Jane stood in front of the crude looking glass. It didn't truly qualify as a mirror; she wasn't quite sure if they existed yet. Instead, it was just a piece of highly polished metal.
"Not bad, if I do say so myself," Mimi said. "The fabric's high-quality, and it shows. It fits nicely." She leaned back and examined it a bit more. Sighing in frustration, she leaned forward and fixed a wrinkle in the skirt. "There. Now then, Lady Jane, how does that suit you?"
Jane grinned, looking at herself in the white dress. "It suits me very fine, thank you."
Mimi grinned. "I'll go tell your uncle. Do you want him to see it?"
"By no means," Jane said, breaking out into a smile. "I want him to be as surprised as anyone else. If Will can't see it beforehand, he can't, either."
Mimi smiled. "You've grown up, Lady Jane," she said a bit sadly. "I'll tell him. Girls, three of you take the unneeded material out, would you?"
Three of the five girls broke away and gathered shreds and piles of the material for the dress, following Mimi out.
Jane turned a bit to see the back of the dress. Conservative, just like everything else here. Still, she couldn't complain. She was getting married soon, after all. After a time of living in court, this was still before Camelot's fall, people had started calling her "Lady Jane." She had by now given up on trying to correct them.
She supposed she ought to be nervous, but she couldn't imagine how she could be. She and Will had lived here for two years now, and he had finally asked. Everyone had known they'd soon get married, it was just a matter of when. And she was most happy that Gumerry would be bringing Simon and Barney to the festivities.
Behind her, she heard another door open and watched the figure in the reflection.
"Hello, sir," one of the girls said. In the poor reflection, Jane watched her form fall, the other girl falling shortly after. The figure was still coming toward her, and Jane spun round, preparing to scream. He grabbed her neck and stuffed a cloth in front of her face. Once her eyes had closed, he removed it, picked her up, and carried her out the way he had come in.
"What do you mean, she's gone?" Bran asked calmly, looking at Will, who was unhappily ripping a piece of paper into smaller and smaller shreds.
"I mean just what I said," Will told Bran impatiently. "She was trying on her wedding dress, and then someone just walked in, knocked out two of the servants, and took her." He met Bran's eyes. "Black hair. Stocky. One of the servant girls described him as greasy. Know anyone of that description? One of the guards at the gate saw a merchant matching that description walk out of the city carrying a large sack." He threw down the piece of paper, calmed himself, picked it up and resumed shredding.
"How did Daniel get in?"
"They're checking into it," Will said testily. "Listen, Bran. Right now, I really don't care about that, to be honest. I want Jane back, safe and sound, and right now she's with Daniel, and who knows what's going to happen? Remember the last time the Dark kidnapped one of the Drews? They took Barney to a place where he could have been killed. What if they do that again? Or what if they sell her into slavery, huh? What then?"
"It won't come to that," Bran told him. He got up to fetch them drinks. "We know someone who knows Daniel incredibly well, remember?"
Will sighed and leaned back, staring at the paper as he tore it into smaller scraps with his nails. "She doesn't remember anything, Bran. And even if you restored her memory, how would she act? She wasn't forgiving in the first place."
"I can handle it," Bran said. "Michael should be old enough now that she won't be so protective."
"Really?" Will asked. He seemed about to go on, but in the end, he sighed and said, "If it helps get Jane back, I'll do it."
"Good. Then I suggest you pack a few things. I'll take care of transportation. She lives kind of far away."
When someone knocked at the door, Michael was the first to jump up and check it. His mom probably hadn't even heard it. She tended to concentrate too hard on her work, designing webpages and compiling databases. He peered through the eyehole, but didn't recognize the two men standing there. Still, they didn't look like thugs.
"Mom?" Michael called. "Someone's at the door."
"Okay," she said. She stuck a pencil in her notebook to mark her place, put her glasses on the desktop, and went to the door. She peered through the eyehole and immediately opened the door. She stood there in shocked silence, seemingly waiting for the two men to do something. "Michael," she said at last. "Go to the kitchen, please."
Michael nodded and went into the kitchenette, ducking. If his mom had wanted him to know nothing of her affairs, she would have sent him to his room. Still, things looked promising.
"What do you want?" she asked the two men once he was out of sight.
"Cat?" the white one said. Michael had never seen anyone like him before. He was completely white. If he'd walked down Elm, he'd be dead by now. The other one was brunette. Their colors were muted, but that only meant that they were free meat between the gangs if they got caught. No allegiance meant there wouldn't be anyone to avenge your death. No trouble to the killer.
Catherine's grip tightened on the doorknob. "Yeah?"
"We've got a problem with Daniel," the other said. "He's kidnapped my fiancee-"
"Will, calm down. May we come in?" the other asked.
Catherine thought and finally opened the door wider. She led them into the office/sitting room, and sat down in one of the chairs, all of which had been bought at yard sales and none of which matched. "Please," she said. "Sit."
The white one grinned. "Manners? From you? I never would have thought it."
She scowled. "They help in my profession. However, if you wish to criticize me or play a joke, I'm sure we can work out something."
"With us on the short end."
"Precisely."
"Cat," the white one said. He stepped closer and pressed a hand on either side of Catherine's head. "Remember."
A second later, Catherine pulled herself into the mostly absent cushioning of the chair. "What did you- You- You're- He's back?"
Will nodded. "And he's kidnapped Jane."
"Your fiancee is Jane? That's great, Will. Congratulations."
"On what?" he said sourly. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not getting married if I don't have a bride."
"And you want me to help you find her?"
The white one knelt down beside the chair. "Listen, Cat. No one knows Daniel as you do. No one knows you as Daniel does. You can help us trap him, and then we can get rid of him for good."
"Sure, I'll- What's that?"
"What's what?" the man said, suddenly acting slightly embarrassed.
"That ring, Bran. The one on your finger."
"Oh. That." The man lifted up his hand so she could see a round room. "I'm engaged. I was trying on rings today, and then Will showed up..."
"Oh," she said, surprised. She grinned, but Michael could tell she didn't feel it. "Well, I guess everyone's just getting married now, huh? Fashionable?"
Will and Bran looked at each other. Will shrugged, apparently letting Catherine's comment slide. He must have known her for a long time. "Actually, I've been planning this for a while. I just didn't expect Bran to say he was getting married as well."
"Well that's great," Catherine said. "Congratulations to both of you. Tell you what. Why don't you come by tomorrow morning? As you recall, I have a son to look after, and I also have a few loose ends to attend to."
"Why not now?" Bran asked.
"Because I said so," Catherine said coldly. "Come back tomorrow morning."
"Cat-" Will began.
"Don't. Guilt won't work on me, Will. Don't think it will. Tomorrow. Now, out with you. Both of you." She showed them out and then leaned against the wall, studying one of the cracks in the ceiling.
"Mom?" Michael said, coming out of the kitchenette. Of course, he knew she wasn't his real mom, but she treated him as a real mother would treat a real son, and she was the only mother he had ever known. "Who were they?"
"People," she said, sounding tired. "I'll tell you when I get back, how about? No, better yet, I'll tell you in the morning, when I'm awake and over the shock."
"Get back from where?"
"Just the store. I need to get something. As for you, it's past your bedtime. So to bed with you, Skywalker." She grinned at the shirt he was sleeping in, with a small group of spaceships battling a large space station and other ships. He had been obsessed with the movie ever since he'd seen it.
He grinned. "Bet you I can lock the door with my mind," he said.
"Bet you can't use your powers as a Jedi to go to sleep," she taunted. She watched him until she was sure he had gone to his room and then crept out, locking the door behind her before she left the apartment building.
As she walked down the street, she complimented herself on how well she'd done in the past eight years. She hadn't moved entirely out of the neighborhood, she just lived on the border of the lower and middle class neighborhoods. Close enough to her home to remind her whom she was and teach Michael that bad things were out there while far enough that she didn't need bars on her windows. As long as she and Michael were careful, they were perfectly safe.
She bought the wine, an old type, and walked home with it. She hadn't drank alcohol in a long time, but she was pretty sure wine wasn't the same. Rich people drank wine. It might weaken her wits, but it wouldn't kill her. Besides. Alcohol came from beer, and wine came from grapes, she rationalized.
When she got home, she reached for a glass, hesitated, and withdrew her hand. Instead, she went directly to her room, where she opened the bottle. She was already ahead in her work, and Michael would be fine. Oh, in the name of all things good. She simply deserved a little kick after all the work she'd done, and the shock she'd just gotten. Normally, she prided herself on how well she went with the flow, but finding that she hadn't found Michael as she had apparently imagined, instead finding him, an odd present from Daniel, had thrown her off more than she liked. She shrugged and decided she might as well start.
Outside the apartment, across the street, Will sat in the car, staring at the front door of the apartment building. It wasn't a big building. Four stories of trashy rooms, filled with rats and who knew what else.
"A watched pot never boils, Will," Bran said patiently as studied a book on economics he'd brought along.
"I thought you told her to get a nicer place than this."
"I did. She apparently forgot. Or she had her own ideas. She's like that, you know."
"Yeah, I know, but- Bran. Heads up."
Bran obeyed and looked. He felt a prickling along his spine and instead searched with his mind. "He can't get in without an invitation," he said firmly.
"Right," Will said. "Does Michael know that?"
"Michael? No, I don't know if he even knows..." The two glanced at each other and got out of the car at once. "He wouldn't try anything," Bran said as they walked across the street. "Not with an Old One and the Pendragon here."
Will's eyes narrowed. "He did it back home, and can you imagine how many Old Ones were there at the time? And Jane's protected by the Light. That didn't even stop him."
They began running up the stairs, taking them two by two, then three by three. The Dark's presence was stronger. On the third floor, they took a right and ran halfway down the hall. They tried her door and found it locked. Will knocked impatiently, and had begun shouting when the door opened, and a small boy with short blond hair and green eyes glared at them, his look of maturity contrasting the Star Wars images on his shirt.
Will picked him up a bit and went in, Bran following. Bran closed the door behind him, locking it. "Where's your mom?" Bran demanded. Will nodded his approval. Bran had been taking on the Old One's aspects of linguistics; you could barely tell his accent was Welsh.
"Why do you want to know?" Michael demanded.
"Because you and she may be in trouble," Bran explained quickly.
"Listen, buster. I don't know if you noticed, but Hell's outside the window, and you think we may be in trouble? The only reason I let you in was because you were here earlier, but if that's the best news you can tell me..." Michael dusted off his pajamas where Will had touched them, glaring at the two older men.
Someone started knocking on the door. "Cat? You in there?"
"No solicitors!" Michael shouted. He turned to look at Bran and Will. "And that includes you two."
Something hard hit the door, causing it to splinter. Michael looked at it in shock. "Whoa," he murmured.
Bran grabbed his shoulders and turned the boy to face him. "Listen, Michael. I need to know where your mother is."
Michael looked at him, to the door, which had just received another hit and few more splinters, and back. "Her bedroom," he said quickly. "This way." He ran down the hall barefoot to his mom's room and threw open the door. "Mom!" he shouted. She was asleep in her bed on top of the covers. What was wrong with her? She never slept like this. And then he saw the bottle. He picked it up, and Bran took it from him.
"Nearly empty," he said. "She drink often?" he asked Michael. Michael shook his head, and Bran grabbed Catherine's shoulders and shook her. "Wake up!" he ordered.
Catherine gave a little moan and tried to slap him, much to slowly and off by about eight inches.
"You're drunk!" Bran said.
"Not yet," she muttered.
"Daniel's here."
That got her at least to open her eyes. "You just going to stand there, then?" she asked slowly, slightly slurred.
"No. Come on. Get up." He dragged her to her feet, where she swayed unsteadily. "Will," he said hurriedly.
Will stepped forward and caught her.
"Where are we going?" Michael asked.
"Someplace a bit safer than this place and time right now," Bran said. He took Eirias out of its sheath, and he heard Michael gasp and stand back. Bran ignored him and concentrated on the spell, moving the sword precisely. Right before they left, Bran had time to see Daniel's hand reach for the doorway, and then Daniel's face, and then Daniel seemed to disappear.
And they were headed for relative safety.
When it was over, and they stood in Bran's father's Great Hall. "At least now we know how she'll react," Bran told Will optimistically.
Serious thanks to Rose-bud. Without her, this wouldn't have been out so soon. If only I had people like her to encourage me with the "Harry Potter and the Twick" sequel and "School of American Magic," not to mention "The Search For Atlantis," I might actually get one of those done, LOL. *sigh* Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. I'm going on a little vacation now, so I don't know when the next part will be up. Please forgive me, and thanks for reading this far. © 2001.
