Chapter 3

Joshua stalked into his workroom, closely followed by his wife and daughter. His eyes were dark with fear and his fists were clenched at his side. He really just needed the time to sit down and think, but time was, unfortunately, a luxury he could ill afford. It had been ten minutes since Lizzie had first heard the summons of the ring and the music had only been getting shriller since. That wasn't good; it meant that Rose was simply in more danger. His one consolation was that the sapphire hadn't stopped blinking yet and his niece was still breathing. He shut his eyes and tried to decide what to do.

"Diana," Lizzie said softly. "Get the mirror." Diana knew exactly what her mother was referring to and didn't need to be told twice. She hurried across the room to her father's enormous desk and yanked open the middle drawer. Underneath numerous magical artifacts, some of which she still didn't know the purpose of, she found a small mirror set in a platinum frame. There were roses twined about the handle and she couldn't help but wonder, as she always did, the history behind this particular mirror, for it was treated very carefully and well loved by both her parents.

Diana held the glass cautiously and carried it back to her mother, who was sitting on an ottoman next to the couch. Joshua was seated on the couch with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands cupping the ring. His eyes were shut and he was trembling like a leaf in a storm.

"Is he alright?" Diana choked out, panicking at seeing her father, who was ordinarily so composed, looking quite the opposite.

"It's just the magic," Lizzie said soothingly, patting her daughter's hand. "Sit down next to him in case he needs magical aid."

"But what about you-"

"Trust me," she answered. "And give me the mirror." Wordlessly, Diana handed it over. Lizzie nodded her thanks, then set the mirror down on her lap. "Show me my eldest niece, please," she said distinctly. Lizzie's reflection in the glass swirled around, creating a strange fog of colors before it coalesced into a completely different image. Diana gasped. The picture she saw displayed before her was one of a ship being thrown about on dangerously rough seas. Most of the sails had been lowered, but the few that could not be gotten down in time were in tatters. One of the masts had been broken and numerous peoples' things were strewn about the deck, soaking wet and ruined. Most of the passengers and crew were below-deck, but there were a few unlucky people who were trapped on top. Rose, for example.

"Mama, what do we do?" Diana asked, nearly screaming as she watched her cousin thrown from one side of the ship to the other. Lizzie didn't reply, her eyes were fixed on her husband, whose face was twisted in pain from the impact that his niece felt. She hated this method, but it was the only way. Lizzie reached up and squeezed Joshua's hand affectionately. He clutched at hers in return and she took a deep breath.

"Diana, take your father's other hand," she directed. Diana did as she was told, still trembling as she thought of the terrible fate her cousin was facing. She couldn't believe her mother was acting so calmly in the face of such danger. But she was glad nonetheless that Lizzie was so unshakeable.

Lizzie had none of that confidence in herself. She hated being in charge of magical rituals of significance for she knew that she was far less in control and levelheaded than her husband. But he had taken the ring and left her the job of seeing and directing his movements so she would have to rise to the occasion if she wanted to save her niece again. Swearing softly with words Diana would have a fit if she found out her mother knew, Lizzie began.

"Joshua, you need to find somewhere to stand," Lizzie said, staring at the frightening picture glimmering up from the surface of the glass. "About ten feet to your left, there is a huge crate that seems lashed down fairly well. Crawl to it." She felt his muscles spasm as his mind, melded with Rose's, forced the young girl to move. His breathing was already ragged and tired; he wouldn't last much longer on his own power.

"Mama," Diana said, forcing herself to be as steadily calm as Lizzie, "When should I step in?"

"In three minutes unless I tell you sooner," Lizzie answered automatically. "And don't hesitate to act if you need to." Those words made Diana shiver; she wasn't even sixteen yet and her mother was expecting her to remain responsible in the face of this?

"Joshua," Lizzie continued soothingly, addressing whatever manifestation of her husband was listening, "Stand up." She watched in the glass as Rose snatched at the ropes that bound the crate and used them to heave herself up into a perilous, upright position. She swayed with the waves, tears streaming down her cheeks that were echoed on Joshua's own. "Well done," Lizzie murmured. "Now brace yourself and face the wind." Joshua knew what to do on his own, but his mind was overwhelmed with fear and a desperate desire to survive, that he would never be able to remember it. It was already draining more of Lizzie's power than she wanted to waste simply to get through to him. Rose's body obeyed, turning out and clenching her hands around the rope until they bled as the storm tossed her back and forth, practically throwing her feet out from under her.

"Now, Joshua," Lizzie nearly shouted, forgetting that she wasn't on the ship with him, that she needn't shout above the roaring waves and the tilting ship to be heard. "Tell it to go away!"

She felt his hands tighten around her own so hard that she practically lost feeling in her fingers. Rose shouted words out to the wind, throwing all her uncle's power out towards the menacing force that strove to overturn their ship. Lizzie watched the ship poised on the crest of an enormously tall wave, waiting to see if Joshua would win. She wracked her mother-in-law's memory to try and judge the situation. Unfortunately, that was all too easy to do.

"God damn it!" Lizzie swore, not even bothering to try and keep her voice down or keep it appropriate. Diana nearly jumped, amazed that she still had the presence of mind to be shocked at her mother. "Diana, listen to me!" Lizzie's voice was tense with fear. "You need to be strong and feed your father as much of your power as you can."

"But-"

"Can you do it?" she repeated, staring at her daughter.

"I can do it," Diana said, moving her hands slightly so that she was actually touching the ring. And she fell into the maelstrom of terror that was her cousin's mind. It was horrifying, the waves, the storm, the insane tossing back and forth that boggled the senses and practically made her lose any cognition she had. She wondered how anyone could function in this way; all she could think of was not letting herself pitch forward into the angry waves.

Suddenly, through the terror induced haze, she heard her mother's voice. "Finish the spell!" But she couldn't finish it; she was terrified to actually do anything. "Come on, Diana, you can do it! I know you can! Say the last words of the spell." Shivering with anguish, she shouted the words her father had said moments before, but this time it was with her untouched power and not her father's drained magic. She flung the spell in the face of the screaming storm and told the mighty creature to calm down. It was the most wearying experience she had ever felt, flinging herself onto such fierceness. But she had to do it; she couldn't let go, not now.

Lizzie watched with pride as her niece beat back the storm, knowing full well that it was really her daughter who was producing the effect. The ship remained poised on the edge of the wave as the weather magic flowed out over the monster that threatened to take all the lives on the ocean. "Show me what is really happening," she whispered to the mirror. The scene didn't whirl and change, as was its wont, it merely grew clearer. Standing in the tempest was the figure of a king, a majestic figure with a wreath of clouds for a crown and windblown seaweed as his beard. His eyes were bright stars and his face was merely the magic itself, filled in. He was the menace behind the storm, the Lord over the oceans, King Tritan himself. Lizzie grit her teeth, telling her daughter to stand strong, for she knew that Diana had the power to last, even against the wrath of the ocean king.

Thunder boomed and the King spoke. Lizzie stared carefully at his lips, reading the words that would sound to all simply like the roll of drum like thunder. "Who are you that dare to flout my will?"

Lizzie shivered as she stared at that visage, for it struck a chord deep inside her.

"Leave!" Diana shouted, her voice ringing out in the workroom as well as by the sea. That wasn't a good sign; if her body was responding along with Rose's, it meant she was losing her control on her cousin.

"I know you from somewhere," murmured the king in a lower roll of thunder. Lizzie's stomach clenched at those words. "There are two other presences within you and I recognize them." Lizzie had to concentrate just not to drop the mirror. She prayed to God that her daughter not be able to hear the words, though she was quite a powerful mage and would undoubtedly remember the words somehow. "I don't like bowing to the will of humans, but the children of an old friend are an exception." The strange apparition smiled at them and Lizzie saw the first ray of sunlight peek through like the glimmer of a grin. "I shall see you two again. Now go!"

Diana screamed, for the last two words had been perfectly audible and, terrified of the voice, she pulled herself away from her cousin and back into her own body. Lizzie screamed at her to stop, but she refused to listen, crashing back into her own flesh. Joshua, who had far more control over his mind, attempted to stay and help Rose cling to her crate as the last wave crashed down onto the surface and flung the ship vertical. Lizzie knew that he didn't have the strength to fight for her and watched in horror as her niece's bloody grip loosened and she fell slowly from the deck into the teeming waves. Lizzie, not knowing what else to do, flung her hand out and grabbed the ring in her husband's hand. She felt herself become one with the girl, falling through the air and screaming as the water rushed up to meet her. Lizzie used the last of her magic to force Rose to take in as much air as she could, then hold her breath as long as was necessary. She sent out a magical cry for help and tried as best she could to keep her head above water, but there was no hope. Sobbing with pain, Lizzie pulled her hand away from Joshua's, taking the ring with it and sending the magical artifact halfway across the room.

Joshua's eyes flew open and stared into his wife's. Diana was sitting on the couch, breathing deeply and trying to relax. "Will she be alright?" Diana whispered, not having seen the agonizing last moments of the drama.

Joshua shut his eyes, biting his lip for a moment. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. He got shakily to his feet, trembling violently from his ordeal. He managed to walk halfway across the room and carefully pick up the ring before sinking to his knees from exhaustion.

"Papa!" Diana said, racing to his side. "Are you alright?" She paused for a moment. "What's wrong with Rose? What happened?"

Joshua held up the ring and watched the blue stone, waiting for it to flicker. Lizzie stayed where she was, unsure if her feet could support her.

"Why did it stop?" Diana asked in a small voice. Her parents ignored her. "Mama, Papa, what's going on? Why isn't Rose all right?"

"When you pulled away," Joshua said in a low, monotonous voice that hid the emotions deep within him, "She lost her grip on the crate and fell into the sea."

"No!" Diana yelled out involuntarily. "No!" Joshua hadn't meant for it to sound as if Diana had caused the calamity, but that was how she understood it. She buried her face in her hands. "Will she live?" she asked from between spread fingers.

"Lizzie?" Joshua said, turning to his wife.

"The mirror can't see underwater," Lizzie answered. "You know that."

"Then we just have this," he said, his voice cracking. "And it doesn't look good." Seeing the confusion overlaying his daughter's features, he didn't notice the guilt eating away at her. He explained his words. "The ring flashes every time she takes a breath." He didn't need to finish that statement, the darkness in the heart of the sapphire spoke volumes.

T.B.C.

A/N – Well, this didn't go at all as planned. I'm rather surprised that I managed to fill up four pages with about ten minutes worth of action – that's ridiculous even by my standards. Hopefully there will be a bit of a resolution in the next chapter, but you know I love cliffhangers (it keeps me excited for the next chapter and I want to know what happens next… no, I'm not kidding). So, no one gets a chapter dedication, but this chapter is in honor of Shortstef, who actually googled the name Anthony Morgan and who was vain enough to ask for a dedication; something which I have a great respect for. The name is from series written by Katherine Kurtz; one of the main characters who I have a tiny crush on is named Alaric Anthony Morgan and I think the name Alaric is silly. So that's where the little boy gets his name from. He was not named after Andrew; I don't think Joshua has forgiven his father yet. So, here goes this thank you session.

Shortstef – You got your chapter dedication, sort of, are you happy now? And of course Lizzie would collect fairy tale anthologies and give them to her children when they were old enough to read them on their own. I'm glad you liked Joshua's quote, I had actually had a long conversation with an old teacher of mine about the various pros and cons of verbal transmission as opposed to writing things down, so this flowed all too well. I seriously doubt that heroes get any better than Joshua (now look who's being vain), but I'll do my best to get her someone very good. And something tells me you may see more of daddy mode, I like it too.

Kate – Happy to have cleared up the characters, though I understand what you meant. It is a little rough being introduced to a whole new slew of them all at once. Anyway, I'll try to keep the vocab up to par and not start to sound pendantic and pretentious, an occurrence which I eschew whenever possible. Er… you know what I mean. And don't apologize, Simpsons references are always appreciated.

Soofija – Fear not, as you can see from above, you won't need to come and kick my ass (that might leave me bedridden and unable to type and then where would we be? We'll, I'd be in bed…). I'll forgive you though, since you are on vacation and I had my last day of class today (ie – my year abroad is over and I'm a little worried as to where it went, since I didn't notice it going by). And I have every plan to keep writing, so don't worry. Soon, my pretties, soon.

Farewell all!

Levana (Damian)