AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'd like to thank everyone who over the last months has emailed me about my stories. This is one for all you lot out there, especially the people (and you know who you are) who have asked me if Liam would make a return. Well here it is. Hope you think it was worth the wait. Also thanks to Seneca and Suzanne for proofreading and their usual valuable comments.
DISCLAIMER: Based on Charmed, a Spelling Productions television production, created by Constance M Burge. All characters are their property except for Liam, Philippa and Jagan.
"Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday dear Philippa
Happy birthday to you""Go on," Phoebe encouraged her daughter, "Blow out the candles."
"Don't forget to wish," smiled Aunt Prue.
Philippa Suzanne Newland took a big breath and exhaled, extinguishing all four candles on her cake in one go. Her parents and aunts were suitably impressed. Then the candles relit. My brown haired four-year-old daughter took another breath and once again put out the candles. Twice more they relit and twice more they were blown out. When the candles relit themselves for the fifth time, Philippa frowned, her green-grey eyes narrowing in annoyance, uncannily like her Aunt Prue's.
"OK," asked Piper "Which one of you three is making with the magic?"
"It's not me," I answered.
Phoebe also denied her involvement. All eyes turned to look at the guilty expression on Prue's face. "OK, it was me," she admitted. "But it isn't magic. They're just those relighting birthday candles that you can get."
Prue's niece scowled at her, "Aunt Pwue, Dat not funny."
"I'm sorry," she apologized, "Could we be friends again if I fly you around the house?"
Philippa's face lit up in a smile, "Yeah. Willya Aunt Pwue? Pwease."
Prue smiled, and gestured with her hand. Philippa was lifted straight out of her chair and flew around the house screaming with pleasure. Prue steered her young niece through the air using her power of telekinesis, which, during the last four years had become immensely powerful, even more so than the formidable power that had been possessed by their Grams. Prue could now even move objects in another room, as long she knew where they were located. Just as Philippa was swooping down past her mother's ears, Prue's mobile phone rang. Prue picked up her cell phone and answered it, channeling her powers through her eyes to bring Philippa in for a two-point landing.
Listening briefly to the caller on the other end of the phone, Prue answered, "Look, I told you. I'm spending the day with my niece. It's her birthday. You don't need me to supervise the arrival of the Lawrence shipment. You're Vice President of Acquisitions, Frank. I have every confidence that you can take care of it." With that Prue hit the end button. "You'd think now that I'm CEO and 40% shareholder, I wouldn't get called in to Buckland's on my day off."
Piper laughed, "Some things never change. But at least now you can say no. Turning to her niece she smiled, "So we've cut the cake, you've made a wish, and Aunt Prue has even taken a day off work. "
Shooting a vengeful look at her sister, Prue cut in, "Yes, but there's still something missing. What I could it be?" Whispering conspiratorially to her niece, she continued, "How about… presents?"
At the mention of presents the four year-old looked questioningly at her mother. Phoebe smiled, and then told her, "We hid them in Aunt Piper's closet. Go get 'em."
Philippa extended a hand, pointing upstairs. A pile of presents appeared in front of her. Like me, my daughter had the power of summoning and banishing - the ability to make an object come to her, or be sent to another place, but she had to know where that place was in order for it to work. Although still young, Philippa's powers were quite strong, and although she was still learning to control them, she usually did a good job of it. Of course, sometimes this could be a problem when she wanted something she shouldn't have!
Quickly, Philippa sorted through the pile. There was a present from each of her aunts, one from Leo (who was still seeing Piper, although his Whitelighter duties mostly kept him away), one from Darryl Morris, who'd been seeing Prue for a long time now, and her mother Phoebe, but no present from her father. Philippa looked up at me, frowning, her eyes misting over.
"I'm sorry, darling," I explained "But Daddy's been really busy. Trying to finish that book." A year ago I'd made up a bedtime story for my daughter, and a family friend had heard it and persuaded me to submit it to the publishers she worked for. Somehow, it'd ended up a bestseller, and now I had a contract for two more. "Tell you what. You can have any present you like. You'll be Aladdin and I'll be the Genie."
"Anything?"
"Anything!"
"Even magical," she asked hesitantly, testing the waters.
"Especially magical," I grinned "I'm a genie today."
"Then I want to see where you lived," Philippa answered instantly. Seeing me frown in puzzlement, Philippa explained. "Mummy and you told me that you used to live somewhere where Mummy, and Aunt Pwue and Piper was on TV. You always saying how nice it is. But 'cause you come here by accident, you not even got a picture. I wanna see it."
That was true. I came from a reality where the world of the Charmed Ones was just a TV show. By accident I'd turned myself into a witch and then ended up in the Halliwell's reality. Falling in love with Phoebe, I'd never gone back, but I still retained a love for the town in England in that alternate reality where'd I grown up.
"I think that's possibly the one wish I can't grant," I said, attempting to let my daughter down gently, "As you say it was an accident. I'm not sure we can do it on purpose."
Phoebe interrupted, "Actually, I think Philippa can grant her own wish."
Instantly, four pairs of eyes, her sisters', her daughter's, and my own, fixed themselves on my wife, looking at her as if she'd lost her mind. Ignoring the looks she explained, "Philippa was born on the night of a full moon. According to all the Wicca lore, a witch born under a full moon is special. Anytime their birthday falls on a full moon, they gain access to tremendous power. There's one tonight." She smiled at her daughter, "Tonight Philippa, you could even beat the Power of Three!"
"How?" asked the fascinated birthday girl.
"Draw down the moon."
* * * Witches have always believed the moon to be one of the most powerful forces in witchcraft. The legends tell that the ancient witches of Thessaly, long since vanished, were able to draw the moon down from the heavens, and command it to carry out their will. My daughter, as a result of her birth, could do the same.
It was almost 8pm and the sky had finally gone dark. Outside the attic window, a full moon shone gloriously over the Golden Gate Bridge. A suitcase lay at Prue's feet, and another at mine. In addition Piper was carrying £2000 in UK currency. It'd been the eldest Halliwell's suggestion that we might as well all go as a family to see my hometown and make a vacation of it.
Prue hadn't had a proper holiday for almost two years. Shortly after Philippa's first birthday she'd quit the auction house after her boss had asked her to pass a fake Monet off as the real thing. A year later he'd been convicted of fraud, and the auction house had lain in ruins. It was saved by an employee buyout. With Buckland's reputation in tatters, her former colleagues had turned to Prue, asking her back as the CEO. It had been a long, hard struggle, but with her usual determination, Prue had managed to revive the auction house's fortunes
Following her suggestion, I'd gone home and packed a case for the Newland family, while Prue did the same for the two remaining Halliwell sisters. Piper had blinked to the bank (a power she'd acquired recently) to withdraw and change some money. Phoebe and Philippa had spent the afternoon in the attic searching for the required ritual and invocation. Now it was time, and we had all gathered in the attic of Halliwell manor for the departure. Phoebe gave her daughter a final warning, "Philippa, she's very powerful. Be polite."
"You alweady said," Philippa reminded her mother; then reciting the spell she'd learnt that afternoon, she began, hesitantly at first, as she stumbled over the unusual names, then gaining in confidence.
"Gorgo, Mormo, Ereschigal
Three faced woman
I summon you, bind you
I, who was born under your gaze,
On this night celebrate my birth
As you look on. My power at its zenith
I call you down to me
Be here for me.The moon seemed to grow, in size and in intensity, the white disk expanding until it filled the sky; it's brightness increasing, until it hurt to look directly at the heavenly body. A pure white light bathed the attic, and then the voices came. Or rather, three voices, all speaking as one, in an imperious, haughty tone. "We have not been drawn down for thousands of revolutions. Do you know what you do, child?"
Philippa had inherited more than just powers from her mother. She'd also inherited Phoebe's total fearlessness. "Not really," she admitted. "But Mummy says I can summon you and you have to do what I say."
"Perhaps that is true," replied the voices, "Perhaps it is not. If it were true, what would you command? And if it is not, why should we not destroy you and your family?"
"Because I'm not going to command. I'm not a witch from… Where was it?" she asked Phoebe.
"Thessaly," answered Phoebe, a worried tone in her voice.
"Yeah, there," continued Philippa. "They used to pull you down and order you 'bout. Well I'm not, I'm asking. It's my birthday and I want to visit where my Daddy comes from. Me, Daddy, Mummy, and Aunty Pwue and Piper. Please."
I sensed the voices' attention shifting from my daughter to myself, "A traveller across the boundaries, who gained his power beneath our gaze." Their attention shifted, once more, now taking in all of us, "As did the Three. We have observed you and all that you have done. We are impressed." Their attention flicked back to my daughter, "The crossing of boundaries is no small matter, it creates disturbance in the order of things."
"I know," answered Philippa, "A warlock come after Daddy, and nearly screwed everything." Seeing the look shot at her by her mother, Philippa quickly explained, "Aunty Pwue said it when her spell to find out if Darwyl is ever gonna ask her to marry 'im blew up. There was loads of smoke and…"
"That was a secret!" Prue yelled hastily, now the subject of some baleful glares.
"We'll remind you of the personal gain rule later," promised Piper.
"Not to mention setting a bad example," added Phoebe.
It seemed that if we could see their faces the voices would have been smiling, "Never have we been simply asked, rather than commanded. You are granted four nights to see your father's home. On the fifth night, be at the place you arrive and you will be returned. Fail, and you must wait until you can next summon us, to command your return. Do you understand, child?"
Philippa nodded. Piper had a sudden thought, "I'd like to ask a favour if I may."
"And what does the time freezer, quick traveller ask of us?"
"There's a spell that protects our book. But I'm still scared that it may come to harm, if we go away. "
"What of it?"
"My niece was born within your sight. That makes her one of your favoured ones. Entitled to your protection. The Book of Shadows is Philippa's inheritance, her birthright. In a way it's part of her. By protecting it, you protect her. So I ask you to watch over it."
"You reason wisely, Piper Halliwell. Done. Now go. And remember, four nights."
* * * Slowly the white light faded, and when we could see again, we were no longer in Halliwell Manor. Instead we were standing in a clearing, in the middle of a large wood, our suitcases at our feet, and a full moon over our heads. I looked around, "Crow's Wood! My mates and me used to spend hours here. Building dens. Playing soldiers. Once we…"
A grinning Prue interrupted my reminiscing, "Liam, we need to find somewhere to stay. Unless you packed a tent."
"No, but there's a hotel that way," I replied sheepishly, pointing my finger, "The Garth."
We set off through the woods, "That was nice with the book, Piper" commented Prue. "How did you know about the "entitled to protection" thing?"
Piper smiled, "Phoebe isn't the only one who reads occult books."
Phoebe laughed, and then more seriously added, "There was something weird about that whole experience. I got the sense that those voices knew something, something about us."
The conversation ended as we emerged from the woods near a busy road. Across the road stood a hotel. Entering the reception area, we inquired if there were any rooms available. Luckily there were and we even managed to get adjoining twin and family rooms. By now Philippa was very tired. It'd been a long day. Tucking her into bed, she soon fell asleep, and Prue, Piper, Phoebe and I spent our first night on my home turf, in the hotel bar, swapping stories of childhood escapades.
The next morning, we walked around the area. The voices of the Moon really had sent us to my home. This area of Stafford, where we'd landed, had been the area of town in which I'd lived for twenty-five years. I wanted to see what had changed in the time, almost five years, since I'd left. I thought Philippa might find it boring, but she was fascinated by the everyday details of my old life. Where had I lived? What was Daddy's school like? The afternoon was spent at Stafford Castle, and Philippa had a grand time in the Visitor Centre where the four-year-old girl had spent ten minutes trying without success to pick up a knight's broadsword. One thing that had changed during my absence was the finished restoration of what I remembered as a half ruined castle. It was possible to wander round the halls and rooms of the 11th Century fortress, and the Halliwell and Newland families spent much of the day exploring antiquity - and sword fighting.
"Liam," requested Prue, "Banish me to the Visitor Centre. I fancy a drink and I noticed they sold them."
I gestured with my hand and Prue disappeared, arriving back five minutes later, with a can of cola for each of us, and two toy swords. She handed one to her niece taking a classic fencing pose, "En garde."
Philippa put up a game fight but was no match for Prue, who beat her niece easily. "Who's next?" she challenged.
A smiling Piper blinked over to her sister, "I challenge you Prue the Blackhearted. I warrant you'll find me harder to best than yon scrawny child. Ow!" The later came as an annoyed Philippa kicked her aunt hard on the shin. Piper bent down, "I'm sorry, but that's how they spoke. Can I borrow your sword?"
Philippa handed her aunt the weapon. Taking up dueling stances, Prue and Piper faced off.
"Get ye back to the kitchen, m' lady Piper," mocked Prue.
"Not before I've skewered you like kebab," came her sister's reply.
"I'd believe I'd like to see that," replied the eldest Halliwell.
Phoebe and I were transfixed, and Philippa was loving every moment. Seeing our looks, Piper winked at us, "Fine. Then I'll demonstrate. Have at you" Piper lunged with the plastic weapon. Prue blocked the attack, and countered with one of her own. They fought for five minutes, equally matched, but slowly Piper seemed to gain the upper hand.
Then Prue cheated. She Doubled. It was her latest power. The ability to clone herself for periods of up to four hours (and getting longer all the time), making it possible for her to really be in two places at once. Now where before there had been one Prue, now there were two, and each held a plastic toy sword, with which they attacked Piper. The middle sister gestured with her hand freezing the area. "So that's how it's gonna be is it?" she asked. "No holds barred."
"Why not?" grinned the Prues. "First to five points?"
"You're on. At three hits, the double goes. Prizes?"
"Winner gets a kiss off their niece. Loser kisses Liam," suggested my loyal wife, giggling.
"Stop being mean to Daddy," demanded Philippa.
"Shut up. This is the only time your mummy is gonna let me kiss someone else," I told my daughter. Then I realized something. Turning to Phoebe I began, "Loser. Why you cheeky…"
Laughing, Piper turned to us. I've frozen the whole castle and hill so we should be safe. If anyone starts coming up the hill, shout out." Piper's original power had grown incredibly strong and she could now freeze and unfreeze extremely large areas. Then turning back to her sister and the double she raised her sword into the en garde position. Prue did the same and the fight was back on.
The Prues attacked, using their numbers advantage to relentlessly harry Piper who was hard pressed to hold of her doubled sister. After a minute of fending off Prue, Piper blinked to her sister's side and thrust with her sword, making contact. "Point!" she announced triumphantly, as Philippa, Phoebe and I cheered.
That set the tone for the fight. Piper blinking all around her sister, and Prue and her double trying to hem her in restricting Piper's movement. Prue wasn't averse to using her telekinesis either, pushing her sister away when she blinked in too close. It was a closely fought duel, the magic making it spectacular, with the participants encouraged by the watching Newland family. It was four all, when Prue gave Piper the opening she sought. Prue scythed her sword through the air. Piper slid her foot forward going low under the sweep, seemingly losing her balance and ending up sitting on the ground. Prue drove her sword downwards and Piper blinked from sitting to standing. Prue had already committed and could do nothing to stop her downwards stroke as a victorious Piper brought her sword to rest on Prue's neck with a cry of, "There can be only one."
Claiming her prize, Piper received a kiss on the cheek and a hug from her niece. A smiling Prue came forward to pay her forfeit, giving me a peck on the cheek. Piper objected, "I'm sorry but she cheated. She has to be punished. Kiss him properly."
Prue looked at Piper, I looked at Phoebe. The two sisters nodded. "Oh well, If I've got to kiss you," began Prue and didn't finish as suddenly she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around my neck, and giving me a kiss that left me struggling for words.
"Hey, I didn't mean for you to enjoy it!" scolded Phoebe. "He's mine."
To prove her point Phoebe grabbed me, kissing me, a kiss that left me, this time struggling for breath. Finally she broke the kiss, and I lifted my wife up, holding her in my arms as I returned the compliment. Ending the kiss, I saw my disgusted daughter looking at us, "What's wrong?"
"Mummy and you. I almost lost lunch."
Philippa suddenly mentioning food made me feel hungry. I looked my watch. Five o'clock. The hotel would be serving dinner. Making a suggestion, which, was unanimously agreed, we headed back to get some.
The next day, we asked Philippa what she wanted to do. After all it was her birthday wish. She asked me what places we could visit, and I surprised myself by remembering nearly all of the nearby tourist attractions. "…And there's Alton Towers, which has loads of scary rides, but you'd be too little to go on most of them, or there's Drayton Manor, which has rides, but also a zoo and dinosaurs, or…"
As soon as I mentioned dinosaurs, Philippa, a Jurassic Park fan who'd seen all three movies shouted, "That one." So Drayton Manor it was. We had a great time. We saw the dinosaurs first, since Philippa refused to do anything else before she saw the dinosaurs. The dinosaurs were life-sized models of the prehistoric creatures, and the T-Rex that was positioned just around a corner so you only saw it at the last minute, gave my usually fearless daughter a real fright. As it turned out, that was the only scare of the day, since the new, and supposedly terrifying "Haunted Dungeon" ride failed to impress the Charmed Ones. Of course, when you've not only banished demons and warlocks, but also braved Prue Halliwell in a bad mood, it takes a lot to scare you. It was a contented Philippa, and a worn out set of adults, (who'd barely been able to keep up with the energetic youngest member of the clan) that fell into bed that night.
We'd not seen the town centre yet, and so the following day we went into Stafford proper. The morning was spent exploring the High House, a three storey Tudor townhouse, right in the middle of the town, which bore the distinction of being the largest surviving example of it's type. We had lunch in the picturesque park, and Philippa fed her crusts to the swans and their cygnets. To her delight the pen, the cob and two of the cygnets were confident enough to take the bread from her hand, although the cob's technique needed some practice, as he nearly took Philippa's finger along with the bread. Then we walked along the river and Philippa spent an hour in the park paddling pool, and another on the nearby play area. Phoebe smiled at me, "She's having the time of her life."
"Me too. I never realized how much I've missed this place. I used to take it for granted. Can you believe I actually complained Stafford had nothing to do? Philippa would think I was daft."
Piper laughed, "You ARE coming back with us, aren't you? You sound like you want to stay."
For a moment, I was almost tempted. Almost. "No, I've had my taste of home."
"It's a great place. I can see why you're so fond of it," put in Prue. "I only have one complaint. It's too English. Everyone drinks tea. I haven't had a decent cup of coffee since we got here!"
"Tell you what, I know a place you'll adore. The Shire Hall Gallery. It's the art galley, which is your metier, and it has a coffee bar where you can choose your preferred blend."
"Mmmm. Sounds like heaven." Spying her niece who was running back to us, Prue got up from the park bench where we were all seated, "Seems like Philippa's had her fun. My turn. Let's go." Laughing, we made our way to the Shire Hall.
Prue was having a great time. We'd spent half an hour just taking it easy over our coffee. Prue had settled on a Decaffeinated Columbian blend, which she'd enjoyed enormously. Now she was roaming the gallery perusing the latest exhibit. Although Piper, Phoebe, and I like a good picture as much as anyone, to us a picture was just that. Ten minutes of Prue waxing lyrical about brushwork, and cubism sent us scurrying off to the preserved Crown Court.
The Shire Hall had at one time been the Crown Court, until it had been converted into the town's Art Gallery and Main Library. One of the Courts, which was very much your stereotypical British courtroom, (so much so that it had been used as the setting for a number of courtroom scenes in various film and TV productions) had been kept for posterity, when the building was converted to its present function.
We spent some minutes looking at the display that related the history of this particular court and some of the more notorious trials that had taken place, and then started looking around the courtroom. Suddenly Philippa froze. Phoebe rushed to her daughter's side. She recognized the signs. She'd experienced them herself often enough. Philippa was having a premonition.
She didn't have premonitions that often. The power mainly manifested itself in the form of realistic dreams, which always left her a bit cranky for an hour after she woke. The vision passed, and Philippa turned to her mother. "Somefin' always happens to ruin our fun." To my surprise she sounded more annoyed than frightened.
"Why darling?" I asked, joining my wife and daughter. "What's wrong?"
Phoebe could link to her daughter's visions, and see what she saw, and it was my wife that answered, "Someone's taken the building. Everyone in it is held hostage. We're going to have company…. Now."
As she finished a man walked into the courtroom. He was about six foot tall and had black hair that contained a natural curl. But it was his face that shocked me. It was long and dark, as if he had a permanent tan, with hard dark eyes, which were almost black. When he saw me his face twisted into a sarcastic grin, "Newland. It's been a long time." I stood face to face with the person who'd made my high school years hellish, a forgotten nemesis named Jagan Peters.
* * * "You son of a bitch." I summoned a baseball bat out of thin air, and lunged at my former tormentor. I struck empty space, and a second later crashed back into the dock. A split second later, I realized that Jagan had blinked out of the way of my lunge, and had thrown an energy blast at me for good measure.
He laughed, "You're a witch! I always knew there was something about you I didn't like. That's why I got at you so much."
"Oh, I'm glad there was a reason," I replied dryly, getting to my feet. "And I always thought you made my life hell because you couldn't get laid."
For a moment Jagan tensed, then relaxed, "Sorry. I'm not biting. You kept your secret hidden well at Brookie."
"I didn't have it then. I'd have knocked you across the sports field if I had."
"Maybe, Maybe not. I did have my powers then. But I wasn't allowed to exercise them. That might have saved your life. Shame!"
Piper decided to intervene, gesturing with her hands. Nothing happened. Jagan's smile grew annoyingly wider, "So you're a witch too! Sorry, but whatever your power is, it won't work, I came across an Immunity Potion, that makes all magical spells and powers useless against me. I nicked the recipe in Cairo. That's what I do. Acquire powerful magical artifacts. I've been all over the world, and never thought the biggest treasure was right here in, what did we call it at school, Newland? Oh yeah, Sh*thole Stafford. But I've said too much."
Jagan crossed to Phoebe, who stood protectively in front of Philippa, my daughter's head poking around her mother's legs so she could see what was going on. "This must be your daughter. She's as beautiful as her mother. You've caught a fox." His lascivious gaze raked my wife, "I don't think you're man enough for this, Newland. I'll take her, like I used to take your lunch money." He leaned in to kiss my beloved. Phoebe waited, and then timing it perfectly, kneed him in the groin. The warlock went down towards the floor. As he did Phoebe followed up with a kick to the jaw, knocking Jagan across the court, landing where his energy blast had deposited me.
"Go ahead," challenged Phoebe, taking a fighting stance, "Try that again." Philippa cheered from behind her mother's back.
Jagan got up, holding his jaw, "OK, I deserved that." Blinking behind Phoebe, and grabbing Philippa by the arm, he instructed, "Now, walking in front of me, exit the courtroom, into the Gallery. Please don't try anything heroic, or I will kill you all."
There was little we could do but obey. For now, my old adversary held all the cards. We entered the Gallery area where all the occupants of the building had been gathered. Three people lay on the floor, and around them more people knelt with open First Aid boxes. "Find a spot, and get comfy. You're gonna be here a long time. And don't try any witch stuff. It won't work. If I even suspect that you're planning something, I'll kill everyone in this place, one by one and make you watch. Your daughter first." He said, roughly shoving Philippa back into Phoebe's arms. With that he turned around and entered the portion of the building that housed the library.
Spying Prue, we joined her in the corner. As we sat down she told us what had happened. "He just blinked in, said an invocation and all the doors and windows slammed shut. A member of staff made a grab for the phone and he blasted her. Two others tried to take him down, with the same result. Luckily he only gave them burns, rather than killing them. I think he's a lone wolf. We could take him."
"No." I told Prue, explaining what had happened during our encounter in the disused court.
Twenty minutes passed. There were several crashes and screams coming from the library. The hostages in the gallery looked nervously at the doors leading to the other half of the building. "What's happening, Daddy?" asked an anxious Philippa.
"I guess he's just getting everyone out of the Library," answered Piper. A moment later her guess was confirmed, as through the doors came about thirty more people, two of them carrying the unconscious form of a staff member who'd tried to reach the alarm.
"Find a spot and get as comfortable as you can," the warlock ordered his new flock of captives. Addressing us all now, he continued, "You're going to be here for the night, so talk quietly amongst yourselves. If I made you stay silent, you'd bore yourselves to death. And I can't negotiate with bodies" One of the hostages laughed. Jagan turned on him, his temper flaring in the same unpredictable manner it had at school, "Did I say I was making a joke? When I want you to laugh, I'll tell you." Calming down, the warlock pointed at two of the people who had been administering first aid to the wounded. "You two. Stand up. Answer me - yes or no. Are you members of staff?"
"Yes."
"Good. You. Come with me. I'm going to phone my ransom demands and I need to be able to prove that I've got all of you." Speaking to the second member of staff he finished, "While I'm gone, you will keep order and make sure no one tries anything. If they do, it will be the last thing you ever see. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good." With that Jagan headed to the top floor administrative area to use the phone.
"It might help if we knew what he was demanding," reasoned Phoebe.
We knew instantly what she meant. Recently, Phoebe had acquired the power of invisibility. Well, almost. She preferred to call it Masking. Somehow she was able to psychically flip the switches in people's minds so they just didn't notice Phoebe was there. If you knew she was, you could still see her, although it was difficult trying to believe your eyes and not your brain. "I don't know how you get up to the top floor." I told her. "Anyway, if that guy sees the door open on its own, he'd jump a mile, and Jagan will know something's up."
"You could banish her there," suggested Piper.
"It's worth a try," agreed Prue
"OK, let's do it." The gallery was partitioned off, with fake walls, dividing the area, and providing more hanging space. In our present position, Jagan's appointed observer couldn't see us. Even if he could, we knew from experience, that Phoebe could fade away in the middle of a crowd and no one would notice her departure. Phoebe closed her eyes, and concentrated. Instantly, where my wife had been, there was nothing. I felt a hand on my shoulder and squinted, tilting my head to the side. A fuzzy image of Phoebe came into focus. I gestured with my hand pointing at the ghostlike figure of Phoebe, and then upwards at the administrative section on the top floor. Then she faded from view once more. I guessed, and that's all it was, that it had worked because no one touched my shoulder.
Ten minutes later, Jagan and the frightened employee returned. Then my wife reappeared in front of me. She'd got back by shadowing the warlock "I'll tell you what he said later. He's going to want a word with you Liam."
Just then, Jagan's voice called, "Newland, stand up." Standing, I waited to hear what he wanted. I didn't have to wait long. "That fetching power of yours. I want you to use it. In thirty minutes I should get a phone call. That means the cops have deposited food and water outside. I want you to get them." He smiled, "Glad you showed up. Otherwise, I'd have had to go outside, and fend off their bloody snipers." I nodded my assent. Half an hour later, the phone rang in the administrative section on the top floor balcony. Jagan blinked up to it, answering the phone. He was back a minute later. "They're on the front steps. Get them now."
A pile of lidded stainless steel containers, each with a ladle handle sticking out of the side, a stack of plates, and two large cutlery trays materialized by the main doors of the Gallery together with a trolley holding jugs full of water and drinking glasses. Quickly, the warlock inspected the contents of the containers, "Chips, shepherd's pie, Liver casserole, vegetarian curry." Then, recruiting two members of staff to place the containers on the reception desk, and serve the meal, Jagan supervised as his hostages queued up for dinner.
As we ate Phoebe told us what she'd found out. "I don't understand it! He wants the original copy of Elizabeth the First's decree, which restored the Assizes to Stafford. That's his only demand, plus he asked for the food. The decree is to be delivered to him in exactly 48 hours, or he'll kill all the hostages.
"We have to go home tomorrow night," pointed out Prue needlessly.
"Even though I hate for warlocks to win, I hope they get it to him before then," said Piper
"Guys. You don't understand. Jagan wants that decree delivered to him at 4.30 pm on 22nd April. Not one minute later. Not one minute before. When I said exactly, I meant - exactly. "
* * * "You're right, darling," I told Philippa, "Something always happens to ruin our fun."
"It's my fault, isn't it?" said my daughter, on the verge of tears, "If I hadn't made that wish…"
Prue hugged her niece, "Honey, that was the best wish you could have ever made your Aunt Piper and I got a holiday. You and Mummy got to see your Daddy's home, and Daddy got to come back one more time to a place he loves." Philippa looked up at her aunt, who smiled, "And now we all get to help him do to that nasty warlock, who was mean to him at school, what you did to Lindsay Barnett, at nursery."
Hearing this, Philippa grinned an evil grin, which was mirrored by that of my wife and sisters-in-law. My fond imaginings of the terrible, and almost certainly deserved, fate of Lindsay Barnett were interrupted by Piper "If we're going to do that, we stand a better chance if we know what he's planning. Liam, you come from this place. Do you know any of the history, specifically about the decree your old school chum is after?"
I thought for a moment, then nodded, "If I remember the story goes that Queen Elizabeth I visited Stafford on one of her tours of the kingdom. She was shocked by the state of lawlessness in the town, and was told that it was because the Assizes no longer came to Stafford. The Assizes were judges who went around the country hearing all of the serious court cases that the local authorities didn't have the power to handle. So the Queen issued a decree ordering the return of the Assizes."
"So why would Jagan want it. Is he a history buff?" asked Phoebe
"No!" I laughed. "He took history, but only cause he thought he could goof around in class."
"He said he was here after a magical artefact," recalled Piper, "What's magical about an Elizabethan proclamation?" Piper looked at Prue. Her sister's face was creased, as she concentrated, trying to recall something. "Prue?"
Prue held up a hand, indicating that she was still thinking. Finally she looked up, "I think I know what he's after. Since I took over Buckland's I've been privately specializing in exotic objects, artifacts with a magical or occult background. It's been useful. There are things out there you wouldn't want a warlock to get their hands on, so when we acquire them, I make sure they get put somewhere safe. Consequently, I've done a lot of reading about occult and magical artifacts throughout history. Any of you heard of a man named John Dee?"
Phoebe had. Her reading hadn't been as specialized as Prue's, but she had read a wide range of books on all aspects of occult matters, giving her an unequalled breadth of knowledge. "He was a mathematician and astrologer, and Queen Elizabeth's occult advisor. Some people say he was her magician but he didn't actually have any powers."
Piper jumped in, "One of the stories says he gave her a trichinobezoar - and believe me, you don't want to know what it is, set in gold, with a unicorn's horn."
"You have been reading the books haven't you?" observed Prue, impressed. "Only, the horn turned out to be ivory. Damn good ivory, but definitely not a unicorn's horn." Ignoring our raised eyebrows she continued where her sisters had left off, "Next question. Anyone know what happened in 1588?"
I knew this one, "The Spanish Armada. King Philip of Spain sent a fleet of ships to invade England. It was defeated by the English fleet. Good thing too. If it had gotten through and the troops had landed, Elizabeth didn't have an army to put against them. They'd have taken England."
"Exactly right," congratulated my sister-in-law. "And Elizabeth and Dee knew it. They knew long before the Armada sailed, that Philip was planning an invasion, and if they didn't stop it at sea, they were doomed. So they had a back up plan." All our eyes were fixed on Prue, as we sensed she was nearing the point of the story. "In 1587, Dee discovered a spell, which he hid in a decree, a normal piece of the everyday ruling of England."
So that's why you think Jagan wants the decree? It's got the spell hidden in it?" I interrupted.
"I don't know," admitted Prue, "The whereabouts of the Great Spell of 1587 is the single biggest mystery in the field of magical artifacts. I think he believes he's solved it. There's no way to be certain. We don't even know the date of the Assizes decree."
"There was a display outside the old courtroom. I remember seeing something about the Assizes," put in Piper. "I'll be right back." She blinked, disappearing and materializing a minute later, "1587." Turning to her elder sister she asked, "So what is the Great Spell of 1587?"
"The magical equivalent of a nuclear bomb." Prue replied ominously.
* * * On that depressing note we went to sleep. It wasn't too late but it had been a long day and Philippa was yawning. Figuring we might as well grab what sleep we could, we tried to get comfortable on the gallery's floor. We slept, but it was a fitful night for all of us, and indeed for all of the hostages. Waking in the morning, Jagan arranged for breakfast to be supplied, again ordering me to summon it. After a bowl of cornflakes we discussed our warlock problem once more.
"We have to assume that spell is what Jagan's after," Phoebe reasoned, going back to the conversation of the night before, "And that it is in the decree."
"He's going to use it," I added quietly. "I know Jagan. He won't be able to resist trying it out. We've got to stop him." I turned, punching the wall, "Damn! This is just like high school all over again. Jagan Peters messing with my life." I turned back, shaking my hand, trying to restore some feeling to it after it was numbed from its impact with the wall. "But it is different. Last time I couldn't stop him. Now I can. We just have to figure out how."
"The big problem is that Potion of Immunity," mused Piper. "It negates our powers."
"Not quite," pointed out Phoebe, "We can't use our powers on him, but I think we can use them to affect him."
"So I could throw something at him, just not throw him?" questioned Prue.
"You could," Piper answered, "I mean we can get around all his spells. He's sealed the doors, but Liam can summon through them. I could probably blink out of here, but while he's got the hostages our hands are tied."
"If only Liam could banish the whole room, we'd be back at the hotel for lunch," laughed Phoebe, as ever injecting some lightness into the proceedings
"I'm not that powerful. Maybe Philippa is," I joked
"I am!" she told us indignantly, "As long as I do it the right way."
"And that would be?" smiled Aunt Prue tolerantly.
"Banish him from the hostages, not the other way round. That's silly."
"You're forgetting the Potion of Immunity, darling," Phoebe said gently, "You'd need a lot of power to break that."
"More than the Power of Three?" asked my daughter, disbelievingly.
"But everyone would see. We're supposed to keep it a secret, remember," explained Piper.
Philippa looked at her aunt, at all of us if we'd gone mad, before bursting out, "So what? He's been throwing magic about like David Copperfield. And anyway this isn't our weality, we're going home tonight!"
We looked at each other, mentally kicking ourselves for not realizing that all along. Piper hugged her niece, "Philippa, you're wonderful."
Prue looked at her youngest sister, "Phoebe, you said back at the hotel for lunch, well it's already 10am, and they stop serving at 2pm. Get busy with the spell writing."
While Phoebe worked out a spell to negate Jagan's immunity, the three of us, along with my precocious daughter, worked out a plan of attack. Ninety minutes later, a spell written and a plan formulated, we were ready.
The Charmed Ones began:
"Far from home
Wanting to return
But first a lesson
This warlock must learn
Let his Immunity vanish
His Protection flee
From our powers now
He has no safety."A glowing orange light surrounded Jagan, remaining for about ten seconds before disappearing. Jagan looked over to us and saw the Halliwells holding hands in a circle, "You bitches. What did you just do?" Spreading his fingers, and holding his hand palm outwards, he prepared to unleash an energy blast. "I warned you not to try…"
Just as he was about to use his power, Piper froze him, as we planned, just in case Jagan tried to harm the hostages when he realized what had happened. I ran to the frozen figure, grabbed the warlock and banished us both from the Shire Hall.
* * * We materialized on a sports field. The sports field of Brook High School to be exact, the place where Jagan had delighted in tormenting me in our formative years. As he unfroze, he looked around disorientated. I gave him a moment to realize where he was, before saying, "Welcome back to Brook High School, a place that saw some spectacular kickings of my ass by you. Now it's your turn."
"I can still take you, Newland," snarled Jagan.
"Try it!" I challenged.
Taking up my challenge, the warlock launched an energy blast that screamed towards me. I banished it, making it hit the ground not more than three feet away from the warlock. Jagan threw another energy blast, and again I banished it. The blast hit the ground at his feet, making him jump backwards. I smiled, "The same thing twice? But then again, you were never all that imaginative. For four years all the insults you used were variations on a theme. Do you know how boring that got? Well, I hope you've more magic tricks than insults, 'cause the next one hits you!"
Trying a different trick, Jagan used his power to throw lightning that arced from his hand. I banished myself out of it's path. Launching another energy blast, he blinked, putting himself out of the way of my redirection of his power. Then he tried blinking in quick succession, hurling an energy bolt each time so that at one point I had four energy bolts heading for me. I summoned them all into one place about five feet in front of me. The effect of summoning four energy bolts into the same place was to combine them into a massive ball of crackling magical energy. Seeing this, Jagan was out of ideas. He blinked, making a run for it.
Unlike Prue, Piper and Phoebe, I hadn't acquired any new powers, but the one I possessed had grown remarkably strong. Somehow I didn't mind. In it's present form, my power was more like two anyway. The summoning and banishing aspect gave me a modicum of Prue's telekinesis, but over a longer distance, albeit without the infinite control that Prue had gained. Being able to banish myself as well also meant that I could blink, in all but name. It was stronger than Piper's blinking power. In order to blink to a location, she had to know where it was. A similar limitation also got in the way of Philippa's fun, but for the past year, it hadn't gotten in the way of mine. My power had expanded so that I could seek out objects, places and people, then use my power on them as I required. I could summon anything from virtually anywhere, and although summoning people was harder, I could always banish myself to them. Finding Jagan, I did just that.
I appeared behind him, grabbing his shoulder. "Sorry, that won't work either" I smiled, banishing us to where I'd arranged to meet my wife and her sisters, so they could do a vanquishing spell. I should have taken Jagan there straight away, but couldn't resist getting some payback.
As we materialized, Jagan pushed me to the floor, shouting, "Peto! Perdo!" He let fly with a massive ball of magical energy that headed straight towards my family. I banished it back at him, but as it doubled back on itself, Jagan laughed, "It's a Seeker, Newland."
As the fireball raced toward my daughter, wife and sisters-in-law, so did my thoughts. I couldn't banish all four of my family. I wasn't yet that powerful and I guessed that Jagan's conjuration would just follow them. Then I remembered my daughter's four-year-old's logic. If you can't move what you want, move something else.
I waited until the last moment, then banished Jagan so he was barely two feet away from the three women and the child targeted by his magic, which headed straight for its quarry slamming into the warlock, now barring its path. He screamed, as fire coruscated all over his body, and then completely consumed him.
While Phoebe and Piper comforted Philippa, Prue turned to me, "What happened to the plan?"
"I changed it."
"I noticed. You almost got your daughter killed," shouted a furious Prue. "And seeing a warlock barbecued not two feet away doesn't help either."
I answered, "I know. It was stupid. But I needed to do it. For four years he told me I was no good. That I'd never be able to beat him at anything. You start to believe something if you hear it enough. Seeing him just brought it all back. I couldn't leave without finding out if he was right."
Prue looked at me, "I guess I was lucky. I was never bullied. Even when I was a kid, I was too much of a bitch. But I think I know what you mean. I guess it was a demon you had to exorcise. But you should have told us."
Pulling away from her mother and aunt, Philippa ran towards me. I scooped her up and held her, "Are you OK?"
Philippa nodded, "But I'm hungry, and tired. That floor was hard."
I smiled, then with my daughter on my back, I led the way across the field where we climbed over the back gates of the school and walked the short distance back to the hotel. After a delicious lunch, we all caught up with the sleep we'd missed last night. After dinner in the restaurant, we went to our rooms and started packing for the journey home. I turned on the TV. "Everyone, get in here," I shouted. Phoebe ran in with Philippa, and Prue and Piper rushed into my room from their own.
"What's up?" asked a concerned Piper.
I grinned, and pointing at the TV replied, "Nothing. Just look." It was an episode of Charmed. The first one I'd seen in five years and the first one Prue, Piper, Phoebe and Philippa had ever seen. It was a rerun, a repeat of Season One's, "The Witch Is Back". Watching themselves on television was great fun. The sisters enjoyed the reminder of their ancestor, Melinda Warren's visit, and of course Philippa wanted to do the Summoning spell as we soon as we got back home.
Speaking of home, it was time to go. We checked out of our rooms, and crossing the road, made our way back to the clearing in Crow's Wood. As we walked through the trees Philippa asked, "Have I got the great cheekbones?"
"Great cheekbones?" questioned a puzzled Piper.
"Melinda said Warrens had great cheekbones. Have I got 'em?"
Smiling at my daughter, I replied "No. You've got the Newland cheekbones."
Prue couldn't resist, "Well, at least it wasn't the big nose."
My planned comments about how Phoebe's life and my own would be a lot easier if it weren't for certain temper and stubbornness traits in the gene pool were prevented by our arrival at the clearing.
There was a crescent moon in the sky. Then it changed, becoming a half, then three quarter and finally a full moon, which like the previous time grew larger and brighter, filling the clearing with a white light. The light started to fade and when it was gone, the familiar surroundings of the Halliwell's attic met our gaze. Out of the window, a full moon shone briefly over the bay, then a second later it was a crescent shape. Under her breath, Philippa said, "Thank you," and Piper echoed the sentiment on seeing an intact Book of Shadows.
"Sorry, your wish went wrong, Philippa," I told my daughter, "At least most of it was fun."
Philippa smiled, "I liked it all. The bit in the museum was exciting. You never let me see when you do a warlock." In a voice that indicated the near impossible had been achieved, she confided, "How you got Jagan was even better than Lindsay Barnett!"
Thoughtfully, Prue said, "I'm not sure it was that good."
"Certainly as good," opined Phoebe.
"I don't know," disagreed Piper, "Banishing him the way Liam did was probably more evil."
My curiosity got the better of me. I had to ask. "Philippa. Darling, what DID you do to Lindsay Barnett?"
