Stave the First: Beryl's (and Barry's) Ghost

To begin with, Beryl was dead, as dead as a doornail, and with her Barry. Mind you, I have no idea why a doornail should be the deceased form of ironmongery, rather than the more appropriate coffin nail. Cliches often don't make sense, I'm afraid.

I said before that both Beryl and Barry were dead. You must believe me on this, or nothing I will relate henceforth will seem wonderous. It was imperative for the audience to know that Hamlet's father was dead; otherwise the whole visitation would have been nothing more unusual than an old man taking a walk outside on a chilly night and meeting his crazy son.

I say for a third time that Queen Beryl and Barry the Hamster were dead. Beryl for more than a millenia, Barry for a couple of minutes. The former having her career as a daemonist being cut "short" by the Senshi, the latter from hemlock and belladonna in his food pellets. These two seemingly unrelated facts were made closer when one takes into the fact Barry's former name, also Queen Beryl until his gender was revealed, and his owner, Luke McIntyre-Muraino. Or, rather, Luke's triplet sister, Mara.

It happened late in the morning of December 24, that wonderful holly-bedecked eve, but the motives went back a few days ago. December 18, actually, when the last straw was hurled onto the camel's back. That is, Mara, in return for who knows what slight-perhaps because he borrowed her bicycle without her permission, perhaps out of frustration from being ignored in favor of Luke's relatively new girlfriend, Sylvite, perhaps all these things, perhaps none, perhaps anything under the sun-had dyed all her brother's school shirts pink. After living through a day of "sissy boy," "pervert," and "bishonen queer", he had decided that enough was enough.

Mara was used to being sent to the office. She, in fact, called Principal Mendou by his first name, which annoyed the formal head a great deal. "So, Shutaro," she said, cracking her gum, "watcha called me in for? Finally abolishing these sorry uniforms? Or at least letting me wear pants?" She flashed that annoying grin of hers.

He sighed. "No, McIntyre-Muraino-san."

"Call me Mara, Shutaro. We know each other well enough."

"Mara, then. We've had complaints from your brother. He's worried about your mental health. We reviewed your permanent record and are inclined to agree. In fact, until we tell you otherwise, you are to report to a therapy group at Crystal Tokyo Mental Health every day from eleven to noon. Is this understood."

"You fucking bastard," she hissed, "That son of a bitch thinks he can get rid of me that easily . . ."

"Demerits as well, Mara, for profanity and rudeness. I think we'll put you down for pathology. Are you sure your parents have checked you out for Tourette's?" An angry nod. "You would have been easier to explain if you had it. Ah, well, the folks at CTMH will straighten you out soon enough."

"Go screw yourself."

"That'll be double demerits, then. And have a nice day."

What was worse, to Mara, was that Luke was his usual easy-going self at home. By all rights and logic, he should be gloating. After all, he had just reduced her life to shit. Leia was no better; instead of sympathising she gave Mara a stern reprimand as if she were their mother! Such a goody-goody! The older and younger McIntyre-Muraino children payed no attention to the new development; Mara was always like this.

At least her parents were somewhat bareable, or at least normal, in their reactions. Dad sat her down and tried to reason with her that there was nothing bad about therapy. Like usual, this ended up with a very frustrated Brendan Muraino hanging his head wondering where he had gone wrong. Mom favored her with the kind of Look that Mara had worked hard to copy. Rhiannon was as disapointed as hell at Mara's behavior but she would not sully her dignity with a lecture when her actions would show her displeasure just as easily. Mara had expected this. It had happened every other time she had gotten in trouble.

The next day was no better. First there was the humiliation of having Ayumi-sensei verbally remind her in front of the entire bloody class that it was time to visit the funny farm. With the exception of the bratpackers and her best non-bratpack friend, Eiko Daitokuji, Class 9-B was the center of merriment. The idiotic, insolent, bleeting sheep! If only she had enough mint sauce for the entire rack of them.

Reaching the door she noticed that Shutaro must have been so happy to get her out of his hair that he had gotten her a crysticab. Fine, if the miser wanted her to ride, she'd ride. Although the Widdershins Cab Co. didn't have the greatest reputation.

"Call me Gramps" pontificated a while on his current hobby, taxidermy, but then switch the topic to other matters. "Well now, haven't I seen you in the papers before. Let me think . . . 'Palace Prepubescents Protect Princess from Perilous Plot.' Funny how they go in for alliteration so much."

"Funny," Mara echoed boredly.

The old man smiled, "Also funny how pretty you young-uns are.

Especially the daughter of those two guardians, Azurite and Pyrite. What was her name, now?"

Mara smelled profit in the air. "I'll sell you five French pictures of Sylvite for only 3000 yen." After that business transaction was conducted, the old coot started rambling about vampires and how they lurked among us.

Finally the old geezer pulled up in front of Crystal Tokyo Mental Health. With the way he yacked he might as well be a patient. He agreed to pick her up in an hour and sped off, beeping an incredibly tacky horn. What kind of imbecile would _want_ their car to play La Cucarucha?

After blowing the chirpy secretary off and getting directions, Mara stalked off to "her" room. Midway through the hall she paused to check herself in a mirror. That horrible, lavender-and-mint-colored, serafuku-patterned, uniform. The boys at her school were relatively lucky, they only had to wear black pants and a white dress shirt.

Well, at least she knew how to fix the damned thing. Finding the string that was connected to all the others she had added to her skirt, Mara pulled. There, it was mid-thigh length. She slipped off the stupid tie and tightened it farther up her neck for a scarf. Last of all she loosened her blouse and unbuttoned it down two more buttons. Well, she couldn't help the colors and she would rather wear pants, but this was much, much better. In a year or two when her figure matured she'd turn heads like Sylvite.

She checked her watch: eleven-ten. Fashionably late enough. Pausing only to check her hair, dab on a bit of deep-red lipstick, the kind they wouldn't let her wear at school, and add some mascara to further enhance her long eye-lashes, Mara left to make her big entrance.

The therapist was excruciatingly perky, Mara reflected as she put her feet on the coffee table. The young Japanese blonde had introduced herself as Julie Ota and named the other members of their group: Komoko Wantanabe, a schizophreniac whose frequent conversations with the voices in her head were starting to annoy Mara; Jamie Kato, recovering alchoholic, depressive, born-again Christian; Mai "Call Me Auntie" Burbank, an old bat who refused to believe her husband Al was dead; and Mara herself. What a motley crew.

She sat in her chair staring out into space, talking only in monotone when she was spoken to. Most of it was ranting about her damn idiot brother. Mid-rant she was stopped by a shut-up from Komoko.

Mara stuck out her tongue. "You shut up, bitch."

"Stop talking to me, I said. Why won't you just leave me alone?"

"Who spoke first, Psycho?"

Mai clicked her tongue, "Children, don't fight. What would Al think if he saw you like this?"

"How could he if he croaked?"

"My husband is not a frog!"

"He was born in the year of the ox, wasn't he?" The therapist suggested, trying to switch the topic.

Jamie nodded at the escalting violence, "Those who sin cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Mara, your savior said 'Turn the other cheek.'Listen to him and be saved."

Mara snorted, "What heaven? I have no savior and I don't need any of your crap. Go somewhere and hand out anti-abortion leaflets!"

"Then you shall burn in Hell for all eternity! Although the way you dress has already secured you a place, young temptress."

"Them's fighting words, oh fundie-conservative from hell. I may be many things, but a slut I am not." Aw, to hell with keeping her temper. She always did tell people that trouble was her middle name.

Julie cried out, "Don't Mara! . . . Oh shit! . . . Jamie, remember what you told her! . . . Not you too! . . . Komoko, darling, I don't think this is a good idea . . . Ow! That hurt! . . . Mai, what would Al think of you brawling? . . . I'm calling the head nurse right now!"

"All they did was give you a lecture and switch your therapy group?" Eiko asked on the bullet train to Little Tokyo, "I swear, you have the luck of the gods."

Mara shrugged. She herself was suprised she got off so easy. Crystal Tokyo administrators, of course. If she had been out of the city she would have been in real trouble. Then again, out of the city she would be the rule rather than the exception.

She grinned a toothy grin at Eiko. They both ventured out into "that other Tokyo" for the same reason: martial arts lessons, which were rare in the city due to the general non-violence of the ville. If you didn't want the operation to fold, you chose a different location. Mara was enrolled in the PASMA, Eiko at a local kenpo school. It gave them a perspective on life outside the crystal cage. Perspective spawned advantage, advantage spawned additude, additude spawned edge, and edge spawned a certain preparedness. In this fucked-up world, Mara reasoned, you have to be prepared for anything.

Eiko's tone turned pensive. "The bad girl look _is_ new for you, Mara. I thought you were working on letting them let you wear pants."

"It's all part of my plan. Until they give in I'll only wear the doctored uniforms. They'll hate having me look like a reject from the Rocky Horror Picture Show, so they'll have to give in sooner or later."

"What about your parents? They'll let you go to school looking like that?"

"I ask Dad when he was having another one of those futile 'heart-to-heart father/daughter talks' with me last night. He said something about if it helps my self-image, do it."

"I can't believe your dad's so permissive!"

"He and Mom are still tied to their ideal of 'do your own thing.'

Except for forbidding daemonism, they actually follow it. They don't like it, but they'd rather not violate their principles. Sometimes having parents with pretensions of idealism can work to your advantage."

Eiko shook her head. "Do you have to be cynical about everything, Mara?"

"It helps me deal with a clueless and often confused peer group.

Besides, Daria did it and it got her a hit TV show on MTV."

"What's a Daria?"

"Old American cartoon that my mom likes to watch. It's not half-bad, actually."

"Maybe I'll borrow a vidisk. Let's talk about more pleasant things, like Christmas. You doing anything special?"

"Not really, just the usual palace-crowd parties. Mom finally got her chance to host the private one this year. She's been bugging Serenity about giving her a chance for the last five years. And of course there's the public one at the palace where we get to give the tabloids a couple of new photos, the leeches. Thank goddess I only have to contend with them once a year. Well, at least we get free eats"

"Lucky."

"Not really. Alan will try to corner me or Leia under the mistletoe. Artoo will try to talk to Kodi without Minako catching on. The twins will act cutesy in their stupid Tuxedo Kamen costumes, trying to get Endymion or Alan to play with them. They'll all do that at the public one too, but we have to be formerly dressed as well, acting all sugary sweet. You should be happy you don't have to go."

"Well . . . I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Spit it out."

"Could you get me an invitation to the Christmas Ball?"

Mara looked to the side. "My best friend has gone crazy. Should I tell her?" Turning back to Eiko, "Aw, hell, sure. You'll regret it."

"Maybe. I won't know untill I try it. You said that about Renegade's Haven too."

"How was I to know that you have twisted taste in food? Hey, we're stopping!"

"So we are. See you tomorrow."

"You too. One question: should I get a leather jacket to complete the subversive ensemble?"

"If you can bare to part with the cash, go for it."

Mara nodded and the two parted. She checked her watch. Just enough time to get the jacket before lessons with Daisuke-sensei. Nice to spend a bit of time in the real world again. Now if her sibs would visit LT once in a while they'd be a lot less prissy.

A half hour later the self-proclaimed non-prissy bratpacker was changing into her gi and practing those calming excercises her teacher so advocated. Sometimes they worked for her. Sometimes they didn't.

Daisuke Aino was in his office, listening to an audiodisk and singing quietly along to it. "'I keep on dreaming/ no matter the seeming/ 'cause you know they unwind/ when love's on your mind/ At least I think it's on mine.'" Mara cleared her throat so he would notice she was there and Daisuke blushed.

"Hello Mara. Err, sorry about that."

"Reliving memories again?"

Daisuke nodded. "That was the first song he wrote for me. I heard him sing it the night we . . . um . . ." He shrugged embarassedly.

Mara shrugged as well. "The dreams unwinding part sounds familiar."

"It was a reference to a Fleetwood Mac song. Perhaps you've heard one of your parents play it." He glanced at the clock. "Is it time for your lesson already, then?"

Mara rolled her eyes. "Oh _yeah_. In fact, I'm late. Gomen nansai, sensei, but you need to fix your clock." Her tone softened. "Only a week left until the aniversary, hmmm?"

"Almost exactly, yes. Perhaps I'll do what the others do and stop by the old club. I don't really know. I mean, Motoki dragged me to Lennonwake a few years ago. They probably have some sort of Shadowake as well. Boxing Day just never is easy for me."

"I can imagine. Still, if you need to get your mind off of it, Mom's always told me to ask you to the Christmas party if we got a chance to host it. I know you like to stay at home, but it would be fun."

"I wouldn't want to be an imposition."

"Daisuke-sensei no baka, of course you wouldn't. Come to the party.

It'll do you good to get out of the dojo." Not to mention away from that record collection.

"Okay. Lessons then?"

Mara batted her lashes. "I thought you'd never ask, Daisuke-kun."

"Not you too! Did I _ask_ to be born beautiful? Why are the only people who flirt with me the exact people I don't want to? Oww . . . That hurt, you know!"

"Bad karma. Let's get in the ring."

Ten minutes later . . .

Daisuke stopped in mid-leap. "Mara, I can't teach you when you aren't focusing on martial arts!"

"No duh, sensei. Want to blow it off and watch The Karate Kid II?"

Mara evil-grinned.

"No, you're going to sit yourself down and tell me what's wrong."

"But sensei-"

"No buts. Tell me."

Mara sighed but in the end the whole bloody story came out. The pinked shirts. The meeting with Principal Mendou. Therapy Group. The Brawl. "I can't believe Luke did this to me! What about familiar loyalty?"

"Maybe he thought he was doing what was best for you."

Mara shook her head. "Send me to a shrink? I don't think so. I don't want to ever talk to the mealy-mouthed little jerk ever again."

Daisuke nodded, deep in thought. "You ready for a lecture, Mara?"

"You might as well. Everyone else seems to want to give me one."

Her teacher took a deep breath. "Mara, when I was a few years older than you I had a terrible fight with my mother. I vowed never to talk to her again. I kept that vow for more than half a century, even though she was willing to make-up. Then I lost some one very dear to me and Mom helped me through that time. Don't let tragedy be the reason you make-up with your brother. Please, appologize to him before it's too late for you."

"I guess I could try. By the way, are we ever going to get to practicing?

Hey, stop showing your tongue like that!"

The next morning, after watching Bug Boy and La Blue Girl fight off that morning's aggressors and collecting the money from her wagers, Mara steeled herself for doing her least favorite chore: appologizing.

No more putting it off. It was time to talk to her brother. Taking care to corner him and Sylvite where they couldn't escape, Mara sauntered over to her target. "Hey Luke, I guess it wasn't that great of me to dye your shirts. I only meant it as a joke. Umm . . . sorry."

Luke stared at his sister. What mucus-clone had replaced her? Did she just say she was sorry? "Yeah, well, I shouldn't have told Principal Mendou on you."

Mara nodded, satisfied. "You bet you shouldn't have. Do you have any idea what it's like having the entire school laughing at you?"

Luke made the motions of pondering that question. "Do I know what it's like to have the entire school laughing at me?" He laughed harshly. "Oh _yeah_! Who's had their baby pictures shown to the student body? Who's had his sister record his private conversations and play them over the intercom? Who's had photo copies of his journal raffled off during lunch? Who's sister teases him mercilessly in front of the whole class everytime he's had to change his sheets? Who's lived his _entire_ life afraid of what trick his sister is going to play on him next? I take back my appology; you don't deserve it. Oh yeah, while we're at the subject of your SNAFUs, who spread a rumor about dating customs that made one of her friend's life hell? Get away from me; I don't want to look at your face."

Mara turned to Sylvite for help. The other girl was looking at her incredulously. "You were the one who told all those guys that I'd date them if they fought me? I never thought even you would stoop that low."

Mara started to back away. "It wasn't like that, Syl, I swear. He's twisting facts."

Sylvite stared back at her childhood friend with an expression of cold anger on her face. "That seems more like _your_ department. Unless you want to end up in a hospital, I suggest you leave us. Before I do you real harm."

"Fine! You haven't seen the last of me yet, Luke McIntyre-Muraino."

As Mara stalked over to the other side of the school yard where

Eiko was waiting, Luke shook his head, stunned. "Syl-chan, did I just tell Mara off?"

Sylvite nodded. "Yes, Luke-kun, yes you did. I'm proud of you. Just one thing: why would she tease you about changing the sheets on your bed?"

"Err . . ."

Mara, however, after giving the bad news to Eiko, was tracking down

Toji Kimua. She looked downward, as he barely clocked in at five feet. Finally she reached his folding table in front of the auditorium, gigantic treasurer Kenji Oba as his bodyguard. The wolf whistles from various Sylvite Fan Club members gathered 'round re-inforced her opinion of them. Wear a short skirt and they forget that you have power over them. In fact, it gave you an entirely new kind of power. Wonder why Sylvite never used her power?

Mara smiled predatorily at Toji and he gave a wolfish grin back. He was probably the only male at her school that she respected. While having a thing for Sylvite, like most of his gender, he still kept a clear enough head to make money out of his fellow fanboys. In many instances he had been her distributor for her candid photos.

"So, my marmalade-spiked little tigeress, I heard you had a falling out with our electric blue-haired goddess. The SFC grieves for you. Was it the fault of that milksop you call a brother?"

"Your agents are skilled and speedy. Yes, and he's going to pay for it. Can the SFC help me punish him?"

"Can we punish him? Can we punish him? My dear Mara, more than half of the male student body belongs to my organization. The rest are homosexual, faithful to their girlfriends, or have not yet reached puberty.

We are a force to be reckoned with. The question is, will we be re-embursed?"

Meaning Toji himself. "How would an invitation to Christmas Ball sound? Chance to corner Sylvite under the mistletoe."

"Sold. Where is my Chosen Triumvate? Amano! Saeba! Daitokuji!"

Three grade elevens stood-up and saluted, "Gurikazu Amano, sir!"

"Ryo Saeba, sir!"

"Shiiko Daitokuji, sir!" The last was Eiko's older sister.

Toji drew himself to his full height and looked as imposing as he could. In grand oratory style, the president of the SFC launched into his ad-libbed speech. "Go out, my Chosen Triumvate, and send this message to our brothers and odd sister. Tell them that Luke McIntyre-Muraino, the man who stole our Sylvite's heart, has committed a new outrage against his innocent-" There were snickers, but Mara stared them down. "-sister. We can not let she who has provided us with so many swimsuit photos go undefended. We are honorable men, we aid those who have helped us. Let us now gather after school in our sansocrant auditorium to decide our battle plan against him." The Chosen Triumvate nodded and ran off while the crowd went wild.

"Hail Toji-sama! Hail Mara-sama! Viva Sylvite-chan!"

"If we can't beat Luke, no one can!"

"Strike a pose for us, Mara-sama!"

"If I can't get Sylvite, he shouldn't have her!"

Mara nudged Toji, "Wow, you can B.S. almost as well as Alan."

The grade ten boy shrugged, "It's my talent. Speaking of that man, will you invite him to our rally? Now that Sylvite has tranferred affections, our animosity to him is gone. Actually, we admire him for suceeding that far with her."

"Perhaps, since his attentions are currently more for me and Leia. Which means I'll have to sit with him the entire time. It's a sacrifice, but I can make it. He may be an asset. Anyway, besides your lot he's my biggest buyer of risque photos."

"I can see that." They stared ahead at the cheering group of boys.

"By the way, if you need an escort to that party I'll be free."

Mara whipped her head, "What do you mean by that?"

"I am no fool to think that out of dozens of suitors I will be the one who Sylvite chooses. I am willing to settle for someone else. I have long respected your intelligence and I have recently noticed your vitality and grace. Perhaps I could grow to love you."

"Love? Humbug. I love no man."

"Like Shiiko?"

"No, I just don't get tangled up with things like that. Sex is cool with me, but love gets messy. It turns your brains to mush. Witness the throng, my friend."

"True, they on the whole have less brains than the average rabbit. Still, it is my opinion that love does have it's beneficial points. I will ask you again in a month or so to see if you change your mind."

"I won't."

"We'll see."

"Perhaps if you sent me a nice down payment . . . no, I am no whore, tempting as a new source of funds may be. Sorry, Toji, but I'm not interested in mush. Stick to Sylvite, you'd have more luck with her." He looked a little downcast, so Mara whispered in his ear, "Not that I won't sell you the same kind of pictures I sell Alan. I'll even give you a discount."

Toji might have said more, but the warning bell rang and the students scattered, hauling butt to escape tardies. As did Mara, steeling herself for a day of being avoided by her friends. She was really gonna get Luke for this.

It was three-thirty and Mara reflected that synchronicity had been nice enough to let the SFC rally be on a day when she didn't have lessons. Lunch, frankly, had sucked. Eiko was the only person who would sit with her. Even Leia had just stopped by for a second, saying that she was sorry about the trouble but she'd be sitting with the others, thank you. Her sister the traitor.

Of course, Eiko knew the truth of the Shampoo Incident, mainly because she had been involved. Mara had told her friend about Syl's resemblance to Shampoo, who had told her older sister Shiiko, and everyone knew that Shiiko was a motormouth and a ditz. Eiko could have used a _little_ better judgement.

After snatching her normal combat boots from her locker, Mara high-tailed it to the auditorium. Pity Alan wasn't interested in joining. He had been a formidable apponant for her brother. If it wasn't for paper-rock-scissors, Alan would have won. Too bad he hadn't. She was having a hard timetaking scantily clad pictures of herself. Mainly because she had trouble finding some one to take those pictures.

Mara snorted. Her sibs looked down on her for taking those pictures and yet they ate food at the same table that had been partly bought with the money from it. Who was the hippocrit now?

When she arrived at the auditorium, Mara was greeted by Saeba and Amano. After saluting and attempting to get a better look at her cleavage, they conducted her to a chair at the side of Toji's podium. Some one had rigged a projector which was currently showing some of Mara's more classic pictures of Sylvite. Mara was amused when she saw that one or two of her had been added to the mix. Toji's doing, probably.

A line of SFC officers filed in on the other side of the podium. Mara recognized treasurer Kenji, and was introduced formally to vice-president Hiroshi Shibata, and secretary Junya Sato. She recognised them from a recent photo auction.

The Chosen Triumvate had gathered at the three chairs next to her. The only person missing was Toji. Very well, Mara could wait. In fact, the only problem she currently had was a line from one of her dad's movies kept surfacing in her mind. A more wretched hive of scum and viliany, indeed!

Then Toji came and Mara had to admit he looked pretty damn good as, followed by a blue spotlight, he strode up to the podium. Climbing the small staircase, so he towered over them all, he waited for a lull in the torrent of noise and spoke.

"My dear, dear friends, I trust you all know why we have gathered here. How, for a full three years, we have watched over our beautiful goddess, surviving on the hope that perhaps, one day, she would choose to date with one of us.

"You know, all of you, how she was finally won by a certain Luke McIntyre-Muraino and how we swore vengance on him for that slight against us. It seems we have new reason to hate him, a perfect reason.

"He has caused our Sylvite-kamisama to regard his sister, the lovely Mara, falsely as an enemy of hers. He has framed her and caused her isolation from her friends. This is a new level of perfidity and McIntyre-Muraino shall not go unpunished.

"I have called you all here for our fifth Great Counsel, the Question of Retribution, with any plans made to be enacted after school resumes in January. With Mara-sama's aid, we will hold court and decide our sentence for him. We will also break for snacking at five-fifteen. If there are no further questions, let us get to it."

And get to it they did, as it wasn't until after six when Mara left the school for the nearest bus home. Of course, she had just missed the damn thing and would have to wait twenty-five more minutes. It was aggravating and she decided to wander around for those next few minutes.

Mara was nearing House of Heroes, Bug Boy's favorite comic shop, when she noticed a familiar figure leave the building. She ran a little to catch up with the cloaked woman. "Mother."

"Kalika." It was Rhiannon's special name for Mara, a Hindu name that meant "she who destroys," and a play of Kali Ma, goddess of destruction. Her other siblings had special names as well, though Mara didn't know all the names.

It was odd, Mara reflected, how her mother could exert such an influence on her so that she was polite. Normally Mara thought common courtesy something to be used only as needed, prefering informality with rivals and allies alike. Mara's _father_ didn't have any such hold on her, so it puzzled her why her mother would.

"I heard about what happened in school today, daughter," Rhiannon said after a length of time.

Mara stiffened, "Luke?"

"Leia, actually," her mother corrected. "You've gotten yourself into a bit of a mess, I'm afraid. Do you want my help with this?"

Mara shook her head, "I'd rather work this out my own way."

Her mother took her hand, "I trust in you, my bitter child, though the others in our little group may not."

Mara's tone turned self pitying, "Trust in me, Mother? I betray my friends, my family, all without a qualm. And for what? Money? I know what they say about meand it's true. I think you've placed your trust in the wrong person."

Rhiannon's voice was soft when she answered her daughter, "Have I, daughter? I have not forgotten the folded money slipped under the table when budget was tight. There is a method to madness, yours as well as mine. The black sheep often has the softest wool and the armoured woman is sensitive once her protection is gone."

"Riddles, my mother, you speak in riddles."

"So I do. Come, daughter, it is time to make our way home. Perhaps we shall talk more later."

Mother and daughter walked together toward the bus station.

'Twas the day before Christmas and there still was no snow. Mara and Luke were close to trading blows. Last night the Christmas Ball had gone pretty much as expected. Ben and Anakin had been a nuisance as usual. Alan still kept up with his declarations of love for Leia and Mara. Artoo and Kodachi had snuck off to be alone and were caught by Minako who gave them a private tongue-lashing. The press was no less annoying than Ben and Anakin.

All three of the triplets, actually, had brought friends. Besides Eiko and Toji, Leia and Luke had invited _their_ best non-bratpack friends, respectively Atsuko Natsume and Tsubame Ozuno. Atsuko, or Tsu-chan as she insisted on having people call her, was bouncy girl, the essence of kawaii, although she was as studious as Leia. Tsubame, like Luke, was a nervous lad, as full of odd theories as his friend, as well as an amateur magician.

All four students were well-liked by the palace crowd and all four were asked to come back for the real party tonight. Amazingly, they said they would, marveling at their luck to be able to hang out with the nobility. Like most regular CT citizens, they were slightly in awe of their long-lived rulers.

The days preceding these had been agony for Mara. Kodachi, normally and ally against Luke, had sided with her best friend against Mara, leading Artoo, normally another ally, to do the same. When Threepio and Hematite came home from college, they declared themselves neutral, which still was no help. Leia, that rat, had also remained neutral, but hung around much more with her brother, the traitor. In fact, the only person still to side with Mara was Alan, annoying though he was.

It was early morning and Mara was searching through Rhiannon's herbs. Her father was out collecting eggs from the half-dozen hens that had survived November's slaughter of their male counterparts. He was no doubt also setting out food for his latest pair of owls, Norton and Clotho. Normally his wife gathered the eggs while he fed the animals, but with the babies mere weeks away Brendan had sentenced her to sleeping as late as seven a.m.

Mara had looked up the exact formula in one of the books in her mother's study. The study was a small, cozy room in the downstairs, with many bookcases, a tiny window looking out to the backyard, containing a typewriter, pens, paper, books both for reading and notes, here and there unfished manuscripts, with nary a computer in sight. (When Rhiannon needed such a thing she borrowed her husband's.) Her mother seemed to use it to compile what was in the manuscripts and notebooks.

Mara had skipped the novels and manga and headed straight for the practical tomes. She bypassed the cookbooks, the rewriting of Bwenteir family texts, the unfinished novel or two, the journals, and, though she lingered on the collection of spells, finally settled on a guide to herbal medicine. She frowned a little at some of the ingredients she'd need, as one or two of them she knew were to be best found when skyclad (something it was a bit too cold to do), but was reassured when she found that her mother had some of it dried.

Now she only needed to find the last thing on the list. Ah, here it was! The mixing together only took a few minutes and she had a vial of it ready before a half-hour was up. "Vengance is mine, saieth the Lord," she murmured as she went back upstairs to get dressed.

It wasn't for a couple hours that Mara got to use her potion. She had just seen her brother climbdown the stairs and quickly dashed across the hall, picked his lock, and entered Luke's inner sanctum. It was a mess, as usual. She pawed through the room, reaching his hidden stash of cookies, smiled, and . . . took one of them to munch on. Then, taking care to cover all her trails, headed over to Barry's cage. And grinned a grin that would have scared anyone. Then she ran downstairs to go to church with her family.

The McIntyre-Murainos weren't exactly practicing Catholics. In fact, they weren't really practicing anything. Sure, Rhiannon claimed she still followed her past life's religion centering on her ancestor/goddess, but it was more like she archived and rewrote the sacred texts of her former life's clan. It was the same with how she would read the Talmud and Torah, but not fast at Yom Kippur.

As for the rest of her family, they were non-religious with the exception of Luke who had joined the Church of the SubGenius a year ago. The usual extent of visible faith was swearing, as shown by the choices of curses used by the clan. Mara herself thought there was a chance someone was out there, but she wasn't commiting. In other words, an agnostic.

Despite the disinterest in secular matters, the McIntyre-Murainos did visit a house of god on the average of twice a year. The church of choice was an unassuming place known as St. Peter's and it boasted dual priests, Father Jeff and Mother Lauren. Female priest, of course, had finally become part of the Catholic faith a couple of centuries before. This had come along with a couple of other reforms, including the unwilling cannonizing of Queen Serenity. Sadly to say, priests still were celibate.

The service was like any other of it's ilk, at the same time joyous and meditative. Father Jeff played his guitar and sang "What Child is This?" while Mother Lauren lent her voice in a homily on the spirit of the season and the wonder of such miracles as surrounded the origin of the faith's chosen prophet. After the tranformation of the wine and bread to blood and body, everyone filed up to accept the Eucharist. It was nothing special and yet, in a way, it was special enough. Of course, one way the family made sure that church was sacred was going only on holidays.

They stayed a little bit afterward to talk to the pastors, but hurried home soon after to get ready for the party. Wonderous smells had been filling the house the last few days and today they had doubled, as Titanite and daughter stopped over. Soon they were joined by others, coming at odd intervals.

Some one had popped "Miracle on 42nd Street" in the laserdisk player and a group of people were gathered around the tube. Many of the younger guests and not too few of the older ones had found a place by Hematite, who was reading "A Christmas Carol" to the younger twins. Some of the more culinarily inclined had joined Rhiannon in the kitchen, while still another group of people had started a game of poker.

Atsuko had brought her pet cat, Nuku Nuku, to the party and that prompted a discussion about various pets. In the middle of the conversation Luke remembered he needed to refill Barry's water bottle. A sort while later a piercing shriek was heard upstairs. Quite naturally, everyone rushed up to see what was wrong.

"He's dead," sobbed Luke, "my beautiful hamster is dead. He wasn't an old hamster. There were years ahead of him! How could he die so young?" The boy actually seemed to be crying for his victim-of-homicide hamster.

"Weenie," Mara muttered soto voce. It was overheard by Eiko and earned her a puzzled look.

Rhiannon, however, had pushed her way to the cage and was smelling, gingerly, an uneaten pellet of food. She nodded, as if she had somehow expected this, and looked Mara straight in the eye, "It's belladonna. Does anyone know how belladonna could have found its way into Barry's food dish?"

There was a pause that mirrored Rhiannon in its condition of being in the family way. Then Leia spoke up, "I saw Mara leave his room just before church."

Sylvite piped up, "She had more reason than anyone else to do it, anyway.

Besides, we all know how she likes to wreck things for people."

And just who organized everyone's efforts to get you and Luke together? Mara mentally asked, Me, that's who. Look how you two repay me! Little bitch.

"Did you poison Barry, daughter?" her mother asked.

All eyes were on Mara, "Yeah? So? The little bastard deserved it.

He wrecked my life four days ago and you all know it. Why shouldn't I try to wreck his? It's only some stupid old hamster."

Rhiannon looked at her husband, "May I deal with this?" Brendan nodded, "To your room, Mara, and stay there until I send someone to fetch you. We are going to conduct a very bloody inquiry on this matter and there will be consequences as soon as I get to the bottom of it. Go!"

Mara snorted, stomped off, and slammed the door behind her. Who were those jerks to think they could make judgement on her? They didn't know half of it. Even Mom . . . well, her inquiry was probably just to find out how Mara got the belladonna. It was clear no one would ever believe her about anything again. Well that was just fine with her and-what the fuck?!?

Mara took a better look at her doornob. There was no trace of the hamsterhead she had seen before. Just her eyes playing tricks on her. Maybe she should soak her head and shock her system back to normal. A brief sojourn to the bathroom behind her, Mara trudged into her room.

Out of ennui she started to brush her wet hair. Without the hairspray it was just past shoulder length. After that she inspected herself in the little mirror she kept in her desk and Mara was disgusted to see that she had started to cry. Dumb, stupid Luke and his idiotic, dead hamster.

Mara growled. Who needed 'em? They were a pack of spoiled brats, anyway. Like Leia, everyone thought she was the perfect little girl. None of them had seen some of the .MOV files on their girly-girl's computer system, that was for sure. Or the twins, everyone thought they were so damn cute but none of them had the room right next to theirs. Kept her awake all night with their jumping on the beds, not to mention pillow-fighting. Luke was a wimp most of the time, discounting when he wore his damn Tick costume, but when you weren't looking he'd bring the principal down on you. Sylvite, always jumping to the wrong conclusions and clubbing people with her energy-bat. Kodachi? She was sometimes no better than her ditz of a mother.

Her mind shifted to the elder bratpackers. Usagi? Even with three years in the twentieth century and the two in the real world as a mitigating influence, the girl still could be a royal pain. Threepio? Saner perhaps than most of her sibs, but she was never around and Mara could think of quite a few Freudian interpretations of that mallet she dragged around. Hematite? Generally okay, but last summer when she accidentally shot down Leia there was this look on her face that Mara didn't quite like. Alan? Christ in a mobile-suit! He was a Shakespeare-spouting, rose-throwing, tuxedo-wearing freak! (Albeit one that didn't hate her yet.) And Artoo . . . damn her. She was Mom's favorite and was she happy? No, Artoo would rather run off and date Kodi, even though Mom taught her all kinds of cool stuff.

Practically nobody Mara knew was any better than her and they all thought she was someone to lord over with their moral superiority. Sure, there was Daisuke, Eiko, Toji, and her parents, possibly Serenity (although no one ever knew what _she_ thought), but who else? Five or six people out of everyone she knew.

To calm herself, Mara took from her shelves the book of youma'shak poetry Margrave had given her three Christmasses ago, trying to loose herself in the verse of J'maxwell and J'ankhovik and J'b't'm and J'sarghon and J'lir and J'varn and even J'margrave . . . and it wasn't working. Out of frustration she flopped down on her bed and buried her head in the pillow.

Mara suspected she had fallen asleep, because when she lifted her head her room was much darker than before. "Bah! Humbug!" she muttered. There was a rattle of chains. "You aren't being funny, Anakin. Or Ben, if that is who you are."

"I am not Anakin nor Ben," said a morose voice, whose speaker she couldn't quite see.

Mara knew that voice, "Luna, did Mom want me?"

"I am not Luna."

Not Luna, hmm? Well, Mara knew someone whose voice was practically the same. "Okay, Hematite, what's with the rattling?"

"I am also not Hematite."

"Give me a bit of time to figure this out . . . you're one of the seiyuu from mom's old anime videos. You sound like that one lady from Gundam."

"Wrong again."

Mara sighed, "Then show yourself so I can at least see you." The room brighten considerably, showing a twentysomething woman with long blood-red hair. She looked perfectly normal, except for the fact that she was festooned with chains, one tied to a hamster, and perhaps also the fact that she was transparent. Mara grinned triumphantly, "I knew it was you, Hematite! Didn't know you were into S&M, though."

The transparent woman shook her head, "I told you I wasn't Hematite."

"And I bought Mick Jagger's umbilical cord for ten cent at

McDonalds. If you aren't Hematite, then who are you?"

"Ask me who I was."

"Picky, aren't we? Okay, who were you?"

"In life I was Beryl Maishekeli, ruler of Arcadia and later

Shaizaar," intoned the spirit.

Mara snorted, "What about the hamster? Lemme guess, he's the reincarnation of Elvis."

"You don't recognize the animal you just killed?"

"Great, Barry's back to haunt me like a bad penny. So, why are you two here to bug me?"

"It is required of every man or woman to walk the earth doing good deeds, or at least neutral ones. After life many go either to the Abyss or to the opposite but some-oh, woe is me! -- must walk the earth after death to do what deed they did not in life."

"And the chains?"

The ghost of Beryl rattled her ironmongery for emphasis. "They are the physical reminders of all my misdeeds. You have begun to forge one of your own. In time it will be as long as mine."

Mara shrugged, "Any good news?"

"Not much good news and not much time to tell it. All I have is a small hope for your own salvation."

"Tell it to me."

"You will be visited by three groups of spirits."

Mara raised her eyebrow. "Spirits? You two are enough spirits to last me a long time."

"Without these visitations there is no way for you to avoid my fate."

"Okay, okay, I'll take the spirits. When should I expect them?"

"Expect the first tomorrow as your clock reads one. The second the day after at the same time. The last the day after that at midnight."

"Can't I take them all at once and get it over with?"

"No. Goodnight, Mara, I take my leave of you. Barry, stop that snapping." With that the ghost faded out the door, moaning as she went.

"Three groups of spirits, hmm? If my life wasn't weird enough already." With that, Mara fell asleep again without bothering to undress.

End Stave One

Credit Where Credit's Due:

Without Charles Dickens you wouldn't have this parody. So blame him.

The Sailor Senshi were spawned from the genius mind of Naoko Takeuchi.

Sylvite, Kodachi, Alan, SFCers Amano and Saeba, and others were created by Mark Latus.

The therapy-group scene was originally used in as part of a character development project in my freshman drama class. (Yes, I played Mara.)

Beryl's seiyuu, Han Keiko, also happens to voice Luna and Hematite.

Thanks to Aponar for correcting my youma'shak.

Any resemblences that Mara has with Nabiki Tendo are coincidental.

Really!

The rest should be verbatum Becky Malsin. I better check . . .

Previous	Next

Next Stave: The Ghost of Christmas and Mara's Past

Fighting spirits! Youma'shak poetry! The voyuerism of seven-year-olds! Mara does the Time Warp! Ain't Christmas great?