. An exocticly dressed woman walked into the tent.

"Fear not," the woman pulled back her hood around reveled to have Sara's face.

"Who are you?" Sara said.

"Septima Zenobia," the woman replied smiling slightly. "Sara, you have passed this test before."

"I don't understand."

"You have been in the Periculm before, and you passed. Then you had to reverse time, but it was reversed differently for some. One in your life now was not there before."

"Cianna?"

"Very good," Septima sat down in a chair. "The first time you lived this life, her flight was cancelled. But the Witchblade saw fit to have her around this time. She is the key to preventing a repeat of the end you and many others meet before."

A knocks at the door pulled Sara from the scene. Before she could say anything, another tendril covered her mouth, muffling her cries.

"Hey, Sara. It's me, Gabriel. Open up."

She struggled to respond.

"Hey!" Gabe said. "You alive in there? Open the door. Well, like I said, I found out some more about the blade. Something about this gnarly test of worthiness it forces on its users. It ain't pretty, especially if you fail. If you wanna talk, or get a cup of coffee, or something, just gimme a call, OK?

Sara tried to scream again. But no more sounds came from the door.


Ian sat on the fire escape. From his vantage point he could see both Sara who was struggling at her bonds as well as Cianna who slept peacefully on the couch. Lightening flashed before him, and for a second he could see someone in the window looking at him. He turned around ready to defend the two ladies helpless inside the apartment. But noone was there.
"So, I'm not the only one looking out for her," Ian said. "Watch them well."

Ian left the fire escape.


"Why are you here, Jake?" Dante asked sipping at his beer.

"Cause you told me to meet you." Jake replied confused.

"No, no, no," Dante said. "I mean why are you a cop?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"I'm a neat freak," Jake replied. "I want to make my little corner of this whole insane world a little more orderly."

"I've heard worse reasons," Dante said.

"What about you?"

"Nothing else ever seemed worth doing. This is a sacred trust, a brotherhood."

"I agree," Jake said.

"OK," Dante replied. "If you agree that this is a brotherhood, why are you protecting Pezzini?"

"Because she's one of us."

"You think so?

"I know so."

"I had Orlinsky run an errand for me the other day," Dante said. "I cut a deal with a local pimp to turn over one of his girls. A runaway, her parents were looking for her. Pezzini saw Jerry picking up the girl before work. She took pictures and she threatened to use them, like it was some kind of payoff. And not just with I.A. , but with his wife. Is that being one of us?"

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Cause you and I are the same guy. We're the ones who hold this whole mess together. Underpaid, underappreciated."

"You got that right."

"There are a lot of good cops in this unit. Family men. Huh? Risking their lives every day. And for what? Huh? A couple thousand dollars a year? You can't send your kid to community college on the money that we make."

"You got a solution for that?"

Sara found herself walked into a large bedroom. A man, asleep, lay on the bed. He rolled over and she gasped as she saw his face.

"Nottingham?" Sara said.

"No," a woman came into the room. "He is Anthony and he can not hear us."

"Cleopatra?"

"Yes, Sara," Cleopatra said.

"I'm you reincarnated, that is why we have the same face."

"The idea of reincarnation comes from a natural sense that there is more to this world than we can taste or touch. Unfortunately, it misses the main point," Cleopatra said

"Which is?"

"Time," Cleopatra replied. "You think of time as if it were a straight line, like a road, with the past at one end and the future at the other. The metaphor is seductive, but it's highly misleading. The world was flat till we discovered it was round. You must break your old paradigm of time, Sara. Both past and future are contained in the eternal present."

"Yeah, yeah," Sara sighed. "I saw The Terminator. It made my head hurt."

"Better example than you realize. Think of your reels of motion picture film. Each frame is a lifetime, but all of them exist at once. If you run it through the projector of human consciousness..."

"You create continuity."

"No, the illusion of continuity," Cleopatra said. "But if you think of the reel wound just so, some of the frames touch other frames. From one frame through another, any frame can be reached, but all of them exist at once."

"So," Sara said. "Time is just a matter of perception?"

"I am not from your past, Sara, nor you from my future. Both of our lifetimes exist right now."

"So, I'm not your reincarnation, I'm you."

"As I am you, and we are each of the other wielders. Remember this and use it."


Ian walked back into Irons' office.

"Why aren't you with them?" Irons asked from the floor.

"There's nothing I can do for them."

"You can protect her from others who would harm them," Irons seem to try to make himself comfortable.

"She's already got a guardian angel," Ian said. "And Cianna is safe with her."

"You never used to second-guess my judgments. You were the perfect scalpel. Sharp, precise, directable."

"I am nothing but what you made me!" Ian shouted. "Now I have the capacity to evolve. It's only because you gave it to me."

"Hollow words, Ian."


"You ever hear of the Praetorian Guard?" Dante asked.

"Roman soldiers, right?" Jake replied. "Elite fighters?"

"The hand-picked bodyguards of the Caesars. But eventually they became so powerful that they could overthrow the Caesars if they felt it was right. Now, could you imagine belonging to a unit like that?"

"Big responsibility."

"We already shoulder that responsibility, whether you know it or not," Dante said. "What I'm suggesting is we embrace it."

"Maybe I've had one too many. Could you be a little more specific?

"This is a one-time-only invitation to join a group of policemen who understand the gravity of their job and who reap the harvest fairly. Just to make this insane world a little more orderly."

"You mean you're vigilan..." He paused as the waitress brought them more beers.

"Thanks," Dante said. He waited for the woman to leave before he continued. "No. Sara Pezzini's a vigilante. She's a solo act. These men are a team. Men of conscience. These are officers entrusted by society to protect society. And we protect each other." Dante handed Jake a bullet.

".45 Magnum," Jake said. "I use a 9 mil."

"Look closer." There was a bull engraved on the bullet. "It's our totem, our talisman. We call ourselves the White Bulls."

"Why a bull?"

"You know what the bull symbolizes?" Dante asked.

"Power, masculinity, manure?" Jake laughed. "So how's it work?"

"When someone is obviously guilty and the system can't be trusted to administer justice, we use one of these bullets," Dante explained. "Now, if you ever find a casing like this at a murder scene, just walk away. And if there's fruit to harvest, we take it. We watch each others' backs."

"Damn."

"Yeah."


Cianna had talked to Cathain, Joan, and Elizabeth for sometime. She now remembered how things had gone for her the first time. How her flight had been cancelled and she had returned to her apartment in Los Angles. She even now knew how things had gone for Sara the first time around. Speaking of Sara, she appeared in the clearing.

"Hey," Sara said.

"Hello," Cianna replied. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Yeah," Sara said. "All of it."

"Everyone you cared about died," Cianna sighed. "And I was stuck in LA."

"Wasn't your fault."

"You needed me here," Cianna protested. "I should have sensed that. I should have been here."

"It literally doesn't matter now," Sara replied.

"Things may not end the same way this time," Elizabeth spoke up. "You are both ready to face what is ahead of you."

Cathian placed her hands on Cianna's shoulders. "I am so proud of you. You have come across the time you were born for. You will not fail."


The bar was nearly empty by now. Jake looked at the bullet letting everything Dante had told her sink in.

"The White Bulls," Jake said. "Pretty damn hard-core. Risking everything for your ideals. Not a lot of people would do that."

"Not just ideals, Jake," Dante replied. "What we risk everything for is people."

"That's very noble."

"Nah, not really," Dante said. "Considering the first people we take care of is each other."

"So you what? Skim the first count at a robbery? Cop some drugs? A little protection here, a little graft there?"

"Jake, what do you think happens to stolen money that we recover? Say, you know, drug money. After a trial?"

"Never thought about it."

"It gets destroyed," Dante replied. "Incinerated. Now why shouldn't it keep my dad out of a home or send your kid to NYU? Huh? Now, you wanna call that stealing? I don't."

"What do you call it?" Jake asked.

"Justice. Balancing the scales," Dante said picking up their bill. "Now as I said to you, this invitation is offered to you one time and one time only."

"And what if I say no," Jake said.

"Well," Dante said standing. "We'll both forget this conversation ever took place."

Jake stood. "That sounds like a threat."

"We never threaten," Dante headed towards the door. "We have a code and we never break it."

"How was I chosen?"

"Very carefully. We never invite anyone to join who doesn't accept."

Jake followed out the door. "Hell of a day."

"Yeah," Dante said. "A life changer."

"How long do I have to decide whether to come to your party?"

"Well, the samurai say a decision should be made in seven heartbeats. We're going to give you a little longer, but not much."

"If I agree," Jake said. "Then what?"

" Well," Dante replied. "Every good thing has its price. There would be an initiation of sorts. A way for you to outwardly display the change that has taken place inside you. Kind of a baptism."

"By fire?"

"We'll discuss it when you accept. But I'll tell you one thing. Your price of admission will concern Sara Pezzini." Dante walked off.


Danny was waiting for Sara and Cianna when they woke up. The tendrils were gone from around Sara. She slipped off the bed and pulled on a pair of jeans.

"You made it," Danny said. "Though I knew you would."

"You knew about the time reversal," Cianna smiled at him.

"Of course," Danny replied.

Sara went to Danny to hug him.

"We can't touch any more, Sara," Danny backed away from her. "You can see into my world, but you don't live here."

"What do you mean?" Sara asked.

"You're no longer dying," Danny replied.

"You're right, Danny, because I'm not afraid to. Not any more," Sara put an arm around Cianna. "We have a job to do, together. And we still need your help."


Ian watched Cianna and Sara talk for a while before returning to Irons.

"It's over," he said when he entered the office. "They are alive."

"Sara and the Witchblade are now one," Irons replied. "How do you feel about that?"

"Proud of her, both of them actually," Ian said. "And honored to live in such an interesting time."

"That makes our job more difficult. We can no longer take the Witchblade away from fair Sara, should it come to that. We would have to take her."

"Is that even possible?" Ian asked.

"Something tells me you will be the very first to know. Leave now. I'm busy."

Ian departed the office. Late that night he sat outside of Cianna's apartment. She was asleep. He was surprised that she was, considering that she had slept for a long time today. She rolled over and kicked the top sheet off herself. Ian started to turn away until he noticed the tendrils wrapped around her. As he watched, the tendrils sunk into her skin.