CHAPTER THREE…Earth Plane
"We are each of us angels with only one wing,
And we can only fly by embracing one another."
Luciano de Crescenzo
The room was utterly dark and would have been silent had it not been for the ticking of his clock. Ian was lying on his side, facing away from the door, when he opened his eyes, half expecting to see a woman beside his bed. You'll come back? He heard himself ask. Yes, soon. She had replied, and he knew she would keep her word. A dream, he debated with himself, and despite the fact that it certainly was, he could not help but believe it to be more. If something like the Witchblade can exist, then why not…how could he define what had occurred, this meeting? He was curious if any of Irons' tomes had references to, what had she called it, dream-walking. After he had made his obligatory stop to see Irons and Dr. Immo after breakfast, he would check the library for material that might explain what had occurred. A rush of excitement coursed through him, but he caught himself before sitting up abruptly and hurrying to his closet. Ian was very aware of the camera in his room, even in the dark; its night vision would have been enabled. Its constant eye was ever vigilant, and he knew the first thing Irons would do once he regained consciousness was to scan through the tapes, noticing anything questionable. He'd felt the lash too many times for things, inconsequential. Irons would have nothing to help prove that Ian had not behaved properly. Ian gritted his teeth just thinking of what his 'father' would do when he discovered that his 'son' had actually acted of his own accord, shadowing Sara. Hopefully, Ian told himself, Irons would be too preoccupied with recuperating to care.
Ian shifted his position until he was lying on his back, reached up and rubbed the non-existent sleep from his eyes. He then rolled; facing the camera, knowing it worked just as well in the dark and covered his mouth in a yawn. Pushing the covers off, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched. Once his feet hit the floor he stood, twisting one way then the other, hearing the familiar crack as he adjusted his spine. He half turned and pulled the sheets, making his bed, perfectly, in the dark. Five-thirty, every morning he followed the same routine, except Fridays when he stripped and replaced the sheets and blanket. The bed made, he hit the floor and did his morning stretching exercises, making sure all his muscles and joints were warm and flexible. He then did one hundred push-ups, flipped onto his back and did one hundred modified sit-up/ab-crunches. From his back, he swept his legs over his head, and while maintaining his handstand position, he did another one hundred push-ups. As he was lowering himself from his last handstand push-up, with the grace of an acrobat, slowly, painstakingly, brought his legs straight down until his body was bent like a human hairpin. He unbent gracefully to a standing position, never once did his face or body show any sign of strain. Breathing in deeply and slowly exhaling, Ian completed his brief warm-up.
The room was still dark as Ian made his way to his closet and chest of drawers. Pulling his attire from the drawers and closet was simple, a small smile slipped across his face briefly, it helped that black went with everything. He gathered his clothing, entered the bathroom for a brief, rinsing shower. Flicking the bathroom light on, he locked the door, hung his suit and placed his fresh undergarments on the shelf. He started the shower, twisted his hair into a knot, so as not to get it wet, stripped off his underwear and stepped into the tepid water. Turning slowly, pausing to grab the soap and worked it into a lather. He proceeded to scrub the sheen off his body acquired during his workout. The soap was returned to its niche. Ian rinsed, snapped off the water, snatched the towel off the rod and dried himself. Minutes later, he was dressed and his hair combed and carefully pulled back. He unlocked the bathroom door, after gathering the wet laundry and using the light switch next to the bathroom, he turned on his bedroom light. He deposited the used laundry into the closet laundry-chute. He refilled his pockets that he'd emptied the night before, making sure that nothing would jingle. He pulled on his gloves, removed his ring from the drawer and set it firmly on his finger, over the gloves. Pulling his coat off the hanger, he placed his knit cap in his coat pocket, draped it over his arm then carefully closed the closet door. As he was readying himself to face the world, he decided breakfast would give him the extra energy he needed to face Dr. Immo and the comatose Irons.
Before flicking off the lights in his room, he glanced around and made sure everything was in place. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, he unlocked his bedroom door and stepped into the hallway, pulling the door and making sure it clicked, insuring that it was indeed locked. He knew if Irons were up and around, the lock would not deter him, but he felt it gave him a small bit of control over his life, such as it was. He headed for the kitchen, trying to look as morose and angst ridden as was usual. To keep his mind off the evening encounter; he planned a substantial breakfast as he headed down the hall, oblivious to the wealth and beauty that hung from the walls and irreplaceable items in various glass cages.
**********
After placing the katana on her back, she stepped off the Rug which promptly shook itself like a wet dog, then whirled into a tight roll. Once the Rug had completed its shifting she stood back and extended her right forearm. In the blink of an eye, the Rug had converted into a multicolored Oroboros, the representation of a dragon holding its tail in its mouth and settled upon her arm. Sam called out to the two monks, and asked them politely to accompany her back to the monastery. They would have attended her without her request, but she wanted to make sure they understood that she did not take them for granted. Her requests and gratefulness at first, had perplexed the brothers, but they soon came to realize that she was sincere in her appreciation for their guidance and assistance. The more they came to understand her ways; the more they understood why the Divinities had burdened her with the Power. It was true that the Power was a Gift, but the responsibilities that were inherent could drive the Chosen Individual to the Dark side, insanity, or death. She had not let the Power consume her; her self control was extraordinary for One who was not raised within the monastery with its' ingrained instruction.
There was a small game trail that led from the beach, over the cliffs into the dense forest to the monastery. Like the brothers walking before her, she was careful to stay on the path, so as not to tread recklessly upon the life that burst forth around her. Sam heard the birds announcing the approach of the 'Walking Trees', she still had difficulty how she was able to 'translate'. As she walked, she considered her discussion with the man who had wrapped himself around her fourth chakra or the Anahata, the heart chakra which is the center of emotion, meditation and prayer. Recalling the conversation between the two of them, she came to realize that he had been dressed in a black tee shirt and black briefs. She smiled at the memory, recalling what her late-husband had lightheartedly once said, 'just 'cuz you're on a diet, don't mean you can't look at the menu' when she caught him looking at younger women; it had become their private joke, one she knew the monks wouldn't understand. She called out to the monks to make haste. The Master would be able to give her guidance on how to help the ethereally bound man. They reached the monastery in record time and her request to see the Master was delivered. The Master was meditating and would be at least an hour before he would grant her an audience.
Sam decided to take this time to meditate, or she referred to it 'us westerners call it a siesta'. Winding her way though the maze of corridors, she made it to her cell and flopped gratefully on the futon. A sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes against the day. Suddenly her mind was stricken by a series of visions, in fast forward, of people and places she never knew. A dark-haired, green-eyed woman was intently reading a file; a bracelet on her arm had swirling red colors. An Asian man, whose wife and child were elsewhere. The man was at work with the green-eyed woman. The Asian woman was looking around frantically and saw her little girl in the street, attempting to retrieve her ball. The woman was shouting and a truck was bearing down on the child.
Sam sat upright, even with her eyes open she could see the scene playing over and over, and the auras around the females were in a state of extreme flux. Knowing it was a long shot; Sam reached out and found the man she had tagged earlier. Finding him was easy, now to communicate with him was another task. Following his life thread, to the tag she'd put on him, she attempted to thought-speak to him.
********
Ian had just finished with his consultation with Immo after his hearty breakfast and was heading into the city. Parking and locking the car in the warehouse, he had just pulled on his watch cap and was entering Central Park when he felt her voice. He stopped near a tree and inhaled abruptly, focusing on the voice that resonated through his bones.
Do you know any of these people? Before he could answer he received a flash of images. Sara, Danny Woo and Woo's family, the intensity of the images nearly staggered him.
Yes," he answered. He searched for words to describe his relationship to Sara and those around her and he was bluntly interrupted.
The little girl needs your help! You must save her. Now!
He shook his head, "No, my duty is to Sara."
Would your Sara approve of you allowing the child to die, when you could save her life? The voice within did not wait for his answer. I will help you get where you need to go; this child must Not die! Unexpectedly, Power swept through him, his near super-human speed was enhanced and he found himself propelled to the area where his assistance was needed.
Sara was going over a file with Danny when she received a vision regarding Danny's daughter, in danger.
"Come on Danny, we've got to go." Sara grabbed her jacket; her bracelet's stone swirling angrily.
"What's up, Pez? What's the rush? Danny snagged his jacket and ran to catch up with her.
"Something's wrong, Danny, I can't explain. Where's your daughter's school?"
"My daughter? Give me the keys, and you explain while I drive." He slipped quickly into the driver's seat and snapped his safety belt into place, then started the car. Sara grabbed the red light and put it on the dash and fastened her seatbelt. Red light flashing, they pulled into the busy New York traffic.
"I just…I just had a really bad feeling she might be in trouble." Sara mumbled.
"You're telling me we are red-lighting to my daughter's school because of a feeling? Sara!'' Danny nearly stopped the car.
"Please Danny, trust me." Sara looked at him with her hang dog eyes.
"Damn it, Pez," sighed Danny. He shook his head,"a feeling." Ian stopped in the alley by the school and watched the crowd. Soon he saw Mrs. Woo come out of the red brick building holding her daughter's hand. The little girl reminded Ian of the china dolls he'd seen while accompanying Irons to meetings in China. The little girl held a red ball in her free hand. Another mother was approaching the school and began a conversation with Mrs. Woo. Ian overheard the word play-date and Lee released her daughter's hand to find her planner on the bottom of her purse. The little girl, realizing she had a moment of freedom, began to bounce her ball. Ian shook his head, his invisible companion was quiet, but he could still sense her.
"I don't see a problem," he muttered.
Wait for it, you will see and be there to pull the child out of harm's way.
Ian shook his head; "I don't see how this will help Lady Sara."
Lady Sara? Sam noted sincerity in his reply.
He expected her to laugh and was surprised when she didn't.
Is she the green-eyed woman with dark hair in the vision?
"Yes," Ian nodded.
That explains…Go Now!
Ian saw the ball bounce and hit the edge of the step, aiming it into the street. The child ran after her ball, not noticing the white delivery van rapidly approaching. Ian ran, leapt over a car, activating its alarm and grabbed the child out of the way of the van, turning and stepped into the next lane.
Sara and Danny were rounding the corner and saw a black cloaked figure grab a child out of the oncoming van's path and to their horror step into the lane directly in front of the path of an on coming loaded school bus that was attempting to stop. Danny slammed on the breaks. As soon as their car stopped, he and Sara burst out of the car toward the bus, which had screeched to a halt. Danny went around the far side of the bus and Sara took the side closest to her. Distantly she heard Mrs. Woo scream. Danny and Sara met in front of the bus. There was no evidence that the girl and the dark figure had ever stepped into the bus's path.
Ian felt himself and the child he was holding swept up and for a moment time around him seemed to pause as they were lifted to an area in front of the school. The little girl seemed asleep, but he was aware that things had halted and there was only the sound of Sam's murmuring reassuring voice. No time for questions. He found himself standing, looking down he realized how delicate the small girl was. She started to open her eyes as he set her down. Confusion was replaced with happiness as Ian handed her the ball he had no memory of capturing. Time seemed to resume, the city noises and movements, with this simple act. Ian could not resist stroking the child's fine black hair; and he gave her a small smile as he pointed to her mother still standing on the steps.
Sara spun around and glimpsed Nottingham smooth the girl's hair and hand her the wayward ball. She watched, dumbfounded, as Nottingham turned the girl and sent her in the direction of her mother.
"Momma," yelled the little girl.
Sara saw Mrs. Woo turn, she glanced back to where Nottingham had stood, but as usual he had disappeared.
"Danny," Sara called, "She's okay."
"How?" Then he saw his wife snatch up their daughter and hug her tight. The alarm that had over taken him ebbed, and he ran to his daughter and wife. Sara followed. How Nottingham could have known, better yet, how he crossed three lanes of traffic without detection, she wondered. The stone had returned to its regular red state.
Ian stopped moving about a half mile from his encounter with the child. He tried to remember how he got out of the bus's way and back near the school.
Weren't you ever taught to look both ways before crossing a street? The voice was gently chiding, but he didn't mind.
"You saved our lives." He said quietly, leaning his head against the cool brick. "Why didn't you save the girl?"
Many reasons, but mainly your attachment to them was important. I'm somewhat attached to you, probably from your earlier visit.
He could almost feel her smile, although, what concerned him was how weak she sounded. "Are you okay?"
Hey, sweeping men off their feet is my specialty, but don't let it go to your head.
In spite of himself, Ian smiled. "You better get some rest," he whispered, not really wanting her to go.
I will, especially if I have to keep dragging you around. Lady Sara is very lucky to have you, but do me a favor, don't mention me.
"Our secret?' He could feel her energy weakening.
Our secret, for now. I must go, beware the Evil that Binds you. Her voice touched him deeply.
"What evil?" Ian realized he was alone. She said that Lady Sara is very lucky to have me; he considered her words and came to understand that she was sincere in her observation. He turned and started heading back to the precinct; the Power that had infused him was gone, yet he did not feel drained. A question kept tumbling through his head, "Is this what it is like to have a friend?" Every time he thought of his mystery woman, he felt many things he could not describe. There was no longing like he had for his Lady, but this female's presence was comforting, protective and…he searched for the word…true. As he walked, he hoped she had made it safely back to her body. This thought reminded him that he was going to research Irons' library for any mention of out of body travel or now, communication. He hurried back to the estate to delve into the library. The ringing of his cell phone disturbed his quiet contemplation. Impatiently he flipped it open, and recognized the number from Immo's office.
"Yes," said Ian curtly.
"Mr. Irons is awake." Immo paused, "And he is asking for you."
"I'm on my way." Ian kept the anxiety and reluctance out of his voice, and disconnected the call. He stopped walking and leaned wearily against the side of a building. All of his resources would come into play when he faced Irons; he could only hope that Irons would not see how he'd begun to think for himself, and wanted to be his own man. He forced himself to keep walking, going over any possible transgressions that Irons might discover. He wondered if Irons was the Evil that she warned him about.
**********
After Danny had assured himself and his wife that his daughter was unharmed, he turned his attention to Sara who was scanning the area for the individual that had swept his little girl out of danger. Approaching Sara, Danny already knew what her response would be regarding Una, but he had to ask and hope she'd give him some reply.
"So, Sara," he was certain he had her interest when she focused her frustrated, yet relieved, green eyes on his. "How'd you know about Una?" His stance reinforced the fact that he wanted answers, arms crossed. He watched his partner squirm; lying was not her strong suit. He knew her well.
"Danny, I just," Sara searched for the right way to tell him, without really telling him. "Had a really bad feeling that something was going to happen in front of her school. Hell, call it a premonition." She looked at him imploringly, "I had no idea what to expect."
Which was true, she reflected. That had been Nottingham, but how did he know, she mentally shook her head, why would he care about Danny's daughter? How did he clear three lanes of traffic and then hand Una her ball as if nothing happened?
Danny snapped his fingers in front of her. "You okay Pez?"
"Yeah, I'm just trying to figure out what happened." Absentmindedly, she rubbed the bracelet, as though a genie would appear and grant her the information she sought.
"Better head back." Sara looked around hoping to glimpse her "stalker". Realizing what she was doing almost made her laugh.
She actually wanted to talk to him.
**********
Sam slowly opened her eyes and met the concerned gaze of the Master. She tried to sit up to give proper respect put he put his hand on her shoulder to keep her on her back. The burbling of the fountain outside her window was reassuring, and she relaxed back into the futon.
"Forgive me, Master," her voice was raspy, "a child was in danger and I had to help."
The Master nodded knowingly, "I understand more than you realize. You will be leaving the Sanctuary soon." Pride mingled with sadness in his eyes. "You have other things to learn, and we will not send you into the world unprepared." He smiled. "Tonight, you will rest some, and in the early morning you will travel the 'planes with twelve Brothers who will help gain information that will assist you with your first assignment, who apparently is the young man you were going to ask me about." He was amused at her surprise. "You are not the only one with Power, he gently scolded her. He patted her hand, and left her to her thoughts.
She was so afraid of the Evil the man would face. She was thankful the Brothers were on her side.
**********
The ride made back to the station was in silence. Danny heard the truth in his partner's words, and the confusion in her eyes matched her demeanor. Stopped at a red light, Danny closed his eyes and the scene of his daughter in the path of a van replayed. If it hadn't been for the stranger, he forced his eyes open and tried to distract his thoughts with the traffic. The honking horns, loud music rattled the automobile and drivers shouting obscenities weren't enough to drag his mind away from what might have been. Even with Sara's warning, his cherished daughter would have been dead. He hadn't prayed in a long time, but he took a few seconds to thank Whoever for having someone who cared to act selflessly. Hastily he blinked back the tears, hoping Sara hadn't noticed, yet knowing she would understand.
Sara pretended to look out the side window, giving Danny the space he needed. She'd come to the same conclusion that her warning would not have been enough. How would Nottingham greet her, she wondered? Would he swagger, his heroics might warrant it? Rub her nose in the fact that she was too late, didn't know how to use the Witchblade? She stared at the stone melded into the metal and wondered why the Blade's warning had been so late.
Once they returned to the precinct, neither of them referred to the incident. They'd been partners long enough to know each of them had to digest and deal with what had occurred their own way.
***********
The Master shuffled away from Sam's cell, he knew she would endure circumstances that no man or woman on this earth was meant to know. He recognized her unique qualities when she first entered the monastery as a fifty-five year old woman. The Prophecy had foretold her coming and she had met all the challenges, beyond what any of the Elders had even considered, especially for a Woman, and an American, at that. It was her own life experiences that formed her core; the training and the Divinities bestowal of Power had irrevocably changed her. The Power granted the ability to Heal, Clairvoyance and other abilities she would have to discover on her own.
Samsara, retired from a covert governmental agency, now had the body and of a woman in her mid-twenties, with the agility of a gymnast and dancer. Her own life experience would help her use the experiences the Divinities had seen fit to bequeath, enhanced abilities and skills and remarkable Powers. The Artifacts had recognized her worthiness and were ready to serve and share their own peculiar gifts and Powers. A poignant smile flitted across his face, in a sense; she was the daughter he never had. He thanked the Divinities for allowing him time to know her; and prayed for her continued safety. A young noviate waited in the hall, the Master spoke briefly to him, and made sure the Brothers he had chosen would accompany Sam on her astral travels were ready. Then he made his way to his chamber for a cup of tea and to sleep.
**********
As soon as the shift was over Sara headed downstairs to the gym. She stopped by the locker room. Sara changed, pulled her hair back into a ponytail and went to workout.
Rushing through her warm-up repertoire of stretches, push-ups, ab-crunches and a few extreme stretches, she wrapped her hands and descended like a Fury upon the punching bag. Weaving and bobbing, she smacked and pummeled her imagined adversary. No pain, no gain, her mindset blended with her attacks.
Sweating and breathless, it took the sound of the large blondish janitor scooting his bucket as he mopped the floor to jolt her out of her battering mania. She felt him stop and watch without speaking; he went back to his job of cleaning. A sparring mirror captured his reflection and she was able to see the man's disheveled hair and his seemingly sad expression; somewhere in the back of her brain she recognized his face but couldn't recall his name. When he noticed she was observing him, he nodded. He moved out of the range of the mirror, but the plop-swish of his mop assured her that she was not alone.
Wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, she decided shower and then home. She unwrapped her hands, as she proceeded to the locker room. Grabbing her towel, soap and clothes she entered the shower area. The room had recently been cleaned and smelled of chlorine and a supposedly eco-friendly disinfectant. Hanging her clothes just outside her shower stall, she draped the towel over the curtain, placed her soap on a tiny shelf, reached in and started the water.
While the water heated, she stripped down and gratefully stepped into the now steaming water. Turning slowly, the hot water pelted her and she snagged the soap. She scrubbed her skin mercilessly, as though the scented cleanser could remove the acrid taste of the day. Her mind drifted with the showers steam.
Around noon, Danny called home to talk to Una, just to hear her voice; Sara remembered. Throughout the day, there had been times when she could not meet her partners' gaze. By the end of their shift, things between them were pretty much back to normal. He did ask her if she recognized the individual who seemed to fly in to grab Una then zip to the sidewalk. "Wonder if the Olympics knew about this persons speed", Danny joked.
It wasn't Nottingham's appearance today that bothered her. His actions were what had her unbalanced. For the second time that day, she wanted to speak to him.
Rinsing off the soap and the days dregs took little time. She was ready to go home. Flicking off the water, she snatched the towel from the rod and dried herself vigorously. She stepped out and dressed automatically. She retrieved her soap, gathered her wet and sweaty items and returned to her locker for her boots and to stuff her back pack with her bagged wet clothes. The locker door snapped closed as she was on her way to her Buell. As she donned her helmet, she scrutinized the buildings around her. No sign of her shadow and no answers.
She took the short way home, avoiding a major crush of traffic. Stopping at her building, she again scanned the buildings and the deep shadows. Still no "tail". Once her helmet was off and cycle secured, she jogged to the door, and in one fluid movement inserted, turned the key and entered her loft.
Turning, she clicked the extra locks into place. Placing her helmet on a rack near the door, she peeled off the black leather jacket and hung it underneath the rack. The dirty clothes she'd bagged were removed from her pack and tossed into her laundry basket. She glared at the overflowing basket and made a mental note to do laundry…again.
Flicking on the lights, the kitchen and living room were a welcome sight. Considering her day, she headed for the fridge with her mind set on the piece of chocolate cheesecake her "shadow" had left for her a couple days earlier. The desert was just as large as when she found it. Today's incident was truly reason enough to truly appreciate her decadent treat. Unwrapping the carefully sealed cake, she poured herself a glass of milk, got a fork from her silverware drawer and rested it on her plate. Picking them up, she wandered over to the fire escape to see if he had left anything else. Nothing. The bare metal platform by her window was empty. Sara tried to push aside her disappointment.
What did she care anyway, he was just one of Iron's killing machines? Her reason and heart were in conflict; he risked his life for someone he didn't know. Perhaps, Irons had something to do with this, except there was nothing to gain. It was common knowledge everything had a price. If Una's life was saved by Irons or one of his "associates"; they would have left a calling card, deliberated Sara.
Suddenly she had the vision of Irons taking the Blade and running it through his throat.
"You made me an orphan, Sara," echoed Ian's voice. Nottingham's lost brown eyes accused her, his words were like the chords she heard when told that her father was dead. The memory of that event was seared into her memory.
She glanced at the cheesecake and glass of milk, desire suddenly gone. Sara returned them to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of water and flopped down on her couch. Opening the bottle, she sucked the needed moisture. Closing her eyes, she put her feet up on her coffee table and tried not to rehash the days' events. Her eyes kept opening and drifting to the window, until she set down her water to stand and readied herself for bed.
There's always tomorrow, she told herself.