Chapter 28

After a good night's sleep, they wake with the coming of daylight, and Catherine is already excited.

'I've always wanted to ride a horse, Nelly's were never used for riding, just for farm work. Let's go, I can't wait!'

Vincent can't help but smile at such enthousiasm, with such a tiny body riding will be quite an effort, even sitting in front of an adult. But her happiness is very catching, and Vincent realizes he has never seen her so obviously carefree before. A toddler, constantly aware of danger around her? That is just heartbreaking, they really need to find that lady and convince her to leave them be, willy-nilly.

But not now, they are safe here, outside the reach of the enemy, and they are going to spend a week in carefree enjoyment, starting with a ride through the country. They'll all have muscle cramps tomorrow, but Catherine will have her ride. And so will he, frankly he is looking forward to riding as much as his girl is.

It is great fun to go riding together, Adison astride, very indecent to the rest of the world, but quite normal to Vincent, Cathy used to ride astride in their better days, before her father died and Hindley came back.

What?

No flashback, just a normal memory, of someone he never actually knew?

Purposely concentrating on Adison, Vincent can see she is having more difficulty finding her balance than he has, but still she copes admirably, and Catherine is sitting in front of her granddad with glee, holding on to Sparkles' mane fearlessly. The estate is very beautiful, very well-kept despite Thomas' age, he must have a good steward, or be an expert manager himself.

They cannot ride more than an hour without getting totally stiff with the unfamiliar exercise, but in that time they manage to work up to a little canter, and whilst Thomas keeps Sparkles back, Adison and Vincent gallop over a few hills, Adison knowing exactly where to go, of course.

To think she grew up here, and chose to live in London as a nurse, though of course despite her having lived here most of her life, none of it is actually hers, on her father's death everything will revert to her brother, whom she hasn't seen for at least five years, probably more. Leaving Adison to live of his charity, at his mercy for the rest of her life.

Seen that way, Vincent can easily understand that her current life is a much better choice. All in all, freedom is a better choice than wealth, and of course she has added love to her life, being independent also means marrying where she likes. For Vincent has no doubt that if her father had refused his consent, they would have married eventually in defiance of him, once she turned twenty-one. Adison and himself are meant to be together, nothing can stop their love.

Adison's hair flows behind her as she gallops beside him, her elegant little riding horse keeping up easily with his larger but heavier cob. Her face mirrors his own, total exhilaration, speeding like this feels heady. She is beautiful, his lovely small lady, and so strong and sweet. The horses tire soon, they're clearly not used to hard work, and they circle back until they see grandfather and granddaughter again, deep in conversation, Sparkles ambling on, though pricking up his ears at the sight of his stable mates running towards him.

Thomas does rein him in a little, good, he's taking no chances with Catherine in front of him.

They turn back towards the stables altogether, ready for coffee. Vincent offers to help with the horses, but the stablehand is glad to do the work himself, he doesn't have to exercise two spirited horses today, saving him at least two hours of work.

Vincent is looking forward to meeting Thomas' friends tonight, he has already heard a lot about them from Adison, there are four of them, three men and a lady, all over sixty years old by now. Apparently, they choose a subject each time they meet and discuss that amongst them, reviewing all the sides they can think of. But since this is the first time they have seen Adison in years, they have decided not to discuss anything but just to chat with her and her husband.

After his reception by Thomas, and yes, his conversation with Adison yesterday evening in bed, Vincent is not afraid of meeting Thomas' friends, more enlightened souls than they are probably nowhere to be found in the country. And anyway, Adison was right, Mr Alexander and Mr Wilde didn't blink at the looks of him, they seemed in fact eager to see him play.

Maybe he is a bit oversensitive, but who wouldn't be if they saw skin devoid of any colour in the mirror, and eyes the colour of a bird of prey's, with the same intense gaze.

To be totally frank, he got worse glares when he was still swarthy as a gipsy, eyes black but no less intense. Actually, the people gawking at him were often actively hostile, the people in Gimmerton looked down on him, even hated him without knowing him, just because he looked different than they did.

That changed when he came to London, people were not so afraid of the exotic there, and women started to eye him with interest, his proud stance and yes, the suppressed violence in him, it attracted them like a beacon.

Looking about, he sees Adison in front of him, and he waves her to come over for a moment. When she is walking beside him he says: 'Remember your father's advice?'

'About recording your memory returning?'

'Yes,' Vincent replies, 'I think I have the ultimate entry: I remembered facts of my former life twice today, but without flashback. Just as memories offer themselves, un-asked for, almost randomly, and very detailed but without feelings attached to them.

I remembered that Cathy always rode astride before her father died and Hindley returned, and I remembered getting nasty looks all the time and comments on my swarthy gipsy appearance when living near Gimmerton, and attracting a lot of interest of the ladies once I moved to London. Do you think my memory has returned in full? Just like that?'

Adison does not look happy.

'What is the problem, Adison? It's good to have my memory back without having to live it all, isn't it?'

'Things happen as they will, Vincent, but you are so different from Heathcliff, will they be your memories returned, or someone else's intruding on your new life? You'll certainly be a lot safer, remembering people you have known instantly, but what if his character starts influencing you?'

Stopping dead in his tracks, he takes her in his arms, and replies: 'I didn't think of that, but I promise I'll keep telling you everything, we'll work it out together.

I'm going to spend an hour digging up memories, see if I can find out who the master is, whether he is a man or something else, where he stands in the pecking order of evil, and most of all, whether it is him behind these new attacks. Maybe the real enemy is someone or something else?'

'Vincent, this is why the creature made his last appearance yesterday, he must have been your link to your memories from before death, somehow. I've never seen you cry, not even when in agony.'

Startled, he remarks: 'I didn't ever, did I? I guess I never felt the need with you close to me, you always made my pain and fear bearable. My other self must have sensed this happening, he did me one last service, making me admit to my fears, so you'd understand.'

Then he adds: 'I cried for days after Cathy died, I had nothing left to live for.'

Realizing what he just said, he looks at Adison in dismay: 'This is what you meant. I remember as if it was me, which makes him part of me. I've never loved Cathy, I should not remember her at all, let alone remember mourning her.'

Straightening her back, and looking right in his eyes, she kisses him on the lips and says with determination: 'As you said, Vincent, we'll work it out together. You always managed to accept the flashbacks, you'll find a way to live with these memories.'

Then, with humour: 'It may all turn out for the best, you'll have a lifetime of experiences to use in your acting.'

'You're right, I won't worry, not until we run into a problem anyway. Though I would like to tell your father's friends, see what they have to say about it.'

And with that, they have arrived at the house, where Catherine and Thomas are waiting for them with a cup of coffee and a lovely slice of pie. As Adison tells them after coffee that she is going to haunt the library with Catherine, Thomas describes where to find the books her mother left her, they are in an iron bound wooden chest with strange markings, in the back of the left gallery, with the books on travelling.

They walk off together, and Thomas and Vincent pour another cup of coffee and sit back in their chairs.

Thomas says: 'I'm very glad to see my daughter with you, Vincent, she is obviously very happy, there is so much love between you. And Catherine is just like Adison, I forget all the time they're not mother and daughter by birth.'

That affects Vincent a lot, such a nice thing to say! 'Thank you, Thomas, I'm very relieved to find you so approving of me. I was quite anxious you'd find it hard to trust me.'

'My dear boy, why are you so insecure all of a sudden? In all her letters Adison has always portrayed you as being the height of stability and self-assurance, a succesfull actor, the strong man she relies on. Why all the doubt?'

Who can resist such open friendliness? Vincent replies frankly: 'You are obviously Adison's father, you get straight to the point. She thinks it's because I gave up a place that I felt very safe in, the theatre where the actor in me was born, to move up a step in another, much more serious theatre.

I'm probably afraid the other actors won't accept me. I'm from very humble origins, I realize as we speak how incredibly humble, a beggar child saved from life in the streets, and I look like nobody else, never did actually. The other actors are all of much higher birth and very handsome. Why should they accept me as one of their own?'

'You neither look nor sound humble or low-born, you speak beautiful English, what you say makes sense, your stance is very proud, and though you certainly look different from other men, it attracts the eye instead of repulsing it.

There is something vaguely dangerous about you, I suppose you are a very good fighter? Your daughter told me proudly that you killed a gytrash by yourself. Is that true? She said she saw the body a day after, but did you kill it all by yourself?'

Vincent bows his head to affirm he did, and replies: 'I did, and it wasn't even very hard. I'm incredibly strong and fast, and I've developed my own style of sword-play, a combination of traditional fencing and Chinese martial arts. The thing didn't stand a chance.'

Thomas is impressed, but he asks: 'Why did you get attacked by a gytrash? I've read those books Adison is probably leafing through right now, and they take an enormous amount of energy to create. You must have a powerful enemy.'

'I thought I'd tell you tonight, when your friends are here. Tell all of you how I met Adison, got those scars and lost my colour. My memories returned today, all of them, suddenly they're just there, acting like normal memories. Except they aren't, I'm not the same person I was before I lost them, and now I'm afraid they'll change me, change how I feel about Adison, for I had a violent, possessive love for Catherine's natural mother in that lifetime.

And about my acting, for I was an utterly charming, utterly dangerous villain, working for an evil master. Will I be able to continue pursuing an acting career, knowing what I did to innocents, with cynical comments and reminiscences always in the back of my mind? I hope to get some expert advice from all of you, how to keep from going mad.'

'And you shall have it, my son, don't worry. Adison is also very strong, and I am very certain that no evil shall take root in you as long as you are with her. Trust her, as she trusts you.

Will you demonstrate your abilities with that sword now? I only fenced in college, but I appreciate seeing a master at work. And I suppose you need to practise anyway.'

Which Vincent does, outside in the garden, where there is plenty of space to move. It has started to rain slightly, but rain has never bothered Vincent, and his exercise enables him to empty his mind, giving him a few moments of peace before he will sit somewhere quiet to gather his courage and start digging in his memories to find out who the enemy is.

Thomas watches him with rising wonder, how can one man acquire so many skills in one lifetime? In Adison's opinion, and judging by the results of his audition that of Mr Wilde himself and Mr Alexander, chief of the St James theatre and a well-know actor, he is a gifted actor, on his way up through the ranks.

And he has seen him ride a horse like a professional horseman, so subtle his leads were hardly visible. And now the sword-play. Thomas knows about Chinese martial arts, and he has seen superior fencing in his days at college, and this man's style is indeed a perfect meshing of the two. The speed is incredible, and the technical moves are astounding in their complexity.

How can such a gifted man worry about a few scars in his face, and the colour of his eyes and skin? Who cares about such trivialities?

His curiosity is whetted, and he can hardly wait to hear what happened between Adison and him to create the almost tangible bond between them, and how his daughter's husband became the man he sees in front of him.

As he was practising, Vincent had a blessed moment where his mind was empty of all thoughts and especially memories, but now he has retreated to Thomas' study to piece together an image of their enemy, and his memories intrude on his thoughts once more.

Heathcliff's fearful reputation may have sprung mostly from his barely suppressed rage, he did have formal fencing teaching from the moment he could afford it, in the service of the master in London. Even then he had a talent for it, though of course just normal strength and agility. It explains why Vincent has picked it up so quickly, the basics were already there in his muscles, if not in his memory. His preference for romantic poetry, too, however incredible that may be, it originated in Heathcliff, maybe his neglected soft side?

Letting his mind associate freely, he encounters memory after memory, not a very scientific method, but very suitable to getting deeper and deeper into his past. There is no record of a Mrs Poole in Heathcliff's memories, he is certain of that, she must be a new player in the field, she seems to have had no connection to the master.

The master now, Heathcliff did see him quite often, drinking a glass of wine together, wine that resembled blood, thick and strong and deep red, almost brown. He was a very powerful looking man of middle age, short hair, clean shaven face, rather bland facial features. Vincent supposes he might be called handsome, though a little too indistinct to be truly beautiful. More notably was his charm, one might almost call it seductive. He didn't so much force a person to do his will, he seduced people, though he could be very cruel, even to his own people, as Mina told him examples of when they were drunk together.

But to Heathcliff he was very friendly, at least at first, in hindsight that friendliness was calculated to sink his predecessor in ever deeper debauchery, tempting him to cross his moral boundaries time and time again, getting him to hurt even Cathy, mentally at first, using her instability to drive her ever further away from reason, then physically, first as his victim, then to their mutual torment. For Cathy did not suffer in silence, she gave as good as she got.

The vampiric creature that held Mina, it was also a servant of the master, of more or less the same rank as himself. There was a lot of contention between them, the thing wanted to just kill as many people as it could with its harem of turned women. It turned one each night on average, and laid with them.

Mina was the only exception, she was not his to do with as pleased that vampire thing, she worked by herself, with the rabble of the street, and that thing accompanied her sometimes to guard her. It loathed that duty, and it hated Heathcliff, for trying to stop its murderous pillage through the city, the number of victims that creature was leaving behind it was alerting the guard, frightening the people, making Heathcliff's job that much harder.

That job was very confusing indeed. Most of the master's plots caused destruction and often heartbreak, mayhem in the streets and blood spilled, often innocent blood, for no apparent reason, no financial gain, no rise in status, just panic in the streets, lives and property lost.

But somehow, every one of those actions seemed to have given rise to some form of progress, like the horrible textile mill replaced by a machine operated mill, like a two cases Miss Yves rooted out, now clearly remembered, a very public and messy assassination of a respected priest that caused an outcry and general grief, until he turned out to have abused a lot of children.

And the humiliation of a respected council member by setting him up with a lady of sin, in a very compromising position, then having him caught at it by his own brother-in-law. His overthrow shocked half the town, but ended in the ascent of a truly righteous and filantropic man, a man who got a lot of laws passed to improve the quality of the river-water, and who was now working to get child-labour restricted.

Why? Why would someone sow murder and mayhem to reap progress? Wouldn't progress just happen by itself? Vincent mind is spinning.

After an hour, Vincent is worn out and rather sad, Heathcliff endured so much in his youth, Hindley's humiliations, and the constant rejection of the people of Gimmerton, and he repaid it all with interest, to those who generally didn't deserve it. Cathy might be the only exception, she didn't just suffer from him, she inflicted her share of pain and humiliation on him even before he succumbed to rage, contributing to his fall.

The door opens and Adison enters. Without a word, she sits on his lap and embraces him, again taking away the pain, reminding him he is someone else entirely. Her love has saved him from the heartbreaking conclusion to Heathcliff's woeful life, wreaking even more violence as the willess vessel of the master's invention, and she will save him from any danger these memories may bring.

Sitting together like this in total silence for some time, she eventually breaks it with a: 'That was an hour love, and I can see that is more than enough time to spend with those memories. Do you want to talk about it?'

'I promised, remember?' He kisses his beloved tenderly, she is so beautiful, but most of all so good, so free of jealousy, of smallness. 'The memories were bad, but they're mostly not really mine. They feel like useful information, though I feel sorry for Heathcliff for having had such a miserable life.

Of course that may yet change, but though I'm shocked at what he did, I don't feel responsible. It wasn't me. But Adison...'

She looks up at him, some relief and a lot of love in her features.

'...you did save me. Heathcliff was not hopeless, he was angry and damaged, but I'm certain you might have saved him as well as you saved me. Cathy made it worse, she played him, teased him, tormented him. They were each other's punishment as well as greatest love.'

He kisses her again, then says resolutely: 'And now I want to play with my daughter, cuddle her and hear her laugh. Are you coming?'

Adison just nods, her eyes are burning and her throat is shut very tightly, but she knows their love is going to help him turn those unwanted memories to their advantage, help him protect his little girl.

As the guests of that night arrive, Catherine feels a bit disappointed at first. Her parents have spent so much time together, she had hoped to be with them a little longer, though her grandfather is very nice, and they probably need the time to talk. It is very good to be here for a week, she prefers the bustle of London, but somehow she feels very vulnerable there, someone is after her and there is nothing she can do about it with her tiny body and still dormant talent. No matter how much faith she has in mum and dad, and the people around them, she would still prefer to have at least a tiny bit of influence on her own fate, a tiny chance to defend herself.

Still, the three of them have had a good time together this afternoon, and next time mum and dad need to talk, she'll tell them she wants a nap. And then, pretending to sleep, she'll read some of those books her grandfather gave mum, maybe she will find a way to protect herself in one of them.

Feeling a bit overdressed in one of her city gowns, Catherine is certainly very excited about tonight, she knows dad is going to tell grandfather about his past, and there seems to be something she hasn't heard yet.

The first to arrive is Philip, the youngest of the lot, and from the furthest away, he has a manor about ten miles to the north and he always comes over on horseback, even in Oktober, at his age.

He looks no more than fifty, though Catherine knows he is near sixty, and his clothes are almost fashionable, almost, for though their cut is modern, the colours are greens and browns, and that is totally not done in London.

The next two arrive together, they are Gabriel and Isobel, both well over sixty, but still very alert and healthy. They are not a couple, they just share a carriage because they always do, living in the same village about five miles in the opposite direction of where Philip lives.

Isobel is the widow of a lord, after her husband died and her eldest son took over the estate, she retired to a sweet cottage in a little village, spending her time keeping a beautiful cottage garden and writing essays on scientific subjects. She is tall and thin, and Catherine can easily imagine that she used to be a princess fitting her beautiful name once, when she was a lot younger and she danced with her lord at the most important balls in town, in a fairytale dress of course.

Catherine finds Gabriel most interesting, for he used to be a priest, until he lost his faith one day and directed his scholarship towards more mundane subjects. He even looks incredibly intelligent, though it is also the way he dresses, in corduroys and a knitted jumper, at his age!

Last to arrive is Leo, also well over sixty, he lives in the village nearby and walks over. Leo used to be her grandfather's steward before he retired, his son is the new steward, and also very nice, Catherine has met him when he came over with a problem when mum and dad were off talking. She doesn't like dad's troubled look, she wants him to be happy. Maybe he just needs to play again, actors probably feel useless when they are between roles. Catherine will encourage him to practice his role tomorrow, that'll cheer him up.

All her grandfather's friends shake hands with her as if she's an adult, and of course they shake hands with her dad. They do not look at his pale face or yellow eyes twice, people like this don't see the outside, they see right through that to the inside, and dad's inside is very, very interesting.

But they do not shake hands with mum, they know her and love her, and they have not seen her for years, before she moved to London she studied there for a year, and they have missed her all this time.

All four of them hug her tightly and kiss her, and they talk to her in a low voice, which she answers in a similar voice. Catherine moves over to her dad and climbs in his lap, where he wraps her in his arms and kisses her inky black hair. He's still a bit distraught, she can feel in in his body, he is tense, he holds her so tightly she almost gets no breath. 'Dad, I'm just two, you're squeezing me!'

He immediately loosens his grip, of course, and apologizes: 'I'm sorry love, I guess I tend to forget that, and I'm a bit tense.'

'I'm glad you forget I'm just two. And I'm proud you're so strong, and very happy you are my dad.' Catherine strokes her father's smooth cheek with one chubby little hand, and squeezes his large hand with the other. 'I love you dad, you're the best. I'm sure you'll feel much better when you are on the stage again, you're an actor, you need public or your life doesn't feel real.'

'You don't think this has to do with suddenly getting all my memories back?' he asks, clearly against better judgement, she's two, you're not supposed to burden your children with your worries.

'Of course, dad, but you never worry when you are on stage each night, and there is always a reason to worry, big or small. Let's practise your role tomorrow, you'll feel just fine.'

Now he smiles at her, a broad smile, and a true one, no acting there. 'That is a very good idea, Catherine, I'm glad you thought of it. Will you ride with me tomorrow, on Blinkers?'

'Yes, yes, please! That will be so exciting! Will you gallop with me?'

'That depends on how Blinkers is, a horse like that has his moods, if he is skittish it is too dangerous. But if he is solid, we'll gallop.'

All the hugs and kisses exchanged to satisfaction, they sit together in the drawing-room, and mum tells her friends what she has been doing with her life in the last year or so.

Catherine is very happy to be included in the circle, she sits on her dad's lap, his hand in both hers, and she can still feel his tension. When mum is done her friends ask all kind of questions, about Dr Frankenstein's research, and their practice, they're very interested.

And after that they want to hear dad's version of how he met mum, something Catherine he told her about, but only the short version, and she wants to know all. She knows it will be profound, the looks they exchange sometimes, they give Catherine shivers, good ones, even at her tender age. This will be so romantic.

Dad's holding her very tightly once more as he starts: 'My first memory is of agonizing, blinding pain, and nothing but pain. I screamed, it hurt so much. I knew only what a newborn knows, to find a human face and beg it to care for me. So I looked for a face and found it, but it didn't want me.

I stumbled towards it, I could walk but not well, the pain was as excruciating, there was blood everywhere, I got hold of the body belonging to the face but he pulled himself out of my blood-slick hands and fled. Then I screamed in fear and loneliness as well.

At the very moment my fear was turning into hatred, I felt a touch on my back and I turned around, still in terrible pain, desperate, and saw another face. I grasped for its body, and it opened its arms to receive me. This person did want me, and in her arms I let go of my loneliness and my hatred, forever.

The pain and emotions caused me to collapse, and she held me until the pain faded to bearable, stroking me, making me feel wanted, loved. Finally I could let go, and I fell asleep in her arms, my first moment of peace. That was a little more than one year ago.'

'I thought you lost your memories because of a wound, dad,' Catherine says.

'In a way I did, love,' he replies, 'but it was not the entire truth. The truth is, that I died of that wound, it was a boken skull, and Victor repaired it, then brought me back to life with a chemical mixture and a lightning strike.

At least, that is what we thought then. Now, we guess there was magic involved as well, for the resurrection left a dormant magic talent my body possessed tied to my physical shape, making me unnaturally fast, strong and durable.

Still, Victor brought me back to life, and the sight of me, white skin covered with the blood of the wounds he inflicted on me when I was still dead, yellow eyes gripping him in a plea to take away the pain, the sound of my screams, they terrified him into fleeing from me.

Adison accepted me, a bleeding monster screaming in pain and rage, and I have loved her since that moment. She healed my wounds and soothed my pain, she loved me as a newborn should be loved, she taught me everything, though learning to walk and speak and eat and keep clean all went rather easily, I guess my body remembered even if I didn't.

First I loved her as a mother, then as a sister, until after a few weeks I grew up to be a man, and we discovered true love together. I learned to accept Victor, my creator, but it did take a long time, his rejection stung, and I could only forgive him when I finally learned to love him, too.'

After that, her dad tells them how he got to be an actor, and how flashbacks told him who he had been in his former life, henchman to an evil master.

Then he recounts how Victor got involved the search for someone's daughter who had become a vampire, and how they found Mina, how Adison freed her, and how she stayed with them, finding love with Victor.

Apparently, Miss Yves had been the intended victim of the evil master, Mina just bait to lure her in, and after Adison freed Miss Yves, the master changed his target from Miss Yves to the daughter of his former employee, Catherine herself! Which accounted for him sending a gytrash to waylay anyone from rescuing her, except daddy thrashed that brute and fought his way to her anyhow. He truly is the best dad that ever lived.

When the tale is told, grandfather asks: 'And today you got all the memories back from the person you were before you died?'

'I did,' dad says, 'all at once. Fortunately they don't feel as if they're mine exactly, I can still separate them from what I have experienced in person. Or I'd go mad. Heathcliff seems to have been totally evil, I'm afraid he'll rub off on me, make me sarcastic to Adison, hurt her on purpose, or do other bad things.'

Gabriel says, with the conviction of the priest he used to be: 'No sane person can be turned to evil without making a conscious decision. And you have Adison. Whatever had your predecessor in its grip, he chose to admit it in his life. But was it truly evil?'

What did Gabriel mean, was Heathcliff truly evil, what else could it have been?

He explains: 'As priest, I have of course thought a lot about evil, and the reason I quit my calling was, that I couldn't believe in true evil anymore.

You know people aren't either totally good or totally bad, everyone has something of the one, and something of the other in him. So evil, in the sense of completely devoid of good, is something I don't think exists. And neither do I believe in something completely good.'

Philip observes: 'It is all a matter of balance, what rules a person's actions, the good or the bad.'

'I actually prefer the terms order and chaos,' Adison's dad states. 'Total order is nice and quiet, but it also brings stagnation. Chaos brings upheaval and mayhem, but also progress. We need both to function as a species.'

Dad now remembers: 'Heathcliff's master ordered him to do atrocious things, like setting fires to buildings, and even assasinations, and however horrible those deeds were, most of them brought a change for the good eventually. Progress.

Are you suggesting the master was an agent of chaos? Striving for disorder and leaving progress in his wake? But why want Miss Yves, why want Catherine?'

The old scholars have clearly had this discussion before, and they dive in with a relish.

Gabriel states with great certainty: 'Pure evil, like for instance Satan, does not exist. He just represents the people who strive for chaos, some don't even know why. And most of them don't realize, that for all the chaos they create, order results, for there has to be balance always.'

'Like Mrs Poole, the leader of the witches, she probably believes she gets orders from an evil spirit, or she knows it's her own will and pretends to have a totally evil mind above her to please her followers. If they knew they were just following her whims, they'd feel rather silly.

Especially since their deeds make the people who are bent towards order, like our very own Adison here, a lot more powerful.' Isobel is as strong a speaker as the men, Catherine likes that, though the entire conversation makes her head spin.

Philip adds: 'As to why they want Miss Yves, and Catherine, they both have a certain balance in their make-up, neither chaos nor order rules their being. That apparently makes them very useful to do magic, but I'm not an expert on that, you'd have to ask someone else, someone knowledgeable about magic.'

Neither of them knows the specifics of that, and since this discussion makes her head spin, Catherine asks one question that keeps plaguing her: 'But is the enemy always bent towards chaos? Is there never someone who strives towards total order who disturbs the balance, or tries to possess someone like Miss Yves or me?'

That has them silent for a moment, apparently they're still a bit stuck in chaos is evil, order is good.

Gabriel is the first to recover, and he says: 'I can imagine someone wanting to impose order on everything. Someone who wants things to stay the same always, and is prepared to go to incredible lengths to keep them that way.'

Mum and Isobel laugh disdainfully, at the same time actually. 'You mean like Victorians keeping their women locked up in beautiful houses and cramped corsets, to make sure they don't try to think for themselves?' Isobel states.

'Oh, so they are the ones causing chaos in the dancing halls!' Dad makes a joke out of a very serious issue, but he is not the one holding women back, not even as Heathcliff.

'They are right, Catherine,' Thomas says, 'we live under very strict social rules generally, meant to keep everything as it was. But meanwhile, things progress faster than ever, bicycles, boilers, trains, automobiles, electricity. Factories spring up like mushrooms on a wet afternoon.'

'What about the Chinese?' mum asks, 'they do not like change, they do not like progress. Do they breed chaos elsewhere by keeping things ordered? And if they do, will it be directed at them?' Mum is still awake, good.

'The point of chaos is that it is not always directed, it is a matter of balance. But just think about it a little, every time you call something evil.' Gabriel can see they are all tired, and they chat a little longer and then say their goodbyes.

After a week of walks and rides in the country, and a keen enjoyment of Thomas' company, some study of magic in Adison's mother's books, and a lot of playing with Catherine, they are ready to return to the city.

Neil arrives in excellent time, just after lunch, and they put their travel bags inside and take leave. It is a difficult moment for all of them, they have come to love Adison's father very much, and they are leaving him to be all by himself most of the time. But his life is clearly here, in the country, and theirs is in the bustle of the city. Adison hopes she'll see him in town in a few months, attending Victor's play at the St James' theatre.

Having kissed, and hugged, the girls get inside the carriage, Vincent climbs on the box once more, he wants to test his memories of the master and the raids of the old days against Neil's, and see them in the light of their new theory of order versus chaos. Neil will enjoy hearing that, and discussing it together.

Also, Vincent really doesn't like the idea of not seeing danger coming at him. The fact that he is a sitting duck on the box bothers him less, and though his experience with Mina and him getting shot should have taught him better, it hasn't. He still prefers to face danger head on.

Adison and Catherine are cosy inside, it is much warmer there and they don't mind a little girls'-talk at all. But a five hour journey is still a long haul for both of them, and after four hours Catherine falls asleep on Adison's lap. There isn't much to do, looking out of the window is not much use since it is starting to get dark already, so Adison lights a lamp and picks up one of her mother's books on magic.

She has leafed through them all, and this one she thinks is the most essential to read from cover to cover first: a volume on witchcraft. It is a very interesting book, like most people she thought witches were always twisted, evil creatures, but apparently there is as much difference in witches as there is among all people, good bad, and everything in between.

Well, Melissa told her more or less that her father is a witch, and an evil man could never produce as wholesome a daughter as Melissa, not and still be in touch with her. She does strike Adison as very earthy, very solid and connected to herself, of course that comes with being an engineer, no job more logical than that.

And that is a strong hallmark of a witch, connection to the world around him, or her of course, as well as their use of ingredients to cast their spells. Herbs, animal parts or even entire small animals, and as Miss Yves warned them, bodily fluids and nail clippings, hair, all are powerful ingredients for spells. They also invariably use spoken incantations, Paul doesn't seem to do that, he just builds an image of what he means to accomplish, then subjects it to his will.

Thinking back to her own intuitive use of magic, she used a formula, but she also willed the evil, or the choas, away, and she used a kiss, a touch with a meaning.

Seems like she's used at least two.

Thinking of what she has learned so far, shielding and throwing things, she realizes no-one will see her doing it until the result becomes visible. And that only to people with sight, except the fireball of course, anyone can see that.

She uses sight and sees the ley-lines clearly, they seem more powerful outside town, maybe natural life gives more power than humans. Or maybe plants give more power than animals. They certainly seem to use less for themselves, just standing there.

Concentrating on the book again, time passes quickly, and now the first lights and buildings of the city start to appear on both sides of the carriage.

Suddenly, Catherine wakes and sits up straight away. She hisses: 'They're coming.'

Then Adison feels it, too, her priestess' sense of evil, is it evil, or is it chaos? No time to think about that, it warns her something is near, and she immediately knocks on the window to warn the guys, yelling 'danger'.

Vincent's face appears in front of the window, and he reads her expression right, for Adison can hear his sword clear its sheath. Will Paul's handiwork taste its first blood tonight?

The horses keep their steady pace, Neil trusts Vincent with his life, and anyway, stopping will not get them to safety.

Adison sits back in her seat, keeping track of the sense of evil, she still sees it as evil, maybe it will tell her from which side it will approach. Catherine really doesn't like being just two and tiny, and Adison tells her: 'If it is a witch, Catherine, breaking her concentration will stop her from casting a spell, and scattering her spell components. And don't let her get to your hair, or blood, or spit. Use your imagination, and Mina's self-defence training, using anything you can lay your hands on.

I'm going to keep a shield handy and a fireball, so stay close to me. Your dad will protect us both, nothing is very likely to get in.'

The feeling of evil approaching is still strengthening, but there are no sounds of a confrontation outside, and Adison doesn't want to scare Catherine by being too tense, the girl felt really relaxed this week, for the first time in her life, it's not fair to have her tense up again right after crossing the city boundary.

But it is reality, for whatever is out there is getting really close now, and it is avoiding Vincent by coming from the back. Adison can distinguish one mind, eager to triumph, but not ready for opposition, not ready for action. How can those girls underestimate them again, after what happened last time?

Oh well, their problem, Adison's advantage.

Instead of using the door, a hand comes right through the back of the carriage, and Adison changes seats, facing the back wall, taking Catherine with her of course. She does not knock on the window to warn Vincent, why doesn't she? He'll be with her in seconds, and everything will be over.

Does she want to face this witch herself? Test herself? She is a priest after all.

After the one hand, the top of a head follows, slowly, sinuously. Adison has a gun, and she knows how to use it, she could shoot this creature straight in the head, but again she doesn't, telling herself it is illegal to just shoot people.

That is the worst argument she has ever used to herself, this thing is coming through a solid wall, human laws don't apply to it, she is within her rights to shoot it.

But she doesn't.

Is she under its spell? Or is she suffering from hubris, totally convinced she can handle it arcanely, eager to test herself against the enemy? Catherine is not afraid, not yet. Her little hand in Adison's is steady, and she not only watches the figure, but the rest of the carriage as well, keeping an eye out for other assailants. Wise girl.

Now the head comes through, and it seems surprised to find both of them watching her. So that slow emergence was not theatrics for their benefit, she was being circumspect to surprise them. Too bad, she failed.

Even now, Adison does not point her gun at the figure, but she does keep her mind on shields and fireballs. Next to her, Catherine pokes her and hisses in a low voice, as low as a toddler can manage: 'She looks just like them, but more powerful.'

Of course, sight, Catherine is way ahead of her in that. Using it, she can see the figure burning brightly, not as brightly as Catherine, though. Is the little girl working magic? She can't, can she?

The woman, it is clear she is a woman since she's altogether naked, but she has the same bare scalp, and is covered in scars as the first bunch reputedly was. Not very pretty, and exactly as they described them. She clearly does not expect any resistance, she probably expects them to scream and try to hide, but Adison is ready for her.

'What do you want?' she asks, firmly.

The woman seems put out that she is not hysterical, moves sinuously again, then spits: 'Well, not you, that's for sure. Give the girl to me and I'll kill you quickly, instead of in slow agony.'

That doesn't sound like a fair deal, and Adison doesn't deign to answer, for she can see the light brighten in the witch. She cannot attack Adison physically for fear of hurting Catherine, so she'll go for magic.

As the creature starts to mutter beneath her breath, Adison feels it's time to act, and she puts up a shield over herself and Catherine, then readies a fireball and aims it straight at the woman before her. It takes her absolutely by surprise, and full in the chest.

A hideous scream tears at their eardrums, but the fireball does not take the witch out, the large smoking wound ravaging her chest clearly pains her a lot, but it has also made her very angry, apparently Adison's fireballs are not strong enough yet, to take out an experienced witch. Her noise has alerted the men outside, and the carriage stops.

Vincent will be here in less than a minute, but the woman is moving now, coming at Adison with two outstretched hands. Adison takes a defensive stance, but she is sitting in a cramped space, and this woman is incredibly strong. She can feel the hands closing on her windpipe, she kicks, then readies another fireball, when suddenly the grip slackens and the witch is blown backwards.

A bit dazed, Adison looks around her, to see Catherine look at her own chubby hand, and say: 'It worked!'

No time for that, the witch is already getting up, but she is not going to get another chance at them, the door flies open and Vincent nearly has her, but the thing escapes back through the wall, a move he didn't expect, giving her just enough time to get away. For a very short time.

As he moves out of the carriage, the head sticks back in and says menacingly: 'You got my two sisters, but I will be back. Better start studying our arts, little girl. Mother's waiting for you eagerly.'

And then she is yanked out of the wall, another scream escaping her, it must hurt being pulled through wood with Vincent's power, and they sit back in their seat, more respectful of a witch's strength from now on. But Adison needs to know Vincent is all right, so she takes Catherine's hand and steps out of the carriage.

A battle is in full swing, but not an even one. Vincent is not wielding his sword, it is back in its sheath, and he clearly has objections to beat up a woman, but since she has no problem at all molesting him, he soon puts some heart in it and her chances fade quickly. He must mean to keep her alive for questioning, for he is clearly both stronger and faster than she, he could have ended it by now. Retreating fast, her back strikes a brick house, she's stuck between a wall and Vincent, who follows her, drawing his sword.

Killing her would be the wisest thing to do, but with all those new memories of Heathcliff flying in a rage and killing, he will be loathe to end her in cold blood.

Then the witch takes the agony of decision out of his hands, for once connected to the brick wall, she disappears into it, leaving Vincent standing there, facing a blind wall with his sword out. He turns around quickly and comes back towards them, asking: 'Are you both all right? Why didn't you knock on the window that there was an intruder? Were you frozen with fear? No matter, let's just go home. We'll talk there, it's unnerving to see someone disappear into a wall, but I'm a bit relieved too, I didn't look forward to killing in cold blood.'

At that moment, Mina comes storming into the alley, not out of breath at all, of course, a bit disconcerted to get to the scene too late, but glad to see everyone in good shape.

'I guess I didn't get afraid until that thing started to throttle Adison, and that is less than five minutes ago, Mina. You are fast enough, I'm just not scared enough,' the girl says dryly.

As Vincent's expression changes to total confusion, Adison says: 'I wasn't either, Catherine, we both need to gain a little respect for these creatures, they're strong and very fast. We're not dad or Mina, that much is clear. Let's go home. Will you ride with us, Mina?'

They all get in the carriage, except Vincent who climbs back on the box with Neil, and Neil sets off once more, until they are delivered to their home safe and sound, and Neil drives away with his payment.

Victor is waiting for them anxiously, and visibly relieved to see them all unhurt. He helps carry the luggage inside, and they all gather around the kitchen table with a cup of tea.

Adison admits: 'We both saw her come in but didn't warn you. I'm afraid I wanted to try a fireball very badly, stupid and arrogant of me, that won't happen again. How did you manage to stun her, Catherine? Did you use something heavy?'

Catherine says proudly: 'I used magic. I found this stun-spell in one of grandmother's books, and when the witch had you by the throat I got scared and put my hand on her and tried it. It worked.'

'You used magic?' Vincent asks incredulously, 'are you all right? Not tired, no headache?'

The little girls walks over to her dad and lets him lift her on his lap: 'I'm fine dad, I slept in the carriage, and my head feels fine. I'm very hungry, though.'

'But how come your stun bolt worked and my fireball didn't knock her out?'

Catherine replies: 'I was touching her, I'm sure that made the impact greater. Your fireball tore a hole in her chest the size of a melon, I saw it still smoking. Anyone else would have died. My stun bolt probably just tipped the balance.

But in general I think stunning is more practical, fire does leave traces on a body, and you could have set fire to Neil's carriage. I'll show you this one, it's easy.'

Now Victor offers: 'What if Catherine's talent is more suited to offensive magic? Paul said yours is the healing kind, Adison, maybe that makes offensive spells less powerful.'

That kind of makes sense, but it only means she will have to work harder to be able to score hits on those witches.

Adison mentions: 'Did I imagine it, Catherine, or did that witch suggest we had killed or taken her friends?' The little girl acknowledges this, and Mina reacts: 'So maybe they did flee their mistress, good for them. Though life will not be easy for them, on the run.'

'This one was clearly more competent than that last lot, she could move through solid materials without much effort, she can come into this house any time she likes,' Vincent now observes. 'The next few months I will be rehearsing by day and I will be home at night, so I can still guard you, but once the shows start I will be away all evenings. I want this matter resolved by then. Let's take the fight to them, we know who our enemy is, we can find out where she lives.'

'I'll start reading those books my mother collected for me,' Adison says, 'maybe we can find a way to disable their special abilities. And let's hope Melissa's father will be willing to help us out, the best defence against bad witches must be good witches.'

The travels and the fight have tired them, and after a solid dinner and another hour of talk, about Vincent's regained memories, and their interesting discussion with Thomas' friends, they turn in early.

When Catherine's breathing slows, indicating that she is fast asleep, Vincent takes Adison in his arms and holds her firmly. They lie together in silence for quite some time, until Vincent starts to speak hesitantly: 'Tomorrow is the day, love, first rehearsal. You, and your father, and Catherine, and the others, have told me repeatedly that I will do really well, but still I am a bit apprehensive. Such a change.'

'I think you will have the time of your life,' Adison replies, 'think about it, all those people who live for the same thing you do. You can learn so much by just observing them. But they probably all know one another, so you'll have to work hard to fit in.'

He nibbles her ear, and she kisses him. Of course such intimacies quickly lead to others, and they make love quietly, then fall asleep in each other's arms.