Last week, dear reader, Hailey discovered that the spirit of her dagger, Belinda Athow, might not be the only Athow residing on the plane of the living! Her cousin, Melinda Athow, contracted the mercenary Vicious to impart a message imploring the girl to grow in strength. Now, she is not the only one considering the implications of this message.

Deep within the Starry Realm sits a woman with her head in her hands. Belinda Athow finds herself lost for the first time since losing her body. Further complicating matters is her ongoing disagreement with Hailey. She told the girl not to call upon her aid while acting a heroine. But when facing down Dr. Doubt, Eldritch begged her for help, which she did not, and could not, provide.

Faced with the death of her student, Belinda found herself torn between principle and practicality. Unfortunately, she still does not have an answer for herself. The power of Dr. Doubt to nullify magic broke her connection with Hailey in the midst of combat, taking the choice out of her hands. Now she sits, thinking about her decisions.

“The child was wrong. I must have revenge,” she says to her reflection in the mirror.

“And yet without her we would have no chance for vengeance at all,” her reflection answers.

Belinda sighs. She has traced these arguments around in circles for days now, seeking an answer.

“She is not ready.”

“Of course not,” snorts her mirror in reply, “otherwise she would have more sense than to try learning the geas.”

“What if she is never ready?”

The question hangs in the silence of the Starry Realm. Belinda studies her reflection in the mirror. To her ever-critical eye, she appears haggard. But in this world she controls everything, including her own body. With a motion of her hand, Belinda is once again immaculate. She can hardly muster the energy to repair her appearance, however. Worse, it does nothing to assuage her inner turmoil.

Another motion of her hand and the mirror is mist once more. As it fades away, she grimaces.

Whispering she adds, “It may not matter.”

Belinda slumps down to her bed, a swirling mass of mist and light that rises from the floor of the Starry Realm. Speaking softly to herself in a voice full of regret she says, “I thought this would be so simple. Find the dagger, free my ancestor. How was I to know she would be half-mad from the years of slavery and solitude?”

The Starry Realm conjures no answer for her question. Sighing, she continues, “Then rehabilitating her for months all while she moved about the city in a hangover of rage and pain that drove her…”

Belinda swallows, thinking of those harried months in which her ancestor mercilessly hunted down male criminals of the city and meted out a violent justice that far too often exceeded the crime. Whispering, Belinda adds, “But you were close. I was getting through to you, slowly. In another few months, who knows?”

“Then,” she says, squeezing her hands tight at her sides, “Malefic.”

Belinda sits alone for a full minute while she relives the battle at the mall. Silently, the scenes replay all around her. The Starry Realm itself transforms under the power of her memory, recreating the mall where Amanda and Belinda’s ancestor died. Around the bed, gouts of flame flash around the bed as the duel replays. The only untouched corner of the realm is the bed and Belinda herself, every other piece of her simple abode transforms under the power of the memory.

Agonized, Belinda intones in a weak voice, “I cannot. I simply cannot. I have tried so hard. I have guided the child. I am raising her to be ready, much as it pains me. But I am failing.”

The mist coalesces into a woman who bears a striking resemblance to Belinda. But her eyes lack any compassion and her posture is imperious. “This is what I sacrificed myself for? This is why I suffered?”

Belinda closes her eyes. “Please. Let me be.”

“Never,” intones the phantom.

“You are not her,” whispers Belinda.

“That is hardly relevant,” the phantom answers with a smirk. “What matters is that you speak to me as though I were.”

“I do not.”

Eager, the ghastly figure presses forward and says, “You do! You wish that she were really here to hear your apologize and offer exoneration, but she is not.”

Sighing, Belinda says in a defeated voice, “No, she is not.”

“So you content yourself by speaking to me,” chuckles the spirit, “I wear her face well, don’t you agree?”

Belinda looks at the spirit. Her face bears a troubled expression. Silence stretches out between the two as they stare each other down. Finally, Belinda breaks eye contact.

“This road will destroy her,” Belinda whispers, her voice building as she continues, “she is a child! A good child too! She does not deserve this.”

Hissing, the specter answers her in an enraged voice that thunders through the Starry Realm, echoing off unseen corners, “Did I deserve Athow? Did the women of Atlantis deserve slavery? The millions who will die when he returns, do they deserve death? It is not about what she deserves, but what must be.”

“Then let it be someone else!” begs Belinda.

“She has the dagger,” replies the spirit in an implacable voice, “she is the only one who can banish Athow.”

“She could give the dagger away or send it on to someone else.”

Slowly the woman shakes her head. Her figure grows in the mist as she does, towering over the diminutive Belinda. When she speaks, her voice reverberates with authority, “You precluded that, child of my line, when you formed a contract with her. She cannot relinquish the dagger and you cannot work with another until the bargain is complete. If you want someone else to take her place then she must slay Malefic first.”

“She will not do that!” cries out Belinda. “And she should not have to either! It was my mistake to create the contract, I was angry and you had just died!” Desperation taints her voice as she continues, “I was foolish. I cast the spell. Let me bear this weight!”

“The magic does not work that way.” The phantom then smiles mockingly at her and adds, “Or do you wish to tell her that she already knows the geas? That the contract you placed upon her was hardly a contract at all?”

Cringing away from the accusation, Belinda cowers from the inescapable gaze of her ancestor’s spirit. “I thought if there was give and take, if we both made promises, that it would not be this way,” she says quietly.

“Instead you chained you to her and her to you,” says the phantom. “And you agonize over fetters so light, but you have no idea, no understanding, no comprehension of how much tighter the chains Athow put me in were. But if you do not stop him, if Hailey does not fight him, you and countless other women will find out.”

“She is not strong enough,” Belinda says in a broken voice. “She will die.”

The spirit swirls up the mist of the Starry Realm, drawing it into her form. Around the bedroom, a vortex of vapor begins to spin. Sitting on the bed Belinda seems not to notice. The creature wearing her ancestor’s face, however, uses the energy. For the first time, lightning crackles through the upper reaches of the Starry Realm and clouds begin to form. The faint pinpricks of light off in the distance begin to wink and flash unevenly as though agitated by something unseen.

“Then you will teach her the spell I used,” booms the voice of the spirit, “you will teach her how to trade her life to ensure that he does not go free!”

“No.”

“You defy me? You dare?” the lights begin to wink out and the twirling mists start to coalesce upon the now-immense figure of the ghost. “You will teach her!”

Glancing upwards Belinda says again, stronger, “No.”

Suddenly, the Starry Realm falls quiet. The mists settle back to the ground and the lights begin to shine once more. At the mists fade, they bring with them the phantom. Her expression flinty, the woman asks, “Why not?”

Meeting her eyes, Belinda answers, “Because she will do it.”

“Once again,” intones the woman, “you will take away her choice. You are no better than the wizard.”

“She is a child,” snaps Belinda.

“She is a weapon.”

“I will not use her like one.”

“Then let her decide. Give her the spell and let her make the choice,” urges the spirit.

Giving her a flat look, Belinda replies, “You know what her decision would be. That would be tantamount to teaching her the spell and lying about the price.”

“Then who are you to decide for her?” urges the spirit. “If she is willing, let her pay it.”

Troubled, Belinda opens her mouth to form a reply. Before she speaks, a voice echoes throughout the Starry Realm.

“Bel?” comes the hesitant voice of Hailey. “Bel, please, I need you,” she adds.

Belinda stares at the spirit settled across from her watching it dissolve into the mist. As she does, Hailey’s voice continues to sound in her home.

Standing in the parking lot of the field where the Canonized Clash rages, Hailey wearily entreats her mentor one more time. “Bel?” she whispers into the night air, “please answer me.”

In the Starry Realm, Belinda watches the rest of the phantom fade. As her mouth begins to dissipate, the creature says, “Teach her, or Melinda will,” in an almost inaudible voice. Then the bottom half of her head vanishes. The last things to disappear are her eyes, which never break from Belinda’s own.

Slumping against her mother’s car in the parking lot Hailey groans as the remnants of an incantation fades from her lips. A shimmer set of runes sink into her injuries, the twin bullet wounds from Dr. Doubt, and obscured them before vanishing. Whispering to herself, Hailey says, “I’ll pay for that later.” Closing her eyes, she adds, “But it’ll get me through tonight, right Bel?”

She cocks her head to the side, awaiting a response that never arrives. Sighing, she says, “Bel, if you still won’t talk to me then, please, just listen.” Hailey composes her thoughts and begins her statement by saying, “I could have died tonight.”

Belinda’s face is guilty as she considers her words. Thankful Hailey cannot see her she remains silent and continues to listen.

Pausing, Hailey studies her reflection in the mirror of a freshly washed van next to her parent’s car in the lot. “I could have died,” she whispers. “I need you,” she nods at her reflection before adding in a firm voice, “I need you.”

Hailey considers her next words carefully before saying, “The thing is, when the doctor had his gun in my face, the only thing I could think about was how I’d be failing you. I didn’t want to die knowing you and I were at odds. So I need you to know,” Hailey steels herself and continues, “I won’t kill Malefic. That can’t change. But, I will promise you, if Thorm Athow is coming back I’ll do everything I can to keep him locked away in the afterlife.”

Within the Starry Realm Belinda has a stricken expression on her face. Silent tears fall down her cheeks and vanish into the mist.

Standing, Hailey adds, “And as long as I can, I’ll do everything in my ability to maintain that.” Then she clenches her fists and goes on saying, “I know he’s the source of other evils. The Chauvinist, Roman, and no doubt a hundred more monsters I know nothing about. If you let me, I’ll hunt them down too. Together we can rid the world of all the darkness he created!”

Hailey waits in the parking lot for a response. In the Starry Realm, Belinda stares at her hands in silence, torn in multiple directions. A few seconds pass with no reply, so Hailey sighs and whispers, “I hope that’s enough. I know I betrayed your trust and faith in me. But I need to know what I can do to make this right. You’re not just a teacher to me Bel, you’re my friend, my sister, and,” Hailey cracks a smile, “my favorite feminist. So if there’s anything I can do to fix things between us, please tell me.”

Hearing no response Hailey walks back toward the game.

As she goes, she adds with a cheeky smile, “Oh and while I don’t know who Melinda is, based on the last name I’m guessing she’s related to you.” She continues with a hint of laughter, “She seems just as serious as you judging by her choice of mailman. I’d like to know more about her, but we can work our way up to that.” As an afterthought, she adds, “Oh man! I bet the family get together is a load of fun if your whole family follows that naming scheme. Lots of Belindas, Melindas, Lucindas, and… Kalindas?” she adds, “running around.”

So intent is Hailey on speaking to Bel that she almost doesn’t notice in time as she nearly collides with another girl skulking on the outskirts of the stadium!

“Hailey?” says Ginny, “you almost ran into me there!”

Surprised, Hailey says in a distracted voice, “Um, hey Ginny. Why are you still out here?”

“I should ask you the same thing,” replies Ginny in a flat voice.

“I, uh,” Hailey says waving her hand around.

“Where’s Erika?”

“Erika?”

“The girl you left to go get!”

“Oh!” Guilty, Hailey glances around the lot. “She, um, was going to have to sneak out, yeah, she wasn’t supposed to come and, um, her parents caught her going out the window!” Nodding with a little more determination in her voice, Hailey says, “Yep, that’s definitely what happened.”

Crossing her arms, Ginny says in a suspicious voice, “Why didn’t she just sneak out through the servant’s entrance? That would be much more difficult to spot.”

Incredulous, Hailey stutters and tries to form a reply.

Ginny frowns and asks, “What’s wrong with you?”

But before Hailey can concoct an answer, a metallic voice whispers in Ginny’s ear, “Ms. Napp, the diagnosis has not changed since your last inquiry. Your friend is in a mild state of shock.”

A stunning revelation! What will Ginny do with this information? Find out next week in… “Two Secrets!”