Enroute to the subway tunnel where the urban explorers found me awhile ago, we met up with Psychic Strike. She had her hand outstretched, holding a pair of zombies about ten feet off the ground. She glanced back at us with an all-too-serious stare, letting gravity do its work.

“Man am I glad to see you chica! What in the name of the Holy Mother is going on?! Oh, hi there.” She glanced toward Silver Sentinel with a brief smile, returning her attention to me.

“We’re not sure. Sil says they just appeared out of nowhere. I think Raven Wing’s involved. Volcaness is meeting us outside Raven’s lair.”

---

Author's Note:
I was going to put off posting this one a bit longer to help draw out my posting habits a little (and not clog up the front page so much :-)), but given that when I wrote the original, I was in a very bad place mentally, and I've been going through a lot this week, I decided to go ahead and post it.

~Zoe

---

A full month had passed since I last saw Raven Wing. Banshee ordered me, both as a mother and as a veteran hero, to take a break for awhile. In effect, she grounded me for interfering with the ‘plan’ by warning Raven, even though she’d already figured out our trap and had trapped me instead, in a manner of speaking.

Halloween would be upon us soon, and since I couldn’t attend the Mayor’s annual ball as Aria Blade as I'd been dreaming since June, I’d be free to go to a party as myself. The irony of that one never really stopped stinging. I found myself sinking deeper and deeper into depression of late the more I thought about Raven Wing. Nothing made sense. Why did she kiss me? Why did I warn her? What’s wrong with me? Is this because of the magic that twisted my body?

I wasn’t always the beautiful bombshell of a teen-aged superhero known as Aria Blade. Once upon a time I was just plain Robert, the first male born in a long, long line of females dating back a thousand years, when the first Banshee wailed in grief at the loss of her beloved.

Legends say her cries were so mournful and so loud that a spirit took pity and gave her the power to avenge her murdered lover, but at a large cost. The women of my family aren’t quite ‘alive’, but not exactly dead. Some believe we are for whom the Celtic legends of wailing spirits speak, but Mother says the Banshee of each generation take our name from those legends, so who knows.

As for myself, my entire life I dreamed of being the next Banshee in the long line. Traditionally the bearer of the title would train her daughter from a very young age, and then on her 21st birthday she would take up the mantle of the new Banshee, except that I didn’t actually get my powers until a few months ago.

As I sat on a park bench, staring off into space, Raven’s voice, soft and distant, reached out to me. It was not the Raven Wing with which I had done battle so many times, nor even the calm and confident girl that kissed me a month ago. No, this was the desperate and fearful cry for me to stay, not to abandon her that I heard in her tone.

“Aria … Help!” the voice cried in a fade, as though the entire cosmos stood between us.

“Raven?” I responded as I sat up and looked around. I could see no one else nearby, nor even a hint of shadows flickering. The longer I listened, the more I became acutely aware of a sound, at first like a whisper, but growing steadily to an intense, terrified roar. I turned in time to see the source, even as the sky turned as red as blood.

Hundreds of what I can only describe as walking corpses clamored through the nearby streets, chasing innocent civilians, even as our city’s heroes fought desperately to push them back.

“You, girl!” a distinctly female voice shouted. I knew that voice. I turned in time to come face to silver power-armored chest, with a human-sized blonde hair-topped head poking out. I’d have known that reflective visor anywhere: Silver Sentinel! I didn’t even know she had returned to the city. Sil and my mother were practically sisters growing up, but Sil took a job across the Atlantic, so I hardly ever saw her.

“Aunt Sil! What’s going on?!”

“’Aunt’ Sil?” she asked, confused, as she stared. Did Mom not tell her about my little magical ‘mishap’? She pointed her gauntleted glove at an encroaching wave of zombies, sending a blast of blue energy jolting the lot of them off into the distance, and vaporizing two in the process. “Come on, this is no place for civilians! Grab onto me and don’t let go!”

Sure, I could fly, but Mother would kill me if I broke rule number one — never, ever reveal your secret identity in public, ‘even during a zombie apocalypse’. Yes, that really was a special clause. I reluctantly wrapped my arms around her neck, and seconds later we left the ground behind courtesy of her jet-propelled boots. As she raced me toward the nearest barricaded checkpoint, she spoke candidly.

“For someone who’s just been plucked from the jaws of undeath by a flying tin can, you sure are taking this well. And more importantly, why’d you call me ‘Aunt Sil’? Only one person ever called me that, and you’re sure as Hera not him.” I blushed a little, shifting my gaze toward the distant ground below.

“… It’s me, Aunt Sil — Robert. Well, Robin slash Aria Blade now. It’s a long story.”

“… Robert?!” she exclaimed. She faltered which caused me to squeal just a little and let go of her. I managed to catch myself, floating mid-air for only a second before grabbing onto her again. It’s not as though anyone down below would have noticed a flying civilian with the waves of undead crawling all over the city but still.

“Yeah. Long story short, I tampered with powers beyond my comprehension and accidentally turned myself into Banshee’s daughter and successor. I’m ‘grounded’ right now, but under the circumstances I think I can be forgiven if I take up my armor again. Can you drop me off at home?”

With an abrupt course-change, she nodded. As she raced me to my house, I explained the abridged version of what’s been happening since June, for now leaving out the part about botching the attempt to capture Raven. In return she explained the situation with the zombies. Unfortunately no one knew exactly where they were coming from, or for that matter, why. The more I thought about it, the more I started to wonder. This started not long after Raven Wing contacted me. Could there be a connection?

“I think I might know who’s responsible,” I offered uneasily even as I changed into my battle armor. The new pieces had been commissioned and finished for a few weeks now, molded and sculpted to fit snugly to my body, but rigid enough to offer better protection. I also received a hand-made all-natural leather mask from, of all people, Volcaness, although she did give me a hard time about the latex allergy.

“There are innocent people dying out there. If you know who’s responsible, then tell me so we can put a stop to it!” Aunt Sil insisted.

“Well I’m not sure exactly, but I heard Raven Wing calling out to me just before this whole thing started. Either she’s done something … Or she’s in very serious danger. Either way, we have to go to her lair.”

I paused as I tied my mask into place, expertly pinning down my ‘Aria Blade’ wig. Mother warned me that my black hair would fade to silver with time, just like hers, but until the day I could take up the Banshee title, and until I had full control of my powers, I had to play by her rules, including keeping my mundane identity quiet like this.

“It’s the only lead we have,” she answered.

Enroute to the subway tunnel where the urban explorers found me awhile ago, we met up with Psychic Strike. She had her hand outstretched, holding a pair of zombies about ten feet off the ground. She glanced back at us with an all-too-serious stare, letting gravity do its work.

“Man am I glad to see you chica! What in the name of the Holy Mother is going on?! Oh, hi there.” She glanced toward Silver Sentinel with a brief smile, returning her attention to me.

“We’re not sure. Sil says they just appeared out of nowhere. I think Raven Wing’s involved. Volcaness is meeting us outside Raven’s lair.”

“What makes you think Raven’s involved? She’s been silent ever since she kissed you.” I shot her a glare that could have cut diamonds at that comment, causing her to bite her bottom lip even as Sil presumably glared at me. I say presumably because it’s kind of hard to tell with that bulky visor of hers. “… Sorry.”

“We can talk about that later,” Sil responded. “For the moment, Aria believes Raven Wing is either involved, or in trouble, because she called out to her.”

“Yeah. It was like she was in pain or scared, or something. It was like when you first psy-bombed her awhile ago, when she cried and begged me not to abandon her.”

“It could be a trap,” Psychic Strike offered with unease as we landed outside the tunnel. A brilliant flash of light shot past us, exploding ahead amid a united scream of now-flaming undead. The creatures flailed about as they collapsed to the ground, writhing and clawing at the ground, and at one another.

“That’s why I’m here,” Volcaness, dressed in her full, metallic red body armor, stated flatly as she moved past us with determination. Unlike the three of us, Volcaness couldn’t fly, either by natural ability or technology, but her tricked-out titanium-frame motorcycle got the job done just fine.

After another fiery explosion she turned back to us with a grin, tucking a lit cigarette between her lips. “I love killing zombies. I can go all out and nobody gets prissy about ‘abuse of power’.” She giggled gleefully. I couldn’t decide if it was her comment, or her giggle, that unnerved me more. One thing was for sure, when Volcaness laughed you did NOT want to be in her line of fire, so to speak.

“Just remember we’re not here to kill Raven unless she attacks us,” I added, trying to sound authoritative.

“Yeah, yeah, no roasting the brat’s girlfriend. Got it. Can we go now?” she answered dryly.

Psychic Strike peered further into the subway tunnel, narrowing her gaze. “How are we gonna find her anyway? I sure am not going fishing around for her thoughts.”

“Actually, Psy, that’s exactly what I need you to do. Look, I know what you saw the last time shook you up, but if this isn’t a trap, and if she’s genuinely in trouble, you’re the only one who can reliably reach out to her. Here,” I removed my glove, offering her my hand. “Draw on my strength if you need to, but find her, please!”

She stared reluctantly at me for what felt like an eternity, though only a few seconds passed before she sighed and accepted my hand. I braced myself as, like a psychic vampire she drew upon a touch of my own life force in order to bolster herself against whatever lay beyond. She brought her free hand to her temple as she shut her eyes.

“Aria!” Raven’s voice called out to me more clearly and distinctly. It hadn’t lost its terrified edge though.

“Raven! Where are you? What’s going on?”

“Aria! Please help me! I screwed up and now I’m in trouble! I’ll light the path for you, but please hur–“

“Ungh!” Psychic Strike shrieked as she abruptly let go of my hand, collapsing backwards. Volcaness swooped closer to catch her. She glared at me.

“That’s it. I’m goin’ in blazing and ain’t nobody gonna stop me!”

“Wait!” I shouted back. “Raven contacted me through Psychic Strike. I think she’s in serious trouble. If we can help her, she might be able to help us put a stop to this!”

Psychic Strike, blinking a couple of times, finally nodded, staggering back to her feet. “She’s right. That … wasn’t Raven that assaulted me and severed our telepathic bond. It was something else. Something darker. It was like touching the face of evil itself.” She shuddered violently, quickly shaking her head. “Something terrible is waiting for us. You guys go on ahead. I have to get something. Don’t worry, I’ll catch up!”

As Psychic Strike’s form faded from sight, I led the other two down the tunnel to the off-shoot point where I recalled emerging the last time. As promised, Raven’s shadows parted, giving us a distinct path to follow. Unlike last time, they didn’t recede behind us either. Barely a hundred yards into the tunnel, the familiar groan of undead, and an unfamiliar shriek caught our attention.

As if on cue, a trio of zombies, and something else, larger and covered in uneven, cracked red scales rushed us. These zombies though, seemed different. Unlike the mindless rotting corpses we faced outside, these creatures seemed unnaturally more powerful, larger and faster.

Volcaness directed a narrow, controlled line of fire at the demon creature, and Silver Sentinel sent a quick, firm blast of energy at the first zombie. Both creatures shrugged off the blasts as though they were in a water gun fight! I did the only thing I could think of, and began to sing.

I still had difficulty directing my sonic blasts in tight corridors like this. One false note, so to speak, could reverberate out of control, so I instead diverted my efforts to setting up a resonant frequency reverberation in an attempt to bolster and shield us.

The red creature, realizing what I was attempting to do, rushed forward. I lost my focus and shrieked as a mighty obsidian claw fell mere inches from my face, stopped only by Silver Sentinel’s power gauntlet. She gripped its hand tightly, coursing directed energy through her gauntlet and causing the creature to howl in pain, even as Volcaness then blasted it point-blank in the face.

I stumbled backwards, crawling along the floor to get behind my protectors. I had no choice but to start attacking. I contorted my lips as Mother had taught me, and uttered an ear-shattering screech. The nearest super-zombie groaned, stumbling and collapsing.

The creature broke free of Sil’s grasp and fled, but we still had two more hulking, angry undead to dispatch. Now free to set up my shield, I rose to my knees and began to sing again. Sil fired her rocket boots, propelling her forward, her gauntleted fists punching right through the chest of the second zombie.

Meanwhile Volcaness, not to be outdone by my adopted aunt, barreled into the third, grabbing the creature in a bear hug. Seconds later, both she and it were one gigantic ball of flames. The creature howled and clawed at her, but she somehow managed to avoid the worst of its strikes as she reduced it to a pile of ash.

We were left only with silence. Volcaness ripped off her crimson, mirrored sunglasses and turned to stare at us. “Okay, I’ve seen a lot of weird crap in my time, but I’ve never seen ANYTHING like that. What the Hell was that thing?!”

“I don’t know. It might have been the creature that severed the telepathic link,” I offered, uncertain, as I pressed forward.

Sil added as she followed, “We’ll have to keep an eye out for it. It knows we’re here, and it knows we’re not afraid of it, which means it’s probably going to try and sneak up on us once the odds are in its favor again.”

The waves of undead seemed almost endless, as we fought our way further into Raven Wing’s lair, and I continued to wonder, the closer we came, if perhaps this really was all one huge, elaborate trap. The shadow creature turned out to be just an illusion to throw us off while she captured me, but maybe she found a way to create or summon an endless supply of walking dead to soften us up?

But then, I heard it. A sound so soft it barely registered: a distant cry, but unlike before, this seemed real, not a telepathic projection. As the sound grew more distinct and clear, I put a direction and tangible source to the sound, like the sobbing of a little girl.

Volcaness heard it too, it seemed, as she stopped in her tracks to look around. A pair of bloody shoe-prints, about the size a small child’s Mary Jane shoes might leave, appeared in front of us on the stonework floor. The shadows receded completely, and footfalls followed new footsteps, despite no readily apparent, visible source.

Click … Click … Click. Slowly, the footfalls and their bloody footprints moved forward as the disembodied voice sobbed. The other two warily stayed back and watched, but I followed the footsteps. They turned, and disappeared into the wall.

I stopped where they had vanished, and pressed my hands against the wall, searching for some kind of loose brick or switch that might activate a secret door or panel. With no success, I stepped back, accidentally planting my foot on one of the bloody footprints. A metallic click resounded, so I put my other foot on the other print in the ‘set’. The wall slid to the side.

The chamber beyond looked like something only a madman could devise. A stone slab in one corner with bloodied straps, hooks hanging from the ceiling in another area, and in one corner, a translucent little girl sat sobbing. She couldn’t have been more than five or six. She stopped sobbing as we entered, but stared at us as though we were the ghosts.

“Stay away!” she shrieked, covering her little, ghostly face. “He’s coming!”

“Who’s coming, sweetie?” I cooed, trying to reassure this little spirit. Raven answered, as she stepped from the shadows.

“My father.” She knelt beside the little girl, and wrapped her arms around her as though she were actual flesh and blood. The child faded into Raven’s form, and she stood again, turning to approach us. “I’m sorry Aria. I’m so sorry. Please, please help me put this right!”

I stepped back. “Raven, what’s going on? And what is this place?”

She looked around with a forlorn sadness in her eyes, and then returned her gaze to me. “Do you really want me to answer that question? Please, just help me. I’m responsible for the zombies, but for Goddess’ sake, I’m trying to set it right. This isn’t how it was supposed to happen!”

She had a sincerity in her voice that tugged at me, begging me to give her another chance. I nodded. “Alright, I’ll help you, but if you try anything, Volcaness will roast you, understood?”

She nodded solemnly, without hesitation. “This way!” she insisted, reaching for my hand. A shiver ran right down my spine as she clutched it, tugging me along, even as the other two followed behind us.

“My father was a terrible man, Aria. You must understand this above all. That’s why I did what I did to him. I made him suffer like he made me suffer, and then I turned my rage on the rest of the world.”

She led us down a long hallway to another chamber, where shards of red crystal lay scattered across the chamber. A large chunk of it sat on its side at the center, amid arcane runes and circles drawn into the floor. What was this place?

“We have to lure him back here, so I can put him back in,” she explained, pointing to the crystal. “The demon who taught me to trap him didn’t tell me what he would become. I had no way of knowing, of seeing the true metamorphosis until it was too late.”

“Ah, but it is too late…” a deep, raspy voice hissed from beyond the shadows. Sheer, abject terror filled Raven Wing’s eyes as she turned toward the source. The red creature we had fought earlier stepped out. Though still nursing its battlescars from earlier, it smiled cruelly at her. “You will accept your destiny, my daughter. You will become like me. Sacrifice these fools and accept true power!”

“Never!” she shrieked, sending a blast of eldritch shadow energy at him. He batted it aside with a cruel laugh.

“Then I shall transform HER instead! Useless whelp. Remember the fun we had in our ‘special place’?” He grinned a cruel, demonic smirk as the tears rolled down her cheeks. The shadows seemed to ebb and flow like an intelligent liquid as they drew from throughout the labyrinth, coalescing and enveloping her.

“Yes, YES!” the creature cackled. I watched helplessly as the torrent of shadows began to swirl like a dark, mystical storm around her. Not sure what else I could do, I grabbed her hand, and the rest of the world seemed to fall away from us. Blackness surrounded me, and I found myself not holding the hand of Raven Wing, but of a little girl, about five or six. I slowly looked around at the emptiness that surrounded us, and then turned my attention to her.

“What … where are we?”

The little girl spoke eloquently and plainly, despite her child-like voice. “This is Raven’s soul. Shattered, broken, polluted as it is. This is what he has done to her.”

“How did I get here? What’s going on?” I insisted. I had no desire to be in Raven’s mind, let alone her soul!

The girl smiled forlornly. “When you touched her hand, I pulled you here. Had I not, you would have died immediately. What was it you sought to do, exactly? One does not simply reach into the void without purpose, or without price.”

“I-I thought maybe I could anchor her, remind her that she’s still human, that I … that I want to help her,” I babbled. I didn’t know what I was thinking, myself. I just couldn’t stand idly and watch her destroy herself!

Either the little girl floated upwards, or I sank, as I found myself staring into her precious blue-gray eyes. “You love her, but can you care for her, and protect her? Can you guide her from darkness?”

“I … I don’t know. But I want to help.”

“The path to destruction is paved with good intentions. We shall see what happens.”

“Who are you?”

She grinned. “Ah, now that would be telling. Right now, I am her inner child, her innocence lost. What I become, now that is up to her, and to you.”

The world around me blurred and faded back into view. I suddenly found myself clutched by the throat by the red creature, cackling maniacally in my ear. I struggled in vain against his clawed hand, his firm grip choking the life out of me. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t do anything.

Just as I began to feel my life fading, I heard Psychic Strike’s voice shouting from one side. “I strike you back to the void from which you came, creature of shadow! BE GONE from this place!”

Gravity taking its cue, I found myself unceremoniously landing on the ground even as bright light filled the room. The creature shrieked, and I managed to roll onto my side just long enough to see Psy holding the source of the light out defiantly in front of her, but I couldn’t make out what it was, exactly. Raven appeared next to me and knelt, but I could barely make out her voice.

“A…a? Aria sp…k t.. me… …y som…ing…” She looked frightened as she turned her gaze presumably towards the others, and I suddenly felt very, very tired.

The next thing I remembered, I awoke in what I could only assume was the infirmary of our new, permanent headquarters. After much debate and discussion on the subject, we had decided to join forces as a more permanent team since, despite our differences, we did work well together.

I tilted my head from one side to the other, searching for some sign or other of human contact. A woman in her twenties with long, blonde hair, dressed in pink nurse’s scrubs smiled warmly as she approached my bed.

“Hey there,” she offered cheerily. “I didn’t think you’d be awake so soon. How do you feel?”

I groaned. “Throat hurts.” She poured a fresh glass of iced water, tilting the bendy straw toward me as she offered it. I thirstily gulped down the entire glass, causing her to giggle.

“Careful now. Do you remember anything?”

“I remember,” I paused, frowning at her. “Where’s Raven?”

“Your friend is being interrogated, but don’t worry. Silver Sentinel personally told me to tell you that she’ll vouch for her, but for everyone’s safety, they’re keeping her in a power nullification chamber until all this is sorted out.”

“Can I see her?” I asked, practically begging. I felt my cheeks burn as I realized how insistent I sounded.

“I’m not sure that’s such a-” she began, but Mother’s voice interrupted her.

“Aria, you’re finally awake!” She rushed to my side. My apparent nurse smiled respectfully.

“I was just about to call you, ma’am. I’ll just give you two a minute alone.”

Mother glanced at the nurse, nodding. “Go find Volcaness. Ask her to escort ‘the prisoner’ up here.”

“But-” she started to protest, and then sighed. “Yes ma’am.” She turned to disappear off into heaven knows where, while Psychic Strike, now in casual civilian clothing slowly approached in her place.

“I was so worried about you,” Mother spoke softly as she squeezed me. “What happened to you? The others said you had a glazed look in your eyes, and then that monster grabbed you.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I laughed weakly. “But I’m okay. Mom, please don’t hate Raven.”

“I don’t ‘hate’ anyone, dear. Mistrust? Very much so. Maria,” she turned around, jumping slightly at seeing the psychic had already entered. “Ah, yes, I want you to observe. We’ll see how sincere Ms. Raven is when she thinks she’s alone.”

“Yes ma’am,” Maria offered me a wry, apologetic smile as she approached the far corner and faded from view. After a few minutes, Volcaness appeared, toting Raven along by a pair of arcane-etched handcuffs. Mother smiled approvingly, but shook her head.

“Those won’t be necessary. Let her go, and then give them a moment. I trust my daughter to behave herself.” She gave me a brief warning glance, which I assumed to mean not to warn Raven about Maria’s presence, and stepped out. Volcaness simply rolled her shoulders, removing the arcane manacles. She looked Raven Wing in the eye and smiled that dark, creepy ‘I want to roast someone’ smile of hers. She turned to follow mother, closing the door behind her.

Raven rubbed her wrists as she hesitantly approached my bed. She sat on the edge next to me, staring at me in silence. I smiled weakly at her, waiting for her to say something, and finally she sighed.

“Things got weird, didn’t they?”

“I’d call a zombie invasion and your demon father trying to kill me weird, yeah.” I managed a quiet laugh, but she frowned.

“You know what I mean. You saw ‘her’. Nobody ever sees her. I didn’t even know she’d shown you that terrible chamber until she told me so herself. You-” Tears rolled down her cheek as she turned away from me. “You weren’t supposed to see that terrible place. No one was. Never again.” She turned back to me sharply and scowled. “And why did you grab my hand like that? You could’ve been killed!”

“’She’ saved me,” I offered softly. “She told me she took me into your soul.”

“She WHAT?!” She raised her voice as she stood, then quickly looked around to be sure she didn’t just alert half the building’s security to descend on her, sitting down again.

“Well that changes things,” she grumbled.

“Raven, listen…” She glanced back at me, tucking a few stray bangs behind her ear. I reached for her hand, which she initially pulled back, but then reached back in return. I squeezed it lightly, continuing. “You’re right. Things got weird. We can’t go back to being Aria and Raven, mortal enemies constantly at each others’ throats: not anymore. I’ve seen too much, and you and I both know we don’t want to fight each other anymore.”

“So what happens now?” she asked uneasily.

“That’s up to you. What exactly were you trying to do down there in the first place?”

She frowned. “I told you before that this was my fault, but that I was trying to fix it, right? Well,” she paused briefly, turning her gaze toward the floor. “The shadow demon that bestowed my powers on me laid a trap for me, apparently. I … was trying to be like you. I wanted to set things right and release my father from that prison, to let him face real justice, you know, court system and all that crap.”

As she stood, she paced away from me, but turned back again with a renewed sadness in her expression. “But as you saw, that prison warped him, turning him into some kind of terrible monster. If you hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve ended up just like him. That’s what he wanted all along, but I would have done it if it meant protecting you,” she admitted softly.

After a moment, she sighed, turning away again. “What am I even doing here? I’m a villain; a ‘monster’. I can never make up for all the people I’ve hurt.”

“Is it true you even killed someone?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, turning and stepping closer. She sat down again, taking my hand in hers as she looked down at me. “But that was an accident. I had only just gotten my powers. Someone tried to mug me, and I freaked out. I was an abused kid who’d just been given more power than any mortal’s supposed to have.” She seemed remorseful for what had happened. I sat up a little.

“C’mere.”

“What?” She stared back at me. I smiled, motioning for her to move closer. She finally leaned close enough for me to hug her. I wrapped my arms around her, even kissing her forehead softly. I needed her to know, without question, that I wouldn’t judge her, and this was the only way I could think to do that.

“I can’t change the past, but you and I both know you’re not the insane villain you used to be,” I insisted.

She managed a weak smile as she nodded. “You asked me once before about the night your psychic friend hit me with her backlash wave. The little girl you met was ‘born’ that night, as nearly as I can tell. That’s when she first appeared, and I first felt … ‘normal’, if you can call this normal,” she added, shaking her head slowly.

“It’s like she separated from me. I found myself thinking clearly for the first time in years. She’s still a part of me, yet she carries the bulk of my pain. I can’t explain how or why it works; I just know it does, and it allows me to talk to you like this.”

Her voice grew more tense, insistent, and even afraid. “But I’m afraid for you. I’m afraid for both of us. She needs me right now because if I lose her, then I lose myself. I lose this … person I want to be. I’m sorry Aria.”

She leaned over my bed, and kissed me, and for an instant the world melted away, with only us, but an instant later, she was gone. Maria slowly faded into view, approaching my bed. She squeezed my hand, and I smiled a little.

“It’s a start,” I offered.

“Yeah. Banshee’s not gonna believe this.”

I had to laugh. “We say that a lot lately.”