I told the story of Drake’s fall and the ring that he virtually dropped into my hand with little emotion. That style became impossible, however, when I came to describing the Lady and her domain as I saw and all of the events that arose from my meeting with her.
Looking up from the floor as I finished describing the choice that was given to me, I noticed that there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. I quickly moved on to the release of Diego and the discovery of the strange new sword on the table. I finished by pulling the wrapped blade from my shoulder and drawing it out for everyone to see and touch as i passed it around for them to feel for themselves.
After everyone had marvelled at how plain Excalibur seemed at first glance, but how right it felt to the touch, I wrapped the blade back up and slung it over my back again. As long as that blade was out in the open though, no one could focus on anything else. Once it was put away, it was a like a spell had been broken, allowing us to move on.
Jim cleared his throat, sat forward and began speaking. “Well, I can cofirm some things from Daniel Bernstein’s lab. He did have boatloads of genetic data, including what appears to be a full work up on Drake’s DNA, and it does appear that Drake had engaged in some form of ‘seeding’ program, something that began several centuries back, but appears to have ended maybe 30-40 years ago. Dr. Bernstein appears to have collected some genetic samples of many in this room, apparently when we were held captive in Las Vegas for that brief period of time, but that he never had the opportunity to analyze that information.
“So it’s possible,” he continued, “that some of us here are descendants of Drake to some degree or another, but the data hasn’t been analyzed. Now that Drake is no longer with us, in the flesh anyway, I’m not sure whether it is very important to anyone here to know if he is in fact a relative of yours. I have been able to figure out how to run the machinery, so I can complete those tests if you would like, but I can also destroy the genetic samples of anyone who wants me to. I think this information belongs to each of you, so I will honor each of your requests. I will be spending another several days in his lab before I finish my work there and strip all of the data cards and hard drives from the computers there. By the time I am finished, that lab will be useless to anyone who follows, but we’ll have a library of genetic data to analyze for the ORC’s-although we’ll need to make sure to safeguard that information well.”
With that, Jim sat back, took a swig from his ever-present two liter of Diet Pepsi and waited for the answers from everyone present.
Ravyn was the first to reply. “I for one, don’t need to know if I am related to that...creature. I know my lineage quite well, thank you very much. I want my genetic samples back ASAP.”
Jim nodded in assent to her request.
Moira spoke up next. “I’m with Ravyn, although I’ll trust you to destroy my sample, Jim.”
The Frau cleared her throat and tapped the floor with her cane. “I’m pretty curious. I’d like you to run my sample if you would, Jim dear.”
Cerrydwen added, “Me too.”
Jim noted their requests with a nod, took another swig.
Everyone’s eyes drifted back to me. I shifted, feeling a little uncomfortable. “Hey, I’ve got nothing to hide, run my stuff too.”
Naomi, looking up from the smiling face of her daughter added in her surprsing comment. “Hey, don’t forget about me. If you’ve got a sample from me, run that too. If you need a sample, let me know, I’ll give you one. I’ve heard some stories from my mama about some shady ancestors. I want to know too.”
“Very well then, this will give me some work to do when i get back there. Ravyn, when you take me back, I’ll give you your sample right then and there.”
“You better believe it, bub! If you didn’t, I’d burn that place to the ground!”
(To be continued with another post tonight...and more tomorrow.)
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Wrapping Up...Part 1
The arrival back at the Professor’s home was a joyous celebration like few I’ve ever seen before. Cerrydwen had made some calls on her cell phone shortly after we had gotten back to the car, so everyone had had plenty of time to gather back there to join in the party.
Even Jim had managed to find a way back to greet us, although his truck wasn’t parked in its normal spot, indicating that Ravyn had probably helped expedite his journey back.
The reunion of Naomi with her...our...daughter Alexa was most heartwarming to witness. I would have been balling like a baby myself, had I been capable of it. Instead, I merely stood by watching as she hugged the child close. She was choking with sobs and shedding abundant tears of joy.
After carefully disengaging with Naomi, Ravyn ran to the Frau and then to Cerrydwen crushing each of them in a bear hug or her own.
Jim hung back, watching the reunions from his normally discrete but comfortable distance.
Moira and Herne came up to me, Herne asking for details about how everything happened, while Moira’s first questions were about the blade that was now wrapped and slung over over my back.
In no time at all, the gathering swept into the house and dissolved into half a dozen smaller conversations until everyone was settled back into the living room where Cerrydwen had laid out her bold plan. On some unseen and unheard cue, everyone grew quiet and still, all eyes eventually settling on a rather startled Cerrydwen.
“I see.” She said. “So I get the honor of starting things off, eh?”
When we all nodded silently, she began speaking in a low, hushed voice. She told the tale of our journey north in short, efficient sentences that provided the necessary details but left out everything that wasn’t absolutely essential. She explained how she felt that Drake had some way of tracking me and how she fully expected him to show up when we reached our destination.
She then grew even quieter as she described the Island and the events that took place there, all of the way up until Drake was defeated. She fell silent and looked to me at that point, with all of the others turning to me as well. It was my turn to describe what happened...
(Continued tomorrow...)
Even Jim had managed to find a way back to greet us, although his truck wasn’t parked in its normal spot, indicating that Ravyn had probably helped expedite his journey back.
The reunion of Naomi with her...our...daughter Alexa was most heartwarming to witness. I would have been balling like a baby myself, had I been capable of it. Instead, I merely stood by watching as she hugged the child close. She was choking with sobs and shedding abundant tears of joy.
After carefully disengaging with Naomi, Ravyn ran to the Frau and then to Cerrydwen crushing each of them in a bear hug or her own.
Jim hung back, watching the reunions from his normally discrete but comfortable distance.
Moira and Herne came up to me, Herne asking for details about how everything happened, while Moira’s first questions were about the blade that was now wrapped and slung over over my back.
In no time at all, the gathering swept into the house and dissolved into half a dozen smaller conversations until everyone was settled back into the living room where Cerrydwen had laid out her bold plan. On some unseen and unheard cue, everyone grew quiet and still, all eyes eventually settling on a rather startled Cerrydwen.
“I see.” She said. “So I get the honor of starting things off, eh?”
When we all nodded silently, she began speaking in a low, hushed voice. She told the tale of our journey north in short, efficient sentences that provided the necessary details but left out everything that wasn’t absolutely essential. She explained how she felt that Drake had some way of tracking me and how she fully expected him to show up when we reached our destination.
She then grew even quieter as she described the Island and the events that took place there, all of the way up until Drake was defeated. She fell silent and looked to me at that point, with all of the others turning to me as well. It was my turn to describe what happened...
(Continued tomorrow...)
Monday, June 19, 2006
Heading Home
The journey back to the Professor’s home was the polar opposite of the journey northward. The sun was bright, the mood was joyful, and everyone was talkative. I heard more laughter and saw more smiles in that trip back than in my entire (un)life to date.
Something about the transition from the island to the shore really drove home the reality of the changes that had just taken place, the sheer miracle of having a young woman’s life restored against all logic.
It was a pure joy to watch Naomi take in every sight, sound and smell with a vigor and an enthusiasm that echoed my own deepest desires. The momentary pangs of wistful regrets that I felt quickly dissipated as I watched a young woman in the full flower of her youthful life, knowing that she would now have an opportunity to be a mom to her only child.
I drove again, which gave me a chance to be lost in my own thoughts and to listen in on the conversations that Cerrydwen and the Frau engaged Naomi in.
Before we’d even hit the Mackinac Bridge, they’d already drawn more information out of her about her own childhood in New Orleans and the story of her getting caught up in Drake’s breeding program.
By the time we had crossed that massive bridge, Naomi was laughing and telling stories about all of the weird things that happened throughout her life, stories that revealed that she had some sort of raw, untapped skills that might make her a powerful Caster in her own right, if she only learned how to harness them.
Cerrydwen looked back from the front passenger seat to the Frau, gave her a knowing wink, and then turned back to Naomi. “Child, what you have been describing are the hallmark signs of a true Caster maturing. We have someone who will make a fine teacher, someone who will be able to teach you to find and master all of your previously hidden talents. She also happens to be babysitting your daughter Alexa at the moment.”
The Frau piped in, “Ravyn would make an excellent instructor, and I think she’ll love the idea of a young baby around as well. She was sold on Alexa the moment she saw her.”
It was my turn to pitch in. “I agree. But I am going to have to do something with Daniel. I don’t want to leave him hanging around Naomi and the baby.”
Cerrydwen looked over at me sternly. “And just what are you planning to do with him?”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure yet. But there is one more great injustice that must be addressed before I can really look to the future.”
Cerrydwen’s eyes narrowed. “The Iraqi woman?”
I nodded.
“Where is she now?”
“She is with the Merlin. I took her there to give her a chance to heal and get her bearings back, and to keep her safe from Drake.”
She nodded. “Yes, the crimes she suffered should be addressed and there is one man who must face them. I can help.”
I glanced at her briefly, before returning my eyes to the road. “How’s that?”
I felt more than I saw her dark grin. “You hold the memories of what he did to her. I am fairly certain that I can restore enough of them to him so that he will know who he was, and what crimes he committed. He doesn’t deserve to enjoy the blissful ignorance that he now enjoys.”
I shook my head. “You are one evil woman. I am glad you are on my side.”
“You should be.”
With that all too serious reminder, the conversation among the women began again as if I weren’t even there, something I rather enjoyed.
Something about the transition from the island to the shore really drove home the reality of the changes that had just taken place, the sheer miracle of having a young woman’s life restored against all logic.
It was a pure joy to watch Naomi take in every sight, sound and smell with a vigor and an enthusiasm that echoed my own deepest desires. The momentary pangs of wistful regrets that I felt quickly dissipated as I watched a young woman in the full flower of her youthful life, knowing that she would now have an opportunity to be a mom to her only child.
I drove again, which gave me a chance to be lost in my own thoughts and to listen in on the conversations that Cerrydwen and the Frau engaged Naomi in.
Before we’d even hit the Mackinac Bridge, they’d already drawn more information out of her about her own childhood in New Orleans and the story of her getting caught up in Drake’s breeding program.
By the time we had crossed that massive bridge, Naomi was laughing and telling stories about all of the weird things that happened throughout her life, stories that revealed that she had some sort of raw, untapped skills that might make her a powerful Caster in her own right, if she only learned how to harness them.
Cerrydwen looked back from the front passenger seat to the Frau, gave her a knowing wink, and then turned back to Naomi. “Child, what you have been describing are the hallmark signs of a true Caster maturing. We have someone who will make a fine teacher, someone who will be able to teach you to find and master all of your previously hidden talents. She also happens to be babysitting your daughter Alexa at the moment.”
The Frau piped in, “Ravyn would make an excellent instructor, and I think she’ll love the idea of a young baby around as well. She was sold on Alexa the moment she saw her.”
It was my turn to pitch in. “I agree. But I am going to have to do something with Daniel. I don’t want to leave him hanging around Naomi and the baby.”
Cerrydwen looked over at me sternly. “And just what are you planning to do with him?”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure yet. But there is one more great injustice that must be addressed before I can really look to the future.”
Cerrydwen’s eyes narrowed. “The Iraqi woman?”
I nodded.
“Where is she now?”
“She is with the Merlin. I took her there to give her a chance to heal and get her bearings back, and to keep her safe from Drake.”
She nodded. “Yes, the crimes she suffered should be addressed and there is one man who must face them. I can help.”
I glanced at her briefly, before returning my eyes to the road. “How’s that?”
I felt more than I saw her dark grin. “You hold the memories of what he did to her. I am fairly certain that I can restore enough of them to him so that he will know who he was, and what crimes he committed. He doesn’t deserve to enjoy the blissful ignorance that he now enjoys.”
I shook my head. “You are one evil woman. I am glad you are on my side.”
“You should be.”
With that all too serious reminder, the conversation among the women began again as if I weren’t even there, something I rather enjoyed.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
A Legendary Blade
After we disengaged, I went back to the stone table to collect my batons and to examine the extra blade that lay there.
Once the batons were securely in place in their special drop down holsters strapped on the inside of each forearm, I turned my attention to this curious, long sword.
I placed one hand on the hilt and the other on the sheath near the base of the blade. Unsure of the origin of the blade, I opened my Spirit sight to see what I could glean from that. Nothing of interest.
Shifting back to normal sight, I picked it up, still sheathed and brought the hilt close for a quick visual inspection. The hilt was long enough for two hands, but the blade was easily light enough to be wielded with one hand. The crossguard and the pommel were of plain, unadorned silvered steel, while the hilt was wrapped in plain brown leather. Nothing spectacular, but plainly meant to be a very serviceable weapon.
I then drew the blade in one smooth motion, which made a very satisfying, almost singing sound as it emerged into the light. At first the blade seemed rather plain, absent of any ornamentation or etchings, but light seemed to gather around the blade, causing it to glow slightly. The whole blade seemed to hum in my hand, like it was very glad to be free from its own prison.
In my head, I heard the familiar voice of the elven woman, her voice piercing through my very being again as it had not so long ago.
*This blade is my final gift to you. It was given to me for safekeeping by your vanquished foe, in another place, a long time ago as you mortals deem it.*
“Drake had this blade and gave it to you?”
*Yes, he was afraid of this weapon but could not destroy it, so he brought it to a place where he knew it would be kept hidden.*
“It seems familiar. I feel like I should know its name.”
*It has many names, but one more is well known than the others.*
“Excalibur...?”
*Yes, that is one of its names. It is time for this blade to be of use again, but not in the same way it did in the past. You should beware, this blade knows no equal, but it will not allow itself to shed to the blood of innocents. Any attempts to do so will be at your own peril.*
“I would never...”
*You may not intend to shed the blood of an innocent, but it will make its own judgement of your foe. You will not be warned, for this blade does not communicate with its bearer like your last weapon. This sword answers only to a Higher Power. Use it wisely, or not at all. I must take my leave.*
“Wait, what else can you tell me of this weapon?”
Silence.
I looked from the glowing blade to see the three women staring at me with varying looks of awe, consternation and amusement on their faces.
The Frau, as usual, was the first to break the uncomfortable silence, chuckling as she spoke. “It would seem, Rusty my boy, that the Lady is fond of you.”
I looked from the Frau to Cerrydwen, confused. “Wait a minute, did you hear her also as she spoke to me?”
Cerrydwen nodded.
The Frau chuckled again. “I don’t know, but if the Lady feels that you need that weapon, then I have a feeling that things are going to get pretty rough again.”
I looked at the still glowing blade in my hand. “Wow, who would have thought that Excalibur was actually real?”
Cerrydwen shook her head and replied. “Who would’ve thought that it was Drake who had taken Excalibur back to the Lady of the Lake in the first place? There are so many questions that we don’t have answers to. Let’s hope we can find the answers to some of them before its too late.”
Feeling almost sorry to have to do it, I sheathed the blade. “We should get going soon. I don’t think your Lady wants us hanging around here much longer. Naomi, can you walk?”
Nodding her head, she began to stand up with the Frau lending some assistance. “Yeah, I think so.”
Once she was up, she was able to walk on her own after a few shaky steps.
The Frau gathered up her cane, grabbed the two sticks with the cooked hare on them, muttering under her breath as she toddled off toward the beach. “Waste not, want not.”
Once the batons were securely in place in their special drop down holsters strapped on the inside of each forearm, I turned my attention to this curious, long sword.
I placed one hand on the hilt and the other on the sheath near the base of the blade. Unsure of the origin of the blade, I opened my Spirit sight to see what I could glean from that. Nothing of interest.
Shifting back to normal sight, I picked it up, still sheathed and brought the hilt close for a quick visual inspection. The hilt was long enough for two hands, but the blade was easily light enough to be wielded with one hand. The crossguard and the pommel were of plain, unadorned silvered steel, while the hilt was wrapped in plain brown leather. Nothing spectacular, but plainly meant to be a very serviceable weapon.
I then drew the blade in one smooth motion, which made a very satisfying, almost singing sound as it emerged into the light. At first the blade seemed rather plain, absent of any ornamentation or etchings, but light seemed to gather around the blade, causing it to glow slightly. The whole blade seemed to hum in my hand, like it was very glad to be free from its own prison.
In my head, I heard the familiar voice of the elven woman, her voice piercing through my very being again as it had not so long ago.
*This blade is my final gift to you. It was given to me for safekeeping by your vanquished foe, in another place, a long time ago as you mortals deem it.*
“Drake had this blade and gave it to you?”
*Yes, he was afraid of this weapon but could not destroy it, so he brought it to a place where he knew it would be kept hidden.*
“It seems familiar. I feel like I should know its name.”
*It has many names, but one more is well known than the others.*
“Excalibur...?”
*Yes, that is one of its names. It is time for this blade to be of use again, but not in the same way it did in the past. You should beware, this blade knows no equal, but it will not allow itself to shed to the blood of innocents. Any attempts to do so will be at your own peril.*
“I would never...”
*You may not intend to shed the blood of an innocent, but it will make its own judgement of your foe. You will not be warned, for this blade does not communicate with its bearer like your last weapon. This sword answers only to a Higher Power. Use it wisely, or not at all. I must take my leave.*
“Wait, what else can you tell me of this weapon?”
Silence.
I looked from the glowing blade to see the three women staring at me with varying looks of awe, consternation and amusement on their faces.
The Frau, as usual, was the first to break the uncomfortable silence, chuckling as she spoke. “It would seem, Rusty my boy, that the Lady is fond of you.”
I looked from the Frau to Cerrydwen, confused. “Wait a minute, did you hear her also as she spoke to me?”
Cerrydwen nodded.
The Frau chuckled again. “I don’t know, but if the Lady feels that you need that weapon, then I have a feeling that things are going to get pretty rough again.”
I looked at the still glowing blade in my hand. “Wow, who would have thought that Excalibur was actually real?”
Cerrydwen shook her head and replied. “Who would’ve thought that it was Drake who had taken Excalibur back to the Lady of the Lake in the first place? There are so many questions that we don’t have answers to. Let’s hope we can find the answers to some of them before its too late.”
Feeling almost sorry to have to do it, I sheathed the blade. “We should get going soon. I don’t think your Lady wants us hanging around here much longer. Naomi, can you walk?”
Nodding her head, she began to stand up with the Frau lending some assistance. “Yeah, I think so.”
Once she was up, she was able to walk on her own after a few shaky steps.
The Frau gathered up her cane, grabbed the two sticks with the cooked hare on them, muttering under her breath as she toddled off toward the beach. “Waste not, want not.”
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Mission Accomplished
The Frau and Cerrdywen, now dressed and back to their normal selves in every observable way, came over to where Naomi lay next to me. In a few short, semi-coherent sentences I told the story of my meeting with the elven lady and the choice she offered me.
Cerrydwen nodded as I described her, clearly agreeing with my choice of words, but her demeanor had shifted back to her normal, dour self--few words and even fewer smiles.
The Frau sat down heavily in the soft grass and began fretting over Naomi as I spoke, only half listening to my words. She was far more interested in Naomi herself and how she seemed.
Naomi was still unconscious, but was clearly breathing. She appeared to be wholly healed of the grievous wounds that I had seen that creature inflict on her in New Orleans. Her face was small, smooth, and beautiful. She looked much as I had seen her when she had been waiting for me at the Tree.
As the Frau settled in close and began checking for less obvious injuries, Naomi began to stir. I had finished my short tale, so I got up and gave way for Cerrydwen to settle in my spot. I was pretty sure that she and the Frau would be a far gentler sight to wake-up to than I would be.
I moved away from the ladies and closer to where I had met the elven woman, over by the stone table. Everything seemed dark and still here now, especially compared with the vibrant colors and and singing faery circle of that other place. Unconsiously, one hand moved up to my inner jacket pocket, as if to assure myself that the ring containing Drake was still there. It was.
As I contemplated everything that had just happened, I noticed some things laid out on the top of the table that hadn’t been there before I had looked into the Spirit world. Our weapons, from Cerrydwen’s sheathed athame to the Frau’s cane were all laid out in a neat row on the table top. Diego was there in his sheath, as were my batons. Next to my weapons however, there was a long, narrow sheathed sword that was easily a foot longer than Diego was.
I strode over to the table and looked at the arrayed weapons. Despite my curiosity as to the new blade, my eyes kept falling on Diego. I could feel the sadness coming from him. I reached over and picked him, unsheathing the blade in one smooth motion. I let the black leather sheath fall to the ground.
I felt a surge of sadness, frustration and resignation through the hilt. He was disappointed that Drake had been killed and that he had no part in making that happen.
“Diego, I know how much you wanted to be a part of Drake’s demise, but I am not sorry that you had no part in spilling his blood. I think you have seen enough killing in your time in this world.”
In one swift move, before I had time to reconsider, I reached up with my left hand, wrapped my thick, mechanical fingers around the blade near the tip, and snapped the flat of the blade over my knee. With that blow, the last of the Witchbane Blades passed from this world.
I felt an immediate sense of relief and joy flash from the shattered blade as Diego’s spirit was finally freed to resume it’s journey through the Cosmos. I heard a soft tinkling of ghostly laughter and a softly whispered ‘Thank you, Senor Bones’ from Herlinda as she had returned to wait for her brother’s release.
An image of Diego running through the clearing, chasing after laughing faeries before landing in the arms of his sister. I could sense a feeling of strong approval from the unseen presence of the elven lady.
I felt Cerrydwen’s arm on my shoulder as she came up behind me. “You’ve done well, Rusty. The world is a safer, better place with the last of those blades now destroyed. You’ve seen a Being this night that no mortal man has ever seen before, you were the first to do. I hope you understand the significance of her choice to reveal herself to you without an intermediary.”
I nodded, looked at the broken pieces of a blade that had taken far too many innocent lives. The metal of the blade seemed to be deteriorating quickly as rust spots appeared and quickly spread. I let them fall to the ground and watched as they dissolved into two small piles of rusty dust and then blew away in the breeze in a matter of a few moments.
I looked into Cerrydwen’s eyes, noticed that there did seem to be an inner peace that may have been missing before. “I will never forget...Her. Maybe someday you can tell me more about her.”
She nodded. “Maybe.” She walked over to the table and recovered her athame without further comment, sticking the sheath back into the top of her heavy boot.
I looked over to see the Frau fussing over the now conscious and sitting Naomi, who was staring at me intently.
I walked over and knelt down in front of her. “Do you remember me?”
She kept her eyes locked onto my face, nodded, and managed to speak. “I do. She told me that you would look different than when i met you by the Tree.”
“Who told you that?”
“That Shining Lady, she had called me back from far away with her beautiful song.” Naomi shook her head, fnally glancing away before continuing. “She said that I would have an opportunity to be with my daughter again and that you had given up your life to make it happen. I didn’t understand what she had meant by that, but I think I am beginning to see what she meant.”
Somewhat self conscious of my rather frightful appearance, I looked away. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to scare you.”
She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around my neck and sobbed into my ear. “Oh no, Mr. Bones, you don’t scare me none at all. I have you to thank for saving Alexa during that storm, and now I have you to thank again for giving up something I had thought I had lost forever. I could never be afraid of you.”
A surge of emotion welled up within me, but I had no outlet for it, other than to hug her back and say, “Call me Rusty.”
Cerrydwen nodded as I described her, clearly agreeing with my choice of words, but her demeanor had shifted back to her normal, dour self--few words and even fewer smiles.
The Frau sat down heavily in the soft grass and began fretting over Naomi as I spoke, only half listening to my words. She was far more interested in Naomi herself and how she seemed.
Naomi was still unconscious, but was clearly breathing. She appeared to be wholly healed of the grievous wounds that I had seen that creature inflict on her in New Orleans. Her face was small, smooth, and beautiful. She looked much as I had seen her when she had been waiting for me at the Tree.
As the Frau settled in close and began checking for less obvious injuries, Naomi began to stir. I had finished my short tale, so I got up and gave way for Cerrydwen to settle in my spot. I was pretty sure that she and the Frau would be a far gentler sight to wake-up to than I would be.
I moved away from the ladies and closer to where I had met the elven woman, over by the stone table. Everything seemed dark and still here now, especially compared with the vibrant colors and and singing faery circle of that other place. Unconsiously, one hand moved up to my inner jacket pocket, as if to assure myself that the ring containing Drake was still there. It was.
As I contemplated everything that had just happened, I noticed some things laid out on the top of the table that hadn’t been there before I had looked into the Spirit world. Our weapons, from Cerrydwen’s sheathed athame to the Frau’s cane were all laid out in a neat row on the table top. Diego was there in his sheath, as were my batons. Next to my weapons however, there was a long, narrow sheathed sword that was easily a foot longer than Diego was.
I strode over to the table and looked at the arrayed weapons. Despite my curiosity as to the new blade, my eyes kept falling on Diego. I could feel the sadness coming from him. I reached over and picked him, unsheathing the blade in one smooth motion. I let the black leather sheath fall to the ground.
I felt a surge of sadness, frustration and resignation through the hilt. He was disappointed that Drake had been killed and that he had no part in making that happen.
“Diego, I know how much you wanted to be a part of Drake’s demise, but I am not sorry that you had no part in spilling his blood. I think you have seen enough killing in your time in this world.”
In one swift move, before I had time to reconsider, I reached up with my left hand, wrapped my thick, mechanical fingers around the blade near the tip, and snapped the flat of the blade over my knee. With that blow, the last of the Witchbane Blades passed from this world.
I felt an immediate sense of relief and joy flash from the shattered blade as Diego’s spirit was finally freed to resume it’s journey through the Cosmos. I heard a soft tinkling of ghostly laughter and a softly whispered ‘Thank you, Senor Bones’ from Herlinda as she had returned to wait for her brother’s release.
An image of Diego running through the clearing, chasing after laughing faeries before landing in the arms of his sister. I could sense a feeling of strong approval from the unseen presence of the elven lady.
I felt Cerrydwen’s arm on my shoulder as she came up behind me. “You’ve done well, Rusty. The world is a safer, better place with the last of those blades now destroyed. You’ve seen a Being this night that no mortal man has ever seen before, you were the first to do. I hope you understand the significance of her choice to reveal herself to you without an intermediary.”
I nodded, looked at the broken pieces of a blade that had taken far too many innocent lives. The metal of the blade seemed to be deteriorating quickly as rust spots appeared and quickly spread. I let them fall to the ground and watched as they dissolved into two small piles of rusty dust and then blew away in the breeze in a matter of a few moments.
I looked into Cerrydwen’s eyes, noticed that there did seem to be an inner peace that may have been missing before. “I will never forget...Her. Maybe someday you can tell me more about her.”
She nodded. “Maybe.” She walked over to the table and recovered her athame without further comment, sticking the sheath back into the top of her heavy boot.
I looked over to see the Frau fussing over the now conscious and sitting Naomi, who was staring at me intently.
I walked over and knelt down in front of her. “Do you remember me?”
She kept her eyes locked onto my face, nodded, and managed to speak. “I do. She told me that you would look different than when i met you by the Tree.”
“Who told you that?”
“That Shining Lady, she had called me back from far away with her beautiful song.” Naomi shook her head, fnally glancing away before continuing. “She said that I would have an opportunity to be with my daughter again and that you had given up your life to make it happen. I didn’t understand what she had meant by that, but I think I am beginning to see what she meant.”
Somewhat self conscious of my rather frightful appearance, I looked away. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to scare you.”
She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around my neck and sobbed into my ear. “Oh no, Mr. Bones, you don’t scare me none at all. I have you to thank for saving Alexa during that storm, and now I have you to thank again for giving up something I had thought I had lost forever. I could never be afraid of you.”
A surge of emotion welled up within me, but I had no outlet for it, other than to hug her back and say, “Call me Rusty.”
Thursday, June 01, 2006
The Gift
I watched as the Frau and Cerrydwen walked away together, each whispering to the other about what had just happened. That was just fine with me, as I sat there trying to take it all in myself.
I had so many questions and almost no answers.
Was Drake well and truly dead? What the Hell was Dracaar going to do now with Drake’s body? Was the cure perhaps worse than the disease?
Fingering the sealed pocket of my leather jacket, I knew the ring was in there. What the Hell happened with Drake and this ring? Was it dangerous to have? Was there some part of Drake’s essence that escaped by going into the ring?
Knowing that it would be some time before the ladies were anywhere close to ready to depart, I took the opportunity to ground myself as John Red Bear had taught me to and slipped from my body. In my Spirit form, this place, this island looked completely different. It was brimming with colors and vibrantly alive. Instead of the dull, almost lonely place that it was to my normal senses, in this view, the place was brimming with creatures of Spirit that were dancing and playing in an almost gleeful way.
The large stone table was the center of a large gathering of sprites, brownies and other faery like beings who were dancing and singing in high pitched voices. Standing in the center, near the table, was a tall woman with long, elegant limbs, flowing hair, and a thin, angular face that called to mind the word ‘elf’.
I noticed that even with all of the activity going on around her, she was standing quietly, watching me. I felt a nervous tingle as I felt compelled to move closer to her ethereal beauty.
I was so entranced by her face, particularly her eyes, that I almost didn’t notice that she was naked except for a single loin cloth, like Cerrydwen had worn at the ceremony.
As I approached the ring of dancing fey, they scattered before me with gleeful cries and chaotic laughter, going off in pairs and threes into the nearby woods. Those woods, by the way, were much more colorful and cheery looking here than they were to my normal vision.
I continued to move forward, until I found myself standing directly in front of the angelic looking elfin woman. Like an awkward, geeky boy asking the prom queen for a dance, I managed to stammer out a few halting words in greeting. “H-H-Hello, my Lady. A-A-Are you the Hostess of this place that my friend Cerrydwen spoke of?”
She nodded. She was taller than I was, causing me to look up in order to speak to her properly. Her oval shaped face was perfectly proportioned, from her high cheeks and large, tear shaped eyes to her full lips framed by a small, dainty chin and a shapely nose.
“I’m sorry that I tried to break the Peace of this place.” For some reason, I felt like I had to apologize for just about everything. Her presence was a powerful, intoxicating spell, one I could not seem to resist. I so desperately wanted to please her.
I didn’t so much ‘hear’ her response as I ‘felt’ it pass through my Spirit, each word a swirl of emotion, color, and vibrant, living energy.
*There is no need to apologize for what you are.*
I was absolutely transfixed by her words as they passed through me. I had so many questions I wanted to ask this being about what had just happened, but I was transfixed by her gaze, her energy, her presence. I had never before encountered anyone or anything as beautiful as she seemed at that moment.
*He who broke my Peace has been punished for that crime, at least.*
I finally managed to form a coherent question and utter it. “Is he, Drake, dead?”
Her head tilted back in the slightest of movements and a small, tinkling laughter escaped from her mouth, a sound that that sent shockwaves of chaotic, thrilling energy through my very being.
*In the sense that you mortals would deem it, the one you call Drake is indeed dead. His essence, his Spirit as you might say, has been imprisoned in a vessel of his own choosing, a fitting punishment for what he has done to so many others, mortal and immortal alike.*
“The ring? Is his Spirit trapped inside the ring that he gave to me?”
She nodded.
“Is there any way for him to escape? Is it dangerous to hold onto that thing?”
*His essence is bound to that ring until such time as he accepts his guilt and is truly remorseful for the crimes he has committed. Yes, there will always be danger in holding that ring, but there is perhaps even more danger in not keeping it. There is much for you to learn from this one you call Drake. You will need to learn the lessons he has to teach if you are to become that which you must become, if you are to fulfill the destiny of which you are capable.*
“What destiny is that?”
She merely smiled and laughed again, sending even more spasms of energy through me.
“If you can’t tell me that, then can you at least tell me about this Dracaar and what his intentions are?”
*You will learn more of Dracaar from within and by learning from that ring that is now yours than you will from me. I am not of that Order and have no authority to interfere in their affairs.*
“I don’t understand.”
*I cannot offer you understanding, it is not in my nature to do so. But I can offer you something else.*
“What is that?”
*Life. I can restore your body to the world of the Living, make you whole once more.*
“Y-y-you can actually do that? Make me alive again?”
*Yes.*
Everything screamed to a stop in that moment. The one thing that I had wished for more than anything else was being offered to me. To be alive again! To be able to breathe, eat, sleep, touch, smell, taste again! To be able to feel the warmth of my daughter Alexa’s breath on my cheek, to feel the touch of another human being again!
I thought long and hard about her offer. At first I couldn’t believe it could even be possible. Then I thought of everything that happened since I had died, all that I had gone through and become. Would that be lost? Would I be able to do the things that I could now? Would I be able to be there for Alexa and the others who needed me if I were mortal again?
We stood there for what seemed an eternity. She never waivered or became bored as I fought my way through the debate of whether or not I should accept this gift of Life that I had just been offered. Finally, I looked back into her eyes and asked a question.
“Can I ask for this gift to be given to someone else?”
*You can always ask. But once you ask, the request is final*
“Then I will ask if you will give life back to Naomi Jackson, Alexa’s mother. She died too soon.”
The elfin woman’s eyes filled with a sparkling energy that grew so bright as to make it impossible to look directly at her. Her words were like a tidal wave of emotional energy as they washed through and over me.
*So mote it be.*
The power of her words blasted my Spirit back into my body, hurtled my physical form onto its back. As my eyes began to adjust and I felt the connection of Spirit and body click into place, I heard, or rather felt, her voice once more, much more softly this time.
*You have taken another step forward on your journey, you have chosen well, Friend.*
I slowly sat up, tried to shake the cobwebs free and heard some surprised gasps coming from the direction in which the Frau and Cerrydwen had gone.
The Frau called out breathlessly, “Rusty, who is that next to you?”
I looked over to see the sleeping form of Naomi laying beside where I had fallen. Her face a mask of calm repose. If I could have fainted, I would have.
I had so many questions and almost no answers.
Was Drake well and truly dead? What the Hell was Dracaar going to do now with Drake’s body? Was the cure perhaps worse than the disease?
Fingering the sealed pocket of my leather jacket, I knew the ring was in there. What the Hell happened with Drake and this ring? Was it dangerous to have? Was there some part of Drake’s essence that escaped by going into the ring?
Knowing that it would be some time before the ladies were anywhere close to ready to depart, I took the opportunity to ground myself as John Red Bear had taught me to and slipped from my body. In my Spirit form, this place, this island looked completely different. It was brimming with colors and vibrantly alive. Instead of the dull, almost lonely place that it was to my normal senses, in this view, the place was brimming with creatures of Spirit that were dancing and playing in an almost gleeful way.
The large stone table was the center of a large gathering of sprites, brownies and other faery like beings who were dancing and singing in high pitched voices. Standing in the center, near the table, was a tall woman with long, elegant limbs, flowing hair, and a thin, angular face that called to mind the word ‘elf’.
I noticed that even with all of the activity going on around her, she was standing quietly, watching me. I felt a nervous tingle as I felt compelled to move closer to her ethereal beauty.
I was so entranced by her face, particularly her eyes, that I almost didn’t notice that she was naked except for a single loin cloth, like Cerrydwen had worn at the ceremony.
As I approached the ring of dancing fey, they scattered before me with gleeful cries and chaotic laughter, going off in pairs and threes into the nearby woods. Those woods, by the way, were much more colorful and cheery looking here than they were to my normal vision.
I continued to move forward, until I found myself standing directly in front of the angelic looking elfin woman. Like an awkward, geeky boy asking the prom queen for a dance, I managed to stammer out a few halting words in greeting. “H-H-Hello, my Lady. A-A-Are you the Hostess of this place that my friend Cerrydwen spoke of?”
She nodded. She was taller than I was, causing me to look up in order to speak to her properly. Her oval shaped face was perfectly proportioned, from her high cheeks and large, tear shaped eyes to her full lips framed by a small, dainty chin and a shapely nose.
“I’m sorry that I tried to break the Peace of this place.” For some reason, I felt like I had to apologize for just about everything. Her presence was a powerful, intoxicating spell, one I could not seem to resist. I so desperately wanted to please her.
I didn’t so much ‘hear’ her response as I ‘felt’ it pass through my Spirit, each word a swirl of emotion, color, and vibrant, living energy.
*There is no need to apologize for what you are.*
I was absolutely transfixed by her words as they passed through me. I had so many questions I wanted to ask this being about what had just happened, but I was transfixed by her gaze, her energy, her presence. I had never before encountered anyone or anything as beautiful as she seemed at that moment.
*He who broke my Peace has been punished for that crime, at least.*
I finally managed to form a coherent question and utter it. “Is he, Drake, dead?”
Her head tilted back in the slightest of movements and a small, tinkling laughter escaped from her mouth, a sound that that sent shockwaves of chaotic, thrilling energy through my very being.
*In the sense that you mortals would deem it, the one you call Drake is indeed dead. His essence, his Spirit as you might say, has been imprisoned in a vessel of his own choosing, a fitting punishment for what he has done to so many others, mortal and immortal alike.*
“The ring? Is his Spirit trapped inside the ring that he gave to me?”
She nodded.
“Is there any way for him to escape? Is it dangerous to hold onto that thing?”
*His essence is bound to that ring until such time as he accepts his guilt and is truly remorseful for the crimes he has committed. Yes, there will always be danger in holding that ring, but there is perhaps even more danger in not keeping it. There is much for you to learn from this one you call Drake. You will need to learn the lessons he has to teach if you are to become that which you must become, if you are to fulfill the destiny of which you are capable.*
“What destiny is that?”
She merely smiled and laughed again, sending even more spasms of energy through me.
“If you can’t tell me that, then can you at least tell me about this Dracaar and what his intentions are?”
*You will learn more of Dracaar from within and by learning from that ring that is now yours than you will from me. I am not of that Order and have no authority to interfere in their affairs.*
“I don’t understand.”
*I cannot offer you understanding, it is not in my nature to do so. But I can offer you something else.*
“What is that?”
*Life. I can restore your body to the world of the Living, make you whole once more.*
“Y-y-you can actually do that? Make me alive again?”
*Yes.*
Everything screamed to a stop in that moment. The one thing that I had wished for more than anything else was being offered to me. To be alive again! To be able to breathe, eat, sleep, touch, smell, taste again! To be able to feel the warmth of my daughter Alexa’s breath on my cheek, to feel the touch of another human being again!
I thought long and hard about her offer. At first I couldn’t believe it could even be possible. Then I thought of everything that happened since I had died, all that I had gone through and become. Would that be lost? Would I be able to do the things that I could now? Would I be able to be there for Alexa and the others who needed me if I were mortal again?
We stood there for what seemed an eternity. She never waivered or became bored as I fought my way through the debate of whether or not I should accept this gift of Life that I had just been offered. Finally, I looked back into her eyes and asked a question.
“Can I ask for this gift to be given to someone else?”
*You can always ask. But once you ask, the request is final*
“Then I will ask if you will give life back to Naomi Jackson, Alexa’s mother. She died too soon.”
The elfin woman’s eyes filled with a sparkling energy that grew so bright as to make it impossible to look directly at her. Her words were like a tidal wave of emotional energy as they washed through and over me.
*So mote it be.*
The power of her words blasted my Spirit back into my body, hurtled my physical form onto its back. As my eyes began to adjust and I felt the connection of Spirit and body click into place, I heard, or rather felt, her voice once more, much more softly this time.
*You have taken another step forward on your journey, you have chosen well, Friend.*
I slowly sat up, tried to shake the cobwebs free and heard some surprised gasps coming from the direction in which the Frau and Cerrydwen had gone.
The Frau called out breathlessly, “Rusty, who is that next to you?”
I looked over to see the sleeping form of Naomi laying beside where I had fallen. Her face a mask of calm repose. If I could have fainted, I would have.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Daddy Dearest...
The thunder rolled forth from the urn, pushing Drake further back from the table. His face was a frozen mask of fear and uncertainty. His hands were down at his sides. The right fist had slipped into a pocket, like he was fumbling for something inside his pants.
Seeing Cerrydwen laying on the ground, her face scrunched up in obvious agony as she clutched her shattered wrist with her good hand, the bear finally saw fit to get up off of my chest and waddle over to her.
Despite the still shuddering earth, I took this opportunity to sit up, but I was more busy going back and forth between watching Drake and glancing at the now glowing urn as a vaporous cloud of dark energy spilled forth from the mouth, slowly growing in a man-shaped form.
Drake had finally found what he had been searching for, pulling out a large silver ring set with a small dark stone. He took one brief moment to look at the ring before returning his attention the growing man-cloud. He clenched the ring in the palm of his now sweaty hand. Beads of sweat were now dripping from his head. His dress shirt was showing several sweat stains as well.
The man-cloud solidified. Two fire-red eyes formed in its head, a mouth appeared. It took a step towards Drake, one translucent arm reaching forward. The mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged, yet. As the creature moved away from the urn, it crashed to the ground, now a hollow bronze shell.
As the creature stepped forward, Drake stepped back, coming closer to where I now sat up. He glanced back to where I was, stammered out a barely heard sentence. “Rusty, this ring, it is absolutely critical that you take it.”
“What are you taking about?”
The man-cloud leaped forward, forming into an arrow that pierced into Drake’s chest. Drake’s back arched in agony as he was blown backwards and spun around, landing face first in the dirt at my outstretched feet. His body began spasming in violent bursts as he flopped about on the ground like a fish gasping for breath. His voice cried out in tortured wails, his eyes had rolled backwards in his head. The hand clenched around the ring remained sealed shut, as if it was the one part of his body he could still control.
The thrashing, wailing and agony continued for several moments, then all went silent and still. The hand holding the ring unclenched and twitched just enough to propel the ring btween my legs. It rolled to a stop and fell onto a side, little bits of smoldered flesh still attached to it. Looking up from it, I could see the palm bearing the scars of the ring, a large black circle evidence of where the ring was.
Unsure of what else to do at the moment, I reached down and grabbed the ring with my left hand and quickly stuck it in my inside jacket pocket. I then got up, looking over to where the naked form of the Frau was fretting over Cerrydwen and her broken arm.
I was just about to head over to see if I could do anything, when Drake’s body stirred again. I stepped back, not sure what was happening.
The body twitched again. A new round of convulsions began, though this time, they started out violent, but calmed quickly as he gathered himself and pushed up into a kneeling position. I got the distinct impression that someone new was trying out the body.
That feeling was confirmed as the former face of my enemy looked up at me with eyes more human than I could ever remember, and he smiled. Not the thin, smirk that I knew so well, but a genuine smile. His voice cracking, the being spoke, haltingly at first, then more sure. “I am Dracaar, is it you I have to thank for my release?”
Shaking my head, I pointed over to Cerrydwen and the Frau. “No, it was those ladies who released you. Thank them for your freedom.”
Dracaar shifted his look to the two ladies and clucked his tongue as he strode over to them. “I see that you have suffered at the hands of my wayward son. Please, let me help you.”
Frau moved enough for the figure of Dracaar to kneel down and touch Cerrydwen’s limp and swollen wrist. A warm yellow energy leaped from his fingers and entered her arm. Cerrydwen yelped in shock, but was soon able to move her fingers and hand without any pain.
Even as I watched this, I could see Drake’s former body continue to shift and fill out. He seemed to be gaining in height, weight and muscle mass, filling out from the rail thin frame that Drake had carried into a fuller, stronger, taller form that resembled more a linebacker than a bureacrat.
When the figure turned back to me, I could hardly recognize the face of my former foe, as his cheeks had filled out, his chin took on a much stronger cast, his eyes had a warm, charismatic feel to them. His voice, when he spoke again had a deep, sonorous quality that was also new, yet quite pleasing to the ear, even if the words themselves gave pause.
“FREE AT LONG LAST!” His arms were outstretched as he called out. He looked around at each of us, dropped his arms and lowered his voice. “I have much to do. I must take my leave now. I will have need of capable servants in the near future, serve me again, and you will be rewarded byond your wildest mortal dreams.”
With that he turned on his heal, strode to the table and grabbed the other urn. Energy gathered about him and the urn, culminating in a bright flash that faded to reveal an empty table and Dracaar missing.
We looked over at each other in awe, and more than a little fear. Frau was the first to speak. “What have we just released?”
Seeing Cerrydwen laying on the ground, her face scrunched up in obvious agony as she clutched her shattered wrist with her good hand, the bear finally saw fit to get up off of my chest and waddle over to her.
Despite the still shuddering earth, I took this opportunity to sit up, but I was more busy going back and forth between watching Drake and glancing at the now glowing urn as a vaporous cloud of dark energy spilled forth from the mouth, slowly growing in a man-shaped form.
Drake had finally found what he had been searching for, pulling out a large silver ring set with a small dark stone. He took one brief moment to look at the ring before returning his attention the growing man-cloud. He clenched the ring in the palm of his now sweaty hand. Beads of sweat were now dripping from his head. His dress shirt was showing several sweat stains as well.
The man-cloud solidified. Two fire-red eyes formed in its head, a mouth appeared. It took a step towards Drake, one translucent arm reaching forward. The mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged, yet. As the creature moved away from the urn, it crashed to the ground, now a hollow bronze shell.
As the creature stepped forward, Drake stepped back, coming closer to where I now sat up. He glanced back to where I was, stammered out a barely heard sentence. “Rusty, this ring, it is absolutely critical that you take it.”
“What are you taking about?”
The man-cloud leaped forward, forming into an arrow that pierced into Drake’s chest. Drake’s back arched in agony as he was blown backwards and spun around, landing face first in the dirt at my outstretched feet. His body began spasming in violent bursts as he flopped about on the ground like a fish gasping for breath. His voice cried out in tortured wails, his eyes had rolled backwards in his head. The hand clenched around the ring remained sealed shut, as if it was the one part of his body he could still control.
The thrashing, wailing and agony continued for several moments, then all went silent and still. The hand holding the ring unclenched and twitched just enough to propel the ring btween my legs. It rolled to a stop and fell onto a side, little bits of smoldered flesh still attached to it. Looking up from it, I could see the palm bearing the scars of the ring, a large black circle evidence of where the ring was.
Unsure of what else to do at the moment, I reached down and grabbed the ring with my left hand and quickly stuck it in my inside jacket pocket. I then got up, looking over to where the naked form of the Frau was fretting over Cerrydwen and her broken arm.
I was just about to head over to see if I could do anything, when Drake’s body stirred again. I stepped back, not sure what was happening.
The body twitched again. A new round of convulsions began, though this time, they started out violent, but calmed quickly as he gathered himself and pushed up into a kneeling position. I got the distinct impression that someone new was trying out the body.
That feeling was confirmed as the former face of my enemy looked up at me with eyes more human than I could ever remember, and he smiled. Not the thin, smirk that I knew so well, but a genuine smile. His voice cracking, the being spoke, haltingly at first, then more sure. “I am Dracaar, is it you I have to thank for my release?”
Shaking my head, I pointed over to Cerrydwen and the Frau. “No, it was those ladies who released you. Thank them for your freedom.”
Dracaar shifted his look to the two ladies and clucked his tongue as he strode over to them. “I see that you have suffered at the hands of my wayward son. Please, let me help you.”
Frau moved enough for the figure of Dracaar to kneel down and touch Cerrydwen’s limp and swollen wrist. A warm yellow energy leaped from his fingers and entered her arm. Cerrydwen yelped in shock, but was soon able to move her fingers and hand without any pain.
Even as I watched this, I could see Drake’s former body continue to shift and fill out. He seemed to be gaining in height, weight and muscle mass, filling out from the rail thin frame that Drake had carried into a fuller, stronger, taller form that resembled more a linebacker than a bureacrat.
When the figure turned back to me, I could hardly recognize the face of my former foe, as his cheeks had filled out, his chin took on a much stronger cast, his eyes had a warm, charismatic feel to them. His voice, when he spoke again had a deep, sonorous quality that was also new, yet quite pleasing to the ear, even if the words themselves gave pause.
“FREE AT LONG LAST!” His arms were outstretched as he called out. He looked around at each of us, dropped his arms and lowered his voice. “I have much to do. I must take my leave now. I will have need of capable servants in the near future, serve me again, and you will be rewarded byond your wildest mortal dreams.”
With that he turned on his heal, strode to the table and grabbed the other urn. Energy gathered about him and the urn, culminating in a bright flash that faded to reveal an empty table and Dracaar missing.
We looked over at each other in awe, and more than a little fear. Frau was the first to speak. “What have we just released?”
Friday, May 26, 2006
Confrontational Guest...Part 2
Imagine my surprise then, when instead of heading straight for Drake, the bear dodged to the side, quicker than I would have thought possible and crashed into my chest. Her great strength and large mass were easily enough to knock me to the ground. Before I could unscramble my senses and get back up, she settled her furry behind onto my chest, effectively pinning me as she sat facing Drake.
I was sprawled out on my back, but I was in a position that allowed me to see the shit eating grin on Drake’s face as he relaxed from his fighting stance and looked down at me in an even more condescending manner than normal.
Seeing his wicked grin, I struggled to free myself, but the Frau just settled down even more until I stopped struggling.
Drake threw his back in laughter at this pathetic scene. “Rusty, you have a strange choice of allies, I must say. Someday, if you survive long enough, you will learn the value of imposing your Will upon those who should serve.”
“Drake, you bastard! I know who you are now, what you’ve done to survive this long!”
He knelt down on one knee near my head, but just beyond my reach. “Yes, I know, son. But I also know what and who you’ve become. We share so much in common, you and I. Perhaps I will take you in as a student and teach you some of what I know. Then, you could be truly reach your full potential.”
If I could have spat in his face, I would have, but alas zombies don’t generate much saliva. “Fuck off, Drake. Once I get loose, I’m going to find you and kill you once and for all!”
“Oh yes, I tremble at the mere thought of it.” He laughed as he stood up, dusted off his pant leg and looked into the bear’s face disdainfully. “I know you from somewhere, bear.”
The bear licked her lips with her long tongue and brought her own face closer to Drake’s. Soon the two of them were within inches of each other as each stared into the eyes of the other.
The wrenching sneeze of the bear blasted bits of green and brown mucus onto Drake’s face and shirt, sending him staggering back a couple of steps as he wiped the disgusting spray from his face, cursing all of the while.
“Enough of these games.” He dropped the now dirty handkerchief into the grass and took one step towards the table, only to come face to face once again with the nearly naked form of Cerrydwen. The left side of her face was already purpling with a nasty bruise.
She looked calm and resolute as she stood straight and spoke to the man who had struck her down. “You have broken the Peace of this place, dear sir, but for that transgression, you are forgiven. Now, you have one last opportunity to start your journey down the long and difficult road to redemption.”
“I want nothing of your forgiveness, or your redemption, woman. I want what is mine!”
“If you continue down the path you seem so determined to take, you needn’t worry about that, dear sir, you will most assuredly get what is yours!”
“Woman, are you threatening me? You have no power over me! Stand aside, or I will be forced to hurt you again.”
I couldn’t get up, but it didn’t mean I was going to remain silent. “Drake, you better not touch her again! Come here and fight someone your own damn size!”
All three of them ignored me.
“Sir,” Cerrydwen countered, “it is not within your power to truly harm me. So strike me if you feel you must, but I will not stand aside while those beings remained trapped within those vessels.”
He stood silent for a moment, as he was unsure of what to do. I could see his right hand clench and unclench several times before he replied. “I will not allow you to free those monsters. You don’t know what it cost me to imprison them inside those urns.”
“Whatever their crimes, you have no right to keep them imprisoned in this way. I am afraid that if you will not release them on your own, I will have to do so. You may have the vessels when they are empty.”
As he stood there mute, Cerrydwen turned her back on him and walked up to the table. She picked up a gleaming silver athame that I had not seen before and reach toward the first urn, calling out in a sing song voice in a language that even I did not recognize.
All eyes were on Cerrydwen as she drew the urn containing the spirit of Drake’s mother to her and wave the athame over it in a mesmerizing manner, chanting all of the way. The glowing blade left a trace pattern of light behind as it moved, much like the sparklers I used to wave around in my youth.
Drake had stood rock still, as if he too were caught under a spell of some sort. But his shout and quick, lunging movement forward shattered the magickal calm. He caught her wrist in his left hand, twisting it in a cruel manner that created a loud popping sound from the bones in her wrist and a soft grunt of pain from her lips. The blade slipped from her spasming fingers and fell to the ground, the glowing blade seeming to drift in slow motion to stab into the moist earth of the island.
The moment the blade plunged into the earth was also the moment that the earth gave forth a great shudder of pain. Drake staggered with the sudden shift in the ground beneath him, still holding the obviously broken wrist of Cerrydwen, as they both stumbled back from the stone table where the urns began gyrating wildly.
With a great heave the earth buckled one more time, causing the larger urn of Dracaar to tumble from the table.
Too late, Drake saw the vessel begin its fall. He cast Cerrydwen aside like a broken doll and dove in vain in an attempt to catch the urn.
The urn fell inexorably to land with it’s lead-lined but clay stoppered mouth landing on the glowing silver hit of the upright dagger. With a thunderous crack, the seal shattered...
I was sprawled out on my back, but I was in a position that allowed me to see the shit eating grin on Drake’s face as he relaxed from his fighting stance and looked down at me in an even more condescending manner than normal.
Seeing his wicked grin, I struggled to free myself, but the Frau just settled down even more until I stopped struggling.
Drake threw his back in laughter at this pathetic scene. “Rusty, you have a strange choice of allies, I must say. Someday, if you survive long enough, you will learn the value of imposing your Will upon those who should serve.”
“Drake, you bastard! I know who you are now, what you’ve done to survive this long!”
He knelt down on one knee near my head, but just beyond my reach. “Yes, I know, son. But I also know what and who you’ve become. We share so much in common, you and I. Perhaps I will take you in as a student and teach you some of what I know. Then, you could be truly reach your full potential.”
If I could have spat in his face, I would have, but alas zombies don’t generate much saliva. “Fuck off, Drake. Once I get loose, I’m going to find you and kill you once and for all!”
“Oh yes, I tremble at the mere thought of it.” He laughed as he stood up, dusted off his pant leg and looked into the bear’s face disdainfully. “I know you from somewhere, bear.”
The bear licked her lips with her long tongue and brought her own face closer to Drake’s. Soon the two of them were within inches of each other as each stared into the eyes of the other.
The wrenching sneeze of the bear blasted bits of green and brown mucus onto Drake’s face and shirt, sending him staggering back a couple of steps as he wiped the disgusting spray from his face, cursing all of the while.
“Enough of these games.” He dropped the now dirty handkerchief into the grass and took one step towards the table, only to come face to face once again with the nearly naked form of Cerrydwen. The left side of her face was already purpling with a nasty bruise.
She looked calm and resolute as she stood straight and spoke to the man who had struck her down. “You have broken the Peace of this place, dear sir, but for that transgression, you are forgiven. Now, you have one last opportunity to start your journey down the long and difficult road to redemption.”
“I want nothing of your forgiveness, or your redemption, woman. I want what is mine!”
“If you continue down the path you seem so determined to take, you needn’t worry about that, dear sir, you will most assuredly get what is yours!”
“Woman, are you threatening me? You have no power over me! Stand aside, or I will be forced to hurt you again.”
I couldn’t get up, but it didn’t mean I was going to remain silent. “Drake, you better not touch her again! Come here and fight someone your own damn size!”
All three of them ignored me.
“Sir,” Cerrydwen countered, “it is not within your power to truly harm me. So strike me if you feel you must, but I will not stand aside while those beings remained trapped within those vessels.”
He stood silent for a moment, as he was unsure of what to do. I could see his right hand clench and unclench several times before he replied. “I will not allow you to free those monsters. You don’t know what it cost me to imprison them inside those urns.”
“Whatever their crimes, you have no right to keep them imprisoned in this way. I am afraid that if you will not release them on your own, I will have to do so. You may have the vessels when they are empty.”
As he stood there mute, Cerrydwen turned her back on him and walked up to the table. She picked up a gleaming silver athame that I had not seen before and reach toward the first urn, calling out in a sing song voice in a language that even I did not recognize.
All eyes were on Cerrydwen as she drew the urn containing the spirit of Drake’s mother to her and wave the athame over it in a mesmerizing manner, chanting all of the way. The glowing blade left a trace pattern of light behind as it moved, much like the sparklers I used to wave around in my youth.
Drake had stood rock still, as if he too were caught under a spell of some sort. But his shout and quick, lunging movement forward shattered the magickal calm. He caught her wrist in his left hand, twisting it in a cruel manner that created a loud popping sound from the bones in her wrist and a soft grunt of pain from her lips. The blade slipped from her spasming fingers and fell to the ground, the glowing blade seeming to drift in slow motion to stab into the moist earth of the island.
The moment the blade plunged into the earth was also the moment that the earth gave forth a great shudder of pain. Drake staggered with the sudden shift in the ground beneath him, still holding the obviously broken wrist of Cerrydwen, as they both stumbled back from the stone table where the urns began gyrating wildly.
With a great heave the earth buckled one more time, causing the larger urn of Dracaar to tumble from the table.
Too late, Drake saw the vessel begin its fall. He cast Cerrydwen aside like a broken doll and dove in vain in an attempt to catch the urn.
The urn fell inexorably to land with it’s lead-lined but clay stoppered mouth landing on the glowing silver hit of the upright dagger. With a thunderous crack, the seal shattered...
Monday, May 22, 2006
Confrontational Guest...Part 1
The crunch of the grasses beneath his booted feet was the only sound that could be heard as Drake strode up to stand across the small camp fire from Cerrydwen. If he had noticed me, or the half dozing bear on the other end of the stone table, or even the ancient urns sitting on the table, it was impossible to tell. His face was shielded by the hood of a dark cloak that wrapped him in shadow.
I could feel that it was Drake, could tell by his stride and the manner in which he carried himself, but none of us had yet seen his face.
The silence between the two drew out, almost as if there was a contest of wills, to see who would speak first. I wasn’t able to see Cerrydwen’s face, she was standing with her back to me.
“Welcome, honored guest. Would you care to share a meal and a fire with our humble company?”
Cerrydwen’s voice was strong and clear. She had motioned with her left arm to the sticks with the cooked hare on them and back down to the fire where they were standing.
Something about her words struck me as strange, until I realized that she wasn’t speaking English, but a long forgotten language that was a precursor to Arabic. I thought to myself, how the Hell did she know how to speak that language?
Drake also seemed taken aback to hear his original native language spoken in this era, but his replied was only delayed by a couple of seconds. “You will not throw me off of my purpose with your use of arcane rituals and long dead tongues, wench. All I want from you is that which is already mine.”
“And what, dear guest, is it that you claim is yours that we have to give you here?”
“You know what is mine here.”
“I am afraid that I see nothing here that is yours, dear sir. You will have to be quite specific about any claims you may have here. ” As she spoke, the wind kicked up in strong bursts, ruffling her hair, but throwing back the hood on his cloak, revealing the pale, drawn face of Drake. “It is also customary to show oneself when asking for guest privileges.”
“Impudent bitch. I am not going to play this game with you. I came here for the urns. I will leave here with them whether you give them back to me, or I have to take them from your cold, dead fingers.”
“I would advise you, good sir, to remain civil. These discussions will go much more smoothly if you attempt to do so.”
“Look, Cerrydwen, right? That’s your name, if I remember correctly from my files.”
She nodded.
“I don’t know how you have discovered to speak this language, or what you think to accomplish by coming to this...place...and trying to invoke these rites, but I am quickly running out of patience for this game. Are you going to give me the urns, or do I have to take them?”
As he spoke, Drake had drawn himself up in height and seemed to grow in power and importance as he did so. He also had moved a step away from the fire and towards the table.
Cerrydwen stepped smoothly from behind the fire and interposed herself between Drake and the table.
I tensed my shoulders, clasped my hands into fists, frustrated in my role of forced silence. I could sense that things were about to go terribly wrong.
Cerrydwen broke the tense silence as she raised an open palm in a peaceful gesture of seeming surrender. “My dear sir, you may indeed have the urns once they have been emptied of their contents. Would you care to do the honors yourself, or shall I?”
If it were possible, Drake blanched an even paler shade of white. His lips were drawn tight over his teeth, so tight that his slightly enlarged canines seemed about to burst through his bloodless, thin lips until he spoke.
“I...don’t...think...so. Those urns must remain intact. My claim is that both the urns and their contents must be returned to me, intact and undisturbed.”
I could now see a profile of Cerrydwen’s face, could see that she had that same calm demeanor that she usually had, with the slightest hint of a smile forming as she replied.
“Sir, your claim of ownership over the urns themselves is noted, however our hostess has informed me that no claim of ownership of the contents may be recognized. You may indeed take possession of the urns themselves, but only after they have been opened and their contents released.”
In one quick motion, Drake’s right hand came up and backhanded Cerrydwen. The sound was sharp and loud as the back of his his hand smashed into her cheek, sending her flying in a seemingly boneless heap to the side.
“NNOOOO!!!!” I screamed out and lurched forward into motion.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl in that moment that Cerrydwen went flying.
As I burst into action, Drake dropped into a defensive posture, as he swung around to face me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the large, lumbering figure of the bear come to her feet and launch herself into motion as well, coming at Drake from behind...
Relishing the idea of Drake being sandwhiched between me and that bear, I was almost glad that the peace of this place had been broken...
I could feel that it was Drake, could tell by his stride and the manner in which he carried himself, but none of us had yet seen his face.
The silence between the two drew out, almost as if there was a contest of wills, to see who would speak first. I wasn’t able to see Cerrydwen’s face, she was standing with her back to me.
“Welcome, honored guest. Would you care to share a meal and a fire with our humble company?”
Cerrydwen’s voice was strong and clear. She had motioned with her left arm to the sticks with the cooked hare on them and back down to the fire where they were standing.
Something about her words struck me as strange, until I realized that she wasn’t speaking English, but a long forgotten language that was a precursor to Arabic. I thought to myself, how the Hell did she know how to speak that language?
Drake also seemed taken aback to hear his original native language spoken in this era, but his replied was only delayed by a couple of seconds. “You will not throw me off of my purpose with your use of arcane rituals and long dead tongues, wench. All I want from you is that which is already mine.”
“And what, dear guest, is it that you claim is yours that we have to give you here?”
“You know what is mine here.”
“I am afraid that I see nothing here that is yours, dear sir. You will have to be quite specific about any claims you may have here. ” As she spoke, the wind kicked up in strong bursts, ruffling her hair, but throwing back the hood on his cloak, revealing the pale, drawn face of Drake. “It is also customary to show oneself when asking for guest privileges.”
“Impudent bitch. I am not going to play this game with you. I came here for the urns. I will leave here with them whether you give them back to me, or I have to take them from your cold, dead fingers.”
“I would advise you, good sir, to remain civil. These discussions will go much more smoothly if you attempt to do so.”
“Look, Cerrydwen, right? That’s your name, if I remember correctly from my files.”
She nodded.
“I don’t know how you have discovered to speak this language, or what you think to accomplish by coming to this...place...and trying to invoke these rites, but I am quickly running out of patience for this game. Are you going to give me the urns, or do I have to take them?”
As he spoke, Drake had drawn himself up in height and seemed to grow in power and importance as he did so. He also had moved a step away from the fire and towards the table.
Cerrydwen stepped smoothly from behind the fire and interposed herself between Drake and the table.
I tensed my shoulders, clasped my hands into fists, frustrated in my role of forced silence. I could sense that things were about to go terribly wrong.
Cerrydwen broke the tense silence as she raised an open palm in a peaceful gesture of seeming surrender. “My dear sir, you may indeed have the urns once they have been emptied of their contents. Would you care to do the honors yourself, or shall I?”
If it were possible, Drake blanched an even paler shade of white. His lips were drawn tight over his teeth, so tight that his slightly enlarged canines seemed about to burst through his bloodless, thin lips until he spoke.
“I...don’t...think...so. Those urns must remain intact. My claim is that both the urns and their contents must be returned to me, intact and undisturbed.”
I could now see a profile of Cerrydwen’s face, could see that she had that same calm demeanor that she usually had, with the slightest hint of a smile forming as she replied.
“Sir, your claim of ownership over the urns themselves is noted, however our hostess has informed me that no claim of ownership of the contents may be recognized. You may indeed take possession of the urns themselves, but only after they have been opened and their contents released.”
In one quick motion, Drake’s right hand came up and backhanded Cerrydwen. The sound was sharp and loud as the back of his his hand smashed into her cheek, sending her flying in a seemingly boneless heap to the side.
“NNOOOO!!!!” I screamed out and lurched forward into motion.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl in that moment that Cerrydwen went flying.
As I burst into action, Drake dropped into a defensive posture, as he swung around to face me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the large, lumbering figure of the bear come to her feet and launch herself into motion as well, coming at Drake from behind...
Relishing the idea of Drake being sandwhiched between me and that bear, I was almost glad that the peace of this place had been broken...
Sunday, May 14, 2006
The Law of Hospitality...Part 2
“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...
“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...
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...
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