The Trinity Sitch - Book 4: Heart of the Fury

Chapter 6: Questions of Identity

Sherry Lipsky sat up in her bed, blinking back sleep, the day and night before nothing more than a blur of pent up emotions and images that both comforted and disturbed her. The sun was fully up, the birds were chirping outside, still active in the waning days of summer. Almost immediately she started going down a mental checklist of things to do for the day. Get Amethyst to Pre-K, wash clothes, go out for groceries, pick up Drew's make-up (he didn't have the luxury of being able to turn back to normal like she could.)

As she walked by a framed picture of the summit of Mt. Middleton, she caught her reflection and stopped. She no longer recognized who she saw. The black and green jumpsuit was gone. Her exotic mint-green skin was gone. Even her trademark mane of black hair, gone. Not only gone, but she'd done some goody-two shoes thing of donating the long tresses for kids who lost their hair to chemo!

That was something Princess would do! What's happened to me?

I'm a freaking housewife! That's what!

She shuffled into the kitchen, pulling her housecoat on tighter. Among the bags still sitting on the table was a note in Drew's barely legible scrawl. What drove men like him to write so tiny?

Shego; I decided to let you sleep in this morning, so I took Ammie to Pre-K myself. I need to talk to some of the professors at Middleton College about my research project and I should be home in time for a late lunch.

Love, Dr. D.

She smiled at the note. At least Drew still called her Shego. In fact, he couldn't be broken of the habit, even in company who weren't supposed to know they were ex-super villains.

Ex-super villains.

What just happened?

She got up from the table and went into the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. She stood there a long time, just wondering who it was staring back at her. Then her imagination started running wild and she thought she could see a tiny figure, dressed all in silver and white (yes, a silver and white Shego jumpsuit!) standing on her shoulder.

You've only twenty-eight, you have a beautiful daughter, a doting husband, a nice home and you've got enough money squirreled away to live relatively comfortably for years.

Of course, whenever the angel appears on one shoulder, you know who's going to be on the other.

And there she was – right down to her red and black jumpsuit.

'Sha, right! You almost took over the world with that 'doting husband' of yours. So now you're just going to settle for this…domestic bliss? The devil side spit the last out with venom.

What did that buy you? The tiny Shego in white asked. Living hiding under the wings of somebody who was supposed to be your worst enemy, trying to play nice like you're her friend? Living with the fear that one day they will take you and your husband away, sending your daughter to live with strangers?

If you had kept at it, you could order anyone on Earth to take care of your daughter! Now what are you going to give her? A nice little comfortable life where she can go off to Pre-K and meet some funny little boy?

She screwed her eyes shut, trying to banish that image, trying to force the angel/devil conversation from her mind. Without realizing it she was back in her bedroom.

Opening the bottom drawer of her dresser, she took the entire pile of clothing out. She pressed the middle of the drawer and the false bottom popped open. There was barely an inch of space in there, but it was enough. She held the garment up in the light, trying to force her heart to slow down.

Before she knew it she was shrugging out of her house coat, pulling the long t-shirt over her head. She stood there a moment more, holding her clothing at arms length. Finally she stepped into it, feeling the cool smoothness of the fabric against her skin. She snapped the double-breasted front over her bosom and smoothed out the wrinkles.

It felt like home to her!

Then she saw herself in the mirror again.

She saw a housewife with short black hair, lightly tanned skin and brown eyes play-acting that she was Shego. She scowled at the mirror, then smirked.

Try as she might, all she saw was Sherry Lynette Godfrey Lipsky.

And most of that wasn't even her real name. She got Wade to send her a copy of her birth certificate, since she couldn't get it through official channels. It listed her name only as "Baby Girl Marks."

She didn't even have a full name. Was that why she spent so much of her life being just "Shego?"

With a low growl she sat down heavily on the end of her bed, reaching for the snaps of her jumpsuit. Then she noticed her helmet sitting on her dresser chair.

Moments later, still wearing her trademark jumpsuit, Sherry roared down the mountain road on her motorcycle, not quite sure where she was going or why.

Ron blinked twice, trying to figure out where he was. The air around him seemed oppressive and thick, full of smells, not many of them pleasant. He sat up, gingerly rubbing his temples as he tried to clear his head. His arm and chest muscles twitched in pain, bringing back memories of staff shaped weapons being leveled on him, sending back into unconsciousness.

"Don't let him wake up." He heard a voice say, only that's not what the female speaker had said. He tried remembering the words, but they would not come back to him now. He was certain it wasn't English or Latin or even French (or Norwegian!) Then the beam struck him, sending him into blackness again.

This time it was different. He was no longer in some kind of vehicle. He had the presence of mind to realize he was being moved before. Now he was sitting in some kind of cell. In the dim light he could make out a solid metal door. There were no windows, no bars, only a room carved from stone barred with a metal door. The only light came from small oil lamp sitting on a rough hewn wooden table.

In the guttering light, he realized he wasn't alone.

The man was sitting in the opposite corner of the cell. At least Ron thought he was a man. He seemed larger than normal and his face was somehow…different. Maybe it was the nose, or perhaps his pale white flesh or the fact there wasn't a hair visible on his body. A hairless albino?

He regarded Ron with eyes that seemed to suggest an inner gentleness that belied the huge muscles of the creature. Yes, he looked like a man, just a strange one. It almost seemed like he had no nose, only nostrils on his flat face.

"Bahoka'k d'gah del gr'ahk?" he asked

Was he locked up with an escapee from a Space Passage convention? Was the strange man actually speaking Corpulon?

"Um, hello, uh, speak a da English." He said, eliciting a confused look from his cell mate.

Ron sat up a little straighter, realizing he was still dressed only in a pair of paisley silk boxers. Then again, the stranger seemed to be dressed only in rags himself.

"D'kar ra nego Englash…maybe Arkonian?"

Ron shook his head again. He was certain the second half of the sentence had not been in English, yet he understood it!

Arkonian!

Oh no!

Without quite understanding how, by concentrating, Ron could form the words he wanted to say in the alien language.

"You speak Arkonian? Arkonian, like I'm speaking now?"

"You are certainly a strange little human." The albino said. "Your accent is very bad, but I can understand your words now. It is useful to speak the language of your enemy, no?"

"I, um, guess."

Ron's mind was working furiously, processing the information. Now that he thought of it, the woman's voice he heard when he briefly came to had been speaking this language, and he understood it? And it was Arkonian?

Memories of his trip to the alien world, improbably inhabited by humans, rushed back to him. What did the Arkonians have to do with his abduction, and how had they managed to do it with Yori?

Yori!

No! That wasn't Yori. The woman he knew would not have tried that. Then there was Rufus, trying to tell him it wasn't her. He wanted to believe that…

…except for one thing.

When she surprised him in his home she said something, seemingly in jest.

"Stoppable-san, I see you are still practicing your 'screams of courage.'"

Long ago, when she had come to him for aid in finding Sensei, she had surprised him then as well and naturally he had screamed. To cover his embarrassment he quickly said the same thing himself, pumping his fist in the air. He was certain it didn't fool the young ninja, who took it as more of his 'American style humor.'

There were exactly three people in the world who knew about that conversation, and one of them was a Naked Mole Rat!

The other two were Ron and Yori. After they started dating, Ron eventually told Kim everything about his time at Yamanuchi. There was no reason to hold that back any more, but he never mentioned anything about that. It just wasn't an important detail.

If that wasn't Yori, how did she know to say that?

"So, who are you?" The large, apparent alien asked him.

"Ron, Ron Stoppable."

"You don't sound Arkonian. Unless you are from some isolated region I know not of."

"Um, no, I'm from Colorado. Uh, that's on Earth."

"Earth? Never heard of it. I am Sagan Del Maath, General of the Imperial Army of Tor El Ka."

"Sorry, big guy, I've never heard of that one myself."

"Amazing they would bring one so tiny as you for the games. Most of the gladiators here are Torellians like me."

"I'm not so…did you say gladiators?"

"Of course! These are the slave pens of Dekma Den Taag on the planet Troxxite. I don't know exactly what they have planned for you, but judging from your stature I don't think it would be to make much sport against a Torellian Warrior."

Ron pulled his legs up to his body on the cold floor.

What was going on? Another planet? Again?

Kiiiiiiiiim! His mind screamed

Kim staggered just a step as at least a hundred angry swordsmen circled her, their blades leveled at her heart.

"Ron?" she said, raising a hand to her temple.

Maybe he was near!

"This is no place for you to be, Kim Stoppable-san." Said a familiar voice as the ring of shadow warriors parted. Sensei looked precisely as he had five years earlier, as if time had to hold upon him.

Like and ageless one, she thought suddenly.

"Where's Ron and where's Yori." Kim demanded, now angry with herself for causing such a scene at the mountaintop school. Perhaps she would have been wiser to have landed at the base of the mountain and hiked up.

No, that would have taken half the day. She wanted to find Ron now!

"You come to me with questions for which I have no answer, Kim Stoppable-san." With a subtle gesture dozens of ninjato swords found their homes in wooden scabbards once more, though the ring of assassins did not disperse, keeping hooded eyes on the battle suited redhead.

Kim regarded the ancient teacher with confusion evident on her face. "You mean you don't know where they are? I thought you kept tabs on Ron, and Yori lived here?"

"Walk with me, please." He said. The words were more of a command and Kim found her feet stepping out of her aircraft, following him toward a small pavilion. The gathered ninjas finally turned and dispersed, knowing the threat had now passed. They would not have done so had Sensei not shown his trust in the flame-haired woman.

"I admit, we do follow the life of your husband with much interest, but we do not posses the means to know his every single move. As for Yori, I am ashamed to say that she has betrayed the school and stolen that which was destined to belong to Stoppable-san."

Kim gasped. "The Lotus Blade?" she guessed.

"Indeed. Three weeks ago she simply vanished. She took the sword with her as well. It is my hope that she has discovered something and her actions were taken to protect the blade until such time as it is to be given to your husband, but I fear other, darker forces are at work here."

"Sensei, when I came home last night, Ron was gone. Nobody had seen him all day and he left almost all his belongings at our home. I also found his tracking chip, which had been removed from his body so we couldn't trace his location. With it, was this." She pulled out the torn scrap of black silk.

The old man studied the tattered bit of shiny cloth. His countenance fell, telling Kim that he recognized it as well.

"That is indeed part of Yori's clothing. This is not good tidings you bring us. So much is at stake now for the likes of her to be corrupted by the darkness."

"What?" Kim asked. "What's going on?

"Some months ago something happened. Yori was named the Keeper of the Blade when she was made an instructor here at the school and one night she came to me, fear in her eyes. Of its own volition the Lotus Blade rose out of its ceremonial cradle, changing before our eyes. Now, I am sure Stoppable-san has told you that the blade can take on other shapes, but never taking on the form of another sword. It was always other types of weapons. When it settled back down it would not change back, no matter how much I willed it to.

"When your husband came to us last year, we had no answers for him at that time. Nothing in our ancient scrolls, nothing in the prophecies of the Monkey Monks, nothing we could find could explain these changes. That is, until a strange woman came to visit me about six months ago. She simply walked right into the school and to my surprise, none of my students or my graduates rose to stop her. It was as if Yori and I were the only ones who could see her, though when questioned later my students admitted they had indeed seen her enter.

"She sat down and patiently explained many things, about how one spirit world could work within another, about how the Mystical Monkey Power within Stoppable-san had become entwined with another power. The she held out her hand as the Lotus Blade came ripping through the wall. It came to rest in her at her feet, glowing softly in the dusk.

"The woman warned me that dark powers would try to control the bearer of the blade, that alone that man would be vulnerable. She left, telling us that soon he would be called, and that his companions would rise with him to the challenge of the darkness. We were about to send for both of you when Yori vanished. Now all may be lost." He hung his head as he said the last. "If what you say is true, then perhaps we are now too late. The evil of one world will spread to this one."

Kim put her hand to her mouth as he said that. She realized just who the woman must have been.

The Blessed Mother!

"Sensei, you said the Lotus Blade changed. Did it look something like this." She traced the general outline of a curved sword in the sand, paying particular attention to the shape of the grip. "There was also a symbol carved on the end of the grip." She drew that in the sand as well.

Sensei's eyes grew big as saucers. "That is indeed the form the Blade had assumed. How did you know this?"

"I've seen that sword before! It's the Sword of the Effurien! Sensei, that was the Blessed Mother of Arkonia! The Lotus Blade somehow transformed into the sword we lost on Arkonia!"

He nodded at her. "It seems as if you have much to tell me as well."

"There's no time, Sensei. I've got to find Yori and Ron!"

"Patience, dear girl. With knowledge we may find the answers we seek." He patted the stone bench where Kim had been sitting a moment before.

Again, she knew it was a command and almost couldn't help but obey.

The green and black Ducati sped down the mountain road, hugging each turn as its driver expertly traversed the winding track.

Behind the darkened visor, though, she blinked back tears she didn't understand.

What is wrong with me?

Taking over the world, that was Drew's dream. She was just along for the ride, wasn't she?

Try as she might, she couldn't answer that question.

And what was all that with the Princess? A truce she could understand but that would mean taking her daughter and walking away from her for good. With her out of the villain game, she should have been able to put Kim Poss…Stoppable out of her life for good.

Why, then, did she call her up like she was one of her girlfriends…to go shopping?

What was it the buffoon always said? Oh, yeah, Sick and Wrong!

But she did it and somehow, some part of her thought it was fun! That in some, strange way thinking of Kimmie as a friend somehow made her complete.

Pulling up behind a long line of SUVs and pickups laden with mountain bikes she decided to take a break, pulling off the road and removing her helmet. Out of habit she shook her head to free her great waterfall of ebony.

Oops. Ain't there no more she had to remind herself.

She reached down to the pouch strapped to her left leg. Cops always assumed it was an ankle holster. Kind of silly thing for a woman who has her own built-in weapons, but hey, what did those fools know anyway. Shego always was a bit (just a bit?) vain, and a pouch on her leg didn't ruin the lines of her perfect figure! Who wants pockets on a skin-tight jumpsuit! And, since when did super villains carry a purse!

Sherry pulled out a compact and looked at her bloodshot eyes. "Oh, aren't you the lovely sight." She said out loud. Bloodshot eyes, helmet hair and no shower since the previous morning. Sex – ay, no lie! She mocked herself.

She staggered a moment, not sure about what was going on. She wasn't dizzy but she wasn't completely alright either. Almost in a panic she grabbed her helmet and cranked up her bike, spinning the tires as she headed back down the mountain toward the Tri-Cities.

Amethyst Lipsky was not shy. Granted, she had never before been around many other kids her age, but once she got to talking, she just about wouldn't stop.

Pre-K was opening a whole new world for the bright little girl.

That was, until the inevitable happened.

Even Pre-K has a rather rigid social order. At the top of the heap were the 5 year olds, especially the ones whose birthdays fell earlier in the year, making them the biggest and the oldest of the bunch.

There always have been and there always will be playground bullies. Whether it's something about human nature or just the lack of parental guidance, there are always bad seeds out there.

"Oh, look at the purple girl!" One boy, a red haired little monster with darkened eyes said, pointing at Amethyst. She scowled at him, smoothing out her lavender top and purple denim dress.

"I like purple. My name means purple!" She screamed, balling her tiny fists.

"No it doesn't. It's a purple rock. That's what I'm going to call you, little purple rock, because you have rocks in your head."

"Take that back!" She raged, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Or what, you'll throw little purple rocks at me?"

None of them noticed her fists starting to glow with a soft purple light.

"Oh, what are you going to do? Run off an cry like my big brother Shawn does now? Come on, cry, cry baby cry! Bwahahahaha, c'mon, cry!"

A blast of purple colored energy lifted the boy several feet in the air. He landed on his backside, staring at the enraged little girl.

"I don't cry!" Amethyst screamed, her whole upper body wreathed in swirling energy.