~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Part 14:

In her sleep, Alisha twisted and turned, trying to escape the nightmare. Neither the bittersweet dreams of Talisa's life, nor the usual inexplicable dreams all mortals suffered, but a vibrant and sharp world that she had never seen before.

At first, it was as though she floated in liquid darkness that was warm and smooth; it filled her lungs, cloying and sweet to taste with an oddly powerful jolt to it. She could hear nothing, see nothing, feel only the pliancy of the water as she tried to move out of the vortex and the drumming of her own heart against her ribcage. It was dull and endless. She thought she might go crazy if she had to stay in there any longer. She knew she was dreaming; but this was no dream of hers.

Suddenly, the dark around her seemed to shrink and reform to become a hooded figure whose face was concealed by the voluminous folds of material that swathed its figure to shapeless bulk. Alisha realised she was sitting on a stone floor, wet hair trailing down her back in rattails, her hands bound.

"What would you give?" the figure asked in a voice that was strange and distorted. Alisha squinted at it, trying to think if ever she had known this being before in hallucinations. She couldn't remember it. The figure sent chills down her spine just listening to it.

"I don't understand," she replied absently. Confusion was setting in with cold; this was all new and far too vivid for her liking. The figure circled her and she twisted to follow it, her eyes dark with mistrust.

"For this life," it said mockingly. "For you humanity. Or had you forgotten?"

She would never forget and was on the verge of saying so angrily when the figure interrupted.

"If you had the choice, who would it be?"

She shook her head, feeling hair slap against her face like a wake-up call. She began to suspect that this was not the work of her subconscious. "What?" She narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?" she demanded quickly. "Show yourself, if you are not afraid to do so."

It lifted two hands, two surprisingly human hands, slender and fine-boned, artist's hands but for the hooked and jagged nails that were ugly as broken glass. Slowly, tantalising so, it drew back the hood. A cackle began to resound in her ears as she leaned forward eagerly to see its identity and as the last folds fell away, blinding white light burst into her eyes.

Radiance everywhere and someone laughing; an unpleasant uncontrolled sound, the low shaking laughter of someone totally insane. The light began to burn and the laughter rolled into itself, until her whole world was fire and madness and then...

She was standing on a cliff-top, still with the roar in her ears, but not just any rock formation. This was the Dagger cliff that lay near her old village, named for the spikes of rocks that pointed at the bottom of the cliff. The teeth of the sea, that had eaten many a fool. On a night that was imprinted on her memory.

Only...something was different. She looked around, breathing the night air deeply and realised her torso had something tight and ungiving about it. Only then did she notice what she wore; an old-fashioned gown, a velvet shade of dark red that clung like a second skin, the skirt flaring out wide to fall to her feet. Her shoulders were bare, water drops condensing on her skin. Gloves of the same colour covered her arms to the elbow, elegant as any a noblewoman had ever worn.

Her mind skipped from her unusual attire as she turned to survey her surroundings. The roaring in her ears was the pounding of surf on the rocks, and the odd scream that made her swing to face the cliff edge was the call of a lone gull, flying in the night.

There was a lively sea breeze, the air cooling her, the sounds of the night a constant percussion. Below her feet she knew was the grass and rocks where she had sat with Ieran before he had taken the long walk. But none of this could hold her focus.

It was not after all, she understood, the same night. For there, by the edge of the cliff, was the cairn of rocks that marked Ieran's last step; that were his headstone and tribute. And the figure leaning against it caught her attention and breath. A vague silhouette outlined on the moon that hung huge, white and low in the sky like an eye that held the figure as its pupil.

It turned as she came nearer, drawn by her curiosity, her hands lifting the skirt of the gown to keep it from trailing in the mud. She couldn't imagine what piece of romanticism had put her in this tailor's dream on the midst of a winter's night that was not even real.

As she neared, she figure became clearer; hair silvered by the moonlight and watchful cat's eyes that were fathomless as ever. No laughter locked there, nor a sunny smile; Ieran fixed his eyes on her, his face expressionless. The vacuity there sent shivers down her spine - as though he were some sort of puppet.

She was being manipulated, Alisha thought with fury starting to boil up. Deliberate cruelty. This was not her Ieran. Where was the soulmate link that spring to life in her memory, where was the love in his eyes? She hated whoever did this - she hated Bhari - for tainting her memory like this.

"You must choose," he said gravely. His face held a horrible vapid look that chilled her to the bone; as though this manipulator had no idea how Ieran moved, or thought. There was no personality in this thing. It was a vassal, nothing more.

"What going on, Ieran?" she said sharply, trying to get some sort of reaction.

He gave her no answer, but simply repeated, "You must choose."

"Choose what?" she snapped. There was a dreadful pain at seeing her recollection exploited like this. It fuelled her rage at the dragon that did this.

He reached for her. Alisha let him, giving in for a moment, until she felt the touch of his hands on her arms. It burned like fire might and she leapt away with a yell. There were blisters on her arms where his hands had been.

"Are you trying to kill me?" she began, but before her rant could begin, he interrupted in that same monotone.

"Not kill, Talisa. Show."

She wanted to shake him, but a glance at the marks on her arm told her that would not be a good idea without a cattle prod. "Get on with it," she muttered.

"You must decide, Talisa." He smiled coldly, but it was skewed and unnatural as though someone had put a finger at the corner of his mouth and pulled his lips into shape. "Two will live and one will die."

"Who?" she said in sudden alarm.

He began to walk away. "You will see." Then he turned back. "But you already have my blood on your hands. Do you wish that a second time?"

She felt the gloves on her hands change somehow. Alisha looked down to see her arms covered in blood where the fabric had been. She stared in revulsion.

Her anger hit high point. "Either you tell me, Ieran Hansson or I'll push you off that cliff myself!" She sneered openly, fists clenched in undiluted rage. "Or should that be Bhari?"

Ieran swung back, and there was a moment where his face contorted into the horrible demented laughter she had heard earlier, before his body fell away into nothing with a high pitched inhuman shriek. Flames rocketed to the sky as his figure crumbled into ashes, ashes that were blown away in a grey streaming wind which spiralled to the sky in a motion that was unnatural. Contrived. She was silent, heart beating madly with fear and shock. Then she heard someone applauding behind her.

"Very clever," the voice said softly. It was the woman who had called herself Celeste, her almond shaped eyes cunning as ever. She waved a hand and the air about them grew light as the sun dawned with incredible speed, the sunlight hurting Alisha's eyes before they adjusted. "I've never been outwitted before. And by a mortal, too."

"There's always a first," Alisha said sharply. She glared at the woman. "What's with the Cinderella outfit?" She gestured to her clothes.

Bhari laughed. "An effect, nothing more. And I was hoping the sight of your lost love could persuade you to make the right choice."

"And which choice would that be?" Alisha said icily. The blood on her arms was congealing now and it was not a pleasant sensation.

"To be a dragon, or not to be a dragon." Bhari raised a thin eyebrow. "Or more to the point, to resist or not. Becoming is a foregone conclusion. The only factor now is how many people you allow to be hurt before you accept your fate."

Alisha shook her head defiantly. Her hair tumbled back like a river of mud. "Foregone?" She mustered all the scorn she could.

"Of course. You can't resist two dragons. It is only because David insists you be convinced without harm that you have managed to get away so far. Though you seem capable of angering him to the point where he loses control. Most commendable."

"Yes," she queried suddenly. "What do you want with David?"

Bhari didn't answer. "Did you know you can be what you want on the dreamscapes?" she asked in return. Question for question. "Look." The woman stopped dancing and closed her eyes, concentrating. Slowly, her hair turned purple, her eyes green and her skin blue. Wings sprouted from her back, horns on her forehead elongated until she looked like some sort of satanic temptress. "Pretty, isn't it?"

"Do you love him?" Alisha persisted, struck by a thought.

The dragon laughed. "Gods, no. He's a one-woman man. But he and I have made a deal. You're part of this deal, too, and there's no escape, Talisa Alfaso."

"Just get out," Alisha hissed. "You cannot threaten me. You've lost your power over me." Then she laughed suddenly, seeing the irony. "I could stop all this, couldn't I? Die - not your way, but mine."

"Suicide?" Bhari said, shaking her head mockingly so the black hair writhed like another creature. She walked to the edge of the cliff, and peered over it. Then the woman stepped out onto the air and stood, her wings moving like paper blown on a breeze. "Well, there is that. There's this." She dropped away from Alisha's vision, then reappeared, hovering on the air. "If you dare."

"What do you mean?" she said, trying to keep away from the edge. A mist hung over the edge, as though it was a portal.

Her head tilted, one eyebrow raising in synchronisation. "If you walk over this cliff in your mind, if you decide to die, then you will die. Your mind will stop and your body along with it." The woman examined her blue nails. "Of course, there's a tiny catch."

"What?" Alisha said wearily. She wasn't surprised; she hardly thought, after Bhari had gone to so much trouble that she would let Alisha kill herself.

Bhari grinned and fluttered her wings. "That sexy blond boy? Very nice, my dear. Pity about that link. I'd have a shot at him myself otherwise - you know what they say about the cat 'shifters...but he seems taken with you, though I don't know why." She smiled coldly and continued in conversational tones. "I've snagged your minds together right now. He's asleep, of course, though I expect he's having some strange dreams. You go, so does he. Your call..."

Alisha glared, her eyes spiking hate. "You already know the answer to that. Now get out. I don't know why you thought this would make me change my mind."

Bhari tilted back her head and stared up at the day sky. " I thought this might be easiest. I have other powers. But I am on a time limit, mortal girl. You will be a dragon before the end of tomorrow. I promise you that. I will find a way and you will make a choice. Two shall live. One shall die. It is your choice which."

Her smile had a winsome quality and her voice was syrupy. "Sweet dreams, Talisa."

* * * *

Jepar smiled at Alisha as she walked into his house with Chatoya and Lisa. She looked tired, he thought, with faint dark circles under her eyes, but he still couldn't shake the strange feeling that the person she presented to the world was not quite true, somehow. As though he was looking into a lake the dark blue of her eyes and seeing something rippling underneath the waters.

"Sleep well, Toya?" he inquired, seeing a flicker in Chatoya's eyes that told him all was not well with her, either.

"Something was abroad last night," Chatoya said wearily.

He stared. "We're not talking tourists, right?"

A sardonic smile was his answer, a look that didn't suit the witch who was more like a sister than a friend. "No," she sighed. "But...Jep, it was *weird*." She saw the interested eyes of Thom and Cern; both staying at Jepar's until they had repaired most of Cern's home, as well as the eyes of Alisha and Lisa. Quickly the witch switched languages to Spanish, a language both she and Jepar spoke fairly fluently, but which none of the Circle could understand.

"I was just scrying," she explained in worried tones, "and it was late. After midnight, and then something came into view."

"Hey!" Cern protested. "Speak so we can understand."

Both ignored him. "Something?" Jepar said, his voice bemused. Toya really looked upset, and he glanced down at her fingernails. Bitten, like they always were when she was especially bothered.

"I don't know how to describe it," she replied. "It was...dark. And powerful, and it was on the dream plane."

He whistled softly. Jepar had known Toya long enough to pick up a few things about witchcraft - or the parts of it she practised. "You mean in someone's dream?"

She nodded. "It felt evil."

"I-" Jepar began.

"Enough doom and gloom," Lisa said briskly, glaring at them both. "It's bad enough about Norman Bates moving in, we don't need anything else." They were about to carry on anyway, when the vampire said meaningfully, "Or I'll knock you both out...."

"Okay!" they said in unison. Jepar flung a quick mental message at the witch. ~ Later. ~

"How about you?" he said to Alisha. "Good dreams?"

"Not exactly," she mumbled. "Just..." he thought she was going to say something more, but she stopped and raised an exhausted lift of her lips. "You?"

He groaned and glared over at Thom, who returned the stare with innocent blue eyes behind his glasses. "Well, I might have slept better if someone had warned me about his sleepwalking habits..."

"I forgot," Thom protested. "And besides...I didn't break anything."

Jepar stifled another yawn. "No, but falling down the stairs at three in the morning?" He turned bright green eyes on Cern. "And *you* might have mentioned it."

The witch laughed but it was blocked out by the doorbell. With a dire mutterings, Jepar got up to answer it.

* * * *

Alisha felt as though she had no sleep at all. She was worrying about what to do, how she could outthink Bhari and David. Her thoughts didn't get very far when Jepar came back in. Accompanied by Bhari.

The shapeshifter smiled pleasantly enough, though there was slight confusion in his eyes. "Shar, she reckons she knows you?" A slight lift of an eyebrow, nothing more.

Alisha glared at the woman, unable to hide her rancour. "Damn right she does."

Bhari's eyes slid sideways to Jepar then back to Alisha, holding a clear threat. "I think we need to talk," she said chattily. "About our agreement?"

"Go to hell," she replied, eyes blazing like fire trapped in sapphires. She saw Chatoya's shocked expression mirrored in the faces of all her friends, except Jepar who smothered a grin.

The dragon woman showed fury for a second before complacency smoothed her features. "I think that will be your prerogative."

"Didn't you understand me the first time?" Alisha inquired with devastating ice. "Let me rephrase that: get out."

"I told you before; you have to make a choice. And you will have to make it soon." Bhari grinned slowly, showing pointed teeth. "Of course, I suppose I could kill one of your friends to teach you...which one?" She turned to look at Chatoya. "The witch? Spying on me with your little crystal and your little powers." Her lidless eyes moved. "Or this sexy shapeshifter? Much more to you than meets the eyes," she drawled to Jepar.

He stepped away from her. "I can't say the same for you," he said calmly. "And I don't know why you're threatening Shar-"

"Because I'm a dragon," Bhari said harshly. "And to quote one of your quaint programs - resistance is futile." She turned to fix that curious unblinking gaze on Alisha. "You have until the sun sets. "

"My, how dramatic," Alisha muttered. She had the horrible creeping feeling that the outcome of all this was inevitable.

"Not at all. I simply don't have a watch," the dragon replied. Her slanted eyes were cold, her long shiny hair hitting white highlights. "And all you have is until the sun sets to get yourself to that crater-ridden field. Otherwise I come and fetch you and your friends can join the Crone in hell. Your choice, mortal." She beamed. "Have a nice day," Bhari mocked, turning crisply with her hair swinging like a cloak behind her and walking away.

There was absolute silence, the Circle all staring after the dragon. Then, as one, they turned their eyes to Alisha.