"Okay luv, just relax. We'll give it another go in a minute." Obediently, Rahne opened her eyes and tried to ease some of the tension in her muscles. Betsy hadn't forgotten about her breakdownin Liverpool, announcing shortly after that she was going to stay at Muir Island for a while to help Rahne 'sort herself out'.

If at first Rahne had wondered whether it was a simple excuse to spend more time with the new resident, Neal, she had soon been disabused of that notion. Betsy had quickly forced her into daily sessions in which she tried to untangle Rahne's thoughts. But though the basic idea was similar to classic psychoanalysis, Betsy's methods bore little resemblance to standard psychiatric therapy, being a little more direct.

"Right luv. Are you ready to go again?" Rahne nodded, resigned to these seemingly never-ending intrusions into her mind. Taking a deep breath, she shut her eyes and allowed Betsy to place her hands lightly over her temples.

Okay. Here we go…

The walls of the small room, the minimal furnishings, even the sides of her head seemed somehow to fall away, leaving her standing with Betsy on a blank open plain populated with impossibly convoluted shapes and structures. The telepath had called it a psychic projection of her mind, but it was disturbing for Rahne to have to associate these garish, unsettling surroundings with her own thoughts.

I want to take another look at the blocks you've put up, Betsy told her. You've locked your powers away behind these barriers, and they'll need to come down before you can deal with everything properly.

Rahne sighed, and reluctantly tried to focus her thoughts toward the blocks that Betsy had pointed out to her – walls she had erected herself. The vivid landscape rippled as though preparing to shift position, but then with a waver it settled back into its original form. I can't do this Betsy.

You can luv. The telepath's mental voice was insistent. It's not that hard.

Well then you do it! Despite herself, Rahne couldn't hold back the burst of frustration.

I could. If I wanted to, I could break through them for you – but in the long run that wouldn't help you luv. You wouldn't have dealt with whatever's causing them. Outside solutions seem simple, I know – having someone else fix you so that everything's okay – but when it's your mind, the easiest way out is almost never the best. I can help you with this, but in the end you've got to do it for yourself to make it effective.

Fine.Again she sat back, concentrating on imagining a regular breathing pattern to try to steady herself, although oxygen was hardly an issue in this place. Finally, feeling some approximation of centeredness, she tried once more to focus on the blocks. She thought she could sense them now, seemingly just out of sight, around some non-existent corner on her open mental landscape. And this time the surroundings shifted, melting together and reforming into different shapes. Solid, high, imposing shapes.

Excellent. Betsy had moved too, with a lack of effort that Rahne noted with resigned jealousy. You've found them. Now take a closer look.

Rahne moved forward to examine the wall in front of her. At first it appeared to be uniform, a harmonized riot of colour blending and swirling through a smooth surface, but closer scrutiny revealed distinct forms in the confusion, obviously separate from the other components while still linked to them. What are they?

Look closer again. Rahne obeyed, curiosity getting the better of her. Focussing all her attention on one of the individual forms inside the wider pattern, she thought that she could make out something more within the flash and swirl of colour. The form resolved itself into a human figure, at once strange and somehow familiar. Compellingly familiar – she extended her hand toward the wall, trying to touch it.

Behind her, Betsy let out the beginning of a warning, but it was too late, her fingers had made contact with the surface of the wall. The colours started to swirl around her, and then with a jolt, she felt a surge of something akin to energy. Images poured through her, implacable and inexorable, battering relentlessly. There were voices, snatches of speech running around and through the visions, interspersed with flashes of fire and crowds and fear. Demon… Sent to us by Satan… We love you for everything you are… The Lord has a plan… Demon… We're here to protect you… There isna anything ye can do for a demon… Bestial, dangerous menace… We trust you lass… An inhuman creature that knows nothing but violence… We're here to protect you… Demon… Scourge… Divine punishment… Eliminate sin… Cleansing scourge of flame… Eradicate all traces… Run lass…we'll be okay… Eradicate all traces… Eradicate the devil spawn… Demon… Demon… Demon....

For a moment Rahne struggled against the current of memories, fighting to break through, but she was overwhelmed, weighed down by the force of so much aggregated fear. It was everywhere, all around her, locking her in, and she was losing her hold….

……

She opened her eyes and found herself back in the small room at the Research Centre, just as bare and plain as it had been before. Betsy was still sitting across from her, seemingly as composed as always, but smelling a good deal more worried than Rahne had ever seen her before. "Good, you're back luv." Was that a note of relief in her voice?

Rahne frowned, trying to gather her fractured thoughts together. "What happened?"

"I pulled you back out here - you got too close to the block. Sorry, should've warned you about that. You tried to engage with it without being prepared, and then you couldn't control it - It caused a feedback overload, basically funnelling everything that created the block in the first place right back through you all at once. But all you need to do is to…."

"There isn't anything I need to do, Betsy," Rahne interrupted. "I can't do it. You saw what happened. I couldn't control anything. I'm sorry. I know you and Moira and everyone else want me to get through this, but I can't. I just can't…." She was on the verge of tears.

The English girl gave her a searching look. "You know you're not doing it for us, luv," she said quietly. "You should be doing it for yourself. And I know you can do it." Rahne stared back at her helplessly, feeling to defeated even to reply. Another probing glance and Betsy seemed to change her mind. "But not today, eh? We'll give it a rest for now, until you think you're ready to try it again." Rahne nodded, although she didn't think she'd ever be ready to try that again.

Perhaps the telepath heard that thought, but she said nothing more about it, instead getting to her feet with a new fresh smile. "Anyway, we'd better bust a move – got to get to the trial to see Moisy's moment of stardom…."

……

The public gallery was already nearly full by the time the members of Excalibur arrived. While Sean took Neal off to be introduced to one of his colleagues from Interpol on the far side of the gallery, the girls took seats in the front row at Betsy's insistence (and quite probably manipulation of some earlier arrivals).

The courtroom was laid out below them – the judge and the barristers, arrayed in wig and robes, the twelve members of the jury already seated, and sitting in the dock, his back to the public, the centre of all the attention: Jonathon Starsmore. He was dressed in a non-descript suit, and with the slightly overgrown shaggy brown hair and the defeated slump of his shoulders, it hardly seemed as though this boy was the cause of all the panic and public outrage which had gripped the country.

"Is that him?" Teresa whispered. "He hardly seems dangerous…."

Starsmore's barrister Joseph Butler rose and approached the jury to open the defence's case. Rahne let the words, heavy with legal jargon and light on actual meaning sweep past, focusing instead on the faces and the scents of the people around her. Curiosity and fear, for the most part, but she could detect an unmistakeable shaft of hatred amongst it, which chilled her.

"He may not seem dangerous, but then neither do we," Betsy pointed out. "Anyway, appearances aren't all they're cracked up to be. I want a closer look."

"You're going to read his mind?" Teresa was slightly incredulous. "Isn't that interference with the trial?"

"Why not? I want to know what's going on in our boy's head…." And with that, Betsy raised a hand to her head and narrowed her eyes, focussing on the figure in the dock. A moment later she let out a gasp, and slammed back into her seat, eyes widening in something between shock and disbelief. "He's…," she began, but faltered, staring wordlessly at the boy's back.

"He's what?" Teresa whispered.

Betsy, still speechless, raised her hand slightly to point toward the figure in the dock. Almost as though he was aware of the inquisitive stares, Starsmore turned around, and looked directly toward the three girls. His brown eyes seemed to Rahne to cut directly through her, skipping all the usual intermediaries of facade and appearance, but that wasn't what had her gaping back open-mouthed.

Down to the nose, Starsmore's face was ordinary except for those piercing eyes, but below that… there was nothing. No mouth, no jaw, no neck – even the upper part of his chest was missing, replaced instead by a swirling black energy which seemed, unaccountably, to be pulsing. She tried to force back her reflexive shudder, while all the while the eyes continued to bore through, reading her.

Hello, a male voice rang in their heads, sliding between a shout and a whisper as though its owner was not completely sure of what he was doing. Who are you?

NB: There you go – for all of you (any of you?) who were wondering about Jono's powers… they are the amazing powers of having no face! No, okay, telepathy and biokinetic force blasts, which for some reason decided to rip apart his chest on the way out. Go figure.

And another non-canon character whose name deserves a bit of explanation this time. Joseph Butler comes from Josephine Butler, a 19th century activist who worked for the repeal of the Contagious Diseases Acts (very nasty pieces of legislation about prostitution and things and hugely discriminatory). She was successful too, despite huge odds. See… reading fan fiction makes you learn stuff!