PART EIGHT
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There is nothing that does not have its mandate.
-Mencius
The fire lasted for two more days. It spread over five hundred city blocks and decimated a two-mile long swath of the city, including the entirety of Chinatown. Added to the earthquake, it left nearly three thousand dead, over two hundred thousand injured and countless without homes.
No one was ever quite sure how many died in Chinatown or how many truly required emergency assistance. Years of prejudice and mistrust between the city at large and this immigrant population had made most Chinese wary of seeking state help. For the most part, relief was organized by and for the community only. After all, they'd been doing it for years beforehand anyway.
Over these days and those immediately following them, Cole left the house only once, to attend a service for Abelone. Paige chose to remain behind, believing her presence to be unwelcome. Cole's probably wasn't much appreciated either but he thought he owed a debt to the dead. Paige didn't disabuse him of the notion; a little guilt seemed healthy for him.
The rest of the time he wandered the Manor like a ghost, silent and haunted. He helped where allowed, mostly be shadowing Betsy upon her return. Unlike Paige's previous offers to help, Betsy didn't seem to mind. She gave him any busy work she could, seeming to intuitively pick up on his need to keep his mind occupied. She even managed to elicit a smile from him when she presented his newly clean and mended coat for approval. How the maid had ever managed to get the blood stains out, Paige would never know.
When Gertrude wasn't in the attic spot-checking their preparations for the temporal work, she was re-organizing the house or receiving professional-looking and uniformed visitors that were in charge of emergency services for the city. Paige was fairly certain a substantial check had exchanged hands.
Paige herself remained at something of a loose end. Mostly she just read over any of Gertrude's available spells and practiced her casting to keep her skills sharp. Sometimes Cole would come and silently observe her, but more often than not she was left alone.
A week after the earthquake, Gertrude approached her. "It's time, dear."
Paige changed out of her shirtwaist and skirt, corset and petticoat and slipped back into her light halter-top and Capris. She felt at once both liberated and vulnerable. Strange, the things one grew used to.
The spell was performed in the attic, Paige standing to the side while Gertrude actually cast it and Cole…
Well, she didn't really know why Cole was there.
"So, explain to me again why he's here," she said, jerking a thumb in his direction.
"I was wondering the same thing," Cole said. The sling was gone but he still held his arm awkwardly, the scar permanent.
"Insurance. Regardless of whether or not Paige actually landed where she did due to your presence, I'd prefer not to take the chance of her being sent wherever your future self is residing at the moment. Hopefully, this should ground her to this particular location."
It sounded like just a touch of bullshit to Paige, but erring on the side of caution and all that, so she didn't object. Gertrude handed her a piece of jasper. "Now, be sure not to lose this one. I plan to create a temporal block to prevent anyone else from interfering with this time again and you won't be able to come back."
"Believe me, I don't ever plan on doing so." On impulse, Paige hugged the older witch. "Thanks. For everything."
Gertrude patted her on the back. "You're welcome, dear."
The two women separated and then Paige was left to stare at Cole. At a loss as to what else to do, she stuck her hand out. "Hey, I know we aren't friends or anything but, um, good luck."
He looked at her hand as if surprised at the offer. Slowly, he placed her hand in hers. "Best of luck to you, too."
They dropped physical contact as soon as it was convenient to do so. Paige flopped her arms against her sides. "Okay, oh great and powerful Oz. Send me on home."
Gertrude scattered the proper ingredients in her cauldron, Paige mentally checking them off along with the other witch. Gertrude stuck a match, murmured the spell and lit the mixture. Paige had just enough time to wonder if she'd heard the words correctly before the smoke bubbled over the edge of the pot, snaked its way across the floor and surrounded her…
When the smoke cleared, Gertrude looked with satisfaction on the empty attic.
"You always were the meddlesome one."
Gertrude smiled. "As if you were one to talk. That boy's coat was well beyond any normal repair."
Bright blue lights materialized out of the ceiling and pulled together to form an amused Betsy. "It was hardly personal gain."
"Did I say that?"
"Of course not. Perish the thought." Betsy looked around the attic. "I truly will miss this old horror."
"It's hardly old. Or a horror, for that matter."
"You weren't the one in charge of cleaning it."
"So, where do you think we should finally retire to?"
"Oh, I don't know. I've always wanted to see the Caribbean."
"Sounds splendid."
Whitelighter placed her hand over witch's. "You saw it all, didn't you? From the moment that girl arrived, you knew exactly how it was going to end."
"Now that, indeed, is a secret I will never tell."
Betsy shook her head. "At least you might have warned them."
"And ruin the surprise?"
Betsy laughed. "You never change."
"In the words of those who came before me," Gertrude squeezed her fingers, "blessed be."
Betsy smiled. "Blessed be."
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"Are you sure she didn't leave a note?
Piper sighed as Phoebe paced. "I'm sure."
"So, where could she have gone? She'd been out for hours."
"Phoebe, seriously, why do you think I would know? More importantly, why do you think I would've found out in the five minutes since you last asked me?"
"Sorry, sorry. It's just – I'm worried."
"I know. Me, too."
Paige had definitely been working on a spell earlier, but Piper didn't recognize the ingredients. It was a strange combination of plants associated with, among other things, traveling, protection and clairvoyance. At least she now knew why her laurel kept disappearing.
Just what had her little sister been up to?
"No luck scrying?" Phoebe planted herself over Piper's shoulder to stare at the map of the city.
"Wherever she is, it doesn't look like she's in San – wait." The crystal at the end of the chain trembled for a moment, circled rapidly, then slammed itself onto the map. "Um, okay. It looks like she's…here?"
"Piper." Phoebe pointed toward Paige's used cauldron. It started to wobble, its movement growing in intensity until it shook so violently it knocked itself off the table. On impact, it shattered, spewing out smoke so thick for a moment it completely covered the attic.
"Phoebe!"
"I'm," coughing, "I'm here!"
Piper's eyes watered as the grey drifted apart, revealing her youngest sister sitting in the middle of the floor and looking a little dazed.
"Paige!" Phoebe practically tackled her. Piper joined in on the group hug somewhat more sedately. "Where have you been?"
"That's, uh – Phoebe, I'd like to breathe a little." The redhead coughed as her sister loosened her hold. "How long was I gone?"
"At least five or six hours," Piper said.
"That's all?" Paige grinned. "Boy, wait 'til I tell you what happened to me!"
"Matthews? Who are these women?"
A male voice certainly not belonging to Leo. Phoebe was the first to see him, face going to dead white. She practically choked on the name. "Cole."
"Cole? What?" Piper looked in the same direction and saw, to her shocked dismay, Cole Turner standing in the corner, appearing not at all dead. In fact, he appeared to be the exact opposite of dead, if somewhat more disheveled and thinner and….younger than she'd last seen him.
What the hell was going on?
Before she could raise her hands and activate her powers, Paige scrambled to her feet. "Cole? Why are you still here?"
"Me?" He looked confused. "I'm supposed to be here. Why are you still here? And where's Mrs. Mayweather?"
"She's – oh that sneaky, little – I'm gonna kill her."
"Excuse me?" Piper said. "Would someone care to explain what's going on here?"
"Why isn't he dead?" Phoebe spat, glaring at her ex-husband. "You told me he was dead."
Cole blinked. "I'm sorry, miss. Have we met?"
"It's another trick, isn't it? Another one of your goddamn-"
"Phoebe, whoa, it's not a trick. It's, well, it's my fuck-up." Paige rubbed her temples. "Everyone just sit down and try not to kill each other for a couple minutes. This is going to be a looooong story…"
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END PART EIGHT