Disclaimer: See Chapter 1...

Chapter 13: Power of a mind

Marguerite had trouble sleeping that night. John had brought her home, had undressed her and put her to bed. He had made tea, looked after Alasdair, who had had a bad dream and washed the tears off her face. Later he lay down next to her taking her in his arms.

"Do you feel better now?" He asked. Marguerite sighed.

"A bit. But..." She stopped to make sure she wouldn't start to cry again.

"Shh. Try to get some sleep." He closed his eyes again.

"I can't. All these pictures come up again whenever I close my eyes." He looked at her, although the dim light of the moon, which filled the room, didn't give him the chance to see much.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked carefully; not sure whether this was a good idea.

"I..." She hesitated. "I'm not sure." John pulled her closer to him and kissed her forehead.

"You don't have to, but perhaps it'll make you feel better." A smile appeared on her face, but it faded away as quickly as it had come. She wrapped her arms around his body.

"Thank you for being with me. You cannot imagine what this means to me." And then she told him everything she had heard from Rhianne.

When she had finished talking, John was left speechless. "You had a sister?" "My grandfather was what?" and "Where is this Dierdre now?" were just three of thousands of questions spinning around in his head.

"John?" Marguerite whispered so she could be certain that he was okay. He looked her directly into the eyes.

"We have to stop her!" He said with determination. Marguerite on the other hand looked rather helpless.

"I agree, but how should we do that?" She asked.

"I don't know, yet, but I won't let anything happen to you." He held her closer and touched her belly carefully. She gasped.

"What is it?" Was his question.

"I don't know. I thought I felt the baby, but that must been my imagination. It usually takes another month before I can feel it." John smiled at her.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. This is a very special girl."

"Yes, she is." Marguerite replied in a thoughtful tone.

....................

"Mummy! Da'y!"

Marguerite yawned and turned around still half asleep.

"John, don't you want to attend to your son?" She reached out for the right side of the bed without opening her eyes. She heard John stir beside her.

"Alright I'm going." The wooden floor creaked and squeaked as he left the room. Marguerite pulled the covers up over her head again and tried to sleep.

"Marguerite?" An unknown voice inside of her asked. Marguerite opened her eyes to make sure that her mind didn't try to fool her. But there was no one there.

"Marguerite?" The voice asked again. And this time Marguerite instantly knew who it was. But she guessed that it was Morrigan, who knew it.

"Dierdre!" She said aloud although she was convinced that no one except for her could hear Dierdre. So one could think that she was talking to herself.

"It seems that Morrigan still remembers, who I am." The voice was very clear, but it sounded as if it was somehow carried by the wind, like a whisper.

"How could she forget? How could I forget you?" Marguerite asked in an angry tone. How could this, whatever it was, dare to come so close to her? Marguerite hadn't thought that the danger was so imminent. And that Dierdre talked to her scared her like hell.

But this time there was no answer. Marguerite looked around to convince herself that Dierdre was gone. She knew that it was stupid to look out for an invisible being, but she had got used to taking a look around during her life on the Plateau and it made her feel better.

"Maggie, I don't like to disturb you, but I cannot fight her off for much longer." Another voice inside of her said. But this time it felt different: It was more as if a part of her was talking. Marguerite knew that this was Morrigan.

"You have to meet Rhianne as soon as possible." At that moment John came back with Alasdair in his arms.

"What's going on?" His eyes wandered through the room and when he couldn't find anything abnormal he looked at Marguerite.

"I thought you were talking to somebody." She shrugged.

"I wasn't. You must have imagined it." She had a bad conscience for lying to him, but she didn't want to trouble him with the supernatural things that sounded just too weird. It was clear that John had the right to hear of all the things concerning his daughter, but Marguerite wanted to have just one single day, on which she wouldn't have to worry. But in the back of her mind she knew that she didn't want to tell John about it yet, because she didn't like him to see her so afraid. That made her feel vulnerable and gave her a feeling of not being able to stand on her own two feet.

John looked deep into her eyes and she instantly knew that she was caught.

"Why do you keep on doing that?" He asked obviously hurt. Marguerite looked away. She couldn't stand looking him into the eyes now. John put Alasdair to the ground. The little boy watched his dad approaching his mother, but he didn't move.

"Marguerite, look at me!" He sat down next to her, touched her chin and turned her head slightly so he could look directly into her face. She was silent.

"Why do you keep hiding the truth from me? Don't you trust me?" Marguerite knew she had to say something now, because if she wouldn't answer this important question it would break his heart.

"Yes, I do..." She started, but then she paused not knowing how to continue. "I really trust you, but it has all been so much. I didn't want to bother you with some fantasies."

"But Marguerite, you yourself said you were in this stone circle and that this Rhianne told you things about your background and about our daughter being in danger. And I believe you, so why shouldn't I believe what has happened to you now?" She shrugged and took a deep breath.

"I don't know."

"I just want to help you. So please don't shut me out. You and the children mean everything to me and I couldn't stand to lose you. I love you." Marguerite was left speechless. She knew that he felt that way about her, but it touched her everytime he said it.

"I'm afraid..." She finally admitted.

....................

It was at lunchtime that Dierdre came back again. Suzanne had set the table and they were just about to eat when Marguerite started shivering. This time even John noticed the temperature of the room dropping.

"She's here." Marguerite whispered and looked directly into John's eyes. He in return starred at her and then slowly turned his head to scan the room. Naturally he didn't find anything, which didn't belong here.

"Can you sense where she is?" John asked while his look was still roaming around the dining room. Marguerite shook her head.

"No, but she's very close." At that moment Suzanne came through the door. She was carrying a bowl with steaming contents. John held up his hand and Suzanne stopped right where she was standing. She glanced from John over to Marguerite, who had closed her eyes, in confusion.

Marguerite tried to concentrate, but Alasdair's jabbering didn't make that easy at all. Suddenly the boy fell silent and at the same moment Marguerite opened her eyes.

"She's doing something to Alasdair!" She almost screamed. The little boy starred into the emptiness in front of him and he didn't move, which was absolutely not like the rather lively toddler.

Marguerite jumped to her feet and reached for her son, who was sitting right next to her. Within seconds John was at her side.

"Aly? Little one?" He shouted, but there was no reaction. Suzanne stood there with wide eyes, gaping. The bowl she had been carrying fell to the ground with a loud crash. Marguerite pressed the little child to her breast.

"Aly, come back to us..." She pleaded. And as if somebody had heard the pleas of the desperate mother the boy suddenly stirred. He began to cry. Marguerite sighed in relief as she started to sway him gently.

"She's gone." She said looking at John. He closed his eyes saying a quick prayer, a thing he hadn't done in a long time.

"That was enough!" He said then. "I'm going to phone Challenger."

Although Marguerite would have protested, if circumstances had been normal, she didn't say anything when John went to call Challenger. Usually she didn't like it when too many people were aware of her unwell- being, but this time she had realized that it was not just about her, but also about Alasdair, John and their unborn daughter. The incident with Alasdair had frightened the hell out of her, but it had also opened her eyes. She didn't want to risk the lives of the ones she loved just because she was too arrogant and too damn proud to admit that there was something wrong or to ask for help. And if anyone could help her out of that miserable situation it was Challenger.

"Mummy?" The little boy, who was now sitting on her lap, asked. Marguerite looked down to her son. His eyes and cheeks were still red from all the tears he had shed.

"Mummy!" Alasdair repeated, but this time it wasn't a question. It was more like noticing with relief that his mum was there.

"Yes, mummy is here." She stroked his short, brown hair.

"You'll see everything is going to be fine." Marguerite said and she fervently hoped that she was right.

End Chapter Thirteen...