“Rusty, we invoked the Law of Hospitality when we came to this place--asking the Spirit here to open its home to us--that same Spirit requires us to observe that same law now that there is another person coming. That Spirit makes no distinction between Drake and any other visitor. Therefore, we must observe the Law.”
“I see. So how soon will he be here?”
“He could be here any moment. This meat looks done enough for now. Come with me.”
Cerrydwen stood up, planted the butt-end of her stick into the soft earth and strode over to the table.
I followed her example with my stick and followed her.
As she turned to face me, I was again confronted directly with her near naked form. I tried to keep my eyes from wandering, focusing instead on her face.
She stood silent for a moment, closed her eyes and shuddered momentarily. When her eyes opened, they were glowing with a soft white light. Her voice, when she spoke, was more dynamic, taking on a kind of distant quality like she was using a hidden microphone.
“Have you come to this sacred island of your own free will?”
Confused for a moment, I didn’t answer immediately. “Uh...yes.”
“Why have you come?”
“I want to release...uh..the trapped spirits in these two urns.”
“You are an honored guest in this place, it is my duty to see that you are safe from harm. The Spirits within those vessels are held by magick and curses of ancient origin. As the Guardian of this place, I ask that you entrust these vessels and the Spirits contained within to my safekeeping. These beings will be released, but in a way that will insure the safety of you and my other guests. Is this acceptable to you?”
“Uh...yes, I suppose so.”
“Very well, I accept these urns and the charges they contain, in exchange for the hospitality that has been extended to you and your companions. Before you depart from this place, I will present you with gifts of my own as well.”
“OK...thanks, I guess.”
The white light faded from her eyes, Cerrydwen shuddered again and almost fell to her knees, but I caught her before she fell. She recovered quickly and was standing on her own again very quickly. When she noted my look of concern, she shrugged and flashed a quick, small smile. “It’s OK. I’m used to such visits.” She nodded back towards the beach we had landed on. “The Frau is coming back. That means Drake will have just arrived.”
I spun around to see the lumbering form of the greying black bear as it loped across the clearing towards us. As the bear approached to within ten feet of us, it stopped, sniffed at the fire and the bits of cooked hare and then shuffled off to the far side of the stone table before settling down for a nap.
“Rusty, you have now turned over responsibility for these urns to the Spirit of this place. The Spirit has asked me to welcome Drake and to deal with him. I need you to stay out of the conversation and to not interfere in any way with whatever happens. Is that clear?”
Her eyes were as intense as I had ever seen them, her expression one of grim determination. What else was there to say? “OK, I’ll try. But if things get nasty, I don’t know if I will be able to hold back.”
She stepped closer and whispered to me. “You must NOT interfere. No matter what happens. Trust in our hostess. Trust me. Now go stand on the other side of the table from the Frau. I see him coming through the woods now.”
I nodded, a tingle of suspense growing inside. Without looking back, I walked to the opposite side of the table from where the bear had settled. Once in place, I turned to see the dark form of Drake striding up to the now vulnerable looking form of Cerrydwen. For the first time, I noticed that the wind had kicked up, lending to the looming, ominous atmosphere...
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Saturday, May 13, 2006
The Law of Hospitality...Part 1
(Author’s Note: This series of posts is dedicated to all mothers and the sacrifices they make--but is especially dedicated to the two mothers who were the inspiration for Cerrydwen and the Frau--Happy Mother’s Day Pat and Mom! Thanks for all that you have done and continue to do!)
Cerrydwen emerged from the woods behind the table. In one arm she was carrying a large wooden bowl filled with apples and pears. In her other arm, she was carrying the carcass of a large hare, it’s head hanging loosely at an odd angle.
As she approached, she placed the large bowl on the table next to the two urns and nodded back in the direction she had come from. “Rusty, just beyond the woodline, you will find a small cabin. I need you to go get some of the firewood next to it and the tinderbox just inside of it. Oh, and grab the flint knife next to the tinderbox as well.”
“What are you doing with all of this? I thought we were expecting Drake anytime now?”
She didn’t bother looking up at me as she responded. “Yes, he will likely be here very soon.”
“So why are we making dinner? Are you expecting to kill his ass with kindness?”
She looked up now, eyes intense, but with an aura of patience. “There are certain rituals that must be followed in this, Rusty. The Law of Hospitality must be observed, even if our expected guest is not likely to appreciate it.”
“But why should we show that killer any hospitality at all?”
“Because that is the way of this place, the way of the Spirit who keeps this place sacred. We must observe each and every one of our obligations if we are to expect the hospitality and the protection of the Spirit of this place. There are no short cuts on this. So, will you please go get those things? Our time grows shorter by the moment.”
Grumbling all the way, I went in the direction she had indicated and found a small, almost invisible path into the woods that led to a small log cabin. Stacked next to the cabin was a couple of cords of neatly chopped and split firewood. I looked inside the open door of the place and quickly located the tinderbox and a large, flat piece of flint that looked like it had a razor sharp cutting edge on one side. I picked those two things up and grabbed an armful of firewood before heading back to the clearing.
When I came back out with those things, I found Cerrydwen kneeling in front of the large stone table. She had lain out the hare to be prepared for cooking, but the more shocking thing was to realize that she was now only wearing a loincloth since she had apparently shucked her clothing in the time that I was gone.
“Let me guess, more ritual crap, eh? This whole situation is getting to be very, very strange. First, we come to this weird island where I can’t even bring my weapons. Next, the Frau goes running off nekkid to turn into a damn bear, then you tell me we’re going to cook a damn dinner in honor of Drake, of all people, and now I find you almost naked. What is it with you two and this place?”
“Give me the knife, please.” Her hand was held out to receive it, her back was still to me.
I handed her the knife, careful to place the blunt edge in her palm as I did so.
“Thank you, now if you would be so kind as to build a fire in that stone circle to your left, I will explain a little more once I have this hare skinned and gutted.”
She then set quickly to work, using the primitive stone tool as easily as if she used such things to cook with on a regular basis. Meanwhile, I set to the task of building a fire, something I hadn’t done in many, many years.
By the time I had a small but respectable blaze going, Cerrydwen joined me, holding two long sticks with parts of the skinned hare skewered on them for cooking. She handed me one, then dropped to her haunches to place her stick over the fire to begin cooking it. The fat of the critter was soon dripping into the fire, making sizzling and popping sounds as it dripped onto the burning wood.
I joined her silently, letting her decide when to speak.
After several moments of quiet interrupted only by the crackling of the fire and the night sounds of the forest, she began.
“One of the most ancient of all human laws is the Law of Hospitality. That law basically states that if a traveller comes to your camp or your home and asks for it, you are to provide them with guest privileges and to guarantee their safety while they stay with you. By requesting such privileges however, the guest also incurs certain obligations--to treat the host well and not steal from him, or to insult him, to fulfill reasonable requests for assistance if asked to do so.”
“This does sound familiar.”
“Examples of this law can be found in a lot of older literature, like Homer’s epics and the epic of Beowulf.”
“I still don’t see how any of this would apply to Drake coming here, it’s not like he’s going to ask for anything other than these urns and he likely won’t even ask for them-he’ll just try to take them.”
(To be continued)
Cerrydwen emerged from the woods behind the table. In one arm she was carrying a large wooden bowl filled with apples and pears. In her other arm, she was carrying the carcass of a large hare, it’s head hanging loosely at an odd angle.
As she approached, she placed the large bowl on the table next to the two urns and nodded back in the direction she had come from. “Rusty, just beyond the woodline, you will find a small cabin. I need you to go get some of the firewood next to it and the tinderbox just inside of it. Oh, and grab the flint knife next to the tinderbox as well.”
“What are you doing with all of this? I thought we were expecting Drake anytime now?”
She didn’t bother looking up at me as she responded. “Yes, he will likely be here very soon.”
“So why are we making dinner? Are you expecting to kill his ass with kindness?”
She looked up now, eyes intense, but with an aura of patience. “There are certain rituals that must be followed in this, Rusty. The Law of Hospitality must be observed, even if our expected guest is not likely to appreciate it.”
“But why should we show that killer any hospitality at all?”
“Because that is the way of this place, the way of the Spirit who keeps this place sacred. We must observe each and every one of our obligations if we are to expect the hospitality and the protection of the Spirit of this place. There are no short cuts on this. So, will you please go get those things? Our time grows shorter by the moment.”
Grumbling all the way, I went in the direction she had indicated and found a small, almost invisible path into the woods that led to a small log cabin. Stacked next to the cabin was a couple of cords of neatly chopped and split firewood. I looked inside the open door of the place and quickly located the tinderbox and a large, flat piece of flint that looked like it had a razor sharp cutting edge on one side. I picked those two things up and grabbed an armful of firewood before heading back to the clearing.
When I came back out with those things, I found Cerrydwen kneeling in front of the large stone table. She had lain out the hare to be prepared for cooking, but the more shocking thing was to realize that she was now only wearing a loincloth since she had apparently shucked her clothing in the time that I was gone.
“Let me guess, more ritual crap, eh? This whole situation is getting to be very, very strange. First, we come to this weird island where I can’t even bring my weapons. Next, the Frau goes running off nekkid to turn into a damn bear, then you tell me we’re going to cook a damn dinner in honor of Drake, of all people, and now I find you almost naked. What is it with you two and this place?”
“Give me the knife, please.” Her hand was held out to receive it, her back was still to me.
I handed her the knife, careful to place the blunt edge in her palm as I did so.
“Thank you, now if you would be so kind as to build a fire in that stone circle to your left, I will explain a little more once I have this hare skinned and gutted.”
She then set quickly to work, using the primitive stone tool as easily as if she used such things to cook with on a regular basis. Meanwhile, I set to the task of building a fire, something I hadn’t done in many, many years.
By the time I had a small but respectable blaze going, Cerrydwen joined me, holding two long sticks with parts of the skinned hare skewered on them for cooking. She handed me one, then dropped to her haunches to place her stick over the fire to begin cooking it. The fat of the critter was soon dripping into the fire, making sizzling and popping sounds as it dripped onto the burning wood.
I joined her silently, letting her decide when to speak.
After several moments of quiet interrupted only by the crackling of the fire and the night sounds of the forest, she began.
“One of the most ancient of all human laws is the Law of Hospitality. That law basically states that if a traveller comes to your camp or your home and asks for it, you are to provide them with guest privileges and to guarantee their safety while they stay with you. By requesting such privileges however, the guest also incurs certain obligations--to treat the host well and not steal from him, or to insult him, to fulfill reasonable requests for assistance if asked to do so.”
“This does sound familiar.”
“Examples of this law can be found in a lot of older literature, like Homer’s epics and the epic of Beowulf.”
“I still don’t see how any of this would apply to Drake coming here, it’s not like he’s going to ask for anything other than these urns and he likely won’t even ask for them-he’ll just try to take them.”
(To be continued)
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Anticipation...
I finished brushing off the debris from the massive stone table and cast aside the worn out pine branch that I used to finish it. Maybe ten minutes had passed since Cerrydwen disappeared back into the woods, but I couldn’t be sure.
It seemed more like an eternity.
I knelt down beside the duffle bag, unzipped it, and pulled out the smaller of the two urns.
This was the urn that was inscribed with the ancient image of Tiamat, a seven-headed sea serpent. It was about the size of a bowling ball, but more oblong in shape. It was cast out of bronze, now weathered badly. The cuneiform inscriptions along the bottom of the image of Tiamat were worn almost to the point of being indecipherable, but as I looked at the words formed by the strange markings, their meaning crystallized in my mind-- “This vessel contains the remains and the immortal soul of Madeena, servant of Tiamat, consort of Dracaar. Cursed is he who disturbs the sentence of this criminal.”
As those words turned in my mind, I set that urn up on the stone table, reaching down to pull the other, larger one out of the bag. The second urn was not decorated in any fashion, no stylized images of serpents, gods, or creatures graced this thing, yet as I held it, it felt heavier, more...important.
Despite the lack of ornamentation, this urn was also inscribed with cunieform markings that spelled out a dire warning-- “Cursed is the bloodline of he who breaks the seal on this vessel. Doom, Death and Destruction to any who violate4 this sacred seal.”
I set the second urn up on the stone table as well and stood facing them, contemplating what actually would happen when they were opened. I felt a small chill deep inside. The anticipation was horrible...
(Dear readers--my apologies for the small post, but circumstances this week have prevented me from writing further. Look for a burst of posts to take place starting Thursday, May 11.--DSP)
It seemed more like an eternity.
I knelt down beside the duffle bag, unzipped it, and pulled out the smaller of the two urns.
This was the urn that was inscribed with the ancient image of Tiamat, a seven-headed sea serpent. It was about the size of a bowling ball, but more oblong in shape. It was cast out of bronze, now weathered badly. The cuneiform inscriptions along the bottom of the image of Tiamat were worn almost to the point of being indecipherable, but as I looked at the words formed by the strange markings, their meaning crystallized in my mind-- “This vessel contains the remains and the immortal soul of Madeena, servant of Tiamat, consort of Dracaar. Cursed is he who disturbs the sentence of this criminal.”
As those words turned in my mind, I set that urn up on the stone table, reaching down to pull the other, larger one out of the bag. The second urn was not decorated in any fashion, no stylized images of serpents, gods, or creatures graced this thing, yet as I held it, it felt heavier, more...important.
Despite the lack of ornamentation, this urn was also inscribed with cunieform markings that spelled out a dire warning-- “Cursed is the bloodline of he who breaks the seal on this vessel. Doom, Death and Destruction to any who violate4 this sacred seal.”
I set the second urn up on the stone table as well and stood facing them, contemplating what actually would happen when they were opened. I felt a small chill deep inside. The anticipation was horrible...
(Dear readers--my apologies for the small post, but circumstances this week have prevented me from writing further. Look for a burst of posts to take place starting Thursday, May 11.--DSP)
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Wax On, Wax Off...Part 2
“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....
“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....
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...”
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Conclave...Part 6
“It was only when Daniel was sent to Iraq that the answers he was seeking about both Drake and that mysterious common ancestor of most Casters literally fell into his hands.”
“That Iraqi woman, Mrs. Al Farhan?” That was the Frau.
I nodded. “He had no idea that two great mysteries he was trying to puzzle out were actually related, literally. But once Mrs. Al Farhan came under his control, and once she offered up her knowledge of Drake in an attempt to gain her freedom, Daniel couldn’t resist...taking it from her in some very unpleasnat ways.”
Cerrydwen’s eyes narrowed as she broke into the narrative. “You mean he raped that poor woman in just about every way that can be done.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, he raped her...brutally raped her...in a number of ways, all of which are now resting in my memories. Once he learned that she had the Talent that she did, and that she had the chance to use the Talent on Drake, his greed to know more and more became unquenchable.”
Ravyn piped in now. “That’s still no excuse for what he did to her!”
I held up my hands. “True. Trust me, I am offering up no excuses for that wretched excuse of a man. But, because of what he did, I have a much fuller understanding of Drake’s history and just how great this challenge is going to be. I have pieced together a good portion of his history now between Mrs. Al Farhan, Daniel’s memories, Ma Grendel’s memories and Drake’s own statements to me over time. It makes for a Hell of story, one I’m not sure I entirely believe, but one that I need to tell you all so that you can see what exactly it is that we are facing. I will also then tie it in to what Daniel then learned of the genetic question he had been pursuing.
“Drake was born between 5,000 and 6,000 years ago in the ancient city-state of Ur, one of the first great cities to rise in Mesopotamia, the place we now know of as Iraq. His mother was a powerful society woman who was also a secret priestess of Tiamat, the great She-Dragon of middle eastern mythology. Her Order was actually forbidden by the ruling powers in the city, since Tiamat was seen as a powerful evil force and as representing primal chaos.
“His mother, however, was in no real danger due to her membership in that Order because she was the mistress of one of the most powerful men in the city, the King’s most trusted general and advisor- a man who went by the name of Dracaar. This would have made Drake a very powerful man in his own right, except that things are even stranger than that. It turns out that his father was no mere human. His father was a being of the same ilk as Ma Grendel...one of a number of such beings who have taken on human guises over the years and even mated with humans.”
The Frau furrowed her brow, parsed her lips and spoke up. “A creature of Ma Grendel’s strength would have been seen pretty much as a god at that time.”
“Indeed. From those memories of hers that I still have, Ma Grendel herself has been worshipped in many societies as a powerful goddess and feared in even more as a demoness. Those memories also show that her exploits have become the basis for a number of myths and legends. We even continue to refer to her even now by a name that one of her children acquired through the legend of Beowulf.”
It was the Professor’s turn to scratch his head and chime in. “So, you’re saying that Drake’s father was a god-like creature similar in power to that of this Ma Grendel you fought in New York. Wouldn’t that make Drake a demi-god of sorts? That might explain why he appears to be almost unkillable.”
“Yes and no. When Mrs. Al Farhan touched Drake, she absorbed much of this early history from him, but she also learned that his apparent immortality is something that he acquired only when he learned how to utilize the Talent that he actually had. You see, his father actually considered Drake a failure because he didn’t seem to have any of the magickal talents that most children of such unions had. He sent the young Drake away from Ur to serve in the army as a foot soldier since he didn’t have the apparent talent to become anything more useful.
“But it was in the course of that life as a soldier that Drake discovered his Talent. He had a unique ability to control his body, even down to a cellular level. Utilizing that Talent to its fullest extent however, came with a terrible price...”
“That Iraqi woman, Mrs. Al Farhan?” That was the Frau.
I nodded. “He had no idea that two great mysteries he was trying to puzzle out were actually related, literally. But once Mrs. Al Farhan came under his control, and once she offered up her knowledge of Drake in an attempt to gain her freedom, Daniel couldn’t resist...taking it from her in some very unpleasnat ways.”
Cerrydwen’s eyes narrowed as she broke into the narrative. “You mean he raped that poor woman in just about every way that can be done.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, he raped her...brutally raped her...in a number of ways, all of which are now resting in my memories. Once he learned that she had the Talent that she did, and that she had the chance to use the Talent on Drake, his greed to know more and more became unquenchable.”
Ravyn piped in now. “That’s still no excuse for what he did to her!”
I held up my hands. “True. Trust me, I am offering up no excuses for that wretched excuse of a man. But, because of what he did, I have a much fuller understanding of Drake’s history and just how great this challenge is going to be. I have pieced together a good portion of his history now between Mrs. Al Farhan, Daniel’s memories, Ma Grendel’s memories and Drake’s own statements to me over time. It makes for a Hell of story, one I’m not sure I entirely believe, but one that I need to tell you all so that you can see what exactly it is that we are facing. I will also then tie it in to what Daniel then learned of the genetic question he had been pursuing.
“Drake was born between 5,000 and 6,000 years ago in the ancient city-state of Ur, one of the first great cities to rise in Mesopotamia, the place we now know of as Iraq. His mother was a powerful society woman who was also a secret priestess of Tiamat, the great She-Dragon of middle eastern mythology. Her Order was actually forbidden by the ruling powers in the city, since Tiamat was seen as a powerful evil force and as representing primal chaos.
“His mother, however, was in no real danger due to her membership in that Order because she was the mistress of one of the most powerful men in the city, the King’s most trusted general and advisor- a man who went by the name of Dracaar. This would have made Drake a very powerful man in his own right, except that things are even stranger than that. It turns out that his father was no mere human. His father was a being of the same ilk as Ma Grendel...one of a number of such beings who have taken on human guises over the years and even mated with humans.”
The Frau furrowed her brow, parsed her lips and spoke up. “A creature of Ma Grendel’s strength would have been seen pretty much as a god at that time.”
“Indeed. From those memories of hers that I still have, Ma Grendel herself has been worshipped in many societies as a powerful goddess and feared in even more as a demoness. Those memories also show that her exploits have become the basis for a number of myths and legends. We even continue to refer to her even now by a name that one of her children acquired through the legend of Beowulf.”
It was the Professor’s turn to scratch his head and chime in. “So, you’re saying that Drake’s father was a god-like creature similar in power to that of this Ma Grendel you fought in New York. Wouldn’t that make Drake a demi-god of sorts? That might explain why he appears to be almost unkillable.”
“Yes and no. When Mrs. Al Farhan touched Drake, she absorbed much of this early history from him, but she also learned that his apparent immortality is something that he acquired only when he learned how to utilize the Talent that he actually had. You see, his father actually considered Drake a failure because he didn’t seem to have any of the magickal talents that most children of such unions had. He sent the young Drake away from Ur to serve in the army as a foot soldier since he didn’t have the apparent talent to become anything more useful.
“But it was in the course of that life as a soldier that Drake discovered his Talent. He had a unique ability to control his body, even down to a cellular level. Utilizing that Talent to its fullest extent however, came with a terrible price...”
Friday, March 24, 2006
Conclave...Part 5
I stopped speaking for a moment, taking time to look at each of my companions before dropping the bombshell that was about to come out. Each of them was clearly absorbed in what I had been saying, but they all seemed to sense that a change was coming as well.
I leaned forward a little bit, looking down at the floor before continuing. “Daniel Bernstein had the goods on Drake, right down to a genetic profile of the man that identified a very scary fact, one that may impact each of you. Mrs. Al Farhan is not the only known relative of Drake.”
Ravyn piped in. “What? Who else is related to that abominable man?”
“Well, darling, you are almost definitely related to him, probably less distantly than most other Casters, given how strong your talent is.”
“You can’t be serious! Can you?”
I held up my hands at sounds of derision and anger that everyone was starting to make. “Unfortunately, I am. But let me explain a little bit.”
They all settled back, most with looks of confusion or doubt clearly expressed on their faces.
“Daniel was first and foremost, a first class geneticist. He actually had a number of different specialties for a man his age, but his true love of science fell in the field of genetics. He was doing a lot of work for Drake under the guise of the Omega Project. He had several teams of people out there gathering genetic samples from several sources.
“First, he had a team that was offering free genetic screenings for young women and couples looking to have children, ostensibly screening for various diseases and carrier genes that might cause problems. They provided some of that information to those potential parents, but they retained a great deal more for Daniel’s secret library.
“A second team was out doing research using various media sources to gather signs of what might be considered ‘magickal incidents’ and tracking down the names of the people involved. Then using the resources of the Bureau and operating under the auspices of certain shady provisions of the Patriot Act, they set about obtaining genetic samples from any available source. These ranged from taking samples that folks gave up voluntarily to their doctors, such as when they had blood tests done to even using sneak and peek searches of the homes of people who were gone at the time so that they could collect hair follicles from hair brushes or even tooth brushes.
“Finally, other teams were out infiltrating known groups of Casters, such as this one, using every possible way to collect further genetic samples, up to and including arranging the snatching of folks off the street, drugging them into unconsciousness, and taking samples before releasing them in out of the way locations.”
Cerrydwen interjected this time, with more than a little sarcasm dripping from her voice. “So, how does this relate to Drake being my long lost great, great grandfather?”
“I’m getting to it. Anyway, as he began to analyze his data, he began to notice certain common markers that almost every tested Caster shared to one degree or another, something that pointed to a common ancestor, even among seemingly disparate cultural and ethnic groups.
“Daniel had had a suspicion that Drake was hiding something for a long time. He had noted how Drake never actually ate a meal in his presence, and never seemed to drink anything other than occasional sips of water over the course of their many years of working together. He suspected that Drake was a Caster of some sort as well, but whenever he tried to broach the subject, Drake just smiled, shrugged and usually ignored answering the question altogether. When he did offer an answer, it was more in the form of a question-’Have you ever seen me use magick?’ or ‘Why would you think that, Bernstein?’
To be continued...
I leaned forward a little bit, looking down at the floor before continuing. “Daniel Bernstein had the goods on Drake, right down to a genetic profile of the man that identified a very scary fact, one that may impact each of you. Mrs. Al Farhan is not the only known relative of Drake.”
Ravyn piped in. “What? Who else is related to that abominable man?”
“Well, darling, you are almost definitely related to him, probably less distantly than most other Casters, given how strong your talent is.”
“You can’t be serious! Can you?”
I held up my hands at sounds of derision and anger that everyone was starting to make. “Unfortunately, I am. But let me explain a little bit.”
They all settled back, most with looks of confusion or doubt clearly expressed on their faces.
“Daniel was first and foremost, a first class geneticist. He actually had a number of different specialties for a man his age, but his true love of science fell in the field of genetics. He was doing a lot of work for Drake under the guise of the Omega Project. He had several teams of people out there gathering genetic samples from several sources.
“First, he had a team that was offering free genetic screenings for young women and couples looking to have children, ostensibly screening for various diseases and carrier genes that might cause problems. They provided some of that information to those potential parents, but they retained a great deal more for Daniel’s secret library.
“A second team was out doing research using various media sources to gather signs of what might be considered ‘magickal incidents’ and tracking down the names of the people involved. Then using the resources of the Bureau and operating under the auspices of certain shady provisions of the Patriot Act, they set about obtaining genetic samples from any available source. These ranged from taking samples that folks gave up voluntarily to their doctors, such as when they had blood tests done to even using sneak and peek searches of the homes of people who were gone at the time so that they could collect hair follicles from hair brushes or even tooth brushes.
“Finally, other teams were out infiltrating known groups of Casters, such as this one, using every possible way to collect further genetic samples, up to and including arranging the snatching of folks off the street, drugging them into unconsciousness, and taking samples before releasing them in out of the way locations.”
Cerrydwen interjected this time, with more than a little sarcasm dripping from her voice. “So, how does this relate to Drake being my long lost great, great grandfather?”
“I’m getting to it. Anyway, as he began to analyze his data, he began to notice certain common markers that almost every tested Caster shared to one degree or another, something that pointed to a common ancestor, even among seemingly disparate cultural and ethnic groups.
“Daniel had had a suspicion that Drake was hiding something for a long time. He had noted how Drake never actually ate a meal in his presence, and never seemed to drink anything other than occasional sips of water over the course of their many years of working together. He suspected that Drake was a Caster of some sort as well, but whenever he tried to broach the subject, Drake just smiled, shrugged and usually ignored answering the question altogether. When he did offer an answer, it was more in the form of a question-’Have you ever seen me use magick?’ or ‘Why would you think that, Bernstein?’
To be continued...
Monday, March 20, 2006
Conclave...Part 4
Despite the lighthearted banter and joking as the Frau continued to remove fragments of Drake’s sword from my body, I could see the obvious concern on the faces of my companions. The news that Drake had acquired at least some of my mastery over Shadow was more than a little disconcerting to everyone present.
Using more of her unsurpassed seamstress skills than her Healing talents, the Frau quickly patched up my gut innards, using copious amounts of thick, sinew-like fishing line that Jim had had sitting in his garage. Finally, she closed up the leather like flesh of my stomach using big, looping stitches to close the jagged wound.
As she was finishing her work, my consciousness sunk inwards, as I set in motion my own internal mechanisms for patching things up. It was no longer a process that happened automatically, but one that now took a great deal of concentration and energy.
The Frau tut-tutted again as she pulled away from me, her hands a mess of sticky, presumably stinky goo. The others avoided her with wrinkled noses and mutters as she toddled off to go wash up.
I sat up slowly, rolling my left shoulder and stretching that arm out gingerly, making a fist and opening the hand back up carefully. I was glad to see that the paralysis was only temporary.
I stood up from the floor where I had been laying on an old, now ruined blanket and moved over to an empty stool. Herne quickly bent down and rolled it up in to a sodden, soiled taco and removed it, showing little reaction to what had to be a nasty job.
Frau came back in the room and moved to her own comfortable chair, signalling the others to take their own places around the circle.
Jim had grabbed a laptop and a pile of file folders, notes and loose papers from his den and brought the whole mess to his seat, next to an already cluttered table. In one practiced motion, he swept the stack of newspapersd and magazines from the table and sat down with a grunt.
Ravyn had taken the time to clean the smoke, dirt and blood from her face and arms. She had also found, much to my disappointment, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt to replace her rather distracting Faire costume. She was now sitting directly across from me in the semi-circle arrangement, too tired to be her normal bouncy self. Her eyes, however, burned with an intensity that indicated that she was fully prepared to say her piece when given the chance.
Cerrydwen hovered near the outer edge of the group, not sitting so much as she was leaning against a sturdy book case. She was her normal brooding self, intent on watching everything and everyone at the same time. She made no secret of the fact that with one bounding step she could be up the stairs and on her way to Alexa’s room, should the need arise.
Herne, in the meantime, had slipped back into the room without anyone really noticing him and was seated next to the Frau. He had one of his long hunting knives out and was calmly inspecting the blade for any sign of a blemish.
The dusty duffle bag and the two archaic cannisters sat in the middle of the gathering.
Once I noticed that everyone was in place, I began a dry, mechanical re-telling of my journeys since I had left for the Tree, starting with the meeting of Alexa’s mother there and ending up with battle with Drake.
Ravyn piped in here and there when I left out an embarassing detail or two.
Once I finished with that generic tale of just the events as they happened, it was time to get down to the nitty gritty details of some of the secrets I had learned when I finally unlocked the walls around Daniel’s memories...
To be continued...
Using more of her unsurpassed seamstress skills than her Healing talents, the Frau quickly patched up my gut innards, using copious amounts of thick, sinew-like fishing line that Jim had had sitting in his garage. Finally, she closed up the leather like flesh of my stomach using big, looping stitches to close the jagged wound.
As she was finishing her work, my consciousness sunk inwards, as I set in motion my own internal mechanisms for patching things up. It was no longer a process that happened automatically, but one that now took a great deal of concentration and energy.
The Frau tut-tutted again as she pulled away from me, her hands a mess of sticky, presumably stinky goo. The others avoided her with wrinkled noses and mutters as she toddled off to go wash up.
I sat up slowly, rolling my left shoulder and stretching that arm out gingerly, making a fist and opening the hand back up carefully. I was glad to see that the paralysis was only temporary.
I stood up from the floor where I had been laying on an old, now ruined blanket and moved over to an empty stool. Herne quickly bent down and rolled it up in to a sodden, soiled taco and removed it, showing little reaction to what had to be a nasty job.
Frau came back in the room and moved to her own comfortable chair, signalling the others to take their own places around the circle.
Jim had grabbed a laptop and a pile of file folders, notes and loose papers from his den and brought the whole mess to his seat, next to an already cluttered table. In one practiced motion, he swept the stack of newspapersd and magazines from the table and sat down with a grunt.
Ravyn had taken the time to clean the smoke, dirt and blood from her face and arms. She had also found, much to my disappointment, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt to replace her rather distracting Faire costume. She was now sitting directly across from me in the semi-circle arrangement, too tired to be her normal bouncy self. Her eyes, however, burned with an intensity that indicated that she was fully prepared to say her piece when given the chance.
Cerrydwen hovered near the outer edge of the group, not sitting so much as she was leaning against a sturdy book case. She was her normal brooding self, intent on watching everything and everyone at the same time. She made no secret of the fact that with one bounding step she could be up the stairs and on her way to Alexa’s room, should the need arise.
Herne, in the meantime, had slipped back into the room without anyone really noticing him and was seated next to the Frau. He had one of his long hunting knives out and was calmly inspecting the blade for any sign of a blemish.
The dusty duffle bag and the two archaic cannisters sat in the middle of the gathering.
Once I noticed that everyone was in place, I began a dry, mechanical re-telling of my journeys since I had left for the Tree, starting with the meeting of Alexa’s mother there and ending up with battle with Drake.
Ravyn piped in here and there when I left out an embarassing detail or two.
Once I finished with that generic tale of just the events as they happened, it was time to get down to the nitty gritty details of some of the secrets I had learned when I finally unlocked the walls around Daniel’s memories...
To be continued...
Conclave...Part 3
The journey from the Faire to the Professor’s home was done in multiple stages, but it took place so quickly, it was almost a blur.
First, we landed at the stone circle outside of the community home near Chicago. I was barely standing at that point, finding it hard to maintain my own balance. I was still leaning on Ravyn, who was grunting under the combined strain of supporting my weight and managing the complexc task of making sure we arrived safely.
“Hey, I have rather fond memories of this place.”
“Keep it up, buster, and you’ll be crawling your way home!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We hurriedly stumbled into the house, gathered up the duffle bag full of cash, and made our way to the basement without much notice. We stepped into a dark room, where we hoped that my own powers over the Shadow were put to the test.
Luckily, Drake hadn’t been able to drain those abilities from me completely before Herlinda had stopped him, so I was able to muster enough strength to take us to the place where I had hidden the cannisters and then take us to Jim’s place before collapsing.
I regained cosnciousness to find the Frau tut-tutting over me as she was pulling the broken pieces of Drake’s blade from my gut, all the while listening to Ravyn’s tale of the events at the Faire.
Jim, Cerrydwen, and Herne were all there listening in as well, all of them were also watching Frau’s less than delicate surgery on my gut with keen interest.
When she noticed that I had come around again, Frau chuckled and added a little humor to the event, “Ah yes, it looks like our patient has rejoined us in the Land of the Living. You let me know if any of this hurts now, OK?”
“Very funny, Frau. How bad is the damage?”
“Oh, he cut into you pretty deep there, Rusty, but I really have no idea how much of this stuff in here is essential to your functioning. You are, however, the first patient I’ve worked on who didn’t need any anesthetic.”
Jim’s face hovered into view, looking more than a little green. His nose was also scrunched up. “Rusty, do you really think it was a good idea to go confront Drake without letting us know what was going on? You have other responsibilities now, you can’t just go galivanting off without a plan.”
“Hey, I had a plan...it just didn’t work as well I thought it would. Besides, I asked Ravyn to go along!”
Ravyn’s smoke smudged face quickly poked into my view. She was wagging her finger in that way of hers. “It was all your idea, bub. I went along to save your bacon, as usual. Don’t even try to say that I sanctioned this adventure of yours!”
To be continued...
First, we landed at the stone circle outside of the community home near Chicago. I was barely standing at that point, finding it hard to maintain my own balance. I was still leaning on Ravyn, who was grunting under the combined strain of supporting my weight and managing the complexc task of making sure we arrived safely.
“Hey, I have rather fond memories of this place.”
“Keep it up, buster, and you’ll be crawling your way home!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We hurriedly stumbled into the house, gathered up the duffle bag full of cash, and made our way to the basement without much notice. We stepped into a dark room, where we hoped that my own powers over the Shadow were put to the test.
Luckily, Drake hadn’t been able to drain those abilities from me completely before Herlinda had stopped him, so I was able to muster enough strength to take us to the place where I had hidden the cannisters and then take us to Jim’s place before collapsing.
I regained cosnciousness to find the Frau tut-tutting over me as she was pulling the broken pieces of Drake’s blade from my gut, all the while listening to Ravyn’s tale of the events at the Faire.
Jim, Cerrydwen, and Herne were all there listening in as well, all of them were also watching Frau’s less than delicate surgery on my gut with keen interest.
When she noticed that I had come around again, Frau chuckled and added a little humor to the event, “Ah yes, it looks like our patient has rejoined us in the Land of the Living. You let me know if any of this hurts now, OK?”
“Very funny, Frau. How bad is the damage?”
“Oh, he cut into you pretty deep there, Rusty, but I really have no idea how much of this stuff in here is essential to your functioning. You are, however, the first patient I’ve worked on who didn’t need any anesthetic.”
Jim’s face hovered into view, looking more than a little green. His nose was also scrunched up. “Rusty, do you really think it was a good idea to go confront Drake without letting us know what was going on? You have other responsibilities now, you can’t just go galivanting off without a plan.”
“Hey, I had a plan...it just didn’t work as well I thought it would. Besides, I asked Ravyn to go along!”
Ravyn’s smoke smudged face quickly poked into my view. She was wagging her finger in that way of hers. “It was all your idea, bub. I went along to save your bacon, as usual. Don’t even try to say that I sanctioned this adventure of yours!”
To be continued...
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Showdown at the OK Corral...Epilogue
The following passages are excerpts from an article I found on the ‘Showdown Incident’ from the September 12, 2005 MichiWire News Service:
HOLLY-A spokeswoman for the Michigan Renaissance Festival released a statement this morning denying responsibility for a particularly dangerous pyrotechnic display that took place yesterday afternoon. The statement reads in part: “The Michigan Renaissance Festival takes great pride in offering great family entertainment in a safe atmosphere. Management of the Festival did not plan for, nor participate in any way in the dangerous pyrotechnic display that took place on Sunday, September 11, 2006. The actors in that event were not employees of the Festival, nor were their actions in any way sanctioned by the Festival.” The statement did not elaborate on the incidnet itself, however dozens of eyewitnesses reported watching what they believed was a sanctioned performance when two men apparently began to duel near the jousting field of the event.
The duel, however, began only after the actors managed to create the illusion of a large black dragon. Spectators report that this illusory dragon was defeated in battle by a great bird of fire, presumably the legendary Phoenix. While the mythical creatures were illusory, the unknown band of actors did employ prodigious amounts of pyrotechnic fireworks that led to a number of the participants, as well as three bystanders, being injured in the display.
The Holly Fire Department was called upon to put out the fires caused by the incident. Holly Fire Chief Jack Denson provided the following brief statement when asked by this reporter: “People really should learn to respect the danger that such powerful fireworks pose to innocent bystanders. I really hope that the lawmakers in Lansing will rise to the occasion and will make it harder for people to get ahold of these things.” He also reported that nearly a dozen of the alleged perpetrators were transported to the University of Michigan Burn Center in Ann Arbor for treatment for injuries that ranged from 2nd degree burns and broken bones to in one case a man suffering 3rd degree burns over 40% of his body. Those suspects not still at the Burn Center as of this morning are undxergoing questioning by detectives of the Oakland County Sheriff’s Department. The investigating deputies have also recovered several clues from the scene and are running forensic tests on those items, including the remains of what appears to be two of the swords involved in the duel. Deputies refused to disclose the details of the other items recovered, indicating that the investigation remained open. Several of the main actors in the stunt appear to have left the scene prior the arrival of the authorities and remain at large.
The injuries to the three bystanders were all minor, including cuts and abrasions with some minor first degree burns.
Witnesses relate that damages to the Festival itself are minor, comprising solely of a destroyed fence around the jousting arena and several small trees. The Festival spokeswoman indicated that all damages would be repaired this week and that the Festival would be open for business as usual for next weekend. She did indicate that festival-goers will have to submit to additional searches at the entrance when the Festival reopens, but that such searches would result in increased security for the benefit of all participants. She also related that the ban on customers bringing their own weapons such as swords and knives, will be strictly enforced.
Despite the out of control fireworks, most eyewitnesses claimed that the stunt was the best event of the day, one woman exclaimed, “It was like being there in the middle of movie like Lord of the Rings or Star Wars, that was so cool. I can’t wait to see what happens next week!”
HOLLY-A spokeswoman for the Michigan Renaissance Festival released a statement this morning denying responsibility for a particularly dangerous pyrotechnic display that took place yesterday afternoon. The statement reads in part: “The Michigan Renaissance Festival takes great pride in offering great family entertainment in a safe atmosphere. Management of the Festival did not plan for, nor participate in any way in the dangerous pyrotechnic display that took place on Sunday, September 11, 2006. The actors in that event were not employees of the Festival, nor were their actions in any way sanctioned by the Festival.” The statement did not elaborate on the incidnet itself, however dozens of eyewitnesses reported watching what they believed was a sanctioned performance when two men apparently began to duel near the jousting field of the event.
The duel, however, began only after the actors managed to create the illusion of a large black dragon. Spectators report that this illusory dragon was defeated in battle by a great bird of fire, presumably the legendary Phoenix. While the mythical creatures were illusory, the unknown band of actors did employ prodigious amounts of pyrotechnic fireworks that led to a number of the participants, as well as three bystanders, being injured in the display.
The Holly Fire Department was called upon to put out the fires caused by the incident. Holly Fire Chief Jack Denson provided the following brief statement when asked by this reporter: “People really should learn to respect the danger that such powerful fireworks pose to innocent bystanders. I really hope that the lawmakers in Lansing will rise to the occasion and will make it harder for people to get ahold of these things.” He also reported that nearly a dozen of the alleged perpetrators were transported to the University of Michigan Burn Center in Ann Arbor for treatment for injuries that ranged from 2nd degree burns and broken bones to in one case a man suffering 3rd degree burns over 40% of his body. Those suspects not still at the Burn Center as of this morning are undxergoing questioning by detectives of the Oakland County Sheriff’s Department. The investigating deputies have also recovered several clues from the scene and are running forensic tests on those items, including the remains of what appears to be two of the swords involved in the duel. Deputies refused to disclose the details of the other items recovered, indicating that the investigation remained open. Several of the main actors in the stunt appear to have left the scene prior the arrival of the authorities and remain at large.
The injuries to the three bystanders were all minor, including cuts and abrasions with some minor first degree burns.
Witnesses relate that damages to the Festival itself are minor, comprising solely of a destroyed fence around the jousting arena and several small trees. The Festival spokeswoman indicated that all damages would be repaired this week and that the Festival would be open for business as usual for next weekend. She did indicate that festival-goers will have to submit to additional searches at the entrance when the Festival reopens, but that such searches would result in increased security for the benefit of all participants. She also related that the ban on customers bringing their own weapons such as swords and knives, will be strictly enforced.
Despite the out of control fireworks, most eyewitnesses claimed that the stunt was the best event of the day, one woman exclaimed, “It was like being there in the middle of movie like Lord of the Rings or Star Wars, that was so cool. I can’t wait to see what happens next week!”
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Showdown at the OK Corral...Finale
By 2:30 we were on our third circuit of the fair grounds. Between us, we identified at least twenty possible goons in waiting, often hanging around in pairs. Since it was a Sunday, and they were apparently trying to blend in the general population of tourists, the chosen style of dress was pure goon casual--polo shirts, khaki colored pants and loafers--while they ‘concealed’ their weapons within the ubiquitous rip-away type fanny packs so common with law enforcement types.
There were also several Casters in the crowd, although neither Ravyn or I recognized any of them either from the ORC’s or from previous encounters with Drake’s henchmen, so it was impossible to tell if they were here on Drake’s behalf or just enjoying the festival itself. Until one or more of them showed themselves as a threat, we decided to leave those folks out of the equation.
As the sun moved closer to it’s 3 o’clock position, we parted company as we left a small jewelry shop and took different routes to head towards the jousting field. Sauntering through the still vibrant crowds as they streamed away from a just completed jousting match, I noticed a few of the goon contingents subtly shifting into positions around the emptying area.
A single dark figure stood near the wood fence separating the main thoroughfare from the field where the jousters had so recently been demonstrating their skills. His back was to me, as leaned with his arms crossed on the top bar of the fence, his left foot propped up on a bale of hay, completely at leisure, seemingly lost in thought.
Seeing Drake again actually sent a shiver through my Spirit. This was the first time we had come face to face since we had battled in the Everglades. His pale skin contrasted all the more with his black shirt and pants. His dark hair was slicked back into a small pony tail, the first time I can remember seeing him with longer hair.
As interesting as it was to see Drake again, however, something drew my eyes even more than he did, something that emanated a sense of Power unlike anything I had only ever felt with Witchbane Blades. Leaning up against the fence next to him was a tall, thick cane that was topped with a dragon’s head. The shaft of the cane was made of some strange, light absorbing material that was not quite wood and not quite stone, but something unbelievably ancient nonetheless. The dragon’s head at the top of the cane was made of ethereal silver metal that reflected light. The eyes of the dragon were rubies that shone with a fire all their own. Just below the dragon’s head the mounting brace could easily have doubled as a...hilt....as I looked at it, I could just sense that the shaft was actually a sheath for a blade of some sort.
Determined not to show any hesitation that might be construed as fear, I sauntered up to the fence next to him, leaning my own considerable weight on it.
We sat there for several moments watching the stablehands take care of the horses at the far end of the field, neither of us willing to break the uneasy silence.
“You understand, Bones, that I will have what is rightfully mine, don’t you?”
“Why are they so important to you, Drake?”
“That’s none of your business. The only thing you need to know is that they belong to me and that I will stop at nothing to get them back.”
“Funny, they were fairly easy to acquire, are you telling me that Daniel truly had you over the barrel over these things?”
“Bernstein was a close associate of mine, Bones. We worked together for a number of years. I never saw the hidden strength he had developed until it was too late. Your reckless and needless assault on my organization ruined a number of plans. Surely you didn’t drag me to this pageant of fools to trade banter with me. What do you want for the cannisters?”
“I’m not entirely sure that I will give them up to you yet, Drake. First of all, I’m not giving you a God-damned thing until I know what it is. Second, I have very little faith that you will actually live up to any agreement we make in regards to these items. If I give them to you, what will keep you to your word? Finally, as you can probably tell, I’ve changed a lot since our last meeting, but one thing hasn’t changed, and that is my burning desire to destroy you.”
“If you wish to slay me so badly, why are you waiting? You and I are both here, just the two of us. If you think you are ready, you will not get another chance so easily.”
“Well, I’d rather not risk hurting any innocents, and besides, as long as I have your precious containers, I know you’ll come to me whenever I desire.”
He looked over at me for the first time. His soulless eyes burrowing deep into my own. “Bones, don’t be such a fool. This is your last chance to agree to turn over to me what is mine, or I will unleash a terrible war upon you and all that you hold dear that will leave everything and everyone you have ever loved in smoking ruins. So I ask you one last time, what do you want for these containers?”
A shadow fell over us as his words finished. I didn’t think much of it at first, until I felt a strange tingling deep inside, like a part of me recognized something was coming...
“RUSTY!!! WATCH OUT!!!”
With Ravyn’s shout, and the excited screams of dozens of nearby folks, I swung around just in time to see that shadow coalesce into a tall dragon like form that towered over us, it’s black scales solidifying into a glistening black metal as I looked on stunned. Drake was no longer next to me, but had somehow slipped behind the 30’ long, 15’ tall creature.
It’s head was nearly as large as I was, its mouth was agape, it’s ivory colored fangs dripping a liquid that left smoking holes in everything that it dripped on.
Time slowed in those fleeting few moments...I was fumbling to draw Herlinda and Diego from their sheaths...I saw Ravyn throwing a bolt of fire that easily outdid anything else I had ever seen her throw right at the back of the beast’s head, but even that fire seemed to move in slow motion...As the fire was lancing out towards the creature, a stream of it’s thick acid was heading towards me...People all around were screaming in fear and panic while two dozen goons were moving in towards us, many towards Ravyn, now revealed...A piercing cry from above told me that Betsy was entering the fray...
In the instant before the stream of acid reached me, I instinctively grabbed Shadow and wrapped myself in its cocoon, transporting myself to a position right behind the smiling Drake.
Both blades came free just as I emerged from the Shadow, Diego practically dancing in my fingers for a chance to get at the man responsible for his centuries of imprisonment...
The blast of intense fire struck the dragon in the head, sending the beast reeling forward and roaring in pain as it crashed writhing and twitching into the now smoking remains of the fence...
Drake had sensed my move and was whirling even as I was trying to plunge both blades into his back, in one practiced motion, he parried both blades with that cane he had been carrying, sending me staggering past as he drew the blade portion in his second movement, leaving him holding the wicked looking, razor thin blade in one hand, the solid black sheath in another...
As I regained my balance and swung around to face my arch nemesis, I had one quick glance of Ravyn raising a ring of fire around her as a half dozen burly goons tried to close in on her. They leaped back with cries of pain...
Drake took that opportunity to feint with the blade and lash out with the sheath in an attempt to knock Herlinda from my left hand. The crushing blow would have shattered the bones of a normal person, but it only pushed that hand down momentarily. It was almost enough for him to slip his blade into my chest. He was as lightning fast as I remembered, but this time, Diego was faster, as he crashed the blade away with a ringing parry...
We circled after that exchange, giving me a ringside seat to witness a blazing phoenix crash down on the head of the dragon as it tried to rise, Betsy’s talons, beak and blazing feathers creating a flurry of attacks that the still dazed dragon was unable to stop...
Drake launched another flurry of blows with his blade and sheath, each of which was just barely parried or dodged as I struggled to counter his greater skill, reach and speed...
We continued to circle, with him pushing the fight onto me. My glances of Ravyn, the dragon and and the phoenix, the goons, and the growing crowd of wildly cheering Faire-goers were getting fewer and fewer as I spent more and more energy trying to defend myself by the determined blows of Drake...
I did manage to see Ravyn get saved by ‘Bob’ as he crashed into a particularly large goon who had come up from behind her as she faced down two others. His dive into the poor bastards’ gut was strong enough to lift him off of his feet and throw him past the row of spectators that had formed around that fray...
Drake seemed to get both faster and stronger as the fight went on. He was smiling the entire time, though he remained blissfully silent as he obviously enjoyed watching me struggle to fend of his blows. Luckily, I wasn’t going to tire either.
Diego hated to be forced into defense. He tried to guide my hand into lashing out at Drake, but Drake was too fast, batting aside the thrusts with ease with his longer, more agile blade.
Drake smiled as we exchanged another series of blows. “Ah yes, I remember these blades. They served their purpose, but I have a better weapon now.”
I barely turned his latest thrust, but used my momentum to spin and land what felt like a glancing blow with Herlinda’s hilt on Drake’s head...he stumbled, off balance for the first time in my memory...I continued my spin, bringing Diego down for a killing thrust, only to be deflected by a wild bat with the sheath as Drake tumbled into a better defensive position.
I was shocked to see blood trickling down Drake’s high cheek bone. It was my turn to smile. “You’re getting cocky Drake, these blades remember you as well, they are sworn to take but one more soul with them...yours!”
Seeking to press an advantage, I waded in on the attack. Another flurry of blows, this time with Drake backing down, circling to his left...
A flash of flame signalled the end of the struggle between legendary creatures as Betsy rose in triumphant flame crowing her victory, though not without cost as large portions of her feather plume and one taloned foot were missing, victims of the acid of the dragon...
Drake brushed the trickle of blood from his cheek with the back of his sheath hand, glanced at the blood smear and smiled up at me. “I’m impressed Bones, it has been many decades since I’ve seen my own blood. You have grown in ways I could not have imagined even a year ago. But you still have much to learn.”
With that he began a swirling, darting series of attacks that pushed me back. I was whacked several times by the sheath before I could see the pattern of his attack, but just as I shifted to adjust to that pattern, the blade became harder to see until his flurry of attacks ended with his blade thrusting into my gut, sinking a third of the way up my gut...
Lancing, shooting, wracking pain laced through my very being, pain like I hadn’t felt since the merge with the remnants of Ma Grendel. For the briefest of moments, the whispers deep inside me shrieked in glee and in release before I felt a sucking sensation through the wound and into the blade.
I looked up to see Ravyn’s flames dying down as she had driven back the last of Drake’s goon squad, her face bloodied and bruised, her eyes flashing anger and then concern as she saw what was happening to me.
“Rusty!!!”
I stood there for the briefest of moments, unable to free myself from the blade as the darkness inside seemed to stream down the blade and into Drake. Drake’s smile grew colder, more evil, as he appeared to drink in my very essence...
Herlinda stirred in my hand, driving me to strike down at the base of Drake’s blade with her own blade. The force of the blow as the longer, slimmer blade was trapped by my own body and the armor that I wore caused both blades to shatter, creating a blast of released energies that threw both Drake and I backwards ten feet each onto our backs...
The crowd gasped, then roared at the sheer spectacle of the battle. Somehow, they must have felt that the legendary beasts, the blasts of flame and acid, the epic battle of magickal blades and undead beings was a grand show put on for their benefit, a spectacle that surpassed any other show at the Faire.
Weakened by the loss of Spirit from that damnable blade of Drake’s and the loss of Herlinda, I struggled to sit back up. When I finally did, I saw Drake rise, dust himself off, and start to come toawrds me again, his tattered and blood drenched sword arm dangling uselessly at his side...
I managed to stagger back to my feet, Diego still in my other hand. The arm and hand that had held Herlinda also hung limp at my side. I could sense more than feel the gaping wound in my gut where the blade had exploded...
Ravyn was half running, half limping as she was forcing her way through the larger crowd around us...
Drake stopped three paces away, looked contempuously at the now useless sheath in his good arm, discarded it, then looked up at me, grinning strangely. “We are more alike than you will ever know, Rusty. We shall meet again soon to continue this discussion, but first I must test these new talents you have bequeathed to me...” His cackling laughter faded as he drew the Shadow about himself and disappeared...
“Holy fucking shit...” was all I managed to say as Ravyn stumbled over to me, her face mirroring my concern.
Ravyn reached into a pouch at her belt and pulled out a small ruby. “Let’s get out of here.” She crushed the stone and we disappeared in a flash of fire.
There were also several Casters in the crowd, although neither Ravyn or I recognized any of them either from the ORC’s or from previous encounters with Drake’s henchmen, so it was impossible to tell if they were here on Drake’s behalf or just enjoying the festival itself. Until one or more of them showed themselves as a threat, we decided to leave those folks out of the equation.
As the sun moved closer to it’s 3 o’clock position, we parted company as we left a small jewelry shop and took different routes to head towards the jousting field. Sauntering through the still vibrant crowds as they streamed away from a just completed jousting match, I noticed a few of the goon contingents subtly shifting into positions around the emptying area.
A single dark figure stood near the wood fence separating the main thoroughfare from the field where the jousters had so recently been demonstrating their skills. His back was to me, as leaned with his arms crossed on the top bar of the fence, his left foot propped up on a bale of hay, completely at leisure, seemingly lost in thought.
Seeing Drake again actually sent a shiver through my Spirit. This was the first time we had come face to face since we had battled in the Everglades. His pale skin contrasted all the more with his black shirt and pants. His dark hair was slicked back into a small pony tail, the first time I can remember seeing him with longer hair.
As interesting as it was to see Drake again, however, something drew my eyes even more than he did, something that emanated a sense of Power unlike anything I had only ever felt with Witchbane Blades. Leaning up against the fence next to him was a tall, thick cane that was topped with a dragon’s head. The shaft of the cane was made of some strange, light absorbing material that was not quite wood and not quite stone, but something unbelievably ancient nonetheless. The dragon’s head at the top of the cane was made of ethereal silver metal that reflected light. The eyes of the dragon were rubies that shone with a fire all their own. Just below the dragon’s head the mounting brace could easily have doubled as a...hilt....as I looked at it, I could just sense that the shaft was actually a sheath for a blade of some sort.
Determined not to show any hesitation that might be construed as fear, I sauntered up to the fence next to him, leaning my own considerable weight on it.
We sat there for several moments watching the stablehands take care of the horses at the far end of the field, neither of us willing to break the uneasy silence.
“You understand, Bones, that I will have what is rightfully mine, don’t you?”
“Why are they so important to you, Drake?”
“That’s none of your business. The only thing you need to know is that they belong to me and that I will stop at nothing to get them back.”
“Funny, they were fairly easy to acquire, are you telling me that Daniel truly had you over the barrel over these things?”
“Bernstein was a close associate of mine, Bones. We worked together for a number of years. I never saw the hidden strength he had developed until it was too late. Your reckless and needless assault on my organization ruined a number of plans. Surely you didn’t drag me to this pageant of fools to trade banter with me. What do you want for the cannisters?”
“I’m not entirely sure that I will give them up to you yet, Drake. First of all, I’m not giving you a God-damned thing until I know what it is. Second, I have very little faith that you will actually live up to any agreement we make in regards to these items. If I give them to you, what will keep you to your word? Finally, as you can probably tell, I’ve changed a lot since our last meeting, but one thing hasn’t changed, and that is my burning desire to destroy you.”
“If you wish to slay me so badly, why are you waiting? You and I are both here, just the two of us. If you think you are ready, you will not get another chance so easily.”
“Well, I’d rather not risk hurting any innocents, and besides, as long as I have your precious containers, I know you’ll come to me whenever I desire.”
He looked over at me for the first time. His soulless eyes burrowing deep into my own. “Bones, don’t be such a fool. This is your last chance to agree to turn over to me what is mine, or I will unleash a terrible war upon you and all that you hold dear that will leave everything and everyone you have ever loved in smoking ruins. So I ask you one last time, what do you want for these containers?”
A shadow fell over us as his words finished. I didn’t think much of it at first, until I felt a strange tingling deep inside, like a part of me recognized something was coming...
“RUSTY!!! WATCH OUT!!!”
With Ravyn’s shout, and the excited screams of dozens of nearby folks, I swung around just in time to see that shadow coalesce into a tall dragon like form that towered over us, it’s black scales solidifying into a glistening black metal as I looked on stunned. Drake was no longer next to me, but had somehow slipped behind the 30’ long, 15’ tall creature.
It’s head was nearly as large as I was, its mouth was agape, it’s ivory colored fangs dripping a liquid that left smoking holes in everything that it dripped on.
Time slowed in those fleeting few moments...I was fumbling to draw Herlinda and Diego from their sheaths...I saw Ravyn throwing a bolt of fire that easily outdid anything else I had ever seen her throw right at the back of the beast’s head, but even that fire seemed to move in slow motion...As the fire was lancing out towards the creature, a stream of it’s thick acid was heading towards me...People all around were screaming in fear and panic while two dozen goons were moving in towards us, many towards Ravyn, now revealed...A piercing cry from above told me that Betsy was entering the fray...
In the instant before the stream of acid reached me, I instinctively grabbed Shadow and wrapped myself in its cocoon, transporting myself to a position right behind the smiling Drake.
Both blades came free just as I emerged from the Shadow, Diego practically dancing in my fingers for a chance to get at the man responsible for his centuries of imprisonment...
The blast of intense fire struck the dragon in the head, sending the beast reeling forward and roaring in pain as it crashed writhing and twitching into the now smoking remains of the fence...
Drake had sensed my move and was whirling even as I was trying to plunge both blades into his back, in one practiced motion, he parried both blades with that cane he had been carrying, sending me staggering past as he drew the blade portion in his second movement, leaving him holding the wicked looking, razor thin blade in one hand, the solid black sheath in another...
As I regained my balance and swung around to face my arch nemesis, I had one quick glance of Ravyn raising a ring of fire around her as a half dozen burly goons tried to close in on her. They leaped back with cries of pain...
Drake took that opportunity to feint with the blade and lash out with the sheath in an attempt to knock Herlinda from my left hand. The crushing blow would have shattered the bones of a normal person, but it only pushed that hand down momentarily. It was almost enough for him to slip his blade into my chest. He was as lightning fast as I remembered, but this time, Diego was faster, as he crashed the blade away with a ringing parry...
We circled after that exchange, giving me a ringside seat to witness a blazing phoenix crash down on the head of the dragon as it tried to rise, Betsy’s talons, beak and blazing feathers creating a flurry of attacks that the still dazed dragon was unable to stop...
Drake launched another flurry of blows with his blade and sheath, each of which was just barely parried or dodged as I struggled to counter his greater skill, reach and speed...
We continued to circle, with him pushing the fight onto me. My glances of Ravyn, the dragon and and the phoenix, the goons, and the growing crowd of wildly cheering Faire-goers were getting fewer and fewer as I spent more and more energy trying to defend myself by the determined blows of Drake...
I did manage to see Ravyn get saved by ‘Bob’ as he crashed into a particularly large goon who had come up from behind her as she faced down two others. His dive into the poor bastards’ gut was strong enough to lift him off of his feet and throw him past the row of spectators that had formed around that fray...
Drake seemed to get both faster and stronger as the fight went on. He was smiling the entire time, though he remained blissfully silent as he obviously enjoyed watching me struggle to fend of his blows. Luckily, I wasn’t going to tire either.
Diego hated to be forced into defense. He tried to guide my hand into lashing out at Drake, but Drake was too fast, batting aside the thrusts with ease with his longer, more agile blade.
Drake smiled as we exchanged another series of blows. “Ah yes, I remember these blades. They served their purpose, but I have a better weapon now.”
I barely turned his latest thrust, but used my momentum to spin and land what felt like a glancing blow with Herlinda’s hilt on Drake’s head...he stumbled, off balance for the first time in my memory...I continued my spin, bringing Diego down for a killing thrust, only to be deflected by a wild bat with the sheath as Drake tumbled into a better defensive position.
I was shocked to see blood trickling down Drake’s high cheek bone. It was my turn to smile. “You’re getting cocky Drake, these blades remember you as well, they are sworn to take but one more soul with them...yours!”
Seeking to press an advantage, I waded in on the attack. Another flurry of blows, this time with Drake backing down, circling to his left...
A flash of flame signalled the end of the struggle between legendary creatures as Betsy rose in triumphant flame crowing her victory, though not without cost as large portions of her feather plume and one taloned foot were missing, victims of the acid of the dragon...
Drake brushed the trickle of blood from his cheek with the back of his sheath hand, glanced at the blood smear and smiled up at me. “I’m impressed Bones, it has been many decades since I’ve seen my own blood. You have grown in ways I could not have imagined even a year ago. But you still have much to learn.”
With that he began a swirling, darting series of attacks that pushed me back. I was whacked several times by the sheath before I could see the pattern of his attack, but just as I shifted to adjust to that pattern, the blade became harder to see until his flurry of attacks ended with his blade thrusting into my gut, sinking a third of the way up my gut...
Lancing, shooting, wracking pain laced through my very being, pain like I hadn’t felt since the merge with the remnants of Ma Grendel. For the briefest of moments, the whispers deep inside me shrieked in glee and in release before I felt a sucking sensation through the wound and into the blade.
I looked up to see Ravyn’s flames dying down as she had driven back the last of Drake’s goon squad, her face bloodied and bruised, her eyes flashing anger and then concern as she saw what was happening to me.
“Rusty!!!”
I stood there for the briefest of moments, unable to free myself from the blade as the darkness inside seemed to stream down the blade and into Drake. Drake’s smile grew colder, more evil, as he appeared to drink in my very essence...
Herlinda stirred in my hand, driving me to strike down at the base of Drake’s blade with her own blade. The force of the blow as the longer, slimmer blade was trapped by my own body and the armor that I wore caused both blades to shatter, creating a blast of released energies that threw both Drake and I backwards ten feet each onto our backs...
The crowd gasped, then roared at the sheer spectacle of the battle. Somehow, they must have felt that the legendary beasts, the blasts of flame and acid, the epic battle of magickal blades and undead beings was a grand show put on for their benefit, a spectacle that surpassed any other show at the Faire.
Weakened by the loss of Spirit from that damnable blade of Drake’s and the loss of Herlinda, I struggled to sit back up. When I finally did, I saw Drake rise, dust himself off, and start to come toawrds me again, his tattered and blood drenched sword arm dangling uselessly at his side...
I managed to stagger back to my feet, Diego still in my other hand. The arm and hand that had held Herlinda also hung limp at my side. I could sense more than feel the gaping wound in my gut where the blade had exploded...
Ravyn was half running, half limping as she was forcing her way through the larger crowd around us...
Drake stopped three paces away, looked contempuously at the now useless sheath in his good arm, discarded it, then looked up at me, grinning strangely. “We are more alike than you will ever know, Rusty. We shall meet again soon to continue this discussion, but first I must test these new talents you have bequeathed to me...” His cackling laughter faded as he drew the Shadow about himself and disappeared...
“Holy fucking shit...” was all I managed to say as Ravyn stumbled over to me, her face mirroring my concern.
Ravyn reached into a pouch at her belt and pulled out a small ruby. “Let’s get out of here.” She crushed the stone and we disappeared in a flash of fire.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Showdown at the OK Corral...Part 3
Dressed in Ravyn’s best attempt at a 2 hour Medieval-chic makeover, I felt like quite the Genghis Khan as I strode through the mid-September crowds near the entrance to the festival. as I stomped through the crowds glowering through my dark mask, I glimpsed flashes of Ravyn practically dancing among the throngs, sharing quick laughs and saucy smiles with the various male gawkers who enjoyed her low cut top and short, flouncy skirts.
She had chosen that outfit from among dozens of costumes she had at the community house precisely because it created such a contrast with the one she had chosen for me. When I commented that the outfit looked a little on the distracting side for the kind of meeting we were headed to, she flashed that devilish grin of her and retorted, “That’s why it’s such a good choice. Drake may not be so easily distracted, but the kind of men he employs are. If they are looking at my ‘assets’, they won’t consider me the threat that they ought to.”
“Well, I certainly won’t complain!”
She harrumphed a bit as she stepped behind the screen to change. I had shuffled off to make my own less spectacular transformation.
It was relatively easy for me to push my way through all of the people. One look at my menacing appearance first gave onlookers a pause, then caused them to stumble back a step as they took in the entire picture. I was taller than normal, between the tall, shiny black leather boots with a slight heel to them and black metal and leather helmet that came to a slight point. My long black cloak billowed out behind me in the breeze as I stalked through the grounds looking for any sign of Drake or his men. Over each shoulder, the hilts of Diego and Herlinda poked out from under the cloak, the leather straps that served as ‘peace bonds’ more for show than actually restraining me from drawing either blade. The studded leather breast plate and greaves added even more to my already formidable bulk. I clanked and creaked as I moved. Luckily, I didn’t have to worry about getting overheated or about sweating inside this get-up, and I was very glad to not have to smell the sweat of all of the previous wearers mixing with my own odors...there are advantages to being dead after all! The only way I knew it smelled was by watching Ravyns nose crinkle as she had set it out for me. All in all, I went from being a rough looking character to being a pure medieval badass.
Ravyn, on the other hand, had transformed from her normally modest and reserved looking self to a stunning vision in peasant wench-chic. From her gauzy white top that slipped off of shoulders, always seeming on the edge of revealing too much, to her short, layered skirts that came to just above her knees, her appearance just screamed ‘bawdy tavern-wench’.
So while we each drew attention as we walked about the festival leading up to our scheduled meeting with Drake, that attention actually worked to our advantage. Those men who didn’t back down from my menacing presence and challenging appraisal marked themselves as potential tough guys for further observation, while those men who didn’t trade flirty smiles with Ravyn were either also potential targets, or were just in view of jealous wives.
As we circled throughout the grounds of the Faire though, my mind was only half on the people around me. The rest of my consciousness was absorbed in playing out the phone conversation I had had with Drake to set this meeting up and how much things could go badly wrong with this whole encounter.
The conversation itself had been fairly short, but as always with Drake, had taken place on multiple levels, leaving so much open to speculation and interpretation:
The phone had only rung once before he answered, “Bernstein, you’d better have a good explanation for disappearing. You know you won’t be able to hide from me forever.” His voice was cold and hard, but with a slight edge of something else to it...desperation?
“Drake, Daniel’s a little busy at the moment, I thought I would speak to you on his behalf.”
There was just the smallest of pauses before he spoke again, with an almost imperceptible hitch to it. “Rusty, how nice of Bernstein to give you this number. What have you done to him?”
“I didn’t call you to talk about one of your former flunkies, Drake. We’ve got some things to discuss, face to face.”
I could almost sense his cold, evil smile through the phone. “You want to see me again. Ah, yes, I should like that very much. Shall we catch up on old times together? How’s your new daughter doing, by the way?”
“She’s one of the things we need to discuss, you bastard. But this time, I’m not the only one with family members to discuss.”
A longer pause this time. That smile was gone by the time he spoke again. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“Let’s just say that Daniel was playing some dangerous games of his own, one that I have ended prematurely. Those items he had been trying to blackmail you with are now solidly in my possession. I also rescued a relative of yours from a particularly nasty fate.”
“What have you done with those items?”
“I thought you would be more concerned about those than you would be about Zenni. She’ll be so very disappointed to hear that.”
His words were coming quickly now. “Bones, you have no idea what kind of danger you are putting those you love in by holding onto those containers. Are the seals still intact?!?!”
I couldn’t help but to pause a little in hearing his voice this strained. “Drake, somehow I don’t think you are all that concerned about my loved ones. I have the cannisters, they are still sealed-for the moment. We need to come to some form of...agreement...before I decide what to do with these things. So, we need to meet, face to face.”
“Will you be bringing the containers?”
“Sorry, but I’m no longer that naive. They are well guarded in a place I know you can’t reach, so if you ever want to see them again, you better be on your best damn behavior. Meet me this Sunday, at 3 PM at the Michigan Renaissance Festival near the jousting field. Just you and me, so keep your goons in check. Got it?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Oh, don’t even think of bringing El Diablito with you this time. The next time I see that little cripple, I’ll finish the job that was started in New Orleans.”
The phone went dead...
She had chosen that outfit from among dozens of costumes she had at the community house precisely because it created such a contrast with the one she had chosen for me. When I commented that the outfit looked a little on the distracting side for the kind of meeting we were headed to, she flashed that devilish grin of her and retorted, “That’s why it’s such a good choice. Drake may not be so easily distracted, but the kind of men he employs are. If they are looking at my ‘assets’, they won’t consider me the threat that they ought to.”
“Well, I certainly won’t complain!”
She harrumphed a bit as she stepped behind the screen to change. I had shuffled off to make my own less spectacular transformation.
It was relatively easy for me to push my way through all of the people. One look at my menacing appearance first gave onlookers a pause, then caused them to stumble back a step as they took in the entire picture. I was taller than normal, between the tall, shiny black leather boots with a slight heel to them and black metal and leather helmet that came to a slight point. My long black cloak billowed out behind me in the breeze as I stalked through the grounds looking for any sign of Drake or his men. Over each shoulder, the hilts of Diego and Herlinda poked out from under the cloak, the leather straps that served as ‘peace bonds’ more for show than actually restraining me from drawing either blade. The studded leather breast plate and greaves added even more to my already formidable bulk. I clanked and creaked as I moved. Luckily, I didn’t have to worry about getting overheated or about sweating inside this get-up, and I was very glad to not have to smell the sweat of all of the previous wearers mixing with my own odors...there are advantages to being dead after all! The only way I knew it smelled was by watching Ravyns nose crinkle as she had set it out for me. All in all, I went from being a rough looking character to being a pure medieval badass.
Ravyn, on the other hand, had transformed from her normally modest and reserved looking self to a stunning vision in peasant wench-chic. From her gauzy white top that slipped off of shoulders, always seeming on the edge of revealing too much, to her short, layered skirts that came to just above her knees, her appearance just screamed ‘bawdy tavern-wench’.
So while we each drew attention as we walked about the festival leading up to our scheduled meeting with Drake, that attention actually worked to our advantage. Those men who didn’t back down from my menacing presence and challenging appraisal marked themselves as potential tough guys for further observation, while those men who didn’t trade flirty smiles with Ravyn were either also potential targets, or were just in view of jealous wives.
As we circled throughout the grounds of the Faire though, my mind was only half on the people around me. The rest of my consciousness was absorbed in playing out the phone conversation I had had with Drake to set this meeting up and how much things could go badly wrong with this whole encounter.
The conversation itself had been fairly short, but as always with Drake, had taken place on multiple levels, leaving so much open to speculation and interpretation:
The phone had only rung once before he answered, “Bernstein, you’d better have a good explanation for disappearing. You know you won’t be able to hide from me forever.” His voice was cold and hard, but with a slight edge of something else to it...desperation?
“Drake, Daniel’s a little busy at the moment, I thought I would speak to you on his behalf.”
There was just the smallest of pauses before he spoke again, with an almost imperceptible hitch to it. “Rusty, how nice of Bernstein to give you this number. What have you done to him?”
“I didn’t call you to talk about one of your former flunkies, Drake. We’ve got some things to discuss, face to face.”
I could almost sense his cold, evil smile through the phone. “You want to see me again. Ah, yes, I should like that very much. Shall we catch up on old times together? How’s your new daughter doing, by the way?”
“She’s one of the things we need to discuss, you bastard. But this time, I’m not the only one with family members to discuss.”
A longer pause this time. That smile was gone by the time he spoke again. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“Let’s just say that Daniel was playing some dangerous games of his own, one that I have ended prematurely. Those items he had been trying to blackmail you with are now solidly in my possession. I also rescued a relative of yours from a particularly nasty fate.”
“What have you done with those items?”
“I thought you would be more concerned about those than you would be about Zenni. She’ll be so very disappointed to hear that.”
His words were coming quickly now. “Bones, you have no idea what kind of danger you are putting those you love in by holding onto those containers. Are the seals still intact?!?!”
I couldn’t help but to pause a little in hearing his voice this strained. “Drake, somehow I don’t think you are all that concerned about my loved ones. I have the cannisters, they are still sealed-for the moment. We need to come to some form of...agreement...before I decide what to do with these things. So, we need to meet, face to face.”
“Will you be bringing the containers?”
“Sorry, but I’m no longer that naive. They are well guarded in a place I know you can’t reach, so if you ever want to see them again, you better be on your best damn behavior. Meet me this Sunday, at 3 PM at the Michigan Renaissance Festival near the jousting field. Just you and me, so keep your goons in check. Got it?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Oh, don’t even think of bringing El Diablito with you this time. The next time I see that little cripple, I’ll finish the job that was started in New Orleans.”
The phone went dead...
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Showdown at the OK Corral...Part 2
It is not an easy thing to try and find a place to meet one’s arch enemy. It has to be somewhere public enough that neither party can rig the situation very easily, but it can’t be so public that your meeting will draw unwanted attention. Of course, it doesn’t much help when you are trying to set up such a meeting between a Herman Muenster/Frankenstein zombie and a vampiric looking bastard who is at least four thousand years old and travels with an entourage of thugs and goons that even Dick Cheney would envy-- the task becomes nigh impossible to manage.
Luckily, there is one place where this kind of freak show meeting could take place and be public enough to serve our needs, but in reality go unnoticed by the surrounding people...the Michigan Renaissance Festival in Holly--taking place just about every weekend in August and September.
One disadvantage of this choice of meeting places was when Ravyn clapped her hands together and exclaimed, “Oh goody- I have just the costume for you!” Remembering the Keith Richard’s like get-up that she and the Frau had trundled me into on our way to Vegas, I was more than a little leery. Once I saw the outfit though, my fears were slightly allayed-it was mostly black studded leather armor and boots, with a barbarian looking helmet to cover my rather ghoulish appearance. One major advantage of this outfit was that I would be able to wear the Witchbane blades of Diego and Herlinda out in plain view-they just had to be peace bonded, or at least APPEAR to be peace-bonded...
Another advantage, at least in mind, was that if the shit hit the fan at this place and Ravyn had to start throwing Fire, it would look like some sort of planned event that would really wow the crowd. But, I was sure hoping things wouldn’t go that wrong in the first place.
Drake was surprisingly amenable to a meeting, letting me name the place, date and time for our encounter. I was able to reach him by drawing upon one of Daniel’s rather recent memories of when he had called Drake up to plead for his life.
With Ravyn easily agreeing to watch my back, and Drake easily agreeing to my choices for the time, date and place of the meeting, it actually started to look like a plan was about to fall into place...
But, as I learned in the military, even the best laid plans last only until the first shot is fired...then all Hell breaks loose...
Luckily, there is one place where this kind of freak show meeting could take place and be public enough to serve our needs, but in reality go unnoticed by the surrounding people...the Michigan Renaissance Festival in Holly--taking place just about every weekend in August and September.
One disadvantage of this choice of meeting places was when Ravyn clapped her hands together and exclaimed, “Oh goody- I have just the costume for you!” Remembering the Keith Richard’s like get-up that she and the Frau had trundled me into on our way to Vegas, I was more than a little leery. Once I saw the outfit though, my fears were slightly allayed-it was mostly black studded leather armor and boots, with a barbarian looking helmet to cover my rather ghoulish appearance. One major advantage of this outfit was that I would be able to wear the Witchbane blades of Diego and Herlinda out in plain view-they just had to be peace bonded, or at least APPEAR to be peace-bonded...
Another advantage, at least in mind, was that if the shit hit the fan at this place and Ravyn had to start throwing Fire, it would look like some sort of planned event that would really wow the crowd. But, I was sure hoping things wouldn’t go that wrong in the first place.
Drake was surprisingly amenable to a meeting, letting me name the place, date and time for our encounter. I was able to reach him by drawing upon one of Daniel’s rather recent memories of when he had called Drake up to plead for his life.
With Ravyn easily agreeing to watch my back, and Drake easily agreeing to my choices for the time, date and place of the meeting, it actually started to look like a plan was about to fall into place...
But, as I learned in the military, even the best laid plans last only until the first shot is fired...then all Hell breaks loose...
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Showdown at the OK Corral...Part 1
I emerged from the Shadow in the small stone circle at the community house that Ravyn ran in the suburbs of Chicago. It was a dark night, so the transition had been exceptionally easy.
I was carrying the duffle bag that I had taken from that house in Jordan. It was still packed full, although the contents had been adjusted somewhat since I had left Jordan for the Merlin’s place in that other world with Zenni Al Farhan in my arms. I was returning alone, well, at least as far as any observer could tell anyway.
I made my way from the circle to the back door that I knew would be unlocked-- Ravyn wasn’t too worried about unwanted intruders-- plus this was a center of a lot of activity in any event.
I found Ravyn in the library that she had first brought me into more than 6 months ago. It was a comforting sight to see her relaxing on one of those enormous sofas reading a book. It was a rare thing to find her taking time for herself anymore.
There were a couple of other students in the room when I entered, but they quickly decided to seek their answers elsewhere when I entered the room. I moved to a sofa across from where she was stretched out and set the duffle bag down and took a seat.
Like a cat woken from a nap, she stretched and yawned as she put the book down and sat up, looking at me without speaking. Her eyes drank in all of the details of my appearance, like she could deduce where I had been and what I had been doing from the dust and dirt on my clothes.
We sat in silence for a few moments, before I finally spoke. “You look well rested. I take it the spa was good?”
She smiled, that kind of cat-that-caught-the-canary-grin, but as quick as it came, it disappeared behind a sterner look. “It was good. I finally feel like a human being again.”
“Glad to hear that.”
The pleasantries were over that quick. She turned all business. “It’s almost time for the Conclave, where have you been all of this time?”
I sighed. “Well, that’s a long story.”
“I’m ready to listen.”
I gave her a brief summary of the events that had taken place, starting with my meeting with the spirit of Alexa’s mother at Yggsdrasil and ending with the events of my last post. She sat silently through the story, her jaw tightening at various points when describing what had happened to Mrs. Al Farhan while in the custody of Daniel Bernstein.
When I finished, she stated, “I don’t know how I will be able to work with that man again. I can’t believe he had been so cruel to that woman.”
“He’s still here?”
She looked away in disgust. “Yes, he’s pretty much healed up from the physical wounds. I don’t think he has regained any of his memories that you took from him though. He has the mental maturity of a teen-ager, but the body of a middle aged man. He’s been helping out with some janitorial work and has been raiding the library here every night, taking book after book to read.”
“I can take him elsewhere if you would like.”
“We’ll see, Rusty. I hate what he did to that woman, but I know that we can’t let him go in good conscience. Who knows what Drake will do to him if he finds him. I doubt that Drake will believe that his memories are completely gone. I’m not even sure I believe it either.”
It was my turn to look away for a moment. But I looked back at her when she finished. “Speaking of Drake, I need a favor.”
Her eyes became suddenly fiery, flashing in anger. “What about him? What kind of favor?”
“I’m going to reach out to Drake. I need to make a deal with him.”
“What?!?!?! Have you gone insane????”
“I know. It sounds crazy, but it has to be done. I need to do it for Alexa’s sake.”
“How can you even think of dealing with that man again? Hasn’t he screwed with you and your family enough? How can you trust him to follow through on any agreement? And how can you expect any meeting not to be a trap?”
I leaned forward, patted the duffle bag at my feet. “I don’t trust that...man...at all. But I finally have some things that he wants, needs even, more than he wants to fuck with me and my family. I finally have some leverage and I intend to use it.”
“What was in those containers? Are you going to tell him about this Zenni woman as well? By the way, where is she?”
I smiled, sat back a little bit. I had left out the details as to what was in those containers. “Well, I can’t tell you everything just yet. But I can tell you that Mrs. Al Farhan is safe, she will not be part of any deal with Drake.”
“You’re damn right she won’t be!” Her anger was up again. As fast it rose, however, it cooled down again. “So what exactly is this favor you want from me?”
It was right as that question came out that the other entity with me chose that moment to grow restless. The duffle bag gave off a puff of thick dust as it shifted inside. A muffled squeak from inside accompanied the movement, causing Ravyn to just about jump out of her skin.
“What did you bring with you in there?” Her bare feet had been pulled back from the now rustling bag, up onto the sofa with the rest of her, but her right hand was extended in a familiar gesture that I knew meant that she was ready to ‘throw fire’.
I held out my hand. “Wait a minute. It’s nothing bad. I brought someone for you to meet.”
“You have someone in that bag?”
“Yes, his name is Bobinaximantheral, Bob for short.” I was reaching down slowly to loose the clasp on the bag. “He’s a little impatient, he’s a youngling among his kind, and was very curious to meet you.”
I opened the bag and a bright light spilled forth as ‘Bob’ leaped out into the air, spinning and circling happily as he squeaked in joy at being let loose from that dark, nasty bag.
Ravyn’s shriek of surprise turned into a cry of joy. “Rusty, you remembered!”
The Orb known as ‘Bob’ continued to circle around her head. It was obvious that he enjoyed her as much as she would enjoy being around him.
“Like I was saying, his name is Bob. He’s young for his kind, I think he’s only a thousand of our years old, and he’s been very eager to meet the ‘Fire Lady’ I had been telling him about while I was at the Merlin’s. He would like to know if he can stay with you for a while and experience our world...which I knew you’d be more than willing to accommodate.”
If she was hearing anything I was saying, I couldn’t be sure. She was entranced with him. She reached out one hand into the air. Bob slowed down and floated near it. He seemed to get slightly brighter as he approached her fingers, almost like he was a pet, sniffing to see if she was ‘ok’.
When he touched her, she didn’t flinch. Her eyes were transfixed on the softly glowing orb that was actually a living being. “He’s so warm to the touch!”
Soft cooing sounds were coming from the pair as they examined each other. I couldn’t tell if it was her or him.
Bob floated downward along her arm. I could see goose pimples raise on her arm is he came down and floated in front of her eyes. She reached out with both hands, gingerly touching him on opposite sides. They seemed to be communicating on a number of levels.
After a few moments she nodded and pulled her hands away, he bobbed in the air and zipped up towards the ceiling rafters of the library.
I watched him settle up in the shadows above, dimming as he did so to the approximate brightness of a candle, he was probably recharging a bit after the excitement. I was just about to close the duffle bag back up when Ravyn bounded off of her sofa and wrapped me in one of her trademark bear hugs.
“Thank you.” She whispered, sounding like she was choking up a bit. “You have just made me very happy!”
As she let me go and settled back onto the sofa, I closed up the bag to keep anything else from spilling out. “I’m glad to hear that. Now, about that favor I need from you...”
I had to duck a flung cushion....
I was carrying the duffle bag that I had taken from that house in Jordan. It was still packed full, although the contents had been adjusted somewhat since I had left Jordan for the Merlin’s place in that other world with Zenni Al Farhan in my arms. I was returning alone, well, at least as far as any observer could tell anyway.
I made my way from the circle to the back door that I knew would be unlocked-- Ravyn wasn’t too worried about unwanted intruders-- plus this was a center of a lot of activity in any event.
I found Ravyn in the library that she had first brought me into more than 6 months ago. It was a comforting sight to see her relaxing on one of those enormous sofas reading a book. It was a rare thing to find her taking time for herself anymore.
There were a couple of other students in the room when I entered, but they quickly decided to seek their answers elsewhere when I entered the room. I moved to a sofa across from where she was stretched out and set the duffle bag down and took a seat.
Like a cat woken from a nap, she stretched and yawned as she put the book down and sat up, looking at me without speaking. Her eyes drank in all of the details of my appearance, like she could deduce where I had been and what I had been doing from the dust and dirt on my clothes.
We sat in silence for a few moments, before I finally spoke. “You look well rested. I take it the spa was good?”
She smiled, that kind of cat-that-caught-the-canary-grin, but as quick as it came, it disappeared behind a sterner look. “It was good. I finally feel like a human being again.”
“Glad to hear that.”
The pleasantries were over that quick. She turned all business. “It’s almost time for the Conclave, where have you been all of this time?”
I sighed. “Well, that’s a long story.”
“I’m ready to listen.”
I gave her a brief summary of the events that had taken place, starting with my meeting with the spirit of Alexa’s mother at Yggsdrasil and ending with the events of my last post. She sat silently through the story, her jaw tightening at various points when describing what had happened to Mrs. Al Farhan while in the custody of Daniel Bernstein.
When I finished, she stated, “I don’t know how I will be able to work with that man again. I can’t believe he had been so cruel to that woman.”
“He’s still here?”
She looked away in disgust. “Yes, he’s pretty much healed up from the physical wounds. I don’t think he has regained any of his memories that you took from him though. He has the mental maturity of a teen-ager, but the body of a middle aged man. He’s been helping out with some janitorial work and has been raiding the library here every night, taking book after book to read.”
“I can take him elsewhere if you would like.”
“We’ll see, Rusty. I hate what he did to that woman, but I know that we can’t let him go in good conscience. Who knows what Drake will do to him if he finds him. I doubt that Drake will believe that his memories are completely gone. I’m not even sure I believe it either.”
It was my turn to look away for a moment. But I looked back at her when she finished. “Speaking of Drake, I need a favor.”
Her eyes became suddenly fiery, flashing in anger. “What about him? What kind of favor?”
“I’m going to reach out to Drake. I need to make a deal with him.”
“What?!?!?! Have you gone insane????”
“I know. It sounds crazy, but it has to be done. I need to do it for Alexa’s sake.”
“How can you even think of dealing with that man again? Hasn’t he screwed with you and your family enough? How can you trust him to follow through on any agreement? And how can you expect any meeting not to be a trap?”
I leaned forward, patted the duffle bag at my feet. “I don’t trust that...man...at all. But I finally have some things that he wants, needs even, more than he wants to fuck with me and my family. I finally have some leverage and I intend to use it.”
“What was in those containers? Are you going to tell him about this Zenni woman as well? By the way, where is she?”
I smiled, sat back a little bit. I had left out the details as to what was in those containers. “Well, I can’t tell you everything just yet. But I can tell you that Mrs. Al Farhan is safe, she will not be part of any deal with Drake.”
“You’re damn right she won’t be!” Her anger was up again. As fast it rose, however, it cooled down again. “So what exactly is this favor you want from me?”
It was right as that question came out that the other entity with me chose that moment to grow restless. The duffle bag gave off a puff of thick dust as it shifted inside. A muffled squeak from inside accompanied the movement, causing Ravyn to just about jump out of her skin.
“What did you bring with you in there?” Her bare feet had been pulled back from the now rustling bag, up onto the sofa with the rest of her, but her right hand was extended in a familiar gesture that I knew meant that she was ready to ‘throw fire’.
I held out my hand. “Wait a minute. It’s nothing bad. I brought someone for you to meet.”
“You have someone in that bag?”
“Yes, his name is Bobinaximantheral, Bob for short.” I was reaching down slowly to loose the clasp on the bag. “He’s a little impatient, he’s a youngling among his kind, and was very curious to meet you.”
I opened the bag and a bright light spilled forth as ‘Bob’ leaped out into the air, spinning and circling happily as he squeaked in joy at being let loose from that dark, nasty bag.
Ravyn’s shriek of surprise turned into a cry of joy. “Rusty, you remembered!”
The Orb known as ‘Bob’ continued to circle around her head. It was obvious that he enjoyed her as much as she would enjoy being around him.
“Like I was saying, his name is Bob. He’s young for his kind, I think he’s only a thousand of our years old, and he’s been very eager to meet the ‘Fire Lady’ I had been telling him about while I was at the Merlin’s. He would like to know if he can stay with you for a while and experience our world...which I knew you’d be more than willing to accommodate.”
If she was hearing anything I was saying, I couldn’t be sure. She was entranced with him. She reached out one hand into the air. Bob slowed down and floated near it. He seemed to get slightly brighter as he approached her fingers, almost like he was a pet, sniffing to see if she was ‘ok’.
When he touched her, she didn’t flinch. Her eyes were transfixed on the softly glowing orb that was actually a living being. “He’s so warm to the touch!”
Soft cooing sounds were coming from the pair as they examined each other. I couldn’t tell if it was her or him.
Bob floated downward along her arm. I could see goose pimples raise on her arm is he came down and floated in front of her eyes. She reached out with both hands, gingerly touching him on opposite sides. They seemed to be communicating on a number of levels.
After a few moments she nodded and pulled her hands away, he bobbed in the air and zipped up towards the ceiling rafters of the library.
I watched him settle up in the shadows above, dimming as he did so to the approximate brightness of a candle, he was probably recharging a bit after the excitement. I was just about to close the duffle bag back up when Ravyn bounded off of her sofa and wrapped me in one of her trademark bear hugs.
“Thank you.” She whispered, sounding like she was choking up a bit. “You have just made me very happy!”
As she let me go and settled back onto the sofa, I closed up the bag to keep anything else from spilling out. “I’m glad to hear that. Now, about that favor I need from you...”
I had to duck a flung cushion....
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Decisions, Decisions...
We sat there for a few moments in silence.
“What if I were to take you back to your family in Iraq? Those thugs won’t be after you anymore and Dr. Bernstein will no longer have any interest in you, that I can guarantee.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, streaked down her dirt-smeared cheeks. She looked down at the ground, sobbing, before she gained the strength to speak again. “I...I...I wish that were possible. But those evil men killed my husband and the members of his family that we were staying with after the war.”
I wanted to reach out and offer some form of human comfort, but something stopped me. Instead, I asked, “What about other family members, perhaps any adult children, cousins, your side of the family?”
She looked back up at me, shoulders still wracked with sobs. “I have no children. I have never been able to have any. No, I have no one else left in Iraq. Because of my ties to the former regime, I have enemies who will be glad to make an example of me. My parents died in the Iran/Iraq war. I was an only child, so I have no brothers or sisters. The only living relative I have...is your mortal enemy.”
“Damn, I was afraid of that.”
My choices were not very good. I could take her back to Ravyn’s farm, but there were a great number of problems with that. First, she would come face to face with Daniel again and there was no way of telling what would happen with that! Second, she still had some reasons to hold tight to her loyalty to Drake, so that could be like inviting the fox into the chicken coop. Finally, how happy would Ravyn be with another injured foundling dropped off at her doorstep?
So, taking her to Ravyn’s was pretty much out of the question. I certainly couldn’t leave her here in this place and I couldn’t kill her, it’s just not in my nature to do so.
I ran through all of the other options I could come up with on short notice...
The Professor was taking care of Alexa, so I couldn’t take her there...
The Frau and Cerrydwen were helping the Professor, so they were out...
Everyone else I knew in the ORC’s would be in danger if I left her with them, given Drake’s talent at finding out things you didn’t want him to know...
I couldn’t turn her over to the government, they would see her past involvement in the Baath party and her service in the Mukhbarat as potential threats and probably send her off to Gitmo...
I certainly couldn’t turn her over Drake, even if I could locate him, after using her Talent on me, she knew too many secrets that I didn’t want him to know, and I certainly wasn’t going to turn over this money or these artifacts him either...
She needed to have a chance to heal up, to recover from her wounds and her losses while also being beyond the reach of Drake.
So, after looking at and discarding all of these other options, I decided that it was time to take her on a visit to a place I had been taken when I needed a chance to heal...to the Merlin, if he would take her...
“What if I were to take you back to your family in Iraq? Those thugs won’t be after you anymore and Dr. Bernstein will no longer have any interest in you, that I can guarantee.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, streaked down her dirt-smeared cheeks. She looked down at the ground, sobbing, before she gained the strength to speak again. “I...I...I wish that were possible. But those evil men killed my husband and the members of his family that we were staying with after the war.”
I wanted to reach out and offer some form of human comfort, but something stopped me. Instead, I asked, “What about other family members, perhaps any adult children, cousins, your side of the family?”
She looked back up at me, shoulders still wracked with sobs. “I have no children. I have never been able to have any. No, I have no one else left in Iraq. Because of my ties to the former regime, I have enemies who will be glad to make an example of me. My parents died in the Iran/Iraq war. I was an only child, so I have no brothers or sisters. The only living relative I have...is your mortal enemy.”
“Damn, I was afraid of that.”
My choices were not very good. I could take her back to Ravyn’s farm, but there were a great number of problems with that. First, she would come face to face with Daniel again and there was no way of telling what would happen with that! Second, she still had some reasons to hold tight to her loyalty to Drake, so that could be like inviting the fox into the chicken coop. Finally, how happy would Ravyn be with another injured foundling dropped off at her doorstep?
So, taking her to Ravyn’s was pretty much out of the question. I certainly couldn’t leave her here in this place and I couldn’t kill her, it’s just not in my nature to do so.
I ran through all of the other options I could come up with on short notice...
The Professor was taking care of Alexa, so I couldn’t take her there...
The Frau and Cerrydwen were helping the Professor, so they were out...
Everyone else I knew in the ORC’s would be in danger if I left her with them, given Drake’s talent at finding out things you didn’t want him to know...
I couldn’t turn her over to the government, they would see her past involvement in the Baath party and her service in the Mukhbarat as potential threats and probably send her off to Gitmo...
I certainly couldn’t turn her over Drake, even if I could locate him, after using her Talent on me, she knew too many secrets that I didn’t want him to know, and I certainly wasn’t going to turn over this money or these artifacts him either...
She needed to have a chance to heal up, to recover from her wounds and her losses while also being beyond the reach of Drake.
So, after looking at and discarding all of these other options, I decided that it was time to take her on a visit to a place I had been taken when I needed a chance to heal...to the Merlin, if he would take her...
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