June 1st, 1987

My employer, Wizard Hollis Ellister, had many things delivered to his house on order - like groceries - so that he and Elsie, his Elevated mouse familiar/housekeeper, wouldn’t have to go out to do the shopping. Groceries are a mundane purchase though, and a wizard - even a wizard-in-training like me - doesn’t ask someone else to do certain types of shopping for them. And while Hollis kept a more than sufficient supply of most magical reagents on hand in his own workshop, I had recently begun building my own stock of certain things.

Fortunately, Harrods had the best apothecary and alchemical supplies in all of Albion. And I loved Harrods.

“I found the Agrimony,” Athena said as she came down the aisle towards me, a wicker basket hooked in the crook of her elbow. “Dried whole, powdered, and as an oil infusion.” She made a face. “I wasn’t sure which would work best for the protective amulets you’re making, so I got all three.”

“We can use all three,” I said, putting a jar of Sandalwood powder into my own basket. “We’ll use them at different phases of the enchanting process, and it’ll increase the potency of the final enchantment.”

Artemis, lurking by my feet, leaned in and carefully sniffed a big stone jar on the bottom shelf. Then she made a face, turned her head, and sneezed.

I smiled. “I told you not to sniff those.”

<> She rubbed her nose with her paw and made a disgruntled noise in her throat.

I reached down and ruffled Artemis’s ears gently. “You know the saying about curiosity and cats.”

She made a distinctly dismissive ‘feh’ sound. <>

Athena laughed softly. “She’s probably right.”

I didn’t argue. They were both probably right.

“What’s next?” Athena asked, stretching up on her toes for a moment and bouncing a little. We’d started the morning sparring with police at the Scotland Yard Special Magical Response Unit training yard, and we were both feeling a bit sore for having done so. But it was good for us, so we kept right on doing it.

“Um…” I closed my eyes for a moment, referring to my mental list of components for the protective amulets. My memory is very precise, and very well organized, so the list came into focus quickly. “We need some White Ash and Aromatic Cedar chips for the brazier we’ll be using. They have the right properties of protection and blocking unwanted forces.”

<> Artemis noted. <>

I smiled. “That too. Come on. I think the wood chips are in the next aisle.”

Artemis rubbed against my leg as I started walking, then wound around Athena’s, apparently trying to trip her. This was a new game of hers…one which she found endlessly entertaining, and which was driving Athena to distraction. “Come on, Artemis, cut it out.”

I laughed…and promptly collided with someone as I rounded the corner at the end of the aisle. That’s what I get for not looking where I’m going. “I’m so sorry…”

I looked up. Black hair, cut in the same style as mine. Golden eyes, pointed ears, pale skin, dark clothes.

Brenna? What in the name of all that’s holy was she doing there?

“Brenna?”

“Alys?”

She sounded as surprised as I felt.

Athena yanked me back away from her and stepped between us. At the same time, Hecate - Brenna’s Elevated panther familiar - did the same to her. They growled at one another, baring fangs and claws.

At our feet, Artemis and Hathor - Brenna’s other panther familiar, purchased expressly to match Artemis - both crouched, hissing and snarling at one another, tails lashing in agitation.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a security guard take a step forward. I didn’t blame him for not approaching any further, we were probably a sight to see. But at the same time, we were in danger of becoming an exciting part of his day.

“Athena, Artemis, stop it!”

“Hecate, Hathor, stop it!”

Brenna and I blinked at one another. We’d spoken simultaneously, startling all four of our familiars into silence.

After a long and uncomfortable silence, Brenna lifted her hands, palms upwards. “We’re unarmed…just like you, we had to leave our weapons at the front door.”

Somehow, I doubted that they were completely unarmed. The guards were very good, but also very polite, and it was an accepted thing that spellcasters were never truly unarmed. Spells aside, I, for example, still had my cane, which I had prepared at great length to function as a wizard’s staff, in addition to having a smallsword hidden inside it.

I nodded slowly. “Pax?”

“I have no desire to run afoul of the guards,” Brenna said, the corners of her lips twitching into something that was almost a smile. “I like being able to shop at Harrods. They have the best apothecary in southern Albion.”

“They do,” I agreed. “Pax?” I asked again. It was a politely formal way of asking for a brief cessation of hostilities, not quite legally binding, but the next best thing, and under the Code Duello, the formal dueling code followed by Albion and most of the other countries in the region, breaking it was considered a forfeit. For what that was worth.

Brenna grimaced slightly, and I remembered that asking the Sidhe a question three times was considered extremely impolite. Due to some quirk of either magic or biology (which might be both, in their case), being asked a question three times compelled them to answer it honestly, whether they wanted to or not. Brenna was probably a lot more used to having to tip toe around that, having grown up with our Sidhe father.

“Yes, sister dear, pax,” she said dryly. “I came to shop, not to fight.” She peered at Athena’s basket, then mine. “So did you, from the looks of things. Protective charms? How very…boring.”

“We’re going to be learning to safely destroy enchanted objects,” I said flatly. “Building a few simple ones is a prerequisite.”

Her left eye twitched. “Ah.”

Evidently, she remembered the outcome of our battle on the train a year and a half earlier, where I’d been forced to use a powerful fire spell to destroy a ritual dagger she’d been trying to steal from us. It had resulted in half of the train car we’d been in being blasted to bits. She and Hecate - she hadn’t owned Hathor then - had been blown clean out of the car.

“Yes, I can see how you might want to learn to do that properly,” Brenna said dryly.

We stared at one another again, the silence stretching. What the hell was I supposed to say to her? Even after a year of therapy and exchanging letters with her regularly, I still had no idea how to approach her. She killed our father right in front of me…though he was a Sidhe Lord - a member of the ruling class of the spirit world that existed alongside ours - and based on what I’d gleaned from Brenna’s comments, letters, and memories (before my therapist and I successfully excised them from my mind), he wasn’t kind to Brenna.

And, you know, there was the whole “Having sex with my mother and leaving her the same night” thing. You’ve heard the old total nonsense question about “Is it really rape if she enjoyed it,” right? Try this one on for size: “Is it rape if she was seduced, taken, and left with blissful memories of the experience, thanks to an innate magic that was one step removed from mind control?” That’ll make your head ache.

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So I couldn’t really blame Brenna for having killed him. Sidhe morality was a bit bent under the best of conditions. But she’d demonstrated at length that she was neither entirely sane nor entirely safe. I didn’t trust her any further than I could’ve thrown her without magic.

We came, almost literally, from different worlds. What did we have to talk about? I fidgeted a little in spite of myself.

“Oh!” Brenna said suddenly, “did you really like my Yuletide gift?”

I smiled. “The signed edition of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland? Very much so. It was a wonderful gift.” I clasped my hands on my cane in front of me, squeezing the grip. “I’m sorry I didn’t send you anything…honestly, I had no idea what to get you.”

She smiled, a lopsided, not-quite-right smile. “I’m difficult to shop for. But you were easy…actually, I found that in Father’s library. I think he meant for you to have it.”

That made my skin crawl a little. But…how many opportunities are there to have an early edition of such magnificent stories, signed by the author. That it existed at all now made more sense to me. Our father had been an immortal, after all.

“So,” I said, desperately searching for something to say, “would you like to get some lunch?”

What?

<> Athena asked, her jaw dropping open a little.

<> Artemis said.

Judging by their expressions, Hecate and Hathor were as boggled as my familiars.

Brenna gave me a wide-eyed stare for a moment. “Really? I’d like that very much.” She giggled. The sound was not quite right, somehow. “It would give us a chance to really get to know one another a little better.”

I felt sweat break out on my forehead. What had I just done? Maybe Artemis was right, and I had gone mad. Very quickly, I checked my feelings on the subject, and discovered that I really did want a chance to sit down and try to get to know her a little better.

Isn’t there an old saying about how you can’t choose your family? Like it or not, comfortable with it or not, Brenna was my half-sister, and I didn’t have enough blood relations to go around throwing them aside because I wasn’t comfortable with them.

So I nodded. “Really. That’s why I suggested it.” I gestured around. “We’re on neutral ground here…why not take the chance, eh?”

Our familiars were still staring at us like we’d gone insane.

<> I said gently to Athena and Artemis, <>

<> Athena shot back.

<> I said.

Artemis looked up at me. <>

I looked back and forth between them, seeing Brenna doing the same with her familiars out of the corner of my eyes. <>

<> Athena said with a little nod.

Artemis grunted. <>

I looked up, and found Brenna watching me with a small, sad smile on her face. “Trust is going to be a problem for us, isn’t it.”

I returned her little smile with a lopsided one. “Probably all our lives. Come on, let’s get something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

Twenty minutes later we were all sitting at a round table in the Harrods cafe. Artemis and Hathor had settled beneath the table at our feet, and seemed to be getting along better than Athena and Hecate, who continued to eye one another uneasily as we ate.

As spellcasters, Brenna and I had quickly found common ground.

“So,” I was saying between bites of a really delicious turkey sandwich, “you’re saying you can use a blend of essential oils for protective enchantments?”

Brenna swallowed a bite of her salad and nodded eagerly. “Oh yes. Try a mix of black pine, holy basil, and rose geranium. I’ve never seen it for sale anywhere, I have to make it myself, but it works wonders for sealing mirrors against hostile entities.”

“Doesn’t it need to be refreshed after it dries?” I asked.

She shook her head. “The effects linger for months, as long as you don’t wash the mirror.” She gestured with her fork. “You’re making protective amulets, right? Have you thought about adding Frankincense to your recipe?”

“No, I hadn’t, but it makes sense,” I said. “For what, luck and protection? How about geranium, for defending against incoming negative energy?”

Brenna nodded. “Oh yes, definitely. Just be careful about what you mix together.” She giggled. “Some combinations can become toxic.” She forked up a bite of salad and crunched loudly to punctuate the statement.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Athena and Hecate, both working on burgers, continued to watch one another suspiciously.

“Is this as weird for you as it is for me?” I asked Brenna, drawing their attention.

Brenna nodded. “Oh yes, very much so. My tutors always focused on how things could harm and destroy, leaving me to research protective things for myself. And Father never wanted to socialize with me.” She smiled. “This almost makes me feel like a real girl.”

I tipped my head a little. “Like a real girl?”

“Well, we’re not really human, are we,” she said. “We’re half-Sidhe. That makes us different.”

I thought I saw a sad look on Hecate’s face for a moment.

“I suppose,” I said slowly. “But that doesn’t mean we aren’t ‘real.’ It doesn’t mean we can’t do normal things.”

Brenna shrugged. “What’s normal for me isn’t normal for someone else.”

“That’s true,” I agreed. Her ‘normal’ definitely wasn’t like anyone else’s. “But - “

She cut me off by waving her fork around. “All of this…Harrods, having lunch, having a friend…”

Did she think of me as a friend?

“It’s not normal,” she said. “This is…” She hesitated, pursing her lips and frowning a little. “This is a dream. Am I dreaming?” She put her fork down and pinched herself. “Well…it could still be a particularly vivid dream.”

I stared at her, feeling like the entire world had just tipped out from under me. One moment we’d been having what was - to me - a very mundane conversation about the best ways to assemble protective charms and spells, and the next moment she was…where was she?

Hecate touched Brenna’s shoulder lightly. “Mistress?”

Brenna’s eyes refocused, first on me, then on Hecate. “Thank you, dear. What was I saying?”

“You were saying that some combinations of essential oils could be toxic,” Hecate said, shooting quick, warning looks at me and Athena.

“Oh yes, thank you.” Brenna smiled at me. “You’ll want to be very careful about that, of course.”

“Of course,” I said faintly, feeling a bit light headed. What the heck had just happened? I opened my mouth to say something, and closed it again when Hecate gave me a quick, pleading look.

Brenna glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. “Bother. I have an appointment I can’t afford to miss. We’d best get going.” She smiled at me. “Lunch is on me today, okay?” She picked up the bill, rose, and headed for the cashier before I could say anything.

Hecate wilted a little. “Thank you,” she said in a soft, surprisingly warm contralto. Somehow, I’d expected her voice to be harsher. “Thank you for playing along there.”

“What happened?” Athena asked softly.

Hecate hesitated, glancing after Brenna, then looked at me again. “I suppose it’s not being disloyal, since you’re family and trying to help her. Sometimes her sanity…slips. Hathor and I haven’t figured out what sets it off, and we can usually bring her back from it, but…it can be bad, too.”

Understanding dawned in me like a light bulb being turned on. I’d been experiencing similar moments of cognitive dissonance for a while after Brenna’s psychic spell had ripped through my brain. Well…at least now I knew why. As she’d accidentally transferred some of her memories to me with that spell, a bit of her psychological problems - whatever they were - had been reproduced as well. I made a mental note to let Dr. MacMoran, my mind healer and psychologist, know.

I wondered, not for the first time, if our father had set that Sidhe magic up specifically to help me understand Brenna better.

On impulse, I quickly dug in my wallet and pulled out one of Dr. MacMoran’s business cards. She’d done such a wonderful job, both of removing the effects of Brenna’s spell from me and piecing me back together through normal therapy afterwards, that I’d taken to carrying a few of her cards around with me. My job frequently brought me into contact with people who’d experienced particularly traumatic events, and needed a professional to talk to.

I held the card out to Hecate. “Put this someplace safe…it’s the name and contact info for the Mind Healer who helped me. When Brenna’s ready, you’ll have it for her.”

Hecate took it from me with only a moment’s pause, gave me a quick smile, and made it disappear. I’m no slouch with sleight of hand, but for the life of me I wasn’t able to follow where she put it. “Thank you,” she whispered.

If Hecate was any indication, and I thought she was, Brenna was worth trying to save from herself. It might even be possible to do so. “You’re welcome.”

Athena’s gaze, I noticed, was no longer suspicious. Now it was sympathetic. And under the table, I could sense Artemis quietly talking to Hathor, though - in the way familiars have of communicating with one another - I couldn’t quite hear the words. It was kind of like listening to very badly tuned foreign language radio.

Brenna came back then, and Hecate and Hathor rose, the latter emerging from under the table. Brenna smiled at us. “This really was nice. I’d like to do it again sometime, if we can.”

I nodded. “I’d like that too.”

“Good.” She bobbed a little curtsy. “Enjoy the rest of your shopping! Come along, pets.”

And with that, she was gone, her calf-length black lace and satin skirts swirling as she turned, her familiars following in her wake. But before they left the cafe, Hecate glanced back and nodded to me once more.

I sat back in my chair, suddenly exhausted.

Athena rubbed her face with both hands. “That was really, really strange.”

<> Artemis emerged from beneath the table and sat looking at the exit. <> She looked up at me. <>

I ruffled her ears gently. “You’re welcome, Artemis.”

A waitress approached uncertainly. “Um…excuse me, Miss. You were having lunch with the dark-haired woman, right?”

I nodded uneasily. “Yes…”

The waitress glanced at the door. “Well…um…the gold and silver coins she paid us with aren’t of any mint or nationality we can identify, and while their weight is correct - which is why we took them - they set off our enchantment detectors when we went to put them in the till.” She held up a small velvet bag.

I sighed a little. “I suppose you’d better let me have the coins.”

“Is that safe?” she asked.

I nodded. “I’m a professional Mage. I’ll get them someplace safe where they can be examined.”

She immediately placed the bag on the table, putting it down as carefully as if she was handling a live grenade. “Thank you! Um…about the bill…”

I smiled and pulled out my wallet. “I’ll take care of it. With normal currency.”

Her relief was almost tangible.