Part Five: All This Time

Chapter Two

Early on the morning of his birthday, Chris woke up with an unexplainable intuition that called him to the attic. It was not even a feeling that he had forgotten something up there; he knew he hadn't. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what it meant.

Any chance of sleeping in was gone — now he was irreversibly wide awake. Might as well give in. Getting out of bed, not pausing to change out of his nightclothes, he headed for the attic as the smell of potion-making filled the stairway from the first floor.

There was somebody already there when he walked in: Aunt Phoebe, who at first didn't notice him. She sat on the sofa with an old box at her side and an article of clothing in her lap, her eyes closed, her face a mix of concentration and attempted calm. It didn't seem to be working for her; she opened her eyes, and started almost guiltily upon seeing her nephew.

"Hey, big guy, happy birthday! Uh, what are you doing up so early?"

Chris watched, a little perplexed, as she shoved the shirt — for that was what she was holding — into the box.

"What are you doing here so early?" he asked.

"Oh, you know, stuff … Charmed Ones stuff. Don't worry about it. Did you need something up here?"

"I guess not. I just … It's stupid."

"Sweetie, what is it?"

He shrugged with embarrassment. "I just had a feeling like I should come up here, but …" He gestured to the placid room. "Sorry."

He turned to go, but Phoebe stopped him. "Wait! Actually, maybe you can help me. It's worth a try…"

"Help you with what?"

She patted the couch next to her, and as he settled there, she said, "I'm trying to get a premonition."

"I don't have that power."

"I know. But this is a special case, and I could use an extra boost, you know?" She retrieved the light blue shirt she had been holding; Chris leaned over and saw the box contained a few other pieces of clothing and a couple objects he couldn't identify before Phoebe closed the lid — quickly, but suspiciously trying to make it look casual, like she wasn't hiding its contents. She continued: "This stuff was left behind by, uh, an innocent we helped, a long time ago. What we're working on now may be connected to what happened then, so I'm trying to see that connection."

Phoebe was a terrible liar, Chris reflected, but what in all that she was lying about, he couldn't tell. "Okay," he merely said. "But why would I be able to help?"

"Well … what happened before, that was just around the time you were born, and you might have a strong connection to it because of that. Plus, something called you up here, right?"

No matter what the story was, she was right about that. "What do I do?" he asked.

Across the top of the box, she held out to him the shirt; decorated with a big, white "2," it was musty from storage, but not well-worn.

"Let's just hold this at the same time," she said, "and see what we get."

The second he touched the shirt, if felt as if the breath were knocked out of him. Pictures, the colors drained out of them, flashed before his eyes: an innocuous alleyway in a shopping center; Vincenta, paralyzed as a beam of light drew out her power; the intent frown of the perpetrator. Alaric …

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. Phoebe gasped, still clutching the shirt. "Was that …?"

"I saw that in real life — Vincenta getting her power stolen. But that was last winter. I thought we were supposed to see the future."

"There must be a connection. But what is it?"

"It has something to do with Alaric?"

"Well, that's something to go on. We just need more time …"

Phoebe and Chris jumped, startled by a crash downstairs. Standing up from the couch, they gaped as a shimmering golden light descended over the attic windows. Phoebe dropped the shirt on the box and together they bolted for the door and ran down to the second floor.

Piper was there, already putting a hand out to stop Wyatt from rushing downstairs as she yelled, "Paige!"

The youngest sister orbed in front of them, holding three vials, which she handed to Piper and Phoebe. "Here you go, potions. It's the best we've got. Hope they work."

"What the hell is all that noise?" Phoebe asked.

"It's the Fortalice, but I have no idea what the racket is."

Piper said, "All right. Paige, get to the attic and orb that stone and sword out of here. Anywhere — the school, up to the Elders if you have to — just far away, then come back and help us." As Paige orbed upstairs, Piper turned to her sons. "You two — out. Get to Magic School, now."

She and Phoebe made their way down the stairs, with Piper turning back one more time to repeat, "Now," before she was out of sight.

The boys didn't leave.

"Where's Dad?" Chris asked his brother.

"Out to get the paper, I think."

"Are you going to the school?"

There was another loud crash, and Wyatt answered, "No way."

Chris nodded, and as Wyatt disappeared in orb lights, he followed, heading for the sunroom, right into the fray.

Chris landed next to Paige, to his surprise — she was supposed to be gone with the sword. Instead, she was on the floor in the sunroom, next to the boulder holding it. Before she could react, Chris felt as if his feet were knocked out from under him. He landed heavily on the floor, and felt a powerful grip dragging him toward the glass doors. He hit them with a painful thud, knocking aside his own backpack, which he had dumped there the night before. Wincing, he sat up to see his mother step out from behind a set of shelves and raise her hands to strike.

At the same moment, a realization hit Chris with a force like the premonition he had just shared. He hollered, "Mom, freeze the room! Freeze the whole room!"

She did so, and there was sudden silence. The Fortalice was still; the destruction whirling about the room had died.

Chris caught Phoebe's eye and saw puzzlement changing to a look of dawning understanding. "The premonition …" she said.

"What premonition?" Piper exclaimed. "What's going on?"

Chris was scrambling over to his backpack. He pulled from it the spell he had copied two days ago, when he hoped it could be tweaked to restore Vincenta's power. For this, though, he only needed the original, unaltered version, which he read:

Hidden from eyes, unseen to sight
It only seems that we are blind
Bring what's invisible to light
Lift these shadows, the truth to find

Piper yelped and jumped back from the sudden appearance of two athames inches away from her abdomen. A scowling demon held the weapons — a demon that just before had been unseen. Another one crouched near the sword and stone. The one bearing down on her with deadly blades, Piper blew up.

Standing, Chris pointed to a far corner of the room. "Mom, look…"

The two demons were not the only invisible figures revealed by the spell. There, standing apart in observation, also frozen by Piper's hands, was a tall, dark-haired man.

"Who is that?" Piper asked.

"It's Alaric," Chris replied. "The one who stole Vincenta's power …"

"… and gave it to demons," Phoebe finished.

"Hold on." Paige was moving toward Alaric. "I know this guy. Where have I seen …" Her eyes widened. "Oh my god, he's a Whitelighter!"

"How do you know?" Wyatt asked.

"Because I've met him. You know, Up There." She raised her eyes to the ceiling. "It was, maybe, six or seven years ago, with other Whitelighters. I'm almost positive it was him. I remember we talked for a while — and come to think of it, he was very interested in our family."

"He did know Dad and Prue in that past life I went to," Chris said.

"Yeah, funny thing, he never mentioned that."

"Well, we have to figure out what's going on," Piper said, "but I'm not going to risk unfreezing either Alaric or the Fortalice. This one" — she pointed to the crouching demon — "and the one I blew up, I'm guessing they're the flunkies in this. Presumably his."

She dispatched the remaining "flunkie" with a toss of her hands, leaving only Alaric and the Fortalice now. "Wyatt, can you go upstairs and —"

"Get crystals — yeah, sure."

Wyatt returned in a minute, and the suspects were soon confined.

"One at a time," Piper said. "Who do we talk to first?"

"Him," Chris said.

With a smile for her younger son, Piper unfroze Alaric. His eyes took in the room, the crystals at his feet — his situation as it stood.

"Whatever it is you're doing," Piper said, "I'm guessing you haven't succeeded?"

"Actually …" He spoke slowly, as if choosing his words carefully, his restrained voice remarkably as Chris remembered it from that past life visit. "It looks like I haven't failed so far."

Wyatt stepped forward. "Haven't failed at what? What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"Assuring that the sword gets into your hands, and not into the hands of the Fortalice. I am only here to protect Excalibur and its heir."

"With your demons helping out?" Wyatt demanded, outraged. "One of them almost killed my mother."

"And I'm sorry it almost came to that. I truly am. I had to make a judgment about using them, and I determined in the face of this threat, the sword was most important. It was for the greater good…"

Piper scoffed, "Oh, mister, you picked the wrong woman if you want to play that card."

"Besides," Phoebe said, "you're lying."

They turned to her as she came up to the circle of crystals and looked Alaric in the eye. "I can feel what you want, and it has nothing to do with the 'greater good.' You want revenge. Against whom? This family? The Fortalice?" He pressed his lips together, apparently struggling to keep his composure as she continued, "You feel like you've been cheated, slighted, ignored — and you want everyone pay, is that it? Why? And also — grow up!"

"Why do my motives matter if the end we want is the same?"

"Because," Piper said, "I don't know if we really do want the same end, and I'm starting to think that if you want something to happen, maybe we don't."

"Piper!" Paige called, drawing their attention to the Fortalice, who was beginning to break through the freeze, her movements almost imperceptible, pushing against an enormous force.

"The crystals won't hold her!" Alaric warned. "The only way to stop her is with Excalibur. If you don't use it, she will take it, since Paige has so helpfully dropped it in her lap. And then forget about what I could do — she will kill everyone in this room."

"Shut up!" Piper snapped as she tried to freeze the Fortalice again. This time it barely held for five seconds before the movements started again.

This imminent threat seemed not to concern his brother, Chris saw. His brow furrowed in thought, Wyatt was scrutinizing at Alaric, until the Whitelighter met his eyes.

Alaric said in a low, urgent voice, "You have to do it, Wyatt."

First Wyatt narrowed his eyes. But then his troubled expression cleared and a small, surprised smile played across his features, the satisfaction of someone who has hit upon the solution to a longstanding dilemma. "I understand," he said. "I get it now. Thanks."

The dismay that was growing on Alaric's face showed he comprehended Wyatt's words far better than Chris did.

"Mom," Wyatt said, drawing the sisters' attention away from the barely contained Fortalice, "I know you think it's too soon, but the sword has to be claimed. Trust me." He cut off the beginning of her argument with a simple word: "Please."

With a glance back to the Fortalice, Piper sighed and silently gave assent. But Wyatt didn't move toward the stone.

"Chris," he said. "Try it."

"What? Why?"

"Because it's not mine."

Chris looked over at his mother; he wondered if he looked as disbelieving as she did. No, wait, she just looked shocked. "It was supposed to be …" She raised her hand to her mouth, so that her words were muffled, but he thought he heard, "… the son of a Charmed One …"

"Uh, Chris?" Wyatt jerked his head toward the Fortalice.

"Okay," he muttered, and walked a few steps over to the sword and stone. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath, and pulled at the hilt.

It came out effortlessly, and a shiver went through him like an electrical charge. He stared, astonished, at the sword in his hands, until he jumped — they all jumped — at the sound of a strange woman's voice:

"Ah, I see this time things have all worked out as they should. Excellent."

The Fortalice was now completely free of the freeze. Piper did not try to restrain her again, but said, "Excuse me?"

"In the other time this happened, Excalibur got into the hands of the wrong person, despite my best efforts. And I died. That was not pleasant."

"You were trying to get Excalibur into the right hands?"

"Yes," she said as if it were the natural assumption. "Word reached me that the sword was in danger. I'm always so very busy, I couldn't get here until now, but when I arrived this morning I was attacked by this one" — she gestured toward Alaric and then waved a hand as if to indicate the missing demons — "and his minions. I determined they wished to steal the sword, so I sealed the house until they could be taken care of. I see you have taken care of the minions, in any case."

Paige threw a glance to the glass doors, still covered in shimmering gold. "You were fighting them?"

"Of course. I was a bit perplexed when you seemed to be trying to fight me, when I was here to help…"

"We couldn't see the demons," Chris said. "They were invisible."

"Were they? Oh, I forget how limited your perceptions are in this dimension."

"Dimension?" Piper shook her head at the Fortalice's complacency, and decided not to follow up on that matter. "So, you're some kind of protector for Excalibur?"

"Hardly. But it is the only thing that can kill me, and so I have an interest in assuring it ends up in the right hands, so that it will be used for good, not evil — seeing as how it will corrupt anyone else."

"So what do you do?" Wyatt asked.

She smiled indulgently. "My goodness, child, you wouldn't understand. Nevertheless, even though I've only been here a few hours, I'm sure the force of good is falling apart without me. I must go. I leave you to deal with that one" — again she indicated Alaric, with a slight roll of her eyes — "however you see fit down here."

Then she gave Chris a cordial, if condescending, nod. "The best of luck to you. And to your brother as well. I don't much pay attention to the goings-on in this dimension, but as I understand it, you will both have quite a role to play."

With that, the gold encasing the Manor seemed to gather to her, coalesce, and she vanished in a flare of the light.

Piper had just begun to turn her interrogatory glare back to Alaric, when they heard the front door burst open.

"Is everyone okay?" Leo called.

"Yeah, honey, we're in here."

"I couldn't get inside, there was something …" Leo's voice died as he surveyed the room, taking in first Alaric, held behind crystals, and then Chris.

Chris was still holding Excalibur, wondering that it felt astonishingly familiar, natural. But now, as his father's eyes lighted on him, he began to feel awkward, too aware of it.

"You've missed a lot," Wyatt said.

Leo looked confused, but a grin was rising to the surface. "It looks like I have …"

Author's Note: Now I am free to offer public congratulations to Victorious Light, who figured out my plans for Excalibur way back in Chapter 14. A dozen cookies for you! And good to hear from cherry7up56 and new reader Ladybug; thanks so much for reviewing. Just one chapter left …