Everything Changes, Part II

Selena lands on the manicured lawn in front of Kharis bin Hashid. The woman’s beauty is stunning, even in the more conservative costume she’d adopted in past months. A quick smile and a toss of the thick, curly black hair, and she is the precise vision of her ancestress.

"Thank you for coming. I’m Selena," she says with a slight Persian accent. "I know that my calling must have been something of a surprise." On the phone she’d hinted that her information came from divine sources, and that could only mean one person – the goddess she served, and a woman that Kharis had known millennia before.  

"I was myself summoned her by a..contact I’d made several months ago. From what he told me, I thought – well, I was told – you would be the perfect person to help." She starts up the walkway, towards the large Sonoma mansion.  

"I am always willing to assist those who stand against the Dark," Kharis replies, moving to walk beside her, "as your... friend... knows well from days gone by."

The door is answered by a tall, burly man, who wordlessly gestures them inside, and leads them through several rooms before arriving in large living room. A very, very old woman is sleeping in a wheelchair, her head leaning on the side of the chair. Nearby, a handsome, dark-haired man is reading a book to a small girl, and another is typing quickly on a portable computer. Selena draws several low whistles from men playing poker around an oak table. As the two of them enter, the man at the portable computer looks up and stands.  

"Hello, Selena," he says with an Irish brogue. "Very glad you could make it. This must be the friend you’d mentioned," he adds, holding out his hand to Kharis. "I’m Ronan O’Neill."

In the past month, Kharis had noted the activity of this small group of Irishmen, thought they remained an enigma publicly. While their methods were brutal in combating cultists worldwide, they had saved hundreds of lives by Kharis’ reckoning, and had, perhaps, saved the world itself. "And I am Kharis bin Hashid, at your service," Kharis replies formally, following the handshake with a slight bow. 'I am honored to be invited to your home."  

"Pleased to meet you," Ronan says. "Moira," he calls softly to a petite, curly-haired blond woman Kharis had not initially noticed, working on her own laptop in a quiet corner of the room, "Can you please try to wake up Cassie?" Moira nods, and steps over to the woman in the wheelchair.

After a few moments, Cassie wakes up. In front of her is Ronan, as well as the superheroine from New York, Selena, and another handsome black-haired man Cassie had never seen before. He is perhaps a touch over 6' tall, of Arabic descent, with clean, sharp features. His hair is black with silvered temples, and he wears it gathered into a well-kept ponytail about 8" long. He's dressed well, but conservatively (in what?)

 Ronan whispers something to Selena, who nods, and then Cassie is surrounded in soothing silver light. When the light fades from her eyes, Cassie feels much stronger, and more alert.

"How are you feeling now?" Selena asks quietly, her voice betraying her Middle Eastern accent.

"Pretty good for being trapped in the body of a woman who probably bought one of the first Ford cars," Cassie says, staring at Selena. Wow, she's even more beautiful in real life than she is in her pictures, Cassie thinks. Is that humanly possible? "Thank you very much for your help. I never thought I'd be on the receiving end of healing. It's kind of a twist. You know, it tickles a bit."

Looking over at Kharis, Cassie just sighs. "Of all the times to get trapped in an old woman's body it has to be when I get to meet some of the most amazing men. And then there's me, who looks like I went through the spin cycle of life." Glancing at her wrinkled hands, Cassie adds, "With no starch." 

The joke helps. What else can she do at this point. My life is so screwed up right now if I don't joke about it I'll be crying from now until next year, Cassie thinks to herself. I wish Tony was here. No, I don't wish that. If he was here, he'd probably have been thrown into someone else body as well. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Well, she amends, maybe on American Weapon.

"OK, we need to play catch-up," Ronan says, seating himself on the couch and gesturing for everyone else to follow suit. "We’re starting to piece together some of the pieces of what’s been going on," he adds. "Both Cassie and Selena appear to be involved in this, for both the amulet that Selena wears –" he gestures vaguely to the silver crescent moon that the superheroine has around her neck "—and the amulet that Cassie wore are part of a collection that, when used together, can be part of a summoning ritual that could be devastating for the world."  

At that point, Kevin Armstrong walks over, the child he’d been reading to now fast asleep on the couch. "In addition to which, we know that Selena’s isn’t inherently powerful on its own like Cassie’s is, and that currently Cassie’s amulet is in the hands of someone who intends it for such a summoning," he says, his voice gravely. "We have her – the impostor – under surveillance, and she has made phone calls to individuals to people in Egypt, Iran, and Boston," he rolls his eyes at the last, "And she has spoken in a language that not even Moira could decipher. We have contacted other members of our organization that are checking out these leads. We haven’t been able to move against her yet, either. She’s radiating magical force like" Armstrong pauses to think of an analogy. "If Selena and Cassie alone are like flashlights, she’s like a nuclear blast," he finishes.

 "Do you think she's planning something physically here in San Francisco or elsewhere in the United States or the Middle East?" Cassie asks. "If she's planning it here, I might be able to get some help from the rest of the Guardians. Provided that I could actually get them to believe this story."

"There’s no way of telling that. Perhaps here, since she’s staying here," Armstrong says. "And her power base is here."  

"That would seem likely," Kharis agrees, "else she would have already vanished."

Moira pipes in, "We believe that there is a connection, both between the amulets, the women who are wearing them, or wore them" she amends, "and the summoning which we believe is to take place, and we belief that the connection lies somewhere in an ancient pantheon." She digs around on the coffee table, and comes up with several scrolls. "We keep track of records, and of prophecies," she says. "I was reviewing some of our newer additions to our library recently, and I discovered this one. I remembered Cassie’s interest in the amulets when we spoke last month, and when I found reference to them in this, I began digging for more information. When I heard the amulets had been stolen, I became greatly alarmed."

"From what we can tell," Ronan says, "These are powerful, powerful amulets. What we believe they could summon – especially with the dimensional barriers weak as they currently are – could spell destruction on a massive scale."  

Cassie swallows and then mutters more to herself than anyone else, "I should have melted that damn amulet down when I had the chance. We'd all have been a lot better off, if I had."

Well it's too late for that, she thinks. Turning her attention to the matter at hand Cassie asks, "What do you think she is trying to summon? And is there anyway to stop it or fight it? Selena still has her amulet. Will that prevent this woman from conducting the summoning? And what do I have to do with this besides being the fool who flaunted one of the amulets around until this Thompson woman could come and get it. 

"We aren’t sure what exactly she’s trying to summon yet, Cassie," Ronan says patiently, soothingly. "We’re working on it, but we can’t understand her telephone conversations and she’s not talking about it to anyone else in any language we can comprehend."

That's scary, Cassie thinks. Moira knows a lot of languages! Hell, she even knew it wasn't me on the phone, by how that impostor talked. What are we going to do if we can't figure out what is going on? How are we going to stop this woman? There's gotta be a way.

Maybe, if I can remember some of the things she did, I can help figure out what she was planning, Cassie thinks. But how can I access those memories. I don't even know why I could remember that sacrifice, when I wasn't there. It's like searching through an old set of drawers. You just don't know where to look or what will turn up.

"I don't know if this well help, but sometimes I can remember certain memories that this Emily Thompson had. I know they happened before I was in her body, but I can see them like I was there," Cassie shakes her head, and grimaces. "I can remember the sacrifice she did to get my body and I can remember her last command to kill this body. Things like that. I don't know if I can remember anything else. But I can try, see if there is a memory of anything else that would help."

She sends her mind back to the unfamiliar territory of Emily’s memories. It’s hard going – Cassie doesn’t even know what she’s looking for – she has a faint memory of something, something glorious and scary, something she’s served for millennia. Cassie shudders involuntarily.

"Don’t tire yourself out," Moira scolds gently, looking down at Cassie’s concentration. You need your strength."

Cassie glances up at Moira smiling. "You should have been a diplomat Moira. You got the polite words of the best negotiators. What is the body - 90-years-old, maybe 100? Don't you mean I'm lucky I don't have a coronary right here. But I've got to try. At least it makes me feel like I'm helping instead of just sitting around here sucking up the air supply." Cassie adds, "I don't know if it helps but I get the sense that whatever this woman was serving was not something you'd like to met in a dark alley. And, I don't know how, but it feels like she's been serving this thing for centuries. Can that be right?"

"Such things are not unknown," Kharis observes, his voice filling the room powerfully despite the soft tones he used. "But your friend is correct, there are many things that should be discussed before it becomes a necessity for you to search your mind for the body-thief's memories." He leaned forward, "The amulets themselves for instance. The purpose that the body-thief wishes to put them to is not their original, true purpose."

 "Your friend is correct," Kharis adds, his voice filling the room powerfully despite the soft tones he used. "There are many things that should be discussed before it becomes a necessity for you to search your mind for the body-thief's memories." He leaned forward, "The amulets themselves for instance. The purpose that the body-thief wishes to put them to is not their original, true purpose."

"Um hi," Cassie says looking at the dark-haired man. "I don't think we've met. I'm Cassie Salvatore. Well, uh, the body is a loaner I guess. I hope. 

Kharis stands, and moves to gently take one of Cassie's hands. Performing a letter-perfect Old World kiss over its back, he replies, "I beg your forgiveness dear lady, I am Kharis bin Hashid, at your service. Lowering her hand, he continues, "And you need not concern yourself with the appearance of your mortal shell, to the Inner Eye, your true beauty shines through like a sunrise."

"Flatterer," Cassie says, but smiles. 

"The truth is rarely flattering Cassandra, but always true," Kharis responds with a smile. "So it is twice as joyous an occasion when it is both." 

Cassie continues, "I didn't get the owner's handbook with the amulet. It kind of just came to me by chance. What was the amulet's true purpose?"

"Yes – what purpose would that be?" Kevin Armstrong asks, moving to sit next to Moira and Cassie.

"Communication," Kharis replies, a faint hint of a British accent creeping into his voice. "The complete set of amulets were originally designed to allow communication between a pantheon of goddesses once worshipped across Northern Africa and the Middle East, and their mortal worshippers through the persons of the goddess' High Priestesses." 

"Like some sort of cosmic AT & T direct dial to the goddess?" Cassie asks. "If that was the case, why did mine let me heal people plus teleport when I didn't even worship these goddesses? And could those goddesses be who this Thompson woman is trying to contact? Somehow that doesn't feel right. I get the feeling she is trying to reach one being."

"I can answer that," Selena says softly, the Persian accent mingling with a British one, "I still serve the goddess Miret, who is a part of the pantheon which Kharis mentioned. This amulet," she gestures to the crescent moon around her neck, "Does nothing for me. My powers are my own, and they are a gift of the goddess. However, before I was…called to her, the amulet was in the hands of a priestess, and for her, she was given abilities which I believe were similar to those you possessed from your amulet."

"The powers of which you speak were considered of secondary importance to the ability to speak directly to one's goddess," Kharis observes. "Additionally, they often had little to do with the specific portfolio of the goddess in question. Your amulet for example," he nods to Cassie, "was dedicated to the most important of the pantheon's goddesses, she who controlled water - the most important of all things to a desert-dwelling people." 

"This is all too weird," Cassie says. "Communicating to goddesses, priestesses running around. No wonder my parents think I'm betraying the church and going to hell. So do you think that this Thompson woman is going to try and summon or contact the pantheon's water goddess or use it in some other way?"

"I think that contacting the goddess is not likely to be the body-thief's goal," Kharis replies amusingly. "'As I recall, the goddesses were, for the most part, benign in nature..." he pauses to glance over at Selena, who nods slightly. "Some more than others, of course." He turns back towards Cassie, "In any case, I do not believe one who sacrifices infants to consume their Ba for the purposes of casting a spell, to be likely to wish contact with any benign power."

"I would doubt that as well," Ronan interjects. "We have become concerned about the permanency of this change," he adds, glancing at Moira.

"What is becoming most alarming to me," she starts off, herself glancing at Cassie, "Is that this person – this sorceress, if you will – has become more Cassie than Cassie. From our current surveillance," she says, "I have noticed that her speech patterns are becoming almost identical to Cassie’s. What we need to know from you," she glances at Kharis, "Is whether or not they can exchange bodies once more."   

"WHAT!" Cassie exclaims, panic creeping into her voice. "How in the hell is she becoming me?! It's not bad enough that she steals my body and my life. Now she's even starting to sound like me. Who the hell is going to believe me then?! Great, great, great. Now I'm starting to sound like her. Some half-crazed woman with her own personal obsession."

 Kharis looks thoughtful for a moment, then stands and moves towards Cassie, Stopping in front of her, he stares at her intently for a moment, as if peering through her at something else, his eyes shifting color oddly. "I... am not sure," he says finally, regret loud in his voice. "Once, perhaps I could tell you without a doubt, but now..." he pauses, his head inclining to one side in thought, for a moment "Ah... forgive me for being a thousand years the fool... It has been some time since I required the aid of the Eye."

Eye of what? Eye of newt? Where do I meet these guys? Cassie thinks to herself. And I thought I was going crazy. Cassie fought down the sudden urge to back up. Stuck in the wheelchair with Moira to her left and Kevin Armstrong behind her, Cassie would have to roll over a couple of toes to get away. If he says anything like , "Ignore the man behind the curtain," I'm going to scream.

Kneeling down in front of Cassie's wheelchair, he places a hand atop hers, "I must ask you to listen to me very closely Cassandra. In a moment I am going to draw a symbol before you. When I do, I want you to fix your eyes upon it - do not let them waver, no matter what the image does. Do you understand me?" 

"Yes, but if you try anything really weird I'm going slug you," Cassie says. "I don't like people traipsing around my subconscious or fiddling around with my soul. I've had enough of that in the last few days. I don't want any more. Got it?"

"An understandable reaction given the nature of the crime committed against you, Kharis replies. "I give you my word that I mean nothing of the sort, I merely wish to examine your aura for a moment. Or, should you prefer, I will swear upon a Higher Power that I mean you no ill." He inclines his head towards Selena and the others, "Your friends are undoubtedly knowledgeable enough to verify that the oath is true should you wish it. The process is painless, although perhaps a bit unnerving if you are not forewarned."

"OK, I'm forewarned and you’re forewarned," Cassie says. "Since we both understand where we're coming from, go ahead." She settles back in the wheelchair and concentrates where Kharis told her.

Kharis stands up, and moves to stand in front of Cassie's wheelchair. Raising his right hand, he extends the first and second fingers, curling the thumb under and across his palm to rest on the ring and little fingers, and begins to trace a line in the air in front of Cassie. For an instant, nothing happens, then a thin line of golden flame springs up to hang, unsupported, in the space that his fingers move through, giving shape to the circle he draws. As soon as the circle is complete, his fingers continue moving in an unbroken line, tracing a five-pointed star within the circle of fire, and then breaking contact to outline an almond-shaped symbolic eye in the center of the star. Drawing his hand back, he extends just the forefinger, gently touching the center of the eye-shape from his side of the symbol and applying pressure to it, as if to stretch an invisible membrane contained within it.

From beside, and in front of the symbol, the space within the eye shimmers as if it were a soap bubble, and begins to visibly bulge outward, taking on the appearance of an actual eye composed of golden fire with a pupil of purest white light where Kharis' finger is pressing. Impossibly, an instant later the eye blinks as though it were an actual organ, lids of flame closing over it, only to reopen a second later and reveal the image of a living eye within the confines of the symbol. A soft golden light plays out from the emerald green pupil, no brighter than a candle flame, but directed at Cassie's seated form, creating a shimmering halo that coruscates around her body with all the colors of the rainbow. Kharis moves from behind the symbol, carefully circling Cassie so as to observe her from all angles with first just his right eye, and then just the left.

I dream of Genie this is not, Cassie thinks to herself. She watches somewhat hesitantly as the eye takes shape.

Apparently satisfied with the two passes, he returns to the symbol and gently reaches out with a forefinger to close the eye, whispering, "Sleep now old friend... Sleep and dream of the days when you ruled the skies over Memphis like a King...." The eye blinks once more, swiveling to regard Kharis with something approaching adoration, and then slowly closes, leaving the symbol as it was before it opened.

Cassie quirks her head at the mention of Memphis and the "King." I wonder if he knows Elvis too, she ponders.

Stepping back, Kharis reaches out and gathers the glowing lines of fire that make up the symbol as if they were a fishing net, swirling them once around his head, and then casting them out to spin away into nothingness above the heads of the small assembly. "You may relax Cassandra, it is done," he says quietly.

While Kharis’ spell is underway, Ronan scrutinizes him carefully, and Armstrong’s expression grows tense. Moira turns and whispers something to her husband, who grins at her and kisses her forehead.

"Well, what did it tell you?" Moira asks.

"Yes, so what's the verdict?" Cassie asks.

"Cassandra's condition is not yet irreversible, " Kharis replies, sounding oddly like a British professor lecturing a class for just an instant. "I believe that I can effect a reversal of the body-thief's spell, but I will require a greater source of power than my own personal reserves can provide. "

At Kharis first words, Cassie is visibly relieved. "Thank God," she can be heard whispering. But second sentence makes her relief short-lived.

"Does that mean no?" she asks, visibly disappointed. "I mean, if you don't have the power to do it then where do we go from here? I don't know anyone who has powers like yours. And my powers, well the only powers I ever had were tied up in that amulet. So, I imagine that woman has access to them now. About the only thing I can think of to do would be pray. Which right about now is not looking like so bad of an idea."

"What type of power?" asks Ronan O’Neill, shifting uncomfortably. He looks as though he might already know the answer.

Kharis notes his discomfort and nods, "Yes, the Ba of a sacrificed innocent would provide the necessary energy for our purposes, as it did for the body-thief... But should you choose to follow the path of the necromancer in resolving this, you will do so without my assistance - and against such resistance as I can bring to bear to stop you. There are prices that no reward is worth paying."

"Look, there has to be another way," Moira says. "Killing babies can’t be the only way of generating magical power, can it?" She looks from her husband, to Ronan, to Kharis.

"Wait a second," Cassie says getting angry. "Look, I'm the one that's stuck in the wrong body. I'll tell you right now that there is NO WAY we’re sacrificing anyone - child, adult, etc. - just so I can get back into my own body. If that's the only way, then I'll stay right here in this body. We can figure out how to stop this Thompson woman from summoning whatever she is planning and I'll live out my remaining years, months, whatever as old woman. But were not sacrificing anything or anyone. And were not trying any black magic or anything like that. There, I've said my two cents."

"No dear lady, it is not the only road to magical power," Kharis answers with a slight shake of his head. "Necromancy is merely an easy path to power, since one does not have to utilize one's own reserves to create the desired effect. Its popularity among a certain segment of the mystical community, " his voice shifts timbre, the loathing he feels evident with each syllable, "is predicated upon that basis, as well as the desire to 'take the short road' to power without truly growing into it over time.

"In your case, Cassandra," he continues, his voice back to its normal resonance, "there is a far more acceptable, and poetically just, way to effect the reversal. Assuming that what we suspect is true, at some point in the near future the body-thief will attempt a ritual to summon whichever Power or Servant is her goal - and I should be able to divert the energy generated in that attempt, bending it towards our goal instead of hers."

"Hmmmmm, that sounds risky," Cassie says. "Things are already pretty messy right now. Are you sure you can bend the energy toward switching me back? I'd hate for us to make a mistake and have something worse running around in this world. Don't get me wrong, I'd like my own body and life back, but I also don't want some summoned creature running around San Francisco."

"There are no guarantees when one deals with powers such as this," Kharis answers slowly. "But I will pledge you this - should I be unable to bend the powers the body-thief summons up to our purposes, I will deny them to hers with my dying breath."  

"Also how do we prepare for something like that. If we can't understand what she's saying, how can we tell when she is planning this ritual? Do we need to be physically close to them to try this?"

"I believe so," Ronan says, his voice melodic as ever. "We will have to interrupt the ceremony somehow."

Cassie adds, "A few months ago the Gaurdians helped PRIMUS stop a group of cultists headed by a gentleman named Thermondier. They were trying to summon something called "the ancient one" from its home in the deep. Remember Moira you saw that book. Anyway. Could this woman be trying to summon the same thing?"

Moira nods slowly. "That’s entirely possible," she says. "I doubt we’ll know for sure until we find out, though."

PBEM Turns