This time when Sara awoke, Niamh, John's mother, was looking at her. "So you're awake, are you?"
"Yes, where's Ian?" Sara sat up in the bed. She wanted to confirm that the memories she had just witnessed did indeed belong to Ian.
"That's what we were waiting to ask you. Ian has been missing since you sent the rogues away, three days ago." Niamh hadn't met Ian but the fact he was missing was thoroughly discussed while waiting for Sara to wake up.
"Home. I sent them all home. Not very imaginative but more humane than dropping them in the middle of the ocean."
"Well, then perhaps Ian is home?"
"Yeah, it's worth a try. Where's a phone?" She got out of bed, noticing that she was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt - not her clothes.
Sara called Irons; she assumed that was where Ian felt his home was. "Hey, Irons, has Ian shown up there? Like 3 days ago?"
"No, Sara. Why? Have you misplaced him?"
"Eh, sort of. We were attacked by a bunch of thugs then. By the time we got rid of them, Ian was missing."
"Well, Sara, you must try harder to keep track of your employees."
"Huh?"
"Something else happened 3 days ago that severed my link with the Witchblade, and broke my connection with you and Ian. I am no longer privy to the inner circle, so to speak. Ian is bound to the Witchblade. He is your responsibility now."
"Irons, don't mess with me! What do you know about Ian's whereabouts."
"There, you asked a question I can answer. However, Sara, we cannot discuss this on the phone. You must come to me."
"I'm not flying back to New York to beg you for crumbs of information. I don't have time for it!"
"I'm not in New York. I'm in Belfast. I have offices here."
Sara got the address. "I have to arrange transportation. I'll see you when I get there."
After making the phone call Sara returned to the bedroom she had woken up in. She needed to spend some time thinking about the images that came with the toy pistol.
"Niamh , can I be alone for a while? Don't worry, I -will- be talking to myself."
Yes, Niamh remembered the last time Sara talked to herself. She left the room and closed the door.
"Danny! Damn it all! I need to talk to you! Someone . . ." Sara slid down a wall to the floor and covered her face. She didn't know she could feel any worse than when John died. Now she knew her whole existence was just a product of Irons' machinations. She didn't know who the hell she was.
After a couple of minutes of quiet someone poked his head in the door. "Do you want . . . "
"Get out!" Sara growled; she felt bad about being rude.
Her mind was busy making connections. "So I'm a clone? I was born in a damn laboratory?"
"No" Danny had arrived. "Karen Bronte's mother was your surrogate mother. You were born of woman. You did know a mother's touch."
"Then I'm Karen Bronte's sister, except I'm a clone of Elizabeth so I'm Karen's grandmother. And if Ian is the son of Elizabeth and Irons, then I'm his mother . . . 'genetically' speaking." Sara was getting slightly hysterical.
"Kinda gives a whole new meaning to Oedipus complex, doesn't it?"
"Yes, where's Ian?" Sara sat up in the bed. She wanted to confirm that the memories she had just witnessed did indeed belong to Ian.
"That's what we were waiting to ask you. Ian has been missing since you sent the rogues away, three days ago." Niamh hadn't met Ian but the fact he was missing was thoroughly discussed while waiting for Sara to wake up.
"Home. I sent them all home. Not very imaginative but more humane than dropping them in the middle of the ocean."
"Well, then perhaps Ian is home?"
"Yeah, it's worth a try. Where's a phone?" She got out of bed, noticing that she was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt - not her clothes.
Sara called Irons; she assumed that was where Ian felt his home was. "Hey, Irons, has Ian shown up there? Like 3 days ago?"
"No, Sara. Why? Have you misplaced him?"
"Eh, sort of. We were attacked by a bunch of thugs then. By the time we got rid of them, Ian was missing."
"Well, Sara, you must try harder to keep track of your employees."
"Huh?"
"Something else happened 3 days ago that severed my link with the Witchblade, and broke my connection with you and Ian. I am no longer privy to the inner circle, so to speak. Ian is bound to the Witchblade. He is your responsibility now."
"Irons, don't mess with me! What do you know about Ian's whereabouts."
"There, you asked a question I can answer. However, Sara, we cannot discuss this on the phone. You must come to me."
"I'm not flying back to New York to beg you for crumbs of information. I don't have time for it!"
"I'm not in New York. I'm in Belfast. I have offices here."
Sara got the address. "I have to arrange transportation. I'll see you when I get there."
After making the phone call Sara returned to the bedroom she had woken up in. She needed to spend some time thinking about the images that came with the toy pistol.
"Niamh , can I be alone for a while? Don't worry, I -will- be talking to myself."
Yes, Niamh remembered the last time Sara talked to herself. She left the room and closed the door.
"Danny! Damn it all! I need to talk to you! Someone . . ." Sara slid down a wall to the floor and covered her face. She didn't know she could feel any worse than when John died. Now she knew her whole existence was just a product of Irons' machinations. She didn't know who the hell she was.
After a couple of minutes of quiet someone poked his head in the door. "Do you want . . . "
"Get out!" Sara growled; she felt bad about being rude.
Her mind was busy making connections. "So I'm a clone? I was born in a damn laboratory?"
"No" Danny had arrived. "Karen Bronte's mother was your surrogate mother. You were born of woman. You did know a mother's touch."
"Then I'm Karen Bronte's sister, except I'm a clone of Elizabeth so I'm Karen's grandmother. And if Ian is the son of Elizabeth and Irons, then I'm his mother . . . 'genetically' speaking." Sara was getting slightly hysterical.
"Kinda gives a whole new meaning to Oedipus complex, doesn't it?"