Chapter Four

The Sign

"Welcome to the American version of Frankenstein's castle," Catherine said, waving extravagantly at the spray-painted walls around them.

"Charming," Bran said dryly.

John Rowlands read some of the writing. "What's that mean?" he asked, eyeing a certain phrase.

Catherine laughed nervously and clamped a hand over Michael's mouth as the boy opened it. With her other hand, she pushed John Rowlands's arm down. "It's nothing to worry about. What now?"

"Split up and search. We've got a lot of ground to cover. Will, Cat, Michael, and me and John. Ready?"

They all nodded and split up.

Catherine stuck Michael in between herself and Will. Michael glared at her, but Catherine put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving in front.

"Still remember how to fight?" Will asked. She was surprised to see him holding a sword in front of him.

"Yeah. I remember. You remember how to use that thing?"

Will grinned. "Had two years to practice."

"You can use a sword?" Michael asked, eyes wide. "Really?"

Will nodded and started singing softly to change the subject; he obviously wasn't worried about Daniel finding him. As he did so, though, he saw a slight glowing in the dust in the corner. "Hey," he said suddenly. "What's that?"

"What's what?" Catherine asked, tempted to sneeze from so much dust.

"That. It's one of the Signs." Will walked forward and picked it up. It was a quartered circle, all right. One of the Signs.

"What's- Oh." She looked at it. "It's stone. I must say that it's a really freaky piece of jewelry."

Will shook his head. "It's not jewelry; it's one of the Signs of the Light."

"Did magic do it? Make it and all?" Michael asked excitedly.

"Magic did have a part to play in it," Will confirmed. "Let's go; she isn't here."

The Sign was the only thing they found that day. Catherine wanted to talk to Bran, but he always paired her up with Will. After they'd searched eight of the houses, they all decided to go back home, tired. Bran took out the sword, and Michael watched his movements carefully as he did the spell again.

* * *

"Do you want them to find you or something?" Isabella hissed.

"Yes, actually. I do. I think it would be quite amusing." Daniel grinned as he absently twirled a scotch glass around on his finger.

"You're of the Dark, Daniel. You mustn't betray them."

"Like you did?" Daniel asked lightly.

"I did not betray the Dark. I did what I had to do."

Daniel laughed and nodded. "Falling for the Pendragon. You must be so pleased, Belle. He's got power, money. Or at least he would have power- shame his little kingdom is going to crumble before he'll ever inherit. We've talked to Mordred, by the way. We of course didn't let him know we were the Dark, and I doubt he got the implications; he's a daft oaf, if you ask me. But he'll get the job done. After all, the textbooks haven't changed."

"And what exactly are you hinting at?" she grated. "No, never mind. It isn't important. Why don't you just kill the girl? It would defeat the Light, surely!"

"I don't want to kill Jane. Good God, Belle. Do you know how angry that would make them? Even the Dark, since Jane has the protection of the Light. I can deal with a bunch of the Old Ones and the Pendragon on my back, but there isn't enough room there for the High Magic."

"And she's only bait? You aren't falling for her?"

Daniel laughed heartily. "How could I? She's like all the others. Belle, dear. All I'm doing is waiting for them so I can taunt them a bit. I promise."

Isabella's eyes narrowed. "Am I to believe the promises of the Dark?" she asked.

The door flew open, and Simon and Barney stood in the doorway. They rushed in as Isabella looked around frantically, seeing Daniel had left.

"Where is he?" Simon asked. He advanced on her. "Where's my sister?"

Her mind raced, and she threw her arms around him. "Thank God you came," she said, sniffling. "I was so afraid! He was here, right here! I thought he was one of the boys from the village delivering something. I was in the kitchen- I didn't know whom it was!"

Simon blinked at Barney, startled. Barney shrugged and went to look around the house. He returned a few moments later. "Not here," he said, shaking his head.

Simon tried to comfort Isabella, feeling awkward as she cried into his shoulder.

When Bran and his convoy showed up, Isabella instead flung herself at him. "What happened?" he asked Simon and Barney, who told them what they had seen and heard. Bran nodded and patted Isabella's back gently; she'd mostly stopped crying by now.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Catherine rolled her eyes. "I'm going to put Michael to bed. Where can I stash him?"

"Guest room. Where Will was before," Bran said absently.

Catherine nodded and dragged away a complaining Michael.

After she'd left, Bran told Isabella, "Don't be sorry. You didn't know."

"But still-"

"Hush, Izzy. Come on. Get some rest." He led her to the bedroom and tucked her in. When he came back, Catherine had come back, getting drinks for everyone.

"This is surreal," she complained. "Sherry? I can't believe you actually drink that!"

"Why not?" Bran demanded. "It's good!"

"It's disgusting," Catherine snapped back. "Just like that little tearfest your lady pulled back there. Fake all the way. Whatever made you decide to propose, anyway?"

Bran had been about to ask how she knew Sherry was disgusting if she didn't drink (usually), but cleared his throat when he realized he had everyone's attention. "I, um, went to check on how she'd been, after our last little adventure. And she was very different."

"Different, ha," Catherine scoffed. "The only thing different about Isabella is that her rear doesn't have a nose to breathe in through."

Although his jaw tightened, Bran ignored the comment. "She was the designated Seer of the village and surrounding towns. She undertook whatever was asked of her, and whatever money she couldn't refuse she would give away."

"The vast amounts of money she couldn't refuse she gave away to her bank, I'll bet," Catherine said.

Bran glared at her. "What's your problem with her?" he asked, straining to keep his voice casual.

"I think I'll go home now," John Rowlands said quickly. "Do you lads need a place to stay?"

"Yep," Simon and Barney said promptly, getting up to follow.

"I'll stay here," Will said. "I'll sleep on the couch." He looked at Bran and Catherine, who were silently glowering at each other. "Though I think I'll go ahead and get ready for bed now." The four quickly exited.

"Well," Catherine said, "you certainly clear a room."

"You're the one who cleared it," Bran said lightly, standing. He walked to the refrigerator, hoping food would be a nice distraction.

Catherine followed him and pushed him against the refrigerator door. "Listen, Bran," she said angrily. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but for Christ's sake! Do you know what you're doing?" Realizing how close she was to him, she turned quickly and started pouring some water, gulping it down and hoping she wasn't blushing as badly as she thought she was.

"What's so hard to understand?" Bran asked her, turning to get a sandwich from the refrigerator. "I love her."

"Love and reason keep little company together," Catherine intoned.

"Shakespeare," Bran said, nodding. "A Midsummer Night's Dream. You know that play?"

"It was my favorite until I realized you knew it," she said crisply. "Good night." She stormed off to the guest bedroom.

"Good night." On his way to his room, Bran knocked on the door of the bathroom and told Will it was safe to come out.

* * *

Far off, in a place hidden to the rest of the world, the Lady sat calmly. Even as she sat there, staring into the water bowl with a few drops of oil, she seemed to become two.

"They're my friends!" Clara shouted in her mind. Clara was the younger of the two, not truly the Lady yet. She had more sacrifices to make, more wisdom to understand.

"They may be, but you must do what is best to the Light, Clara. That is where our loyalty must always lie."

"I've already died for it," Clara said, glaring.

"You think life is the price of loyalty? Child, death proves nothing."

"Then let me sacrifice. Not them. Just because-"

"Clara," the Lady said softly. "You know what must be done."

"Yes, I know," Clara said. And with that, the woman, sitting alone, felt the Lady become a bit weaker, and Clara become a bit wiser.

* * *

Jane glared at Daniel as he entered. She was so close to done with this measly twine! If he didn't check it, she might be out of here by tomorrow.

Daniel sat across from her, shaking his head. "What is it with you women?" he asked. "You always hate men like me. Don't you want the chance to be saved by a valiant knight?"

Jane couldn't help it. She laughed. "How's that for an answer?" she asked.

"Pretty good," Daniel admitted. He stared into the flames of the candle. "How much do you know about Michael?" he asked at last.

"He's Catherine's foster child. She found him. You know that."

Daniel grinned. "Yeah, I know. He's got a love of power, you know. Slightly greedy."

Jane narrowed her eyes at him, and Daniel reflected on how that had been happening a lot lately. "How would you know?" she asked quietly.

"Runs in the family," Daniel said, getting up. "He's my son. Catherine's too. Remind me to tell you the story sometime. Then again," he said as he looked at his watch, "the story doesn't even begin until tomorrow. You might be here to watch it unfold." He left Jane in shocked silence as he went to his own room, thinking about Michael. Once he got Michael, he'd have Catherine. And once he had Catherine, he'd have the Pendragon, which would give him the Old Ones and Arthur, which would give him the Dark bowing before him. It was almost too easy.

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© 2001. Hope you liked it! More to come! And to the person who asked if reviews motivate me, since I'm currently working on three stories and a website and a summer job including numerous email "occupations," yes, they very well do. ;o)