LV: Shift

The kaleidoscope of colours that made up what was left of Jessica’s sight went crazy as soon as they stepped into the house; she could feel walls shifting; things seemed out of place here. Like Alice in Wonderland, or worse, Alice through the damned looking glass. They were sitting in a sunlit room; she could feel the light warm against the curve of her cheek.

“Have you Seen anything useful, girl?”

The voice itself was scary enough, and it did not help in the slightest that Jazzy knew what she looked like from the Sight.

“I Saw enough to bring me here,” Jessica replied nervously.

“Brilliant, you’re here, now See more.”

“Go easy on her, Witch Queen,” Jazzy heard Michael say, an edge creeping into his voice. He faltered, however, under the gaze that was turned on him; Jazzy didn’t need her eyes to be able to feel those eyes; they would have set a blaze to icicles.

“I’m new at this,” Jessica said quietly, “it’s only been two days.”

“I knew Morrigan, she was a Cassandrian like no other. Trust her to die inconveniently and leave me with...this to work with,” Medea replied.

“Now, now, Mercedes, you’re being snappy,” Achilles chided.

“My great-mother’s name was Morgan,” Jazzy said softly.

“It used to be Morrigan,” Medea snapped.

“Well, I knew her as Morgan, and I’m sorry if you feel slighted,” Jessica told her, her voice sharper than she realised, “I know these things: the Dreamer that the Morning Star has is slowly losing her grip on reality. I know we must bring her back soon. That is all.”

“Perhaps I can jog your Sight along,” Medea murmured, apparently completely disregarding what had been said. Jessica started back, but could not escape the carefully-manicured fingers that caught her chin, viciously.
“See.”

LIV: Flirtation

“That is the strangest house I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen quite a few houses over the centuries,” Michael stated as he brought the car to a halt in front of the house that Jessica indicated with a ‘stop here!’.

“It feels weird too, like it’s a corner house only it’s not on a corner.”

“Well, it is on a corner,” Michael told her, “only it doesn’t look like it was to start with. What the hell happened to this place?”

“If this is the captured Dreamer’s house I’d say it has something to do with the power of Reveille.”
“Most likely, it’s certainly nothing from my people.”

With Michael’s help she made it to the front door and rang the bell. Jessica realised her heart was beating really fast; what on earth was she doing here, the only reason why she was here at all was because of what she had Seen.
“Yes?”
The door cracked open, and Michael was taken aback by the handsome masculine face that peered out. He heard Jazzy gasp and found himself switching his vision to the Divine Sight. The stranger blazed with age-old energy that outdated Michael and his kin.

“You must be one of the Trojans,” Michael said.

The door opened revealing a handsome figure to follow the golden-hair-framed face.

“Greek, actually. You must be an Arc, and damn, you really are as pretty as they say. Which one are you?”
“My name is Michael.”

“Ah, the Sword. Charmed. I’m Achilles – Andreas in this time,” the old hero looked at Jessica and raised an eyebrow, “and the little lady?”

“Jessica Mirkhill,” Jazzy said before Michael could introduce her.

Achilles’ eyes narrowed.

“As in ‘Morgan Mirkhill’, you are the one who Sees?”

“I am.”

“Finally, maybe now we’ll get some answers, come in.”

LIII: Rendezvous

“We have to go,” Jessica exclaimed, frustrated by her new disability. She wanted to be moving, to grab her coat and get into a car.

“Where are we going?” Michael asked, pressing her coat into her hands and steering her in the direction of the door.

“There’s a house…in Mirrorgrove, there’s a young Dreamer there, and a cat, and - ”

“‘The Queen of Witches’?” Michael quoted.

“That’s the first thing that popped into my head when I saw her.”

“What did she look like?” Michael asked.

They were in the elevator now, she could feel the space around her and heard the doors slide open and shut.
“Tall, beautiful. She had black hair, pale skin. I donno. She reminded me of that fairy-tale description of Snow-white. You know?”

“‘Raven-black hair, skin pale as snow, lips red as roses’ or whatever?”

“That. She was terrifying. I could feel her power, and it wasn’t…nice.”

“Medea then, thankfully.”

“The Sight shows me a terrifying red witch lady and you’re saying thanks?” Jazzy breathed, confused, “didn’t you hear me when I said she was ‘terrifying’?! She’s with the Dreamer child.”

“Yeah, I heard you – mind your step – but Medea is, for the most part, on our side.”

“What do you mean ‘for the most part’?”

“Ever heard of the missing Romanov princess Anastazcia?”

“Russian Revolution urban legend stuff, sure.”

“Ares gave her into Medea’s keeping to keep her safe, so that the Czar’s family would have some sort of direct descension.”

“So she’s alive?” Jessica breathed.

“Er…not exactly,” Michael told her, helping her into the car, “see…Medea doesn’t deal well with children. They say that by the time a decision could be made, the Witch had lost her temper, and the girl was in several pieces. So if she’s with the Dreamer child…”

LII: Coordination

Michael helped Jazzy move around her apartment. She had lived here since the death of her parents. It had been hard at first, being mostly alone, and so young; a fourteen-year-old girl by herself with a largely absentee guardian sometimes had it rough, but Jazzy got along fine, somehow she always did. Unfortunately, for all that she was in familiar territory she was having trouble remembering where everything was and what the layout of the room was.

“You’re trying too hard,” Michael pointed out when she nearly tripped over a footstool, “your body knows where everything is, just trust it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jessica mumbled sourly, “you keep saying that. I never really had any eye-hand coordination, now it seems like I don’t have any coordination whatsoever.”

“It’ll come back, honey girl,” he said, trying to reassure her, “just give it time.”

“Hey, do you think that I can get out of phys. ed. now?”

“I hadn’t thought of it.”

“I guess I’ll have to try to explain it to them, somehow. Being a liberated teen is kinda hard,” she said and her blind eyes went wide with sudden shock.

“What? Jazz?”

“I can’t read anymore…” she whispered, blinding reaching her hand for his.

Michael took it and squeezed it gently.

“Guess you’re going to have to learn how read Braille?”

“I guess,” she murmured despondently, “if I’d known that it would’ve – ”

She had gone still, Seeing; a living room, a cat asleep on a brown sofa, a child playing on the floor. The child was surrounded by a strange green-blue light. The view changed, and Jessica started. The woman was tall, taller than any woman she had ever seen before, surrounded by darkness that was steeped in blood. So much power there.

“The Witch Queen,” she whispered, knowing instantly.