Beth’s eyes fluttered open and a world of pain blossomed across her mind like a scarlet flower blooming across her vision – her mind was cluttered enough. Fragmented images of what she had witnessed flashed through her mind like the scattered fragments from a dream blowing around in the storm of pain impossible to grasp onto. To intertwine consciousness in such a manner and have it torn asunder so abruptly had more than an effect on her body – Beth was struggling to realign her mind with the [i]now[/i]. Flashes of her life played before her eyes – a young girl of ten, shaking hands covered in blood, a young woman and the feel of a lover’s lips, a new immigrant in a strange land – a series of bad decisions and a raven haired succubus standing before her, fear filling her body –

Then she felt it. Emmaline’s mind against hers, a respectable boundary kept so as not to trigger Beth’s mental defences. The other Witch had done more than she could possibly have known, she had given her a point in the series of experiences that made up Beth Buchanan’s life to return to. Reality once more came into focus. Blearily she sent her own mental link towards the gently probing mind of Emma, establishing a two way connection with the other. “The casters’ connection was broken … old magic …. Shamanism” she mumbled, still trying to regain focus as she sent a stream of memory towards the German witch, containing the events that had transpired when she had joined with the anchor stone – and, she feared, probably some of her peripheral memories from before. “The Guardian is confused,” She continued, feeling normality returning, her eyes flickered to the young girl in front of her, “It’s found a new master … or mistress I should say, if she can manage it.”

She shook her head, she could process the information gathered later, when Morgan’s promised breakfast finally found its way into her stomach. She attempted to stand up, now that her mind and body had finally began working together again.

Yep, this was going to hurt in the morning. Each movement sent a fresh flurry of pain across her body, her back was sticky with blood and her shoulder burned like whore’s rash, to borrow an expression from her father. She looked down, her legs had been lacerated – whether by falling glass or her enemies’ intent it was difficult to remember, “No ….” She managed to say, her throat dry, “I got these jeans on sale!”

Beth’s nostrils flared – they had summoned a devastating nature spirit in the middle of Seattle, desecrated the traditions and legacy of her culture in order to do so. But this …. this was unforgivable. This was [i]affordable fashion.[/i]

“Mandy,” She said weakly, trying to get to her feet and stumbling somewhat until she fell back on her knees, resting her hand on the ground. “Remember that self-confidence seminar from Youtube I tagged you in? Well I’m aware that this is something of a personal hurdle for you to jump at some point in your life, but Guardians don’t really go for suggestions, or hints …. Or suggestive comments. It needs commanded, the bond with its caster is broken and it’s confused. Give it a purpose, give it an order!”

Mandy flinched, wishing Beth would really stop this train of conversation—and then quickly redirected the thought, aware that the spirit that was currently under her influence might take it the wrong way.

At least it was still under her influence, despite its growing desire to smite Rob and Jacob. “Stop!” she called, this time out loud—still more plea than order, but an instruction nonetheless. Then, to her two well-intentioned protectors: “And [i]stop throwing[/i] things at it!”

She whipped her attention back to the guardian, afraid that any moment she looked away might be the moment it slipped her hold. But the connection between them remained steady—chaotic, because the creature was confused and, as Beth said, accustomed to orders, but still. Steady. Her hands still shook, but now that the connection was made, her head no longer hurt.

For the moment, the creature was hers.

“This isn’t how you do it,” she said quietly. The spirit wouldn’t care, not really; it didn’t think in the way people did. Mandy knew that, but the magic and adrenaline had stirred up old memories, and right now, the guardian was a captive audience. Her voice was soft, echoing an older conversation as she said, “This isn’t how you save the world.”

Silently, she told it, [i]We aren’t going to hurt you. [b]Please[/b] don’t hurt us.[/i]

To Beth, she admitted, “I don’t know what to do. It doesn’t belong here, but that’s not its fault. Maybe we could just give it better instructions and let it stay.” [i]Because I really don’t know how we would get it anywhere else.[/i]

And killing it was out of the question.

Beth’s mind had rapidly recovered – she was now almost fully aware of the world and her place, time and location within it. She suppressed the urge to groan – Mandy sounded apologetic even when she was giving an order. [i]Emma,[/i] Beth sent forward, more confident about using the mental link now her mind was in better order, [i]Don’t suppose you could use that magic of yours to increase our odds that this will work, I think we’ll need the help …[/i] She inquired as she sent a stream of thought to the German witch detailing her plan for the Guardian Spirit.

Beth fished about her bag – there was considerable debate among those in PHI what exactly was in Beth’s bag. It occasionally gave off strange smells, emitted rattling sounds and once or twice seemed to move a few inches on its own accord. Beth chucked a few things on the ground as she rummaged; a sealed sandwich bag of dried herbs, a small flask, a bottle of horribly murky contents and, as this was also a woman’s handbag, a few packets of chewing gum, some sanitary products and half a granola bar. Eventually she found what she was looking for – a small clay jar, made from the mud of a sacred spring, useful in the containment of numerous spirits and occult nasties.

She forced herself to her feet, her head woozy as she made a few steps towards Mandy before taking the knife in her hands a gently cutting the other girl’s arm, wetting the rim of the jar with a few drops of the girl’s blood. 

“Sorry,” Beth murmured, placing it on the ground, “But I think we can send its essence back to its dormant state.” Beth placed her cut hand over the incision she had made on Mandy’s arm, allowing her power to flow into the other girl’s body.

“Repeat after me,” She said – it was technically unnecessary for a spell at this point, yet she doubted Mandy’s force of will would actually overcome the Guardian’s desire to remain and protect. The words would focus Mandy’s willpower and a small amount of magic would bolster the chances of pulling this off.

[i]“The Shaman binds you to her command,
Three times thanks you for vigil blessed,
Yet unwind your roots, vacate this land,
Your duty’s done, return to dormant rest!”[/i]

Mandy flinched a second time.

She could sense Beth’s impatience, and she knew the other woman felt it with her often. On another day, it would stir the girl’s insecurities; tonight, it made her irritable, an unfamiliar feeling to have so close to the surface. 

The blood now trickling down her arm, slick and sticky to match the stone in her hands, probably did not help. 

Beth’s spell was taking over almost before she was ready for it, and a small part of Mandy wanted to rebel—knew that if she didn’t cooperate, the spirit would still be tied to her will. But Mandy’s brain was used to multitasking, to thinking about many things at once, and another part of her remembered what she’d read about guardians and their dismissal. Still another part wondered how much of a kindness it would be, to leave the creature somewhere it did not belong. Even if it did not want to go, it might be better off.

She repeated the spell.

The words were clumsy on her tongue—unnecessarily formal, probably, when it would obey any instruction she gave it, regardless of syntax. But she said them, and beneath the ones she said out loud ran of current of other things she wanted to say:[i] it's okay and thank you and I’m sorry.[/i]

And then, at the end of Beth’s pretty quatrain, she murmured, “Sleep well.”