A Third Wish for Miranda
by Phlebas the Phoenician

Chapter Seven: Only This, and Nothing More
In which a new player enters the game.

Without concious volition, Tiffany found herself hyperventilating. The prickling hairs at the nape of her neck were screaming that there was someone in the room with them, but searching looks failed to note anything out of the ordinary. Somehow the darkened room seemed much more threatening than before. Quite suddenly she wanted the reassurance of other people's voices. “'nora?”

The harp's notes came out unusually hushed. “What?”

“You okay? What's happening?” Try though she might Tif couldn't restrain the hysteria underpinning her voice.

“What do you think is happening? Someone's making a really spectacular entrance is what. How affected are you?” Though quiet, the tone was still urgent.

“A little... scared I think, but I'm holding up okay. What do I do?” Tiffany made a deliberate attempt to calm her racing pulse. It didn't work very well.

“Don't move a muscle and for god's sake don't extend an invitation. If it could bypass the wards it'd already be in here. So as long as we're inside, we're safe.” The notes that made up the harp's voice were going from a minor key to a major one as Lianora regained her confidence.

Relieved of her primary concern, Tiffany turned to check on Allen and realised she had a much bigger problem. Although he'd initially reacted much as she herself had, freezing in place like deer in the headlights of a car, he was now shivering visibly. Cringing away from the door, eyes darting around the shop, he presented the appearance of someone terrified out of his wits. “Allen? Allen!”

Tiffany was reaching out to touch him when he began to slide down the wall she'd backed him against earlier. She managed to catch him, but only just, and his weight was enough to make her stagger. Their respective heights made it excessively awkward and the best she could do was lower him to the floor in a controlled fall rather than a total collapse. He went into a foetal curl, clutching at her hands, head in her lap. She touched his hair, a little bemused by his reaction. She was frightened yes, but some of the shock was wearing off. Now that she knew that whatever, whoever, was outside could not come in, she was no longer paralysed. Scared but not terrified. Whatever was happening, it was obviously having a much worse effect on Allen than her. “Lianora? What's wrong with Allen?”

“Oh, I don't know, how about the spell of dread or maybe it's the Dullahan at the door? Take your pick.” Although the words were sarcastic, the voice in which they were said was tense and anxious. “Tif, you've got to get him under control. The state he's in, he's as like to do something stupid as not. We really don't want that. Once we're sure he's not going to ruin everything, I think we can do something about this.”

“Hate to tell you this, 'nora, but I'm not in all that great shape either.” She held up her trembling fingers by way of illustration. “I'm not sure how much more of this I can take.” There was a suggestion of unearthly laughter on the edge of hearing. The tension in the room surged upwards a notch.

“You'd better get started then.” Despite the unsympathetic statement, the fact that Lianora was still able to be her normal abrasive self was somehow comforting. “Just remember, nothing can harm you inside the store. Your blood, your wards. Believe it.”

“Oh, I do, I do.” Tiffany took a deep breath, centring herself as much as she was able. She turned her attention to the man now sobbing into her skirt. She bent over him and spoke right in his ear. “Allen! Stop it!” With a gasp he jerked away from her, flattening himself against the wall behind him, looking over her shoulder, past her at something she couldn't see. It felt like her skin wanted to crawl off her bones and curl up in a corner somewhere to hide. Still, with Lianora was watching her back, she wasn't about to turn around now, no matter how much her spine itched. Instead she reached out to him, making her voice as soothing as possible, crooning to him like she would to a wild animal. “Allen. Allen, look at me. You have to calm down, you're not helping anything, we can stop all this if only you'll let us...”

He made a sudden movement towards the door but she blocked off that avenue of escape, using her body to force him back into his previous position. He only intensified his efforts to get past her, alternately fighting or attempting to duck around her. “No, Allen! You can't leave, it's only safe inside, stop!” It was almost as if he wasn't hearing her, even though she was yelling right in his face. “Allen, it can't get us in here!” A noise somewhere between a whimper and a scream was her only answer. Not a good sign in her estimation. She grabbed his shoulder and shook him hard. “Allen! Look at me!” No response. Tiffany bit her lip. Well, she could always apologise later...

She slapped him. Hard. It made an audible crack as the palm of her hand met the left side of his face. Tiffany got the impression that Lianora was wincing at the force of the blow, but it got her the reaction she wanted. Heightened colour spread over his cheekbones as he stared down at her, anger combating the terror. Shaking from the effects of her own fury and the adrenaline pumping through her veins, Tiffany glared right back. “Look,” she hissed, “right now I have bigger problems than you. I'll apologise formally afterwards, but right now I need you in control of yourself. It's hard enough for me to resist myself without having you drag us both into your panic. Got it?”

Fine visible tremors were still running through his frame but it was now an even toss between fury and fear as to the cause. His breaths came whistling between clenched teeth and his hands opened and closed spasmodically. He still hadn't answered though. Tiffany poked him in the chest with an index finger. Between the two, she'd choose fight over flight any day. “Keep your head and we'll get out of this just fine. You can be angry at me later. Do you understand me?”

This time the reply was immediate. “Oh yes, Mistress Tiffany, I understand much more than you know.” Shoving her aside, he leapt across the room, grabbed Lianora, and was out the door in a single fluid movement.

Tiffany stared as his retreating footsteps were immediately overshadowed by the clatter of hooves. Two thoughts surfaced uppermost in her mind, popping like soap bubbles to deposit their contents. 'Oh. Crap.'