It was late Friday afternoon, and P3 was a bustle of activity just an hour before they opened their doors. Chris stood by the stairs that led into the club, rolling out a poster onto the wall and pinning its edges.

"Is that who's on tonight?" Brett asked from behind him. Chris jumped, and turned to see Brett had been right behind him, peering at the poster over his shoulder.

"God… do you have to sneak up on me like that?" Chris retaliated.

Brett smiled. "Sorry."

Chris sighed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, that's the band I booked."

"Picasso View," Brett read aloud. "Sounds… interesting."

"Well, I'm sure you're a little to old to notice, but most good bands have interesting names nowadays," Chris said sarcastically.

"Hey," Brett said, holding his hands up, "settle down, tiger. I'm not trying to yank your chain or anything. It's your first gig booking. I'm sure you'll work it all out in time."

Chris picked up the other rolled up posters and held them out to him. "Then why don't you give me a hand and put the rest of these up, and I'll go show the band where they can set up."

Brett snatched the posters from Chris' hand and headed for the bar. Chris made his way across the room to the stage where a slightly chubby man with dark hair had appeared, carrying two large black cases in his hands. Band name and tourist location stickers were plastered over the outside surfaces. He stopped before Chris, breathing heavily.

"Where can I put these?" he asked.

"The stage is just up there," Chris replied, pointing to the elevated surface against the back wall.

"Thanks."

Chris watched as he climbed onto the stage and laid the cases down, opening first one and then the other. Chris soon realised he was the band's drummer as he pulled the toms from their cases and positioned them carefully on the stage side by side. A skinny young man with a guitar case passed by Chris and made his way over to the stage to join his band mate, not even taking a second look as he walked by.

"You must be Chris," A woman in dark clothing said as she stopped beside him. Chris looked at her questioningly. "You've got to be the youngest kid here, and it's too early for fans."

"So you would be… Candy?" he asked.

"Yep, that's me." She held out her hand and shook his. "Nice to finally meet you."

"So, is this the whole band?" Chris asked, looking dubiously at the two men on the stage.

"No, the bass player, Stan, he's outside cramming his last cigarette. And Melaina, she won't be here til she's absolutely needed. You know how singers are."

Chris nodded in agreement, though he wasn't sure what she was talking about. He just felt it was safer to agree with her. She was fairly scary looking after all.

"Chris, who's your little friend?" Piper asked as she joined them.

"Oh, mom, this is Candy. Candy, this is Piper Halliwell. She's the owner and manager of P3."

"Nice to meet you," Candy said, giving a nod of her head.

Piper looked Candy up and down. The woman was dressed head to toe in Goth gear, her hair twisted into some kind of alternative ponytail, and she had numerous piercings, as well as dark makeup painted across her face. She was definitely not what Piper was expecting. She looked at Chris.

"Not a stripper, then?" she said.

"Excuse me?" Candy returned, offended. Chris blushed and hung his head. Piper turned back to Candy.

"I'm sorry," Piper apologised. "Everything's fine. I was just teasing him. Please, enjoy yourself. The bar is right over there."

Chris waited for Candy to leave before he again lifted his head. "Geez, mom, do you have to embarrass me like that? I was trying to be all professional about it."

"Aw, sweetie, I promise I won't do it again," she said. He gave her a little smile. "Besides, where's the fun in this if I can't torment you a little? Now go, the band needs you to help set up, otherwise they'll never get their sound check over and done with."

P3 again reached capacity crowd that night. It had never lost its popularity over the years. Chris edged himself through the crowd gathered around the stairs and over to the bar where Piper and Paige sat, both with glasses in hand.

"Hey," he said, taking a seat next to them.

"Hey, little nephew," Paige responded happily. "You never told me you were a star booking agent."

"You did a good job, Chris," Piper followed. Chris smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah, I mean you just have to look around to see how packed it is," Paige agreed. "I hope the band's good. What are they called again?"

"Picasso View," Chris answered.

"Picasso View," Paige repeated, mulling it over. She smiled and nodded sharply. "I like it; sounds very original."

The lights around the club dimmed a little, and the crowd began to fall silent, as the first soft drum beats sounded over the noise. A bass guitar began plucking low notes as the cymbals chimed in along with the steady thud of the bass drum. An electric guitar began to slide over a few notes, soaring from a softer volume into a larger, more consistent buzzing noise. Gentle, seductive vocals began to emanate from the microphone and spread in rippling waves across the room. The vocals stopped, and the stage lit up as the drummer began a steady drumbeat. A spotlight cast itself over the lead singer and she looked up, tossing her ash blonde hair over her shoulder. Her green eyes surveyed the room, and finally locked with Chris' as she began to sing again.

"In these nightmares, these dreams of when you're gone, I will lose myself again," she sang. "There is something I want from you today, inside these feelings that won't go away. And I love you more than I should. I'm chained and bound inside this world, and it's broken, it's no good. Why don't you shatter your fears and come over here?"

Chris could hear cheering and whistling coming from behind him, but his focus was entirely on Melaina. Her voice seemed to be carrying him away to another place, and he felt as if every word she was singing was meant for him. He broke her gaze, looking away and ordering a drink for himself. When he looked back, she was looking in another direction, still singing with that magical voice, and he noticed for the first time that around her neck hung an amulet. It was round and green in colour, quite similar to those which he had seen on the Valkyries.

"Chris?" Paige yelled behind him.

"Huh, what?" he responded, turning on his chair.

"They're really good!" Paige shouted again, trying to amplify her voice over the loud music. Chris smiled and nodded. He reached back and tapped his mother on the arm.

"Does that look like a Valkyrie necklace?" he called.

"What?" Piper asked, leaning in closer to him.

"On the singer. Is that a Valkyrie necklace?" Chris repeated. She glanced up then looked back at him and shrugged.

"I don't think so. That was a long time ago. You'd have to check the book."

Chris sighed dejectedly and pulled back, turning his attention to the band as they began their second song. An hour later Chris had the opportunity to approach the stage, the crowd dispersing as the band began to pack up their instruments.

"Are they selling their CDs?" Paige asked Chris as he slid off his chair.

"I don't know," he replied. "You'll have to check with Candy."

"She's the non-stripper Goth lady down the front there," Piper explained.

"Mom!" Chris cried. Piper smiled.

"I love their music. It's really abstract," Paige continued to babble as she followed Chris down to the stage. The guitarist breezed by them on his way to the bar, again walking as if he had blinders on. Stan, it appeared, had disappeared outside again. Paige made a sharp turn towards Candy, whilst Chris climbed up onto the stage to greet the only band member who was left.

"Anthony, hey, that was a great set," Chris said.

"Thanks man," Anthony said, offering a sweaty palm for Chris to shake. Chris subconsciously wiped his hands on his jeans as he drew back, relaxing into a more casual pose.

"Any chance I could get to speak with Melaina?" he asked.

"Oh, another fan, huh?" Anthony said, his lips spreading into a knowing smile. Chris found it rather creepy. "Just give her a few minutes and she'll be back."

Minutes later, Melaina ascended the steps at the side of the stage, her figure masked in darkness as she leant to sign various items from the devoted fans that surrounded her.

"Melaina, you got another one," Anthony called from the floor, tossing his head to indicate Chris standing beside him.

Melaina glanced up, her green eyes flickering like a cat's in a darkened alley. She moved towards Chris in a smooth fashion, as if she was not walking but merely floating across the stage. She stopped before him, looking him in the eye. Chris' attention diverted to the stone around her neck. Even up close it seemed to be a Valkyrie necklace. His hand drifted upwards, ready to clasp it in his hand and determine whether the stone was what he believed it to be. Melaina easily manoeuvred her palm into his and brought his hand down in greeting. Surprised, Chris' gaze jumped to hers, only to find that her irises had disappeared, and her eyes had taken on a milky white colour. Despite this, he felt as if she was looking through him, seeing beyond his eyes and delving deep down into his memories, into his soul. He pulled his hand away rapidly, as if he'd just received a shock from an electric current. When he looked back at her, she had returned to what he had seen before.

"I know who you are," she said simply.

Chris panicked and, feeling overly exposed standing on the stage with her, grabbed her wrist and dived through the crowd, clearing a pathway to the back office. He closed the door behind them.

"Alright, who sent you here? Valkyries don't just leave Valhalla to perform in dimly lit clubs."

"You think I'm Valkyrie?" Melaina returned.

"Well, yeah, of course you are."

"Under the present circumstances, I've seen nothing to suggest that."

"You're wearing the stone."

"This?" Melaina said, lifting the green stone in her hand and glancing down at it. "This is not a stone. It's a key."

"A key," Chris said disbelievingly.

"Yes. This stone contains the key, one which I am bound to watch over."

"Right. And what exactly does this key open?"

"The gate to the underworld."

"You're mad!" Chris exclaimed. "There's no 'gate' to the underworld."

"Choose what you wish to believe, Chris. I chose to seek you out for a purpose."

"Wait, how do you know who I am?"

"You are the timechild."

"The timechild? What do you mean the timechild?"

"You are the child that was blessed with the ability to travel back through time to right a great evil. It was only when this evil was righted that you were able to break the loop and return home safely. Your presence in the past affected the future detrimentally. It was because of you that the Elders created me, to oversee the barrier that was formed between here and the underworld."

"Hang on," Chris protested. "I wasn't the only one who travelled back in time."

"No, but you either travelled with them or were in their presence when the portal was created. It is you that has the gift of time."

"If you're telling me the truth, if the Elders really did create you, why didn't you just go to them for help?"

"There are those who I cannot trust. I'm sure that you understand. The threat of the underworld reopening is upon us, and I fear I can do no more."

"So what do you want me to do? Go back in time and fix it for you?"

"Would that be such an unwise move?" she questioned.

"No. Forget that. I am not jumping into any more time portals. I promised my parents that I wouldn't."

Melaina's gaze dropped, her expression downcast. "I am sorry to hear that, Chris. I hope you are prepared to face what is to come."

Chris watched as she passed by him and opened up the door.

"I'm not afraid of the underworld," he called defiantly after her. "I've been through it before."

Melaina turned back, nodding in agreement. Chris understood that she knew. She had seen it all, and she knew exactly what he had been through. The door closed behind her, and when Chris finally made a move to follow, he found that he couldn't see her anymore. She had gone.

After the last stragglers of the night had stumbled their way out of the club, Chris took the keys into his hand and left the club himself, locking the doors to P3 securely behind him. It was still dark outside, and the streetlights along the kerb reflected their ghoulish white patches of light across the street. Chris shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and headed towards his car in silence. The only noise he could hear was a soft muttering of many voices that sounded as if it were coming from the back of his mind.

"The end is coming," a voice suddenly sounded very loudly to his right. Chris jumped, skirting away from the voice, and looked to see that it was coming from what appeared to be a blind man standing against the wall of the club. He continued along his way, throwing cautious glances over his shoulder at the unmoving figure. The blind man again returned to his low volume muttering as Chris fumbled with the car keys, trying to get into the lone vehicle in the parking lot as quickly as he could.

He arrived home to find the light in the living room was still on. He took his jacket off, left the keys on the side-table, and moved towards the lighted room. Leo looked up from the couch as Chris stopped in the doorway.

"Hello, son," he said.

"Dad? What are you still doing up?" Chris asked.

"Ah, I couldn't sleep," Leo replied, and then looked back down at the map on the table. Chris glanced down to see that he was scrying for something.

"Who are you looking for?" Chris asked.

"There was a disturbance in the area not long ago. The Elders were concerned."

"You're still speaking with them?"

"Yes. For the moment."

Chris was undecided about whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. He took a seat next to his father and watched Leo's hand spin the thread.

"You know the Elders pretty well, right?" he began. "Is there any way that they could 'make' a being?"

Leo stopped suddenly, snapping the crystal into his hand, and stared straight at Chris. "What do you mean?"

"You know, a person. Someone that watches over something… or someone"

Leo smiled. "They're called Whitelighters, Chris."

"No. I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about mythological beings."

"Okay, Chris. What aren't you telling me?"

Chris looked away, drawing his lips in as he thought back over his conversation with Melaina. "Is there a gate to the underworld?"

"A gate?" Leo questioned. From Chris' expression, he knew he was serious. "Not in the physical sense of the word, but there was a barrier put in place by the Elders as a temporary measure."

"Because of me?"

"What? Chris, no."

"Because I meddled in the past."

Leo sighed. "I thought that was where you were. But these decisions were not made because you went back to the past, Chris. They were based on other factors as well."

Chris realised what Leo was hinting at and a feeling of annoyance began to rise in him. "So they only just decided that maybe they should do something to prevent Wyatt turning evil? Like blocking out the problem?"

"That's one way to look at it."

"Then that's the reason. That's why she came to me."

"Who?"

"Melaina."

"The guardian."

"So you've met her?"

"Once or twice."

"Why do I get the feeling that everybody knows about her except for me?"

"It's not like that, Chris. She's not a big secret, but it is unsafe for her to come up here. What was she doing here anyway?"

"Performing in a band," Chris answered. Leo gave him a puzzled look. "At the club. A band I booked."

"And you didn't know about her?"

"Well, no. That's the weird part. I only spoke with their manager to arrange the whole thing. I didn't even see her until tonight."

"And, what, she just asked for your help out of the blue?"

"Pretty much. She seemed to know everything about me."

"What did you say to her?"

"I told her I couldn't help. I didn't want to mess things up again. "

Leo looked back down at the map on the table. "Maybe she has something to do with the disturbance that the Elders were so concerned about. Look, why don't you head off to bed, and I'll keep scrying, see if I can turn up anything."

Chris nodded solemnly and then headed up the stairs towards his room. As determined as he was to fall asleep once his head hit the pillow, he couldn't help but try to piece together the events of the night. Things that had once seemed impossible to him were now made possible, simply because of the slight changes that had been made in the past. Eventually his mind settled enough to allow him to drift into a dreamless sleep. When he awoke, the time had almost ticked into the afternoon, and he rushed to get himself ready so that he could open up the club.

He stopped his car outside P3 and surveyed the grounds as he cut the engine. It appeared to be just as settled and quiet as when he'd left it earlier that morning, only there was no blind man outside bellowing words of ill favour. Feeling he could put the events of the night before behind him, Chris locked up his car and strolled over to the entrance, pushing the key into the slot on the front door. A soft breeze picked up behind him, blowing his hair as he clicked the latch open.

He descended the stairs into the darkness, flipping the light switch as he hit the bottom. The room buzzed into life and again it was as clean and soulless as when he'd left it. He moved towards the back room, smiling to himself at his unwarranted paranoia. With every step he jingled the club keys in his palm. He stopped outside the doorway. It was slightly ajar and he didn't remember leaving it open. Chris began to wonder if someone had come in early to put away new stock, as the door felt quite heavy under his hands when he pushed it. Once inside the back room, Chris tossed the keys onto the desk, and then jumped with a start as a loud slamming noise followed from behind him. Chris turned to find the door closed and a body propped up against the back of it. He crouched down near the body and moved the ash blonde strands of hair from the woman's face. It was Melaina, but without the vivid engaging aura about her she appeared pale and almost withered looking. She was clearly dead and, what's more, the stone that hung around her neck was missing. Chris backed away, his sneakers treading on fragmented green pieces strewn across the floor nearby. Broken shards were the only remains of the stone that was the key – the key to the underworld.

"This is not good," Chris stated, realising that he was the only person who had been inside the building in the past twelve hours.

He orbed back to the manor. Standing in the hallway he could see through the open front door that his mother was loading up her old jeep – obviously planning to head out somewhere.

"Mom!" he called, racing out to the front yard. "Mom, wait!"

Piper closed the boot turning to look at her son. "Chris, what's wrong?" She glanced around. "Where's your car?"

"At the club. I need you to help me. I can't go to jail again."

"Jail? Chris, what on earth are you talking about?"

"There's a dead woman at the club."

"What? Who?"

"Melaina." Piper looked at him blankly. "The singer from the band last night. I was the last person to leave. I'm going to be the first person they come looking for."

"No you're not, Chris. Just take me back to where you found her and we'll work this out."

They headed back into the house, out of view, before orbing over to P3. The door was sill closed when they materialised. Piper looked around the empty back room.

"Well, where is she? Under the desk?"

Chris stared in disbelief, indicating the floor behind the door. "She was right here. Just…" He stopped, bending down to pick up a green fragment off the floor and holding it up to Piper. "This is from the stone that she wore."

Piper blinked and shook her head in confusion. "What, the Valkyrie stone?"

"No, not… it wasn't a Valkyrie stone, it was a key. To the underworld."

Piper laughed. "Okay, Chris, you've had your fun. But I've got somewhere else to be today."

"I'm serious!" he protested. She looked at him doubtfully. "Ask dad!"

"What's Leo got to do with all this?"

A noise sounded outside and they both looked towards the doorway. Piper opened the door and walked into the main area of the club, Chris following closely behind her.

"Brett, what are you doing here?" Piper asked.

Brett looked up from behind the bar, surprised, and indicated back towards the entrance. "The door was open. I thought I'd come check it out, make sure the place wasn't being robbed. You know how it is sometimes, you get paranoid trying to remember if you locked the door or not."

Forgetting that Chris had told her that he was the last to leave, Piper accepted Brett's story, but Chris himself gave the bartender a suspicious look. Piper looked around the room, trying to see if she could spot Picasso View's singer anywhere.

"You haven't seen a young blonde girl floating around, have you?" she asked.

"No, why?" Brett answered.

"Oh, well Chris…" Piper glanced back to Chris and realised she probably shouldn't have started the sentence. "Never mind."

"Don't tell me he's hooked up with the singer already," Brett sighed, rolling his eyes in disgust.

"Hey, no!" Chris cried angrily, gesturing towards Brett, his gaze flitting between the bartender and his mother.

"We've got everything under control, Brett. Chris can open up for tonight. Why don't you just take some time away from the place and we'll see you tonight, okay?" Piper said. Brett frowned. She waved him on as he reluctantly headed towards the stairs. "Go, have fun. There's a whole world out there to explore."

Brett glanced back towards them, and then made his way up the stairs and out of the building. Piper turned back towards Chris.

"Okay, I can stay long enough to help you look around a little, but after that you'll have to take me back to my car. We really can't do anything unless there's a body."

True to her word, Piper stayed with Chris for the next hour as they pulled the entire club apart piece by piece, yet they still couldn't turn up a body. Chris took his mother back to her car, and then closed the club momentarily while he went to visit someone he thought could help him.

Ratana was an elderly woman of slightly dark appearance who Chris had sought advice from in his previous future while he was tracking Wyatt. Her residence was well hidden, and she worked in a back room of a building that was lit by thousands of tea light candles, with bright orange veils of silk strung about the room. Wind chimes, flutes, and other various objects dangled down from the ceiling of the small room, and when Chris entered through the doorway he had to duck low to keep from hitting his head on anything. Ratana sat in peaceful meditation across from him, behind a wooden table that was covered with a soft velvet cloth. Her hands flowed over the table, and her eyes sprung open to stare at Chris, giving him the same eerie feeling he had felt when he'd first come in contact with Melaina.

"My child, you look oddly familiar, though I know we have not met," she said.

Chris sat across from her, his eyes glancing forlornly down at the table before him and then back up to her face.

"Perhaps in another life," Chris said.

She eyed him closely as she drew her words out in slow thought. "Yes, perhaps. What can I do for you?"

"I need some advice. A reading."

"The cards know your future," Ratana said, her hand moving to the side and hovering over a deck of tarot cards. She did not look away from Chris' face. With her free hand, she took hold of Chris' and placed the deck of cards into his palm. "Fate is in your hands."

Chris shuffled the cards and handed them back to Ratana. She laid them out on the table, five cards in the shape of a cross, and then a sixth off to the right hand side. She placed the rest of the desk underneath the sixth card, and her nimble fingers gently touched the back of the first card which lay in the centre of the cross.

"This card represents what you have come here for," she said, and flipped the card over. A multitude of swords covered the card; ten in number. Ratana reeled back as if the swords had grazed her fingers. Chris, in response, leant forward in earnest. "This is the worst card of the deck."

"What does it mean?" he persisted.

"This card spells ruin," Ratana answered. She looked up to meet his eyes. "A troubled time is about to begin. It will last for a long period of time. You must not give in to negative thinking."

"How does it start?" Chris enquired. Ratana turned over the next card, to the left of the first. On it was a figure of a man holding a sword.

"There is a man who is not what he appears to be. He is a spy, a rival. He is spiteful and will lie for his own ends," Ratana explained. She turned over the next card which lay above the first. Pictured on it were three swords piercing a heart. She looked directly at Chris. "And you, you are suffering from heartache. You are confused and worried. There has been a grand upheaval which is causing you a great deal of stress. You have a long way to go in the healing process."

Chris was beginning to feel as if the reading was drifting away from the matter at hand. He needed to direct her attention back to his problem. "If the barrier breaks down… then what's going to happen?"

Ratana turned over the card at the bottom of the cross. Again there was a row of swords, this time only eight in number. "I foresee a run of bad luck. You will feel trapped and powerless. Patience is needed on your part, and you will need to recognize that help is available." She turned over the fifth card, the last of the cross, which was the card of The Moon. "The oracle warns you to take care, for all is not as it seems. You must use your intuition to deal with this situation. The path you are on is a difficult one, but you must continue along it even if your thoughts are plagued by doubts."

Chris stared down at the cards that were laid out before him. The cross, normally a holy symbol, was giving him nothing but bad news. Ratana had answered his question, the underworld was about to reopen, and by his simple refusal of helping Melaina he had become powerless to stop it. All he knew now was that he was going to have to fight whatever menacing power appeared first. And the man, the one who started this, the one who wasn't what he appeared to be. His rival. He could think of no-one other than Wyatt. But was it possible that after everything he had done in the past, that Wyatt was still able to turn evil in the future? Chris thought it might be a wise idea to pay his older brother a visit. He scooted the chair back and headed for the door.

"There is one more thing," Ratana called to him. He stopped and looked back. She flipped over the sixth card – The High Priestess. "The oracle recommends you seek out this woman. She has mystic power and psychic ability. She is the only one who can help you."