LX: Semantics

“So you propose we wait here, until Alyxa loses her mind and we grow even more ancient than we are?” Morpheus demanded.

-Not exactly. Enyo says that there is movement in the real world.-

“Does that line go both ways?” Alyxa asked, looking at the caged goddess with bright eyes, “I mean, you could send a message to my parents?”

“Your parents are dead, little one,” Morpheus murmured.

-Anyways,- Bast interrupted before Alyxa could go on, -Enyo says that the wait will not be long now.-

“Lemme get this straight before you say anything more,” Alyxa said, suddenly completely lucid, “we wait here. Someone rocks up. Presumeably this person is mortal. We’re still going to sacrifice another human being? Kill another human being.”

-It might be a dog,- Bast offered, -we might sacrifice a dog? That wouldn’t be hard right?-

Alyxa gave her a weird look.

“I believe Alyxa’s point is, are you willing to sacrifice anyone to let little darling Enyo here work her magic,” Lucifer’s voice said and they all started.

The Prince of Darkness, Lord of Evil, etc. etc. was lounging quite comfortably in his throne between the two cages. He had not been there a moment before.

“Lucifer – ” Morpheus started.

“Oh tut, tut, darling,” the Morning Star chided, waving a hand in the Dream-King’s general direction, “you don’t think you can scheme here without me knowing it? I practically raised betrayal to an artform, remember? I am very familiar with it.”

-It’s not betrayal if you’re plotting against the Enemy,- Bast pointed out, her mental voice sickly sweet.
“Rub that in, why don’t you, kitty,” Lucifer pouted.

Bast hissed at him.

“He does have a point though,” Alyxa whispered, “can we kill anyone?”

“You could always take me up on my offer,” Luficer reminded them.

LIX: Viable

-You see, Enyo cannot break herself free, but given the right amount of power, she can free me. I would like to see that glittering poofball of a fallen Arc deal with me without these bars!- Bast explained as Enyo beckoned them closer.

“I…I know some of where Enyo’s power comes from,” Morpheus said, hesistantly, “just how much blood is it going to take?”

Enyo glanced at Bast and their communication took place again; Bast didn’t reply and sat instead in silence.

“That bad, huh?” Alyxa murmured, “well…if it’s going to take that much blood you might as well kill me and be done with it. If I stay here any longer I’m going to lose it all anyways.”

Morpheus tightened his grip on her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped.

-She’s making you more human isn’t she?- Bast observed, looking up from her paws, -if you had spent less time in the real world you’d have agreed that her sacrifice would have been the most pragmatic option, were it a viable option to start with.-

“What do you mean?”

Enyo gestured shortly, her sweet smile aimed somewhere between Bast and Morpheus.

-Alyxa’s blood is here because she was sent here, against her will. As a result any sacrifice she makes is against her will.-

“Do you have any idea how illogical that sounds?” the Dream-King demanded and Alyxa rolled her eyes.

“Oh, pretty,” she whispered, realizing that there were bright blues and reds glimmering on the high ceiling.

-She’s not herself,- Bast pointed out, -how can you expect her to make a decision she would make otherwise?-

Morpheus slumped his shoulders.

“Then what? There are no other mortals here with blood to give.”

Enyo laughed then, and it was an eerie laugh bereft of amusement, soundless, cold and yet… lonely.

LVIII: Theology

“So you want to make the child swim down into Hell through the Sibyl’s lake, talk to the devil, and convince him to let the Dreamer and the others go?”


It was the way that Medea said it, the scoffing tone, that made it sound ridiculous.

“Yes,” Jessica said.

“Better to send one of the pretty boys, at least they might have something to offer the Morning Star,” the Witch-Queen stated, and Jessica sensed her sitting down, one knee drawn over the other.

“No smoking inside please, Miss Medea,” Amy’s young voice piped in. A crackle of power, a grumbled response, and the smell of smoke vanished.

“You do realize no mortal child has done this before,” Achilles pointed out as an aside from his conversation with Hector on the phone.

“It’s what she Saw,” Michael said.

“Why don’t you go? You’ve fought him before and won,” Medea pointed out, “if I recall the stories correctly, you’re the reason why he’s down there in the first place.”

Jessica felt Michael tense.

“My Father is not entirely…interested in these affairs. He sent the Arcs to Earth to be caretakers.”

“Typical, absentee parents, what more could you base religion on?” Medea sneered. Jessica could almost see her beautiful lips curving upwards in a sardonic smile.

“Better an absentee Father who loves than none at all,” Michael countered.

“Better a set of parents that can admit when they’ve blundered,” the Witch retorted.

“Will you two please grow the fuck up?” Achilles demanded, stepping back into the room again.

“You said a bad word, Mr. ‘chilles,” Amy chided softly.

“For which I apologize profusely, my dear,” he turned to the others in the room, “that was Hector. So unless someone comes up with another plan it’s wheel’s up in two hours. We’re goin’ swimming!”

LVII: Frightened

Alyxa couldn’t sleep. It was, quite literally, driving her insane, and all Morpheus could do was watch her. More often than not, afraid to leave her alone, he carried her around in his arms, letting her talk at him or simply be silent as he wandered the halls of Hell. He had come here rarely when it had still been under Hades’ rule, and he had to admit – quietly – that Lucifer had a flair for the dramatic. The lofty ceilings and great pillars were swarming with golds and silvers, deep velvet blues and blacks. Everywhere you turned there were paintings and portraits; it was very much like wandering through a museum or palace of the ages. Lucifer left them to their own devices for the most part, dropping in every now and then to see if Morpheus had had enough time to think. This place wore on you; people did not sleep here, or dream, as most of them were dead. For Dreamers then, it was agonizing, and for the Dream-King himself? He knew he was fading in power.

Alyxa tugged on his sleeve and he glanced down at her.

“Can we go home yet?” she asked softly, her internal battle clouding her eyes.

“Soon, my love,” he replied softly. She shifted in his grip.

“Let’s go see Bast?”

He nodded and turned, wandering in the direction of the throne room. Lucifer wasn’t there, but the two cages were. Bast looked up as they entered and stretched her panther-shape.

-Good, you’re here. Enyo, tell them.-

The goddess Kali – also known as Enyo in the Greek world – beckoned them closer. From what Morpheus understood, she had been one of the first that Lucifer had trapped, afraid of her. Who wouldn’t be? Goddess of Destruction, Ares’ lover and consort, Lady of Fire…

LVI: Swimming

There is a lake. A deep lake. So deep that it rivals any ocean. She can see a girl swimming in the water. It’s the little girl from the living room. She’s wearing a rather pink frilly dress.


Jessica can feel nothing save for Medea’s claw, wrapped around her throat in a somehow gentle grip.

Then...

The water is freezing. She sees through the child’s eyes.

Down, down. I mustn’t be afraid. Alyxa is down there. I’m the only one can go get her. The pretty girl said so. I have to rescue Alyxa and Mr. Morpheus, and Bast. I’m the only one. I can hold my breath forever! The scary witch lady told me so. I shouldn’t call her that, but she’s mean! Though she did let me have pasta for dinner. That was nice.

The stream of consciousness is punctuated here and there by spikes of suppressed terror at being unable to reach the bottom before she runs out of breath. If there even is a bottom to this vastness. Then, there it is, a brilliant glimmer of light, like a whirlpool deep beneath the waters.

Jessica blinked as the vision cleared itself from her eyes, restoring the chaos of colours.

“Well?”

“There’s a lake,” Jazzy said into the room, feeling Medea’s hand slip away, “and a whirlpool beneath it. The little Dreamer has to swim into it. She’s the only one who can bring them back.”

“Me?” the child’s voice squeaked, sounding for the first time.

“Yes, that’s what I Saw. Don’t be scared, you’ll be alright. Medea here will cast a spell on you so you won’t need to breath underwater or something. Can you swim?”

The girl nodded – relayed by Michael.

“What then?” Medea demanded.

“No idea.”

“Pit a child against the Devil?” Achilles suggested.

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…”