“I can’t accept that.”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly what?”
She looked up from her work, her eyes flashing with intensity. “That’s exactly what Drake counts on.”
“Huh?”
She sighed, leaned on the table with both hands and gathered her brows into a single dark line before speaking again. “Drake knows that you won’t give up, that you won’t surrender willingly to him. He counts on you looking for a way to actually kill him. But you see, as long as you are merely looking for a way to kill him, to do what no one else has suceeded in doing over a life that has now lasted over 5,000 years, you will ignore other options.”
“What the Hell other options can there possibly be?”
With that question, a small smile escaped from her lips for the briefest of moments. “Trust me on that one Rusty, there are options,...possibilities.”
“OK, you’ve got my attention now.”
“Good.” She then went back to work and continued to speak. “Drake will be here shortly, so we must have everything ready.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“When Drake comes, I will give him these urns....”
“Wait a damn minute! That doesn’t sound like a very reasonable plan...”
Her withering look stopped me in mid complaint. “When Drake comes, I will give him these urns, if he agrees to to release those held within them right here.”
“Why would he agree to do that?”
“He may not. But if he doesn’t, we will not give him the urns.”
“So how are we going to stop him if he decides not to bargain with us?”
“There is no ‘we’ in this, Rusty. You will have to restrain yourself from interfering with my dealings with Drake.”
“Dammit Cerrydwen, I don’t think you realize who your are fucking with here, he’ll tear you apart without a second damn thought!”
“I know full well who I will be facing. I have no illusions as to who Drake is and what he is capable of. He, however, has very little idea of who I am, and what I am capable of.”
I shook my head, knowing full well that things were going south very quickly. “I don’t think that Drake is going to be affected very much by your powers, Cerrydwen. He’s done a lot of bad shit in his long existence, but I am pretty sure that he is far too strong to be paralyzed like I’ve seen you do to lesser foes. Drake is a lot stronger than Papa Locks ever thought about being.”
“Rusty, I certainly hope he sees things the way you do, it will make this task all the easier to accomplish. Now, finish cleaning this surface. I will return shortly.”
With that, she set aside her pine branch, turned her back to me, and calmly walked back into the woods behind her. I shook my head again as I set about finishing the task she had set me to, wondering all the while how she could be so damn foolish. I glanced at the duffle bag containing the two urns and debated the merits of walking off this damn island....
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Wax On, Wax Off...Part 1
Once that moment passed, I strode up to Cerrydwen and took a more challenging stance. I needed some answers. “The Frau said something about Drake coming too, what’s up with that? I thought we were going to open the urns here and let these spirits loose.”
Cerrydwen had bent back down to resume her chosen work of using a pine covered branch to sweep dust, dirt and other debris from that massive stone table. She continued for several more moments, seemingly oblivious to me and the challenge I had thrown her way.
Calmly, she finished the area she had been working on and turned to face me. “The urns will be opened tonight, one way or another.”
“Look, I’m losing my patience here. Is Drake coming here tonight?”
“How can you lose something you’ve never had?”
“Excuse me?” My anger was beginning to bubble up inside. Cerrydwen had always been a mystery to me, but she was being particularly obtuse at a time when I could almost feel the approaching doom.
“I’ve never seen you exhibit any patience. For a man who no longer has to deal with the distractions of the flesh, that is an interesting character flaw.”
Almost to a snapping point, I felt an almost uncontrollable urge to lash out at this strange woman. Instead I inched closer, looming over her, eyes burning in anger. “If Drake is coming here, and you knew he was coming why did we give up our weapons?”
Cerrydwen didn’t flinch. She stood as strong as the stone table beside her, as impassive to my rage as the table was to the storms that lashed it every spring. “In this place, even the most powerful of blades is more dangerous to the wielder than it is to the intended target. You are safer here without them.”
I couldn’t believe how obtuse she was being! “Not with Drake coming here, dammit! Didn’t you hear the stories I told about that fucking maniac? He’s studied martial arts for five thousand fucking years! He can kill you and dismantle my ass without even thinking twice about it! We don’t stand a fucking chance against this man without Diego and my ability to call upon the Shadow!”
“Exactly.”
“What the Hell are you smoking? What do you mean by ‘exactly’? Exactly, what?!?”
She shook her head in disgust. “It is precisely because he thinks he can defeat us so easily without weapons that we will be safe here.” She turned away from me and resumed cleaning the stone tabletop. “Grab another branch and help me. I will employ a less ancient form of martial arts instruction with you.”
I was dumbfounded (I know, I know, big damn surprise there!) yet again. But I did manage to put the duffle bag down and grab another branch from the ground that had been conveniently placed nearby.
I picked it up and moved to the other side of the 10’ long, 5’ wide, 4’ high structure and began sweeping it off on that side. As I worked, slowly at first, she began to speak again.
“Rusty, I listened to that story of yours about Drake. As you said earlier, he has had five thousand years to hone his skills as a warrior. He is stronger, faster and smarter than you or any other foe he has ever faced in battle. You have to come to grips with the fact that you are not going to defeat him in open battle.”
Cerrydwen had bent back down to resume her chosen work of using a pine covered branch to sweep dust, dirt and other debris from that massive stone table. She continued for several more moments, seemingly oblivious to me and the challenge I had thrown her way.
Calmly, she finished the area she had been working on and turned to face me. “The urns will be opened tonight, one way or another.”
“Look, I’m losing my patience here. Is Drake coming here tonight?”
“How can you lose something you’ve never had?”
“Excuse me?” My anger was beginning to bubble up inside. Cerrydwen had always been a mystery to me, but she was being particularly obtuse at a time when I could almost feel the approaching doom.
“I’ve never seen you exhibit any patience. For a man who no longer has to deal with the distractions of the flesh, that is an interesting character flaw.”
Almost to a snapping point, I felt an almost uncontrollable urge to lash out at this strange woman. Instead I inched closer, looming over her, eyes burning in anger. “If Drake is coming here, and you knew he was coming why did we give up our weapons?”
Cerrydwen didn’t flinch. She stood as strong as the stone table beside her, as impassive to my rage as the table was to the storms that lashed it every spring. “In this place, even the most powerful of blades is more dangerous to the wielder than it is to the intended target. You are safer here without them.”
I couldn’t believe how obtuse she was being! “Not with Drake coming here, dammit! Didn’t you hear the stories I told about that fucking maniac? He’s studied martial arts for five thousand fucking years! He can kill you and dismantle my ass without even thinking twice about it! We don’t stand a fucking chance against this man without Diego and my ability to call upon the Shadow!”
“Exactly.”
“What the Hell are you smoking? What do you mean by ‘exactly’? Exactly, what?!?”
She shook her head in disgust. “It is precisely because he thinks he can defeat us so easily without weapons that we will be safe here.” She turned away from me and resumed cleaning the stone tabletop. “Grab another branch and help me. I will employ a less ancient form of martial arts instruction with you.”
I was dumbfounded (I know, I know, big damn surprise there!) yet again. But I did manage to put the duffle bag down and grab another branch from the ground that had been conveniently placed nearby.
I picked it up and moved to the other side of the 10’ long, 5’ wide, 4’ high structure and began sweeping it off on that side. As I worked, slowly at first, she began to speak again.
“Rusty, I listened to that story of yours about Drake. As you said earlier, he has had five thousand years to hone his skills as a warrior. He is stronger, faster and smarter than you or any other foe he has ever faced in battle. You have to come to grips with the fact that you are not going to defeat him in open battle.”
Sunday, April 23, 2006
"What the Hell..."--Part 2
I stopped dead in my tracks, a chill touching what was left of my naked soul. I turned to look down at the older woman. “Frau, how do you know that Drake is coming here? How would he know that we are even here?”
She chuckled again in the kind-hearted way that older people do when they dealing with childish questions. “Let’s call it a hunch. We figured that Drake has gained more than just your connection to the Shadow with the dratted blade of his. But, there is more to this than that, Rusty, you need to ask these questions of Cerrydwen. She’ll let you know more details of what we are actually doing here.”
With that, she started hiking up the small, shrub-covered hillside along the worn, sandy path.
I stood there for a second, glancing back to see if that damn boat was still visible, only to be disappointed by its absence. In frustration and confusion, I shrugged my shoulders and followed her up the path.
The Frau crested the hill faster than I would have thought possible for a woman of her age and obvious ailments. I was at least a minute behind her when I, too, crested the ridge. Expecting to see her waiting for me, I was surprised yet again to only see a small pile of her rumpled clothes and her shoes laying in a heap behind a nearby tree. Her footprints appeared to head off into the woods on the right side of the path, while Cerrydwen’s tracks continued down the narrow trail that led to a clearing that was just barely visible about 50 yards away.
“Frau?”
At first, my call was met with silence. Then I heard shuffling, huffing sounds of something very large moving through the woods in the general direction that her tracks had led.
I moved in that direction, wanting to make sure that she was OK. I came around a large, fallen tree trunk and found myself face-to-face with a large black bear with patches of greying fur on its massive shoulders. It looked at me with an amused look.
“Oh shit!”
My first instinct was to reach for the blade that was no longer sheathed on my shoulder. My second instinct was to try to snap my batons into place. My third instinct was to reach for the Shadow and make an easy escape. Realizing that I was without any other recourse, I took off running towards the clearing that Cerrydwen had gone to, yelling out a warning to my companions, “Bear! Frau, Cerrydwen, there’s a damn bear loose on this damn island!”
Behind me, I heard the crashing of bushes, the snapping of twigs that told me that the bear was following me. It’s wuffling breath and grunts of exertion seemed to be closing in on me from behind as I broke into the clearing.
Cerrydwen was in the center of the clearing, about twenty yards away, clearing leaves and brush away from a massive stone table that dominated the space. She looked up as I came crashing into the open space, duffle bag held out in front of me. I spun to face the oncoming bear, only to be bowled over by it as it rushed past me and towards Cerrydwen.
Trying to be careful with the urns, I rolled to the side and scrambled to my knees, shouting out a warning, only to see Cerrydwen standing calmly, hand outstretched as the bear slowed to an ambling, almost familiar gait, and sidled up to her for a scratch behind the ears.
Cerrydwen was smiling (notable, as always for the rarity of that event) and getting her face licked by the beast as I got up, stunned yet again.
“What the Hell is going on around this place? Where is the Frau?”
Hearing my voice, the bear stopped its licking of Cerrydwen’s face and turned to face me. It winked one eye at me before ambling off into the woods again.
“Is that...who...I..think...it...is?” I managed to stammer out to the bemused Cerrydwen.
“Yes. She gets so few opportunities to take that form. She really enjoys the freedom of it when she does take it. It is always hard to get her to put her clothes back on.”
I shook my head in amazement.
She chuckled again in the kind-hearted way that older people do when they dealing with childish questions. “Let’s call it a hunch. We figured that Drake has gained more than just your connection to the Shadow with the dratted blade of his. But, there is more to this than that, Rusty, you need to ask these questions of Cerrydwen. She’ll let you know more details of what we are actually doing here.”
With that, she started hiking up the small, shrub-covered hillside along the worn, sandy path.
I stood there for a second, glancing back to see if that damn boat was still visible, only to be disappointed by its absence. In frustration and confusion, I shrugged my shoulders and followed her up the path.
The Frau crested the hill faster than I would have thought possible for a woman of her age and obvious ailments. I was at least a minute behind her when I, too, crested the ridge. Expecting to see her waiting for me, I was surprised yet again to only see a small pile of her rumpled clothes and her shoes laying in a heap behind a nearby tree. Her footprints appeared to head off into the woods on the right side of the path, while Cerrydwen’s tracks continued down the narrow trail that led to a clearing that was just barely visible about 50 yards away.
“Frau?”
At first, my call was met with silence. Then I heard shuffling, huffing sounds of something very large moving through the woods in the general direction that her tracks had led.
I moved in that direction, wanting to make sure that she was OK. I came around a large, fallen tree trunk and found myself face-to-face with a large black bear with patches of greying fur on its massive shoulders. It looked at me with an amused look.
“Oh shit!”
My first instinct was to reach for the blade that was no longer sheathed on my shoulder. My second instinct was to try to snap my batons into place. My third instinct was to reach for the Shadow and make an easy escape. Realizing that I was without any other recourse, I took off running towards the clearing that Cerrydwen had gone to, yelling out a warning to my companions, “Bear! Frau, Cerrydwen, there’s a damn bear loose on this damn island!”
Behind me, I heard the crashing of bushes, the snapping of twigs that told me that the bear was following me. It’s wuffling breath and grunts of exertion seemed to be closing in on me from behind as I broke into the clearing.
Cerrydwen was in the center of the clearing, about twenty yards away, clearing leaves and brush away from a massive stone table that dominated the space. She looked up as I came crashing into the open space, duffle bag held out in front of me. I spun to face the oncoming bear, only to be bowled over by it as it rushed past me and towards Cerrydwen.
Trying to be careful with the urns, I rolled to the side and scrambled to my knees, shouting out a warning, only to see Cerrydwen standing calmly, hand outstretched as the bear slowed to an ambling, almost familiar gait, and sidled up to her for a scratch behind the ears.
Cerrydwen was smiling (notable, as always for the rarity of that event) and getting her face licked by the beast as I got up, stunned yet again.
“What the Hell is going on around this place? Where is the Frau?”
Hearing my voice, the bear stopped its licking of Cerrydwen’s face and turned to face me. It winked one eye at me before ambling off into the woods again.
“Is that...who...I..think...it...is?” I managed to stammer out to the bemused Cerrydwen.
“Yes. She gets so few opportunities to take that form. She really enjoys the freedom of it when she does take it. It is always hard to get her to put her clothes back on.”
I shook my head in amazement.
"What the Hell..."--Part 1
We travelled in silence for several more minutes before a break in the fog revealed a small, sandy beach in the distance. The darting little lights under the water made one more pass under the boat and towards the beach, where they seemed to gather into a single larger light just under the surface of the water.
As the small boat began to scrape the sandy bottom, I stowed the oars and made to get up and get out into the shallow water in order to secure the craft for the ladies to disembark. Before I could stand up however, I noticed that the larger light began to grow and transform into a humanoid figure of indeterminate sex. The figure reached out to touch the boat with one hand, steadying the craft. It held out the other hand expectantly towards the three of us.
Cerrydwen reached down into her right boot and pulled out a wicked looking, sheathed steel knife that was engraved with runes of some sort. Without a word she handed the knife to the figure. Once the knife was in its hand, it disappeared and the hand moved for her to disembark, which she did, taking a small hop and landing in about two inch deep water. She turned to face me.
“Rusty, you must hand over your weapons before disembarking.”
“Hand over my weapons? Why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, you won’t be allowed to tocuh the soil of this place. It is a sacred place, inhabited by an ancient spirit that abhores violence and will not tolerate weapons of any sort being brought onto the island.”
“Where did your knife just go? I can’t afford to lose Diego, he’s the only weapon I know of that will hurt Drake.”
Cerrydwen smiled. “You will not need such weapons here. They will be returned to you when you get ready to leave. Trust me on this one. I’ve been here many times before.”
“OK, but you tell this thing, I will get my weapons back, or else.” I undid the straps that held Diegoe’s sheath to my shoulder and handed the still sheathed Witchbane blade to the creature. As soon as he landed in its hand, Diego disappeared. The creature still held its hand out expectantly towards me however, and did not wave me forward like it had to Cerrydwen.
“What now?” I asked, losing patience.
The Frau spoke from behind me. “Rusty, my dear, your batons count as weapons too, as does my cane. Hand them over.”
Grumbling about walking into a damn trap without any weapons, I triggered the snapping mechanism that sent each collapsible baton into my hands and handed them over to the being of light. They promptly disappeared as the creature waved me on. Mor ethan a little grudgingly, I got up, grabbed the duffle bag containing the urns, and leaped out of the boat, landing next to Cerrydwen. I turned to wait for the Frau.
The Frau was now standing herself. She shifted forward in the now steady boat and handed her cane to the creature. The creature waved her forward, so she stepped carefully over the side and into the shin deep water. I moved forward to catch her from falling, but she waved me away as she caught herself and made her way unsteadily to shore.
Once she was past the creature of light, it collapsed on itself back down into the bigger ball of pure light and then dissolved back into the dozen or so will-o-wisps that had guided us here. They then darted off under the water in several difference directions.
The boat, not anchored by a tie or anything, began to drift away.
Cursing, I started wading after it, only to hear Cerrydwen shout a command. “No, Rusty. Let it go.”
I turned to her, exasperated. “How will we get back to the car?”
“Don’t worry, the boat will be here when we need it. Right now it is needed for someone else.”
“Someone else? Who else knows where the Hell we are, and why would they want to come to this place?”
Cerrydwen’s lips just tightened as she chose not to answer any of my questions. She turned and began walking up onto the beach itself, joining the Frau.
Grumbling again, I followed her. As soon as I touched dry land, I felt an immediate change. A shiver of Magickal energy swept through me, as it left, I felt somehow naked, like a huge void was left in my soul. I stumbled as the wave of feelings left me, falling to one knee. “What the Hell...?”
Both women stopped and turned when they heard me. Cerrydwen, less than sympathic, resumed walking after that glance. The Frau on the otherhand came back to me with that rolling gait of hers and offered a hand to me as she said, “Don’t worry Rusty, the magick of this place is strong. What your are feeling right now is losing your connection to the Shadow. You will not have access to any of your powers that are based on the Shadow or any other connection to another place. It is part of the protection of this place, you cannot get her except by way in which have come.”
She helped me to get up. Rising again, I replied, “I do not like this place at all. I haven’t felt this vulnerable since I was strapped to that rock in the Merlin’s cave.”
She chuckled at that, patted my arm. “It’s alright, if you think you’re uncomfortable, wait until Drake gets here.”
(To be continued...)
As the small boat began to scrape the sandy bottom, I stowed the oars and made to get up and get out into the shallow water in order to secure the craft for the ladies to disembark. Before I could stand up however, I noticed that the larger light began to grow and transform into a humanoid figure of indeterminate sex. The figure reached out to touch the boat with one hand, steadying the craft. It held out the other hand expectantly towards the three of us.
Cerrydwen reached down into her right boot and pulled out a wicked looking, sheathed steel knife that was engraved with runes of some sort. Without a word she handed the knife to the figure. Once the knife was in its hand, it disappeared and the hand moved for her to disembark, which she did, taking a small hop and landing in about two inch deep water. She turned to face me.
“Rusty, you must hand over your weapons before disembarking.”
“Hand over my weapons? Why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, you won’t be allowed to tocuh the soil of this place. It is a sacred place, inhabited by an ancient spirit that abhores violence and will not tolerate weapons of any sort being brought onto the island.”
“Where did your knife just go? I can’t afford to lose Diego, he’s the only weapon I know of that will hurt Drake.”
Cerrydwen smiled. “You will not need such weapons here. They will be returned to you when you get ready to leave. Trust me on this one. I’ve been here many times before.”
“OK, but you tell this thing, I will get my weapons back, or else.” I undid the straps that held Diegoe’s sheath to my shoulder and handed the still sheathed Witchbane blade to the creature. As soon as he landed in its hand, Diego disappeared. The creature still held its hand out expectantly towards me however, and did not wave me forward like it had to Cerrydwen.
“What now?” I asked, losing patience.
The Frau spoke from behind me. “Rusty, my dear, your batons count as weapons too, as does my cane. Hand them over.”
Grumbling about walking into a damn trap without any weapons, I triggered the snapping mechanism that sent each collapsible baton into my hands and handed them over to the being of light. They promptly disappeared as the creature waved me on. Mor ethan a little grudgingly, I got up, grabbed the duffle bag containing the urns, and leaped out of the boat, landing next to Cerrydwen. I turned to wait for the Frau.
The Frau was now standing herself. She shifted forward in the now steady boat and handed her cane to the creature. The creature waved her forward, so she stepped carefully over the side and into the shin deep water. I moved forward to catch her from falling, but she waved me away as she caught herself and made her way unsteadily to shore.
Once she was past the creature of light, it collapsed on itself back down into the bigger ball of pure light and then dissolved back into the dozen or so will-o-wisps that had guided us here. They then darted off under the water in several difference directions.
The boat, not anchored by a tie or anything, began to drift away.
Cursing, I started wading after it, only to hear Cerrydwen shout a command. “No, Rusty. Let it go.”
I turned to her, exasperated. “How will we get back to the car?”
“Don’t worry, the boat will be here when we need it. Right now it is needed for someone else.”
“Someone else? Who else knows where the Hell we are, and why would they want to come to this place?”
Cerrydwen’s lips just tightened as she chose not to answer any of my questions. She turned and began walking up onto the beach itself, joining the Frau.
Grumbling again, I followed her. As soon as I touched dry land, I felt an immediate change. A shiver of Magickal energy swept through me, as it left, I felt somehow naked, like a huge void was left in my soul. I stumbled as the wave of feelings left me, falling to one knee. “What the Hell...?”
Both women stopped and turned when they heard me. Cerrydwen, less than sympathic, resumed walking after that glance. The Frau on the otherhand came back to me with that rolling gait of hers and offered a hand to me as she said, “Don’t worry Rusty, the magick of this place is strong. What your are feeling right now is losing your connection to the Shadow. You will not have access to any of your powers that are based on the Shadow or any other connection to another place. It is part of the protection of this place, you cannot get her except by way in which have come.”
She helped me to get up. Rising again, I replied, “I do not like this place at all. I haven’t felt this vulnerable since I was strapped to that rock in the Merlin’s cave.”
She chuckled at that, patted my arm. “It’s alright, if you think you’re uncomfortable, wait until Drake gets here.”
(To be continued...)
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Lake Woe-Be-Gone
Even after crossing the Mackinac Bridge, we had another couple of hours of hard driving into the deep, wild woods of the Upper Peninsula.
We made our last turn from a paved road onto a small, rut-filled track that snaked into the densest, darkest forest I had ever seen. That track wound its way back for several more miles before the trees gave way to a small clearing that ended at the shore of a lake. There were no buildings, no signs, no other cars to be seen, but there was a small boat tied up to a stake bobbing in the mirror smooth water.
The rain had stopped less than 15 minutes prior to our arrival, but the winds were still whipping through the trees. The rolling rumbles of distant thunder and the small flashes of occasional lightning in the clouds above let us know that the storm was still near. Despite the blowing winds, the water remained calm and undisturbed.
With a snort and a start the Frau woke up as the car stopped. She fumbled for her glasses, stuck them on her face and sighed, “Ah yes. So we’re here already.”
Cerrydwen exited the car without a word, stalked up to the edge of the lake, kneeling at the water’s edge. She seemed to be saying something as she did so, but the words went unheard by either the Frau or myself.
I popped open the trunk, grabbed the duffle bag, and moved around to open the other front door for the Frau. I nodded in Cerrydwen’s direction, asking the Frau, “What’s she doing?”
The Frau chuckled, stuck one stiff leg out and began the process of standing up before responding. “She’s asking permission to cross the lake.”
“Asking permission? Of what, the lake itself?”
“Oh, yes. It is the foolish soul who intrudes here without permission.” She stood all of the way up, stretching her stiff joints, each knee popping as she put weight on it. Stepping away from the car, the Frau looked back into the looming forest, clucking her tongue before bringing her free hand up to her mouth , leaning back and howling.
I stood there stunned for a moment, never expecting this little old lady to be howling like a wolf in the darkness, only to be even more stunned at the responsive cries of what sounded like an entire pack of wolves, no more than a mile or so away.
The Frau turned to see me staring at her. She toddled over to me using her cane for support. When she reached me, she cupped her free hand under my chin and closed my mouth gently. “It’s alright, Rusty, my dear. I just thought it would be a good idea to have some friends nearby, in case things got dicey.”
“You people never cease to amaze me.”
She cackled as we both started over to where Cerrydwen was now standing, pulling on the rope that led to the flat bottomed boat that had been tied to the pole.
“We have been given permission to cross. We should do so soon.”
“In that thing? It looks a little flimsy to hold all of us. How far do we have to go?”
“It will serve our purposes. Hold the boat steady for us.”
I stepped into the shallow water to grab the boat and slide it closer for first the Frau and then Cerrydwen to step into it. After they were settled, I stepped up out of the shin deep water and into the middle of the boat, where the oars sat, ready for my use.
Another round of yips and howls told me that the Frau’s canine friends had gotten a bit closer. Looking back to the woodline, I thought I saw the shadowy forms of the wolves darting in and out of the trees.
With Cerrydwen sitting in the prow of the small craft and the Frau settled in the stern, I picked up the two oars and began to feel my way into rowing the thing without going in circles. It had been almost a lifetime ago since I had actually rowed a boat.
I was facing forward, so that I might see where we were going. Cerrydwen had her back to me, sitting stiffly. The duffle bag sat between us.
“So which way do we go?”
“Just row. We will be guided.”
I bent my shoulders to the task, taking us further from the now fog shrouded shore. All sounds other than the creak of the oars in their locks, the gentle splashing of the paddles slipping into and out of the water, and the breathing of the Frau and Cerrydwen slipped away. Even the voices of the wolves seemed to fade as the fog closed around us.
I kept rowing, gradually finding a nice rhythm. The fog continued to close in around us, blocking our view of the storm overhead, the woods beyond the shore and even the shore itself. Soon we were floating in an ethereal world of whiteness that was constantly shifting. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I swore I could have seen brief images of faces within the fog, but as soon as I thought I might be able to recognize an image as such, it swirled back into the gentle maelstrom as other images seemed to form elsewhere. Just as I was about to say something, I noticed something even stranger. Eery little lights seemed to be darting around in the water beneath and around the boat. There must’ve been a dozen of the firefly sized things, each darting in towards the boat before slipping underneath it, only to emerge again near the prow, each following the next as they seemed to point out the direction to go before disappearing in the fog.
“Follow them.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
We made our last turn from a paved road onto a small, rut-filled track that snaked into the densest, darkest forest I had ever seen. That track wound its way back for several more miles before the trees gave way to a small clearing that ended at the shore of a lake. There were no buildings, no signs, no other cars to be seen, but there was a small boat tied up to a stake bobbing in the mirror smooth water.
The rain had stopped less than 15 minutes prior to our arrival, but the winds were still whipping through the trees. The rolling rumbles of distant thunder and the small flashes of occasional lightning in the clouds above let us know that the storm was still near. Despite the blowing winds, the water remained calm and undisturbed.
With a snort and a start the Frau woke up as the car stopped. She fumbled for her glasses, stuck them on her face and sighed, “Ah yes. So we’re here already.”
Cerrydwen exited the car without a word, stalked up to the edge of the lake, kneeling at the water’s edge. She seemed to be saying something as she did so, but the words went unheard by either the Frau or myself.
I popped open the trunk, grabbed the duffle bag, and moved around to open the other front door for the Frau. I nodded in Cerrydwen’s direction, asking the Frau, “What’s she doing?”
The Frau chuckled, stuck one stiff leg out and began the process of standing up before responding. “She’s asking permission to cross the lake.”
“Asking permission? Of what, the lake itself?”
“Oh, yes. It is the foolish soul who intrudes here without permission.” She stood all of the way up, stretching her stiff joints, each knee popping as she put weight on it. Stepping away from the car, the Frau looked back into the looming forest, clucking her tongue before bringing her free hand up to her mouth , leaning back and howling.
I stood there stunned for a moment, never expecting this little old lady to be howling like a wolf in the darkness, only to be even more stunned at the responsive cries of what sounded like an entire pack of wolves, no more than a mile or so away.
The Frau turned to see me staring at her. She toddled over to me using her cane for support. When she reached me, she cupped her free hand under my chin and closed my mouth gently. “It’s alright, Rusty, my dear. I just thought it would be a good idea to have some friends nearby, in case things got dicey.”
“You people never cease to amaze me.”
She cackled as we both started over to where Cerrydwen was now standing, pulling on the rope that led to the flat bottomed boat that had been tied to the pole.
“We have been given permission to cross. We should do so soon.”
“In that thing? It looks a little flimsy to hold all of us. How far do we have to go?”
“It will serve our purposes. Hold the boat steady for us.”
I stepped into the shallow water to grab the boat and slide it closer for first the Frau and then Cerrydwen to step into it. After they were settled, I stepped up out of the shin deep water and into the middle of the boat, where the oars sat, ready for my use.
Another round of yips and howls told me that the Frau’s canine friends had gotten a bit closer. Looking back to the woodline, I thought I saw the shadowy forms of the wolves darting in and out of the trees.
With Cerrydwen sitting in the prow of the small craft and the Frau settled in the stern, I picked up the two oars and began to feel my way into rowing the thing without going in circles. It had been almost a lifetime ago since I had actually rowed a boat.
I was facing forward, so that I might see where we were going. Cerrydwen had her back to me, sitting stiffly. The duffle bag sat between us.
“So which way do we go?”
“Just row. We will be guided.”
I bent my shoulders to the task, taking us further from the now fog shrouded shore. All sounds other than the creak of the oars in their locks, the gentle splashing of the paddles slipping into and out of the water, and the breathing of the Frau and Cerrydwen slipped away. Even the voices of the wolves seemed to fade as the fog closed around us.
I kept rowing, gradually finding a nice rhythm. The fog continued to close in around us, blocking our view of the storm overhead, the woods beyond the shore and even the shore itself. Soon we were floating in an ethereal world of whiteness that was constantly shifting. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I swore I could have seen brief images of faces within the fog, but as soon as I thought I might be able to recognize an image as such, it swirled back into the gentle maelstrom as other images seemed to form elsewhere. Just as I was about to say something, I noticed something even stranger. Eery little lights seemed to be darting around in the water beneath and around the boat. There must’ve been a dozen of the firefly sized things, each darting in towards the boat before slipping underneath it, only to emerge again near the prow, each following the next as they seemed to point out the direction to go before disappearing in the fog.
“Follow them.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Heading North...
As the Conclave broke up, Jim’s house was bustling with activity. Everyone seemed to feel the tick tock of an internal clock as all-too-critical time slipped away. There was a growing sense of foreboding that dampened even Alexa’s easy grins and giggles.
Ravyn, Herne and Alexa were the first to be ready to leave. Herne had grabbed an overloaded diaper bag of essential clothes, favorite toys, fresh diapers, Naomi’s jewelry box and powdered formula and slung it over one shoulder. He then picked up Alexa in the other arm.
Ravyn, meanwhile, had already collected another bag containing some books that she had borrowed from Jim for herself and for Alexa’s story times. But she had also collected a rather large envelope stuffed with funds for expenses. Jim had grumbled about how much had been contained in that envelope, while Ravyn had remarked about how light it felt.
Once they were both ready, Ravyn and Herne slipped out into the back yard and disappeared in one of Ravyn’s customary flashes of smoke and fire.
After they had left, I sat down at Jim’s lap top computer and began typing in the address and directions to Daniel’s hidden genetic laboratory, providing instructions and passcodes for the alarms at the various doors. The laboratory was in West Virginia, tucked away in a small, nearly abandoned former coal mining town. Daniel hadn’t trusted anyone else with the codes to get into his lab, so I made all of the notes I could to help Jim figure out where everything was and what computer passwords he would need once he actually got in. It was just the kind of place that Jim could lose himslf in for days on end.
Cerrydwen had made some calls and arranged for a large rental car to be delivered to the house.
The sun was already beginning to set by the time the car was delivered, loaded and ready to roll for the journey to the sacred place that Cerrydwen had picked out in the Upper Peninsula. From the Frau’s complaints, I could tell that the air was still warm and heavy with moisture. The clouds overhead looked ominous. The two urns were back in the duffle back, wrapped in heavy towels and packed away in the trunk of the car.
With a final farewell for Jim from the Frau, a curt nod of acknowledgement from Cerrydwen, and hand shake from me, we were off.
The first rain drops hit the windshield as I backed the car out of the narrow driveway.
The ride north was a quiet one. Cerrydwen rode in the back seat and had indicated without really saying anything that she wished to be left alone. The Frau took off her glasses, pulled her jacket up over her torso like a blanket and was soon asleep.
The steady whoosh-thump-wheesh, whoosh-thump-wheesh of the windshield wipers was almost mesmerizing. The rhythmic noises and motion of the car, the silence of my companions and the several hour duration of the strange journey we had undertaken all conspired to make for period of introspection...
My thoughts were a jumbled mess that only began to sort themselves out as we were crossing the magnificent span of the Mackinac Bridge, a five mile long suspension bridge that connected the Upper and the Lower Peninsulas of Michigan across the Straits of Mackinac-the point where Lakes Michigan and Huron met.
The toll taker at the base of the bridge had warned that the weather was not very good and suggested that we wait until morning, but Cerrydwen’s voice had been firm from the back seat. “No. This cannot wait.”
“Alright then, I would recommend that you keep your speed down, the faster you are going, the harder it will be to control your vehicle up there. You all be careful now. Have a good night.”
We were the only car heading north at the time, the strong but steady rain had now turned into a bonafide autumn thunder storm. The water below us was only visible for brief moments, when great flashes of lightning ripped across the horizon, revealing rolling whitecaps far below. Great gusts of wind alternated between pushing the car to the side and boosting our speed by blowing from behind us. It was almost as if there were competing forces at work, one trying to help us get to our destination quicker, and another thrying to thwart us from making our goal...
Ravyn, Herne and Alexa were the first to be ready to leave. Herne had grabbed an overloaded diaper bag of essential clothes, favorite toys, fresh diapers, Naomi’s jewelry box and powdered formula and slung it over one shoulder. He then picked up Alexa in the other arm.
Ravyn, meanwhile, had already collected another bag containing some books that she had borrowed from Jim for herself and for Alexa’s story times. But she had also collected a rather large envelope stuffed with funds for expenses. Jim had grumbled about how much had been contained in that envelope, while Ravyn had remarked about how light it felt.
Once they were both ready, Ravyn and Herne slipped out into the back yard and disappeared in one of Ravyn’s customary flashes of smoke and fire.
After they had left, I sat down at Jim’s lap top computer and began typing in the address and directions to Daniel’s hidden genetic laboratory, providing instructions and passcodes for the alarms at the various doors. The laboratory was in West Virginia, tucked away in a small, nearly abandoned former coal mining town. Daniel hadn’t trusted anyone else with the codes to get into his lab, so I made all of the notes I could to help Jim figure out where everything was and what computer passwords he would need once he actually got in. It was just the kind of place that Jim could lose himslf in for days on end.
Cerrydwen had made some calls and arranged for a large rental car to be delivered to the house.
The sun was already beginning to set by the time the car was delivered, loaded and ready to roll for the journey to the sacred place that Cerrydwen had picked out in the Upper Peninsula. From the Frau’s complaints, I could tell that the air was still warm and heavy with moisture. The clouds overhead looked ominous. The two urns were back in the duffle back, wrapped in heavy towels and packed away in the trunk of the car.
With a final farewell for Jim from the Frau, a curt nod of acknowledgement from Cerrydwen, and hand shake from me, we were off.
The first rain drops hit the windshield as I backed the car out of the narrow driveway.
The ride north was a quiet one. Cerrydwen rode in the back seat and had indicated without really saying anything that she wished to be left alone. The Frau took off her glasses, pulled her jacket up over her torso like a blanket and was soon asleep.
The steady whoosh-thump-wheesh, whoosh-thump-wheesh of the windshield wipers was almost mesmerizing. The rhythmic noises and motion of the car, the silence of my companions and the several hour duration of the strange journey we had undertaken all conspired to make for period of introspection...
My thoughts were a jumbled mess that only began to sort themselves out as we were crossing the magnificent span of the Mackinac Bridge, a five mile long suspension bridge that connected the Upper and the Lower Peninsulas of Michigan across the Straits of Mackinac-the point where Lakes Michigan and Huron met.
The toll taker at the base of the bridge had warned that the weather was not very good and suggested that we wait until morning, but Cerrydwen’s voice had been firm from the back seat. “No. This cannot wait.”
“Alright then, I would recommend that you keep your speed down, the faster you are going, the harder it will be to control your vehicle up there. You all be careful now. Have a good night.”
We were the only car heading north at the time, the strong but steady rain had now turned into a bonafide autumn thunder storm. The water below us was only visible for brief moments, when great flashes of lightning ripped across the horizon, revealing rolling whitecaps far below. Great gusts of wind alternated between pushing the car to the side and boosting our speed by blowing from behind us. It was almost as if there were competing forces at work, one trying to help us get to our destination quicker, and another thrying to thwart us from making our goal...
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Conclave...Part 9
A moment of silence stretched into a seeming eternity after I had stopped talking.
The Professor took a long, deliberate swig from his ever present two-liter of Diet Pepsi and began to speak. “So, it doesn’t look like Daniel opened up either urn. We can also figure that Drake still wants them back. Now that he has some of your ability to manipulate and travel through Shadow, he will be even harder to locate or predict. Finally, we also have Alexa to consider. We now know that she was the product of some sort of twisted genetic program of Daniel’s and Drake’s devising, so I sincerely doubt that Drake is going to let us raise her in peace in the way that we would choose. What do we do with these urns? How do we protect ourselves from a vengeful Vampire with the powers of a Demigod? And how do we protect Alexa long enough to let her grow up into the young woman she’s quite possibly destined to be? Those are the questions we need to resolve. Does anyone have any answers?”
Cerrydwen pushed herself free from the corner she had been lurking in and stepped forward to the edge of our little circle, a wicked grin on her face. “I say we release the Spirits in the urns.”
An uproar of voices met this suggestion. “What...?” “Why would we do that...?” “Not in my house...!”
Herne’s was the only voice that remained calm and quiet as his statement cut through the cries of everyone else. “I agree with Cerrydwen. Release those Spirits, it’s not right to hold them imprisoned in this way.”
Cerrywen raised a single hand, forehead furrowed like the noise of everyone speaking gave her headache. When everyone quieted down, she began to speak again. “Herne’s right. It’s wrong to leave those Spirits imprisoned. I had been wondering why I had been feeling so ill since they were brought out, but I can tell you that there are two very unhappy entities trapped within them. I can feel their pain. But, Jim, I am not suggesting that they be opened here in your home, or anywhere near where Alexa is.”
Jim piped in. “Damn straight.”
Cerrydwen nodded in acknowledgement and continued on. “Releasing these two Spirits serves a number of purposes. First, Drake won’t be hunting for them if they no longer contain the Spirits of his trapped parents. Second, if what we have heard of these two Spirits is anywhere close to accurate--remember we are getting this information third hand and as a product of Daniel torturing that poor woman--then Drake might be put off balance and on the run for a bit himself. That could give us some precious time to make arrangements for Alexa. Finally, if any genetic material does survive inside those things, we very well gain that critical DNA evidence to see if Drake really is an ancestor of any of us. Rusty, you’ve still got Daniel’s memories, right?”
I nodded, mulling over everything she had just said.
“Good. Then you probably also know where Daniel’s equipment is and how to use it, right?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. So here’s my plan--Rusty, you need to give Jim here the address and directions to Daniel’s lab and information he needs to access Daniel’s computer files and lab notes. If he needs any special identification or permissions to get inside, you need to make arrangements for those as well. Jim, you’ll want to get there and start puzzling out how to use the equipment and see about gathering up all of the genetic data on Casters and all of the other subjects of their genetic program, but be ready to test some samples when we return with them.
“Rusty, Frau and I will take the urns to a place I know about in the Upper Peninsula where we can perform a series of rituals prior to releasing the Spirits in the urns.”
“What about me?” Ravyn asked, almost plaintively.
Cerrydwen actually smiled at that. “Ravyn, sis, you’ve had your share of excitement lately. It’s time to let some of the rest of us play around in your sandbox. Besides, we really do need to be concerned about Drake’s new abilities, so someone with Power needs to be near Alexa, just in case. I was thinking of asking you to accompany Herne back to Colorado with Alexa. Herne and Moira are experienced parents and can easily handle the mundane chores of taking care of a young child. Herne can handle himself against almost any magickal threat as well, but if Drake comes for her, he has no way to escape with Alexa to safety like you do.”
Ravyn looked almost sullen for a moment, then perked up as Bob floated down to nuzzle her neck. “Well, at least I won’t have to babysit a Zombie, I can actually babysit for a real baby this time! Betsy does need some time to heal up as well, that damn dragon’s acid was potent.”
Looking around at everyone’s thoughtful faces, Cerrydwen nodded. “It appears to be settled then. I think we all have some prep work to do to get ready, right?”
The Professor took a long, deliberate swig from his ever present two-liter of Diet Pepsi and began to speak. “So, it doesn’t look like Daniel opened up either urn. We can also figure that Drake still wants them back. Now that he has some of your ability to manipulate and travel through Shadow, he will be even harder to locate or predict. Finally, we also have Alexa to consider. We now know that she was the product of some sort of twisted genetic program of Daniel’s and Drake’s devising, so I sincerely doubt that Drake is going to let us raise her in peace in the way that we would choose. What do we do with these urns? How do we protect ourselves from a vengeful Vampire with the powers of a Demigod? And how do we protect Alexa long enough to let her grow up into the young woman she’s quite possibly destined to be? Those are the questions we need to resolve. Does anyone have any answers?”
Cerrydwen pushed herself free from the corner she had been lurking in and stepped forward to the edge of our little circle, a wicked grin on her face. “I say we release the Spirits in the urns.”
An uproar of voices met this suggestion. “What...?” “Why would we do that...?” “Not in my house...!”
Herne’s was the only voice that remained calm and quiet as his statement cut through the cries of everyone else. “I agree with Cerrydwen. Release those Spirits, it’s not right to hold them imprisoned in this way.”
Cerrywen raised a single hand, forehead furrowed like the noise of everyone speaking gave her headache. When everyone quieted down, she began to speak again. “Herne’s right. It’s wrong to leave those Spirits imprisoned. I had been wondering why I had been feeling so ill since they were brought out, but I can tell you that there are two very unhappy entities trapped within them. I can feel their pain. But, Jim, I am not suggesting that they be opened here in your home, or anywhere near where Alexa is.”
Jim piped in. “Damn straight.”
Cerrydwen nodded in acknowledgement and continued on. “Releasing these two Spirits serves a number of purposes. First, Drake won’t be hunting for them if they no longer contain the Spirits of his trapped parents. Second, if what we have heard of these two Spirits is anywhere close to accurate--remember we are getting this information third hand and as a product of Daniel torturing that poor woman--then Drake might be put off balance and on the run for a bit himself. That could give us some precious time to make arrangements for Alexa. Finally, if any genetic material does survive inside those things, we very well gain that critical DNA evidence to see if Drake really is an ancestor of any of us. Rusty, you’ve still got Daniel’s memories, right?”
I nodded, mulling over everything she had just said.
“Good. Then you probably also know where Daniel’s equipment is and how to use it, right?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. So here’s my plan--Rusty, you need to give Jim here the address and directions to Daniel’s lab and information he needs to access Daniel’s computer files and lab notes. If he needs any special identification or permissions to get inside, you need to make arrangements for those as well. Jim, you’ll want to get there and start puzzling out how to use the equipment and see about gathering up all of the genetic data on Casters and all of the other subjects of their genetic program, but be ready to test some samples when we return with them.
“Rusty, Frau and I will take the urns to a place I know about in the Upper Peninsula where we can perform a series of rituals prior to releasing the Spirits in the urns.”
“What about me?” Ravyn asked, almost plaintively.
Cerrydwen actually smiled at that. “Ravyn, sis, you’ve had your share of excitement lately. It’s time to let some of the rest of us play around in your sandbox. Besides, we really do need to be concerned about Drake’s new abilities, so someone with Power needs to be near Alexa, just in case. I was thinking of asking you to accompany Herne back to Colorado with Alexa. Herne and Moira are experienced parents and can easily handle the mundane chores of taking care of a young child. Herne can handle himself against almost any magickal threat as well, but if Drake comes for her, he has no way to escape with Alexa to safety like you do.”
Ravyn looked almost sullen for a moment, then perked up as Bob floated down to nuzzle her neck. “Well, at least I won’t have to babysit a Zombie, I can actually babysit for a real baby this time! Betsy does need some time to heal up as well, that damn dragon’s acid was potent.”
Looking around at everyone’s thoughtful faces, Cerrydwen nodded. “It appears to be settled then. I think we all have some prep work to do to get ready, right?”
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Conclave...Part 8
Staring down at the two archaic, cuneiform-inscribed, sealed bronze urns, I rubbed my hands together in a nervous fashion and started speaking again.
“It was only when Mrs. Al Farhan presented herself and claimed a connection with Drake and his past that Daniel began to piece together the fact that the two great mysteries he had been struggling with were intimately connected. Mrs. Al Farhan had hoped to earn her freedom by revealing her connection with Drake. Instead, she descended into a Hell that rivaled anything done at Abu Ghraib either by Saddam and his twisted sons, or by the misguided American soldiers who made that name famous again.
“It’s painful for me to recall all of the details of how he got her talk about all she had learned, so I will just summarize it without adding in any of those gruesome details.
“These two bronze urns contain the dessicated remains of Drake’s parents. The one on the left, the one inscribed with great dragon Tiamat on it contains his mother’s remains, while the one on the right contains the body of the human avatar Dracaar, that his father used at the time of Drake’s birth.”
“Wait a minute!” That was Ravyn. “Didn’t you just say that his father was some sort of same type of being as Ma Grendel was? What is this avatar crap? Was the man human or not?”
“I’m not real sure I understand the concept yet myself, but from my understanding through Daniel and Mrs. Al Farhan is that the body in this urn, is or at least was, mostly human. It seems that this type of beings can take human form when they choose to, but for the time that they do so, they take on the mantle of mortal existence and may be killed. From my memories of Ma Grendel, this death is not in any way permanent, she has been slain or died a number of times over the eons.
“But the importance of these urns is that each of them contains not only the physical remains of his parents, but also the Spirit of each.”
The Professor leaned forward, pointing to the urns. “So, you’re saying that at least one of these urns contains the Spirit of a god-like critter...and you brought them to my house?”
All eyes were on the two ancient urns. The room suddenly seemed slightly darker, by the shivers of the others, it also appeared to be colder.
“Well, uh, yes. That is why Drake is so desperate to have them back. The last thing he wants is for either of these Spirits to get loose. That is what he had been looking for when he first met Mrs. Al Farhan, and why he wanted them back from Daniel. You see, Daniel didn’t put much stock in ‘spirits’ being trapped in bronze urns. He was after the genetic material in the physical remains themselves.
“Knowing from his questioning of Mrs. Al Farhan that Drake fathered hundreds of children over the milennia, and having recovered a sample of Drake’s hair from Mrs. Al Farhan that she had received as a keepsake, Daniel was desperate to prove his new theory that the common ancestor of most Casters alive today was Drake himself--but even with the hair sample, his sample set was incomplete--he needed to test the remains of Drake’s parents to be sure.”
“It was only when Mrs. Al Farhan presented herself and claimed a connection with Drake and his past that Daniel began to piece together the fact that the two great mysteries he had been struggling with were intimately connected. Mrs. Al Farhan had hoped to earn her freedom by revealing her connection with Drake. Instead, she descended into a Hell that rivaled anything done at Abu Ghraib either by Saddam and his twisted sons, or by the misguided American soldiers who made that name famous again.
“It’s painful for me to recall all of the details of how he got her talk about all she had learned, so I will just summarize it without adding in any of those gruesome details.
“These two bronze urns contain the dessicated remains of Drake’s parents. The one on the left, the one inscribed with great dragon Tiamat on it contains his mother’s remains, while the one on the right contains the body of the human avatar Dracaar, that his father used at the time of Drake’s birth.”
“Wait a minute!” That was Ravyn. “Didn’t you just say that his father was some sort of same type of being as Ma Grendel was? What is this avatar crap? Was the man human or not?”
“I’m not real sure I understand the concept yet myself, but from my understanding through Daniel and Mrs. Al Farhan is that the body in this urn, is or at least was, mostly human. It seems that this type of beings can take human form when they choose to, but for the time that they do so, they take on the mantle of mortal existence and may be killed. From my memories of Ma Grendel, this death is not in any way permanent, she has been slain or died a number of times over the eons.
“But the importance of these urns is that each of them contains not only the physical remains of his parents, but also the Spirit of each.”
The Professor leaned forward, pointing to the urns. “So, you’re saying that at least one of these urns contains the Spirit of a god-like critter...and you brought them to my house?”
All eyes were on the two ancient urns. The room suddenly seemed slightly darker, by the shivers of the others, it also appeared to be colder.
“Well, uh, yes. That is why Drake is so desperate to have them back. The last thing he wants is for either of these Spirits to get loose. That is what he had been looking for when he first met Mrs. Al Farhan, and why he wanted them back from Daniel. You see, Daniel didn’t put much stock in ‘spirits’ being trapped in bronze urns. He was after the genetic material in the physical remains themselves.
“Knowing from his questioning of Mrs. Al Farhan that Drake fathered hundreds of children over the milennia, and having recovered a sample of Drake’s hair from Mrs. Al Farhan that she had received as a keepsake, Daniel was desperate to prove his new theory that the common ancestor of most Casters alive today was Drake himself--but even with the hair sample, his sample set was incomplete--he needed to test the remains of Drake’s parents to be sure.”
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Conclave...Part 7
Herne tilted his head and interjected, “What price is that?”
“Drake discovered his talent while laying mortally wounded on a large field of battle buried underneath several other foot soldiers, one of whom was slowly bleeding to death, the blood dripping onto Drake’s lips. Even as he was dying, he could feel a stirring of his Will, but there was a terrible thirst that had to be quenched before his Talent would respond to his Will. He succumbed to the thirst and drank of the fluid that was there for the taking.
“To make a long story slightly shorter, Drake discovered thatr by drinking blood, human blood in particular, he could repair even the direst of wounds to his own body. He was able to get up from under that pile of bodies and walk away from that battlefield unscathed, but forever changed.
“He didn’t, however, fight any more battles for Ur. Instead, he slipped away for several years to learn more and more about his talent, but the more he experimented with it, the more insatiable his Thirst became.”
Frau shifted in her chair, clucked her tongue and added, “He became a Vampire. That’s one critter I had hoped was but a legend.”
“Indeed, Drake’s exploits over the milennia have been the basis for most of the legends about Vampires in a number of cultures.”
Herne spoke up again, “So, his control over his body is so good that he doesn’t age, makes him stronger than any man I’ve met, and makes him almost impossible to kill?”
“Yes. So long as he has a sufficient supply of human blood to feed his Talent, he can do all of that and more. He has had thousands of years of practice and training in every conceivable martial art and form of combat known to mankind to hone his reflexes and become an ultra-effective killing machine, when he chooses to do so. He can essentially control every muscle and nerve in his body to such a degree that he can perform superhuman feats of strength, stamina and speed. He has also modified his own body, doing many of things to his own body by force of his Will and his Talent that he had done to mine with technology and magick. His bones are denser, his muscles far stronger and faster than any mere human.”
Ravyn was getting impatient. She stood up to stretch, moved around behind her chair and leaned over before interrupting. “So Drake’s a Vampire, big damn deal. What’s this got to do with him being related to any of us, and what the heck does this have to do with Bernstein’s experiments? Let’s get this story moving, Zombie-boy, the rest of us here don’t have the patience of the dead!”
“Boy, isn’t that the truth.” I quipped back at her. “OK, OK, I’ll move this along...”
“Drake discovered his talent while laying mortally wounded on a large field of battle buried underneath several other foot soldiers, one of whom was slowly bleeding to death, the blood dripping onto Drake’s lips. Even as he was dying, he could feel a stirring of his Will, but there was a terrible thirst that had to be quenched before his Talent would respond to his Will. He succumbed to the thirst and drank of the fluid that was there for the taking.
“To make a long story slightly shorter, Drake discovered thatr by drinking blood, human blood in particular, he could repair even the direst of wounds to his own body. He was able to get up from under that pile of bodies and walk away from that battlefield unscathed, but forever changed.
“He didn’t, however, fight any more battles for Ur. Instead, he slipped away for several years to learn more and more about his talent, but the more he experimented with it, the more insatiable his Thirst became.”
Frau shifted in her chair, clucked her tongue and added, “He became a Vampire. That’s one critter I had hoped was but a legend.”
“Indeed, Drake’s exploits over the milennia have been the basis for most of the legends about Vampires in a number of cultures.”
Herne spoke up again, “So, his control over his body is so good that he doesn’t age, makes him stronger than any man I’ve met, and makes him almost impossible to kill?”
“Yes. So long as he has a sufficient supply of human blood to feed his Talent, he can do all of that and more. He has had thousands of years of practice and training in every conceivable martial art and form of combat known to mankind to hone his reflexes and become an ultra-effective killing machine, when he chooses to do so. He can essentially control every muscle and nerve in his body to such a degree that he can perform superhuman feats of strength, stamina and speed. He has also modified his own body, doing many of things to his own body by force of his Will and his Talent that he had done to mine with technology and magick. His bones are denser, his muscles far stronger and faster than any mere human.”
Ravyn was getting impatient. She stood up to stretch, moved around behind her chair and leaned over before interrupting. “So Drake’s a Vampire, big damn deal. What’s this got to do with him being related to any of us, and what the heck does this have to do with Bernstein’s experiments? Let’s get this story moving, Zombie-boy, the rest of us here don’t have the patience of the dead!”
“Boy, isn’t that the truth.” I quipped back at her. “OK, OK, I’ll move this along...”
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