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Date Posted: 16:33:45 10/09/03 Thu
Author: Beck
Subject: Iterum - Chapter Five
In reply to: Beck 's message, "Iterum (Rated R)" on 14:27:38 09/25/03 Thu

*author's note - sorry this chapter is shorter than most of my other chapters...I've been having back pain issues again. I've got a TENS unit on its way to me, so hopefully I'll be able to sit for longer stretches using it.


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Sara reached the top of the stairs, just out of Ian's view, and bit her lip. When she had begun coming up the stairs, she'd had every intention of taking up Ian on his offer of using the sitting room. Now that she was in the upstairs hallway, however, it occurred to her that she could use Ian's concern for Vicki to her advantage. She hesitated a moment longer and then abandoned her plan to go relax in front of the tube and went opposite Ian's directions, making her way to the wing of the house where the hall with the portraits of former wielders hung. She was betting that was where Nottingham had put the Witchblade for safekeeping.

She didn't encounter anyone as she made her way through the corridors of the mansion, for which she was thankful. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she stood before the polished wooden doors that led into the gallery. She took a deep breath and pushed them open, stepping inside. The faces of all the former wielders seemed to stare at her as she passed their portraits. Joan, Elizabeth, Itagaki, Cleopatra, and others all watching as if in judgement of her. She recalled her first visit to the hall, when the faces had been hidden, and shivered a bit. The Witchblade was here and at work, she could feel it.

There. In the ornately carved chest beneath the portrait of herself. The Witchblade was there, she could sense it. She admired the portrait a moment. It was of a different style than the other portraits, more modern. She'd never gotten an opportunity to look at it closely before. The nose was a little off she decided, but overall it looked like her. Maybe a little wide in the hips, her hips weren't that big. Were they? She gave up on critiquing the portrait and gave her attention to the chest beneath it. She was surprised to find that it wasn't locked, the lid rose easily as she pulled at it.

She was spellbound. Mesmerized. The seemingly ordinary bracelet, resting on the red velvet lining of the chest, thrummed with energy. It was impossible to look away from the dull red stone set in the silver cuff. It was dormant at the moment, but she could feel the power surging within it. A magnetism.

Without warning the dull carnelian colored stone flared crimson, brilliant yellow streaks swirling through it's depths. It knew she was here. The room behind her seemed to darken and she saw shadows moving out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't turn around, couldn't take her eyes from the carmine stone that seemed to pulse with her own heartbeat. Sibilant whispers echoed in her ears. She reached out her hand, her fingers poised just above the silver cuff, and then froze. Footsteps were coming toward her and getting louder with each progressive step.

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