Diane stared at the gate which stretched across the wide driveway and towered over her. She gazed past it, her eye following the two lines of perfectly manicured juniper trees towards the looming mansion in the distance. She did not feel the same sense of creepy dread as she had at the church. Instead, she felt out of her league, glimpsing into a world upon which she had no business intruding.

Ned stepped up to her and whistled. "Some digs, huh? No wonder the family's squabblin' over it."

Richie peered between the bars of the gate and frowned. "That's bullshit. His family's probably got more money than God. Fighting over shit like this is what they do for fun."

Diane turned away from the gate. "Either way, I just want to get this done. I thought there was an intercom or something around ... here it is."

It was mounted to a post on the left side of the gate. She had to bend over a bit to speak into it, as it was designed for people seated in a car. She pressed the button and cleared her throat. "Um ... uh, hi ... I ..."

She trailed off as she heard something whir above her head. She glanced up and saw a security camera turning her way. "Yes, may I help you?" came a bright voice with a trace of a Texas accent over the speaker.

"Um, yes, I hope so. I, uh, I was told you were expecting us. Three teenagers that would visit this--"

"Oh, yes, indeed! Right on time. Please, if y'all would stand in view of the camera for a moment?"

"Yes, of course," Diane said, her voice gushing relief. She glanced at the others, and they stepped over to her. Richie thrust his hands into his pockets, which suited Diane just fine. She had worried he would flip off the camera like she had seen him do to cameras in the mall.

"Sure enough, you gotta be the Good Lord's folks who were to come today."

Richie smirked. "The Good Lord's folks?" he sniggered. "What the f -- hey!"

Ned had nudged him hard with his elbow. "Cool it, old hoss."

Richie rubbed his side. "Shit that elbow of yours is bony. You should register that thing as a lethal weapon or something."

"Is something the matter?" asked the kindly voice.

"No, nothing," Diane said after shooting a glare at Richie. "If you could let us in, please, we won't take too long."

She wished she had asked Cassie just how much she had told the man of what they needed to do. Before she could rack her brains for a suitable excuse, there was a buzz and a click, and the gate slowly swung open.

"There you go, little lady," the voice drawled. "I'll meetcha at the front door."

"Thank you," Diane said, her voice quavering as she walked with the others down the driveway. "I just realized something. Where do we go once we're in the house? We can't just try each room, not a place that big."

"Place this big likely has an office," Ned said. "If this Charles dude did meet with Heather's Mom, he'd prolly do it there. Or if that don't work, start in the entry hall and I figger the visions will show ya which way they went ... no?"

Richie had started shaking his head. He paused, looking vaguely embarrassed, then spoke in a softer voice. "Look, don't go telling everyone, but I sorta play around with this power a bit sometimes. I pick up random things and see what I get. It's like I get only important stuff, or stuff that's sorta continuing the same story as the last one."

"Huh, yeah, that makes sense," Ned said.

"And it explains why the visions have been close together so far," Diane said. "Just like chapters of a story."

"Yeah, otherwise, ya would jus' get visions all the time."

"Which I don't fucking want anyway," Richie declared. "I don't want this to be like some fucking TV set I can't turn off."

"Heh, sorta like telescreens inta the past."

"Huh? Tele-what?"

Ned rolled his eyes. "Ya need ta expand yer literary horizons more, mate. Go pick yerself up a copy of Nineteen Eighty-Four one of these days."

Diane's eyes darted around her. Everything seemed larger than life, dwarfing her by both stature and their place in some unseen but very tangible hierarchy. Even the front door of the mansion was large enough to admit them walking side-by-side with a fourth riding on their shoulders. For a moment she was reminded of the old sci-fi movie Forbidden Planet and the ultra-wide doorways of the Krell, and was almost surprised when the door opened to reveal a very ordinary-sized human being.

The man beamed at them. "Good afternoon and may God bless and keep you," he said in a sunny voice. "Won't you come in, please?"

He stepped back and opened the door wide. Richie snickered but subsided after a glare from Ned. Diane let the others step inside first before following. She wished she could be at ease as much as Ned. While he gawked as much as she did, he seemed almost comfortable in the presence of all this luxury.

Not that the place was at the height of its glory. The lighting was subdued. Most of the windows were shuttered. Despite the bright sunlight outside, the inside was as dark and sepulchral as a mausoleum.

"Is there any particular point of interest I can direct you fine folks to?" said the guard as he closed the door behind him. "Or do you need just a general tour of the place?"

Diane looked at the others, but they appeared to be deferring to her. "Um, could you take us to Mr. Remmer's old office?"

The guard's eyebrows rose. "You really want to go there?"

Diane's heart sank. "Is that a problem?"

"Oh, not at all. I was told to give you folks free run of the place. Just ... that particular room tends to be the last place even the family wants to see."

"Why's that?"

"Well, y'see, that's where the poor fellow -- may he rest in peace with the Good Lord -- well, met his end."

Diane's eyes widened, and she shivered. "Oh."

"People say the room has a bad vibe. Oh, not that I ever believed in that hooey. Here, let me show you there."

Ned stepped up to Diane as she followed the man. He leaned in and said in a very low voice, "Now I see why Cassie was upset. Practically made him born-again."

Diane's mouth dropped open. "She what? How? I mean, she didn't appear to him as an angel or something, did she?"

Ned cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh, wow," Diane breathed in both shock and -- she had to admit -- admiration.

Richie snickered. Ned elbowed him again and turned it into a low, grunting "fuck you."

Diane looked around and realized she suddenly had no idea where she was. The place seemed like a maze as they took a fourth (fifth?) turn. He finally stopped before a wide, elegant door of dark mahogany. A gold plaque in its middle gleamed, the words "Charles Remmer, Esq." inscribed in flowing black script.

Now Diane truly felt like she was about to step into a tomb.

The guard hesitated, as if he felt the same bad vibe he had only just a moment ago dismissed. "Well, um, this is the place. I suppose it's probably none of my business what you'll be doing here."

He looked expectantly among the three. Diane hoped either Ned or Richie would come up with something, but they remained silent. Diane said nothing simply because she could think of nothing plausible.

The guard offered a small smile. "Anyway, I guess I'll leave you to it. Just come find me when you're done. Just down the hall, left, another left." He hesitated again, then headed away, giving them one last backwards glance.

"I don't like it, I think he's starting to doubt all this," Diane said in a hushed voice when he disappeared around the corner.

"Nah, I think he was jus' fishin'. Cassie put enough of the fear of God in 'im that--"

"You really have to fucking tell me what she did to the guy," Richie said.

"Later. An' yer losin' something there, buddy."

"What? Oh. Thanks."

Diane turned her head in time to see Ned pointing to something on Richie's person, and Richie shoving something further down into his pocket. Diane thought she saw the neck and cap of a small glass bottle before it disappeared into the bulging pocket of Richie's jacket.

"Anyway, let's go," Ned said. "We got a date with the past."

Ned did as Diane hoped he would, he stepped past her and opened the door. For a moment Diane swore she saw a dead body slumped over the desk, but it was just a shadow. The place did not smell musty as she had expected. Everything was clean and neat, the wood surfaces polished.

"So this was where Victor's Vice-Poobah worked," Ned drawled as he looked around.

"Fuck, this place is almost as big as a classroom back at school," Richie said.

Diane stepped towards the desk, her eyes darting over the items arrayed around the workspace. She tilted her head as she saw a spot on the desk which had apparently missed the cleaning regime, a vaguely round, faintly red-black ...

"Oh dear!" Diane cried, stumbling back, her hand over her pounding heart.

"Whatsamatter?!" Richie cried, racing up to her.

"I think I know," Ned said. He stepped up to the desk and ran a finger through the stain.

Diane's stomach flipped, as if expecting his finger to come back shining red with blood. "L-let's just get this done and get out of here, okay?" She thrust her hand into her pocket and yanked out the pendant. "Here, Richie, please."

She smacked her hand against his, the pendant squeezed between them, and reality shifted.

Diane was never more grateful to slip into a replay of past life. The drapes were open, milky sunlight silhouetting the man sitting in the chair until her eyes adjusted. Her heart skipped a beat when she discerned Charles Remmer, looking much as she remembered save for his distinct lack of gray hair. He carried himself with a business-like air, though perhaps a little more haughty than she had remembered.

"Miss Donovan," Charles began as he played with a gold-plated comb. Diane caught the name "Remmer" inscribed upon it. He leaned back in his chair. "While I appreciate the return of the comb, I find your interest in why it was found at that location a bit ... unsettling."

"Why is that, Mr. Remmer?" came a voice so close to Diane's side that she nearly jumped. Both she and Richie backed up and saw Penny sitting in a chair facing the other side of the desk. "I haven't accused you of anything."

Charles hands froze for a moment before he set the comb aside. "And is that meant to imply that an accusation is forthcoming?"

"Not at all. I just perceived that maybe you thought one was."

"Then we can consider the matter closed. I thank you for the return of the comb. It is indeed an heirloom, and I was most distressed to lose it." He stood. "The maid can show you--"

Penny had not moved from her seat. "But you still haven't answered my question, Mr. Remmer. Why were you at the cemetery?"

Charles paused, his eyes cloudy. He slowly sat down and folded his hands.

"She's got you fucking nailed to the wall, you asshole," Richie muttered.

Diane felt his fingers tighten around her hand. She had forgotten this was the man behind Melinda's capture by the cult.

"And you do not call that an accusation?" Charles said, though in a less haughty voice.

"I apologize, Mr. Remmer, I tend to be very direct and sometimes it comes out wrong," Penny said. "Let me rephrase it. While you were there, did you see anything unusual?"

Charles tilted his head. "And what could possibly be going on at that location that would be unusual?"

"Because something very unusual did take place there last year. A sixteen-year-old girl was buried there under mysterious circumstances."

Charles flinched slightly. Diane saw it, and whipped her head towards Penny. "She saw it too!" Diane cried.

"Yeah, the fucker was as bad at lying back then as now," said Richie. "Or was. You know what I mean."

"And, no, I am not accusing you of doing anything or knowing anything about it," Penny said, though in a very neutral tone of voice. "Let me explain. I'm a researcher of paranormal and supernatural phenomena--"

One of Charles' lips curled. "A Ghostbuster, in other words."

"Please, Mr. Remmer, kindly don't insult my intelligence."

Charles' smile vanished.

"Owned!" Richie cried.

"I've gathered evidence that some sort of strong supernatural event was centering around Stephanie Fowler right before she died. Thus I cannot help but think the two events are related."

"And what does this have to do with me?" Charles demanded, though Diane thought she heard a slight quaver to his voice. "Why do you think I have anything to do with this?"

"I don't, but I need to track down any leads I have. Please, Mr. Remmer, if you remember anything that you might have seen in that area, or close to the abandoned church--"

Charles twitched.

The corners of Penny's mouth rose slightly. "--I would be very grateful, as I am sure the grieving parents would be as well."

"And I suppose you do not believe the official police reports," Charles said, his voice stiff. "That she ran away from home and died tragically in a barn fire just outside town?"

Penny paused. "Let's just say I believe the reports to be incomplete. Mr. Remmer, it is clear you were at the cemetery close to when Stephanie was laid to rest."

"I never said that!" Charles cried.

"The very first thing you said to me when you laid eyes on the comb was that you had lost it 'nearly a year ago.' Since it was found at the cemetery--"

"So you claim!"

"--then you were there about the time of the funeral or perhaps within the week or two following. Sometimes the dead leave a Presence behind--"

Diane gasped. "She knew about that!"

"--causes manifestations of unusual phenomena which can give clues as to the final moments of--"

Charles shot to his feet. "That's quite enough!"

Penny sat in still silence for a few moments, as if intending to test how much force Charles would bring to bear upon her. She slowly stood and gave him an even look. "I take it this audience is over."

"It should have been over the moment you handed me the comb! It was against my better judgment that I let you come in. I am not sure what came over me, to be honest. But enough is enough."

Diane thought this odd. Why would Charles have doubted why he let her in? Her impression of the man had been that he did nothing unless it made sense.

"Would you at least consider Stephanie's parents for a moment?" Penny said in a somber voice.

Diane's skin tingled for so brief a moment that she did not realize what had happened at first. She looked at Charles, whose eyes shimmered, his mouth opening briefly but nothing coming forth.

"They're as confused as they are devastated by the death of their daughter," Penny continued. "Any sort of information would be a great solace to them. I have a feeling you might be able to provide that solace."

Diane felt the tingling again. She glanced from Charles back to Penny. Was Charles trying to influence her like Victor had? Surely he already knew that she was immune to that power.

"I-I ... There's nothing I could ... S-Stephanie is ..." Charles stammered. He blinked rapidly for a few seconds before his face twisted into a scowl. "Kindly leave right now, Miss Donovan, or I will summon the authorities and have you arrested for trespassing. Good day."

Penny hesitated, her penetrating eyes meeting his shimmering ones. Without a word, she turned and headed towards the door.

Diane blinked when Penny faded back into the past and Ned appeared in her stead. "Back so soon?" he said. "Didja get what ya wanted?"

"I'm not sure," Diane said. She summarized what she had seen.

"Huh," said Ned.

"She had his fucking number all right," Richie growled. "She knew what an asshole he was right from the start."

"Yeah, talk 'bout yer intuition. Amazin' that she even got him ta talk ta her at all."

"He did say he wasn't sure why he did it," Diane said. "Which I thought was really strange."

"Likely he jus' had a guilty conscience. It was less than a year after the whole shebang went down. Always got the sense from the dude that he never liked what had happened."

"I really wish I knew what happened after that," Diane said. "I mean, he probably talked to Victor to tell him that Penny was a threat. I thought I felt Charles try to influence her like Victor had, so now he knows she's immune to it if he didn't before."

"That's kinda odd. Ya figger Victor woulda let 'im in on that soon as he knew."

"What's there to figure out?" Richie demanded. "She nailed him to the fucking wall. Didn't take a genius to know the guy is a slimeball."

Diane turned to him. "Richie, is there any way we can know what happened later?"

"Only if you got something that either Charles or Victor was holding."

Diane sighed and looked around the room. Everything had appeared different in the past. Even the drapes had been different. Everything except ...

Diane stepped forward, trying to keep her eyes away from the stain. "What about the desk? I'm almost positive it was the exact same desk I just saw. Would Charles touching it be enough?"

Richie considered and shrugged. "Dunno. Sometimes it is, sometimes not."

"An' they might not have had their little meeting here," Ned said.

"But it's worth trying, isn't it?" Diane said. "The worse that could happen is that we don't see anything, right?" She stuffed the pendant in her pocket and took Richie's hand. "Richie, please, touch the desk and see if this will work."

Richie looked mildly annoyed, his eyes flicking over the old stain. He sighed and nodded. Diane squeezed her fingers tight around his hand as he reached out and grasped a corner of the desk with his other hand.

At first Diane did not think anything had happened, as the lighting had not changed. Then she saw the younger Charles sitting in the chair with his hands folded before him on the desk. The drapes had been drawn across the nighttime window, and low lights burned in the room.

A shadow passed on the left, and she nearly flinched when she saw Victor step past her, his hands folded behind his back.

"I don't like this, Victor," Charles said in a quavering voice. "How does she know anything about what happened to Stephanie?"

Victor stood before a bookcase which was no longer there in the present, his eyes perusing the spines of the volumes. "I suspect she is exactly what she claims to be," Victor said in a calm, unperturbed voice. "A paranormal investigator who actually has a talent for the job."

Charles' eyes widened. "You mean ... she has some form of psychic powers?"

"Rudimentary at best." Victor turned towards Charles. "I suspect she does not truly understand she has them. Much like Lydia."

"You had told me she was immune to your influence."

Then why did you try it yourself? Diane thought in confusion.

"I did not think that would extend to granting her additional abilities," Charles continued.

Victor stepped away from the bookcase. "In general, it does not. She is an exception."

Charles shook his head. "It's bad enough things went awry with poor Stephanie ... excuse me, I mean Lydia. I absolutely hate the ruse we had devised for that. Now this woman threatens to reveal the deception and destroy everything we've been doing here!"

"Yeah, ain't that a fucking crying shame," Richie growled.

"Considering it took someone with latent psychic powers to uncover anything, we should congratulate ourselves on a job well done." Victor's eyes narrowed. "And even then she was abetted by clumsiness."

Charles lowered his head. "I am sorry about that, Victor. The moment I knew the comb was missing, I should have looked for it. I was just so afraid someone would see me at the cemetery and then truly suspect I had some part in it."

"Your paranoia is usually an asset to me, but this time it was a liability. I have done some research on Miss Penelope Donovan, likely soon to be Mrs. Penelope Sovert. She has little influence in this town despite what I suspect of her abilities."

"Wait, what did he mean by--?" Diane started.

"Normally I would let her twist in the wind and frustrate herself by finding nothing more of value."

"But she knows about the church!" cried Charles. "What if she shows up there on Halloween? If she's immune to your power, and she finds the trap door, she'll see the ritual for what it is!"

"I have already arranged a contingency. Sometime around six in the evening, a tractor trailer carrying pesticide will have an unfortunate accident and overturn on Old Fairview after the ceremony has begun. The local authorities will cordon off the entire area for hazmat cleanup. Miss Donovan will not be able to get within a half mile of the church."

Charles let out a sigh of relief. "Still, I don't like having to do such elaborate schemes to take care of one person. Do you believe she would lose interest after that and not bother us next year?"

"Normally, I would agree," Victor said. He looked off into the distance. "But my benefactor believes otherwise."

"Your ...? Oh," Charles said in a small voice.

Diane's eyes widened. The Harbingers had no idea how far back his association with the Darkness had gone. Jason had suspected it must have been a long time, for how else would it have accepted Victor's presence?

Charles wrung his hands. "Victor, I've always doubted your association with that--"

"Nevertheless, it is an established one, and you will cease complaining about it," Victor said in a cool voice. "As I was saying, my benefactor believes she could become a greater threat."

"What?!" Diane cried.

"Wow, she fucking had them shaking in their boots, huh?" Richie said with a smirk.

"--a threat as well?!" Charles cried, his eyes agape. "My God, just what can she do that we don't know about?"

Victor hesitated, a very small frown creasing his face for a moment. "It is not forthcoming in that detail. To be honest, it is sometimes more paranoid than even you. I find it easier to acquiesce to it than to reason with it."

Diane's head was spinning. The Darkness believed Penny was some sort of threat? It was almost too surreal. Did she battle against the Darkness and lose, much like Elizabeth had? Was the idea she gave herself willingly to the Darkness just so much disinformation?

"But how can we do anything if she will not respond to your influence?" Charles asked.

Victor headed towards the door. He opened it and turned his head to one side. "You may come in now."

He stepped back, and Jo entered to a gasp from Diane.

"I knew it! I knew it!" Richie said. "Didn't I tell you that fucking bitch was with them from the goddamn start?!"

Jo folded her hands demurely as Victor shut the door behind her. "Yes, Glorious One, what did you wish of your humble servant?" Jo said in a low voice, her eyes downcast.

"You may dispense with those trappings," Victor said in an even voice. "I know of your lack of divine faith in me, and you have no need to maintain the illusion in private."

Jo lifted her head, and a sly gleam replaced her false obsequiousness. "I have a feeling I know what this is about, Victor. My sister is being a pest again, isn't she?"

"To be fair, she was abetted by circumstance. I am charging you with the duty to take care of this permanently. I want her out of Haven by this time next year."

Jo looked pensive. "You do realize that my rudimentary abilities will not work on her when your greater power does not?"

Diane let out a despondent sigh. Now she knew why Melinda was so far under her thumb. It was not just the trigger left by the cult; she had an amount of mind control ability as well.

"Then you will need to resort to more mundane powers of persuasion," Victor said. "However you get it done does not concern me. I simply do not want to trouble myself with it anymore. I have far more important things to do."

"Agreed," said Jo. "I'll take care of it."

Charles sighed. "I suspect you will have your work cut out for you. My brief exposure to that infernal woman shows her to be very persistent."

Jo smiled. "You will be surprised how easy it is to manipulate her emotionally. All you need is the right words and the right setting. It's how I managed to get her to agree to let me in on her little business venture after so many years of sibling rivalry."

"Fucking bitch," Richie growled.

"She's getting married next year," Jo said. "And she's told me she wants children. I just have to convince her how bad it would be to have David give up his lucrative job in Denver and how hard it would be for her to maintain the business long-distance. I'll do it while we're standing in the exact spot in Haven that she and David found so romantic."

"Where?!" Diane cried. "Where is it?!"

"Very well," Victor said. "I will leave this to you."

"But where is the place?" Diane demanded. "Where is -- dammit!"

"Something the matter?" Ned said as the present shimmered back into place.

Diane told him what she had seen.

"I was right all along," Richie said. "That fucking cunt. She was behind the whole thing."

"We have to find out where Jo was talking about, Ned," Diane said. "If they did have a conversation there, it might reveal more. Obviously Penny did not move away as Victor had wanted her to. And maybe we can figure out why the Darkness thought her a threat."

Ned nodded. "Hokay. I'll see what I can drill outta Heather. Mebbe her mother mentioned it at some point. Most parents yammer 'bout that sorta stuff at least once ta their kids." He shook his head. "Wow, this is gettin' ta be a bigger an' bigger barrel o' worms, ain't it?"

"Actually, let me handle this one. I still have lunch with Heather every day, and, frankly, that's the kind of thing girls tend to talk about more than boys." Diane sighed and nodded. "And, yes, this is getting much bigger than I anticipated."

Cassie decided not to share her experience the night before with Debby, thus much of the time waiting for the others was spent in nervous small talk. Neither could stop glancing at the three glasses upon the coffee table containing three equal doses of the potion.

The pretense was dropped when Cassie asked the question she was sure Debby was dreading. "Have you decided what to do with the third dose, Mrs. Radson?"

Debby sighed and stared at the glasses. "Again, I really wish this made only two, but I suppose Elizabeth liked to stick to the theme of three whenever she could. I thought of keeping a third dose as backup, but that doesn't really make sense considering its limited shelf life."

"How long does one dose last?"

"About five days. So if you take it today, you will have until Tuesday at the latest to rescue Jason."

"Monday," Cassie said, a slight quaver in her voice. "I'll do it on Monday. That would give me tomorrow and the weekend to, well, build up energy."

Debby gave her a wan smile. "You and Ned are free to use the room upstairs once you take the potion. I am going to try to find some way to get Bill and Susan out of the house over the weekend so you'll have time then as well."

Cassie nodded as her pussy warmed at the prospect, having gone without sex longer than it ought. "Mrs. Radson, what are the consequences of someone taking the potion, then trying to rescue someone but failing?"

"I don't know. Elizabeth was not very forthcoming in that area."

"But do you think it's possible that they could be taken into the Darkness?"

"I would have to say yes to be on the safe side."

Cassie gave Debby a despondent look. "Then I better tell you this now before the others get here. Richie has been talking like he expects to be given a dose of the potion. It's pretty much a given with him right now."

Debby nodded. "Yes, I was afraid of that. He's so desperate to free his mother. I don't know if even this could help him, considering how far under his mother seems to be."

"He thinks he can handle it," Cassie said, trying not to sound like she was advocating for him. She absolutely did not want the responsibility of making this decision. "He does have a kind of link to his father. He claims it's helped him resist before."

"Yes, but that partial split in his psyche still bothers me."

"I know, I can feel it, too, like there are two people in his head, but the other is not his father. Do you have any idea what's causing it?"

Debby looked thoughtful. "I think we have exhausted all supernatural causes and need to turn to something more mundane. While I was racing about getting supplies and asking other Witches for advice on preparing some of the ingredients, I asked about this as well. Many of them said it may represent a more mundane mental imbalance."

Cassie was relieved to hear that no outside malevolent force was at work but was not comforted by the idea that he might be suffering from a mental disorder. "Goodness, you don't mean something like schizophrenia or--"

"Oh, Goddess, no," Debby said, squeezing Cassie's hand. "I'm sorry if I alarmed you. This is more like a very strong inner conflict, like he's at war with himself. Likely something he doesn't want to recognize."

"But ... can someone like that safely take the potion?"

"Again, I don't know. But if I err on the side of caution, I fear I will alienate Richie from me at best and from all of you at worst."

Cassie came close to saying Debby should just give him the potion, and she sensed Debby wanted her proclamation to that effect, but she again refused to pick up this mantle.

Debby picked up one of the glasses, and Cassie held her breath. From what she sensed, she wondered if Debby were considering hiding the third glass and claiming there were only two doses. Cassie would be forced to follow along, as guilty as that would make her feel to outright deceive Richie.

The doorbell rang, and to Cassie's relief, Debby put down the glass to answer the door.

Diane and Ned had arrived, and Debby let them in through the garage so they could store their bikes. "Huh," Ned said as his eyes fell on the three glasses. "I take it that ain't iced tea."

"No, and please, no one touch them until I hand them out," Debby said in a stern voice. Diane nodded absently and took a seat, her eyes still fixed on the doses. "Is Richie coming?"

"Yeah, he should be comin' 'round the back way," Ned drawled as he fell into a seat next to Cassie. "Take 'em a bit since he's gotta maneuver his bike."

Cassie drew herself close to Ned, though his presence did little to settle her pounding heart. She looked up when Richie barreled into the room, one hand stuffing something further down into a pocket of his jacket, leaving a great bulge. Cassie assumed it was the baseball until he saw another round bulge in the other pocket.

Richie paused as he gazed down at the three glasses. "So ... that's it?"

"Yes, Richie, and please don't touch it yet," Debby said, her hand hovering over them as if she expected Richie to snatch one up and quaff it right there.

"Yeah, okay," Richie said. His eyes never left them as he grabbed a chair from the dining room and turned it around before straddling it. "Looks like liquid shit anyway."

"Actually, the taste should not be too bad," Debby said as she picked up one of the glasses. Cassie heard the quaver in her voice and felt the anxiety behind it. The taste was obviously the least of her worries. "I want everyone to listen to me closely. Do not do anything until I am finished. Cassie, Diane, and Richie, you're all going to take one of the glasses in hand. You will not drink it until I tell you to. If something happens and I tell you to either stop or put it down, you will do as I say. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mrs. Radson," Cassie chimed.

"Yes, that's clear," Diane said, her own voice quavering.

"So we're gonna have to drink it right here?" Richie said.

"Yes, Richie, right here," Debby said. "I don't want the potion to leave my sight."

Richie nodded slowly. Debby looked away, and Cassie saw him lay his hand against that bulge she originally thought was the baseball. His eyes fell on her, and he snatched his hand away from the pocket.

Cassie's heart sank as both body language and empathy told her that Richie was about to do something incredibly foolish.

"I'll try to describe what you'll feel," Debby said. "It will seem like a sort of heightened awareness. Like your hearing had been dulled for a long time and then suddenly everything was loud again. Or everything was dim and gray and then suddenly bright and colorful."

"What about that thing about the mind splitting?" Diane asked in a nervous voice. "How does that feel?"

"My understanding is that doesn't really come into play until someone tries controlling you."

"Then we won't know if it works until that point," Diane said in a despondent voice.

Debby gave her a sad look and nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. But when it does happen, you'll know it. You'll be able to sense the split nature of your psyche." She looked at Diane. "I hate telling you this, Diane, but if somehow Jason manages to corner you and try to control you ... you need to let it happen."

Diane's eyes widened. "But I thought this potion--!"

"Yes, it protects you. You'll feel a little like you're two people. One is being controlled, the other has stepped back and can observe."

"But I can also take control back, right?"

"Yes, but if you do while Jason is still there, he'll know what happened."

"He has knowledge of the potion, Diane," Cassie said. "Even though he believed it was a dead end when he started going to the Inn, if you suddenly come out of it, he'll put two and two together and realize we actually did create it."

"Okay, I get it," Diane said, though her voice was strained. "I-I have to play the part while he's there, then when he's gone, I can stop acting like that, right?"

"Look, don't sweat it, okay?" Richie said. "I'm not gonna let him near you. I'm gonna be with you whenever you're out."

"Likewise for me, right, Mrs. Radson?" Cassie said. "When I go to confront him, I have to let him control me until I'm ready to try and free him."

Debby nodded. "Yes, that's right."

"But then how do I actually do that part? How do I get him back?"

Debby put down the glass. "From what Elizabeth described, you have to will yourself into his head, and you will have to confront the controlling influence directly. It will be sort of a mental battleground. The imagery varies depending on who you're trying to rescue."

"Well, damn, Cassie's won that sorta thing before," Ned said. "When she evicted Victor from Gina's noggin."

"With great difficulty," Cassie said. "And only when I had help from the others. I have a feeling I'll be going this one alone."

"Elizabeth never mentioned if more than one could participate," Debby said. "Likely because she was doing this alone. All she said is that it required close proximity."

"And we just have to hope that Projection counts."

"So if I want to try and rescue Heather, I have to wait until Monday?" Diane said in a tentative voice.

Debby hesitated.

"Should I wait, too?" Richie asked. "So we can kinda all hit it at once?"

"Yeah, Jason's always sayin' how it has limited energy and all that," Ned said.

"Please, listen, all of you!" Debby declared. "You have to understand how difficult an undertaking this will be. It's not just a matter of a battle of wills. While the potion removes one large hurdle, there is another you're going to have to confront on your own. While you've denied it control over your intellect, you're choosing to battle the Darkness directly."

"But Ms. Bendon is not--" Diane began.

"Yes, I know, Diane, Ms. Bendon is not allied directly with the Darkness, but her power is the same. And in battling it directly, you have to play by its rules. It will turn your worst fear or your worst personal flaw against you."

Diane's eyes widened. "What, you mean ... i-if Victor is what I fear the most, I'll see him there?"

"You may, but that depends on whether Victor embodies your most deep-seated failing that you see in yourself. That was the one thing Elizabeth could not get the potion to do was avoid the need for that confrontation."

Cassie's mind whirled. What was her greatest failing? That she did not want to become like her mother? She thought she was handling that well enough. She avoided taking too much responsibility, and when she did, she tried not to delegate too much. Suddenly battling Victor's avatar seemed a lot more straightforward.

"And, Richie, waiting until Monday is exactly what you should do," Debby said. "Your reasoning is an excellent one, but the other reason is that you have to build up enough energy to confront it, and that's best done with sexual energy."

Richie smirked. "So you're telling me to go and fuck, right?"

"Essentially, yes."

"But I can't store energy anymore," Diane said in a miserable voice.

"Can she use line energy instead?" Ned asked.

"Yes, I could do that!" Diane said. "Couldn't I?"

"I don't know if it will work, Diane," Debby said. "Elizabeth never said that it wouldn't, though."

"So how much do I have to get laid?" Richie asked.

Cassie sensed Debby's uneasiness. Debby was always wary to offer anything even hinting at sexual advice to underage teenagers. "About five or six strong orgasms per day over the next few days," Debby answered after a pause.

Richie's eyebrows rose. "You serious?"

"Whoa," Ned murmured, his eyes flicking towards Cassie.

Cassie blushed, and her pussy grew warmer still.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be from direct sexual contact with a partner, but it would tend to generate more energy."

Ned rubbed the back of his neck. "Kinda depends if the, ah, partner is up ta it."

This is not helping, Cassie thought as she was forced to spread her legs to relieve some of the growing ache in her sex.

"Now, before we continue, I want to give all of you a chance to back out," Debby said in a flat voice. "Even you, Cassie."

"I really don't have a choice, Mrs. Radson," Cassie said in a hollow voice.

"Yes, you do. Everything we do is about choices. That's what we're fighting for in the first place, the right to make our own choices."

Cassie let out a shaky sigh. She wished she could get Debby to understand. This was not something she could let pass. Jason had to come back. He had to lead the Harbingers again. "I understand. I want to do this."

"I want to do this, too!" Diane said. "I know I might not succeed, but I have to try." She swallowed, wiping one of her eyes. "I want the real Heather back."

Debby nodded and turned to Richie. "Richie?"

Richie bit his lip, his eyes flicking to the glasses, then over to Diane. "I want to talk to Diane about this first."

Diane blinked. "Huh?"

Richie stood up. "Yeah. I need to talk to you about this." His eyes flicked down to the glasses again. "But in private."

His emotions were too jumbled for Cassie to sense properly. Her gaze landed on that odd, cylindrical bulge in his pocket. She thought she saw a bit of white poking up before he turned away. All she knew was Richie was planning something, and now the debate raged in her head as to whether or not she should inform Debby.

Diane slowly stood. "Um, okay," Diane said in a confused voice. Ned raised an eyebrow and glanced at Cassie, but Cassie shook her head and shrugged.

"You can step into the garage if you want," Debby said. Her voice betrayed some curiosity, and her emotions expressed wariness.

Richie nodded and headed away. Diane gave a lingering, nonplussed glance to the others before following him.

"Am I the only one who thinks that a bit odd?" Ned said after they were out of earshot.

Cassie steadfastly refused to comment despite Ned's questioning look.

"It is, Ned, but if it will help him make an informed decision, so much the better," Debby said.

After a few minutes, they returned. Diane took her seat without a word, glancing nervously at the others for a moment. "Okay, let's get this show on the road," Richie declared as he sat down.

"You want to go through with it?" Debby asked.

"Yeah, let's get going." He paused. "We're gonna drink them in turn, right? Sort of to make sure we're not gonna barf it up all over the carpet or something."

"Yes, I had planned that," Debby said. She picked up each glass in turn, handing one to Cassie first, then Diane, then Richie.

Cassie stared at the potion. It smelled vaguely spicy, and almost did look like iced tea. She held it up to the light in fascination. She had never seen an herb mixture this well-blended before.

"I need a volunteer to go first," Debby said in a hesitant voice.

Cassie took a deep breath. "I'll do it."

Ned squeezed her free hand. "It'll be okay," he said in a soft voice.

Cassie lifted the glass, paused, then brought the glass to her lips and tipped it back.

If anything bad could be said about it, it was that it had little flavor. She felt like she was drinking water with a vague infusion of spices. As she downed the last of it and lowered the glass, a slightly harsh and bitter aftertaste hovered in the back of her throat.

She was about to comment on it when her words were lost to the sudden twinkling curtain which swept over her mind. She let out a tiny "oh!" as an odd sensation came over her. The best way she could describe it was her brain feeling tingly.

She let out a shaky breath as her senses flickered for a moment, a sensation she sometimes felt while passing in or out of the dreamverse. It soon subsided, yet in the depths of her psyche, she could "see" something sparkling, like distant street lamps and house lights shimmering in the night time summer haze.

"Cassie, are you--?" Debby began.

"I can see it!" Cassie cried. "I-I think I can, anyway. The split. It's like a sparkling curtain. Like a drape or something across part of my mind."

"I had not stopped to think about that," Debby said. "That your psychic gifts may allow you to perceive it."

"I don't feel any different otherwise, though."

"No, that's very good, Cassie," Debby said. "It means you suffered no detrimental effects. You cannot imagine how relieved I am!"

Cassie let out a windy sigh. "Actually, I can, Mrs. Radson."

Ned squeezed her hand again and grinned. "Told ya."

"O-okay, my turn, I guess," Diane said. She glanced at Richie, who gave her an earnest look in return, before she raised the glass to her lips. Cassie's eyes widened as she sensed a sudden spike in tension from both at the same time.

Diane drank down the contents, but when she lowered the glass, there was a swallow or two remaining. She paused, her eyes widening, then subsiding. "I thought I felt something weird for a moment. Like a kind of tingling in my head."

"Yes, that's what I felt, too," Cassie said.

"But I don't see anything."

Cassie glanced at Richie. He was tensing, as if ready to bolt.

"That's okay, Diane," Debby said. "Cassie can see it only because of her special abilities. Oh, you left a little behind, dear. You should drink the whole dose."

Diane peered down into her glass. "Um, right." She tipped the glass back. A second later, half of it spurted out her mouth and nose as she erupted into a paroxysm of coughing.

"Oh Goddess," Debby murmured, jumping from her seat. "Diane, are you all right?"

Diane set aside the glass with a shaking hand and nodded. "Just ... went down ... wrong way ..." she gasped between coughs.

"Whoa, Diane, don't inhale it," Ned said.

Richie suddenly jumped out of his seat. "I'll get her some water!" He turned and ran out of the room, still holding the potion.

Debby turned her head. "Richie, wait, leave the potion--" He disappeared into the kitchen. "Dammit."

Cassie stood, her heart pounding. "I'll take care of it, Mrs. Radson! Please, just make sure Diane is okay."

Cassie rushed out of the room. As much as she tried to keep her emotions in check, her hands were already curling into fists. It was obvious now he had roped Diane into whatever scheme he had cooked up, and it was all she could do not to enter the kitchen screaming at him.

She entered the kitchen in time to see Richie at the sink, tipping the glass containing the potion. Her eyes widened. Was he throwing it down the drain? No, there was something in his other hand.

She waited until the glass was upright again, its contents now half-drained. "Richie, what are you doing?!" Cassie whisper-shouted.

Richie flinched and uttered a gasp, then a shaky sigh. He turned around and glared at Cassie. "What the fuck, Cassie, you almost made me drop it!" he whisper-shouted back.

"Drop what? What are you ...?" Cassie trailed off. In his other hand was a glass bottle, open at the top, now partially filled with the potion. As she stared in disbelief, he set down the glass, screwed the plastic cap to the bottle, and slipped it in his pocket.

"It's for Melinda," Richie said in a soft voice.

"What? Melinda? I don't understand, why--?"

"What's going on in there?" boomed Debby's approaching voice.

Richie grabbed the glass with the remaining potion and clutched it to his chest. He gave Cassie a desperate look. "Pleasedon'ttellherMelindabeggedmeandwasgoingtocryand--"

Richie silenced himself and raised the glass to his lips just as Debby barreled inside. He downed the remaining contents as Debby placed her hands on her hips.

"Sorry, Mrs. Radson," Richie said after he lowered the now empty glass. "I only realized I was still carrying this when I came in here, so I decided to drink it down first and--"

"After I explicitly said I did not want that potion out of my sight!" Debby thundered. "You will listen to me, and listen to me good, young man. I do not care if you are a fellow Harbinger. When I tell you I want something done a certain way concerning anything regarding this potion in particular or Witchly magic in general, you will do what you are told! Do I make myself completely clear on this point?!"

A dead silence had fallen in both the kitchen and the living room, save for a few lingering coughs from Diane. "Yeah, it's clear," Richie said in a contrite voice. "I'm sorry."

Debby let out a small huff of breath through her nose. Her gaze fell on Cassie, who stood stone still. She tried to keep her emotions on as even a keel as possible, knowing that Debby could glean a rudimentary empathic sense from their psychic auras if their emotional state was disturbed enough. However, she could not completely rid herself of the fear that Debby was about to demand that she corroborate Richie's story. She was not at all sure she could bring herself to cover for him.

"Did you feel any ill effects from the potion, Richie?" Debby asked, her otherwise irritated voice tinged with genuine concern.

"No, ma'am," Richie said. "Just that weird head-tingle thing, but it's gone now."

"Then get back into the living room right now."

Richie started across the room but paused. "Wait, I was going to get some water for--"

"I'll do it," Cassie said, racing to the sink. She grabbed a drinking class from the drain rack and started to fill it. After she heard both Debby and Richie leave, her shoulders slumped, and she let out a quavering sigh.

How could Richie do this? Couldn't he treat just this one thing as sacrosanct and do what he was told? Why did he feel the need to flaunt authority at every turn? She had barely understood what he had said to her in a rush just before Debby arrived. She knew only that it had something to do with Melinda. Was he intending to share it with her?

Cassie took a deep breath as she turned away from the sink with the glass of water. She resolved not to make any judgments until she had a chance to talk to him later.

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