The Gift

     It really had  not been a good day.
     It was her birthday--she should be celebrating somehow
instead of pacing unhappily up and down the terraces of her
roof garden. Celebration seemed too tedious. She had refused
all callers today in order to find perhaps a measure of
peace. Peace was not forthcoming.
     Mona Malone wondered how her friend and enemy Ace
Cooper handled times like this and decided flatly to not
think of him. The Magician managed to, without noticing it,
excite in her the best and worst all in a jumble. There were
two men only in Mona's life and one was her father--
crippled, bitter, greedy Jack Malone who held Ace Cooper
personally responsible for his disfigurement and
dehabilitation... not that it had actually stopped her
father at all, really, just hurt his pride. She loved her
father and did not want to see him hurt by anyone, even Ace.
For that reason, she hated the confident performer.
     "At the same time, I can't deny Father is a crook. Or
that his bodyguards are scum who manage to thankfully botch
almost every assignment on their own Father gives them..."
        Mona was in her early thirties or late twenties,
with long, wavy red hair that fell alluringly past her
shoulders, a proud pair of emerald green eyes, and a singing
voice rich as maple syrup. While she had her own house and
career, the lovely woman was still Jack Malone's daughter--
treated with every common courtesy, often a little extra--
and guarded jealously by her father.
     The second man in her life was the Magician himself.
     "Good qualities: courteous, sense of humor, a
percievable conscience, good taste and manners, protective,
loyal, honest, thinks he loves me...  Bad qualities: can't
see past his own naive ideas, too secretive by half, his use
of magic scares me...  and  he thinks he loves me."
     And she loved him back. Deeply. But in loving Ace, her
father's sworn foe, she hurt her father...  yet, how could
she stop loving the combination of sarcastic wit and genuine
gallantry, or bear to see the hurt in those blue eyes
whenever they met even as friends. The hurt was not so much
for himself, she knew, as for her. Whatever the final choice
was, she would estrange at least one person from her forever
and whether that person was Ace Cooper, her father, or
herself, not even Mona Malone knew.
     She sighed and stopped pacing through  the roof garden,
sitting down at last on a well-worn wooden bench to watch
the city below. It was almost twilight, the most restful
time of day for her. But tonight as she watched the moving
lights below her, calm did not come.
     The day's events swirled back into sharp focus as she
sat there, and none of them were pleasant...




               *                   *              *

     The Library Annex was a beautiful place, guarded at the
front by facing statues of a gryphon and a winged horse.
Wide broad steps were placed between gleaming steel hand
rails and there was an access ramp for those unable to walk
or too tired to use the stairs. Mona prefered the steps.
     Upon entering, she saw a highly unusual sight--a silver
grey long-winged hawk sat perched on the ledge of the open
window, watching intently as a young man flipped through a
volume of text.
     "Well, I hope this is the version you're searching
for... There are four other similar texts in this volume
alone!"
     The dark hair, the black jacket stitched with metallic
blue, and the voice
told Mona who it was that spoke: Michael Raven, son of the
owner of the DNA Casino. The youth turned from the book,
noticing the singer.
     "Care to join us, Miss Mona? Marshall, may I introduce
you to Miss Mona Malone. Mona, this is Marshall."
     The hawk inclined its head courteously; for a
disconcerting second, the image of a young woman with grey-
blue eyes, almost shoulder-length brown hair, long limbs,
and a wry smile was superimposed over that of the hawk.
Michael saw the shock and uncertainty in the green eyes and
tried to soothe it.
     "Marshall's in another true- form today. Nothing can
keep her away from a good book, even being a falcon."
     "So I see. If you will excuse me?"
     With that, Mona turned and walked toward the stacks.
     :Did I frighten her?:
     The mental voice that entered the singer's mind was
filled with unhappiness.
     "No. Unsettle might be a better term. Miss Mona is
afraid of two things only: losing her father or losing Ace
Cooper. Was that the version you wanted?"
     : Yes, thank you. Now I have it in my head, I can copy
it for Sean.:
     "He'll be pleased. Let me put this book up if you're
finished, Marshall."
     Mona slid further into the stacks, promising herself
that she would apologize to the strange shifter as soon as
she had collected more to read. After ten minutes of
fruitless searching, Mona came back to Michael's table and
found Marshall gone.
     "Where is your hawk friend?"
     "She's out hunting, Miss Mona. Don't feel like you sent
her away. In actual fact, this has been perhaps the most
courteous reception she's had in about six weeks from
Electrocity's older population. My father extends his best
wishes for a happy birthday."
     "Please thank him for me."
     "I certainly will. See you around."




     The singer nodded and headed outside to stand uncertain
in the sun. Michael had told her not to feel bad about
Marshall's exit, but Mona felt guilty. She had been less
than kind, leaving without trying to be more than coldly
polite--the shifter had only tried to be friendly-- and
Michael had been lying through his teeth when he'd said that
Mona was not to worry.
     Marshall had seen the fear-- how could she have missed
it?--and had promptly left in order to make Mona feel
better. Unfortunately, thought the woman, it's only made me
feel worse...
     Above her on a thermal Marshall watched the singer's
face fill with regret and felt a wash of sympathy for the
lady. It could not be easy being Miss Mona Malone: loved by
her family's enemy, loving her father, and having a
successful career. Marshall could at least fly away if the
world got too much to handle. What did Miss Malone do to
find peace? Could she?
     Marshall's mind was made up suddenly. Tilting her
wings, she headed toward the center of the city and home,
the House Sanctuary. Mona watched the falcon wheel away and
felt angry tears spring to her eyes.
     "She could have been a friend..."
      Back home thirty minutes later, Mona sat unmoving at
her coffee table when her doorbell rang. The vid screen
showed the faces of her father's two bodyguards/minions,
Spade and Diamond. carrying packages.
     "You can leave them outside the door,"  she told them
flatly.
     "Yes, Miss Mona."
     Both men were afraid of her and her tone brooked no
argument; they dropped the packages and headed away,
muttering between themselves. A few minutes later, she saw a
red-headed blur on roller blades screech to a halt and
neatly arrange the packages on her doorstep before adding
two more to the pile. The figure waved to the window and
swooped around the corner, grinning as he looked back.
     "Oh that's right! Ace told me he wouldn't be able to
celebrate with me
today-- he has three performances this afternoon, two with
Zina. At least he and Cosmo remembered; I almost thought
they'd forgotten."

          *                   *                   *

     Mona felt irritated with herself as she recalled that
thought. Ace had never once forgotten her birthday, even
when he was away receiving instruction in the  stage
magician's craft--where he had gained the other talent was
beyond her--or when he was in the hospital after challenging
Jack Malone's cold ruthlessness and his "business
practice"and realizing what these were doing to innocent
lives...
     "He was only age sixteen,"  Mona remembered. "He found
out Father was
a person without principle whose two loves were power and me
and there are times when I wonder if Ace wasn't right to
charge that all Father loves is power, in any form in any
way he can get it..."
     No! Her father loved her!
     Ace had challenged and had gotten horribly beaten for
his presumption; only Mona, Black Jack, Vega and Ace himself
knew how badly... the scars were still there, thin white
lines marring shoulder and lower back.
     "Father expected him to die."
     The words had hardly left her mouth when she felt the
rioting clamor in her mind and heart explode again. Before
the war could commence inside, there was a soft clicking of
claws on cool concrete. Mona glanced down to regard the
greenest cat eyes she had ever seen. The creature was amber
in color, with black ears and black tip tail; in its jaws,
it carried a small envelope, which it dropped at her feet
before sauntering away through the garden plants.
     Mona bent and picked the envelope off the concrete and
stared at it. On the front, it merely read A Birthday Wish
in silver pen, then her address underneath. It was no
handwriting she recognized and its delivery had been
extraordinary.
     Twilight deepened around her as she stared at the words
on the envelope and wondered who could have sent it. Turning
it over, she saw that it had been sealed with a bit of blue
wax that had a small displayed bird as its design. With
trembling fingers, the lady broke the paper-thin seal and
pulled forth two sheets of paper.
     The first was written on notebook paper in black pen.

Dear Miss Mona,
     I am sorry I frightened you this morning. I should have
thought before I acted. Raven told me you were just
unsettled--he was being tactful. I seem to have unsettled
your peace of mind, and so as apology and birthday wish, I
offer you the prayer on the attatched page. It is an old
Gaelic prayer with as many variants as combinations of
notes. I have chosen the one that has eased my own spirit
many times.
     Until we meet again, bright your days.
               MARSHALL

     The second sheet was of parchment, strong and
beautiful. On it, silver writing glittered under the now
risen moon. The first line caught Mona's eye and held it:
Moon and stars pour their healing light upon you.
     Mona sighed and stopped wrestling with herself over
whom she loved better, whom she would hurt. The one she hurt
most was herself. Time would answer the question of which
man she would choose--the question her father thought was
already answered and the Magician  had never yet asked.
     With that settled for the moment and the war stilled,
the singer read the prayer Marshall had copied.




     Deep peace of the running wave to you...
     Her mind recalled the awesome power of the sea, its
depth, strength and wonder. A stray seagull cried in the
night, winging across the city toward the open water. The
rhythm of the waves was in her blood and a small measure of
strength came from that knowledge.
     Deep peace of the rushing air to you...
     Soft breeze picked up her hair and blew it into her
face, tickling her nose. Her breathing slowed, and the day's
events, while disappointing, no longer cut her to the quick.
They were learning experiences, no more; she would do better
tomorrow.
     Deep peace of the quiet earth to you...
     The sounds of the garden came to her ears next, the
rustling, the creaking of branch and settling of root. The
plants and the animals that lived there in or near her
rooftop garden--she could sense the strength that could bend
and live in a cycle around her. She was a part of that cycle
too, and that gave her another measure of comfort.
     Deep peace of the shining stars to you...
     Green eyes looked up into the dark blue and picked out
constellations, knowing they were long dead points of
brilliant time, but the brightness turned and danced,
danced, and the planet danced too. The dance did not remove
the need for action tomorrow, it invited it. Mona accepted
the challenge and felt the knot in her stomach ease.
     Deep peace of the gentle night to you...
     She looked down at the lights below and heard from a
distance the soft shush of cars on the road, the laughter of
children playing night games, the city at rest. There was
enough time to do everything she needed to do. The trouble
of tomorrow could wait. The tension  inside dissapated.
     Moon and stars pour thir healing light upon you...
     Mona read on.
     Deep peace of Christ, the Light of the World, to you.
Deep
peace of Christ.
     The words blurred before her.
     Peace was a gift, a gift given freely...  It had been
so long since she had given herself any... and now she had
found  it again, in a shifter's gift of an old prayer long
forgotten by the world except in an old tome. Mona slowly
folded prayer and note and placed them back in the envelope,
rose and went inside to see if she could find a reply...
after all, it seemed only right to do so.





     "There! Finished!"
     Mona smiled, pleased with herself. It had taken a long
time, but it was well done. Ace and Angel had been pleased
to help her, though prayer research was not a usual request.
Of course, Mona had explained her reason to Ace whose only
response had been a smile and pen, paper and uninterrupted
time to work after the five of them--Ace, Cosmo, Zina,
Derek, and herself had properly celebrated her birthday. She
had spent the night in the guest bedroom, thankful that for
once, she wouldn't have to worry someone would call at four
in the morning.
     "Cool, Mona. What now?" Cosmo asked, leaning over the
back of her chair to study the words.
     "I deliver it, of course."
     With quick efficiency, the work was placed in an
envelope with the note written above and below the copy, and
then Mona left the Express, heading toward the Library
Annex. Once there, she opened the envelope and left the
paper on the table, facing the window.
     Marshall winged into her favorite window at mid-morning
and stopped shuffling her feet as her gaze saw the note,
which read:

Dear Marshall,
     Thank you for your understanding. In return for your
prayer, I have found this one that reminds me of your
compassion. Please accept it with my deepest apologies and
thanks for yesterday.
               Mona
     Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace;
     where there is hatred, let me sow love;
     where there is injury, pardon;
     where there is doubt, faith;
     where there is despair, hope;
     where there is darkness, light;
     and where there is sadness, joy.
     O Divine Master,
     grant that I may not so much seek
     to be consoled as to console;
     to be understood, as to understand;
     to be loved, as to love;
     for it is in giving that we receive,
     it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
     and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
               --Prayer ascribed to St. Francis

     Marshall nodded. This was indeed her prayer, not for
Mona alone, but for herself. And if she meant to honor those
famous words, she had a magician to speak with. Calling out
her triumph, the hawk launched up and headed west.