(May 24th, 1986)

“How do you feel about having a sister?”

How do you approach the idea that you have immediate blood relatives that you had never even suspected of existing? Obviously, I had always suspected that my father was still alive out there somewhere. After all, the Sidhe don't age the way humans do; if they ever show signs of aging at all, it's probably voluntary or part of some disguise. It's rumored that Oberon, king of the Seelie court, is over twenty thousand years old.

(Pause for a moment and let that number sink in. That's older than written human history by about twelve to fifteen thousand years, depending on which creation myth you choose to believe in. And he usually appears, by all accounts, to be a handsome man in his late thirties or early forties.)

As such, I’d had no reason to believe my father had been anything other than alive. Heck, barring disease and violent death, most mortal spellcasters can expect to live to be a comfortable 150 or so. Some live to be 200, or even older. It's believed to be a side-effect of working with magic that retards the aging process dramatically. The Sidhe obviously live much, much longer, and usually - according to what little hard information we have on them - usually only die by violence or, rarely, disease.

(Another aside: As a changeling - halfling, half-blood, half-Sidhe, or however else you care to refer to someone with one Sidhe parent and one human parent - I could expect to live to four or five hundred before I start to look much older than thirty-five or forty, and probably won't be 'old' until I'm pushing seven or eight hundred, assuming I live that long. The oldest living changeling - that we know of - is a very elderly Wizard who claims to be over 1,500 years old. He’s a bit senile though, so who knows for certain?

At any rate, every time the thought of my probable longevity occurs to me, I thank the gods that the magic that binds a familiar to a spellcaster causes them to live as long as their owner. Bad enough to think that someday I could be taking care of Ben in his old age while I'm still physically young. If I had to watch Athena and Artemis grow old and die before me…

Best not to even consider it. Moving quickly away from that depressing subject and back to the topic at hand...)

So...a father? Yes, I had believed he was out there somewhere. But a sister?

I had come to grips with the idea that Brenna might actually be related to me in some way. She had, on our first meeting, called me cousin, and that wasn't outside the realm of possibilities. After all, there was nothing to say that her father and mine weren't whatever passes for brothers amongst the Sidhe. There's very little known about where the Sidhe come from or how they reproduce. There are records of Sidhe twins...so there was no reason to think it was impossible for Brenna to be my cousin.

But to have my father - our father - acknowledge us both as his daughters in a single sentence had stolen the breath from my body and left my head spinning. Thinking about it still made me feel light-headed and confused. I would have instantly dismissed the statement without a thought except for two simple facts.

First, it's well known that the Sidhe are both psychologically and physically incapable of telling a lie. Oh, they'll bend the truth so far that it looks like a Gordian Knot or a Möbius Strip. But they literally cannot speak words that are not true.

He said I was his daughter. Therefore, I was. He said that Brenna was his daughter, but from a different mother. That was, quite simply, true. Of course, there are ways of looking at people as family which might allow him to bend that truth to the breaking point, except for the second point.

He was able to affect me directly using magic.

That doesn't sound like a big deal. Mortal spellcasters do that kind of thing all the time, though in most civilized countries it’s completely illegal without the other person's explicit permission, except for the purposes of healing magic. But for the Sidhe, it's much more complicated, because they are unable to use spells to affect a mortal's body without a direct connection to that person. Usually that connection comes in the form of a bargain, a favor for a favor, or services for services. As long as a mortal is in debt to a Sidhe, they are open to all manner of manipulation, both physical and mental.

I had never met the man before, had made no deals or promises with him...and he was able to take away my pain with a simple touch. That left only one option - a blood connection. Blood calls out to blood, it's said, and that's never more true than with the Sidhe. But it had to be a first-generation blood relationship to have the sort of power he'd demonstrated over me. Which could only mean he was my father.

Therefore, Brenna and I were sisters. Q.E.D.

My head was spinning. I had a sister. She was a psychotic, borderline schizophrenic, dark magic-practicing murderer...but suddenly there was this other factor to consider: she was my blood.

Could she be redeemed somehow? If I showed her affection and caring, would she repent of the evil she'd done and try to atone for it? From what I had seen of her so far, I highly doubted it. Even if she were inclined to do so, where did she belong in my life, and I in hers? Had she done anything in the past that was so irredeemable that I shouldn’t even have been thinking that way?

Or would we always be at odds with one another? From what our father had said, that seemed to be the shape of things.

I sighed and looked across the low coffee table at Dr. MacMoran. She waited patiently while I tried to sort this all out in my head.

"I don't know how to answer the question," I said finally, trying to be as honest as I could. "I don't think I'm ready to try to answer it yet."

Dr. MacMoran nodded and jotted something on the pad that was perched on her lap. "That’s a completely fair answer. It's a difficult question, but it lies at the heart of what's keeping your psychic wounds from healing completely. You're going to have to address it eventually"

My heart sank.

"But," she said warmly, "The fact that you're thinking about it is a step in the right direction. It's okay to be confused by it, and it's perfectly natural for you to not feel ready to answer."

My heart stayed somewhere down in my stomach. Athena, sitting beside me on the short sofa, squeezed my hand gently. "Doctor," she began slowly, "is it a question that needs to be answered for her healing to progress?"

The doctor smiled. "No, not really. That she's willing to think about it is sufficient."

That statement relieved me a little. "So will I be able to completely control my emotions again soon?" I was intensely frustrated by the random outbursts of anger, depression and helpless sobbing that I'd been doing since I woke up in the hospital. No doubt the frustration wasn't making it any easier to control, but there it was.

"You will,” she said. “It'll take more time, but I think within a few more months you should be feeling pretty normal. You might have to watch for anger management issues for a while...that's the most common side-effect of the sort of psychic injury you sustained. But the rest will die down now that your healing is almost complete."

We lapsed into silence for a moment before she continued, changing the subject. "Tell me, how's the knee?"

I was, technically, completely healed. There were still times that I had trouble catching my breath, but they were few and far between now. I'd like to note, however, that a punctured lung is right up there at the very top of the Things I Don't Ever Want to Experience Again list. My right wrist and forearm were healing well, but…

The damage to my right knee had been quite a bit more extensive, and while they'd been able to reconstruct my kneecap and the joint itself easily enough, there was little they could do to speed up the healing of torn tendons and muscles. Over the past three weeks, since they'd released me from the hospital, I had been going three or four days a week for physical therapy to help my knee heal faster and build its strength back up. It had taken some badgering, but the doctor had finally admitted that he couldn't guarantee 100% recovery.

"The doctor says I should be able to get rid of the crutches after today's session," I replied. "But I'll need the knee brace and I'll be walking with a cane for a while, and I'll probably have a bit of a limp even after that." I sighed. "She really did a number on my knee."

"Knees are a fragile point where a lot can go wrong," Dr. MacMoran observed. "Are you angry about it?"

"Of course I am," I snapped, then sat back a little when Athena squeezed my hand again. "Sorry. Obviously, I am."

Dr. MacMoran smiled gently. "You have every reason to be. But it sounds to me like the physical therapy has gone well."

"It has," I admitted. "Even if it was insanely frustrating at first."

She smiled a bit more. "I know what you mean. I did P.T. for a knee injury when I was a teenager. Skiing accident," she added wryly. "Nothing as dramatic as your injury, but I understand the frustration."

I returned her smile. I couldn't help it. She genuinely seemed to care about me, and always found a way to relate to my problems. She had a way of breaking through the negative emotions that had been bubbling inside me since the fight, and was amazingly good at easing them down. "Thanks, Doctor. Somehow, it helps to know that people understand."

She nodded. "It always does. I think that's enough for today. Alys, I feel that you're making excellent progress. I'll see you on Monday, yes?"

"Yes," I agreed. Athena rose and picked up my crutches, then pulled me to my feet and helped me get the crutches under my arms. Artemis rose from where she'd been dozing in a patch of sunlight beneath the office's big window.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Have a good weekend, then," Dr. MacMoran said, rising and moving over to her desk. "Oh! Your boyfriend is coming to visit this weekend, isn't he?"

I'd been staying with Jonathan and my mother since I was released from the hospital. Ben - of course - had to go back to work, but he'd made a point of coming to visit at least once a week, and had managed to get the weekend off to spend it with me. I felt my cheeks heat up a bit, and was glad that the warmth I felt towards him and the eagerness I felt about seeing him was finally completely untainted by anger, fear or depression. "Yes, he is."

She smiled. "Good. Then definitely try to enjoy the weekend." She winked.

I laughed, then stopped, startled. I hadn't laughed in a month. Athena was looking at me in surprise, a smile curling her lips.

Dr. MacMoran smiled widely. "That's a sound I've been looking forward to hearing. And I'll bet your boyfriend has been too. Now shoo, you're going to be late for your P.T."

"Thank you, doctor," I said with all my heart.

"You're very welcome, Alys."

Athena, Artemis and I had a light lunch in the hospital cafeteria, then went to physical therapy...also known as 'I’m not here to torture you, Alys' time. But I felt elated when I hobbled out to the curb under my own power a couple of hours later, with only a little bit of help from Athena and no crutches. Jonathan was waiting for me at the curb, leaning against the shiny new automobile he'd purchased to make it easier to get me to and from the hospital during my rehab period.

He grinned broadly at me, the scars Brenna had left on his face almost invisible now. "Well, look at you. No more crutches?"

I shook my head and grinned back at him, and did not miss the relief that flitted across his face when I did so. I had done precious little smiling over the past month. "No more crutches, though I need the knee brace for a few weeks more," I replied, reaching down to tap the contraption made of straps and a reinforcing metal hinge that was wrapped around my leg outside my jeans. "And I'm either going to need a cane for a while, or I'll be spending a lot of time leaning on Athena."

"While I'm sure Athena wouldn't mind," Jonathan said, to which Athena murmured "Never," before he continued, "your mother and I got you something." He reached into the car's back seat, drew something thin out, and tossed it to me.

I caught it in my left hand and looked at it. It was a beautiful cane. Its shaft was a gleaming brown wood I didn't recognize, with a silver head carved in the shape of a running cat. When I looked closer, I realized that the cat was - of course - a snow leopard.

"The shaft is ironwood," Jonathan explained, leaning against the car again. "It's a magically resonant material...it'll take enchantments like you wouldn't believe, so you can use it in place of a staff. And it's as hard as stone, but lighter than steel and nearly impossible to break, so you can hit things with it too. The head is actually a steel alloy, so it's almost as hard as the cane itself."

I looked at it for a long moment, then let it slide through my fingers until I caught the cat-shaped top and let the rubber pad at its bottom touch the ground. "Thank you," I said, taking the few steps to him entirely under my own power, without even Athena's help, so that I could hug him.

He returned the embrace and kissed the top of my head. "You're welcome, Alys."

When I turned, Athena was wiping tears from her eyes, and even Artemis looked a little misty-eyed. <>

<> Athena said at once. <>

<> Artemis added. <>

For the first time since my injuries I considered how miserable my familiars must have been dealing with their own injuries and helping me with mine, all while dealing with my crazily out-of-control emotional states. Then, I took two steps back towards them and was met by Athena, who immediately embraced me. I hugged her tightly, reaching down with my free hand to caress Artemis's head as she came up beside us. <>

<> Artemis purred, rubbing against my hand.

<> Athena added.

Jonathan cleared his throat. "I know the doctor said that expressing concern for others would indicate that you're very nearly healed," he said dryly, "And believe me I'm glad to see it, but we're in a no-parking zone. If we hang around much longer, I'm going to get ticketed."

Athena and I laughed, our voices harmonizing perfectly. It felt impossibly right, and something inside me relaxed. "All right," I said, "Let's go home."

The next day, Ben and I went to take a look at the stone circle where the fight had taken place.

"You know," Ben said as we climbed out of Jonathan's car and started the walk into the woods, Artemis and Athena behind us, "when I asked if you wanted to go out, this really wasn't what I had in mind."

I looked at him, wondering if he was upset about being here, but he was smiling. "Don't think I didn't see the picnic basket you sneaked into the back of the car," I said with a little smile. "I just...need to see this. Then we can go find a sunny hilltop somewhere."

He flashed me a quick, shy grin. "I like that plan."

The walk through the woods seemed a lot longer than it had the first time. Maybe it was a matter of perception, or maybe it was just our having to go slower because of my bad knee. Either way, I was shocked when we reached the circle of standing stones and its clearing.

There was no sign whatsoever that anything had happened there. Even the hole I'd unintentionally burned in one of the standing stones was gone.

"What…?" I began to ask.

"As I understand it," Ben said, "one of the local Druid groups took it kind of personally that a couple of arrogant Mages got it into their heads to have it out in their ritual circle. As soon as the police had everything they needed, the Druids moved in and cleaned the place up. Didn't leave a trace, obviously." He glanced at me. "You okay?"

I was leaning heavily on my new cane, trying to sort out what was going on in my mind. On one hand, it was a beautiful clearing in a ring of standing stones. The sun was shining and a pleasant breeze was rustling the leaves on the trees.

On the other hand, I was seeing with shocking clarity what it had been like the night I'd followed Brenna to it. Close to midnight, torch-lit and sinister. We had torn up the ground with our spells and shed our blood on the grass.

I took a deep breath and let it out. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

Ben slid an arm around my shoulders and gently turned me away from the clearing. With a slight bit of pressure, he started walking me back towards the car with Athena and Artemis flanking us.

It wasn't long before I was lying on a light blanket on a grassy hillside miles away. Ben was busily going through the picnic basket my mother had packed for us, and Athena was calling to Artemis to not roam too far. As if she would. But we were all still in need of a bit of reassurance.

The sky was blue, the clouds were white and fluffy, and my mind was in turmoil. Had I expected to see some evidence of my father's existence there? Or had I, for some reason, needed to see the damage that Brenna and I had done to the stones and ground alike?

"What happened to his body?" I asked suddenly.

I heard the basket close and Ben stretched out beside me, rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his hand to watch me. "By the time the paramedics were done getting you and Athena loaded into an ambulance, and your mother and Jonathan were untied, his body had decayed almost past recognizing. He was probably very, very old. I think the police gathered up the remains for study, but I don't know what they did with them. Do you want me to try to find out?"

I shook my head. "No. I don't even know why I asked that."

"He was your father," Ben said simply, then amended, "Your biological father. It's natural that you'd want to know about him. Who he was, why he did what he did."

"And now I never will," I said softly.

Ben watched me in silence for a minute, then slowly said, "There is one person who at least knows who he was…"

"A warped and twisted version of him," I said. "Ben, I swear, it was like he was two different people. When he was talking to me, he was as gentle and caring as anyone I've ever met. When he spoke to Brenna, he was hard and cold."

Ben was silent for a moment, then with forced cheer said, “The good news is, changelings seem to inherit more personality traits from their mortal parents than their immortal ones." He smiled gently, bent and kissed me softly until I responded, turning towards him a little and returning his kiss. "You're going to be fine, Alys," he said a moment later. "This is natural under the circumstances."

"I don't know how you put up with me over the last month," I said wryly.

"You were actually pretty funny sometimes," he replied lightly. "They had you so doped up on painkillers at first, you'd thank me for visiting four or five times when I arrived."

I snorted. "That's attractive."

He flashed me the quick, shy grin that made something in my stomach flutter pleasantly. "You were so earnest about being glad I'd come that it was attractive."

I made a face. "Charming. Was I drooling?"

"Only once," he said, then added quickly, "But it was adorable."

Athena sat down cross-legged on the blanket, giggling. "He's lying. You never drooled."

"Small favors," I said, smiling. I suddenly realized that my equilibrium had returned; my dark mood had passed. "Thank you," I said, turning to Ben.

He shrugged. "Your mind healer, Dr. MacSomething…"

"Dr. MacMoran," I offered with a smile, quite certain that he knew her name very well.

"Right, her," he nodded. "She had a talk with us before you were released from the hospital and let us know what you'd be going through and how we could help. She said the best thing we could do was to try to understand...and try to cheer you up without looking like we were doing so."

"You're very good at it," I assured him.

"Good," he bent and kissed me again, then sat up and opened the basket. "Time to eat. You've lost weight, and you didn't weigh a lot to begin with."

I sat up slowly, giving him an amused look. "Trying to fatten me up?"

He handed me a plate of chicken. "Absolutely," he smiled. "Can't have you blowing away in a stiff breeze. Besides, if I don't take good care of you, your mom is going to start slamming the door in my face when I show up. One broken nose a year is my limit."

I laughed and took the plate.

"Will you be coming back to London soon?" he asked as we ate.

"Soon," I said with a nod. "Since they took me off the crutches yesterday, I'm pretty much out of excuses if Dr. MacMoran cuts me loose next week."

"Hollis will be glad to have you back," Ben said around a bite of chicken. "He's been running himself ragged keeping up with all of the work. At least, the way he tells it."

"Don't chew with your mouth open," Athena said dryly.

"Not everyone can talk to Alys telepathically," he shot back just as dryly. They smiled at one another and returned to their meals. It felt like a brother and sister teasing one another, which warmed me. It felt right, somehow.

"I'll be glad to get back," I said, poking at my chicken. "I think I'm ready to get back to work. And if nothing else, Brenna accomplished the task her...our...father set her."

"What's that?" Ben asked.

"Showing me just how far I have to go," I said quietly. "And how complacent I've been about parts of my training."

"Just because she's had a life so hard that it's left her warped, disturbing and combat-ready doesn't mean you should emulate her," Athena said. We'd had this conversation a couple of times already.

"No, that's not what I meant," I said, smiling. "I mean...I need more experience, a lot of it. And I need to do more training in combat spellcasting."

"Oh," she said, then nodded. "I suppose that's true. I could use more training too."

"As long as you two don't forget to live," Ben said firmly.

Artemis loped up and flopped down beside him, resting her chin on his leg. <> When he mock-snuck her a piece of chicken, then started to scratch behind her ears, she closed her eyes and purred deeply. <>

I snorted a laugh and Athena giggled. Ben smiled innocently. "Do I want to know?"

"She thinks you're wise and a good ear-scratcher. Therefore," I said, "we must clearly listen to your every word."

He grinned. "Clearly, Artemis is the smartest person here."

<> Artemis said smugly. <>

I started to laugh, remembering what she'd said about thumbs bringing nothing but work. Athena rolled her eyes and explained the joke to Ben.

As I got my laughter back under control and looked around at them, I realized that this, more than anything else, was what I wanted from life. People to love who loved me. It was what Brenna wanted too...but she had such a distorted understanding of what love was that she would only ever have her familiars. And I suspected they were as afraid of her as she had been of her father.

My fear of her and hatred for her melted then into sad pity. For the first time since I'd woken up in the hospital, I wished there was something I could do to help her rather than wanting to see her dead. I felt...like myself again.

"You know," I said suddenly, causing all three of them to look at me, "I think I'm going to be okay."

Ben smiled, murmured "Thank goodness," and leaned forward to kiss me again.