Chapter 25

Jack came round slowly. As the dull flickering light of the room swam into focus he made out the features of Lex sitting, cross-legged, on the floor in front of him.

"L-Lex?" Jack stammered, "What's going on?"

"Quite a lot," was the enigmatic reply, "but nothing you need to worry about, Jack. There is a lot you have to know though."

Jack looked around him. He was in a dark room, about the same size as Patch's office, but without the furniture. Behind him sat the young woman he had found out was Cat. Although there were only two other people in the room besides himself, Jack got the distinct feeling that he was sitting in the centre of a circle.

"Don't worry Jack," said Cat as he started to sit up, "we're here to help, not to harm. The harm has already been done by others."

"What harm? What are you talking about?" Jack sat up and craned his neck round, not wanting to turn his back on Lex, "Is this to do with my memory?"

"Yes. And a few other things. We've managed to find out a lot already, but there are some things we need you to tell us."

"Like what?"

"Like what is the last thing you remember, clearly, before waking up in the mall?"

"Ummmm, I don't know. A lot of it isn't clear. I mean, it's not like memories - just feelings. Does that make sense?"

"It does to us. Do you remember where you were before the mall?"

"The prison camp. I remember that. With Ellie."

"And then? Do you remember how you got out of the prison camp?"

"No. I get the feeling Ellie wasn't there, a-and something tells me she's dead, but I don't know what... I don't know why..."

Confusion creased Jack's brow and his eyes left Cat's face.

"What's going on? Why am I here? What have you done to me?" Jack cried, turning back to Lex.

"We haven't done anything, mate," Lex said, gently, "We're just trying to fix something someone else has done."

"Listen to me Jack," Cat called his gaze back to her, "There is a lot you must know and not all of it will be easy to understand. Even less of it will be easy to accept. You are a scientist: you work with the laws of physics; you understand only what you can explain in their terms. We work with other laws and you will have to try to put science aside in order to understand them."

"I'll try," Jack replied, transfixed by Cat's gaze.

"First, understand this: the eyes of heart and the eyes of the mind both see and hear in different ways. That is why you know things, yet have no memory of them. Secondly: the laws of physics and of science are not the only laws that rule the turning of the earth; the laws of nature and of magic also hold sway. In everything there is balance: night and day; fire and water; science and magic. You understand only science, as do most people. We, and those who have interfered with your mind, understand magic and how to use it. What they have put wrong, we wish to put right. Will you let us try?"

"Yes."

"I want you to think of Jetta."

"Who?"

"The girl who was brought to the mall when Lex brought you here."

"But I've never seen her..."

"Concentrate. Picture her in your mind. Can you see her now?"

"No, but..."

"Try. It doesn't matter that you didn't see her at the mall. The memory of her is within you. Look with your heart, not you mind. Your mind tells you that you do not know her and have never met her. It is lying to you. Listen to your heart."

"I..." Jack's brow wrinkled; the name did inspire a flicker of memory: a memory of a girl with blue hair...

"You see her?"

"Yes," Jack replied quietly, "but how..."

"Keep looking. The memory is within you. Only you can bring it forth."

"I know her..." Jack murmured, "I know her..."

"How do you know her, Jack?" Cat asked, "What is she to you?"

"Everything..."

"Close your eyes now, Jack. Close your eyes and remember."

Jack closed his eyes, unable to do anything else. Immediately, a flood of memories washed over him like water from a bursting dam. With the memories came pain. He cried out and clutched at his side, then collapsed onto the floor.

"Take him up to a side ward, Lex," Cat said, rising, "Don't leave him: he'll need you there when he wakes."

"What about Jetta?" Lex asked, picking up his friend, "Will this affect her?"

Cat looked as Jack's face for a moment, then shook her head.

"I doubt it. Not immediately anyway. They broke the bond from her end in a way that only Jack himself can fix. Until he is ready to face her, and until he can turn her mind back to him, she will remain in their power. At least he will remember now: that is all that we can do. Hurry, before he wakes. I will clear up here."

Lex turned and left the room. When he reached the ward, there were few people about and none between him and the door to one of the side wards. He slipped over to the door and let himself in, then laid Jack down on the empty bed. It hadn't been made, but that didn't matter: they shouldn't be there too long. Walking back to the door, he locked it and, pulling a chair over to the side of the bed, sat down to wait.

--

Tai San sat at Jetta's bedside as her husband sat at Jack's. The blue-haired girl was in a poor state, physically, but even worse mentally if Tai San's senses were right. The cuts, bruises and broken rib she could fix easily. The tears in the girl's aura were not so simple. It had taken her a while to learn how to use her sight properly, but even with the limited skill she had, she could see the dark colours winding round Jetta and the ragged, trailing rips in the girl's own aura. Someone, three someones to be precise, had battered a path through her defences to take complete control of her. There was no knowing how much permanent damage there was.

A movement startled Tai San out of her examination. Jetta was waking up. Walking over to the girl's side, she sat down on the bed and offered Jetta a glass of water.

"Thank you," Jetta replied, sitting up to take the glass from Tai San.

"How are you feeling?" Tai San asked.

"Like I've just been run over by a bus!"

"You have broken a rib. I have bound it as best I can, but I would advise you to stay here, in bed, and get plenty of rest."

"What about the hospital?"

"They will cope. Can I get you anything to eat? A book to read perhaps?"

"I'm starving! I wouldn't mind something to eat! Perhaps you could stay and fill me in on all the gossip: I'm sure I've got a lot to catch up on."

"Perhaps," Tai San rose, "but there has not really been much going on recently. I will get your food."

As Tai San stepped out of the room, she met Salene and Skye coming towards her.

"How is she?" Skye asked.

"She will be well," Tai San replied, smiling reassuringly at the young woman before her, "Her wounds are mostly superficial and exhaustion was the most likely cause of her collapse. There is a broken rib and many bruises to heal, but nothing life threatening. She is hungry though. Would you get her something? You know her tastes better than I."

Skye nodded and hurried off, leaving Tai San free to turn to Salene.

"Salene, you alone of all those in the mall right now know and understand what is really going on here, besides myself. For that reason, only you and I, and the others once they return, can have access to Jetta. Tell her nothing. Not even seemingly innocent gossip. She does not know of her condition, but that does not make her any less dangerous: if anything, it only makes her more so. She will ask innocent questions and expect innocent answers. The only answers it is safe to give her are evasive ones, such as "nothing much" or "not a lot"."

"I understand," Salene nodded, slowly, still wary of the unseen world she had been thrown into, "Do you want me to stay with her just now? You look like you could use a rest yourself and I don't think it's a great idea to leave her on her own."

"One of us must always be here," Tai San nodded, "if not inside the room, then outside the door, to make sure that she speaks to no-one else. I shall remain while she eats, but it would be odd if I hovered over her for the entire day. If you would come back and take over from me in an hour, we should be able to keep her free from suspicion until Lex returns at least."

--

May and her slowly dwindling entourage made their way into the city at last. A few more "players" had died during the last part of the journey and there were some that wouldn't last the night no matter what the hospital managed to do for them. The rest would last longer, but May wasn't sure how much.

"Straight to the hospital," May ordered her team, "As fast as we can. Let's get these people somewhere they can be helped."

Inside she added: "or just somewhere they can die in peace."

--

Jay spent most of the day wandering the city streets before finally reaching the mall. As he walked in he heard the sounds of familiar voices nearby. The voices stopped as he reached the fountain and were replaced by the sounds of running feet. In a moment, he was surrounded by familiar faces: Pride placing a supportive hand firmly on his shoulder; Trudy throwing her arms around him in a warm and comforting embrace; Brady trying to copy her mother, but only managing to hug his knees from behind and nearly knock him down; Amber, standing a little distance away, watching. He met her gaze and she looked away, shifting Bray from one shoulder to the other, then hurried off. Another young man, Sasha, Jay thought, met her as she hastened up the stairs and took the child from her before turning to accompany her up to the landing. The young Gaian Sasha had been walking down the stairs with stopped when he saw the scene, a flicker of emotion crossing his gently features, then continued to Trudy's side: Hawk, he thought.

When Trudy finally released her hold on Jay, and persuaded her daughter to do the same, Jay found he needed the support of Pride's hand to stop him falling backwards. When Trudy had finally finished telling him how well he looked and that if there was anything she could do, or if he ever wanted someone to talk to, just to let her know, Hawk managed to drag her away under the pretext of getting Brady some dinner. Once they had gone, Pride removed his hand.

"Come on," the tall Gaian said, quietly, "This way: it's quieter through here."

Jay followed Pride though a couple of corridors on the ground floor to a small room, one of the few in the mall with a proper door. Pride unlocked the door and stepped back to let Jay precede him into the room. A high window let in some light, but not much and Jay blinked when Pride turned on the lights and shut the door. The room was painted a green colour and contained a number of comfy chairs and a sofa, a round, wooden table surrounded by stools, a long, low table and a glass-fronted cabinet. On close inspection Jay found that the cabinet contained a number of bottles and glasses.

"What the..."

"Welcome to the 'den'!" Pride said, with a wry smile, "Not used much right now, but it has seen busier days."

"Whose room is this?" Jay asked. He had never seen it before and hadn't even been aware of its existence.

"Mine, Lex's, Slade's, Ryan's, yours. It's just a quite place for the guys of the mall to chill out in. It was Slade's idea. He and Lex built it, then proceeded to cream Patch, myself and occasionally Sasha at poker every chance they got, until Hawk decided to join us of course: even I can't tell when he's bluffing and I've known him for years!"

"I never knew it was here," Jay said, sitting down in one of the armchairs as Pride extracted a bottle and two glasses from the cabinet.

"Neither did I for a while. We were both... busy... when they built it. Patch was the first to be lured in: somewhere for him to relax while Slade and our wonderful City Leader taught him how to play poker. Ryan soon followed, of course. Sasha only found out after he got back. Hawk knew about it, but never really used it that much to begin with. It was Hawk that told me about it after... Well, when I needed somewhere to think and to be alone."

Jay accepted the glass from Pride and tasted its contents: whisky. He nodded in appreciation of both the spirit and of what Pride was trying to say: he had found this place useful after Salene lost the baby and while she was ill and he thought that Jay might also find it useful.

"Do the girls know about it?" Jay asked as Pride stretched out his long legs on the sofa.

"No, not so far as I know. At least, if they do, they haven't said anything."

"Isn't it rather Victorian, having a "men-only" room?"

"A bit, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't have one," Pride gestured with his free hand, "This place is getting rather busy after all and, much as they may argue otherwise, the girls do seem to have effectively turned that nursery into a "women-only" room! Hawk is the only adult male who ever gets in there, whether there are kids in there or not!"

"So what do you do down here?"

"Oh, we play poker, a few other card games, share a drink occasionally, read, chat..."

"You mean gossip!"

"Er, yes, men can be just as bad as women at times: we just like to convince ourselves that what we're having is called a "serious, private conversation" rather than "gossip"! Besides, where else is it safe to talk about the girls. Or anything else for that matter..."

Jay caught what he was hinting at.

"I've named them, you know," he said, after a long pause, "Ebony and Ivory. They're so different, I can't believe they're twins! One, Ivory, is really pale, with fair hair and grey eyes. The other, E-Ebony..." Jay paused again, looking down at his drink, "she has my eyes, but her skin and hair are so dark!"

"I can't say I know exactly how you feel Jay," Pride said, slowly, "because I don't; but I do understand it a bit. We're on two sides of the same problem: I lost my child; you lost your children's mother. We're both grieving, but we're both wondering why one could live, and the other could not. It's selfish, because it makes us sound as though we don't understand why mother and child didn't both die, but in reality it's just the opposite: we don't understand why they didn't both survive. Am I right?"

Jay nodded, silently. There were tears on his own face, but he could also hear the other man's voice shake as he spoke. That was why they were both here. Both of them had gone through, were going through, that strange form of grief that is almost inseparable from the guilt that follows it; both needed to know that they were not alone.