A month had passed, and Victor sat on the floor of the professor's office with hundreds of journals stacked around him. He and Dr. Mason had gone through them all, and the results were frightening. Lovedae knelt behind him, massaging his neck and shoulders. The Duo sat beside him with worried looks on their young faces.

He hadn't told them the author left emotional imprints on the pages. The raw sensations were there for him to absorb, feel, to experience. Each night as he lay shivering in bed from the effects, Princess called to him mind-to-mind and comforted his ragged emotions. Victor trusted the witch and their conversations as lying was impossible.

Victor, separate yourself from the imprints. What you feel is in the past.

He sighed. It doesn't feel like... the past when you're in... them, Princess.

Are you shielding?

I was blocked from... emotions for years. Hiding from them doesn't sit... well with me. Victor had grimaced but felt pride that his mind speaking had improved. Things still dicey... in the Tribunal?

Thanks to our new speaker, it's easy to see the divide in the Tribunal. There's a change in the wind. Walk carefully, Victor.

You too, love.

Victor pitied his late father's fate as he steadily reviewed each journal, leaving Dr. Mason to record in a trove of notebooks. And now, it was time to share their findings with the family.

"Drink some water, dear boy."

Rosetta hopped up and retrieved a water bottle for Victor. He took the offering with a smile, sipping the liquid slowly.

"One man, one soul, forced to live repeatedly, his life force taking over those of his own children." Dr. Mason leaned forward in the desk chair. "It's a ritual for the Grant men to keep journals. They're quite methodical about it as a means of recording history and warning later generations by intertwining the messages with everyday writings."

"Creepy," said Jason. "Now I know why Dad wanted me to journal."

"Yeah, but you only record stupid stuff, like the biggest booger of the week." Rosetta sat next to Victor, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Poor Daddy!"

The doctor consulted his notes. "Let's start with Garrett Grant, who realized too late that the young beauty he married, Birgit Breen, was responsible for keeping his essence alive. His love for Birgit was all-encompassing, but as he grew older and fell ill, he begged her to finally let him go to his eternal rest. Her reply was, 'You promised me forever.'" He sighed. "His forced existence continues until she can find a way—"

"To make him immortal." Lovedae shivered. "It's a love story gone wrong."

"I agree, Mum. Anyway, after Garrett died, his son Alan, a talented carpenter, changed," said Victor, taking up the story. "The bloke gave up carpentry and went to school to become a schoolmaster, all funded by his mum, Birgit."

Lovedae frowned. "Did he still do carpentry?"

The doctor shook his head. "His talent and interest waned. As time went on, Garrett's persona took over from the remnants of Alan's. Even though Garrett was now Alan, this time, he had more clarity on what had happened, that his son died to extend his life. He drank heavily and fell into a depressive state."

Lovedae wandered over to the picture window, gazing out at the setting sun. "Craig's father, David, was killed in an accident when he was a child."

"The change happened to him quite young. As Papa aged and studied the journals, he began to question, remembering unusual events after his father died and during his sickness." Victor crossed to his mother, wrapping his arms around her. "I lived here several years before full clarity came to Papa. He discovered that Brigit appears every fifty years or so to keep her DNA in the line or because she misses Papa."

"Craig highlighted that part." The doctor frowned. "I think it was necessary for the transformations."

"I forced him to do what he didn't want to," Lovedae whispered. "Marry and start a family."

"Papa loved you." Victor turned his mother to face him. "Somehow, I stopped the cycle, but it's been about fifty years, and we believe Birgit is back. She has to be the One Magi who orchestrated my breakdown for a reason. I don't understand why with truly Papa gone, but if she's decided to start the cycle again with Jason, I need to stop her."

"Why didn't Birgit stop them from writing?" asked Rosetta.

"She didn't care. The transformation appears to be automatic," replied the doctor.

Jason hopped up, horror on his face. "I don't wanna hafta hook up with some million-year-old murderer! Give me a swimsuit model." 

"You know, I remember a time when you claimed men and women weren't compatible." Victor smiled at the memory, which succeeded in lightening the mood. 

Rosetta stifled a giggle.

"Liar." Jason scowled. "Never happened."

"Bet," replied Victor—and the scene suddenly changed. There were slight differences in the room, the computer was an older model, and the tattered rugs Lovedae had managed to throw out were back. Dr. Mason disappeared, and Professor Craig sat at the desk, teacup in hand. Thirteen-year-old Victor perched on the edge of his chair, and Jason, no more than seven, lay on the floor sorting through his collection of baseball cards.

Lovedae muffled a screech as she tried to gather her younger children close, but both broke away. Jason's face was alive with interest. "I wanna see," he said to his mother, who plastered herself against the window. "Say, Vic, I remember this!"

Victor said nothing, not realizing what he'd done. Smiling, he'd lost himself in the memory.

"Sir, it's not fair. Carissa likes Nick, and he's over the moon about her," exclaimed the younger Victor. He'd worn his hair shorter back then but remembered the Dr. Who t-shirt he wore quite well. Somehow Kristy was its new owner. "They were only eating lunch together."

"Calm yourself, dear boy." The professor sipped his tea. "The young woman's parents arrived here from Iraq, correct?"

"Yes, sir." He rose and began to pace. "They took Carissa home. She returned to school today and told Nick they couldn't be friends anymore. He was heartbroken. She confessed her parents said she's not to associate with him." Victor threw frustrated hands in the air. "I can't wrap my head around it."

"Victor, there are cultures that migrated here where the rules and standards sit outside the norm of what America, the great melting pot, considers acceptable. I've run into this situation with several Arab American female students. They complain that associations with non-Arab men are seen as scandalous and shameful. But for the men, the families are initially reluctant with non-Arab women but become more accepting as time passes."

"It's poppycock," declared Victor with righteous indignation.

"Not to me." Little Jason picked up a card, scanning the back. "Boys should only marry boys anyway."

Victor frowned. "Why's that, mate?"

Jason gave the older boy a superior look. "Duh, because girls got cooties!"

In the present, Rosetta burst into laughter. Jason chuckled at his past self. "I was—"

Past and present froze, startling Victor. He gazed at his mother, the Duo, even the immobile Professor Craig, who seemed as if he'd choked on his tea at little Jason's remark. No one moved.

"What in blazes did I do?" Victor cried as he turned in a circle.

"Don't get so worked up, mate." The voice was his. Victor turned and gaped at his thirteen-year-old self. "It's a nice memory, but you need to crack on. You've bought time, but not enough."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Your presence bought time to end the suffering." Green eyes of the past bore into the eyes of the present. "You've almost got it. You're close. Look around at what's missing."

Victor sighed as he gazed around the room. "Must you speak in riddles?"

"I'm torn between you and a promise." A smile formed on the younger face. "Keep at it, there's a good fellow, and you'll get it." He stepped back. "You'd better let go. Staying out of time for too long is dangerous."

Victor opened his mouth... as his mother scolded Jason while Rosetta pretended to cry.

"There was no need to swat her, Jason," said Lovedae.

"It was a love tap," mumbled Jason.

"Mum?"

"I'd appreciate it if you stop meddling with that accursed magic." When he nodded, Lovedae gave him a half-smile. "But, Vic... thanks."

He understood what she meant—seeing her beloved husband again. But, trust the Duo to have one of their infamous battles to spoil the magical moment. Rosetta must have teased Jason about his comment, and the younger boy became incensed. Trust them to ruin the magic!

"Victor, you look drained. The vision must have tired you out," said Dr. Mason.

He needed time to think. "I'll head to bed." He stopped to kiss his mother then nodded toward the doctor. "Thank you, sir. We'll press on tomorrow."

"My pleasure, Victor. It was wonderful reliving that tender moment with you all." His smile turned sober. "There's an enemy out there possibly masquerading as a human. We need to be on guard."

"Aye, sir."

Victor showered, then hopped into bed. As he snuggled down to sleep, he realized the missing object was not in the past but the present. "Dr. Mason," he muttered. "He wasn't there... I wonder why?"

He'd look into it later. Considering he possessed the magic, figuring it out should be a cinch.

Spring made a grand entrance, and even Victor fell victim to its call. Such a beautiful morning—the air crisp and the birds chirping their melodious songs. With Lovedae spending the day with Dr. Mason, he'd made breakfast for the Dueling Duo before retiring upstairs to study for chemistry. The restful atmosphere of the morning enchanted him to the degree that even 'spontaneous and nonspontaneous reactions' made sense.

He'd just started the practice test when the fire alarm went off. Next came the raised voices of the two children whose hair-raising antics could sour milk.

The Duo.

"What in blazes have the humans done now?" The smell of smoke wafted through the air. Victor flew downstairs, his feet barely touching the carpeted stairs in his haste. Acrid smoke drifted out of the kitchen. But what he saw when entering had him gaping at the sheer stupidity.

An unidentifiable item burned merrily on the glass top stove, the orange and white flame raging, sending dense smoke billowing upward. Rosetta held a cloth over her nose as she swatted at the fire with an apron. But Jason's actions had Victor questioning the boy's sanity. He'd pulled his sweatshirt up to cover his nose and mouth as he shot water at the blaze from two hand-held water guns, making the inferno worse.

The muttonheads were fanning the flames and splattering what he suspected was burning grease!

The Duo were doing everything he'd taught them not to do. A seething Victor waded into the ruckus as his watering eyes started to glow. The magic began depleting the oxygen near the fire, including where the silly humans stood!

The water guns and apron fell to the floor as both children gasped for air. "Bloody hell!" Victor pushed down the panic and stopped the air deprivation, tightening the area surrounding the stovetop. With no fanfare, the flames extinguished, and all went quiet in the kitchen.

Victor clenched his teeth. "Are you okay?"

Jason nodded, but Rosetta's voice quivered with nervousness. "I... think... so."

Victor gazed at the soot-covered walls, the remains of a burnt pan, and a melted lump of plastic. A package of Oreos lay on the floor, along with broken eggs and an empty bottle of vegetable oil. A spilled box of pancake mix lay on the counter. He glared at them, knowing what caused the catastrophe.

"Thanks." Jason gave Victor a shaky grin. He picked up his water guns and placed them on the grimy counter. "We almost had it under—"

"No, numbskull, you didn't. You bloody well did everything you shouldn't do for a grease fire and nearly burned the kitchen down!" The more Victor thought about it, the angrier he became. "I can't believe you'd do something so dimwitted! Do you think we bought the bloody Class B fire extinguisher as a decoration? Thank goodness I was here."

Victor turned back to the smoke-damaged kitchen. His emerald eyes glowed again as the soot and smoke damage repaired itself. He turned toward the children when it was done, waiting for an apology.

Jason's eyes showed hurt, and Rosetta's lips began to tremble. Neither child said anything.

The silence made him livid. "Don't bloody well stand there looking sorrowful, you gits! Apologize to me. I just saved your butts."

Rosetta burst into tears. Jason, usually her tormentor, now stood before his little sister and glared back at Victor. "Sorry, we ain't got superpowers. So, you helped! Thanks! Now leave us alone, One Magi!"

How dare the child insult him! He had the magic. He had saved the day! He advanced on his brother with clenched fists. But Jason didn't back down—and Victor's anger dissipated like air out of a damaged balloon. In all his days with the Grants, he'd never screamed at the Duo like that, and they'd done much worse. Bitter regret swelled in his throat.

Victor gazed at his siblings, one in tears, the other defiant, and felt shame. What had gotten into him? He rushed to them, wrapping strong arms around them, pulling both resisting children toward him. "Jason, poppet, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

But he did. It was superiority.

He continued whispering apologies and felt relief when Rosetta reached upward. He swooped her up in his arms, and the girl buried her wet face on his shoulder.

"I shouldn't have blown up like that, poppet. I'm so sorry."

But Jason continued to glower. "What's wrong with you? You so high and mighty now that you're gonna treat us like 'lesser beings'"?

"No!" Victor remembered when the minister had called the Duo the hateful term. "I was wrong, Jason."

Rosetta wiped her cheeks with a dirty hand. "Do you hate me?" 

Her words nearly broke his heart. Victor kissed the child's soiled hand. "Poppet, I'd give my life for you."

She gave him a shaky smile.

Victor sniffed their smoky clothing. "Please, go clean up. We'll talk later."

For once, they didn't argue, just obeyed.

Afterward, Victor questioned his actions. He should have helped the Duo clean the mess by hand, even though it'd take time and a grounding by Lovedae. The whole sorry affair could have been a teaching moment. What bothered him most—Jason was right. He'd let the matured power captivate him, relying on it instead of himself. Victor had used more magic in the last several weeks than in his entire life, enticing his high-and-mighty thoughts.

Now he understood why little Vic warned him not to lose himself.

Victor headed upstairs, determined to make things right with his siblings—and himself.

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