Chapter 3

For the first time in a very long while, Frank saw only himself when he looked in the mirror. From what he saw, however, it might have well been a complete stranger looking back at him.

Frank could not remember himself looking this presentable. The last time he looked this spiffy, it was to attend his wife's funeral. He was very thankful that he had been forced to buy himself a new suit. The only other one he had was the one he had used to say goodbye to Rose, and it was all well and good that it no longer fit.

Frank raised a hand to his face and ran it over his skin. His hand trembled slightly, but he hardly noticed. He was smoothly shaven save for tiny bits of stubble along the shadow of his jawline. He started to move up to his forehead and stopped. Even though there were still a few stray hairs sticking out at odd angles, it had taken him awhile just to get it this state.

He fussed with his tie a bit, only to leave it right where it was.

Frank's hands dropped to his sides and he sighed. This was as good as it was going to get.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, he smelled something that was both alien and welcome to him: coffee.

Ever since Frank's doctor had told him he had borderline high blood pressure, Amanda had taken it upon herself to follow the doctor's orders when Frank himself was unable to do so. Out went the caffeinated beverages, out went the salt, out went the fried foods, save for the occasional treat of bacon, the one thing Frank could not give up completely. She did not even ask, she just did it, and Frank had acquiesced without a word. By that time he had started drinking, and that was something Amanda could do nothing to stop. Frank's diet, however, was something Amanda could control, and made her feel like she was doing something positive.

Frank never switched to decaf because it always tasted funny to him. Amanda had dutifully bought it for him, but he rarely indulged. Now the tantalizing odor of coffee -- good coffee -- wafted up from the kitchen.

Frank followed it, and emerged into the kitchen to find Amanda setting the table for a full breakfast. Frank blinked in surprise and confusion.

"Good morning!" Amanda said brightly, bustling between the table and the stove. "Breakfast is almost ready."

"Oh, princess, you didn't go through all this..." Frank said, trailing off.

Amanda beamed at him. Frank's heart melted. "I just thought it would be a good idea to start the day off on the right foot, considering your interview."

Frank nodded and smiled wanly as he slid uncertainly into a seat. His eyes spied the coffee-maker, issuing steam and making high-pitched bubbling noises of a near-empty water reservoir. My God, she did all this for me, he thought in amazement. He took a deep breath and let it go, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Amanda swept the coffee pot from the machine and poured a cup, and placed it on the table before her foster father. She gave him a second look before heading back to the counter. "Actually, aren't you dressed up a little early for it?"

"Oh, well, I didn't want to wait until the last minute. I'll likely leave really early for this so I don't get caught in traffic," Frank said. He tried to pick up the cup by just the handle, and his hand shook so much that he nearly spilled it. He sighed and gripped the cup around the edge, even though this made its heat sear him a bit.

Fortunately, Amanda had not noticed.

The truth was, Amanda was the reason he had dressed up early. He wanted Amanda to see him like this, looking respectable for once, and as proof that he was living up to his promises. Including the big one.

No more.

Not a drop had passed his lips since Friday. He spent the whole weekend booze-free. Even when Amanda was gone for so long Saturday, he did not try to sneak even the least little bit. Indeed, some of it was worry over what exactly Amanda was doing these days spending so much time away from the house.

Amanda smiled at him. "Well, you look very handsome," she said as she started to serve the meal.

Frank smiled. That meant the world to him. His hand even managed to steady, and he forgot momentarily that he could have really used a drink. He sipped the coffee and again looked on in surprise. "This is the real stuff."

"I figured it was okay for once. Anyway, I thought you might want to make sure you're alert this morning."

Frank appreciated the thought, but he likely was not going to finish it. If he was shaking this badly now, it was only going to get worse with caffeine on top of it.

Amanda finished serving and sat down at the table. Frank found breakfast to be quite good. Amanda did not get as much of a chance to cook for the both of them anymore these days, but she had not forgotten anything that Rose had...

He stopped his line of thought right there. Not today. Not until he got through this interview.

No more.

"You really do look nice in that suit," Amanda said. "When did you get it?"

"Last week. I picked it up from the tailor Saturday, while you were out." He paused a moment. "I, uh, remember because I left in the morning and you were already gone, and you were still gone when I got home from that and some other errands."

Amanda hesitated only a moment before responding, but in that small moment, she went from chipper to anxious so fast that she felt her stomach clench. "Oh?" was all she could think of saying.

"Were you gone all that time?" Frank asked, trying not to sound accusing.

"Um, yes, I was."

"Where were you? Just curious."

Amanda glanced at him, her eyes roaming his face, as if looking for any indication that he knew more than he was letting on. "I spent some of it at the park," she said, her voice edgy.

"Just the park?"

"Well, mostly the park."

Frank's mind raced. He need this to focus on, and hoped Amanda would forgive him later for grilling her. "Were you with anyone?"

But he had not expected the brief look of panic in Amanda's face at that point. He slowly put his cup of coffee down.

"Um..."

"Were you? I mean... if you were, it's okay."

Amanda paused. "It is?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes, it..." Frank stopped, then sighed and rolled his eyes. "Or for crying out loud, listen to me. Amanda, you're fourteen. It's only natural that you'd start getting... getting interested in boys."

Amanda blinked. "Boys?"

"So if you're going with someone, you don't have to hide it. If that's what you've been doing all these days you've been away..."

Amanda felt relieved. "Oh, no, no. I haven't been going with a boy."

"You can tell me if you are, Amanda, just..." Frank stopped, his voice starting to fail him.

"Just what?"

"Just... you know... be careful."

Amanda looked blankly at him.

Frank sighed again. This was not the time he wanted to have to discuss such things! "You know... take... take precautions yourself. Don't rely on him to..."

Amanda abruptly began to blush. "Father!" she cried, not sure whether to be relieved or panicked at this point. "I am not having sex with any boys."

At the same time, her blush deepened when she stumbled over the last three words.

"You're sure of that?"

Amanda actually managed a short laugh. "I think I'd know something like that."

Frank immediately felt foolish and smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, princess, I... I just feel like I haven't been there for you for a long time and I'm sort of playing catch up."

Now Amanda felt doubly guilty for keeping this from him. "All right. The truth is, I have been seeing someone in a way. I have a... a friend I meet in the park. A female friend."

Oh, thank God, Frank thought, and nodded at his daughter. The last thing he had wanted to have to do was start obtaining birth-control prescriptions for his daughter. He silently begged her to wait a few more years.

"Her name is Sirinna. I've been, um, talking to her. She's a really good listener. A good... comforter."

Frank felt both shame and relief at this. Shame that she had to go to someone else, relief that she had someone to go to in the first place.

"So that's all," Amanda said quickly. She knew that was a lie, and anything else she might have said would have been as well, so she hoped she could end it at that point. "I'm sorry I worried you, father."

Frank gave her a soft smile. "It's okay, princess. Now that I know what you're doing, I won't worry anymore. Maybe once I get the new job straightened out, you can invite her to dinner one night."

"Um, yes, perhaps," Amanda said distractedly. "If she's not busy or anything."

Sirinna visited the special place one last time.

She would be glad for the chance later that day to rid himself of the garment she was wearing. So used to being naked all the time that it still felt alien to her. While her status back home allowed her to wear simple clothing if she desired, she usually went without, simply because it pleased her, and she knew it pleased Roquan.

That particular day was the worst to be wearing anything, in her view. The sun had begun the day hazy, but instead of burning off the haze as it rose, the air grew more sodden and sticky, and now a sultry stillness lay over everything. There was barely any breath of wind, and the grasses still lay limp from the morning dew that was loathe to evaporate into an already saturated air.

Yet when she looked to the spot where Amanda and her would lay during their sexual trysts, or towards the boulder where she had the girl kneeling before her bound, obedient but not submissive, she felt a pang of the loss that was coming. After that day, she would not see Amanda for a long time. Perhaps never. If Roquan did not send her back to Earth within at most one year, Amanda would be too old to take Captive.

And there it was again. Guilt. A sense of doing wrong for thinking of Amanda as a Captive in the first place. But even with Andon, the young male she had trained and to whom she had grown so close, even with him she had felt no qualms about Training him.

Yes, Amanda would have been a challenge. Despite that she took to her bonds without complaint, Sirinna noticed all the subtleties of her movements. She had wanted to be freed. She obeyed, but she wanted her freedom.

Sirinna could not sort out her feelings. What did it matter? It would not change anything. She would be gone by that evening. She almost wished she could go right at that moment, and not have to face Amanda one last time.

Sirinna sighed. She stepped over to the side, to a point roughly halfway between the spot where they had lain and the boulder. She knelt, her eyes scanning the ground for a few moments before she reached down and scratched at the dirt with her fingers, and lifted a small, glassy orb from the ground.

It was no bigger than a marble. It was dark blue and shiny, it's surface mirror-smooth. It was a blue pearl, a gemstone from her world used to hold magical energies. This particular one had made this their special place. Radiating a curiosity shield, it influenced others to stay out of the area. All the time it was active, Amanda and Sirinna could not have had any more privacy if they had been inside a house with the shades drawn. The gown Sirinna wore had a weaker version of the spell, forcing others to ignore the incongruity of her dress and manner.

The pearl was also Sirinna's way home.

The Portal energies that connected her world of Narlass with the myriad of worlds from which it took its slaves needed a focus. That was what the small blue pearl would provide. Normally a Portal would open up anywhere within fifty miles of where it was pointed. If someone were already on the other side, a gemstone such as this could be used as what Earth people would call a homing beacon.

Sirinna stared at the pearl for a moment, trying to see if it had yet begun to glow. It took the better part of a day to open a Portal, and she should see the pearl glow steadily brighter as the energies built. It had yet to show a flicker, however.

She slipped it into a small pocket in her gown, hoping it was not a concern. She glanced up at the hazy sun one last time before heading off to find a secluded spot in which to allow the Portal to open.

Frank gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. His forehead glistened profusely with perspiration despite the meat-locker cold air that was blasting from the car's air conditioner. Each time he brought the car to a stop at an intersection, he felt himself shaking in his seat.

He swallowed as he waited for a light to turn green, eyes darting anxiously at images that kept flickering at the edges of his vision. His throat felt very dry. When the light turned green, he didn't see it at first, still registering in his mind as red. He almost jumped when the horn of the car behind him sounded.

Frank tried to take deep breaths to calm himself down, but his anxiety was only edging upwards, well past what he could account for as just a case of nerves. Suddenly he gave a startled cry and slammed on the brake, tires squealing loudly as the car came to a shuddering halt, another squeal directly behind him.

Frank dove out of the car and staggered around to the front, his heart pounding and his stomach turning at the mangled flesh he was sure to see plastered gruesomely across his fender. Yet when he looked, there was nothing there. Horror mixed with confusion, and he dropped to his hands and knees and looked under the car, but still found nothing.

Behind his car, the other motorist began shouting obscenities.

"I-I-I'm sorry!" Frank cried, his eyes glazed. "I... I th-thought someone had run in front of the car... I..."

But by this time the other motorist's patience had worn thin. He peeled out into the oncoming lane and sped around Frank's car, nearly bowling Frank over. Shouting one last obscenity, the motorist flipped Frank the finger as he raced away.

Frank fell against his car, his shaking hand grabbing a tissue from his pocket and mopping his brow. The air felt suffocatingly warm and tinged with electricity. The nausea in his stomach made him heave, and he felt the bile rise to his mouth, but managed to keep his breakfast down, though barely.

It had to be nerves. This was his first job interview in years. A job he had to land. It was as simple as that. It couldn't be anything else. He wasn't sick. And it certainly wasn't the other. No, not that. Not the DT's. He hadn't drunk heavily or long enough for that.

Frank got back into his car. He had to get a grip. He had to get through this, for Amanda. That's all that mattered. Yet when it took him about four tries to grab the car door handle and slam it closed, it got harder to deny what was happening to him. He balled a hand into a fist and pounded the steering wheel, and then slumped over it.

When he finally lifted his eyes a minute later, they immediately fell on the bar just down the street.

Frank heaved a wheezing sigh. His heart hammered in his chest, perspiration now running from his forehead. He tried to swallow, but his throat refused to work. He put the car in drive and pulled it off the street, and into a parking space almost directly in front of the bar.

Just one.

Only one, that's all he needed.

He had time. He was early. But not too early. Yes, that would force him to stop.

(No more)

But he had to! He was a nervous wreck! If he could just calm himself down, just a drink to ease his anxiety, another to loosen him up, and he'll just glide through that interview.

Frank made his decision. He turned the engine off, stepped out of the car, straightened his suit, and walked up onto the street and into the bar.

Sirinna was in trouble.

She wandered in the deep woods that bordered the green-belt that ran through the town near Amanda's home. The sticky air was no less oppressive in the shade than he had been in the sunlight, and she now thought she knew why. She peered into her hand, where she cupped the pearl, hidden from anyone that might get past the now waning energies of her shields. It had started to glow a short while ago, but instead of a sure, steady light, it flickered and oscillated rapidly, like a candle flame in a light wind.

She did not understand Portal mechanics. That was best left for Mages. But to prepare her for her task, they instructed her as to what to expect, including warnings signs of what she was seeing now: a misaligned Portal.

They told her that any number of things could cause it, and it could still be safe for transport. However, the transport was the least of her worries, as the energies now being transmitted to Earth to open the Portal were unstable. Stable energies would collect quietly and outside the notice of Earth beings. Unstable energies were still just as invisible, but created visible effects, usually with the weather.

She sighed. There was frustratingly little she could do, except make sure she was as far away from any Earth people as possible when the Portal opened.

Frank loved the feeling. A feeling of doing no wrong. Words flowed glibly from the tongue. No question was too difficult to answer. Mind sharp as a tack and uncluttered by the emotional baggage of pain. Laughter came easy. Everything was amusing and bright.

"Mr. Consco!"

The voice knifed through his utopian perceptions, and he blinked as if he were seeing the inside of the manager's office for the first time. He paused and took a breath, swaying a bit in his seat, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Um... yes, Mr. Hamilton?"

From across the desk, Bill Hamilton fumed behind wire-rimmed glasses, his balding pate shiny in the humid air. His eyes were hard, regarding Frank with cold disdain. In his hands was a single piece of paper, Frank's resume, which he now placed onto the desk and folded his hands in front of it. "Mr. Consco," he repeated, his voice lower but with no less an edge to it. "If you are quite through blathering about yet another point that has nothing to do with this interview..."

Frank swallowed and drawled, "I'm sorry, Mr. Hamilton."

There was a pause, the only sound the hum of the oscillating fan in one corner of the room, which did little but stir the sodden air about them. As it drew close to them again, it blew the resume from in front of Mr. Hamilton, over one side of the desk and onto the floor. He made no effort to retrieve it, or even acknowledged with so much as a shift of his eyes that it had gone.

"Mr. Consco, I agreed to interview you at the request of a friend," he said in a cool voice. "He insisted your credentials were up to the task. Clearly he was not well-informed as he thought."

Frank's mouth worked for a few moments before anything came out. "But... Mr. Hamilton, I have the qualti... qualificun... needed skills for the job, sir. I don't see what the problem is, I..."

"The problem is very simple, Mr. Consco. You're drunk."

"I am not! I would never be drunk for an interview. Not... not one important like this. I have a daughter, Mr. Hamilton, did you know that? Well, a foster daughter. Well, I almost adopted her, but anyway..."

"You have told me about Amanda three times now!" Mr. Hamilton exclaimed. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Mr. Consco, at this company, we value personal integrity. Everything our employees do reflects on this corporation. We are what our employees are. So now you tell me, Mr. Consco, what would that make us if I hired a drunkard for this position."

Frank's eyes shimmered. "Not very smart," he muttered.

"Ah, the first coherent thing you have said since you walked in today. Yes, not very smart. And so now, Mr. Consco, do you think we need to continue?"

Frank sighed. "No."

"Very good. This concludes your interview. Get out."

Frank rose slowly to his feet. Despite the buzz in his head, his perceptions had sharpened from the realization of what had happened, and he walked to the door with a steadier gait.

"Oh, and Mr. Consco?"

Frank turned. "Yes?"

Mr. Hamilton fixed him with a cold stare. "If you are so fond of this daughter of yours that you drone on about so, I would think she deserves a far better role model than you are providing at the moment. To come to an interview for a job with a few drinks under your belt as you have is one of the most reprehensible acts I have ever seen a so-called 'father' commit. She's no better than if she had no father at all. Good day, Mr. Consco."

Mr. Hamilton's words echoed through Frank's mind as he made his way out of the office, beating back the gentle fog enshrouding his mind from the booze. His senses sharpened, he had the faculties now to comprehend his loss.

He staggered out into the street and leaned against his car, parked at an odd angle and partially into the next space. He lay his arms atop the roof and dropped his head onto them. He had to do something. He couldn't lose Amanda like this. The pain of one loss had driven him to drink. The agony of a second one would kill him.

He had to do something!

But the parting words of his interviewer bore into his mind, like a torturer applying steel spikes, turning and twisting them as they went in.

(No better than if she had no father at all)

(I'll do anything not to go back)

He couldn't think. His mind was to wracked with hurt and shame. The alcohol from earlier was already wearing off too fast. He couldn't be distracted by any of these things if he was going to plan what to do next, if he was going to figure out some way out of this.

Frank pushed himself from the car. He straightened his suit. After all, he had to be presentable for whatever scheme he came up with. He walked down the sidewalk, his gait wobbling a bit. He reached the intersection, stepping out into the sunlight, swaying as a wall of heat hit him, as if he had just stepped into a sauna. He glanced one way down the cross street, towards the mountains, where billowing clouds began to boil upwards into the sky. He glanced the other way and made an "ah" sound as he found just what he needed.

He just wanted one or two. Just enough to take the edge off the pain. Then he could think clearly and be on top of the world again.

As Amanda rushed home from her last class, the line of thick, cottony clouds she had seen from the school lunchroom windows had spread out into a wall of ashen gray, their anvil tops towering and flattening. Underneath, the gray turned to a sinister black-green, ominously quiet. The moisture that hung in the air carried a sharp tang of electricity, the breeze unnaturally still, the neighborhood dead silent.

The hairs on Amanda's arms felt as if they were tingling, like goosebumps trying to form but failing. The woods lining the opposite side of the street from her house appeared almost spooky as the sun slid behind the encroaching wall, not a whisper of movement among their leaves. Yet the creepy sensation that threatened to come over her was held at bay by her anxiety to find out how her father's interview had gone.

As she came up to her house, she glanced on last time over her shoulder. Flashes of light now began to dance under the thick, dark smudge low across the skyline. She sighed. She might not be able to go see Sirinna after all, not with that storm coming in. The funny thing was that she did not remember any storms being predicted for that afternoon.

Amanda quickly turned the key in the lock and burst in.

"Father! Father, how did it go? Did you... ? Father?"

The house was as dead silent as the outside had been.

Amanda searched the house, finding only Blackie curled up on her bed. Her father was nowhere to be found.

Amanda glanced at the time on the clock over the mantel. The interview was hours ago. Where was he?

She looked at the phone for messages and found none, nor were any post-it notes on the refrigerator, which is where they agreed to leave notes for one another when needed. She did not even know if he had been home yet.

Amanda glanced out the living room window. The clouds did not seem to want to move, as if keeping vigil just outside the town.

"Dammit," she muttered. She didn't know what to do. Should she be worried? Should she try to call someone?

Sirinna. She'll know what to do. She did before.

Amanda didn't bother changing clothes this time. She simply ran out the door, barely remembering to close it behind her.

Sirinna anxiously glanced into her hand again, cupped even further closed now as she sat on the bench in the park. A few people were starting to look a bit askance at her as they passed, though their eyes tended to slide from her quickly, as if they had decided on a logical explanation after all for the odd woman with the glowing hand. As the storm loomed higher and darker in the west, fewer and fewer people appeared.

Finally, the air began to stir. Thick moisture came upon it, along with the taste of ozone. Lightning arced from the anvil-tops, and the first low rumbles of thunder rolled in quake-like waves across the park.

In her hand, the pearl had grown much brighter now, but flashed and flickered madly, energies piling into the Earthly world in a mad tumult instead of the orderly progression that was intended.

"Sirinna!"

Sirinna snapped her hand closed and pocketed the pearl in one smooth motion. She jumped up from the bench as Amanda ran towards her. "Hello, Amanda," she said, the smile on her face forced.

"Sirinna!" Amanda cried, panting out of breath. "I have to talk to you."

"Amanda, I have something I need to tell you."

"Sirinna, my father's not home yet from the interview."

Sirinna opened her mouth briefly, but closed it again, saying nothing. Don't get involved. You can't get involved anymore.

"He had it hours ago. I don't know if I should do anything," Amanda said, giving Sirinna a desperate look.

Sirinna sighed. "I can't help you with that, Amanda," she said somberly.

Amanda stared. "What?"

"Amanda, I..."

"Didn't you hear what I said? He's not home yet! I don't know what happened with the interview or where he is!"

"Amanda..."

"What should I do? I don't know what to..."

"Amanda, I have to go."

Amanda stopped. Her mouth dropped open, her heart falling into her stomach. "Wh-what?" she said in a small voice.

"I have to go," Sirinna drew a deep breath. It caught in her throat, and when she spoke again, her voice was heavy with emotion. "I'm sorry, Amanda, I... I probably won't see you again."

Amanda just stared for a few moments, then started shaking her head.

Sirinna inwardly cringed at the look on Amanda's face. "I'm sorry, Amanda. I... I wish it could be different but..."

"Why do you have to go?" Amanda demanded shrilly. "Why?!"

"I... I can't explain it. But... my time here was supposed to be short..."

"Wait a minute! Your time here? You... you knew you were going to be leaving today?"

Sirinna bit her lip and did not respond, but the pained expression on her face gave Amanda her answer.

Amanda clenched her hands into fists. "And all that time we spent together! Everything... e-everything we did... that doesn't mean anything?!"

Sirinna swallowed. "Oh, great gods, Amanda, if you only knew how much it meant to me."

"But not enough to want to stay, apparently! You won't ever be back? Ever?!"

"I... I wish I could tell you..."

"I don't get this!" Amanda shouted. Tears were streaming down her face. "You barely tell me anything about you, you get me to talk to you, you get me to... t-to l-love you..."

Sirinna sobbed once.

"And n-now... oh God..." Amanda covered her face with her hands, sobbing her anguish into them. "I thought I had found someone that cared... I th-thought maybe if... i-if things with my father didn't..."

She choked, her throat refusing to work.

Sirinna looked at Amanda in astonishment. She actually thought that Sirinna might take her father's place? That she might foster her? Or adopt her?

Don't get involved, Sirinna thought cynically. So much for that warning. To the hells with it. She needs the truth.

Sirinna reached for Amanda. "Amanda, please, listen, maybe I can explain after all, I..."

Amanda wrenched her arm out of Sirinna's grip. "Don't touch me!" she screamed.

Now tears were threatening to spill from Sirinna's eyes. "Please, Amanda, give me a chance to tell you, maybe you'll understand."

Amanda backed away. "There's nothing you can tell me now! Just go! Go wherever you need to go! Never mind me! No one ever minds me!"

"Oh, Amanda, that's not true, that's... wait! Please!"

But Amanda had already run off.

Sirinna turned away, tears sliding down her face.

Frank swayed, his glazed eyes barely seeing what was in front him. His movements were haphazard, only guesses at what he was supposed to be doing. He guessed right and rolled through an intersection. He guessed wrong, and a garbage can sailed across a yard. Another right one, and he narrowly missed the street lamp. Another wrong one, and he snapped his mirror off against the side of a parked car, gouging its side.