In the Beginning
Part 6
An
hour later, Target was leaning against his workbench, hands over his eyes, I
was sitting on a stool in the middle of his workroom looking like I'd just gone
on trial and Robin was pacing the floor in front of me.
"You
are sorely testing my patience," said Robin.
"I'm
not doing it on purpose!" said I, defensively. "It's not my
fault I can't get stuff exactly right!"
"That
wouldn't be happening if you'd just put a little more confidence in yourself.
Stop closing your eyes to create, it tampers with the focus of your power. And
stop all the extra special effects. You don't have to have a flash of light
everytime you make something. And concentrate on creating things, not on how
bad you are at it. You'll only be able to make as much as you think you can."
"Alright,
alright, I'll try again!" I sighed, rolling my eyes.
"Not
like that, try with some determination!" said Robin, almost
pleading.
I
took a deep breath and concentrated on making a butterfly with the wings
Naomi'd had. First I made the little bug body, then I gradually added the wings
and then the beautiful colors.
"Beautiful!"
gasped Robin as I added the last touches of color. The minute I finished, the
poor thing dropped to the ground, as if the weight of its own wings brought it
down. Disappointed, I uncreated it and sighed.
"Y'see?"
I began. "I tried, I had confidence, and I blew it."
Target
got up and walked over to me, saying, "Listen, luv, y'got 'er workin' on
the wrong sort'a stuff, 'ere. Now, look," he said to me, "let's say
the wall ova there is Naomi. Show me what y'd do to 'er."
Almost
without thinking, I made a powerball of energy in one hand and threw it at the
wall. The ball exploded through the wall and through the one behind it.
Robin
and I gasped, while Target grinned in delighted pride.
"Dude,
sorry about your wall," I said, recreating them to fix the holes.
"Daina,"
said Robin, "do you realize that not only did you make that hole,
but you fixed it, too, without any trouble at all?"
"I-I
did?" I said, surprised. "Hey, yeah, I did!"
"Motivation,"
said Target, with a wink. "I think we're all set to go help Christine,
don't you?"
"Hell,
yeah!" I exclaimed leaping off my stool.
"Your
Ladyship," gasped Naomi, flying into Lady Wilira's
receiving-room-turned-art-studio and changing to human size as she landed.
"I..."
"Peace,
Naomi," said the elderly, but still graceful lady. She lay reclined upon a
psychiatrist's couch with a lock of wavy silver white hair over her closed
eyes, her back to the fairy while one hand remained in the air making gentle
sweeping motions. As she did, colors appeared in brilliant hue on a yet
unfinished wall mural. No brush or paints were present; the colors and strokes
seemed to appear on their own at Wilira's command. Finally, she stopped, turned
to Naomi with her eyes closed, then opened them. Their violet pupils focused on
Naomi. She frowned as if disappointed with Naomi's presence and asked,
"What is it?"
"It's
Daina, m'Lady. She's gotten away and hooked up with Robin and Target,"
said Naomi. "Robin's sided with her now and..."
"Naomi,
Daina and Robin have almost always sided together. Why should now be any
different?" said Lady Wilira, somewhat detatched.
"No,"
said Naomi. "That's the trouble. I don't think this actually is
Daina, m'Lady."
"And
why not?"
"Well,
the Daina we know has no trouble casting spells and is a much quicker fighter
than this one. I think she's an imposter."
"Then
why should I worry?" asked Her Ladyship, tucking a lock of hair behind her
dainty ear.
"She
may be an imposter, but who knows what talents she holds. Slow to fight
sometimes means quick to think and under Target's wing, she could be deadly
with both."
"So
what do you propose?"
"That
you either take an extended vacation or be prepared to deal with somebody with
a couple extra cards up her sleeve."
Lady
Wilira's face began to take on a strangely youthful glow. "I see. That
would require a bit of creativity on her part, would it not?"
"Uh,
yeah, I guess," frowned Naomi. Her danger sense was trying to tell her
something, but she wasn't sure what.
"Well,"
said Lady Wilira. She leaned back in her couch with a smile, then closed her
eyes to paint again. "Point well taken, minion, but I think I will wait
for the arrival of this creative new fighter." She paused again and turned
to Naomi. "And you thought of all this yourself?"
Naomi
squinted suspiciously. "A smart merc always watches her back," she
said.
"Perhaps
I misjudged your potential, Naomi," came the reply with a fond smile.
"Send my daughter in and then bring the child up afterward."
"Yes,
m'lady." Naomi backed out. Gettin' too weird around here, she
thought to herself. I better cut out after I get the kid.
By
the time Dove entered her mother's drawing room, she was sitting comfortably
against her sofa again. She rose, extending her arms toward Dove in reception
as her somewhat stately gown turned into a regal sparkling toga. Her hair,
perviously pinned behind her head in a white bun, now tumbled over her
shoulders in ebony splendor. "Come to me, my child," said Lady
Wilira, smiling graciously.
Dove
gasped as she took her mother's hands and knelt in front of her. "Mother,
your power...!" she began.
"Is
about to be replentished by the presence of a newcomer," her mother
finished.
"A
newcomer? Who?"
"Daina."
"Mo-ther!
You just finished losing to her because you had no power and she had none to
give you; you told me so yourself!"
"No,
not the one we've dealt with in the past. An imposter who has no idea what
she's gotten herself into." said Lady Wilira.
"An
imposter," said Dove, the implications dawning on her. "That explains
why she acted so strangely before. Oh, Mother, she'll have plenty of
power!" Dove wriggled with pleasure at the idea as her mother spoke.
"I'll
have to take Christine and Naomi to be ready for her when she comes, which
shouldn't be too long, since Christine is here and this imposter obviously
feels some duty to her. I want you, however, to stay away for a while. Your
mortal sympathies won't take well to the draining of these three. Go visit your
father for a day or two."
"But,
Mother..."
"M'Lady!"
said Naomi, annoucing herself. She stood in the doorway with Christine, who
wrenched herself defiantly from her grasp. She tried not to be impressed by
Lady Wilira's youthful change, but it had never been something she'd gotten
used to. Besides, thought Naomi, anytime she starts lookin' that
young, she's found a new victim...
"Go
on, now," whispered Lady Wilira to Dove. Dove rose and left somewhat
reluctantly as her mother turned to Christine and Naomi.
"My
sister isn't gonna let you keep me here forever, y'know," snapped
Christine. "She'll kick your butt just like always."
"Shut
up, runt," growled Naomi, recovering enough from her shock to slap
Christine in the back of the head. "What should I do with her,
m'lady?"
"She'll
be staying with me," replied Lady Wilira.
Naomi
blinked, then licked her lips. She knew anyone staying with Lady Wilira too
long never left. She alomst felt sorry for the kid, but her own danger sense
was doing its best to get her attention. This was as good a time as any for a
nice quiet drop off the face of the universe. "Then I guess I'll just, uh,
go clean out the dungeon." she said, backing out.
"No,"
said Lady Wilira, "you can stay, too." She stood up and Naomi took it
as a hint and a half. She bolted for the doors, which immediately swung shut in
her face. Naomi didn't even pause. She dove for the doors, assuming fairy form
as she did, and darted through the minute space between them.
She
was still racing down the hall in flight when she ran into Lady Wilira standing
in her path. She had been looking backward, but turned just in time to hit the
folds of the woman's toga. Dazed by the impact and Wilira's blinding aura, she
stopped in midair and fell into Wilira's hand.
She
looked into her face and knew she was facing a deity.
Naomi
wanted to move, but as she looked at the familiar face of the goddess, she
suddenly couldn't imagine going anywhere.
In
fact, she couldn't imagine getting out of this mess at all.