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Originally posted August 11, 2008

((Crossovers are always fun. This story took two characters that didn't really know each other together to solve an issue. Unfortunately, the story was eventually retconned out as "too depressing." Still, it's another collaboration with Ultradynamic that I greatly enjoyed.))

The apartment door seemed normal, one of many in this older high-rise in King's Row. Regina didn't even see them, however, until she got right up next to the entrance. Someone had drawn a series of intricate patterns and formula on the inside edge of the doorframe. They seemed to glow softly in the fluorescent light of the hallway. Reg had seen weirder things. It didn't take too much courage to knock on the door.

The door swung open, driven by a calloused yet feminine hand. Siobhan Wawick stood just under five and a half feet tall, with wavy red hair cascading down around a pale, smiling face. She couldn't be older than 22, Regina guessed. Dressed in a tee-shirt and jeans, she hardly seemed like a witch. Still, Siobhan exuded some quantity of life and buoyancy. Regina found herself matching Siobhan's grin.

"Ach," Siobhan began, "Ye must bae American Promise. Ah kin see while 'e fancies ye. Aren't ye a fine lass, quite fetching. Dinnae stand gawking in the hallway. Come in lass."

Reg felt a small tug on her skin as she passed through the threshold, like walking through cobwebs. The door opened into a sparsely furnished living room. A series of cushions and thick carpets littered the space, a low hand crafted table in its center. Hand woven tapestry adorned the walls, inter-spaced between full bookcases.

Regina felt a small chill as she entered the room, a feeling of subtle menace. Did that shadow just move? Siobhan called out to the dark spaces in the corners in what Reg guessed was Polish. Shiv turned to her and said, "Dinnea mind Jacek, lass. He's mae cie, a shadow, my bodygard. 'e likes tae give everyone a guid sniff before they git tae far in. Please make yerselv comfortable by the table. Mind the under the shelves. Damn dust bunnies took a nip out of a guest last week. Ah need tae gather some things." Siobhan retreated into another room.

Regina did as she was told, a bit more disquieted with every passing moment. She looked around the room. Taking a seat on the floor, she noticed a laptop and iPod pushed over to one side of the room. Dust covered the computer. Tons and ton of books lined the walls. No television in sight.

Siobhan reentered the room, carrying a covered tray. She settled into a kneeling position across the table from Regina with a smooth grace. "Ah've been working on the base of the invocation and 'ave it jist so. Ah ken ain't tae tough, but there's a difference 'tween chalk and shears."

Siobhan removed the fabric cover from the tray and began to arrange its contents on the table. "Lass, ah trust ye considered what ah told ye," she said, laying an earthenware bowl in the center of the table. "Before we start, ah need tae 'ear 'ow far yer willing tae go. If ye decide tae weight yer life agien finding them, well nothing calls tae blood like blood." She placed a think candle to the left of the bowl. "Ye should know." She placed an iron dagger to the right of the bowl. "This will 'urt a bit by the time we're through.

"So tell mae, lass. 'ow far are ye willing tae take this and what di ye bring mae?"

-- by Ultradynamic

Pulling out a small bag, Regina removed items that belonged to each of her parents. For her father, she had the old fashioned brush he still used to put on his shaving cream, a spare pair of his glasses, a jar of Jamaican jerk seasoning, a Charles Mingus record, and a bottle of his cologne. For he mother, she had brought a hair pick, a granny smith apple, a Miles Davis record, a sketch she had drawn of Regina when she was three months old, and hibiscus flower. "Each of these hold special meaning for my folks and uses each of the senses you mentioned. Do you really think this will work?"

-- by Rex Celestis

Siobhan smiled as she reached for the albums. "Ach, vinyl." She held them to her chest, closing her eyes and breathing them in. With the records still pressed against her, a free hand navigated and explored the other items on the table. "Ye di well, lass. These are old things, strongly connected tae yer ma and da." She held up the shaving brush, making slow circular motions in the air, grin widening. "Of course 'twill work. Tis now a question of using these things, tae remind yer body of yer connection tae them."

Shiv spoke Polish to the shadows. The room seemed to lighten for a moment. Some trick of the light, thought Regina. The room suddenly dimmed. From the corner of her eye, Regina watched two bulbous, tumorous hands place an old portable record player on the table. Siobhan spoke again. The shadows responded in a creaky train voice; the pull of great weight over stretched metal. Regina looked down towards her lap, her stomach telling her it might be time to leave.

The young mage said a few words in carefully measured Polish. After a moment, the room lightened again. "Tis alright, lass," Siobhan said to Regina. "Dinnea faecsh yeselv 'bout Jacek. We 'ave a hate - hate relationship." American Promise looked up. "Sides," Shiv continued, "This magic works better when 'tis jist us lassies."

Siobhan's lips drew into a thin line. "Are ye ready?"

Regina felt the weight of the words. No. Even after facing Rikti War Gods and countless villains, she wasn't quite sure she was ready to be sitting in this room with this witch with whatever that shadow thing was, nearby. She was ready, however, to find her parents. She nodded, slowly.

Siobhan passed the albums back to Regina. "Take these out while Ah git the turntable ready." The mage reached her hand above the candle and ignited it with a snap of her figures. The antique record player took longer to prepare. Within a few moments, Miles Davis filled the air.

Following Shiv's instructions, Regina prepared the spell. The tart sweetness of the granny smith filled her mouth, followed by the mellow heat of the jerk seasoning. A shaving brush tickled her arm. A pick stood cockeyed in her hair. She looked at a sketch of herself through her father's borrowed eyes. By the time the last song of the Mingus album began, she felt close to them; surrounded by them. The bowl, filled with bits and pieces of her parents' life, simmered unheated on the table.

Siobhan extended her hand over the bowl, palm up. "Give me yer hands lass." Smiling, strangely comforted by the sounds, smells, and tastes of her parents, Regina placed her hands in Shiv's. Swaying gently to the music, the mage used her other hand to arrange Regina's, turning the palms up. Their two bodies fell into the rhythm of the music. Their eye met across the bubbling concoction on the table between them. Regina turned her head to watch the record player's needle slowly lift from the albums surface and felt a twinge of sadness.

Siobhan's calloused hand closed around Regina's. Startled, the young woman tried to jerk her hands free, but could not win against the blacksmith's strength. With a flowing, swift moment, Shiv lifted the dagger off the table, slashing it across Regina's exposed wrists. Pain flooding her body, Reg watched the veins pour her life into the bowl below.

Smoke from the bowl billowed upward in a pillar, obscuring the hands and blood. Regina felt Shiv release her, but she could not remove her arms from the mists. She let out a shout of fear and anger.

As the smoke faded, Regina rose to her feet. She lifted her arms to her face. Deep cuts transected each wrist. They did not bleed. They throbbed with pain, low and deep. Regina turned on Siobhan, "What did you do to me!"

Siobhan had slumped against some cushions, her skin pale. She still held the dagger loosely in her right hand. She spoke, unable to lift her head from the pillow. "Ah've reminded yer body, lass. Ah've reminded it of its connection tae yer parents. Blood calls tae blood. Ye ken now find them on yer own. Yer wounds will tell ye which way tae go. All ye need tae di is point." Siobhan smiled weakly.

Regina held out her arms in front of her and slowly turned. The pain subtly changed depending on her direction.

"They may nae be 'ere," Siobhan continued. "On this pane or even this time, Ah reckon. Ye'll need tae go to the Pocket D, Ouroboros, or some other extra dimensional space tae track them if they innae. But now, ye ken find them wherever, whenever, they are."

Siobhan's face whitened and her smile faded. "There's a part of ye with them now; a part ye cannae live without. Ye need tae make yerselv whole. Ye 'ave one month, lass. A cycle. Yer cycle. If ye 'aven't found them by then, yer wounds will start tae bleed. Nae power Ah ken will bae able tae stop ye from bleeding tae death."

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