Chapter 2
It was a long time before Serena was able to do anything more than stare. The two names were familiar enough singly, but...there was something about the way he'd said them together that tugged unpleasantly at her ears.
"I'm...I'm...a...what...?"
"A Mary-Sue," Richard repeated, as his eyes slid back to their initial dark green, and the stare softened almost imperceptibly, "Familiar?"
She started to say no. Then she stopped. There was a strange sensation building in her mind, like recognition but far more unpleasant. She gulped.
"What is a-?" she tried to repeat it, but the words caught oddly in her throat, and after a few tries she gave up and continued, "-what you just said?"
Richard gave a quiet laugh. He straightened up, increasing the space between them to a – slightly – less intimidating distance, and shook his head.
"It's been a while since I've actually picked up one as clueless as you," he sighed, "Serena... I am not calling you Serena," he slung his robe back round his shoulders, "Try Sam."
"That's a boy's name!" Serena protested, then stopped at a snort from her captor. Richard rolled his eyes.
"Not the sharpest knife in the draw, are we? S. A. M. Initials, you don't seem the type capable of a complete severance straight off."
"Type of what?" Serena's fists balled, smacking impatiently into the worn cushion either side of her, and she managed a small glare. She was confused, angry and scared, but suddenly all that paled into insignificance alongside the sheer, almost overwhelming need to hear some clarification of what he meant.
The pouting seemed to be a mistake, as Richard's gaze iced over and he sighed. The air rushed through his set jaw, his teeth adding a strange hissing edge to the breath.
"A Mary-Sue. Okay," he ran a hand through his hair with obvious irritation, "I can't tell you much, not until you're cleared."
"Clea-?"
"I am talking," he snapped, cutting her off sharply. Serena shrank back again, trying to draw some kind of faint refuge from the sofa. There wasn't any. Nothing could erase the fact that less than an hour ago she'd been standing before the most famous train in the wizarding world, ready to board and start what she knew was going to be an exciting year. Now she was sitting on an ancient sofa in a half-derelict room, her feet magically welded to the floor, under the multi-hued gaze of a man who was standing infront of her and insisting that she wasn't even human...
This was so not how her day was supposed to have gone.
She swallowed hard and bowed her head, trying to act submissive. Richard seemed to accept the gesture and continued.
"You know about werewolves, Veela, vampires, right? In some ways, very human. In others, very not. Loosely, we fit into that category. Almost human."
"But I am-"
"Then you should need a wand!" He snapped and, to her shock, flung out a hand as he spoke. Concentration flashed across his face. On the opposite side of the room, an old vase exploded in a hail of patterned shards.
Serena's jaw dropped. No way!
"But...but you use a wand!"
"I prefer to use a wand," Richard said bitterly, pulling the thin white shape out of his robe again, "For control, there's no substitute. Wandless magical instance can happen under certain circumstances, but it's generally not controllable in that form for humans. With us, it's often the default. My channelling isn't the most focused, so I use this for subtlety."
Serena stared at him, her mind spinning. She couldn't take this in. She'd always thought...no, she knew that her ability to use focused magic without a wand was unusual, and that most people's eyes didn't change colour when their emotions ran high, but that just made her unique! Not inhuman! She wasn't anything like a werewolf!
She wasn't!
She wasn't!
"I don't understand." She hadn't meant to say it. The words just slipped out. Her shoulders slumped, tears welling anew as her control broke. Her feet were still stuck to the floor, so she crouched down over her knees, arms folded across the top of her head. After a few minutes of sobbing into her jeans, Serena raised her head and blinked tearfully up at her captor.
"Please just let me go," she gulped at the air, for once not caring that her carefully-applied mascara was now smeared across her cheeks, "Please! I just want to go to school-"
"I can't do that."
"Why not?" Anger flared past the tears and Serena suddenly found herself on her feet. She flung out her hands, holding them as steady as she could with the palms pointing directly at Richard's chest. Maybe he wasn't as tough as she'd thought....
He didn't even blink. All it did was infuriate her more and she tried to glare at him.
"Why not?" She repeated, her voice starting to shake in time with her hands, "Why won't you let me go? Tell me or...or I'll blast you!"
"Firstly," Richard folded his arms, almost lazily, "You'd be unconscious before any spell fired. And second, I'm not going to take you back because I dislike sending kids to certain death."
That surprised her. She blinked a few times, trying out the sentence several ways in her mind, before deciding she must have heard him wrong.
"I-I know what's happened at Hogwarts, but I'm not in danger-"
"Not Hogwarts," – there was a strange edge to the way he said the name – "Wizards. Who d'you think was trying their hardest to spork you to the train? You're damn lucky I'm fast, girl."
Serena's arms dropped to her sides, and her jaw to somewhere around her ankles.
"What?"
"Ask that a lot, don't you?" Richard snorted, then sighed and rubbed his forehead, "Look, as soon as Kate contacts me, we're moving. I'm not the one you'll get answers from. Just know that right now we are the only people who are not trying to kill you."
"I don't-"
"Oh shut up." Richard turned away again, shaking his head and muttering something that sounded faintly like 'bloody Serenas'. Before either could say anything more, Richard's phone beeped loudly again and he nodded.
"Time to go." He turned back to the dying fire, which sprang up again at a gesture, and tossed more powder into the flames. Another flick freed her feet and Serena meekly moved forward under his glare. What else could she do? Escape wasn't a possibility – maybe later, if she could get away from Richard – but... The things he'd said both terrified and fascinated her at the same time.
It was all rubbish, of course. He was a madman, that much had been clear from the start. She'd go along with this for now, wait until he let his guard down, then she'd be ready and she'd fight and of course she'd win, because she was obviously superior, and she'd find out what terrible secret he must be hiding and everyone would know her name as the Girl Who Escaped and she'd B t3h Ul71/\/\-
Pain exploded in her left arm and she gave a shriek, the world spinning madly for a moment as her thought broke. Her hand jerked automatically up to the site of the pain, but her fingers leapt back almost of their own accord as they brushed across the searing metal. She suddenly found herself slammed hard into the very solid edge of the fireplace. The grip was iron – her struggles about as effective as trying to press a feather through granite -
- and then the world came crashing back and the pain focused, becoming something tangible rather than the all-consuming fire. Serena's eyelids finally responded to her commands and snapped open. Her view was immediately filled with Richard's currently oily-black glare. A small yelp escaped her lips as his grip tightened again, the razor prongs biting even deeper into her arm.
"Don't do that." His voice was flat, cold, emotionless but for the danger skirting his tones. Pure threat sheathed in frozen velvet.
"I...I didn't..." Serena started, but was cut off as Richard stood back and gave a quiet snarl.
"It's not you I'm worried about. Serenas aren't powerful, usually, but be that as it is I am not taking one in unleashed."
"Unleashed?"
"Explanations are not my concern," Richard shrugged as he withdrew the spikes and Serena couldn't restrain a shudder of relief. She blinked tearfully up at her captor as he pocketed the metal and brushed down his cloak in a nonchalant manner, as if he'd done nothing more than some trivial household task.
"Please tell me! I-I'm scared, okay?" A burst of unexpected embarrassment flared past her fear and she had to struggle not to begin staring at her shoes, "Isn't that what you want to hear?"
"No." Richard finally turned back, an odd expression on his face, and Serena found she couldn't meet his gaze, "It's not. And you know what I'm talking about now. Control it."
His hand clamped painfully hard onto her shoulder and shoved her into the emerald flames.
"The Terrace."
Serena's stomach lurched as the fire flared up again and the world swirled away into the sparks. She squeezed her eyes shut to avoid the nauseating whirl of half-obscured grates dancing behind the flames. Thankfully, this trip seemed shorter than the last, and she was just able to keep her balance when her feet finally hit solid floor again.
She kept her eyes shut. Where had he brought her this time?
"Richard, checking in." The voice was unfamiliar, female, and Serena risked easing her eyes open a crack. The resulting view wasn't what she had expected. They were standing in a slightly blackened brick alcove, which bore the marks of having had a large range removed somewhere in the past. That made sense – from what Serena could see they were in quite a spacious kitchen, although the area was a kind produced by knocking several cramped rooms through into one rather than good design. Most of the furniture was a little worn, although there appeared to be some newer, Muggle-style appliances scattered around.
However, while the décor was surprising in its ordinariness, the six figures surrounding the fireplace, brandishing wands, were far from it. They were...well, 'beautiful' was the only word for it. Perfect skin, perfect teeth, smooth hair in myriad shades, apparently complete with natural highlights. Six pairs of almost jewel-like eyes glittered as they fixed hard stares on her and Serena shrank back. Then she blinked. There was something...not quite right here. The women were all gorgeous, true, but some things about them contrasted sharply with the façade of splendour. Not a single one was wearing make-up, for example, and half of them had their silken locks tied back into what on anyone else would be distinctly unflattering – however functional – knots. Their clothes were an odd mix of Muggle and Wizard clothing, battered trainers and boots peeking out from under faded jeans or robes, and none of it showed off their figures.
It was...odd. Surely they'd make more of an effort. She certainly did and-
A small lump caught in her throat, but before she could continue the thought any further she was pushed forward into the semi-circle of wands. Richard stepped out of the fireplace behind her and nodded to the group in front of them.
"Richard, checking in. With guest," he turned so he was addressing the shortest of the group – a Japanese-looking girl with her head capped in small braids – who had produced a notebook, "Serena Amber Mercedes, twelve, wandless, ocular cycle, no interaction, mostly oblivious. Platform pickup. Possible non-expressed l33t incident. Mild field sporking, suppression only. Suggested moniker Sam, possibly not stable enough for full separation." He almost sounded bored as he reeled off the list. Serena finally managed to draw her stare away from the wands pointed at her nose in time to see the Japanese girl nod and step back.
"I'll add it to the archives. Kate's in Scanns, we had another alert just after you phoned in. En-route possible breech – Lucy's on it, don't stress."
"I wouldn't dream of it, Luce can handle herself," Richard nodded back and began steering Serena towards the gap that opened up in the wall of women and towards a door at the far end of the room. Serena looked up at him as they stepped out into a narrow hallway, the breadth of which was not aided by the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stretching along the walls.
"Where am I?"
"The Terrace," he answered shortly, "And almost out of my hands, thank Merlin. I'm Field, and you, miss overly-developed pre-teen, will soon no longer be my problem. Move."
Serena found herself being forcibly escorted through a multi-level maze of corridors and stairwells. The more she saw of this 'Terrace' though, the more puzzled she felt. Whenever they passed an open door she got a brief glimpse of yet more model-lookers, varying ages but all young, probably ranging from around her own age to however old Richard appeared to be. She didn't have time to see what they were doing as she was whisked past, but she caught snatches of what sounded like Muggle television from some rooms, yet the sound of spells from others. The walls were crowded with an odd mix of immobile posters, and the more usual tapestries or animated pictures. Obviously magical lamps hung from the ceiling in some places, but in others forty-watt bulbs were wired in.
This was weird. Was she in a Muggle dwelling or a magic one?
What was going on?
They came to an abrupt halt at the foot of a particularly large set of stairs and Serena found herself swung round so she was staring directly at Richard again.
"Still afraid, girl?"
"...yes..."
"Then let me give you some advice: If you're scared of me, don't go thinking Kate's a safer option." With that he planted a hand on her back again and propelled her up the stairs. They led onto a small landing, at the end of which was a door with 'Scanns' screwed onto it in metal letters. Richard pushed it open and Serena stumbled through. She looked up quickly, unsure of what to expect. A large room, looking like a cross between a library and an accountant's office, wasn't it. Bookshelves lined every wall, the continual shelving broken by roller-blind edged windows and the occasional computer terminal. Desks piled high with papers, parchment and over-loaded pots of stationary were crowded in rough circles along the room, interspersed with slightly battered sofas and equally cluttered coffee tables. Every flat surface was obscured with a bizarre mish-mash of magic and Muggle items – semi-disassembled sneakoscopes intermixed with calculators, quills piled in with biros, and the pictures in stacks of Daily Prophet copies eyed their sedentary Mirror stack-mates with mild distain.
As she had expected by now, this room was also filled with women. Swim-suit model-look-alikes in battered robes flicked through massive, dusty tomes, while two girls with shoulder-length pink ringlets tapped furiously away on laptop keyboards, scribbling with peacock-quills on a small mountain of computer printout as they did so. Others were less fixed in their positions and moved from one area to the next, comparing information. The air was filled with a low buzz of chatter, broken occasionally by less-ordinary sounds emitting from one of the strange devices wedged into the shelves.
The conversation paused briefly for a second as they entered, but started up again quickly. Apparently there was nothing novel about the entry.
"Hey Richard! Good hunting?"
Serena blinked as she looked up and, with considerable surprise, saw Richard's face split into the first genuine smile she'd yet seen gracing his features. She followed his gaze. The object of his attention was a young woman, who was leaning on her elbows over the back of a large armchair nearby. Serena blinked again. The woman's short, spiky hair was...red. Bright red – the kind of colour that synthetic dye wished it could achieve. The face it capped was peppered with freckles above an impish grin. One dark eye of a mismatched pair flicked closed in a wink and she nodded to Richard, who grinned back again. It was strange, seeing anything other than scorn or hostility on his face.
"You know me, Jackie."
"Our ever-dark and mysterious Master of the Ocular Cycle?"
"Funny."
"Naturally," the woman grinned again, swung herself off the seat and made her way over. Serena half made to draw back behind Richard – not that he exactly offered much in the way of protection, but better the devil you knew... She needn't have worried. The red-haired woman stopped infront of them, and somehow her grin widened even further.
"So you're our new addition," she cocked her head to one side, exaggerating the quizzical expression, "Well, since I know what Richard may have in field skills he often lacks in social ones, I'll assume it ain't all been coming up roses for you today, eh? I'm Jackie," she held out a hand, "And you are...?"
"I'm...er..." Serena glanced up at Richard again, remembering his reaction to her name. Was that typical?
Jackie seemed to guess what was bothering her and leaned forward conspiratorially.
"Listen, my starting moniker was 'Zitkalasa'. Frankly, I'd be overjoyed to meet someone whose was worse."
"She's a Serena," Richard said shortly, shooting a small glare down at her, as if it were somehow her fault, "I thought Sam would be a less nauseating option."
"Serena?" Jackie raised an eyebrow for a moment, then shook her head slightly, "Third one this month? Something big waiting in the wings, ya think?"
Richard answered before Serena was able to even start trying to figure out what the red-haired woman was talking about.
"You come in after Kate sorts them, remember? If she survives, then you can start exchanging theories."
The rest of the exchange was lost on Serena, who was too busy staring to panic. If she survivies? What the hell did he-? She didn't get to finish the thought as Richard swung her round again and moved off, to a quiet "Good luck" from Jackie. Serena tried to turn round but his grip was too good and all she succeeded in doing was sending fresh sparks of pain from the wound on her arm.
"What's going on?" She half-yelled. She might as well have been under a silencing charm for all the good it did. No one even glanced up at the sound of her struggles, and she got the horrible feeling that this was all too routine here. She still didn't even know where 'here' was!
This was not right!
It-
"Right on time, Richard."
Serena's head jerked up at the crisp tones and she came to a sudden halt. They'd reached the far end of the room, where a small flight of steps led up to a raised area of flooring, surrounded by a wooden rail. Her attention immediately locked on the figure leaning lazily over that rail. Even by the standards she'd seen so far, the woman was striking. She was tall, slender in build and with waist-length, white-blonde hair. She held herself elegantly, authority radiating out from her at every slight movement. A pair of pale blue eyes cast a piercing stare down at her and Serena suddenly felt an intense desire to be somewhere else. As if sensing her thought, Richard's hand closed around her arm again and he firmly escorted her forwards.
"Remember what I said," he hissed quietly, then turned his attention back to the tall woman. She got the same real smile as Jackie had earlier.
"Reporting in."
"This is it?" The woman – Kate – glanced at Serena again with obvious distain, then sighed, "Well, far be it from me to criticize your field decisions Richard-"
"Very far, Kate," there was almost a warning edge in his voice. A shot of amusement flickered in Kate's eyes and her lips twitched into a thin smile.
"Indeed. So, Serena," the ice returned as she looked back at Serena, "What do you think of our little group so far?"
It was a few seconds before Serena could force her vocal chords to actually respond.
"I...have...never been so scared in my life..." She squeaked.
Kate gave a quiet sound, which might almost have been concealing a laugh.
"Good start."
____