Chapter #24No Harm Done by: imaj   A red mist descends on you. Your hands ball into fists as you stand up. Then you quite calmly take three steps over to Hal and slug him across the jaw with all the might you can muster. Admittedly that’s not much in your Siobhan identity, but you take no little pleasure as the blow staggers Hal and he stumbles awkwardly backward.
“Bloody hell,” says Hal shrilly. “What was that for?
“You knew about this,” you seethe. “Why didn’t you warn us?
“Well…” begins Hal. “I mean, you managed to catch her, didn’t you? No harm done.”
“No harm done,” you repeat, the rage building up inside you. “No harm done? Look at what happened here,” you shout angrily, gesturing at the wreckage of the living room around you. “She threatened to shoot Bea,” you add grabbing Hal by the greasy collar of his tee.
Then suddenly you deflate.
“Stars,” you moan. “Bea. Is she ok?” You look past Hal and Rosalie into the hall where you left her.
“Hal,” says Rosalie softly. “Take a walk round the block while I talk to Siobhan, ok.”
The English Stellae blinks a couple of time, taking a while to realise what’s been said. He raises his finger, as if about to argue, but Rosalie frowns slightly. With his head downcast, Hal trudges out the room.
“Where’s Bea,” you say, a tremor of panic edging into your voice.
“It’s ok,” says Rosalie soothingly. She places one arm round your shoulder and guides you out of the room. “She’s in the garden.” You follow Rosalie outside, where Charlene and Bea are standing hand in hand on the path.
You rush over to Bea, hugging her tightly. “Siobhan,” she moans, sounding a little embarrassed. Rosalie picks up Charlene and hoists her up to chest height. The toddler wraps her arms around Rosalie and buries her head in Rosalie’s shoulder
Your cheeks flush red as you release Bea. “When she threatened you…” you tail off, running a hand through Bea’s hair, trying to tidy it. “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, you know that?”
Though she nods, Bea’s eye fix themselves on the floor. You worry what’s going through her head. It isn’t the first time your work as a Stellae has dragged in Bea, but it’s the first time since Rosalie and Joe’s wedding. The terror stricken look on Bea’s face as the impostor pressed a gun against her head is going to haunt your dreams for a long time you fear.
“Why didn’t Hal warn us,” you ask Rosalie, your mood shifting right back to anger. “He sounded like he knew this woman was coming for us.”
“For you Siobhan, yes,” answers Rosalie. “Hal knew you and Joe would be able to handle her. He thought it was better for her to come at you when you were with Joe rather than later when you were on your own. Lure her into the open, you know how he is.”
Was Hal using you as bait? Your anger boils higher. “Only too well,” you reply through gritted teeth.
“We’ll talk about it later,” says Rosalie soothingly. “Let’s get back inside.” As you pass through the front door, Rosalie sets Charlene to the ground and turns to Bea. “Can you take Charlene up to her room for me Bea,” she pleads. “And play with her while I talk to Siobhan and your uncle Joe.”
“Uh.. yes…” answers Bea hesitantly. She leads Charlene up the stairs with her hands.
Joe is kneeling over the unconscious impostor when you return to the living room. He stands up as you enter, turning round to face you and Rosalie. “On a hunch I got this out,” he tells you, waving a small gold disc in his hand. You recognise it instantly as an artefact for detecting the specially charged essentia that the Stellae posses. “You saw how she used that gun. Almost supernaturally well. Check that,” he says sheepishly. “Actually supernaturally well.” He taps the gold disc.
“You have got to be kidding me,” you sigh. You shake your head. “Actually, why not,” you shrug. “It makes just as much sense as anything else.”
“Can you do a horoscope, “ Rosalie asks Joe.
“When she wakes up,” says Joe, looking at you.
“An hour,” you tell him. “I put her out for an hour.”
“That gives Frank time to get here,” Rosalie says. “We’ll hold a trail when she wakes up.”
You look down at the assassin, seeing her real face now that Joe has removed the mask completely. It’s odd, but now that you look at her, the assassin’s athletic build is nothing like Rosalie’s. It’s obvious even though she attempted to hide it beneath shapeless clothes like here sweater. Her pale complexion and white-blonde hair leaves you with an odd sensation of déjà vu.
*****
You fidget nervously in your chair, drumming on the wooden armrests impatiently. You didn’t even know this room existed, though given the odd topography of the house it doesn’t come as that much of a surprise to you. In truth, it barely seems part of the house. The rough stone walls seem to have been here much longer than the house itself. The ornate portal carved into the far wall leads nowhere. It only frames a section of smooth wall. You have the feeling that you know what it will be used for later though.
Rosalie sits on a plain wooden chair just in front of the portal. She surveys the room, her expression sad. At her side is Frank, standing stern and staring at a spot seemingly fixed above everybody’s head. The woman that tried to kill you kneels on the floor in the middle of the room. Joe is there too, quietly murmuring to her, making notes on his smartphone as she answers. He probably has an app for working out horoscopes on there.
Technically Joe isn’t part of the proceedings here. Like you – and Hal for that matter – he’s just an observer. Rosalie wanted the assassin’s horoscope resolved before she began though. Once Joe finishes he’ll take his place in the empty seat to your left.
“Malacandra and Sulva,” says Joe, rising to his feet. He says nothing further. What more could he add? Everyone here knows just how improbable the combination is, and just how odd it is to find yet another Sulva. Yet no one seems to want to voice their concerns. Rosalie merely gives a slight nod in reply and Joe walks over and takes position beside you.
Malacandra and Sulva. It makes perfect sense though. The ease with which the assassin used her gun. You’ve seen something similar with Miko and her katana, or Frank and his bow. You even saw it a few months ago in China with the Sages and their crossbows. It explains her imposture of Rosalie too. In the cold light of the cellar, it’s increasingly clear that the assassin looks nothing like Rosalie. She’s the wrong size, the wrong shape and no simple mask could ever hide that. No, it was Sulva that hid the imperfections of her disguise, just the same as it lets you vanish from people’s sight. The errors just became too unimportant to see.
An odd sense of pressure builds up in the room, making the air feel stifling. Though Frank hasn’t so much as batted an eyelid, the thickness in the air tells you he is pouring on his prodigies. Everybody in the room feels it: Joe wipes the sweat from his brow. Hal sinks in his chair with a pained expression on his face. The assassin is hit worst and looks as if she is about to collapse from fatigue. Rosalie though, she just grimaces a little. “Do you know why you are here,” says Rosalie softly. She wipes at the corner of her eye with one sleeve.
The assassin looks at Rosalie without saying anything for what seems like an age. “No,” she replies, looking down at the floor. “Not any more.”
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