Part 19

At Manouche and Blake’s house:

Godley *to Manouche, with a wink to Raven* Are you making breakfast? Ah, breakfast's just the thing I was thinking about. Had no chance to eat anything yet. What a coincidence that is ...

Abberline: Stop it, Godley. There's no time for breakfast. *smiles at Raven, but walks immediately out to the patio with a cig*

Goldey *shrugs* He's upset over something once more.

Blake *appears in kitchen doorway, yawns, smiles* ‘Morning, everyone. Didn’t know we had company. *to Godley* Sorry, Godley, I just woke up. Let’s get you some coffee …

Manouche *pours three cups, gives one to Blake, one to Godley, picks up the third one* Cinnamon rolls comin’ up very soon, Sergeant, ‘ang on. *to Blake* Love, would y’ mind th’ oven? I’ll take this t’ the Inspector. *Blake nods, kisses her; she smiles, goes out to patio, where Abberline stands gazing out at the river, smoking. She hands him the cup* ‘Ere, Inspector, ‘ave an eye-opener. *grins* Apologies, it’s low-octane. We’ll add a shot o’ somethin’ to th’ next one fer ye, I promise. *looks at him* You all right, mate?

Abberline *takes absentmindedly the cup* Thank you. I'm all right. *Smokes for a while* Nothing is all right.

Manouche *carefully* Well ... not completely true. One thing is all right -- ye’ve made quite th’ hit with yer son. He looked fer ye first thing when he got up. Sorry I missed th’ readin’ ye did. Mr. Blake tells me ye ‘ave a flair fer th’ dramatic. *pauses, waits for response, sees just the tiniest ghost of a smile cross Abberline’s face; continues, encouraged* That lil’ mate, he comes up with th’ oddest questions sometimes. *grins* Gets it from ‘is dad, no doubt – per’aps he’ll grow up to be an investigator as well, eh? This mornin’, fer example … he’s got a word on his mind, wants t’ know what it means. He says it’s naggin’ at him, in a manner o’ speakin’. “Transaction.” Now what d’ ye suppose put that in th’ lil’ beggar’s head? Transaction … *laughs*

Abberline: Here is the transaction. *takes the letter from his pocket and hands it to Manouche* "We will be expecting full payment for the transaction. Once the deal is concluded, you will be promoted to full membership. Be ready." Do you have the slightest idea what this might be about? I had an unpleasant vision when I found this on the Commander's desk, something from the past ... they were coming after her ... when I was away ... this has to do with them. *crushes his half smoked cigarette with force and lights immediately a new one*

Manouche *reads, eyes wide* Blimey, an’ I told lil’ mate no worries. No, I ‘aven’t th’ foggiest what it’s about. “full payment … “ This was on th’ Commander’s desk? *looks at him* Are y’ sayin’ this is from th’ same blighters who came after yer …… ohh, BLAST …. *weaves unsteadily, stumbles to chair, drops down as vision quickly comes to her … everything’s a blur, confusion, running through dense foliage, in the dark … she hears heavy breathing and panting from the exertion of running, and realizes it’s her own … hears angry voices coming closer, torches illuminating the darkness, shadows of trees, leafy branches, the thick brush where she’s hiding, trying to quiet her pounding heart … hears a scream in the distance, and she stifles a sob as she recognizes her brother’s voice … then the vision is gone as quickly as it came, as if someone lifted a veil.* Oh, bloody ‘ell … wh-what could th-this p-possibly ‘ave t’ do with— *Manouche blinks, wipes the tears from her face with a shaky hand, looks up at Abberline* C-could y’ cigarette me, mate?

Abberline *concerned, hands her the cig he's been smoking, takes the letter from her and hides it again.* I shouldn't have shown it to you. So it is from them. It was about your brother, wasn't it? *Manouche looks up at him surprised* No, I can't pick your visions like Raven. But I know about your loss, I know what happened to your brother. I don't know what this full payment is about, but this concerns you somehow. Be careful. Can I get you something, or shall I call Blake? I must go back and find out more from the Commander.

Manouche *shakily* I – I’ll be all right, jus’ need a minute. H-how d’ ye know about me brother? D-does this mean … oh, Inspector Abberline, them same bastards who killed me brother … was they responsible fer what ‘appened t’ yer missus an’ child, as well? *buries her face in her hands, pauses, then looks up at him* I’m sound, mate. I won’t keep ye. Go, see what y’can find out, an’ please tell me what ye learn, when ye can. Raven’ll be safe ‘ere, no worries. *reaches out, places a hand gently on his arm* But y' be careful as well, Inspector … this may concern ye more than jus’ a past connection. S-savvy?

Abberline: Yes, they sacrificed your brother, they killed my wife and my unborn child ... Take care of Raven. *remembers Marchand and his words and falls silent for a while* And take care of yourself. Tell Sergeant Godley I'll meet him at Chez Roux later on. *He departs without going in*

At From Hell Court:

*Abberline, thinking about Marchand, heads straight for From Hell Court, descends the stairs to one of his favourite places, a small and dimly lit basement room, sinks on a sofa in the darkest corner and lights the pipe.*

Malachi *slouched in an overstuffed chair, embracing with relief the drug's numbing qualities, looks up as he hears someone coming down the stairs; sees Abberline enter the basement room. Watches him with interest as he drops down on a sofa in a far corner and lights up. Debates in his mind whether he should talk to him or just leave him be. Tries to concentrate ... though the drug is a hindrance, he can tell Abberline is hurting severely over something to do with Raven ... Raven and someone else, he can't make it out. Malachi sighs, slowly pulls himself out of the chair and to his feet, then makes his way over to the sofa, where Abberline is for the moment feeling no pain. Leans against a post, reaches into jacket for cigarettes, lights one* Well, then, Inspector, what brings you here? Little earlier than your usual time, isn't it? *smirks* I know, because it's earlier than MY usual time. Just one of those days, I guess ...

Abberline *slowly opening his eyes, it takes him a while to focus on Malachi, groans* You again. Still meddling? Since I am suspended from duty, I might as well spend my time here ... *gives in, struggles to a sitting position, leans against the wall. He takes the small brandy bottle, opens it* Care for some? I was at the Office to solve one problem for good, but got a new one instead.

Malachi *drops down on sofa next to him, takes brandy bottle* Cheers. *takes drink, passes it back* Meddling, eh? I probably deserved that. No worries, I’m not meddling. Tell me as little or as much as you wish, or nothing at all, you’re welcome to your secrets. I’ve got a new problem of my own. And guess what? It involves me personally. Messin’ about with the riddle of the damn soul box was like doing the Sunday crossword compared to my new trouble. *frowns* Well, I guess there’s a correlation, but … ahhh, never mind. I see your point about spending time here. I just may never leave. *pauses, smokes cigarette* You’ve been suspended from duty, you say? Don’t take it too hard. That Portsmith is a loose cannon, you’re probably better off. *offers Abberline a cigarette*

Abberline *takes the cigarette and smokes for a while* This is not the first time I have been suspended from my duty ... It has happened before. *shrugs, drinks brandy from the bottle* The Commander will take me back sooner or later, I know her too well. But that's not the problem. It's Marchand. It's Marchand and ... I saw him today at the lockup and he said something. It's about Raven too … you know, he seems to be able to read my mind and I just don't want him to do that now. *frowns, wants to change the subject* So what about you? What would that be about? Can there be anything worse than the soul box, I doubt that. *stops suddenly and fumbles for the letter in his pocket and drops the photo* Unless it's got to do with this. *shows him the letter* This brought to Manouche a vision about her brother. How about you? *watches him closely*

Malachi *reads letter, face goes pale* Ohh, god … it’s happening … *leans forward, crumples letter slightly as he clenches his fist, afraid he may be sick as vision of his sister fills his consciousness. He recovers, sits back up, leans against the wall, head back, eyes closed for a long time.* I’ve got no choice, now I have to tell Manouche. *Opens eyes, looks at Abberline, holds up letter* Inspector, this all comes back down to the box, so I guess you're right ... there really is nothing worse than that. Your Commander is about to do something extreme even for her, but I guess that’s what the desire for power will do to you. Not to mention her passion for fancy ceremonial costumes ... She’s preparing to join The Order … and I believe she’s planning on handing over Manouche and me. *He tells Abberline what he heard from Gili *

At Manouche and Blake’s house:

Manouche *watches Abberline leave, remains on patio a few minutes, recovering from the vision, lost deep in thought. Suddenly aware of Raven standing before her, quickly puts on a smile* Eh, lil’ mate … ahh, yer dad ‘ad t’ go fer a bit. Still has some business t’ tend to, as it were. No worries, he’ll be back before y ‘know it … *sees the concern in his face* What is it, luv?

Raven: Wh-what’s wrong? What happened, I know you feel bad. Wh-where did Father go?

Manouche: Ah, it’s nothin’, I jus’ … well, I had a dizzy spell, nothin’ serious. Yer dad jus’ went back t’ the office, I reckon. *she’s avoided his eyes as she’s been talking; now she looks at him, and relents* Apologies, luv. I should know better than t’ try to keep things from ye. Jus’ tryin’ to spare ye some worry is all. Truth is, there’s somethin’ goin’ on with th’ Commander, an’ it’s got yer dad a bit worried, mostly ‘cause it’s mysterious … an’ fer some reason, it brought back an unhappy memory from yer dad’s past. But it don’t appear t’ concern you or him, so rest easy on that’un.

Raven: But it has something to do with you, doesn’t it?

Manouche: It may. We’re not sure yet. We’ll know more after yer dad talks to th’ Commander, savvy? An’ I promise I won’t keep anythin’ important from ye. After all, I may need yer help. I always know I can count on me brave lil’ mate. *smiles*

Raven *ducks head slightly, smiles shyly from the praise; looks at her* Can I do anything for you now?

Manouche: Matter o’ fact, ye can. Let’s you an’ I go back in th’ house … tell Sergeant Godley t’ meet yer dad at Chez Roux later … an’ then we’ll all ‘ave somethin’ to eat. Them rolls should be done by now.

Raven: Manouche … will you tell me about your brother sometime?

Manouche: That I will, luv. Wish ye could’ve known each other. You an’ he, ye would’ve gotten on famously. I’ll tell ye all about him sometime soon, but not jus’ now. *holds out hand to him* C’mon, now, let’s go in.

*Raven takes her hand, she slowly stands up, they enter kitchen, where Blake and Godley are talking.*

Blake: Where’s Abberline? …. Honey, are you all right?

Manouche *smiles, squeezes Raven’s hand* No worries, love. Jus’ a bit hungry, I reckon. *sees he’s taken rolls out of the oven and they’re cooling. She turns to Godley, manages to keep from laughing at the fact that he’s staring hungrily at the rolls, barely able to wait for them to cool* Sergeant, th’ Inspector left t’ take care o’ some business of sorts. He asked that I tell ye to meet ‘im at Chez Roux later. So I suggest ye stay, ‘ave a bit more coffee an’ brekkie, after which ye can make yer way t’ said destination. That should make yer timin’ spot-on.

At From Hell Court:

Abberline *in dismay and shock, feeling the last shreds of the soothing drug disappear from his system* The twin sacrifice? She couldn't do that! She doesn't know what she's toying with. If there is any way of stopping this, I will do it. *thinks for a while* If she has received this letter, it will not be long till they appear in Deppville ... And if they don't get you and Manouche, they may even go for the Wonka twins ... *gets up from the sofa, takes the letter from Malachi.* All this dabbling in magic and evil forces is Corso's bad influence on her. It was he who told her about the Fijian soul boxes and this Order. *Looks at Malachi* You go to Manouche, I will deal with the Commander.

Malachi: I think the Wonkas are safe. Portsmith is very fond of Willy, thinks he's one of the most upstanding citizens of Deppville. Still, you never know, things can change. *sighs* Okay, Inspector, good luck. *Watches Abberline leave, finishes his cigarette. Stands up, notices the photograph of Victoria on the floor that Abberline dropped unawares; picks it up. Looks it over for a few minutes, feeling great sadness for Abberline. Tucks the photo in his coat pocket, leaves the tavern, heads for Manouche and Blake's house.

At Manouche and Blake's house:

Malachi *Stands at front door for a moment, hesitating; finally knocks.*

Blake *answers door, grins* Malachi, come in. *speaks quietly* Keep it down, though, Raven's asleep.

Malachi: Blake, I need to speak to Manouche, it's important.

Blake: She went out for a little while, I think she was gonna try to see Willy an' Madame. She hasn't seen 'em for a few days. I know she wanted to check up on Willy an' that broken wrist. They're probably either at the factory or Chez Roux ... *notices Malachi looks very upset* .... or you're welcome to wait here.

Malachi: Thanks, I think that's what I'll do, if you don't mind.

Blake *fear growing* W-would you like a drink?

Malachi: Blake, I would LOVE a drink.

At Portsmith’s office:

Abberline: Will you tell me what this is about? *tosses the letter on the desk* This is from the Order, isn't it? You can't be thinking of joining such a sinister organisation! Sacrificing lives for power?

Portsmith: Thank you for returning my letter. *snatches it* The Order – it is all about, well, order. Discpline, obeyance and rules. Submission. There is nothing sinister in that. Without it, there will be only chaos and anarchy. That sacrifice is just a way to stress the importance of joining the Order, of showing that you are serious and willing to submit to the authorities. And nowadays, it is more symbolic, so they tell me. They don't do killings anymore.

Abberline: They killed Manouche's brother and Malachi's sister, and they killed my family.

Portsmith: You are wrong about that. They did not kill them, it was as sacrifice. Can't you see the difference? And as for your wife, it is only you who are responsible for her death. It was not the Order. You left her on her own.

Abberline: No. I am responsible for her, that is right, but it was the Order.

Portsmith: That's just your hypothesis. As far as I know, no one was charged and arrested. I am not going to back out of this deal. They have promised me a place in the inner circle if I fulfill my part of the transaction, and I will do it. For some reason, they seem to value Manouche and Malachi, and they will have what they want, and they only want what is theirs. Why are you so frightened about this Order? You have been unstable ever since the pirates managed to convince that the boy is yours, that White Raven. Well I doubt he is. You don't have any proof. How can you trust those pirate wenches? They can make susceptible men feel whatever they want them to feel. Such an easy target you were, as easy as with the soul box, letting your emotions control you, refusing to let the past be gone, feeling sorry for yourself. You were looking for a family, he was looking for a father. I don't think you ever could handle being a father.

Abberline: I know that he is mine, and he needs me.

Portsmith: What he needs is a proper guardian and a good home. Kat can't give him that. Nor you, especially since I don't believe he is yours.

Abberline: Manouche and Blake could give a good home for him.

Portsmith: The Order has a better solution for this problem too, they are willing to take care of him. As for you, you think you can do what you want, disobey me, come and go as it pleases you. You think you are indispensable to me, but that is not so. None of my crew is. The Order has offered to help me with providing me some good officers. I may accept their offer. And now, *drawing a gun, pointing it at Abberline* to prevent you from interfering, I have to put you for a while in the lockup, just as I promised to do. Until the transaction is done.

*Dean steps in, with a gun* Come on, Inspector. Put your gun on the desk, turn slowly around. *Points with his head towards the lockup.* That way, please. *Corso locks him in the neighbouring cell to Nate/Marchand, who looks at them with a smirk; Abberline sinks down on the mattress.*

Corso: You can compare your experiences in the box to while the time away.

At the Security building:

Dean Corso *comes out of the Office as Sergeant Godley approaches* Ah, good to see you. The Commander is looking for Inspector Abberline. Will you tell him when you see him?

Godley *with a wary expression* He's not here, then?

Corso: No, we haven't seen him. Maybe you should look for him at From Hell Court. As usual. Good day to you, Sergeant. When you find him, tell him to be here as soon as possible!

At the lockup:

Nate/Marchand: Well, well, Inspector Fred Abberline. How nice of you to come visit me in my solitude. Yes, by all means, let’s talk about the box! I must admit, you escaped it in amazing condition. You must have a very strong constitution. It’s too bad you didn’t know how to use your time in there constructively, as I did: Absorbing the souls around you. Normally, I’m not one to be generous to my fellow man, but it was my pleasure to do those poor wretches a service. They were only flailing about in abject misery, whereas I was able to take their energy and add it to my own. Still … I’m going to have to do something soon. This fool Nate didn’t take very good care of himself. I can’t last here forever. *pauses, then looks at Abberline* So how does it feel to be on the other side of the law? Never thought we would see the day … quite a comedown, isn’t it? At least your lovely wife isn’t around to be shamed by her husband’s untimely disgrace. *laughs*

Abberline: I am not listening to you! *at Nate/Marchand's mention of his wife, he can't hold back anymore, jumps up from the mattress and comes to the bars separating their cells. Nate/Marchand, amused, steps back a few steps out of his reach* You have no right to mention her! The reason I survived the box was to keep separate from those souls, and yes, they were miserable, but so are you. Taking them makes you even worse than you were before. I'll see to it that you won't last long. You have no right to live. I will get out of here, but you won't. And if you do, I will hunt you down and destroy you.

Nate/Marchand *still laughing* One would think I would tire of seeing you Deppville men vent your anger when I talk about your strumpets, yet it never fails to amuse me. It’s the risk you took, Inspector, marrying such a beautiful, desirable woman. I had my eye on her many times. Ahh, but the Order beat me to it all, didn’t they? What a time they must’ve had with her. I can only imagine, the screams … *looks blissful for a moment, then turns back to Abberline, frowning * No right to live, you say? Who are you to make that decision? And I’d love to know how you plan to get out of here. I think I stand a better chance, frankly. I’ve already had some very interesting chats with the Commander, and she’s finally beginning to see the advantage of working with strong, ruthless forces who won’t mess about with any less than total control and order. Between talking to me, thinking about the soul box, and courting The Order … she’s like a kid in a candy store. You’re weak in her eyes, Inspector, you don’t stand a chance. If I were you, I would consider giving in, joining us. *nods at him knowingly* You have the gift, after all. Not as strong as your son or that gypsy trash, but you still have it. The gypsy and your child, they trust you. Just think … you could turn them both in before they realized what you were doing. I’m sure the Commander would be extremely impressed. *grins a very unpleasant grin*

Abberline *trying desperately but in vain to block the shocking images woken up by Marchand's words, he drops down on the mattress and covers his face with his hands, then answers him in a barely audible voice* You are lying. You are just lying to get me off balance. *uncertainly* You didn't know her. There is no way you could have known her or even seen her. *after a long pause, he goes on in a more steady voice* The Commander will listen to me if I only get the chance to talk to her. I know that she will listen to me, trust me more than you, though you and that accursed Order have blinded her eyes with lies about power. I can make her see the truth, this horrible mistake she is about to do ... There isn't a more despicable and corrupt organisation than the Order, and I would rather die than join or give them Manouche. Or Raven. Leave my son out of this. You have nothing to do with him.

Nate/Marchand *smirks* Strong talk for such a weak man. I suppose you wish you were still back at that opium den, probably wish you’d never left. The Commander isn’t blinded, she’s finally seeing the light, seeing things as they really are. Don’t you think she’s tired of being the laughing stock around here? Her authority constantly undermined? The pirates running roughshod over anything resembling law and order and decency? You’ve changed considerably in the time the Commander has worked with you, Inspector. How do you think you’re ever going to get her to listen to you now? You, who favor chasing the dragon over enforcing rules and regulations … you, who have chucked a promising career in law to investigate riddles and mysteries you cannot possibly understand … you, who have decided to befriend pirates and scallywags. I wonder what your lovely Victoria would’ve thought, you spending so much time with that whore Kat, and that gypsy pirate trash? Fine, Mr. Blake is a surprisingly resourceful young man, and for some reason he decided to marry that thieving tramp. But she’s trash all the same. He’s another one, that Blake … he’s as bad as you. Such promise, yet he insists on consorting with the dregs of society. *pauses, continues in a deadly voice* As for the boy … what makes you so sure I have nothing to do with him? Have you forgotten what I said to you before? Do you know who I am?

Abberline *stands quiet for a while searching for words, but he feels that everything Marchand said was true, horribly true. While Marchand was speaking, he even regretted having left the den, as if Marchand could see in his mind.* Yes, I may have changed. I have made mistakes ... There are moments I am not proud of. But who are you to judge me? I am still for law and order, and you are only a criminal. And I will always be against all despotism and blind obedience. As for the Commander, she still has to learn that respect must be earned. But I know the likes of you would never understand that. If it is a choice between the Order and the pirates, I choose the pirates without any hesitation. You mention Victoria once more and I will ... *stops, at a loss. There is really nothing he can do to stop Marchand, who keeps a distance to the bars.* I won't allow you calling Manouche gypsy trash, or Kat a whore. She's the mother of my son, and I won't have you speaking ill of her. *As his thoughts go to Raven, he remembers what Marchand earlier said, he has a suspicion that makes him almost feel sick* There is nothing that could link you to Raven in any way. I know who you are.

Nate/Marchand *studies him carefully* What a pity, to have that gift wasted on you. You would be surprised how often I’ve been rendered at a loss for words or action due to my outrage at the gifts bestowed on the wrong people. You, the gypsy, your son … that odd bloke from Fiji, Malachi … even Kat, to some extent, with her magic. I’ll speak any way I wish about Kat, for I share a bond with her far beyond the tawdry brief time you spent with her that somehow resulted in that extraordinary child. How that happened, I’ll never know. *pauses, then continues, voice filled with contempt* You’re so damn sure of everything, aren't you? So sure you’ve got the upper hand … so sure how things should be. When in reality, you’re merely a pathetic junkie who allowed his wife and unborn child die needlessly. *Looks at him for a moment, then sneers* So, you know who I am, do you? I could tell you things … but I don’t believe I will, not right now. I’ll save that for another time. For now, though, I’ll do you a favor – I’ll teach you a valuable lesson. You need to learn that the power the Commander and I are striving for is worth everything, worth every sacrifice. You need to learn that we’re running circles around you and your so-called mates. You need to learn that the power we seek will enable us to completely crush our enemies beyond belief. See, Inspector! See what I can reduce you to. You and all your moralistic prattle about what’s right and wrong. And just imagine, my power is only a fraction of what it eventually will be. *glares at Abberline fiercely, fills his consciousness with image upon image of his beloved wife, visions running the gamut from the two of them in happier times to intimate scenes Marchand never could’ve known … celebrations and joys they shared, as well as arguments ranging from foolish spats to her concerns about his work … to the horror of her abduction. Poor Abberline struggles bravely to shut it all out; but eventually he’s overwhelmed, and he lies on the mattress, his arms up around his head, crying out, miserable.*

Nate/Marchand *watches him suffering, sighs* There I go again, being too nice for my own good. Such a weakness. I really must get over this tendency to help others, before it gets out of hand.

In Portsmith’s office:

Corso: Sergeant Godley was here, snooping around asking about Abberline.

Portsmith *raising her eyes from colourful brochures that she got from the Order depicting different types of ceremonial robes* We don't need him here now. What did you do?

Corso: I sent him over to From Hell Court.

Portsmith: Good. That will detain him for a while. *takes a note, scribbles something on it and folds it in two* Leave this in a suitable place, in one of the places he's not yet searched. The Inspector wants him to come to my castle because he has found something important there. *Corso takes the note and leaves*

In the lockup:

*After some hours Commander Portsmith enters the lockup with a paper in her hands, walks right to Nate/Marchand* They are waiting for the transaction. Are you sure that you really can help me with the payment? Do you think they would have any use for Kat, she's also been real trouble ... *hesitating, playing with the keys* I am not sure if I should open your cell, but ... *spots Abberline still lying on the mattress, looks at him astonished and not a little concerned, trying to hide this from Marchand*

Portsmith: What have you done with him?

Nate/Marchand: What do you care? I’ve merely been showing him what a terrible mistake he’s making, choosing to consort with lowlife and remaining a slave to the dragon … when he could use his considerable gifts and join forces with us, to further my ... that is, OUR ... goals. *looks past Portsmith, sees Abberline lying motionless* Hmmm, looks like he's passed out. Perhaps I poured it on a bit thick, but I wanted to make a strong case, savvy? *laughs, then adds, impatiently* The Order has no use for Kat. This isn’t a clearinghouse for people who have caused you trouble, Commander. They want Manouche and Malachi only, and we both know why. I'm sure I can be of assist in helping you deliver them, so what are you waiting for? Let me out.

Portsmith *hastily turning away from Abberline* Er ... no, no, no, I don't really care. I warned him about the pirates, but he didn't heed me. But maybe there is still hope that he will see the way. *Takes the keys, opens the cell, lets Marchand out and casts a last worried look at Abberline *

Nate/Marchand *smiles* There's always hope, Commander. Now, leave everything to me. I work best solo when it comes to matters such as these. Your job will be to keep everyone out of my way, like that Godley character. Make sure he doesn't hear of any of this, he could be real trouble. *looks at the paper she's holding* Go ahead and contact The Order, tell them we're working on our end of the bargain, and we'll be delivering their payment shortly. *nods approvingly* Ahh, Commander, I can see you now, in one of those ceremonial robes they offer! You'll cut quite the stunning and formidable figure. Cheers. *holds out hand.

Portsmith *takes his hand and shakes vigorously. Starts to withdraw it, but Nate/Marchand holds it fast. She looks into his eyes questioningly, then realizes what's happening. She tries to pull away from him, tries to scream, but no sound comes out. Her whole being shudders as if being run through shards of glass, as Marchand changes places with her, sending her into Nate's body. Everything goes dark for her, she closes her eyes ... when she opens them, she's behind bars, locked in the cell previously occupied by Nate/Marchand. She slumps down to the floor of the cell, still unable to speak, hands clinging to the bars, as she watches Commander Portsmith -- herself -- walk to the door of the lockup.

Portsmith/Marchand *turns, sneers at her* Checkmate. *laughs scornfully as she closes the door, locks it, and heads up the stairs to Portsmith's office.*

Nate/Portsmith sees Portsmith/Marchand go; she rattles the bars and shouts for Crane, Corso, for anyone, but no one comes, then she turns to Abberline* Wake up! You got to do something!

Abberline *with a groan, opens slowly his eyes, and sits on the mattress leaning against the wall, still confused by the images sent by Marchand, looks at Nate/Portsmith. He is trying to brace himself for a new assault, knowing he can't take more*

Nate/Portsmith: He locked me in! We had a deal but he betrayed me! *seeing the pure hatred in Abberline's eyes, recoils* It's me, Portsmith. You know who I am.

Abberline *vehemently* I know who you are. What games are you playing now. *turns away*

Nate/Portsmith: Fred, you got to believe me! He took my body, just like he took yours before, and you got to help me out of here, this is all your fault!

Abberline *turns back when he hears his name, eyes Nate/Portsmith suspiciously, looks at him for long and sighs* All my fault?

Nate/Portsmith: You turned your back on me. I had no choice but to turn to Marchand because you let me down!

Abberline *resigned* Everything that happened is my fault and now I have to help you out of your very own lockup. Yes, I can hear that it is really you.

Nate/Portsmith *brightening up* Good! So what are you going to do?

Abberline: Nothing. *fumbles after a cig, lights it, shuts his eyes and ignores all further pleas and accusations coming from Nate/Portsmith.

At Chez Roux:

*Willy walks into Chez Roux, takes off hat, holds open door for Madame*

Madame *walks in, looks up, smiles* Been a while since we've been in here.

Willy *taking off coat, carefully going around his cast* Tell me about it. *Madame sits down at a
booth, Willy walks over to the bar* What would you like, love?

Madame: Ah did you figure out that Lily Kir Royale?

Willy *grins* Sure did. *begins putting it together*

Manouche *enters, speaks to Godley for a moment, knowing he was to meet Abberline.* No worries, Sergeant, I'm sure 'ell be along any time. If he don't show soon, per'aps ye should look fer him at th' Security buildin'. Me, I don't dare show meself anywhere near there these days. *Pats him on the shoulder, turns, sees the Wonkas, runs to them* Blimey, WILLY, MADAME! Ahhh, seems like an age since I seen th' pair o' ye. I were hopin' ye'd be 'ere. I decided t' get out fer a bit. Mr. Blake's back at th' house, keepin' an eye on Raven ... lil' mate fell asleep, despite all th' noise comin' from the studio open house. What a party! *looks over Willy's shoulder as he's making Madame's drink* Would y' like some assist, luv? That can't be easy with that cast o' yers. An' will ye join me in a kir royale?

Willy: MANOUCHE! *hugs her, knocks over a glass with his arm, grunts* Manouche, I would love the help sis, thank you.

Madame *rests in the booth, takes off shoes, rubs feet* How are you, love?

Manouche *finishes Madame's drink, hands it to her, starts making drinks for herself and Willy* Can't complain, luv, all's well. Did I tell ye me Mr. Blake has sold some poetry? Got a fair price fer it, too. He ... well, he's completely daft, but he wants t' spend th' majority o' his lil' windfall on a proper weddin'. I told him I don't need no coronation, but there it is. He insists. Completely absurd. *shakes her head, but she's beaming. Sets drink in front of Willy, joins them in their usual booth* Now, what's new? Madame, how ye feelin'? Time's catchin' up on us, innit? *smiles*

Willy *looks at Madame, grins widely. Madame looks at Willy, nods, beaming*

Willy *to Manouche* About that, sis ... we went to a checkup the other day ... all's well. But they're saying they could be born fairly early, even a month or so.

Madame: We want you to help deliver the babies Manouche, we know of your past, so you'd know what you were doing. We'll have a doctor there, but I want to give birth at home, not at the hospital.

Willy: So we'd also like you and Blake to stay at our place from July to August, however long it'll take so you'll be there when the time comes. Will you do it? *Madame gives a hopeful look*

Manouche *staring* Y-ye sure? I mean, I know we've talked about it in th' past ... an' it's true, there were situations where necessity decreed that I learn about deliverin' babies right quick. I delivered two in me time, an' all went beautifully, I must say. *smiles gently at the memory* Blimey ... me beloved brother an' sister, ye know I'll be there fer ye. As long as there are no complications an' ye 'ave medical assist on standby jus' in case ... aye, I'd be proud an' honored to do it. *blinks tears away, raises glass* To th' pair o' ye, an' the pair on the way! *drinks, looks at Willy* Are ye plannin' to be there from start t' bitter end, Willy, mate? Supportin' Madame, as it were? *grins*

Willy: Well yes I plan to, won’t exactly be the most uh ... appetizing sight ever … but still I plan to be there, being the father.

Madame *grins at Willy, then back at Manouche* Oh love, I'm so glad you'll do it. Of course there will be a doctor right behind ya all the way. We figured we'd play it safe. Everything so perfect now, you delivering the twins will just add to all the joy.

Manouche: By th' powers, loves, I don't know what t' say. An' havin' us stay at th' factory, it'll be like Christmas was. Mr. Blake's never seen me room, the one yer kind enough t' keep ready fer me. He'll love it, it'll be like a holiday. *pauses, thinks of something, takes a deep breath* Ah, there is one thing I should bring up. Well, two things. First ... Raven's been spending a lot o' time at our house. Kat an' th' Inspector, they're both goin' through difficulties, as it were ... an' they frequently ask us t' keep an eye on him. 'Course we're always more'n happy to oblige, it's no secret we're mad about 'im. He an' I share such a bond ... I often 'ave to remind meself he ain't mine. *smiles* But ... well, it may mean he'd be joinin' us 'ere, if Madame's time comes when we've been entrusted with his care. Y' both know he's no trouble, he's very grown-up an' won't be under foot. Are ye square with us bringin' him along, if need be?

Willy: Oh absolutely, little Raven still hasn’t even seen the factory yet! It'd be a joy to have him stay for a while.

Manouche: Aye, I reckoned that'd be yer response, an' I'm grateful, t' be sure. 'Course, we'll also 'ave t' bring Wilko ... I swear, I'll try an' keep him quiet! Beyond that ... *Her voice trails off as she considers the dangers she's still facing ... from the guardians of the soul box, from Portsmith ... and now, possibly some new trouble from the Order. She starts to speak of it, but Willy and Madame are both so aglow and happy, she doesn't have the heart. She smiles slightly* ... ahh, well, beyond that ... I'll jus' 'ave t' be sure an' have everythin' on hand I need fer th' job. An' Mr. Blake an' I will 'ave to keep these dates in mind as we consider when to plan our weddin'. Which th' pair o' ye will be heavily involved in, needless t' say. *winks, holds up glass, drinks*

Willy: Ah, I'd like to wait till after the twins before we go and do any of the wedding.

Manouche: T' be sure, luvs, we'll prob'ly plan th' weddin' fer sometime in th' fall. I told Mr. Blake it's me favorite time o' the year, an' he says it's his, as well. I thought about October, though that month is already chock-full o' cause celebre, as it were. Yer weddin' anniversary ... Raven's birthday ... me own birthday ... still, it's a beautiful month, 'specially 'ere in Deppville. Jus' th' right temperature, leaves changin', blimey, it's stunnin'. An' I also reckoned that'd give th' pair o' ye plenty o' time to recover from th' birth o' the twins. As fer Mr. Blake, if I were t' leave it to him, we'd do it tomorrow ... he can't wait, he's sillier over th' notion than I am. *beams*

Madame: Well I'm sure he is. We so thrilled for our anniversary, too.

Willy: One year ... seems like yesterday.

Madame *beams* Ya know, we were looking at the wedding pictures the other day too, had them all strewn out, it was so beautiful.

Willy: Can't wait to do it again for my own sister. *smiles at Manouche*

Manouche *smiles warmly at Willy* It'll be th' finest day fer Mr. Blake an' me, to be sure, an' havin' both o' ye with us will make it perfect. Wouldn't dream o' doin' it without ye. I been thinkin' about vows an' such ... he bein' a poet, he'll no doubt come up with somethin' brilliant right off th' top of his head. I 'ave a song I've written fer 'im, one he ain't heard yet. That may be me vow t' him. We'll see. *drinks, pauses, looks at them* So do ye 'ave plans fer your anniversary? Ye'll 'ave built-in babysitters galore, no worries there. Ye could do a little getaway, if it strikes yer fancy.

Madame *smiles* He already has it all planned out.

Willy *beams* I'm THAT good.

Manouche *laughs* Not surprisin', I've never known Willy to wait till th' last minute when it comes t' plannin'! So what's it gonna be, then, brother? Sweepin' our lovely lass off t' Paris, or per'aps an island all to yerselves?

Willy *shakes head* I shan’t tell a soul until that day. She's being blindfolded till we're even there.

Madame: I am?

Willy: Absolutely.

Madame *grins* Getting me all excited! *Willy beams*

Manouche: A surprise? I love surprises. Drinks all around! *grabs their glasses, prepares another round, brings them over to booth. Runs back to kitchen, grabs some bread, cheese and fruit, brings everything to their table.* I figure we could do with some sustenance, eh luvs? An' I did 'appen to see a chocolate cream pie back there, which we'll no doubt be forced t' try before all's said an' done. *winks*

Willy *sees food, eyes get wide, reaches over to grab bread and cheese. Madame, out of corner of eye, notices Willy is tipping over his glass, as if by instinct grabs the glass and slaps his hand*

Willy: OW! *pulls back, rubs hand*

Madame: No reaching over William, do it right. *Willy glares at her; Madame gives him her evil glare*

Willy *backs down under it, still looking at Madame, but speaks to Manouche* Manouche, pass the bread and cheese please …

Manouche *passes food to him* May as well listen t' her, mate, learn them lessons now. She'll 'ave her hands full teachin' th' twins, she never signed on fer triplets!

Willy *takes food, Madame still staring at him, quietly speaks* Thank you, Manouche.

Madame *smiles, turns back to Manouche, noticing as soon as she does, Willy dives in on a meal of cheese sandwiches, shakes head* I think I did anyway, Manouche, I hope to God that they won’t be as bad as him. *cocks head at Willy*

Willy *mouth full* Me effer. *Madame shakes head*

Manouche: No worries, luv, I've never seen it stated somewhere that manners, good or bad, are inherited. *watches Willy's wreckless abandon, grins* Still, there's somethin' t' be said fer 'is enthusiasm, t' be sure.

Willy: *looks up, grins, cheese in his mouth*

Madame: Oh, for the love of … *Willy leans over kisses her cheek* WILLY!! *wipes her cheek with a napkin, cant help but smile*

Manouche *shakes head* Then again, per'aps ye ARE signin' on fer triplets ... *holds hand up warningly as Willy prepares to throw a grape at her* Now, Willy, mate, ye know how Marijke feels about food fights in 'er place! We can always schedule a match at th' factory if yer bound an' determined ...

Willy *puts food down, swallows what he has in his mouth, moves plates* Alright that’s it … *pounds fist on the table* You’re on, sis ... you and me right now ... thumb war ... or are you wussed out?

Manouche *rolls eyes* Ahh, there's nothin' like stimulatin' adult company. An' this is nothin' like it! *takes big drink of kir royale, slams glass down, puts hand forward* Admittedly this ain't me strong suit, but ... I'll 'ave a bash. Let's 'ave at it, luv.

Willy *sets thumb up, glares* One...two...three...four... I declare a thumb war!!! *goes at it, moving his thumb, catches hers, grunts when she escapes. Madame watches as referee*

Manouche *grins as she wins two rounds in a row* Per'aps it were negligent o' me to not mention that me crew an' I used t' do this as a pastime during lulls between, ahh, adventures, as it were. I got quite good at it, really, made th' rest o' the crew most envious. *smothers laugh at Willy's annoyance as she beats him again* I still engage ol' Malachi in a good thumb war every now an' then. Blimey, he's a sore loser ... threw me overboard once after I won too many rounds in a row ...

Willy *pulls fist back, puts head down on table, pounds fist repeatedly* No no no no no no!!!

Madame *giggles* Poor Willy ... he's always used to winning ...

Willy: I even beat YOU often!!! *Madame rolls eyes*

Manouche *sympathetic, pats Willy on the back as he pounds the table* Me poor brother! I know what'll set ye right. *Runs to kitchen, returns with chocolate cream pie* 'Ere y'are, luv.

On The Apparition:

Ichabod *Having picked up the package at the jewelers, reluctantly approaches The Apparition. Wonders if he should just forget it and go home. Considers Manouche's words, thinks, I'll try. Boarding the ship, he sees no sign of anyone and descends below. Makes his way to the captain’s quarters. She's there, but appears to be asleep. Crossing the room quietly, he looks at her. Removes the package from his coat, considers waking her but hesitates thinking that it would only annoy her. His eyes drop to the package in his hand uncertain. A soft feminine voice speaks to him, asking*

What's wrong luv?

Ichabod *answers without thinking nor looking up.* Everything.* The voice speaks to him again*

Tell me, luv.

*He feels a hand on his shoulder, someone behind him. Startling him into looking up. Kat still sleeps on the bed before him. Looking quickly over his shoulder, he sees Kat standing behind him. He turns, stares at her.* What's happening? How can this be?

Kat *smiles, glances at the sleeping figure* I think it's something to do with the tattoo. *whispers* Maybe she's dreaming. Maybe you're dreaming.* Touches his face, kisses him.* Perhaps I should wake her.

Ichy *stops her* No! Don't. Who are you, if not Kat nor Kidd?

Kat: But I am Kat, just as Kidd is. The difference is, I'm the part she keeps hidden from everyone, Kidd, you and even herself. *looks into his bewildered eyes* Walk with me. *Reaches out to take his hand, encounters the package there. Taking it from him.* What's this?

Ichabod *sadly* It's nothing. Nothing at all. *Reaches out, tries to retrieve it.*

Kat *refuses to give way. Draws it back opens the card and is silent. Opens the box, stares at the pendant. Her eyes fill with tears.* Why do you say it's nothing? You're wrong, it's everything. *Closes the box and hands it back to him.* Promise me when she wakens you will give it to her.* Taking his arm, she turns him to face the sleeping Kat and backs away.*

Ichy: You don't understand, she won't feel the same way. *Looks back, but dream Kat has vanished.* Where are you? Come back.

Kat: Who are ye talking to?

Ichabod *Sighs turns once more toward the bed. Drops his gaze to the package* No one.

Kat *softly* What's wrong, luv?

Ichy *startled, eyes meet hers* What did you say? Never mind, I have something for you.

Kat *takes the package from him. Opens the card, then the box; removes the pendant. Her eyes fill with tears, she looks at him.

Ichy *softly* Walk with me.

*As they walk out, Ama appears in the doorway. Smiling, she watches them go.*

At Manouche and Blake’s house:

Manouche *returns home after lunch with Willy and Madame, in high spirits. Enters house, is surprised to see Malachi. Starts chatting happily as she kisses Blake, takes coat off, hangs it up* Eh, Malachi, mate, good t’ see ye. Blimey, we ‘ad a grand time! I hadn’t seen Willy an’ Madame fer so long, it seemed. Poor Willy, I thrashed ‘im at thumb wars, but he took great solace in Marijke’s chocolate cream pie, so no worries. An’ listen t’ this, love … they’ve asked me t’ officiate, as it were, over th’ birth o’ th’ twins. I’d once told ‘em how there were several times back in th’ day when I found meself ‘avin’ to assist in a childbirth, an’ Madame ‘as decided she wants me there. We’re invited t’ stay at th’ factory when it gets close to Madame’s time, so I’ll be at th’ ready when it’s time to, well, stand an’ deliver, if y’ wanna put it in highwayman terms. Such an honor, I were quite overwhelmed by it … *voice trails off as she notices the grave expressions on their faces* Wh-what’s wrong? Is somethin’ amiss?

Blake *comes over, puts arm around her, leads her over to sofa* Honey, Malachi’s been waiting for you ... he has somethin' to tell you. *Has her sit at end of sofa next to comfy chair where Malachi is sprawled, frowning down into a nearly depleted glass of brandy* It … it’s about that letter the Inspector showed you earlier.

Manouche *looks up at him, then over to Malachi, back to Blake* Ahh, love … would ye mind very much bringin’ me a drink?

Blake *pours glass of rum, brings it to her. Listens, hears a sound coming from the back of the house* I think Raven’s awake. Y-you two go ahead … I’ll go keep him occupied. *He leaves them to it, goes to Raven’s room, where Raven is just waking up from a nap*

Raven *smiles as Blake peeks in* Have you come to tell me a story?

Blake *enters room, grins, sits on edge of bed* A story? You get a story before you go to sleep, not when you wake up.

Raven: It doesn’t have to be that way, does it? C’mon, please? An’ could we go to Chez Roux tonight for dinner?

Blake: We’ll see, son. So, a story, eh? Lessee … once, a long time ago, there was a young man who was very rich, and very desirable to all the young women of his village. An’ he fell in love with a swan. Everyone thought he was crazy, they said, what could you possibly have in common with a swan? But he couldn’t help himself, he thought the swan was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Every day, he would go to the river, where he had first laid eyes on her, an’ they would spend whole days together by the river, happy, communicating with each other in a way no one else could understand. Now in the village, there also lived a sorceress who was wicked and selfish, but very beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the land. She had her sights set on the young man … well, more on his money … an’ wanted to marry him. But he only had eyes for his swan. So one day, she disguised herself, appeared before the man and the swan, saying she was a fairy and would grant them a wish, which, she explained, she could do by channeling their words through herself. The swan was wary, and told the man so; but the man was so excited at the idea of a wish, he charged ahead with it. He said, "I wish to be with my love forever and ever, and all my riches hers." In a flash, he found himself linked with an invisible chain … to the fairy, who now revealed herself as the sorceress. She laughed and said, "You should’ve been more careful how you made your wish. Your words became my words, and I am now linked to my love forever and ever, and all your riches are mine." The poor man begged and pleaded with her to have mercy, that he didn’t love her, he loved the swan. But she wouldn’t listen to him. The swan then spoke to the sorceress, saying if she would release the man, the swan would disappear, never to be seen in the area again. The sorceress thought this sounded like a good idea – because, truth be told, she wasn’t crazy about the idea of being shackled to the man all the time, much as she claimed to love him. With the swan gone forever, she wouldn’t have to worry about him running away. He would see that there was no other way but to stay with her. So she said "very well," and with another flash, the invisible shackles were gone, and the man was free. At the same time, the swan disappeared … and in her place, standing in the water, was a gypsy woman, pretty, but not nearly as beautiful as the sorceress. The sorceress laughed … until she saw how the man was staring at the gypsy, how he walked into the water to her, took her hand in his. Then the sorceress became very angry, screaming at the man, "She’s nothing! I’m far more beautiful, more powerful, and I now have all your riches." An' the man said, "You can have all my riches, and you can keep your powers, such as they are … "

*They suddenly hear from the living room Manouche sobbing. Raven looks at Blake, frightened.*

Blake *glances toward the door, looks at Raven, his expression sorrowful; finishes the story, his voice very soft* … "I only want my swan."

On the streets of Deppville:

Dimitri *Hurrying along street headed for Manouche's home. His mind full of the mistakes he made the night before, wondering if he made any with Manouche. When he arrived, would his connection to Manouche hold or fall apart, as it had with Kat? On the street suddenly he vaguely recognizes someone coming toward him; it's Portsmith. He considers having a word with her but then the closer she gets to him the more he realizes something's not right. Portsmith is closer now … horrible images one after another have begun flashing through his mind. Instinct kicks in and he turns away from Portsmith. As she brushes past him, it comes almost clear to him. Portsmith's not Portsmith. But how?? He looks back towards the way she had come, wondering where the real Portsmith was and why. As he ponders, he becomes aware of being the object of someone's attention, he turns and is face to face with Ichy.*

Dimitri: Constable Crane, is it not? How can I help you?

Ichy: I saw you last night? Chasing after Kat like that. I was led to believe ghosts were your usual prey. What was that about? Did she steal something from you?

Dimitri *Hesitates only briefly* In a way, you might say that, yes.

Ichy *Sighs* Strange, stealing is usually Manouche's province, but tell me what it is and I'll retrieve for you.

Dimitri: No … no, don't concern yourself. But there is something else you can do. If you could get me into Deppville lockup unnoticed, I'd gladly forget the whole thing.

Ichy: I see. You've heard about Abberline being locked up, then. A bit shocking, it was. Come along then. *Dimitri decides to not enlighten him. They enter lockup*

At the lockup:

Dimitri *Walks near the cells studying the man in the first cell. Under his breath* Portsmith ...

Nate/Portsmith *after the fifth or sixth cig* Fred, will you stop that sulking and think of something.

Abberline: What? Look, when you locked me up, you forgot to provide me with the spare key. Besides that, there's nothing I can do.

Nate/Portsmith: No need to get sarcastic.

Abberline: How could you make any deal with Marchand? And be so incredibly stupid as to let that monster loose on Deppville? And you locked me up with him.

Nate/Portsmith: I admit he is bad, but calling him a monster is a bit farfetched. You should listen to him for once. He is very insightful...

Abberline *wiping his face with his sleeve, wryly* I know.

Nate/Portsmith: Fred, it is all about respect. You never showed me any.

Abberline: You don't look very respectable now. And respect has to be earned. *They both fall silent. Portsmith, waiting for something to happen, for Corso or Crane to appear, Abberline thinking of Raven, who usually can tune on him*

Nate/Portsmith: Someone's coming! *Looks in amazement at the strangely clad man, then at Ichy.* Finally! Ichabod, let me out immediately!

Dimitri *Standing directly in front of cell door moves closer studying Portsmith/ Nate/Marchand. Smiles* But of course, Constable I regret to inform you that this is your Commander. She has become yet another victim of Marchand's soul-swapping talents. *Steps away* You must release her.

Ichy:* Uncertainly moves forward turns key in lock as the door opens Dimitri deftly shoves Ichy into the cell with Portsmith slams door, locks it, snatches key, backs away.*

Dimitri: Sorry, Commander. I truly regret this, I really do. I can see very clearly how Deppville's best interests are of the highest importance to you, but you must see that by releasing you now in this body would give Marchand another avenue of escape. A spare body to invade, you see.

Nate/Portsmith *horrified* What do you mean? I want my own body back immediately! Open up this cell! *turns to Ichy and slaps him* Not much of a help, are you!

Abberline *who's been watching with interest this scene, finally rises up and approaches the bars* Will you let me out?

Dimitri *Glances at Abberline, but before he can answer, something unexpected fills his mind. Turns startled eyes back to the two in the other cell.

Ichy *With a strange look on his face, pushes Nate/Portsmith into the cell bars* I have had enough. No more!!! Unlike some others I could name, I have always been loyal to you. Following your orders without question. But I'm through. I'll not be abused this way anymore … Not by you! Not by Kidd, not even by Kat!!! I quit!!!

Dimitri *Bemused* Seems the tide has turned. *Looks back to Abberline* When I release you, will I have earned your trust? I wonder ... *Turns key, freeing Abberline*

Nate/Portsmith *astonished, gives Ichy a sharp blow* You've never been much of an officer anyway. *Looks at him* Respect has to be earned, as I today heard. *Turns her attention to Abberline and Dimitri* No, you can't let him out!

Abberline *steps out of the cell, watching closely Ichabod with amusement* Didn't know he had it in him. *Looks at Dimitri* I don't know you, so I cannot say I trust you. Yet. Thanks. *gives him a suspicious look* You are the one that Kat fled from?

Dimitri: Kat?? Yeah, she ran from me. Still trying to understand what I did so wrong. There has to be a way to fix it as well as earn your trust … that is, if my bond with Manouche, flimsy as it was, hasn't crumbled as well. With Marchand on the loose again, I'm afraid time is running out.

Abberline: I don't understand you. What is it you want me to do? And I'll have to tell you that anything, anyway with Kat goes wrong.

Nate/Portsmith: Abberline, don't you dare to leave this office without opening this cell!

Abberline *ignoring her* Wouldn't finding Marchand be the most important thing?

Dimitri: *Somewhat frustrated* Listen, all of you people have been going at the box haphazardly. It's a wonder you're all still alive. How can I explain? There are ancient ceremonies attached to the box as there are with all such magical or supernatural devices. These ceremonies may seem dispensable to the unsuspecting but actually are very necessary. This box requires a bond or connection between all the aspects. The aspects would be Manouche, Kat and yourself in this case. I am here to act as that connection or anchor if possible. With Dreamers such as you and Manouche, the connection is easier in that if trust is given, then both parties are open and receptive and it flows both ways. Kat is altogether a different problem. With her blocked from her gifts, it'll be a one way street.

Abberline: I have heard of different kind of ceremonies ... There is no way you can ever make me go near the box again. *suspiciously* How do you know so much about the box? *even more suspiciously* One way street?

Dimitri: I know about the box because I've spent most of my life investigating such things. *Sighs* Not all members of the Dark Circle are pleased with the recent endeavors of the current leadership of the Circle. I was hired by those individuals who would prefer to reseal the box and return it once more to a dormant state. *Pauses* Should I remind you that your son is also an aspect of the box. As long as the box continues unchecked, his life is endangered. As for the one way street, it means exactly what it implies. If that bond is completed and the sacrifice made and accepted, there will be no going back. But that only concerns Kat, no one else.

At Manouche and Blake’s house:

Blake and Raven *run to living room, where Malachi has told Manouche everything he heard from Gili, and from Abberline ... and his own past with the Order, so similar to hers. He's pulled his chair closer to Manouche; head lowered, he is holding her hand as she lies on sofa weeping, her face buried in a pillow. Blake sits down next to her, takes her in his arms; Raven comes up, tries to put his arms around her*

Manouche *looks up, eyes red, sees Raven* A-apologies, luv ... I'll be sound, I jus' ... I need a minute ... *Blake holds her close*

Raven: What is it? I don't ... *his voice trails off, eyes widen* Manouche ... Marchand has escaped ... Father is in trouble ...

Malachi: What? Marchand escaped, are you sure?

Raven *nods* Father ... he ... no, wait, I don't know where he is now ... I thought he was locked up ...

Malachi: Damn it, what the hell is going on?

Blake *voice grim* I don't know ... but I'm gonna go find out.

Manouche *looks up at him, tears in her eyes* N-no, love, ye mustn't. S'dangerous ...

Blake: Someone has to find out what's happening. What're we supposed to do, just stay here an' hide until someone or something comes for you? I'm goin' to the Security office. You an' Malachi don't dare go near the place. Portsmith is probably there, she may have reinforcements. If she captures you both, she'll ... she'll turn you over to the Order for sure. Malachi, you said the Inspector went to talk to Portsmith ... we need to find him, see what he found out. *looks at Raven* You don't see him now?

Raven *shakes head* I ... I think he was thinking of me, but not now. I'm sorry ... I don't know where he is.

Blake *looks at his worried face, manages a smile, ruffles his hair affectionately* Don't worry, son, we'll find him. I'll find out what's goin' on. *stands up, Manouche tries to hang on to him, he gently but firmly settles her back on the sofa* Honey, I have to do this. Don't worry. Stay here, be safe. *leans down, kisses her deeply. Looks at Malachi* Please stay here, take care of 'em both. Er ... well, all three of you watch after each other. *tries to smile reassuringly. Walks over to cabinet, removes two pistols, hands one to Malachi.*

Manouche *jumps up, throws her arms around him, whispers* P-please, love, don't go ...

Blake: I have to. *kisses her again, gazes at her lovingly for a moment.* I'll be back before you know it. Keep the doors locked. *looks at Raven* Don't go flyin' off anywhere, son. Stay here, take care of Manouche for me. *Raven nods; Blake turns, leaves house, not quite sure where to go; heads for Security building.*

At the lockup:

Abberline: Are you saying that the box doesn't have to be opened and destroyed in the way the shamans in Fiji explained to me? Then you must indeed know more than I about it. I want that box out of here, but even if the box was sealed and hidden, how could they be sure that it would not be stolen once again? I would never trust a single member of the Dark Circle, after all they have done to me. *Casts one more glance towards the cells* We better be leaving now, before someone comes. Listening at approaching steps* Unless it is too late already ... *Before he completes his words, the door opens and Blake appears.*

Blake: Inspector ... I was hoping I'd find you. Raven's worried about you ... an' he said Marchand's escaped. Malachi's at the house, he's told us about the Order. Manouche is ... she's taking it all pretty hard ... Did you get to talk to the Commander? *looks at Dimitri* Oh, I remember you, you came over with Kat.

Abberline: Yes, Marchand has escaped. Look, I will explain it later but it is of utmost importance that we'll find Marchand before he lays his hands on Manouche and Malachi. *gives Dimitri a vexed look* You are talking in riddles and there is no time for that. *gets his revolver from the Commander's room, addresses Blake* As for the Commander, she locked me up. With Marchand. *remembers the mental thrashing he got from him, all the venomous words that Marchand poured over him, all the images he was tortured with, wipes his eyes with his hands* I'll take him down if that's the last thing I do.

Dimitri: Very well. Why don't you two run along and when you're all done playing he-man ruler of the universe and maybe killing almost innocent people let me know. How's that? With any luck at all, the real Portsmith will still be breathing and Marchand will not have bounced into yet another unknown body. But then, he's possessed you before, Abberline … that would make you an easier target for him so Blake by this reasoning at that point just shoot Abberline, eh? *Mutters* Bloody fools ..... *Walks away*

Abberline *following him, offended* I am not an easy target! Since you know everything please tell then what to do with Marchand! For goodness sake, he's giving Manouche and Malachi to the Order, and here you stand wasting time with your riddles!

Blake: With all due respect, Dimitri, I’m leanin’ toward going after Marchand, an’ I’ll tell you why. If it’s too complicated to figure out what to do with the box, then maybe we should start by getting rid of our enemies. We may not solve all our problems by killing Marchand, but … it sure will give me a lot of satisfaction. After all he’s done to my girl … An’ as for the Commander … *looks at Abberline sympathetically* … she locked you up with Marchand? She’s gone way too far. I’m … I’m not sure I would trust myself around her when I see her again. She’s willing to hand over Manouche and Malachi, like they’re her property … hand them over to those murderers … *pauses, removes glasses, rubs eyes; looks at them both, anguished* I – I’m at a loss. I don’t know what we should do.

Dimitri: I didn't say I didn't understand your motivation. It's also clear at this point that there's a great deal of anger pointed at Portsmith and understandably so. But there's more here than meets the eyes. Portsmith's weaknesses and flaws have been played upon, used and affected by Marchand's powers. She to is a victim in this. Her desire to create an orderly utopia in Deppville has been corrupted far beyond her own limits. Marchand has taken her dream and made it a nightmare. Don't you see? Spilling her blood will solve nothing. Marchand will continue and laugh at your efforts

Blake: Why all this talk about the Commander? *looks at both of them* I thought we were goin’ after Marchand. Has something else happened I don’t know about? What’s he done to Portsmith?

Abberline: You want to see yourself? *nods towards the lockup* I don't know about you, but I am going after Marchand.

Dimitri: Damn. We have got to stop him. *Looks at Blake* It's like this short version Marchand now resides in the body of Portsmith, while the real Portsmith is confined in lockup in the body of Nate ...

Blake: My god, he’s done that again? So if we see Portsmith, it’s really Marchand. But if the Inspector kills Marchand … won’t Portsmith be stuck in Nate’s body forever? But maybe he doesn’t care about that. *hesitates, then runs after Abberline* Inspector, wait! What’re you plannin’ to do?

Abberline *stops and waits for Blake* First, I have to find him. There must be some way. As for the Commander, she hasn't been exactly nice to me, has she? Why should I care about her? I don't care anymore what happens with her, but I don't want to see Nate, either. I can't forgive what she's done and trying to do. She locked me with Marchand, and he ... he defiled what I had left, my memories. He saw right through me ... *stops in confusion* Frankly, I don't know what to do, but I can't just stand here and wait. I want to kill him, but ... *looks at Blake, then on the ground* Am I really an easy target? Will he just perform a swap if I take him down?

Blake: I don’t know. *thinks for a moment* He … he must not be able to just enter anybody at any time, or he would’ve been out of Nate long ago. The person must need to be close by, at least. An’ … like Dimitri says, he must prey on the person’s weaknesses. That's what he was doing with you. I know you don’t want to see Nate, an’ believe me, neither do I, after the things he did to Manouche … but it might be helpful to talk to Portsmith. Ask her if she can remember what Marchand did right before he swapped with her. Maybe then we could find a different way to catch him before he can possess anyone else. *He turns, sees Dimitri watching them with an expression he can't quite read.* Well, Dimitri? What would you have us do? Surely you agree that gettin' Marchand under control would be a good move.

Dimitri: Controlling Marchande would be a most excellent move. That is if you think we'll be able to keep Abberline from killing anyone in the process. *Turns to Abberline* I should have left you locked away, it seems.

Abberline: Thank you. Well, come and lock me up then. *gives an icy glare at Dimitri, turns around and returns to the Office, goes to the lockup, sits down on the chair behind the desk. Nate/Portsmith and Constable Crane are at the opposite ends of the cell sulking at each other.*

Nate/Portsmith *brightening* You got the key?

Abberline: No. And even if I had it, I wouldn't let you out. Better for you to stay there.

Nate/Portsmith *disappointed* Fred, you've got to let me out.

Abberline: Listen very carefully. You didn't mean all what you said about Raven, did you?

Nate/Portsmith: Of course not! I didn't mean it! I just tried to irritate you. If you are not going to let me out, why did you come back?

Abberline: How could you? How could you scheme with a monster like Marchand?

Nate/Portsmith *cringing* Fred, you got to understand … He was the only one who understood me, or so it seemed. He had such great ideas, such a powerful man ... I admit, I knew he was a bit bad. He knew what he wanted and how to achieve it … well, that's what I thought. Whereas you were always ...

Abberline *interrupting him* ... a worthless junkie.

Nate/Portsmith *quickly* No, no, no, well that is a nasty habit you have and *sniff* unlike you, he seemed to like me. See, it began with the ferrets ...