Warren and Colin were meditating at the mansion, while Justine, Kelly and Carissa worked on clearing their chakras. It was quiet since Ywoth wasn’t taking anyone’s energy at that point.
Trevor was aimlessly wandering along Bishopsgate, outside Liverpool Street Station, observing the thousands of people going about their business that afternoon.
He started thinking about Kelly and Mischia, how they’d stumbled upon all this. How helpful Kelly had become, and what a shame it was about Mischia, how she had been kidnapped and corrupted.
Or had she?
Maybe she wasn’t functioning of her own will, and Ywoth was using her as a tool, or something.
His thoughts of Mischia brought visions of the Millennium Bridge. He sent a blue wave of energy out of his throat and into space.
‘I know where Mischia is, and she’s alone,’ he communicated.
When he arrived back at the mansion, Colin was the first to question him.
‘Where is she?’
‘Around the Tate Modern.’
‘All right then. You and Kelly go and tail her, Kelly, suss her out and see if you can talk some sense into her, then bring her back here,’ said Justine.
‘Why didn’t we think of this before?’ asked Kelly, excitedly.
‘We did, but couldn’t do anything about it, as long as she was with Ywoth, we couldn’t sense her,’ said Colin.
‘So she’s alone now?’
‘Yes.’
Kelly was excited at the prospect of seeing her friend again; she hadn’t seen her in such a long time and had been missing her, a lot. Maybe when they saw each other again, Mischia would be woken from her brainwashing and come back to the good side.
Esjekshb had got on the Central Line at St Paul’s and was heading towards Liverpool Street. But a vision of Mischia popped into her head, and she got off the train at Bank, and ran towards the westbound platform, pushing people out of the way.
‘Hey, stop running,’ said a tourist.
She didn’t look back.
The train’s doors had just closed, and it was about to pull away when Esjekshb arrived on the platform, but that didn’t stop her. A line of energy escaped her fingertips and slid between the doors, she parted her hands and opened it, running alongside the train.
Passengers inside the carriage watched, fascinated, as the doors opened, and she stepped in, seconds before they slammed shut, and the train entered the tunnel.
Esjekshb sat on the floor; oblivious to the odd looks she was getting, and sent a wave of blue energy into space.
‘Ywoth, Tgthiem, go back to the Tate. Mischia’s in trouble!’
And within minutes she was back in St Paul’s.